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Updated: May 19, 2025
Breakfast was just over when a servant told Bertha that a gentleman who said his name was George Lechmere wished to speak to her. She went out to him in the hall. "Well, George," she said, holding out her hand to him frankly, for he was a great favourite of hers; "I suppose you have brought me up a message from Major Mallett?" "No, Miss Greendale, the Major does not know that I have come to you.
There was nothing to do all day, but to sit on deck and watch the brigantine. Most of the blacks had been landed, and only three or four sailors remained on watch on deck. Frank and George Lechmere, in their broad straw hats, sat and smoked in the deck chairs; the former's eyes wandering over the mountains as if in search of something that might point out Bertha's hiding place.
"And you have quite made up your mind to stay with me, Lechmere?" "Quite, sir. Short of your turning me out, there is nothing that would get me away from you. No one could be happier than I have been, ever since I rejoined after that wound. It has not been like master and servant, sir.
From what afterward took place, the inference is that Christophers shrank from assuming alone so great a responsibility as now devolved upon him, and persuaded his brethren to share it with him; for the superior court proceeded to issue letters of administration to Lechmere, and took his bond, drawn to themselves personally, for the faithful performance of his trust.
"Don't you think, Major," George Lechmere said after a long pause, "that it would be a good thing to have the gig every night at some point agreed on, such as the spot where we land? You see, sir, there is no saying what may happen. We may have to make a running fight of it, and it would be very handy to have the boat to fall back upon." "Yes, I think that a good idea, George.
Then came a hail from the brigantine in French: "Keep off or we will sink you!" No reply was made. They were but two hundred yards away when there were two bright flashes from the stern of the brigantine, and a shower of bullets splashed round the boats. There were two or three cries of pain, and George Lechmere felt Frank give a sudden start. "Are you hit, sir?"
Here he packed a portmanteau with Indian suits and underclothing, took his pistol and rifle cases, drove to a gunmaker's in the Strand for a stock of ammunition, called at his bank and cashed a cheque for two thousand pounds, and then drove to Waterloo. Hawkins and George Lechmere were on the landing stage at Cowes. "How are things going on, Hawkins?" Frank asked, as he came across the gangway.
The bill was supported by the duke of Argyle, the earl of Seafield, and Lord Lechmere, which last was answered by earl Cowper.
"Anne Street is devilish seedy, but that's the quarter." "Why, confound it, man!" said the other; "there's not a word of that here." "Read it out," said Power. "Proclaim aloud my victory." Thus urged, Lechmere read: Please pay to my credit, and soon, mark ye! the two ponies lost this evening.
From Alexander W. Weddell, Virginia Historical Portraiture From the painting by Michiel Jansz van Miereveldt From the Original Portrait by an Unknown Artist, now in the possession of Sir Edmund Arthur Lechmere, Bart, Bramham Gardens, London, England From Alexander W. Weddell, Virginia Historical Portraiture
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