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Updated: May 13, 2025
And, Singleton, just have your men take these fine fellows up behind" with a gesture towards the riflemen. "And see that they lack for nothing in quarters!" Grinning sheepishly, the riflemen climbed up behind the troopers assigned them; the troop cantered off, and Sir George pointed to Ruyven's horse, indicating that it was for me when I was rested.
Utterly unable to speak, I sat down on a log, holding Sir George's gloved hand, my arm on Ruyven's laced shoulder. An immense fatigue came over me; I had not before realized the pace we had kept up for these two months nor the strain I had been under. "Singleton!" called out Sir George, "take the men to the barracks; take my horse, too I'll walk back.
"Children!" shouted Ruyven. "I bet you ten shillings he can outcast you yet!" "Done!" she flashed, then, all in a breath, smiled adorably and shook her head. "No, I'll not bet. He could win if he chose. We understand each other, my cousin Ormond and I," and gave my hands a little friendly shake with both of hers, then dropped them to still Ruyven's clamor for a wager.
"You and I have much to consider, much to discuss in these uncertain days," she said, confidently. "And we cannot babble matters of import to these children " "I'm seventeen!" howled Ruyven, through the key-hole. "Dorothy's not eighteen till next month, the little fool " "Don't mind him," said Dorothy, raising her voice for Ruyven's benefit.
Oh, I amuse them; they dress me in Ruyven's clothes and have me to wine lacking a tenor voice for their songs and at first, long ago, their wine made me stupid, and they found rare sport in baiting me; but now they tumble, one by one, ere the wine's fire touches my face, and father swears there is no man in County Tryon can keep our company o' nights and show a steady pair of legs like mine to bear him bedwards."
"Are you ready to mount Ruyven's nag and come home to a good bed and a glass of something neat?" "Let Ruyven ride," I said; "I need the walk, Sir George." "Need the walk!" he exclaimed. "Have you not had walks enough? and your moccasins and buckskins in rags!"
"Is it fair for Dorothy to cast her own hatchet?" asked Harry. "Give me Ruyven's," she said, half vexed. Aught that touched her sense of fairness sent a quick flame of anger to her cheeks which I admired. "Keep your own hatchet, cousin," I said; "you may have need of it." "Give me Ruyven's hatchet," she repeated, with a stamp of her foot which Ruyven hastened to respect.
"All Ormond, all Ormond, George, like that vixen o' mine, Dorothy. Hey! It's not too often that good blood throws back; the mongrel shows oftenest; but that big chit of a lass is no Varick; she's Ormond to the bones of her. Ruyven's a red-head; there's red in the rest o' them, and the slow Dutch blood.
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