Historical fiction; King Philip's War, 1675-1676 -- Fiction; War stories
In the same peaceful manner did the sun set successively three several
times, and as often did it arise on the abode of the Heathcotes, without
further sign of danger, or motive of alarm. With the passage of time, the
agents of the Stuart gradually regained their confidence. Still they never
neglected to withdraw within the protection of the block house with the
retiring light; a post which the subordinate named Hallam, more than once
gravely observed, they were, by their disciplined and military habits,
singularly qualified to maintain. Though the Puritan secretly chafed under
this protracted visit, habitual self-denial, and a manner so long subdued,
enabled him to conceal his disgust. For the first two days after the
alarm, the deportment of his guests was unexceptionable. All their
faculties appeared to be engrossed with keen and anxious watchings of the
forest, out of which it would seem they expected momentarily to see issue
a band of ferocious and ruthless savages: but symptoms of returning levity
began to be apparent, as confidence and a feeling of security increased,
with the quiet passage of the hours.
It was on the evening of the third day from that on which they had made
their appearance in the settlement, that the man called Hallam was seen
strolling, for the first time, through the postern so often named, and
taking a direction which led towards the out-buildings. His air was less
distrustful than it had been for many a weary hour, and his step
proportionably confident and assuming. Instead of wearing, as he had been
wont, a pair of heavy horseman's pistols at his girdle, he had even laid
aside his broadsword, and appeared more in the guise of one who sought his
personal ease, than in that cumbersome and martial attire which all of his
party, until now, had deemed it prudent to maintain. He cast his glance
cursorily over the fields of the Heathcotes, as they glowed under the soft
light of a setting sun; nor did his eye even refuse to wander vacantly
along the outline of that forest, which his imagination had so lately been
peopling with beings of a fierce and ruthless nature.
The hour was one when rustic economy brings the labors of the day to a
close. Among those who were more than usually active at that busy moment,
was a handmaiden of Ruth, whose clear sweet voice was heard, in one of the
inclosures, occasionally rising on the notes of a spiritual song, and as
often sinking to a nearly inaudible hum, as she extracted from a favorite
animal liberal portions of its nightly tribute to the dairy of her
mistress. To that inclosure the stranger, as it were by accident, suffered
his sauntering footsteps to stroll, seemingly as much in admiration of the
sleek herd as of any other of its comely tenants.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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