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Marryat, Frederick, 1792-1848

"Monsieur Violet"


When the first surprise was over, pursuit of the assassin was resolved
upon, and then it was discovered that, in his revenge, the father had
not lost sight of prudence. All the horses were loose; the stable and
the court-house, as well as the bar and spirit-store of the tavern, were
in flames. While the Bostonians endeavoured to steal what they could,
and the landlord was beating his negroes, the only parties upon whom he
could vent his fury, our companions succeeded in recovering their
horses, and at break of day, without any loss but the gold watch of the
doctor, which had probably been stolen from him during his sleep, we
started for the last day's journey which we had to make in Texas.
As we rode away, nothing remained of Texan Boston except three patches
of white ashes, and a few half-burnt logs, nor do I know if that
important city has ever been rebuilt.


CHAPTER XXXIII.

We were now about twenty miles from the Red River, and yet this short
distance proved to be the most difficult travelling we had experienced
for a long while. We had to cross swamps, lagoons, and canebrakes, in
which our horses were bogged continually; so that at noon, and after a
ride of six hours, we had only gained twelve miles. We halted upon a dry
knoll, and there, for the first time since the morning, we entered into
conversation; for, till then, we had been too busy scrutinizing the
ground before our horses' feet.


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