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.He shut his eyes a moment.Then hereopened them, managing at last the kind of totallycavalier smile that could light his face.He reachedfor the door."Goodbye, sir.""You do understand what I intend, Judson?""Of course."And if thy right hand offendthee, cut it off and cast it from thee, for it isprofitable for thee-" his"Stop.""that one of thy members should perish-" his"Stop, goddamn you!"But Judson kept on, loudly: was "com and not thatthy whole body should be cast into hell." All right,I'll do the service in hell in your place.For themoment! That way, you can keep fancying yourself spotlessand sanctified.Until you arrive to join me."He walked out, rolling the door shut with a bang.Rainrattled on the windows as he hurried through theconservatory.Suddenly he thought he heard amuffled outcry from the office.A cry of grief.His heart leaped-He hesitated.Thought about going back-But he didn't.Page 75ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlIt was much too late.viiiHalf an hour later, Judson Fletcher leftSermon Hill.His cloak belling behind him, histricorn cocked low over his forehead to keep off theworst of the rain, he galloped down to the river andturned southeast in the direction of the ferry that wouldtake him across to the road leading north.At afront window of the great house, one curtain was heldaside by an unseen hand until Judson's flyingcloak vanished in the December mist.Then thecurtain was slowly put back in place.The Guns ofWinterA BITTER GALE off the Atlantic flungsleet through the November twilight.Philipturned in at the front gate of the Vassall houseon Brattle Street, Cambridge.He waschilled clear through, and nervous.Only an hour before,one of his occasional visits with his wife and son hadbeen concluded in unexpected fashion.Philip had arrived in Watertown to find Annefeeding their stocky infant at her breast.Hercolor was good, her strength increasing daily.Apartfrom a continuing concern about the likelihood offull-scale war, what troubled Anne Kent at themoment was her father's poor health.The lawyer had lain abed for more than three weeks.Wracked by chills and constant coughing, he lackedappetite and was steadily losing weight.During thehour Philip spent with his family, the raspy coughfrom Ware's bedroom was a worrisome counterpointto conversation.On his way back to his regiment, Philipstopped at the tiny shop near the Charles River wherehis former employer, Ben Edes, had reassembled hispress after smuggling the pieces out of Boston in arowboat.With a few fonts of type, Edes wasstraggling to publish his patriot newspaper, theGazette,on a more or less regular basis.But when Philip arrived, he found Edes settingup thepress to print paper currency; specialcurrency authorized by the Massachusettsprovincial legislature.There had already been talk in Philip's regiment thatsuch money might be used to pay the soldiers.Thepossibility caused grumbling and resentment.Money made legal only by the legislative actof a colony in rebellion might not be worth much.Certainly it wouldn't be as readilyspendable as the sterling pound.The new currency was beingprinted in desperation, to purchase needed suppliesand materiel for the army.Edes, who looked tired,emphasized the point by showing Philip severalplates for various denominations.When Edes turnedthe plates over, Philip recognized Revereengravings, prints of which had been sold at the oldshop in Dassett Alley.Revere had worked onePage 76ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlnew design on the back of his popular depictionof the Boston Massacre."Even new copper for etching the worthless stuff can'tbe had," Edes complained, just as the front doorbanged open."Are you Philip Kent of the Twenty-ninthMassachusetts?"Philip whirled to confront the gruff-voicedarrival: an officer of the Mar8,4 Twenty-first.The unit's trimly outfitted men had been chosenas personal guards for the commanding general'sheadquarters."I'm Kent, yes, sir.""Christ, you roam around a lot.First I rodeto your regiment, then your wife's rooms-come alongsmartly, if you please.I've a horse for yououtside.""Come along where?" Philip asked."I'm dueback in camp-wasThe ruddy-cheeked man seemed skeptical of his ownreply:"No, you're to come with me.To General Washington."Even Ben Edes looked flabbergasted.During theuncomfortable ride to Cambridge, Philip'suneasiness increased.The officer said he had noinformation about the reason forofthe summons.Presently they arrived at the large, imposingresidence on what was coming to be called Tory Row.Like many of his neighbors, Mr.Vassall, ownerof the property taken over by Washington, had fledto sanctuary with the British in Boston.A fewother loyalists who hadn't as yet departed hadpainted black rings around their chimneys, to signify*cctinuingallegiance to the king.As he tethered his horse, Philip decided that hisinvolvement in the brawl in the Virginia encampmenthad somehow caught up with him, and he was due forpunishment.He slipped and slid up the sleet-covered walk.Three officers emerged from the brightly lighted house,arguing.Philip stepped aside,remembering to offer a salute.The officersreturned it in perfunctory fashion, givinghimover-the-shoulder stares as they hurried on to theirhorses.Their expressions showed their astonishment atthe sight of a common soldier of the line approachingheadquarters; a soaked, bedraggled soldier at that.More apprehensive than ever, Philip moved on.Near the front of the house, wind tore at aswaying pole.At the top, a flag cracked andfluttered.A flag Philip hadn't seen before.Britain's Union Jack in the upper leftcorner was familiar, but not the red and whitehorizontal stripes [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]