NOTWITHSTANDING
ALL THE DOUBTS
I rolled the hedger to the shoreline and cast a furtive
eye : nothing intermingles doubt and stealth together
as well as does a secret motive. Mine was to catch
the fleeing Mocassin. The Frenchman who'd been
sent to these shores to kill me. Him, I had to elude,
whatever the tongue and nation. But I had him
here, I knew, to kill him first. And he knew, I knew,
that I was here already. What was French for
'cat and mouse' I did not know.
-
Take the thunder road from the swamp down at
the wharf, and follow it quickly up - it will take
you to a grove of dark and heavy trees. When
you find the cabin-shelter there, knock and
enter, but be sure to say 'Hanson' first, be sure.
-
There aren't too many ways of getting out of this.
I could kill myself, I guess, yes, but better yet
to just kill him first. If I need to write the story
up, I can do that later - after I've disposed
of his lifeless, stinking body. Beneath a tree,
deep; or in a river. I'll see then.
-
It's always a long story - both how things
happen, and how we manage to survive
the happening. Believe me, as a modern
man, this involved a bag of gold and a
beautiful woman - unfortunately both
his. I have the gold yet, yes, and I have
the sweetest memory.
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