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
“Well, Bart, what do you think of that?” whispered our listener to
himself, as now, on the departure of the girl from the room, he withdrew
from his peeping-hole. “Now, I pretend to say, I wouldn't take a gold
guinea for what we have got through that crack, nor two either, if our
legs will carry us to the village and rally help quick enough to have
that batch of tories nabbed before they are off. But let's jest edge
along against the mother's room, and see if there is any discovery to be
made there, before we start.”
Being equally fortunate in finding an opening into the room to which his
attention was now directed, Bart cautiously peered in; when his eye soon
fell on the solitary occupant, a fine, resolute-looking matron, quietly
employed in knitting by the light of a torch stuck in one of the stone
jambs of the broad fireplace. He, however, had scarcely time to note
these circumstances before the door was softly opened, and the girl who
had just left the other room entered on tiptoe, and whispered in her
mother's ear something that seemed to produce an instant effect on the
hitherto sedate and listless countenance of the latter; for, starting
to her feet, she stood gazing at the other with a flashing eye, and
listening with the keenest interest, as some further particulars were
added to the communication.
“Are you sure he was not fooling you?” said the mother.
“Very sure,” replied the daughter, significantly holding up the Canada
pin.
“Well, Vine,” rejoined the former, with the air of one whose resolution
is taken, “you whip back to your post the same way you came; and see
that you keep him here till--say about midnight,” she added, exchanging
a meaning glance with the daughter, whose hand was already on the latch
to depart.
No sooner had the intermingling tones of conversation in the other room
apprised the woman that her daughter had there joined the unsuspecting
suitor, than, hastily seizing bonnet and shawl, she noiselessly left
the house and glided out into the road. After hesitating a moment here,
respecting the course she should take, apparently, she made up to the
log-fence enclosing an adjoining field, threw herself over it with the
lightness of a boy, and, striking off directly west, almost flew over
the ground till she reached the boundaries of their little opening; when
she fearlessly plunged into the dark and pathless recesses of the
wood lying between her and the main road, to which she was evidently
directing her course.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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