At first they moved slowly and unsurely, but when we got to the tree line, I yelled and beat at the nearest pair with a stick and they ran, snorting and pawing. I followed, looking for a weapon.The pack of horses galloped right through the camp, tearing up our tents, scattering the men and carefully avoiding the fire. I saw two of the tied-down prisoners tumbled over in the melee and hoped they were not hurt. Jim was hanging his head, still tied to the tree, but looking as if he had been killed. I grabbed the first Tory I came to and bashed him face first into a tree. He dropped like a sack of flour, but he had no weapon so I ran on, sure I could get my hands on a musket.I stepped on one near a torn-apart tent, grabbed up a handful of cartridges scattered on the ground and loaded the weapon kneeling in the shadows while the redcoated soldiers got reorganized. The officer sent three men after the horses and another back toward where they had been picketed. He almost walked into me. I. She was small and slender, only standing an inch or two over five feet and weighing no more than a hundred pounds, and she had a profoundly delicate beauty about her like a porcelain doll. Her hair was a deep, deep red beyond crimson and shown in the light like a setting sun. All this with her waspish waist and tiny frame added to her gentle fragile appearance till one came to her eyes. For her eyes, the same colour of her mane of hair, protruded a bit and seemed to almost glow with an unearthly intelligence and power. Something in that power drew my to her as my weakness drew her to me.Stories abounded about her but this was to be understood for she was a Waite of the Innsmouth Waites, Daughter of the self proclaimed Wizard Ephraim Waite, a man I had seen some years ago in the libraries at the school, now some years dead. These stories surrounded powers she exhibited: calling storms, knowledge's alien and obscure, but mainly her abilities of hypnotism. But in truth none of these.
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