“A little time,” he muttered, “but much may happen in it. I may be here tomorrow night—but I trust she will not be.”
“What do you mean?” faltered Kitty.
A bough rustled a few yards off, and he flashed his lantern that way and listened. After a moment he spoke again in a lower tone.
“How does it happen you womenfolk are still in Charlestown? I understood that it had been evacuated.”
“Oh, it has been—nearly. But Granny says she will not abandon my uncle’s property here until she must. She says she will stay and try to keep it intact for him, if she can.”
“It’s been known since April that we might burn the town any day.”
“I know. But time goes on, and you do not do it, and we grow less afraid. And all the while our Army is growing larger and more strong.”
“So is ours,” he retorted. “Three new generals arrived from England; martial law proclaimed in Boston yesterday. General Gage denounced you for rebels and traitors. If you don’t disband and go your ways in peace soon, we’re coming out to make you go.”
“Then I suppose there will be a battle,” sighed Kitty. “I’ll never know why it is men can’t settle a squabble without trying to kill each other.”
Again he flashed the lantern on her face and held it there a moment. Then he spoke to her from out of the dark, and his voice had a different sound.