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The Rangers; or, The Tory's Daughter - A tale illustrative of the revolutionary history of Vermont by D. P. Thompson
page 255 of 474 (53%)
flints and priming; after which he replaced them, and, vaulting into
his saddle, rode leisurely away along the road leading northward. In
the mean time, the person first described retained his position within
his leafy concealment, where, unseen himself, he had seen and watched
from the first, with keen interest, all the movements of the other,
whom, at length, he seemed to recognize, with recollections which
caused him to recoil, and his whole countenance to contract and darken
with angry and disquieting emotions. He was not allowed much time,
however, for indulging his disturbed feelings; for scarcely had the
object of his annoyance disappeared, before his attention was
attracted by a slight rustling sound somewhere within the garden;
when, turning his head, the frown that had gathered on his brow
suddenly gave place to a look of joyful animation, as his eager eye
caught a glimpse of the light, fluttering drapery of a female, who,
with soft, rapid tread, was gliding along the outer edge of the
screening shrubbery towards him. The next instant he was at her side,
ardently grasping her half-proffered hand, and tenderly gazing into
her sweetly-confused countenance.

"How grateful," he began, after a broken salutation--"how grateful I
should be for this obliging attention to the note I sent you,
soliciting a meeting which--"

"Which my gallant preserver of old will be pretty sure to misconstrue,
I fear me," interrupted the maiden, with a half-murmured, sportive laugh.

"No, Miss Haviland," he replied, too intent on a serious demonstration
of his feelings to respond in the same spirit--"no, I am not so
presuming; nor do I wish to count on the former service, which you so
magnify, and which has induced you, perhaps, to grant this interview."
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