Israel Potter | Page 9

the influence of the liquor. This was favorable.
But still, they were full-grown, strong men; and Israel was handcuffed. So Israel resolved
upon strategy first; and if that failed, force afterwards. He eagerly listened. One of the
drunken soldiers muttered in his sleep, at first lowly, then louder and louder,--"Catch 'em!
Grapple 'em! Have at 'em! Ha--long cutlasses! Take that, runaway!"
"What's the matter with ye, Phil?" hiccoughed the other, who was not yet asleep. "Keep
quiet, will ye? Ye ain't at Fontenoy now."
"He's a runaway prisoner, I say. Catch him, catch him!"
"Oh, stush with your drunken dreaming," again hiccoughed his comrade, violently
nudging him. "This comes o' carousing."
Shortly after, the dreamer with loud snores fell back into dead sleep. But by something in
the sound of the breathing of the other soldier, Israel knew that this man remained
uneasily awake. He deliberated a moment what was best to do. At length he determined
upon trying his old plea. Calling upon the two soldiers, he informed them that urgent
necessity required his immediate presence somewhere in the rear of the house.
"Come, wake up here, Phil," roared the soldier who was awake; "the fellow here says he

must step out; cuss these Yankees; no better edication than to be gettin' up on nateral
necessities at this time o'night. It ain't nateral; its unnateral. D---n ye, Yankee, don't ye
know no better?"
With many more denunciations, the two now staggered to their feet, and clutching hold of
Israel, escorted him down stairs, and through a long, narrow, dark entry; rearward, till
they came to a door. No sooner was this unbolted by the foremost guard, than, quick as a
flash, manacled Israel, shaking off the grasp of the one behind him, butts him sprawling
back into the entry; when, dashing in the opposite direction, he bounces the other head
over heels into the garden, never using a hand; and then, leaping over the latter's head,
darts blindly out into the midnight. Next moment he was at the garden wall. No outlet
was discoverable in the gloom. But a fruit-tree grew close to the wall. Springing into it
desperately, handcuffed as he was, Israel leaps atop of the barrier, and without pausing to
see where he is, drops himself to the ground on the other side, and once more lets grow
all his wings. Meantime, with loud outcries, the two baffled drunkards grope deliriously
about in the garden.
After running two or three miles, and hearing no sound of pursuit, Israel reins up to rid
himself of the handcuffs, which impede him. After much painful labor he succeeds in the
attempt. Pressing on again with all speed, day broke, revealing a trim-looking, hedged,
and beautiful country, soft, neat, and serene, all colored with the fresh early tints of the
spring of 1776.
Bless me, thought Israel, all of a tremble, I shall certainly be caught now; I have broken
into some nobleman's park.
But, hurrying forward again, he came to a turnpike road, and then knew that, all comely
and shaven as it was, this was simply the open country of England; one bright, broad park,
paled in with white foam of the sea. A copse skirting the road was just bursting out into
bud. Each unrolling leaf was in very act of escaping from its prison. Israel looked at the
budding leaves, and round on the budding sod, and up at the budding dawn of the day. He
was so sad, and these sights were so gay, that Israel sobbed like a child, while thoughts of
his mountain home rushed like a wind on his heart. But conquering this fit, he marched
on, and presently passed nigh a field, where two figures were working. They had rosy
cheeks, short, sturdy legs, showing the blue stocking nearly to the knee, and were clad in
long, coarse, white frocks, and had on coarse, broad-brimmed straw hats. Their faces
were partly averted.
"Please, ladies," half roguishly says Israel, taking off his hat, "does this road go to
London?"
At this salutation, the two figures turned in a sort of stupid amazement, causing an almost
corresponding expression in Israel, who now perceived that they were men, and not
women. He had mistaken them, owing to their frocks, and their wearing no pantaloons,
only breeches hidden by their frocks.
"Beg pardon, ladies, but I thought ye were something else," said Israel again.
Once more the two figures stared at the stranger, and with added boorishness of surprise.
"Does this road go to London, gentlemen?"
"Gentlemen--egad!" cried one of the two.
"Egad!" echoed the second.
Putting their hoes before them, the two frocked boors now took a good long look at Israel,
meantime scratching their heads under their plaited straw hats.

"Does it, gentlemen? Does it