Lizzie Santon, the daughter of John Santon, a patriot who lived about
halfway between the Tory and the patriot settlements, was out searching
for their cow, that had wandered away, and the girl, humming a song,
made her way through the timber, looking about her keenly and
searchingly.
It was now growing dusk, and the girl hastened her footsteps, for she
was a mile from home and still had seen no signs of the sought for
animal.
Suddenly she saw a form moving in the woods at a distance of perhaps one
hundred yards, and she uttered an exclamation of satisfaction and
hastened in that direction.
But when she was within perhaps twenty yards of the approaching object,
she saw that it was a human being, but with the upper portion of the
body covered with feathers.
“What can that mean?” the girl murmured, stopping and staring in wonder,
amazement and horror. “Why, that is terrible! Who would dare treat a
human being in that barbarous fashion?”
She stood there a few moments, and then noticing that the tarred and
feathered man was walking in a zigzag fashion, as if unable to see, she
advanced till close to the person, and then she said:
“Who are you? And who did this?”
It was the teacher, of course, and at the sound of the voice he came to
a stop and exclaimed, joyously: “Thank goodness I have found somebody. I
am Herbert Miller, and some Tories did this, because they believed me to
be a patriot.”
“What villains!” exclaimed the girl. “This is terrible, Mr. Miller.”
“Yes, so it is. Is that you, Miss Santon? It sounds like your voice.”
“Yes. Why, can’t you see me?”
“No, they got a lot of the tar in my eyes, and they have swollen shut. I
have just been wandering in the woods, feeling my way. Would it be
asking too much for you to conduct me to the home of a patriot, where I
can get rid of the tar and feathers?”
“Indeed, I shall be only too glad to help you, Mr. Miller. I will guide
you to my home, and father will help you get rid of your coat of tar and
feathers and will give you some of his clothes to put on. Give me your
hand.”
She took hold of Miller’s hand, and they made their way through the
timber at a moderate pace, the young man telling the story of the affair
in detail as they went.
The girl was profuse in her denunciations of the ruffians who had
perpetrated the outrage, and said that they ought to be punished. But as
the majority of the people in that vicinity were Tories, it was not
likely that the ruffians would be bothered.
When they arrived at Lizzie’s home, Mr. Santon took Miller in hand, and
after an hour or so of hard work, got much of the tar and feathers
washed off. The young man had been bathing his eyes at the same time,
and had gotten them so that he could open them part way and could see,
so he now donned shirt, and coat, given him by the patriot settler, and
felt much better.
“I’ll be all right now,” he said. “Thanks to you and Lizzie, Mr.
Santon.”
“That’s all right. You’re welcome, Mr. Miller. I’ve kind of expected
something of this kind, for I knew you were in sympathy with the patriot
Cause, and I have heard the Tories say that they didn’t like the idea of
having a rebel to teach their children. You kind of took the side of the
patriot children, in their squabbles with the Tory children at school,
you know, and the Tories didn’t like that.”
“Yes, that is true. Well, I suppose that there would be no use for me to
go back to the settlement.”
“I wouldn’t risk it, if I were you. They might take it into their heads
to kill you, next time.”
“I think that a good many of the Tories would not approve of what Sprowl
and his gang did, but they are in the minority, and I suppose the
majority of the families will be glad they did it, and likely, as you
say, the ruffians would do worse next time.”
“I think it likely.”
“I fear that I may get you into trouble, Mr. Santon, by staying here at
your home,” the young man said.
“I don’t think so,” slowly and thoughtfully. “And likely they don’t know
you are here.”
“That is probable. I wandered quite a ways before I came up with your
daughter. I don’t suppose any of the ruffians followed.”
“No, likely not. You’re safe here, and I don’t think they will bother me
for having you here.”
“I hope not. I think that perhaps it will be well for me to go over to
the patriot settlement, to-morrow, however.”
“We’ll see about it, Mr. Miller.”
Supper was ready, presently, and the teacher ate at the table with the
family, and repeated his story for the benefit of the other members,
there being several children besides Lizzie. Mr. and Mrs. Santon looked
very sober and thoughtful, for they lived only about a mile and a half
from the Tory settlement, and if the Tories got angry at them, they
might make it very disagreeable for them.
After supper the teacher and the members of the Santon family sat in the
big sitting-room and talked a while, and then the young man was
conducted to an upstairs room by Mr. Santon, and he began making
preparations to go to bed.
He had only begun, however, when he heard footsteps on the gravel walk
in the yard, and then followed a loud knocking on the door. Following
this came in the loud, hoarse voice of Hank Sprowl:
“Open ther door, John Santon, or we’ll kick it down. We know thet ye’re
harborin’ that rebel skule-teacher that we tarred and feathered this
evenin’, and ye’ve got ter give him up. Ef ye don’t, et’ll be the worse
for ye. Open the door!”
With the remembrance still fresh in his mind of the treatment accorded
him by the same gang that was now likely at the door, Herbert Miller may
be excused for feeling somewhat horror-stricken when he heard the
demands given utterance to by the leader of the Tory gang.
He remembered what Mr. Santon had said, and wondered if they had come to
kill him, this time.