Rebel in the SouthChapter 61 Nan
An hour later, after I had described several times to many officers that indeed the British seemed to be abandoning their outer defenses, Jamey Dillon, the blacksmith, and I were aboard a old wagon urging its mule to hurry west toward Williamsburg where I was sure Captain Foster's people could get us some horses. I had shed the green coat but kept the musket and ammunition. The smith had pried the left cuff from my wrist, but I was still wearing the other and the length of chain. We spent...