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Updated: June 19, 2025
At Rand's glance he rose, took up the gun, and slid the pipe into his beaded pouch. The two descended the steps together. "I am going to Lynch's," said Rand. "The stage will soon be in and I want the news. Well?" "He's off," answered Gaudylock. "Chaise to Fredericksburg at six this morning. Pitch dark and no one stirring, and he as chipper, fresh, and pleased as a squirrel with a nut!
"Yes," assented the other sombrely, "it explains. Fair, I want to find out when Adam Gaudylock goes West." "Gaudylock!" cried the other; then after a moment, "Well, I'm not surprised at that, either. I can tell you now when he's going. In two weeks' time." "How do you know?" "Unity sent a message about some work or other to Tom Mocket's sister Vinie.
Were you here in your loved home, we would talk together. Adam Gaudylock is with me. Lately he was in Louisiana, and then with a Mr. Blennerhassett upon the Ohio. General Wilkinson is at New Orleans. The Spaniards are leaving, the French well affected.
"You might manage the rest," said Rand, with good-natured scorn; "but it doesn't do to be afraid of the dark." From the pegs behind the door he took his greatcoat and beaver. "I am going home now," he said. "I have company to supper." "Who, then?" asked Mocket. "Adam Gaudylock? He's in town." Rand laughed. "Who, then? Tom, Tom, you've the manners of the West Indian skippers you consort with!
"She's just Vinie Mocket," answered the boy. "There's a girl who stays sometimes at Mrs. Selden's, on the Three-Notched Road. She's not freckled, and her eyes are big, and she never goes barefoot. I reckon it's silk she wears." "What's her name?" asked the hunter, filling his pipe. "Jacqueline Jacqueline Churchill. She lives at Fontenoy." "Fontenoy's a mighty fine place," remarked Gaudylock.
He smiled, showing very white teeth, and drew forward his bronze trophy. "Supper," he said briefly. The boy nodded. "I heard your gun. I've made a fire yonder beneath a black gum. Adam Gaudylock, I am well-nigh a man!" "So you be, so you be," answered the other; "well-nigh a man." The boy beat the air with a branch of sumach. "I want to be a man!
The one said with perfection the proper things, the other said them to the best of his ability. Young Fairfax Cary, standing by, twisting his riding-whip with angry fingers, curled his lip at the self-made man's awkwardness of phrase. Rand saw the smile, but went on with his speech. Colonel Churchill, who had been talking with Adam Gaudylock, left the hunter and came up to Cary.
That's a brig from the Indies down there, and the captain's our cousin ain't he, Vinie? I know who you are, sir. You're Adam Gaudylock, the great hunter!" "So I am, so I am!" quoth Adam. "Look here, little partridge, at what I've got in my pouch!" The partridge busied herself with the beaded thing, and the two boys talked aside. "I've till dinner time to do what I like in," said Lewis Rand.
Jefferson, and letters going out from every one who has a dollar or an acre or a son or brother in those God-forsaken parts where Adam Gaudylock says they don't speak English and you walk uphill to the river! I like things snug, Mr. Rand, and this country's too big and this mail's too heavy. You have correspondents out there yourself, sir." "Yes," answered Rand, with indifference. "As you say, Mr.
But I let people in and I hear what they talk about. I like it better than the wharf, anyhow. I'll go with you and show you things. Is Mr. Gaudylock coming?" "No," replied Adam. "I'll finish my pipe, and take a look at the ship down there, and then I'll meet a friend at the Indian Queen. Be off with you both! Vinie will stay and talk to me."
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