United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
Hardly more than fifty yards from where we were then standing were the
ruins of a house which had been literally torn into fragments by shot
from the American lines. Under these splintered and partially-burned
timbers would it be possible for us to find a fairly good hiding place,
unless peradventure strict search might be made, which was not probable
because so far as we knew, the red-coats had no reason to suspect us as
being other than lads whose parents so loved the king that they had been
willing to remain in the village of York even during the siege.
Saul was not at first inclined to go into hiding. When Pierre told him
what we would do, he declared that it was putting ourselves to useless
trouble, for these gentry who wore red coats no longer had the time nor
the inclination to concern themselves about us; but when little Frenchie
explained that we might in some way be prevented from carrying early
news of the retreat to the American lines, then my cousin followed,
unwillingly, mayhap, still he kept at our heels until we had wriggled
our way beneath the shattered timbers to where it was possible to have a
fairly good view of the river.
It was not until we had snugly stowed ourselves into this place that I
began to realize how great was the danger which menaced. Our people had
the range so well that the buildings roundabout this place were torn and
wrecked, while now and then a shot came unpleasantly near, and I saw two
men killed while they were striving to get one of the heavy baggage
wagons on board a barge.
Then I realized that it was more than possible we might never come out
from beneath these timbers alive because of having been killed by our
own friends. The triumph which had been mine was sadly marred by the
timorousness which came over me, as I understood that death might be
nearer at hand than when we were in old Mary's cabin, with Abel Hunt
roaming around the village in search of us.
Not for anything I owned of worldly goods would I have allowed Pierre to
know that which was in my mind. I strove manfully to drive out the fear
by saying to myself that while we remained in the village of York
exposed to the fire of our friends we were as safe in one place as
another, and if it was written we should die that day, then did it make
little difference what precautions might have been taken.
When the sun had set the activity of the red-coats was redoubled. In the
twilight we who were hiding beneath the ruins could see the officers as
they went to and fro hurriedly, and hear their sharp words of command or
of reproof as they chided this man or that with lingering, or strove to
incite a squad into more rapid movement.
Now was my heart beating so loudly and so violently that it was as if
even the enemy on the river bank must hear it, for I realized that the
supreme moment for us of Virginia had come, and could conjure up nothing
which might prevent the Britishers from carrying out their plans.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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