"You shall see," she said, in a temper, "you shall see me in flowered caushets, silk stockings, and shoes of Paddington's make, which befit my station and rank! You shall see me in padusoy and ribbons and a hat of gauze! I shall wear pompadour gloves and shall take no notice of you, with your big hands and feet, pardieu!"
"Nor I of you," said I, "tricked out in your silly flummery." And I drew a caraway from my pocket and bit deep.
"Yes, you will," said Silver Heels; "give me a caraway, piggy."
Sitting there in the dark, nibbling in silence, I could hear the distant stir of the convoy at the barracks, and wondered why the soldiers had come. Surely not because of danger to us at the Hall, for we had our Mohawks, our militia, and yeoman tenantry at beck and call. Besides, who would dare threaten Sir William Johnson, the greatest man in the colonies, and very dearly esteemed by our King?
"They say," said Silver Heels, "that there are men in Boston who have even defied the King himself."
"Never fear," said I, "they'll all hang for it."
"Would you like to fight for the King?" she asked, civilly, and without a trace of that mockery which left a sting, much as I pretended to despise it.
I said I should like to very much; that my father had died for his King, and that I should one day avenge him.
I would have said more, perhaps boasted, for Silver Heels was inclined to listen; but black Betty came down-stairs, her double ear-rings a-jingle, calling her "li'l Miss Honey-bee" to come to bed.
Silver Heels stood up, rubbing her eyes and stretching. I could not help noticing that she seemed to be growing very tall.