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
"Yield yourselves, prisoners," said their chief, "or we fire." Dick
answered by a shot which brought the speaker to the ground, and a sort
of madness came over me. I saw everything through a red haze, and
cared for nothing but to avenge our dead companion. I sprang on the
nearest of the enemy, tore his musket out of his grasp, and clubbed it,
smiting with all my strength. As he fell, I shouted "One," and made
for the next, who gave back a little, and fired wild. "Two," I yelled,
as my butt crashed on his head. The third man toward whom I rushed,
threw his musket down and ran. I glanced round, and saw that every one
of our party had possessed himself of a musket, and was using it in the
same fashion. The enemy had no time to reload; six of their fellows
were disabled, including their leader; they had no stomach for more
fighting hand to hand, and so, though they were more than two to one,
they turned tail and ran for their lives. But being clumsy rascals,
they had small chance of escape from us by that means, and were glad to
obey the order which Dick bellowed as we chased them, to throw down
their weapons. Guns, pistols, cutlasses, all were discarded. Even
then, I still pursued until Portington laid hold of me.
"Poor devils are unarmed, Frank. Let 'em go," he said.
At that, I came to my senses, and turned back with the rest. We met a
number of the men who had come from the green to pick up the spoils of
war.
"Fine fellows you are," said Dick to some of them, "to stand and look
on while your neighbours are maltreated."
"As far as I can see, squire," answered a fat fellow (the same
mentioned in the first chapter), "you were able to take care of
yourselves, and you must excuse poor men, who don't want to go to the
gallows or the Virginia plantations. For the like of us 'tis a hanging
matter. For all that, some of the jassups would have run their necks
into a halter, if I hadn't insensed 'em."
"Much thanks to you," replied Dick, laughing at the man's cool
impudence.
"Besides, your honour," said the fellow in a lower tone, "it behoved
some one to keep an eye on the Dutchmen."
"Ah! the Dutchmen. I' faith, I had forgotten them. And what came of
your watch, my man?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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