United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
Hiram went noiselessly behind the screen of casks, while I stood
directly in front of Seth with my knife ready for use if he should
attempt to speak; but such precaution was unnecessary. The scoundrel was
so thoroughly frightened as to be incapable of either speech or action,
and when Hiram had come back into the room he sank upon the floor of
earth an inert mass.
Can you fancy our mental condition as we four stood looking mutely into
each other's faces, with Seth Jepson sprawled out between us? It is
difficult for me, even at this time, to understand all the fearsomeness
of that moment.
Master Lord might at any moment come down to make sure those whom he
believed he was deceiving yet retained confidence in him, and once he
did so there would be a desperate struggle, in which we must take a
human life, or perchance lose our own.
For the first time since I had known him, did I see Hiram Griffin in
doubt. He stood there gazing alternately at each of us, and I could well
understand that he was striving fiercely to see some way out of this
tangle which seemed positive must bring us to the prison, or worse, and
meanwhile Seth lay there among us showing no other sign of life than a
succession of short, quick sobs.
How long we remained there in painful doubt and perplexity I will not
undertake to say; but I do know that my heart was beating like a trip
hammer, and I strained my ears to hear those sounds which would betoken
a visit from Master Lord.
The suspense was finally ended by Hiram who, without giving any
intimation of his purpose, began tearing his shirt into strips, and
having thus formed what would serve in place of rope, he set about
binding Seth's hands and feet so deftly that while the lad was trussed
up like a chicken ready for the roasting, there was little fear of his
suffering from the tightness of his bonds.
While this was being done Seth made no resistance; but gazed at us with
terror in his eyes, and I believe the scoundrel was firmly convinced we
had brought him there to his death.
Then Hiram, kneeling by the Tory's side, whispered softly in his ear, I
bending over to catch the words:
"Our own lives depend upon keeping you silent, therefore can it be
understood that we would kill you rather than suffer death ourselves.
Within a short time there will come into this room a man who is devoted
to the Cause, so he says; but who must not know that you are here. I
question much whether we can depend upon your solemn promise; but yet
rather than put you to the torture of being gagged during four and
twenty hours, I am inclined to take the chances, promising faithfully
that at the first outcry from you, and whatsoever may be the danger to
myself, I will take your life."
"You may believe me, and I promise to do whatsoever you say," Seth
whispered, the tears of fear rolling down his cheeks.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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