University of Virginia Library

18. CHAPTER XVIII.

Meanwhile, the party of footmen, consisting of
some dozen or more of the volunteers, and such
revellers as were brave enough for the exploit,—
followed, or rather led by the valiant Harriet, who
displayed the energy of a Penthesilea, and by
Captain Loring, who forgot his lameness in the
ardour of the moment,—succeeded in gaining the
highway just in time to catch the most favourable
view of the fugitive, as he thundered up the hill
upon which they were themselves rushing. Indeed,
they came upon him so suddenly, that when his
ears, which as well as his eyes, seemed to be fully
occupied in tracing the signs of pursuit, were surprised
by the sudden shout they set up, the jerk
which he instinctively made at the reins, brought
his steed (a goodly roan charger, which was afterwards
discovered to be the property of the painter)
upon his hams, and had well nigh tumbled him in
the dust. At that moment, the volunteers, in an
ecstasy of excitement, raised their muskets, and
fired together upon horse and man; so that, had
there been any better ammunition in the deadly
tubes than blank-cartridges, both must have been
blown to atoms.

The appearance of the trader, as he rose up in

his saddle, and looked upon the throng around
him, apparently as much astonished at his escape
from death as he was infuriated by such a display
of mortal opposition, was wild and terrific; the
broad red hat had fallen back from his forehead,
disclosing his whole countenance; the eye with
which he glared upon his opposers, had a certain
ghastliness mingled with its fury, that was infinitely
appalling; the retracted lips, exposing the set
teeth, seemed widened into a grin that might have
become the visage of a nether imp; and his hand,
with which he had snatched up, and now brandished,
a huge horse-pistol, could not have appeared
more dreadful, had it been dripping with
fresh blood. When it is remembered, that the
whole throng were now impressed with the conviction,
(a conviction which their reason had no
time to question,) that, in this man, they beheld
the most renowned and dreaded of the Hawks of
Hawk-Hollow, and perceived that he had the life
of at least one individual in his power, it is not to
be wondered at that their courage gave way, so
soon as they perceived him unharmed by the
volley. In truth, they began to shout and fly; and
even the volunteers waited no longer than to see
the pistol aimed towards them, before they took to
their heels as hastily as the others. It was in vain
that Miss Falconer cried out, “Now is the time,
gentlemen! seize him!” The only individual who
thought fit to obey the mandate, was Captain Loring,
who, having just hobbled up to the road,
sprang from a bank, and before the rover had
fired, or even raised up his steed, snatched vigorously
at the bridle, roaring out,

“I've nabbed you, adzooks, you rascal!—Surrender!”

To this bold summons the demi-barbarian answered
by turning his weapon from the flying

assailants, and clapping it instantly to the Captain's
ear; when a shriek from Catherine startled, or
conjured, him out of his bloody intention; and instead
of shooting the veteran dead on the spot, he
struck him a blow with the heavy barrel, that
brought him to the earth. He then uttered a yell
like the whoop of an Indian; and the roan horse,
leaping over the Captain's body, bounded beyond
the crest of the hill, and was in an instant concealed
from view.

The next moment, and almost before the terrified
rustics had plucked the unlucky veteran from
the road, the thunder of hoofs again shook the hill,
and the captain of cavalry, looking almost as grim
and terrific as the fugitive, was seen to shoot by,
pronouncing his magical war-word, “Go it, Skyscraper!”
Then, at his heels, came Herman, the
painter, who, without seeming very sensible of the
presence of any earthly spectators, gave forth, as
he passed, a bold and stirring hurrah, that almost
made Miss Falconer reject as improbable certain
wild suspicions that had already crept into her
brain. Then came the lieutenants and their long
train of volunteer followers, bestowing as little
notice upon the individuals on the road-side as the
others had done; and these defeated worthies
were left to themselves, busied in restoring the
Captain to his senses,—a desideratum, that, to the
delight of all, was soon effected; for indeed the
Captain's cocked hat had done him the service his
gray hairs had not; and it was soon found, that,
except his being thrown into a violent passion, he
was none the worse for his misfortune.

