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
"I find my servants where I can in such days as these," said she coolly.
"And there are plenty to care for old Douw Fonda in Caughnawaga, but
only an accomplished wench like Penelope Grant would I trust to do my
hair and lace me. Will you send this girl to me?"
"No, I won't," said I bluntly. "I shall not charge myself with such an
errand, even for you. It is not a decent thing you ask of me or of the
wench, either."
"It is decent," retorted Claudia pettishly. "If she's as pretty a
baggage as is reported, some of our young fools will never let her alone
until one among them turns her silly head. Whereas the girl would be
safe with me."
"That is not my affair," I remarked.
"Do you wish her harm?"
"I tell you she is no concern of mine. And if she's not a hopeless fool
she'll know how to trust the gentry of County Tryon."
"You are of them, too, Jack," she said maliciously.
"I am a plain farmer and I trouble no woman."
"You trouble me," she insisted sweetly.
I laughed, not agreeably.
"You do so," she repeated. "I would you had courage to court me again."
"Do you mean courage or inclination, Claudia?"
She gave me a melting look, very sweet, and a trifle sad.
"With patience," she murmured, "you might awaken both our hearts."
"I know well what I'd awaken in you," said I; "I'd awaken the devil. No;
I've had my chance."
She sighed, still looking at me, and I awaited her further assault,
grimly armed with memories.
But ere she could speak, Hiakatoo lurched to his feet and stood towering
there unsteadily, his burning gaze fixed on space.
Whereat Sir John, now very tight and very drowsy, opened owlish eyes;
and Hare took the Seneca by the arm.
"If you desire to go," said he, "here are three of us ready to ride
beside you."
Moucher, too, stood up, and so did Captain Watts; but they were not in
their cups. Watts took Hiakatoo's blanket from a servant and cast it
over the tall warrior's shoulders.
"The Western Gate of the Confederacy lies unguarded," explained Hare to
us all, in his frank, amiable manner. "The great Gate Keeper, Hiakatoo,
bids you all farewell. Duty calls him toward the setting sun."
All had now risen from the table. Hiakatoo lurched past us and out into
the hallway; Hare and Moucher and Watts took smiling leave of Sir John;
the ladies gave them all a courteous farewell. Hare, passing, said to
me:
"To any who enquire you can answer pat enough to make an end to foolish
rumours concerning any meditated flight of this family."
"My answer," said I quietly, "is always the same: Sir William's son has
given his parole."
They went out after their Indian, which disturbed me greatly, as I could
not account for Hiakatoo's presence at Johnstown, and I was ill at ease
seeing him so apparently in charge of three known Tories, and one of
them a deputy of Guy Johnson.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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