University of Virginia Library

14. CHAP. XIV.

WITH regard to Teague whom we
left in the hands of the unob, having
been carted about the village, until
the eyes of all were satiated with the spectacle,
he was dismissed, but ordered to depart
from what was called the survey, under
the penalty of being seized again, and
hanged on the liberty pole, to which they
pointed at the same time, and on which
there was a cross bar, which appeared to
render it convenient for that purpose.

The unfortunate officer was not slow to
take the hint, but as soon as he was out
of their hands, made his way to the wilderness.
There we shall leave him for the
present, and return to the Captain, whom
we left in the village, and who had been
employed during the occasion, reasoning
with

with the people, and endeavouring first
to divert them from the outrage, and afterwards
to convince them of the error
of it, and the danger of the consequences.
Instead of allaying their fervour,
and convincing their judgments, it
had begun to provoke, and irritate exceedingly;
and gave birth to surmises that
he was an accomplice of the excise officer,
which in a short time grew into a rumour,
that he meant to continue the inspection office,
and substitute the North Briton as a
deputy in the room of O'Regan, until his
return. Under this impression, assembling
next day, they proceeded to pull down
the inspection office altogether, and to enquire
for the Captain and his valet, that
they might tar and feather them also.

The Captain having had a hint of this,
and judging from the experiment he had
made, that it was in vain to oppose the violence
of the people, outrather to yield to it
for the present, thought proper to withdraw
from the village for a time, and take his
rout to wards the mountains, where he might
remain at some farm house, until a more
peaceable state of things should take place.

He had travelled the greater part of the
day, and towards evening when he began
to

to think of taking quarters for the night,
he came to a narrow valley at the foot of
the mountain, with a small, but a clear
and rapid stream running through the valley,
which had the appearance in some
parts of a natural meadow, there being intervals
of grass plats of considerable extent,
with hazel copses, and groupes of
young trees. The tall timber on the
height above, formed an agreeable shade,
and ledges of stone, worn smooth by the
water in some places, making small but
perpendicular falls in the current of the
water. Dismounting, and delaying a little
in this spot, to let the horse take a mouthful
of the grass, and deliberating whether
if no habitation appeared, it might not be
agreeable enough to take a bed there on
the natural sward for the night; having a
small quantity of provisions in Duncan's
wallet, and a flask of whiskey, which they
haltily put up at setting out.

At this instant, an aged and venerable
looking man descended from the mountain,
with a slender and delicately formed
young lad accompanying him, having on his
shoulder the carcase of a racoon, which he
held by the hinder feet, and which probably
ably

had been cut out of a hollow tree, or
taken in a trap, that afternoon.

The Captain thought with himself, that
he would have no great objection to have
an invitation from the old man and his son,
as he supposed him to be, to go home with
them, and lodge for the night; taking it
for granted from the appearance of understanding
in the countenance, that they
were of a grade of education above the
bulk of the people of that country. It so
happened, after explanation had taken
place, that he did receive an invitation,
and went home with them.

The residence was romantic, situate on
a small eminence on the north side of the
valley which running east and west, the
sun struck it with his first beams, and the
zephyrs, playing in the direct line of their
course, fanned it in the summer heats. A
small cascade at a little distance, with a sandy
bottom, afforded a delightful bathing
place; and the murmur of the falling water,
in the silence of the night, was favourable
to sleep.

It was a cabbin of an oblong figure,
perhaps twenty by twelve feet, consisting
of two apartments, the one small, and serving
as a kitchen, the other answering the
pur-

purposes of hall, parlour, and bed room.
—The family consisted of the old man, the
young lad his son, and an attendant who
acted as cook, butler, and valet de chambre.
Duncan having rubbed and combed
the Captain's horse, and turned him loose
to eat, was stowed away in the kitchen,
while the racoon was barbecued for supper,
and the Captain with the host, and
his son, were pursuing the explanation of
what they respectively were; being yet in
a great degree unknown to each other.

It appeared that the old man was the
Marquis de Marnessie, who had been an
emigrant from France, a short time after
the commencement of the present revolution,
and had served some time in a corps
of 10,000 men, which had been formed of
the nobility, under the combined princes,
against the republic. Having been under
the necessity of abandoning his seats with
precipitation, he had been able to carry
with him, but a few thousand livres. These
had been reduced in supporting himself
and friends in the service, and he had
brought but a few hundred to America This
country he had been led to seek, disgusted
with the combined powers, when the stipulations
of the convention of Pilnitz, began
to

to transpire, and the object appeared to
be, not so much to support the monarchy,
as to divide the country: chagrined also
with that neglect, and even contumely, experienced
from the German princes who
appeared to think with contempt of their
services, and to repose their confidence alone,
in their own forces, and discipline.

Coming to America, he had retired
from the sea coast, both to be out of the
way of the French democrats in the towns,
and in order to occupy a less expensive
residence. He had found this valley unappropriated
by the state, a warrant for an
hundred acres of which he obtained from
the land office, at the low rate of fifty
shillings; and having cleared a small spot,
had made a garden, and cultivated what
is called a patch of Indian corn, subsisting
and amusing himself and his family, chiefly
by trapping and hunting in the neighbouring
mountain; wishing to forget his
former feelings, and to live upon the earth
as regardless of its troubles as if buried under
it. His cabbin was neat and clean,
with flooring of split timber, and stools
made out of hewn logs. A few books,
and half a dozen small paintings, a fuzee,
and

and an old sword, being the only ornament
of its walls.

Having supped on the barbecuedracoon,
they took bed upon the planks, each furnished
with a blanket, being the only matress,
or covering with which they were
provided.

A great deal of conversation had passed
in the course of the evening; and considerable
sympathy of mind had taken place
on the part of the Marquis towards the
Captain, considering him in the light of
an emigrant with himself, having been obliged
to abscond, from sans cullotte rage,
and popular servor, which though not of
the same height with that in France, yet
was of the same nature, and different only
in degree.

The invitation was given by the Marquis,
and accepted on the part of the Captain,
and to remain in that retirement for some
weeks, until matters were composed, and
it might be safe for him to take his way again
through the country, and return to
his dwelling. Duncan took care of the
horse, chopped wood, carried water, and
assised the French valet to barbecue racoons,
young bears, squirrels, pheasants,
partridges, and other game, that the
traps

traps, or fuzee and dog, of the Marquis
and his son, accompanied by the Captain,
could procure. Much conversation passed
in the mean time, on the affairs of
France; sometimes sitting on a rock on
the side of the mountain, or under the
shade of an elm tree in the grassy valley; or
walking out to set a trap; at other times,
in an evening in the cabbin, when they had
returned from the labour or amusements
of the day. These conversations were
chiefly in the French language, which the
Captain spoke very well; but in relating
any particulars of that conversation, we
shall give it in English, to save the printer
the trouble of having it translated. And
we shall confine ourselves to a very few
particulars, meaning rather to hasten to
the action of the work, than to delay the
reader in an episode, longer than is absolutely
necessary to let some things be matured,
that are next to take place.CHAP