Prisoners of Hope: A Tale of Colonial VirginiaJohnston, Mary
History
Prisoners of Hope: A Tale of Colonial Virginia
Johnston, Mary
Virginia -- History -- Colonial period, ca. 1600-1775 -- Fiction
"If I thought that," snarled the convict, "you'd never live to reach
that door."
"I shall live to see you hanged," said the other coolly.
Here the mulatto slipped something into Roach's hand. "So you'll give me
up?" said the latter in a peculiar voice.
"I have said so."
"Then, by the Lord! I'll be even with you!" Roach cried with savage
triumph. "Do you see this, and this, and this?" fluttering a mass of
folded papers before the other's eyes. "Ah! I was wise, I was, when I
couldn't hide everything about me, to take the papers, and leave the
weapons. I've got you now. Here's the lists that the old fool who is
dead and gone to hell had hidden behind the gold! Here's enough to hang
you and your d--d Cromwellians higher than Haman. There will be more
than one giving up, I'm thinking! I've got you under my thumb, and I'll
squeeze you!"
"You cannot read; you do not know what those papers contain," said
Landless steadily.
"But I can," put in Trail smoothly. "I was but just running them over to
our friend whose education has been so sadly neglected, when you came
in."
Landless drew a pistol from his bosom, cocked it, and leveled it at the
murderer. "You see," he said with an ominously quiet eye and voice, "you
were not altogether wise to leave the weapons. Now, give me those
lists."
"Damnation!" cried the convict, and Luiz Sebastian glided towards the
door.
Landless, quick of eye and active of body, saw the movement, and sprang
backwards to the opening before the other could reach it. He covered the
three with his pistol.
"I will shoot the first of you that stirs," he said sternly. "You,
Roach, lay those papers upon that bit of board, and push them towards me
with your foot."
"I'll go to hell first," was the sullen reply.
"As you please. I will give you until I count twenty. If those papers
are not in my hands, then I will shoot you like the dog you are."
The murderer uttered a dreadful curse. Landless began to count. Roach
made an irresolute motion of the hand that held the lists. Landless
counted on, "fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen--" With another oath
and a grin of rage Roach dropped the papers upon the board at his feet.
"Now push it towards me," said Landless.
With a brow like midnight the other did as he was bid. Still covering
his men, Landless stooped quickly, and took up the precious papers,
assured himself that they were all there, and placed them in his bosom.
"Now," he said, leaning his back against the doorpost, and regarding
the three baffled rogues with a grim eye, "I have a few words to say to
you. I speak first to you, Trail, and to you, Luiz Sebastian. These
papers have told you little that you did not know before. It was not the
information that you gained from them that made them so valuable; it was
the possession of them, the possession of actual proofs of this
conspiracy which you might hold over our heads, or, if the notion took
you, might sell to Colonel Verney?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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