United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
Not until Saul was within the cask, and had taken position close by the
side of the prisoner, did little Frenchie venture to come out. Then,
halting and leaning over so his voice would carry to the prisoner and
his jailor without being heard by any who might be in the vicinity of
the shed, he said, still speaking in a tone of command which, had I been
less excited and anxious, would have sounded comical from one so small:
"Remember, Saul, that your life, mayhap, and ours, depends upon your
holding that Tory scoundrel safe. Fitz and I will learn what we may
toward aiding us in getting him to the cabin."
"How long am I to stay here?" Saul asked, and I fancied that he was
growing sulky again, whereupon I said soothingly, laying my hand on his
leg in friendly fashion:
"Do not let your temper get the best of you again, Saul, else are we all
undone past mending. We have fallen into a hobble, and each must do his
best to come out alive."
"I am ready to do what I may, and understand, without its being roughed
into me, that I am the one who is responsible for it all; but yet I ask
how long am I to stay here?"
"Until we come again," little Frenchie said decidedly. "There is no
probability we shall dare risk a visit here 'twixt now and the time
when we have made ready to carry him to old Mary's cabin, therefore you
can count that your duties as jailor will hold you inside that cask
until midnight."
I would have added somewhat to that which Pierre had said, counting
thereby to soothe my cousin; but little Frenchie dragged me back,
motioning with his finger on his lips that I hold my peace. I understood
that again was the lad right, for if we did what we might toward coaxing
Saul into a better humor, we were possibly giving him an opportunity to
fly off in a rage again, and that would have been fatal to all the faint
hopes in which we then indulged.
Pierre clambered softly down across the rubbish, motioning for me to
follow his example, and then set about pulling away from the ramshackle
door the short lengths of logs which barred it; but he was careful to
remove only sufficient of the barrier for us to creep out.
When we were in the open air, with the shed so nearly closed that no
one, unless having special business there, would be likely to enter, he
said to me in a whisper as he led the way up into the village once more:
"Now we will set about our work, and before Saul sees us again he will
have had plenty of time in which to repent having given way to his
temper."
"Our work?" I repeated dully. "Isn't it enough that we must hold Horry
Sims prisoner, without thinking of aught else?"
"We came here to find Saul's mare and your Silver Heels, and, even
though it be necessary to stand guard over the Tory, I am counting that
we shall continue the work even as was at first proposed."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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