Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1168 — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

’ — OL A A A OE eee el - ——— Se SPOS eee a SS eee ad ee >» led Sow eee ae Eo ee eee ‘ ' ms oa ¥ - a . . Ns eee ew i re re, ee ee, | Oe — , : - ‘10 ee ee eee “ Are.these not times to try men’s souls, grand- father?” she per “Yes; but what have you, a girl—a child, to fear?” * As much as any girl, who has an old grandfather able to be killed at any time by the provincials,”’ ‘“‘Provincials!"’ drawled the old man with all the bitter contempt he could throw into the word, and bis looks; * Agnes, for mercy sake, don’t speak of those rebels in such mild terms, or [I shall think your long visit at Melross farm has turned you into a lit- tle rebe!. I know your uncle is a rebel at heart, as is nearlyevery Scotch-Irishmanin America. I hope, my child, you are not pining for associations you left behind on Stony Brook—associations that would be a dishonor to the name of the Fairgnonts, of which my child, who was your mother, was a noble off- epring. ‘The escutcheon of our house was pointed out as one of the proudest and most honored of Eng- jand’s families; and I pray, my child, that you, who are the last direct descendant of my family, will en- deavor to perpetuate our name. Your cousin Clem- ent Fairmont, to whom you were betrothed in your childhood, according to the customs of old England's first families, will certainly visit us soon, have not seen Clement, myself, since he was a boy of four; that was when I went back to England ona visit some sixteen years ago. But they say heisa royal youngster, handsome and gallant as a young knight. I know you will be pleased with him, Agnes; and, that he will make you a kind and loving hus- band. You are now seventeen and I am seventy. My days are about numbered; the sands of life run, and yet before I go, I want to see you settled in life. You are old enough now to think for yourself Agnes, and see the great propriety of what I mos ayxiously desire for your good, and that of our family name.” Agnes appeared to listen intently to her nd- father’s words; but they nowise met with her happy approval, She had never seen the cousin to whom she had been betrothed in her babyhood, and inward- ly wed jn that she never should, The image of her boy lover, Delaware Dick, was constantly before her; and down in the silent depths of her heart of hearts there slumbered a feeble ray of holy light which, in itself, was a beacon of hope reaching be yond the selfish motives of her kinsman. **Grandpapa,’’ she finally said, ‘* suppose I do not like Clement Fairmont?” “There is no danger but you will, if you fix your whole mind and heart upon the consummation of the one object,” “I don’t like the manners of those young Eng- lisimen,ygrandpapa,”’ “Ah! you have become thoroughly Americanized my child,” replied the old man a little bitterly; “Tt Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. a | —_—- -—____——___ -— _.,, OS -—Cti—(CiC re Ss -—— ‘Yes; and this morning was joined by the re- | lition of the will—that it clung to its strangely con doubtable Prodigal Tom, and ten men, which makes my force now quite respectable.”’ ‘Prodigal Tom!” exclaimed the colonel, “ they tell me he’s a rollicking young daredevil from the worl go. You must bring him down, captain; I merely spoke to him the night of the fire, and I pre- sume he thinks I was rather indifferent, but— ”’ “He could have expected nothing else under the circumstances, golonal ” interrupted the officer with a rude indifference; ‘ brodigal om isa very sensible and considerate young soldier. Ihave but one fault to find with him.” * What is that, captain?” ‘‘He resembles his brother, Delaware Dick, too much to make one altogether comfortable,” ** Do i think so?” replied the colonel; ‘“ well, now, I thought differently the other night when he stood revealed to me in the light of my burning home. But then one’s features in such lights don’t look natural, I admit.”’ At mention of her lover’s name, es’s face col- ored.in spite of herself; and to conceal her emotions, which could have been nothing else than those of rief and sorrow, she arose, and walking to the win- ow, gazed out over the field and interminable stretch of woods beyond, her eyes swimming in a mist of tears, * Well,” British Bill said, ‘I will bring bim down here some day, and you can have a fair look at the prodigal son. We may remain at Cross Hollows several days,” ‘**Good! Good!’ exclaimed thy old royalist, gush- ing over with enthusiasm; ‘if you do remain, I want you to make Fairmont Place a kind of a ren- dezvous, if our limited hospitality will in any respect repay you for so doing. Weave indebted to you captain, for what little we have left of our home.’ “Thank you, Mr. Fairmont; I shall endeavor to accept of your proffered hospitality with pleasure.”’ za rmont arose, and advancing toward the door, Said: ‘*Excuse my presence a moment, captain; had almost forgotten to order your horse stabled and groomed.” Before British Bill could enter a protest, in case he desired to do so, the old colonel glided out of the room, leaving Agnes to entertain their guest, This the maiden did reluctantly, although she art- fully concealed her aversion to the: young Tory in an amiable conversation. Agnes had met Captain Walton frequently, and, in the meantime, noticed that his visits to }'airmont were being attended with unusual interest. And what surprised her most was, the encouragement her grand-parent gave him, and the adroit and skillfuk manner in whick he always wesume you can see traits to admire in a young | managed to bring them—Agnes and the captain— uckskin, where all is gross vulgarity in a gallant young Englishman, For illustration, you take Cap- tain William Walton, otherwise known as British BiH, and Delaware Dick, and note the difference there was in them. The one is possessed of all the courtesy and refinement of an English gentleman; while the young rebel, peace be to his ashes, was coarse and illiterate.”’ ‘“* British Bill's outward appearance is thal of a gallant young officer; but if Clement Fairmont’s character is no better than his, there will be no at- traction forme about him. It is not the form and blandishments* that make the man in my eyes, but the soul, the image of God.” ‘What have you against Captain Bill’s character Agnes? Is it a crime to fight for one’s king and country, as heis doing? Were he that yong rebel Delaware Dick, whose dust mingles with the ashes of cee burnt home, then you might talk about charac- ar,” Agnes bit her quivering lips to keep down the re- ba‘lious emotions struggling for utterance. Her face became flushed, and her eyes burned with an unusual luster, HNer grandfather noticed her excite- ment, and continued: “IT see, my child, that you are about three-fourths mbel, 1 am sorry now that I ever permitted you to g.) over to your uncle’s on the Stony. I know they anv allrebels over there; and so you’ve become in- ocu'lated with that atmosphere.”’ Before Agnes could reply, the clatter of hoofs near the door arrested their attention, and the next mo- ment a horseman drew rein and dismounted in front ee house. A glance told them who it was—Brit- The young, ro captain was received into the humble home of the Fairmonts, by a hearty welcome from the colonel, and a lady-like indifference by Ag- nes, At heart, the latter felt a loathing terror for e enemy who had struck at the life of him she oved; but being ssed of the power of self-con- trol, she managed to disguise her feelings. British Bill was a s mee of perfect manhood gh erg but mo he had been found wanting that honor and principle which characterizes a brave and true soldier. He was insolent and abusive te the conquered, cruel and merciless to his prisone’s, ‘*My dear friends,” he said with affec grace, as he seated himself, “I am pleased—delighted to ow that you still have acomfortable home.” “Thank you, tain,” replied the old man, “ but then it is somewhRt of a damper on Fairmont pride to be a down to a level with the servants and tenants.”’ ‘If we fare no worse, grandfather, we will have escaped better than some,” es remarked. 5 ae need have fin at the Scarlet Win my friends,’ young partisan; “for they will not ven hereaways soonagain. If they should, I will be ready for them.” “ Certainly, ly,” affirmed soy you are still ehcamped ws.” the colonel; ‘I at the Cross Hol- together. She would have thought HOLDS partic- ular of this, had the old man not been so firmly set upon her marrying &@ Man she had never seen—her cousin, Clement fairmont, The young folks discussed the general topics of the day in a very matter-of-fact way, and it was a great relief to es when the colonel returned. By this time it was sunset, and the twang of a horn caused British Bill to start uneasily. . Rising, he advanced to the door and looked out. He saw ia couple of dogs running down toward the negro ser- vants’ cabia, where a number of blacks were-gath- Seed, in a little knot, oxe with a tin horn in his and, “Tt’s nothing, captain,” said Fairmont, noticin the officer’s uneasiness; “it’s only them confound niggers calling in their forces for a coon-hunt. I've got to put a stow to that night-rambling through the woods, or some niggers ’ll come up missing.” British Bill returned to his seat, Lg es, Po- litely excusing herself, left the parlor and passed into the kitchen, where Miss Kathleen O’Doon was busily engaged in the preparation of supper. ‘* Faith, Agnis, me darlint, and mees thought sure yees war niver coming,” the Celtic maid exclaimed. ‘We have company, and it was impossible for me to get away any sooner. British Bill is in the ‘par- lor, : ayes Agnes in alow, guarded tone. “Bad ’cess to the ‘loping bla’g’ard!”’ exclaimed Kathleen, indignantly, for her sympathies were with her lover, who was a soldier under Washington. ‘Be very careful, Kathie,” whispered her young mistress, *‘and don't let grandpapa find out that we are real patriots, or it will be all our lives are worth,” : ‘Och, choild! and it’s not the tongue of Kathleen O’Doon that will betray us.” ** Haveyou the basket filled?” asked Aynes, as she suddenly caught ht of a black face peeping through a clump of liilac-bushes back of the house, “This long whoile, me darlint. There it is with cold chicken, nice. bread, cold meats, a bottle of poteen, and lots ave noice dainties.”’ es picked up the basket and peseng- on at the -door, approached the bushes where she had seen the black face. A negro lad was there to meet her; and to him she gave the basket withsome hastily de- livered instructions, Then turning, she re-entered the house; while the black boy crept around the park unperceived, and joined his friends in front of the cabin. The next minute the black ’coon-hunters were off for the scene of their nocturnal sports. ok toi Walton took tea with the Fairmonts that eve ; and about dusk mounted his horse and started on his return to Cross Hollow. As he rode along his mind was busied with other thoughts than those of the war; his heart filled with other feelings than those of poarelhy for the crown. They were thoughts and feeli at were burning their way in- to his very soul, He tried to dismiss them—throw them aside as he would some feousn vagaries; but he found that his heart failed to respond to the vo- | were returned to their owner. | | eS ei emotions with unyielding Grmness and devo ion. A face, the fair and lovel risin that face of Agnes Melro up before his mental vision, told British B € was in love with the young mistress of Fair- mont. It was his first love, yet it wasa deep, burn- ing and passionate love—a love that would Chat no trifiing—brook no rival. CHAPTER XVII. CAPTURE OF PRODIGAL TOM. Tre Scarlet Wings under Harry Banks disappeared from the vicinity of Fairmont Piace a day or two af. ter the loss of their leader, Delaware Dick. Veing aware of the presence of British Bill and Prodiga Tom in the as iceset ones they felt that it would folly to contend with the consolidated forces of the two Tory leaders; so they turned their course south» ward and were making their way toward Princeton when they were met by Major Dalrymple with a small party of dragoous that Washington had dig patched in pursuit of British Bill. It required no extra inducement to persuade the Scarlet Wings to turn back, and, after a short con- ference, Harry Banks led the way in the direction of Fairmont Place. On the following day they en- camped in the great forest bordering on the old colo- nel’s fine estate; and before another night bad set in, Dalrymple had arranged a reconnoissance in the direction of Britich Bill's camp. The Scarlet Wings heartily accepted his proposed plans, and as soon as darkness had fully set in, Lieu- tenant Harry Banks and five of his band were ready | to accompany the major and his party of ten select- edmen. They made their way on foot in the direc. tion of Fairmont Place; and after an hour’s rapid marching they came to the end of the broad avenue or Jane leading by the house. As the moon was shining brightly, flooding field and forest with its mellow radiance, the major or- dered a halt within the Lorder of shadows in order to ascertain whether or not the way beyond was clear, before venturing out from cover of the woods. He and young Banks crept forward to a point where they could command a fair view of the open district, and with keen eyes searched the fields and road be- fore them. They saw nothing whatever, but the imagined they could hear the faint stroke of hoofed- feet somewhere in the distance. The sound was so indistinct that they were inclined to doubt their own hearing at first; but by waiting they soon found it was no delusion. It grew plainer and plainer until there was no doubt of the point frum whence it ema- nated; and peer fk y the cutlines of a horseman were gradually unfolded from the depths of the dis- tanee. He was coming down the lane from the direction of Fairmont Place, and the two patriots saw the flash of military trappings about him, and heard the jingle of a saber. ‘It’s a British officer,” whispered Dalrymple, | drawing his pistol. ‘‘Ay, major!’ responded Lientenant Banks, itd mistake not, it is the notorieus Prodigal Tom.’ “Smoke of sacrifice!’’ exclaimed the major, ** then we must capture him at all hazards!” ‘Yes; but there he has stopped. Can he have seen us?” — * impossible; but step back a little further into the shadows.”’ The horseman had stopped, sure enough, about fifty yarcs from them, and close by the side of an old tree that stood near the road. But.the patriots watched every movement he made. They saw him lean over in the stirrups and put his hand into a bole in the side of the tree. When he withdrew it, they saw that it contained a paper, and knew at once that the tree was a secret post-office. where the young Tory received and delivered letters, Prodigal Tom, for the horscman was Tom, opened the note intending to read it by moonlight, but be- are he had scarcely read the date, a voice cried out: ‘“* Surrender! or by heavens, you shail die!” The paper dropped from his hand, so like a death- knell did the words fal upon hisears. He turned his eyes and to his horror saw a score of patriots emerge from the woods and advance toward him, with mus- kets on a level with his breast. ‘‘Dismount, sir, and surrender,” again demanded Major Dalrymple, as, at the head of his men, he moved rapidly toward the motionless young Tory. ‘*T will do so, on condition that Iam treated as a prisoner of war,’’ the youth £aid. ‘*Tt is not for you to make conditions, sir,”’ return- ed the major; ‘nothing but an unconditional sur- render will be accepted.” **Oh, that indeed!” replied. Prodigal Tom, sarcas- eats ‘well, as you are Only about twenty azainst me, I presume I will have to accede to your impera- tive demand,” So saying, he dismounted and gave himself up, when he was at once conducted back to camp, Here he was disarmed and searched, and among the effects found upon his person, was a leether case containing two queer-Jooking instruments and two vials of liquids that puzzled the whole command, Even the erudite surgeon Eleazer Gwynpane, with all his medical and surgical lore, was unable to as- sign the liquids any place in the Malema Medica, or recall the purpose to which the instruments could be applied in surgery. Both instruments were alike, sharp as needles at one end and hollow to the very point. They sug- gested the idea of a druggist’s drepping-tube, bat were too delicate to be used for that purpose. Upon Surgeon Gwynpane deciding t both in- struments and liquids were perfectiy }, they =Eom OT PD” 4: ; * — a = es “ 30 OF er « . SS ee: x 7 ~J m—. —— . 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