Читать книгу Wild Nat, the Trooper; or, The Cedar Swamp Brigade онлайн

12 страница из 36

The old squire then entered the house again, to make Nat’s requisition known to the son of his neighbor. Timothy Turner had, in the mean time, approached to within hearing distance, and now stood ready to note every word that was uttered. He scented gold and revenge in the issue of that interview.

John Vale soon made his appearance. The two young men shook each other cordially by the hand. The conversation which ensued it is unnecessary to detail. Every word of it was overheard by the spy. When, at length, John expressed his determination of joining the company which his friend was raising, Turner rubbed his hands in high glee, as he muttered to himself:

“You shall find out, Mr. John Vale, and you, Mr. Nathaniel Ernshaw, that Timothy Turner is not the proper man to slight. This intelligence is worth ten golden guineas to me, and the revenge besides.”

“As my mother approves of it, I’m with you, Nat. When and where do we meet? Let me know the rendezvous, and trust me but I’ll be there.”

“There was some talk,” replied Nat, “of meeting in the swamp, but that is too far for the most of us. So that is out of the question; but you know Clingman’s mills and the pine woods that run back from the creek. If you enter the woods by the path immediately opposite the mill, you will find a small clearing. That is the spot. Be on hand by ten o’clock to-morrow night, and I promise you that your eyes will be gladdened by the sight of thirty young men, all good, stout patriots—ready, if need be, to die for their country.”