“I'll have the villain's blood!” he cried, starting
up in a fury, which he expended upon all around
him without much discrimination. “What are you
blubbering about, Kate, you jade? Adzooks, but
I'll have the blood of the rascal! Hark ye, Mr.

Doctor Merribody, and you Mr. Orator Jingleum,
and the rest of you, and especially you, you confounded
cowardly volunteers! what did you mean
by not rushing in upon the dog, when I had him,
you puppies? Adzooks, you white-feathered henbantams,
I had sooner trust to a regiment of suttler's
wives, in a bayonet-charge, than to any such
poltroonery rascals, even in the small matter of
taking a tory by the ears. Adzooks, you gallimaufry
what-d'ye-call-'ems, is this the way you
keep the Fourth of July?”

While the veteran thus poured forth his indignant
rebukes, which he continued until his daughter
succeeded in pacifying him, the captain of
cavalry, followed at but a little distance by Herman,
still pursued the chase with untiring ardour,
now catching view of the fugitive as he flashed
over the brow of a hill, but oftener losing sight of
him altogether, so winding and broken was the
road, and so deeply embowered by forest-trees.
Caliver marvelled greatly at the excellence of the
roan steed bestridden by his quarry, upon whom,
after riding several miles, he did not seem to have
gained an inch; but, in truth, the horse was of approved
speed and bottom, the rider was himself a
master of the art of horsemanship, and was besides,
at least, a stone and a half lighter than his
pursuer. He continued, however, to follow, cheering
himself with the reflection, that, by and by, the
appearance of the infantry, already posted on the
road, must bring the fugitive to a stand. “And
then,” quoth he to himself, with a grim chuckle,
“he must e'en turn about; and then, by the eternal
Jupiter, I will shave off the top of his poll with
my sabre, or shoot him through the gizzard with
my pistol, according to circumstances. Go it,
Sky-scraper; and don't let it be said of you, you

were ever beaten, in a fair race, by a rascally
refugee!”

As for the painter, he possessed but little of the
unflagging spirit of his leader; and seeing there
was small prospect of gaining on the trader, he
soon became tired of pursuing, and began to devise
in what manner he might, without loss of
honour, discontinue the pursuit. First, then, having
reached a wild hollow, where a little runlet crossed
the road, and was immediately lost amid a labyrinth
of great rocks, trees, and brambles, he gradually
slackened his pace, until the cavalry officer
vanished among the windings of the road. As
soon as he had lost sight of him, he came to a full
halt, greatly to the dissatisfaction of his borrowed
steed, whose heart was already warmed for battle.
Here the painter listened a moment, as if to gather
some tokens of the approach of others. A few
straggling shouts came to his ear from a vast distance
behind. He hesitated an instant; the cries
of pursuit came nearer. He then dismounted, reversed
the saddle on the horse's body, gave him a
lash and a shout, and away went the liberated
animal, leaving his rider standing in the middle of
the highway. Here, however, he did not long
remain. Another chorus of shouts, coming still
nearer, reverberated through the woodland; and
without waiting for a fourth, the young artist instantly
deserted the road, and plunged into the
wildest and deepest part of the hollow.

And now appeared the two lieutenants, rushing
vociferously on, with some two or three young
men who were better mounted than others, close
at their heels. Then, strange to be said, came the
zealous Broadbrim, the spirit of whose lank steed
seemed to grow with his exertions, and who had
left the rest far behind. It was the destiny of this

worthy personage, like the painter, here to end the
labours of the day; but with this important difference,
that, whereas the painter had relinquished
the pursuit, because it was his will to do so,
the quaker, on the other hand, terminated his
career, because it was the will of his horse he
should do so. In other words, this highly republican
animal, having debated in his body (for,
being a horse, he had no mind,) the absurdity of
the burthen being all on one side, and reflecting,
that, as he himself could not ride, there was no
reason why he should be ridden, now began to
broach his rebellious principles in the most expressive
language he could make use of,—that is, in
sundry curvets and escapades; the result of which
was, somewhat to the astonishment of honest
Broadbrim, that the magnanimous insurgent suddenly
broke his base bonds, and fled away, whinnying
with the delight of freedom, while his oppressor,
after admiring the print his back had
made in a spot by no means dusty, now sat down
pensively on the road-side, and began to ponder
his misfortunes.

