by Peter Roop
James held out a hand to help her across, but she pushed it away. She would do this herself, as she did everything else.
If only I had never learned to shoot, she thought.
The deck of the other ship was littered with splintered wood, ripped sails, and cut ropes. Everywhere, wounded men moaned. Others lay silent, never to speak again.
She stepped around the clutter and ignored the injured. She made for the wheel. Her heart stopped when she saw Henry. She recognized his hunting shirt now. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? Her anger had blazed too high for reason.
Samantha cradled Henry’s head in her lap. Blood from his wound stained her breeches. “Why did I pull the trigger?” she howled as the tears finally burst forth.
“Because you are a hunter,” came a whisper.
Henry had spoken. The fog in her head cleared.
“You … you … you are alive?” she asked.
“No thanks to you,” Henry said. “I won’t be for long if you don’t stop drowning me with your tears.”
“But I shot you,” she said.
“Yes, you did. Bad shot as you are, you only wounded me,” Henry said. “The ball passed through my shoulder. Still, it hurts worse than a mule kick. Help me stand.”
Samantha gripped Henry under his arms. James helped too. Together they got him on his feet.
“Now get me aboard your ship so my feet don’t have to tread this Tory deck any longer.”
They helped Henry to the Liberty’s deck.
“Let me check your wound,” James said.
“It’s nothing but a flesh wound,” Henry told him.
“Hush, Henry, and do as I say,” James commanded.
“Aye, brother,” he said, impressed with the sudden authority in James’s voice.
James took his clasp knife and cut Henry’s shirt. Blood poured from a hole in his right shoulder. Ripping apart the shirt, James dabbed away the blood. Pressing the rag to the wound, he held it there until the bleeding stopped.
“Fetch some water, Sam,” James ordered. She returned with a flask and held it to Henry’s mouth. He drank deeply.
“Now if you could only heal my head as easily,” Henry said.
Samantha noticed a gash on Henry’s head. “You were wounded twice?” she asked.
“No, only once. I hit my head against the wheel when I fell.”
Samantha ripped a piece off her shirt. Mama would be furious, she thought. She poured water onto the cloth and bathed the wound.
Henry winced at her touch. “Gentle. Sam, you have the hands of a blacksmith.”
More tears began trickling down Samantha’s face. She let them flow.
“Are you hurt?” Henry asked.
“No, you silly oaf. I am crying with happiness. You are alive.”
The day passed in a blur. Samantha stayed with Henry, feeding him soup and forcing him to drink plenty of water. James helped her when he could, but he was busy tending the wounds of other injured men.
Henry smiled at him. “They might make a doctor out of you yet at William and Mary.”
James grinned. “With my share of the prize money, Papa will allow me to go.”
“I will set him straight if he doesn’t,” Henry assured James.
As the Liberty limped to Yorktown with the other ship in tow, Henry told Samantha all that had befallen him since his capture. “I was looking for you, thinking you had sailed into the river and had been caught by the storm. Instead, I was caught by the Otter’s tender. They pressed me into duty on two ships anchored at Newport. I kept trying to escape, so they put me on the Wye to get me away from shore. We were sailing to Maryland to get reinforcements. Only, your Liberty happened along to give me back my liberty.”
“How is that you were at the wheel when we attacked?” she asked.
“The bosun had been downed. I grabbed the ship’s wheel and turned her into your path.”
Matthew laughed. “That you did. Captain Black hadn’t planned on boarding her so quickly.”
James had cleaned and bound Matthew’s leg. Matthew limped slightly, but the wound would heal nicely.
They docked the following day at sunset. Men, women, and children crowded the wharf to cheer as the Liberty’s crew landed. Henry was carried on a litter to the Elkhorn Tavern. After they helped him upstairs to rest, Samantha, James, and Matthew wolfed down steaming bowls of oyster stew.
Samantha had just broken off a piece of bread when her hand stopped. At a nearby table, staring at her, sat Thomas Wormley. His companion had a dirty brown bloodstain on his shirt. It was in the exact spot that Henry had shot the man who had stolen the Fish Hawk.
Samantha’s joy disappeared in an instant.
Chapter 30
Thomas Wormley glared at them.
Samantha poked James. “There’s Wormley and his friend.”
James and Matthew looked in their direction. Wormley curled a lip in a snarl and started to stand up. Behind him, Captain Black clasped a hand on his shoulder. “You’d best sit back down,” he said, pushing Wormley onto the bench.
Wormley tried to shrug off his hand.
“Those lads are mates on my ship,” Captain Black said. “Leave them be.”
“But … their … father …” Wormley stammered.
“Their father is part owner of the Liberty,” Captain Black said. “And from what I just heard, he is part owner of your plantation.”
Samantha leapt to her feet. “What did you say, Captain?”
“It appears Mr. Wormley is on his way to England to join his Tory friends. He sold his plantation.”
“But I never sold any land to William Byrd. I’d die sooner than sell to him.”
“Mr. Byrd has plumb outsmarted you,” Captain Black explained. “You sold the land to Mr. Oxford, who in turn sold the finest 300 acres to Mr. Byrd.”
“How do you know?” Wormley asked.
“Why, from Mr. William Byrd himself.”
