Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy (Complete)Richardson, Major (John)
General
Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy (Complete)
Richardson, Major (John)
Pontiac's Conspiracy, 1763-1765 -- Fiction
No other officer spoke, for all were oppressed by the weight of their
own feelings, and sought rather to give indulgence to speculation in
secret, than to share their impressions with their companions. Charles
de Haldimar stood a little in the rear, leaning his head upon his hand
against the box of the sentry, (who was silently, though anxiously,
pacing his walk,) and in an attitude expressive of the deepest
dejection and sorrow.
"I suppose I must finish Lawson's work, although I am but a poor hand
at this sort of thing," resumed Captain Erskine, taking up the prayer
book the adjutant had, in hastening on the first alarm to get the men
under arms, carelessly thrown on the grave of the now unconscious
Murphy.
He then commenced the service at the point where Mr. Lawson had so
abruptly broken off, and went through the remainder of the prayers. A
very few minutes sufficed for the performance of this solemn duty,
which was effected by the faint dim light of the at length dawning day,
and the men in attendance proceeded to fill up the grave of their
officer.
Gradually the mists, that had fallen during the latter hours of the
night, began to ascend from the common, and disperse themselves in air,
conveying the appearance of a rolling sheet of vapour retiring Back
upon itself, and disclosing objects in succession, until the eye could
embrace all that came within its extent of vision. As the officers yet
lingered near the rude grave of their companion, watching with
abstracted air the languid and almost mechanical action of their jaded
men, as they emptied shovel after shovel of the damp earth over the
body of its new tenant, they were suddenly startled by an expression of
exultation from Sir Everard Valletort.
"By Jupiter, I have pinked him," he exclaimed triumphantly. "I knew my
rifle could not err; and as for my sight, I have carried away too many
prizes in target-shooting to have been deceived in that. How delighted
the old governor will be, Charles, to hear this. No more lecturing, I
am sure, for the next six months at least;" and the young officer
rubbed his hands together, at the success of his shot, with as much
satisfaction and unconcern for the future, as if he had been in his own
native England; in the midst of a prize-ring.
Roused by the observation of his friend, De Haldimar quitted his
position near the sentry box, and advanced to the outer edge of the
rampart. To him, as to his companions, the outline of the old bomb
proof was now distinctly visible, but it was sometime before they could
discover, in the direction in which Valletort pointed, a dark speck
upon the common; and this so indistinctly, they could scarcely
distinguish it with the naked eye.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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