“`The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced
loon!”' were the first words he uttered; and he uttered
them with much sincerity of indignation.
“Had the gallows been close by, thou ungrateful
beast, I believe thou wouldst have been just as
malicious. Wilt thou never be done thy tricks,
White Surrey? Out upon thee, thou ass of a
horse! I have helped thee out of all manner of
difficulties, and, in return, thou never missest an
opportunity of flinging me into one. `A horse, a
horse, my kingdom for a horse!' Now am I in a
quandary, like a fish in a net.—And suppose some
one of these malapert blue-jackets should look into
my saddle-bags, and pull out, one after another,
first Tom Hunting-shirt, then long-tailed Nehemiah,

then Will Tapes, the pedler, and then—and
then, and then?—Hillo, you vagabond Hawk! you
skulking tories, that have fern-seed, and walk invisible!
where are ye? Now am I like a rat between
six cats.—Come to me, and ye shall hear
the words of grace, the comfortable and fructifying
words, ye men of Belial, that hide your faces
in woods and in desert places!—Hearken to me,
friend Gilbert, whom men call the Hawk of the
Hollow: does thee not perceive I am in great
straits, and that I am thy friend in the spirit, and
will hold thine enemies very fast and hard, and
will peradventure strike one of them under the fifth
rib, so that he die?—Out, you inhuman rascal!
you captain Gilbert! come to my assistance, or,—
`paucas palubras,'—I shall be hanged.”

As the mysterious quaker proceeded in his
musings, which he occasionally vented aloud, his
looks, fixed mournfully on the ground, fell by chance
upon a shrub-leaf close to the earth, the under
surface of which was turned up, looking white and
glistening among the green fronds. This he, at
first, regarded with great indifference; but having
observed it a second time, a thought entered his
brain, which caused him to rise and advance towards
it, to examine whether it had been deranged
by the winds, by the foot of a beast, or by some
more important agency. Its foot-stalk was broken;
and divers decaying leaves beneath it were crushed
into the ground. These appearances induced
him to look about him with much care; and the
search terminated in the discovery of several foot-marks
in the damp soil, evidently impressed by a
pair of moccasined feet, and that very recently.
This discovery infused singular animation into his
spirit, which was quickened by a sudden shout
from the road behind. He sprang behind a bush,
until the comer, one of his late sentinels, dashed

by; then resuming the search, he found himself
following a human trail, that led him into such a
labyrinth of bog and bramble, as might have made
him repent his presumption, had he possessed the
grace to repent any thing. He persisted however
with much resolution, and still made his way by
the tracks, until the sudden appearance of a huge
rattlesnake, bruiting under his nose, startled him
out of his propriety and the path together. In a
word, he soon proved himself to be no woodman;
and, in the course of five or ten minutes' walk, was
so completely lost and mazed among the depths of
a wild swamp, as to have lost even the power of
extricating himself.

“ `Ay, now,' ” said he, with a groan, “ `I am in
Arden; the more fool I; when I was at home, I
was in a better place; but travellers must be content.'
”

Then looking about him disconsolately, he perceived,
through the trees, a little eminence, where
he could rest himself, and whence, he thought, he
might discover some path out of the wilderness.
He proceeded towards it forthwith. It was a
swell of land, on the summit very rocky, covered
with beech and maple trees, and with an undergrowth
of spice-wood and its fragrant sister, the
sassafras. Among these he thought he heard the
babbling of a little water-course; and this sound
he hailed with satisfaction, for he was already tormented
with thirst. As he passed up the hill, he
stepped into a little nook, not above a dozen paces
in circuit, enclosed by rocks and bushes, and so
overshadowed by beeches as to form a thick-roofed
grotto, on the floor of which sparkled a
meager rill, flowing from a spring at the bottom
of a rock.

An abrupt turn round a mass of protruding
stone brought the wandering man of peace unexpectedly

upon this scene; but before he had time
to survey it, he was suddenly seized upon by an
arm of iron, and hurled upon the ground. The
next moment, a strong hand was at his throat, a
heavy knee on his chest, and a long, bright knife
gleamed like a flash of lightning before his eyes.