The Little Red FootChambers, Robert W. (Robert William)
History
The Little Red Foot
Chambers, Robert W. (Robert William)
New York (State) -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
And so I laid aside her painful letter, and unfolded the last missive.
And discovered it was writ me by Penelope:
"You should not think harshly of me, Jack Drogue, if you return and
discover that I am gone away from Johnstown.
"Douw Fonda is returned to Cayadutta Lodge. He has now sent a
carriage for to fetch me. It is waiting while I write. I can not
refuse him.
"If, when we meet again, you desire to know my mind concerning
you, then, if you choose to look into it, you shall discover that
my mind contains only a single thought. And the thought is for you.
"But if you desire no longer to know my mind when again--if
ever--we two meet together, then you shall not feel it your duty to
concern yourself about my mind, or what thought may be within it.
"I would not write coldly to you, John Drogue. Nor would I
importune with passion.
"I have no claim upon your further kindness. You have every claim
upon my life-long gratitude.
"But I offer more than gratitude if you should still desire it; and
I would offer less--if it should better please you.
"Feel not offended; feel free. Come to me if it pleaseth you; and,
if you come not, there is in me that which shall pardon all you do,
or leave undone, as long as ever I shall live on earth.
"PENELOPE GRANT."
When Snips had powdered me and had tied my club with a queue-ribbon of
his proper selection, he patched my cheek-bone where a thorn had torn
me, and stood a-twirling his iron as though lost in admiration of his
handiwork.
When I paid him I bade him tell Burke to bring around my horse and fetch
my saddle bags; and then I dressed me in my regimentals.
When Burke came with the saddle-bags, we packed them together. He
promised to care for my rifle and pack, took my new light blanket over
his arm, and led the way down stairs, where I presently perceived Kaya
saddled, and pricking ears to hear my voice.
Whilst I caressed her and whispered in her pretty ear the idle
tenderness that a man confides to a beloved horse, Burke placed my
pistols, strapped saddle-bags and blanket, and held my stirrup as I
gathered bridle and set my spurred boot firmly on the steel.
And so swung to my saddle, and sat there, dividing bridles, deep fixed
in troubled thought and anxiously concerned for the safety of the
unselfish but very stubborn girl I loved.
* * * * *
I had said my adieux to Jimmy Burke; I had taken leave of the Commandant
at the palisades jail. I now galloped Kaya through the town, riding by
way of Butlersbury;[42] and saw the steep roof of the Butler house
through the grove, and shuddered as I thought of the unhappy young man
who had lived there and who, at that very moment, might be hanging by
his neck while the drums rolled from the hollow square.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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