I must admit that the poetry is not what might be called exceedingly fine; but it was made next night in camp by one of our Regulators, and because of such fact I think it well to set it down in this story.
Well, bow and cringe as he might, our people would not listen to Fanning, and Master Hamilton told him sharply to get to the rear lest he be trampled under the feet of the horses.
"We'll have neither you nor your liquor," he cried angrily, "and unless you get out of sight I'll not be answerable for the temper of these good friends who have come in search of Masters Husband and Hunter."
CHAPTER III.
PROMISES.
"The sooner we march into Hillsborough and make an attack on the jail, the better for the Cause," Sidney Hubbard whispered to me when Fanning had come to understand that not one in all our company was willing to hob-nob with him. "To sit idly here is much like admitting we are afraid to do that which we have threatened, or as if we doubted the righteousness of our mission."
It was not for one like me, who knew nothing whatsoever of warfare, to criticize what Master Hamilton might see fit to do, and yet I held much the same opinion as did Sidney.
It would have been more to my liking had we crossed the river at full speed, surrounded the jail, and forced the keepers to deliver up the keys without parley.
I would have had the matter settled in one way or another, within ten minutes, and surely there would be no more treason in the act if done quickly, than if we dawdled around half a day listening to the vaporings of those who claimed to be loyal servants of the king.
We were yet drawn up in line, gazing at the town as if trying to decide whether we would go forward or back, when Master David Edwards, Governor Tryon's secretary, rode up opposite us, halted an instant to view the scene properly, and then began fording the stream.
"Whether yonder royalist will try to frighten or cajole us, he is setting about the business in proper fashion," Sidney whispered approvingly. "He can't be accused of wasting time."