On
the honour of a gentleman, I will read all of it!"
"Poom!" said he, "English fire-eater! corn-cracker! Show me the
'good heart' sentence, for I'd see how it is written--how GABORD
looks with a woman's whimsies round it."
I traced the words with my fingers, holding the letter near the
torch. "'Yet he will not be rougher than his orders,'" said he after
me, and "'He did me a good service once.'"
"Comfits," he continued; "well, thou shalt have comfits, too," and
he fished from his pocket a parcel. It was my tobacco and my pipe.
Truly, my state might have been vastly worse. Little more was said
between Gabord and myself, but he refused bluntly to carry message
or letter to anybody, and bade me not to vex him with petitions.
But he left me the torch and a flint and steel, so I had light
for a space, and I had my blessed tobacco and pipe. When the doors
clanged shut and the bolts were shot, I lay back on my couch.
I was not all unhappy. Thank God, they had not put chains on me, as
Governor Dinwiddie had done with a French prisoner at Williamsburg,
for whom I had vainly sought to be exchanged two years before,
though he was my equal in all ways and importance.
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