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
“Miss Haviland will pardon the mistake involved in the sentiment
delivered at Lady Reidesel's table. Its author, however, cannot but
think that the full arrangement which he had supposed to have been
already settled may still be effected in season. And he therefore
proposes, if Miss H. will permit, a call for friendly intercession, at
twilight this evening.”
With a flushed and flashing countenance the offended maiden instantly
sprang to her feet, and paced the room several minutes in silent
agitation. Her naturally mild spirit was at length evidently aroused
for some decided action; and the manner in which it was to be commenced
appeared soon to be determined in her mind.
“Ay, and the step, as bold as it may be, shall first be taken,” she
said, as, preparing to leave the house, her burning thoughts began to
press for utterance. “Ay, if it will not avail me, in bringing aid to
escape from this den of iniquity, or protection to remain, it shall, at
least, serve as a proclamation of villany, which shall yet be heard in
every house and hamlet of the American people!”
The next moment she was in the street; and, with hurried step making
her way to General Reidesel's quarters. Instantly seeking a private
interview with the readily assenting countess, she frankly and without
reserve told the whole story of her wrongs, and implored assistance
in escaping the toils that had been spread for her, or, at least, the
protecting shield of an influence which should enable her to withstand
them. And the effect of her forceful recital soon showed her that she
had not over-estimated the discernment and magnanimity of the noble lady
she was addressing.
“Well, that is right, my bonny rebel, as they call you!” said the
countess, encouragingly. “And it is the spirit in a woman which I like,
and which I will have no hand in repressing. Yes, I see clearly, now,
what I half suspected before--the man who had you brought here, where he
could more surely noose you, is repugnant even to the misery; and some
of those he has been fool enough to enlist as intercessors, are still
more dreaded. Ah! wicked, wicked Briton! But, do you know, he is king
here and that it is treason to talk, and worse treason to try to thwart
him?”
“I have greatly feared so, my lady.”
“What, then, do you propose to do, wherein I could befriend you?”
“Leave the army before night.”
“Have you a carriage at command, and a protector?”
“I have, strictly speaking, neither, madam.”
“Then how can you go?”
“On foot, and alone, unless I chance to engage one to attend me in the
character of a servant.”
“You are a brave one, my young lady. But they will be likely to detain
you at the outposts.”
“I had supposed so, and therefore came here with the hope that, after
you had heard my story, you might be moved to prevail on your husband to
give me a pass.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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