Sophia's War Read Online Free PDF Page B

made me recoil—and with the flat of it, struck the man on his backside, shouting, “Move on, rebel!”
    Even as he hit the defenseless prisoner, he laughed. I detested him with all my heart.
    When the prisoners continued to march northward, the young officer did not follow. Instead, he glanced at a piece of paper he had in hand, saluted his fellow officer, then turned west down Maiden Lane.
    Though it vexed me greatly that this cruel fellow was going in the same direction I must go, there was nothing for it but to follow. Not wishing to be near, I kept back and waited for him to turn off in some other direction.
    Alas, he continued to walk the same way as I, going straight until he reached Broadway. There he paused, consulted his paper, and moved toward our house. When I saw him knock upon our door, it came to me like summer thunder: this cruel British soldier must be our boarder.

10
    MOTHER OPENED THE DOOR.
    The officer touched his hat in a salute and made a slight bow. “Madam,” I heard him say in a bright, cheerful fashion, “your most humble servant. Lieutenant John André, Seventh Foot, Royal Fusiliers.”
    Mother stared at him in astonishment. She said, “How can I help you, sir?”
    The lieutenant held out his paper. “It’s my pleasant duty to inform you, madam, that I have been ordered by Commandant Robertson to reside here. While I have no doubt it may be somewhat inconvenient, such are the fortunes of war. I assure you, madam, it’s my desire that you will find me courteous, appreciative, and no burden to your generous hospitality.”
    It was not a speech I expected.
    Mother, clearly uncertain what to do or say, stood gawking at the soldier. Then she noticed me standing on the street, looking on. “Sophia,” she called. “Come. Our boarder has arrived.”
    The officer turned and I truly saw him. He was a youngish man of middling height, olive complexioned,with black hair and a cheerful, graceful air. Upon seeing me, he offered a bright smile, which I had to admit was frank and open.
    To my mother he said, “Is this your daughter?”
    â€œYes, sir, she is.”
    â€œYour servant,” he said to me, with a bit of a dip. In all my life, I had never been bowed to before, much less heard such polite address as “Your servant.” Besides, I thought myself a girl, not a lady. That said, I was flattered. Indeed, his cheerful civility put me into confusion, from which I was saved when Mother said to him, “Please come in, sir.”
    Even then the soldier paused, turned toward me, and with a polite gesture, indicated that he wished me to enter first. His condescension was a further bewilderment to me, who had resolved to hate the man. Yet I could hardly remain upon the street. Instead, in what I thought was a haughty, frosty manner (childishly contrived), I walked past him and into the house.
    He took off his tall hat and followed.
    The three of us stood in the common room in momentary awkwardness. The lieutenant gazed at the sparseness and spoke to my mother, with an occasional glance at me. “Madam, I thank you for your welcome,” he said as if he had been an invited guest. “My primary regret is that it’s this war, this unnatural rebellion—like some brother-to-brother squabble—which brings us together.
    â€œMy deepest desire is that our small differences will soon be peacefully resolved to the benefit of all. In the meanwhile, I am sure we can make the best of it. I amnot one to rise at a feather. And when I tell you that I have only lately come from the wilds of Pennsylvania, where I was held a prisoner by a greasy committee of dullards, you may believe I’m heartily delighted to be here.”
    The kind speech flustered my thoughts.
    â€œThank you, sir,” Mother said. “Shall we show you your room?”
    â€œYou are most kind.”
    Mother turned to me. “Sophia, be so