Part 41 (2/2)
”Mayhap I could, master.”
”Well, then, watch for it, and so soon as any craft of any color, be it one of your squirrels on a chip, an Indian in a canoe, or a French man-of-war, send this boy Cooke tumbling down the hill to bring the news. Now, man, show thy discretion and thy wit.”
”Ay, ay, Captain, you may trust Bill Trevor for a keen lookout. When I sailed aboard a whaler”--
But already the Captain was out of hearing, and presently was inspecting his little army, mustered in the Town Square, each man armed and armored.
Drawn up in two ranks the twenty men presented a striking array, for in the forefront stood the governor, the elder, the surgeon, Winslow, Allerton, Warren, Hopkins, Howland, Alden, and Peter Browne, ancestor of John Brown of Ossawatomie; while the file closers, if not men of equal note in affairs, were each one a st.u.r.dy and determined Englishman, ready to fight till the death and never guess that he could be conquered.
The inspection over, the train band was dismissed with orders to stand ready to rea.s.semble at a moment's warning, and meantime to make such dispositions of private property as seemed good to each man.
Hardly was this order obeyed when from the Fort came Trevor's sonorous hail,--
”Sail ho!” and presently young Cooke came pelting down the hill reporting with a military salute to the captain.
”Trevor saith, sir, that a s.h.i.+p of not over sixty ton is drawing around Manomet, and that she flieth no colors as yet.”
”Ha! Let us see then, let us see!” cried the captain, and two minutes later was at the top of the hill, gla.s.s in hand.
”Hm! Square rigged, slender built--what say you, Trevor, is she a Frenchman?”
”More like a Dutchman to my mind, sir.”
”Ah, then were we all right, and with a goodly new store of schnapps to comfort our souls, but my mind mis...o...b..s me. Now let us see if we can train this saker to command the offing. Boy, run down the hill and fetch Billington and Master Hopkins. 'T will do no harm, and may--ay, this minion will sweep the Rock like a new broom. Here, Billington, come on man and lend me thy bull's neck and shoulders. I would s.h.i.+ft the carriage of this saker. Ho, Hopkins, give us a little help here. There yeo-ho, men! Again, now then--yeo-ho! Now we have it, now! There, settle her in place, that's it, there! Now then, Trevor, how about the Frenchman?”
”She is laying her course for this harbor, Captain. You may see her without the gla.s.s well enow, for she's going about to fetch Beach Point.”
”Is tide high enow to carry her over Brown's Islands, as Champlain calleth the outer flats?” asked Hopkins, who by fits liked to appear erudite.
”Ay, 't is full water at noon to-day,” replied Trevor, his eye glued to the gla.s.s.
”Now then, now then, here she is making straight into the harbor,”
exclaimed Standish excitedly, and plunging down the hill followed by the rest, he made signal to Bart Allerton standing expectant at his own door to sound the ”a.s.sembly” upon the trumpet which he had learned to manage with great precision.
Ten minutes later the whole array of fighting men stood steady in their ranks, with the larger boys hanging in the rear, each carrying a spare gun, or some other weapon, and all eyes fixed upon the point where the stranger would appear as she beat her way into the harbor.
Suddenly the captain waved his hand above his head, glancing up at the Fort where, under the folds of the British standard, stood Trevor, linstock in hand. Another moment, and out from the hoa.r.s.e throat of the saker roared a defiant peal echoing grandly from hill to hill, startling the savages who covertly watched the arrival of new foes or new friends as the case might be, and rolling ominously across the waters of the harbor to demand the name of the intruder.
”They be busy with their ancient-staff,” reported Trevor presently, as he resumed the spy-gla.s.s. ”There goes the bunting--ha--ay--run boy, and tell the captain 't is the red cross of Merrie England; 't is the home colors, boy!”
But already the eager eyes in the Town Square had recognized the flag, and Standish lapsing from the martinet into the exile waved Gideon above his head shouting,--
”'T is our own flag, men; 't is the red cross of Old England! Three cheers boys, three cheers for the dear old flag! Now then!”
And the glad shout arose, and again and again, not only from the bearded throats of men, but in the shrill treble of boys, and the dainty voices of girls, who just out of sight watched as women do, when life and honor hang in the balance.
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