“Disperse, damn you!” Pitcairn bellowed, now furious, his
voice strained, almost shrieking. “Throw down your arms and disperse!” His
horse reared and Pitcairn fought to keep the steed under control, his face red.
If only they would obey, Henry thought. There was no sense
in this.
Then came a voice from among the provincials. Henry did not
hear the words. It did not even have the tone of an order, but Henry somehow
knew the voice was that of their captain.
The company of provincials slowly began to break apart. The
men drifted backwards. They did not lay down their arms, but backed away
slowly. Henry noticed a few still remained in place, glaring at the line of
Regulars.
Henry saw satisfaction on Pitcairn’s face.
And then heard the shot.
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