“Davy,” whispered Tom again, “how'd ye like to see the little feller to home?”
I pinched him again, and harder this time, for I was at a loss for adequate words. The muscles of his legs were as hard as the strands of a rope, and his buckskin breeches frozen so that they cracked under my fingers.
Suddenly a flickering light arose ahead of us, and another, and we saw that they were candles beginning to twinkle through the palings of the fort. These were badly set, the width of a man's hand apart. Presently here comes a soldier with a torch, and as he walked we could see from crack to crack his bluff face all reddened by the light, and so near were we that we heard the words of his song:—
"O, there came a lass to Sudbury Fair,
With a hey, and a ho, nonny-nonny!
And she had a rose in her raven hair,
With a hey, and a ho, nonny-nonny!"
“By the etarnal!” said Tom, following the man along the palings with the muzzle of his Deckard, “by the etarnal! 'tis like shootin' beef.”
A gust of laughter came from somewhere beyond. The burly soldier paused at the foot of the blockhouse.
“Hi, Jem, have ye seen the General's man? His Honor's in a 'igh temper, I warrant ye.”
It was fortunate for Jem that he put his foot inside the blockhouse door.
“Now, boys!”
It was Williams's voice, and fourteen rifles sputtered out a ragged volley.