Philip Winwood: A Sketch of the Domestic History of an American Captain in the War of Independence; Embracing Events that Occurred between and during the Years 1763 and 1786, in New York and London: written by His Enemy in War, Herbert Russell, Lieutenant in the Loyalist Forces.Stephens, Robert Neilson
History
Philip Winwood: A Sketch of the Domestic History of an American Captain in the War of Independence; Embracing Events that Occurred between and during the Years 1763 and 1786, in New York and London: written by His Enemy in War, Herbert Russell, Lieutenant in the Loyalist Forces.
Stephens, Robert Neilson
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
"And my chair is waiting here," said she, snatching an opportunity to
pass him and to step into the sedan, of which the door was invitingly
open. It was not her chair, but one that stood in solicitation of some
passenger from the stage door; as was now shown by one of the
chair-men asking her for directions. She bade her maid hire a boy with
a light, and lead the way afoot; and told the chair-men to follow the
maid. The chair door being then closed, and the men lifting their
burden, her orders were carried out.
Neither Philip nor I had yet thought it opportune to appear from our
concealment, and now he whispered that, for the avoidance of a scene
before spectators, it would be best for him to follow the chair, and
accost her at her own door. I should watch Falconer to his abode, and
each of us should eventually go home independently of the other. Our
relief to find that the English captain's presence was against Madge's
will, needed no verbal expression; it was sufficiently manifest
otherwise.
Before Philip moved out to take his place behind the little
procession, Falconer, after a moment's thought, walked rapidly past to
his coach, and giving the driver and footman brief orders, stepped
into it. 'Twas now time for both Phil and me to be in motion, and we
went down the way together. The chair passed the coach, which
immediately fell in behind it, the horses proceeding at a walk.
"He intends to follow her," said I.
"Then we shall follow both," said Phil, "and await events. 'Tis no use
forcing a scene in this neighbourhood."
So Philip's quest and mine lay together, and we proceeded along the
footway, a little to the rear of the coach, which in turn was a little
to the rear of the chair. Passing the side of Drury Lane Theatre, the
procession soon turned into Bow Street, and leaving Covent Garden
Theatre behind, presently resumed a Southwestward course, deflecting
at St. Martin's Lane so as to come at last into Gerrard Street, and
turning thence Northward into Dean Street. Here the maid led the
chair-men along the West side of the way; but Philip and I kept the
East side. At last the girl stopped before a door with a pillared
porch, and the carriers set down the chair.
Instantly Captain Falconer's footman leaped from the box of the coach,
and, while the maid was at the chair door to help her mistress, dashed
into the porch and stood so as to prevent any one's reaching the door
of the house. The captain himself, springing out of the coach, was
at Madge's side as soon as she had emerged from the chair. Philip
and I, gliding unseen across the street, saw him hand something to
the front chair-man which made that rascal open his mouth in
astonishnent--'twas, no doubt, a gold piece or two--and heard him
say:
"You and your fellow, begone, and divide that among you. Quick!
Vanish!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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