"All we know about it is, he wears
an old uniform. He might have picked it up in a gutter, or stolen it
anywhere. General Pepoon thinks he stole it, and I shouldn't wonder."
"It's a lie, a wicked lie!" cried the girl, whirling around, and
confronting her father, with blazing cheeks and eyes.
She had been in a ferment ever since she had heard the proclamation
read that afternoon at meeting, and her father's words had added the
last aggravation to the already explosive state of her nerves. Squire
Edwards looked dumbfounded, and Mrs. Edwards cried in astonishment:
"Desire, child, what's all this?"
But before the girl could speak, there was an effectual diversion.
Jonathan came rushing in from outdoors, crying:
"They're burning the governor!"
"What!" gasped his father.
"They've stuffed some clothes with straw, so's to look like a man, and
put that hat of Justice Goodrich they fetched back from Barrington, on
top and they're burning it for Governor Bowdoin, on the hill," cried
Jonathan. "See there! You can see it from the window. See the light!"
Sure enough, on the summit of Laurel Hill the light of a big bonfire
shone like a beacon.
"It's just where they burned Benedict Arnold's effigy in the war,"
continued Jonathan.
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