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Richardson, John, 1796-1852

"Hardscrabble; or, the fall of Chicago. a tale of Indian warfare"

No one
knows the force of the Indians, or how soon they may be
here. Go in, dearest, prepare what you may more immediately
require for a few days, and my men will carry your trunks
down to the scow which is waiting to receive you."
"And if I should consent to go, Ronayne, you know my poor
mother cannot rise from her bed. What do you propose to
do with her? To remove her, and let her know WHY she is
removed, would soon finish the work her debilitating
disease has begun."
"I have made every necessary provision," answered the
young officer, glad to find that her thoughts could be
diverted from the immediate source of her sorrow. "Elmsley's
wife, to whom I spoke a few hurried words on leaving, is
even now preparing for your temporary reception, and I
have thought of an excuse to be given to your mother.
You must for once in your life use deceit, and say that
Van Vottenberg desires her presence in the fort, because
his duties have become so severe that he can no longer
absent himself to bestow upon her that professional care
she so much requires. Nay, look not so incredulous.


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