The Master of Appleby: A Novel Tale Concerning Itself in Part with the Great Struggle in the Two Carolinas; but Chiefly with the Adventures Therein of Two Gentlemen Who Loved One and the Same Lady — John Shaqi
The Master of Appleby: A Novel Tale Concerning Itself in Part with the Great Struggle in the Two Carolinas; but Chiefly with the Adventures Therein of Two Gentlemen Who Loved One and the Same LadyLynde, Francis
History
The Master of Appleby: A Novel Tale Concerning Itself in Part with the Great Struggle in the Two Carolinas; but Chiefly with the Adventures Therein of Two Gentlemen Who Loved One and the Same Lady
Lynde, Francis
Historical fiction; Love stories; North Carolina -- Fiction; South Carolina -- Fiction; Triangles (Interpersonal relations) -- Fiction
Having decided, I was keen to be about it while the night should
last--the friendly darkness, and some fine flush of excitement which
again had come at need to take the place of healthful vigor. But when I
would have quit the window to begone upon my errand a sober second
thought delayed me. If my simple counterplot should fail, some knowledge
of the powder-convoy's route would be of prime importance. Lacking the
time to warn the over-mountain men, the next best thing would be to set
some band of patriot troopers upon the trail and so to overtake the
convoy. Nay, on this second thought's rehearsing the last expedient
seemed the better of the two, since thus the plot would come to naught
and we would be the gainers by the capture of the powder.
So now you know why I should stick and hang by toe and finger-tip and
glare across the little space that gaped between my itching fingers and
the bit of parchment passed from hand to hand around the table's end. If
I could make a shift to rob them of this map--
It was a desperate chance, but in the frenzy of the moment I resolved to
take it. Their placings round the table favored me. Gilbert Stair and
the lawyer sat fair across from me, but they were still intent upon
their figurings. Of the trio at the table's end, the baronet and the
captain had their backs to me. The younger officer sat across, and he
was staring broadly at my window, though with wine-fogged eyes that saw
not far beyond the bottle-neck, I thought.
My one hope hinged upon the boldness of a dash. If I could spring within
and sweep the two candlesticks from the table, there was a chance that I
might snatch the parchment in the darkness and confusion and escape as I
had come.
So I began by inches to draw me up and feel for some better launching
hold. But in the midst, for all my care and caution, I slipped and lost
my grip upon the casement; lost that and got another on the wooden
shutter opened back against the outer wall, and then went down, pulling
the shutter from its rusted hinges in crashing clamor fit to rouse the
dead.
As if they were quick echoes, other crashings followed as of chairs
flung back; and then the window just above me filled with crowding
figures. I marvel that I had the wit to lie quiet as I had fallen, but I
had; and those above, looking from a lighted room into the belly of the
night, saw nothing. Then Captain Stuart shouted to his dragoon
horse-holder.
"Ho! Tom Garget; this way, man!" he cried; and when he had no answer,
put a leg across the window seat to clamber out. 'Twas in the very act,
while I was watching catlike every movement, that I saw the precious
scrap of parchment in his hand.
Here was the chance I had prayed for. Tom Garget's sword had clattered
down beside me, and with it I sprang afoot and cut a whizzing circle by
my doughty captain's ear that made him cringe and gasp and all but
tumble out upon me. The bit of parchment fluttered down and in a trice I
had it safe.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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