Historical fiction; King Philip's War, 1675-1676 -- Fiction; War stories
Then casting a glance of ill-concealed levity at one of his followers, who
had come to say that their steeds awaited, he made the parting salutation
with an air, in which the respect that one like the Puritan could scarce
fail to excite, struggled with his habitual contempt for things of a
serious character.
The family of Mark Heathcote, the lowest dependant included, saw these
strangers depart with great inward satisfaction. Even the maidens, in whom
nature, in moments weaker than common, had awakened some of the lighter
vanities, were gladly rid of gallants, who could not soothe their ears
with the unction of flattery, without frequently giving great offence to
their severe principles, by light and irreverent allusions to things on
which they themselves were accustomed to think with fitting awe. Eben
Dudley could scarcely conceal the chuckle with which he saw the party bury
themselves in the forest, though neither he, nor any of the more
instructed in such matters, believed they incurred serious risk from their
sudden enterprise.
The opinions of the scouts proved to be founded on accurate premises. That
and many a subsequent night passed without alarm. The season continued to
advance, and the laborers pursued their toil to its close, without another
appeal to their courage, or any additional reasons for vigilance. Whittal
Ring followed his colts with impunity, among the recesses of the
neighboring forests; and the herds of the family went and came, as long as
the weather would permit them to range the woods, in regularity and peace.
The period of the alarm, and the visit of the agents of the Crown, came to
be food for tradition; and during the succeeding winter, the former often
furnished motive of merriment around the blazing fires that were so
necessary to the country and the season.
Still there existed in the family a living memorial if the unusual
incidents of that night. The captive remained, long after the events
which had placed him in the power of the Heathcotes were beginning to be
forgotten.
A desire to quicken the seeds of spiritual regeneration, which, however
dormant they might be, old Mark Heathcote believed to exist in the whole
family of man, and consequently in the young heathen as well as in others,
had become a sort of ruling passion in the Puritan. The fashions and mode
of thinking of the times had a strong leaning towards superstition; and it
was far from difficult for a man of his ascetic habits and exaggerated
doctrines, to believe that a special interposition had cast the boy into
his hands, for some hidden but mighty purpose, that time in the good
season would not fail to reveal.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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