Wau-nan-gee; Or, the Massacre at Chicago: A Romance of the American RevolutionRichardson, Major (John)
General
Wau-nan-gee; Or, the Massacre at Chicago: A Romance of the American Revolution
Richardson, Major (John)
Chicago (Ill.) -- Fiction; Fort Dearborn Massacre, Chicago, Ill., 1812 -- Fiction; Massacres -- Fiction
"I am glad, at least, Winnebeg is with them," remarked Elmsley to
his friend. "Whatever may be purposed by the others, neither he
nor Black Partridge can have any knowledge of it. Has Serjeant
Nixon had that three-pounder run up into the upper floor of the
block-house, Collins?"
"They are at work at it now, sir. I expect it will be all ready by
the time your honor gets there, Mr. Elmsley."
"You are on guard at the gate?"
"I have been where you posted me, sir."
"Good! Is Captain Headley gone out yet?"
"Not yet, your honor. I saw him, as I came along, go towards Doctor
Von Voltenberg's rooms."
"We had better wait then, Ronayne, until he goes forth to assemble
the council; otherwise he may interfere and play the devil with us
all, by countermanding my arrangements."
"And do you really mean to say that you would permit him to do so,
Elmsley? I am sure I would not; for, if ever disobedience to orders
could be justified it is on this occasion."
"I do not exactly say that I would, Ronayne; but it is just as well
to avoid clashing if possible. I confess I am no particular advocate,
where the thing can be avoided, of wilfully and deliberately
thwarting the authority of a commanding officer. But once he is
out of the fort I shall be in command."
Another non-commissioned officer entered. It was Weston, who, that
morning, had been promoted to the dignity of lance corporal, and
the commanding officer's immediate orderly.
"Lieutenant Elmsley, the captain desires me to say that he is
waiting for you and Mr. Ronayne to accompany the doctor and himself
to the council."
"Then," said the subaltern addressed, "you will give my compliments,
Weston, to Captain Headley, and say to him that both Mr. Ronayne
and myself decline attending that council--that we do not think it
prudent to leave the fort without an officer, and that we conceive
that having given our opinions on the matter for which the council
is called, we can be of much more service here than there. Now
mind, Weston, you will deliver this message respectfully, and in
a manner befitting a soldier to his superior."
"Certainly, sir," replied the corporal, as he touched his, cap and
withdrew.
"You will have a visit from himself next, Elmsley," remarked his
wife. "But why refuse to attend the council? There is no enemy
near us, and surely half an hour's absence on the glacis cannot
much endanger the safety of the garrison, surrounded as we are by
friendly Indians."
"Margaret, my love," said her husband, taking her hand affectionately,
"we must trust nothing to chance. No one can tell what may not
occur in the interim of our absence. Who, for instance, could have
foretold yesterday morning that we should be as we are to-day!"
"True," said Ronayne, as he paced the room with sudden and bitter
excitement; "who could have told yesterday that we should be
as we are to-day? There is nothing certain in life--no, nothing--all
is vanity."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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