Produced by Al Haines [Illustration: Cover art] [Frontispiece: HE THREW HIMSELF UPON THE GROUND. _See page 136_] ROGER DAVIS LOYALIST BY FRANK BAIRD WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS Toronto THE MUSSON BOOK COMPANY LIMITED CONTENTS CHAPTER I. THE OUTBREAK II. AMONG ENEMIES III. MADE PRISONER IV. PRISON EXPERIENCES V. THE TRIAL AND ESCAPE VI. KING OR PEOPLE? VII. THE DIE CAST VIII. OFF TO NOVA SCOTIA IX. IN THE 'TRUE NORTH' X. THE TREATY XI. HOME-MAKING BEGUN XII. FACING THE FUTURE XIII. THE GOVERNOR'S PERIL XIV. VICTORY AND REWARD LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS HE THREW HIMSELF UPON THE GROUND . . . . . . . . . _Frontispiece_ SHE MOTIONED ME TO MY FATHER'S EMPTY CHAIR 'THAT MAN,' I SAID, TURNING AND FACING THE 'COLONEL,' WHO SAT PALE AND SHIVERING 'THIS IS NOVA SCOTIA,' HE SAID, POINTING TO THE MAP Roger Davis, Loyalist Chapter I The Outbreak It was Duncan Hale, the schoolmaster, who first brought us the news. When he was half-way from the gate to the house, my mother met him. He bowed very low to her, and then, standing with his head uncovered--from my position in the hall--I heard him distinctly say, 'Your husband, madam, has been killed, and the British who went out to Lexington under Lord Percy have been forced to retreat into Boston, with a loss of two hundred and seventy-three officers and men.' The schoolmaster bowed again, one of those fine, sweeping, old-world bows which he had lately been teaching me with some impatience, I thought; then without further speech he moved toward the little gate. But I had caught a look of keen anxiety on his face as he addressed my mother. Once outside the garden, he stooped forward, and, breaking into a run, crouching as he went as though afraid of being seen, he soon disappeared around a turn in the road. My mother stood without speaking or moving for some moments. The birds in the blossom-shrouded trees of the garden were shrieking and chattering in the flood of April sunlight; I felt a draught of perfumed air draw into the hall. Then a mist that had been heavy all the morning on the Charles River, suddenly faded into the blue, and I could see clearly over to Boston, three miles away. I shall not soon forget the look on my mother's face as she turned and came toward me. I have wondered since if it were not born of a high resolve then made, to be put into effect later. She was not in tears as I thought she would be. There were no signs of grief on her face, but instead her whole countenance seemed illuminated with a strangely noble look. I was puzzled at this; but when I remembered that my mother was the daughter of an English officer who was killed while serving under Wolfe at Quebec, I understood.