The old marksman sprang up in a fury of wrath. "Dad blast ye for a pair
of aim-sp'ilin'--"
A roar of musketry cut the rebuke in half, and a storm of bullets smote
through the branches overhead. A falling bough knocked my hat off, and I
stooped to recover it. When I rose, Dick was clipping the old man
tightly in his arms. Yeates's belt was cut, and a little oozing
well-spring of red was slowly soaking the fringe of his hunting-shirt.
"Ease me down, Cap'n Dick; ease me down. The old man's done for, this
time, ez I allow--spang in the innards. Ease me down and get off for
yerselves, if so be ye can, im--me--jit--"
The wagging jaw dropped and the keen old eyes went dim and sightless.
Dick's oath was more a sob than an imprecation; and now it was I who
said: "Come on--the living before the dead!" and so we made the
well-nigh hopeless dash for the horses.
How we rode free out of that hurly-burly at the ford-head you must
figure for yourselves, if you can. The men of the British vanguard were
all about us when we got to the scrub oak thicket and mounted, but no
one of them raised a hand to stay us. I have thought since that mayhap
they took us for a pair of their own Tory allies who were not above
wearing the stolen uniforms of the dead. Be that as it may, we rode away
unhindered, Dick in all the bravery of his captain's slashings, and I
in light-horse buff and blue, taking the road toward the manor house
because that was the only one open to us, and ambling leisurely till we
were beyond the sight and sound of the victors at the ford.
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