Mirandy watched him.
He carried the bowl over to her, and set it in her lap. "Eat 'em all up,
now, every one," he commanded.
Mirandy looked up at him pitifully. Her courage almost failed. She
thought of the boys and the stolen fruit in the _Pilgrim's Progress_,
and she almost felt premonitory cramps.
"Eat 'em," ordered Cap'n Moseby.
And Mirandy ate them, thrusting the pewter spoon, laden with those
stolen berries, desperately into her mouth. Never berries tasted like
those to her. There was no sweetness in them. But she kept thinking how
her mother could give her boneset tea if they made her sick, and she was
determined to have the bucket back.
Cap'n Moseby watched her as she ate. He emptied the remaining berries
out of the bucket into a large bowl. Then he sat opposite, on the
settle. Lafayette lay at his feet.
Mirandy finished the berries, and sat with the empty bowl in her lap.
"Finished 'em?" asked Cap'n Moseby.
"Yes, sir."
"Now, Mirandy Thayer, I'm going to ask you a question." Cap'n Moseby's
eyes looked into hers, and she looked back into his. "If you hadn't been
a little gal, Mirandy Thayer, what would you have been?"
Mirandy hesitated.
"Hey?" said Cap'n Moseby.
"One of my brothers," said Mirandy, doubtfully.
[Illustration: "'EAT 'EM!' ORDERED CAP'N MOSEBY"]
"No, you wouldn't. I'll tell you what you would have been. You would
have been a soldier, and you would have gone right up to the redcoats'
guns.
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