The Rapidan is a stream in the north of
the dominion, flowing into the Rappahannock on its south bank. Two
years past a family of French folk--D'Aubigny was their name--had made
a home in a meadow by that stream and built a house and a strong
stockade, for they were in dangerous nearness to the hills, and had no
neighbours within forty miles. They were gentlefolk of some substance,
and had carved out of the wilderness a very pretty manor with orchards
and flower gardens. I had never been to the place, but I had heard the
praise of it from dwellers on the Rappahannock. No Indians came near
them, and there they abode, happy in their solitude--a husband and
wife, three little children, two French servants, and a dozen negroes.
A week ago tragedy had come like a thunderbolt. At night the stockade
was broke, and the family woke from sleep to hear the war-whoop and see
by the light of their blazing byres a band of painted savages. It seems
that no resistance was possible, and they were butchered like sheep.
The babes were pierced with stakes, the grown folk were scalped and
tortured, and by sunrise in that peaceful clearing there was nothing
but blood-stained ashes.
Word had come down the Rappahannock. Ringan said he had heard it in
Accomac, and had sailed to Sabine to make sure.
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