The MS. in a Red BoxHamilton, John A. (John Arthur)
History
The MS. in a Red Box
Hamilton, John A. (John Arthur)
Axholme, Isle of (England) -- History -- Fiction
I pulled slowly awhile to make sure of being beyond their reach before
stopping to know what hurt had been taken by us. We could not see, for
our lantern had burned out, or been smothered in the folds in which
Bess had enwrapped it. Anna, who sat nearest me, affirmed she had
suffered nothing worse than a few bruises; the doctor had a wound in
the left shoulder, which was bleeding freely, he said; Martha had been
struck on the head with a stone, but now felt better; Bess assured me
she had no serious injury, which I could scarce believe, exposed as she
had been. Well it was for the rest of us that she had risked herself
so boldly. Twice, in spite of the ready pole, some of our pursuers had
swum out from the bank to lay hold of our craft, and had gone under
with cracked crowns. All would have been over with us if they had
clutched the gunnel.
Something of this I was saying, when Bess cried, "Cease rowing a
moment."
As she spoke, a hoarse sound of cheering came to our ears, and as it
died away we caught a faint noise of dipping oars, which grew more
distinct while we listened.
"Some of them are following in a boat," said Bess. "Hand me your
pistols, and row on."
"Look to the priming," said I, as I passed the weapons and bent again
to the oars. There could be no going fast, for the stream twisted
about sharply at this part, and the darkness was thickened by alders
and willows which leaned over the water, so that I had to feel my way
slowly, lest I ran the boat aground. Happily, I knew every bend and
shallow well, having been out on the stream duck-shooting scores of
times, though never in such gloom as now. My hope was that our
pursuers might be less familiar with its windings, in which case they
might stick on a shoal, or foul a bush long enough to give me time to
cross a "broad," which lay a little ahead.
Out on open water, a boat rowed by three or four men would be sure to
overtake us, unless we had a long start of them; but if I could cross
the "broad" before they came up with us, I had some hope of winning the
race; for the remainder of the stream twisted about in a manner full of
difficulty to those who did not thoroughly know its course. Just as
the channel widened, and I was revolving in my mind by what dodge I
might elude our pursuers, they broke out into loud curses, and I
guessed what had happened to them. The stream forked a little way
behind us, and one branch soon ran shallow over a bed of pebbles. If
one pushed over this, one came to a bed of weeds which was quite
impassable. Our pursuers, I imagined, had come to the shallow, and I
hoped they would go forward. We could hear they were disputing and
quarrelling. So I was assured of the long start I wanted, and pulled
cheerily across the mere, rousing the waterfowl by thousands, to the
astonishment of Anna, who had never heard such a thunderous flapping of
wings and such a tumult of screaming, quacking, and cackling.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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