Historical fiction; King Philip's War, 1675-1676 -- Fiction; War stories
So saying, without waiting to hear more of the tale of Eben Dudley, old
Mark Heathcote arose, and assuming the upright attitude usual among the
people of his sect, he addressed himself to prayer. The grave and
awe-struck but deeply confiding congregation imitated his example, and
the lips of the Puritan had parted in the act of utterance, when a low,
faltering note, like that produced by a wind instrument, rose on the
outer air, and penetrated to the place where the family was assembled. A
conch was suspended at the postern, in readiness to be used by any of the
family whom accident or occupation should detain beyond the usual hour of
closing the gates; and both by the direction and nature of this
interruption, it would seem that an applicant for admission stood at the
portal. The effect on the auditors was general and instantaneous.
Notwithstanding the recent dialogue, the young men involuntarily sought
their arms, while the startled females huddled together like a flock of
trembling and timid deer.
"There is, of a certainty, a signal from without!" Content at length
observed, after waiting to suffer the sounds to die away among the angles
of the buildings. "Some hunter, who hath strayed from his path, claimeth
hospitality."
Eben Dudley shook his head like one who dissented, but, having with all
the other youths grasped his musket, he stood as undetermined as the rest
concerning the course it was proper to pursue. It is uncertain how long
this indecision might have continued, had no further summons been given;
but he without appeared too impatient of delay to suffer much time to be
lost. The conch sounded again, and with far better success than before.
The blast was longer, louder, and bolder, than that which had first
pierced the walls of the dwelling, rising full and rich on the air, as
though one well practised in the use of the instrument had placed lips to
the shell.
Content would scarcely have presumed to disobey a mandate coming from his
father, had it been little in conformity with his own intentions. But
second thoughts had already shown him the necessity of decision, and he
was in the act of motioning to Dudley and Reuben Ring to follow, when the
Puritan bade him look to the matter. Making a sign for the rest of the
family to remain where they were, and arming himself with a musket which
had more than once that day been proved to be of certain aim, he led the
way to the postern which has already been so often mentioned.
"Who sounds at my gate?" demanded Content, when he and his followers had
gained a position, under cover of a low earthen mound erected expressly
for the purpose of commanding the entrance; "who summons a peaceful
family, at this hour of the night, to their outer defences?"
"One who hath need of what he asketh, or he would not disturb thy
quiet," was the answer. "Open the postern, Master Heathcote, without
fear; it is a brother in the faith, and a subject of the same laws, that
asketh the boon."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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