United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
With two of us pulling from above and the others shoving him up from
below, we finally succeeded in landing him on the puncheon planks,
rolling the fellow over until he was at such a distance from the opening
in the floor that he could not well spy upon those who were below.
All the while, fortunately for us, the cannonading continued, therefore
we were at liberty to work as we would regardless of making a noise, and
well it was, for had we stood in danger from eavesdroppers, then must
all of us have been in the guard-house within five minutes after the
fight between Master Morgan and Abel Hunt began.
It was with a sense of greatest relief that I stood near the edge of the
scuttle wiping the perspiration from my face when finally we had got the
scoundrelly cur where we wanted him, and then the satisfaction which
should have been mine because of having thus far succeeded in holding
our own, was entirely wiped out by thoughts of the future. Strive as I
might, I could not prevent my mind from going ahead of time and
picturing what must finally be our fate.
That we could hold these two Tories securely for a day, mayhap eight and
forty hours, I had little doubt; but it was the same as a proven fact in
my mind that within a short time must the Britishers learn all the
secret, and lay us under the most terrible of all military charges.
It was as if Master Morgan understood that if we were given much time
for thought there was fear of our growing timorous, for no sooner had we
disposed of Abel Hunt than he called for all to come to the floor below
where he could have speech with us, saying at the same time that the
prisoners could effect nothing toward their release, even though it were
possible for them to cry out, because while the cannon were roaring and
one could hear the crackle of musketry from seemingly every point, the
strongest lunged man who ever lived could not have made his voice heard
an hundred paces away.
"It has come time for me to take leave of you, lads," the Jerseyman said
much to my surprise, and I interrupted him by crying out, for it was to
my mind as if the moment he departed we were standing in even more
imminent danger of death than we did at that instant.
"I thought you were not counting to make the venture until midnight," I
cried.
"That was in my mind, lad, when matters were quiet here within the
entrenchments; but from the sounds of conflict it would seem as if the
Britishers had all they could attend to without looking after a man here
or there. I count on making my way very near the outer works, where I
shall await an opportunity of slipping through the lines."
"Think you it will be possible to do so?" Pierre asked thoughtfully,
and the Jerseyman replied without a tremor in his voice:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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