“Nobody. But the colonel’s man took one of those bays and started for the Mills an hour ago.”
“I d’know as I like the sound of that,” muttered Jonas. “I wish these folks warn’t here—that I do. They aint meanin’ no good—”
“Hush!” whispered Hadley, warningly.
From the wide tavern door there suddenly appeared the British colonel’s daughter. She was indeed a pretty girl and her smile was infectious. Even Jonas’ face cleared at sight of her and he hastened, as well as a man of his portliness could, to set a chair for her.
“It is very beautiful here,” Miss Lillian said, “and so peaceful. I got so tired in New York seeing soldiers everywhere and hearing about war. It doesn’t seem as though anything ever happened here.”
“I b’lieve something’s goin’ to happen b’fore long, though,” the landlord whispered anxiously to Hadley, and walked to the other end of the porch, leaving the two young people together.
“It is usually very quiet about here,” Hadley said, trying to speak easily to the guest. He was not at all used to girls, and Miss Lillian was altogether out of his class. He felt himself rough and uncouth in her presence. “But we see soldiers once in a while.”
“Our soldiers?” asked the girl, smiling.
“No—not British soldiers,” Hadley replied, slowly.
“Oh, you surely don’t call those ragamuffin colonists soldiers, do you?” she asked, quickly.