The Rangers; or, The Tory's Daughter: A Tale Illustrative of the Revolutionary History of Vermont and the Northern Campaign of 1777Thompson, Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce)
History
The Rangers; or, The Tory's Daughter: A Tale Illustrative of the Revolutionary History of Vermont and the Northern Campaign of 1777
Thompson, Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce)
Vermont -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
“Halloo, there, Woodburn, is that you?” exclaimed a cheerly voice, as a
stout-built, crank, honest-looking young man, without hat or coat, came
out of the door, and with a free and careless air made his way towards
the other; “but what is your hurry? Nothing unpleasant has befallen you
in your affair over yonder that makes you feel like being off in this
sly and hasty manner, has there?”
“No, Risdon, not quite so bad as that yet,” replied Woodburn, taking all
in good part.
“How much better, then? Come, Harry, I have taken stones enough out
of your path, and thrown them into that of your rival there, to earn a
candid answer to such a question.”
“True, sir; but you ask more than I am permitted to know myself. I
can neither get accepted nor rejected. She, however has given me fresh
reason to admire her. She is no common girl, friend Risdon.”
“There is not a finer or fairer in all the Green Mountains; but what is
that fresh reason you name?”
“The discovery that at heart she is warmly with us in the good cause.”
“That is, you hope, and therefore believe so, eh?”
“I have a much better reason than that, sir, for my assertion. She has,
within this hour, told me so herself.”
“Ah! Well, then, it is indeed so; for Sabrey Haviland never uttered
aught but perfect truth and sincerity in all her life. Why, God bless
her for her spunk and independence, living and visiting, as she mostly
has, from a child, in that circle of high-toned and bitter tories.
And it argues well for your suit, too, Woodburn, which till now I have
considered rather an unpromising one; for it tells me that she will
struggle hard to get free from the fetters which Peters and her father
have fastened on her, and by which, counting on her high sense of the
sacredness of all promises and contracts, they suppose have secured her
beyond the least fear of escape.”
“Do you allude to any thing other than the mere consent which she
formerly gave to Peters's proposals of marriage, and which, I had
supposed, constituted the only engagement existing between them?”
“Yes, a far stronger case, which I have learned by way of my wife, since
I last conversed with you on the subject.”
“Ah! What is it?” eagerly demanded the lover.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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