Samantha’s mouth fell open as Papa stood. She had not recognized him, sitting with his back turned.
Samantha ran to Papa and hugged him. He pried her loose. “Why, James. It is unmanly to hug your father in public.”
“Papa, don’t you recognize me? I’m Sam … Samantha!”
Papa pulled her close. “I know,” he whispered. “Lord, how I know.”
“But how did you know we would be here?” she asked.
“Captain Black sent word to me with Mr. Hands from the Falcon.”
“Do you know that Henry is back?” she asked.
“Yes, Samantha, I know that too. And how you nearly killed him trying to rescue him. I haven’t seen him yet, as he needs his rest. The morning will be soon enough.”
Their attention was diverted by a scene at the door. “Out you go,” ordered the innkeeper. “I serve no Tories here.”
Thomas Wormley looked as if he was going to say something to the innkeeper but thought the better of it. He had no allies at this inn. He turned his hatred on Papa. “When I inform Lord North of this outrage, you’ll hang for this, Byrd.”
He shut his mouth as a pewter mug flew past his head. Laughter burst from a group across the room. One man held a plate, his arm cocked to throw. Mr. Wormley and his companion slammed the door as the plate hit it.
“Enough, lads,” shouted the innkeeper. “He won’t be back.”
“How did you get the money to buy Mr. Wormley’s land?” Samantha asked as they sat back down.
“Mr. Oxford loaned it me. With my shares and James’s share of the prize money from the Falcon, I almost had enough. But your share will provide the remainder, plus enough left over to send James to William and Mary.”
“My share?”
Captain Black erupted into laughter behind her. “Sam. I mean Samantha. My conscience would not rest if you did not receive your share of the prize. After all, you crewed as well as any lad and helped capture the enemy.”
Samantha had so many questions to ask to Papa. She felt like a dam ho
lding back a spring flood and ready to burst. “How is Mama? Did she read my note? How did she feel about James and me being gone? Was she worried? Will she forgive us?”
Papa put a finger to her mouth. “Come, Samantha,” he said. “Young ladies are not allowed in taverns.”
“But, Papa,” she began. “I’m not …” She hesitated. “I mean …” She was so confused. She had played the boy. But after what she saw of killing, did she still wish to?
If only there was no war.
If only her life had stayed the way it was, so she could roam the woods and streams.
If only.
The 13 Original Colonies
Proclamation of the Earl of Dunmore
By his Excellency the Right Honorable JOHN Earl of DUNMORE, His MAJESTY’s Lieutenant and Governor General of the Colony and Dominion of VIRGINIA, and Vice Admiral of the same.
A PROCLAMATION.
AS I have ever entertained Hopes that an Accommodation might have taken Place between GREAT-BRITAIN and this colony, without being compelled by my Duty to this most disagreeable but now absolutely necessary Step, rendered so by a Body of armed Men unlawfully assembled, bring on His MAJESTY’s Tenders, and the formation of an Army, and that Army now on their March to attack His MAJESTY’s troops and destroy the well disposed Subjects of this Colony. To defeat such unreasonable Purposes, and that all such Traitors, and their Abetters, may be brought to Justice, and that the Peace, and good Order of this Colony may be again restored, which the ordinary Course of the Civil Law is unable to effect; I have thought fit to issue this my Proclamation, hereby declaring, that until the aforesaid good Purposes can be obtained, I do in Virtue of the Power and Authority to ME given, by His MAJESTY, determine to execute Martial Law, and cause the same to be executed throughout this Colony: and to the end that Peace and good Order may the sooner be effected, I do require every Person capable of bearing Arms, to resort to His MAJESTY’s STANDARD, or be looked upon as Traitors to His MAJESTY’s Crown and Government, and thereby become liable to the Penalty the Law inflicts upon such Offences; such as forfeiture of Life, confiscation of lands, &cc. &cc. And I do hereby further declare all indentured Servants, Negroes, or others, (appertaining to Rebels,) free that are able and willing to bear Arms, they joining His MAJESTY’s Troops as soon as may be, for the more speedily reducing this Colony to a proper Sense of their Duty, to His MAJESTY’s Crown and Dignity. I do further order, and require, all his MAJESTY’s Leige Subjects, to retain their Quitrents, or any other Taxes due or that may become due, in their own Custody, till such Time as Peace may be again restored to this at present most unhappy Country, or demanded of them for their former salutary Purposes, by Officers properly authorised to receive the same.
GIVEN under my Hand on board the Ship WILLIAM, off NORFOLK, the 7th Day of NOVEMBER, in the SIXTEENTH Year of His MAJESTY’s Reign.
DUNMORE.
(GOD save the KING.)
About the Authors
Peter and Connie Roop are award-winning authors and educators who have published over one hundred children’s books, including the Reading Rainbow feature selection Keep the Lights Burning, Abbie. They have written biographies, historical fiction, general fiction, and science books. In 2013 the Wisconsin Library Association recognized the Roops as Notable Wisconsin Authors for their body of work, and Peter Roop has been named a Wisconsin State Teacher of the Year.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2000 by Peter and Connie Roop
Cover design by Mauricio Díaz
ISBN: 978-1-5040-1010-8
This edition published in 2015 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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