She turned the buttons, and, with a bit of trembling at her
heart, such as she had not felt all day, she ventured up the
stairs, bearing the steaming peace-offering before her.
Uncle John was writhing under the sharp thorns and twinges of his
old enemy, and in no frame of mind to receive any overtures in
the shape of catnip tea; nevertheless, he was watching, as well
as he was able, the motions of the enemy. As she drew near he
cried out:
"Look out this window, and see! Much GOOD all your scheming will
do YOU!"
She obeyed his command to look, and the sight she then saw caused
her to let fall the cup of catnip tea and rush down the stairs,
wringing her hands as she went and crying out:
"Oh, dear! what shall I do? The house will burn and the box up
garret. Everything's lost!"
Major Pitcairn, at that moment, was on the green in front of her
door, giving orders.
Forgetting the dignified part she intended to play, forgetting
everything but the supreme danger that was hovering in mid-air
over her home--the old house wherein she had been born, and the
only home she had ever known--she rushed out upon the green, amid
the troops, and surrounded by cavalry, and made her way to Major
Pitcairn.
"The town-house is on fire!" she cried, laying her hand upon the
commander's arm.
He turned and looked at her. Major Pitcairn had recently learned
that the task he had been set to do in the provincial towns that
day was not an easy one; that, when hard pressed and trodden
down, the despised rustics, in home-spun dress, could sting even
English soldiers; and thus it happened that, when he felt the
touch of Mother Moulton's plump little old fingers on his
military sleeve, he was not in the pleasant humor that he had
been, when the same hand had ministered to his hunger in the
early morning.
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