He took it with the eager curiosity of a child, looked
at it wonderingly, made out what it was, and then ran leaping and frisking
up and down the yard, holding it high over his head, and shouting, "Ta
ginny, ta ginny, ta bonny, gowd ginny!"
I was saved further trouble by the approach of one of the officers, or,
to speak with later knowledge, chiefs, of these wild warriors. He informed
me in excellent English that he had heard the firing, seen my parleying at
the window and my subsequent surrender, and desired to know the meaning of
it all.
"The gentleman at the window," I explained, "is Colonel Waynflete,
travelling to join Prince Charles. The lady is his daughter, and I am
their servant, by name Oliver Wheatman of the Hanyards. These King's men,
belonging to my Lord Brocton's regiment of dragoons, attacked us; we
refused to surrender, and the rascally sergeant in command smoked us out.
I pray you, sir, to run the wagon up to the window that I may hand them
down, since the door is heavily barricaded."
It was done immediately, and he and I ran up to the window together.
"You young dog," said the Colonel.
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