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He sent a prisoner, Samuel Phillips, over to the frontier settlements, to Colonel Isaac Shelby, with the insolent message that, if the "backwater" men did not quit resisting the royal arms, he would march his army over the mountains, and would straightway lay waste their homes with fire and sword, and hang their leaders. He little knew what kind of men he had stirred to wrath.
The arrival of the mountain men put new life into the dispirited whigs. On July 30th a mixed force, under Shelby and two or three local militia colonels, captured Thickett's fort, with ninety tories, near the Pacolet.
The dumpy little figure, swelling like a pouter pigeon's, was so irresistibly ludicrous that Shelby forgot his troubles and threw back his head in a gust of laughter. "Think it's funny, I s'pose." Her face was vinegar. "'Tain't to be expected a boy brung up in a distillery 'ud know better." Shelby sobered. "Confine yourself to facts, please," he interposed.
As soon as she could, she sold some land, and George Shelby, taking the money with him, went off to try to find Uncle Tom and buy him back again. But by the time George Shelby, came to the place where Mr. St. Clare used to live, Uncle Tom had been sold to Legree, and no one knew where he had gone.
It was at this period that Major Ferguson of the British army, in his progress to the mountains of North Carolina, made several attempts to surprise Col. Shelby, but in every instance, he was baffled through his vigilance and activity. On the first of August, 1780, the advance of the British force came up and attacked Shelby at Cedar Springs.
Once Shelby laid a restraining hand upon her arm, but she laughed the more. When the curtain fell on the first act and the lights went up, she was laughing still. She wondered why New Yorkers stared so. Perhaps they, like Shelby, who had oddly shrunk into the shadows of the box, thought she resembled the plump beauty for whom cigars were named.
As the happy cavalcade set off, waving merry farewells to the older people gathered upon the piazza, Tzaritza bounding on ahead, their route led them past the paddock where Shelby and old Jess, with several others connected with the estate, stood watching them.
"Has he accepted?" The words were out before he could take Shelby's hand. "Not yet." "Thank heaven. Tell me what you've done." Shelby recapitulated. "That's right," approved his senior. "There's nothing more to be done with Chuck O'Rourke's bandits just now. Graves is the man to consider. Is he still mum?" "As a cigar sign. How does the Boss take it?" "Urbanely, as always.
A man who would not meet the toast of Broadway and Fifth Avenue, for that matter if he could, was, to Stanton and the rest of us, inconceivable. It was at the close of that winter that Shelby left us. Some there were who said he was suffering from a broken heart.
For this is Judge Ostrander's place, and any one who knows Shelby or the gossip of its suburbs, knows that this house of his has not opened its doors to any outsider, man or woman, for over a dozen years; nor have his gates in saying which, I include the great one in front been seen in all that time to gape at any one's instance or to stand unclosed to public intrusion, no, not for a moment.
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