Now Edmund had just been hard at work loading that wood, to carry it to a neighbor to whom it was sold.
Both wagon and oxen belonged to his father.
“Come, hurry!” said the horseman.
“I shall not do it!” said Edmund.
“What—sirrah!” cried the ruffian, “we shall see who will do it!” and he flourished his sword over the boy’s head, swearing and threatening to cut him down unless he instantly obeyed.
“Seeking for some firm spot of entrance”—PAGE 82.
Edmund stood unflinchingly, fiercely eyeing the enraged soldier.
Just then a little boy, Charles, the son of a neighbor, ran into the house and told Mrs. Pattison that “a Britisher was going to kill her Edmund.” She rushed to the barn, begged the soldier to stop, pleaded with her son to unload the wood and so save his life.
“No fear of death, mother; he dare not touch a hair of my head.”