home before Mother and Grandfather returned. Oh, how she wished she had not been so thoughtless!
Felicity was a fast runner. In a few minutes, she reached the Coles’ house. She ran back to the garden and hurried toward the arbor where she had left the guitar. Ah! She panted with relief. There it was, propped against the bench just where she had left it. But when Felicity reached for the guitar, she saw someone coming. It was Mr. Cole and a British officer. Felicity did not want them to see her, so she ducked behind a bush. She hugged the guitar to her chest.
The British officer was speaking in a serious voice. “The governor’s marines are about five miles away, at Burwell’s Landing on the James River,” said the officer. “They’ll come very late tonight and take the gunpowder out of the Magazine.”
Felicity froze. She could not believe her ears.
The officer went on, “Governor Dunmore will tell the people of Williamsburg that he heard rumor of a slave uprising. He’ll say the gunpowder was removed for the colonists’ own protection.”
Mr. Cole spoke up. “The people will know that’s a lie and that the governor has stolen their gunpowder,” he said. “Everyone knows the governor is afraid the colonists will use the gunpowder to fight against him and our British soldiers. ’Tis sad indeed when the governor must stoop to such low deeds as lying and stealing.”
The officer sounded angry. “I beg your pardon, sir!” he said.
“Aye,” said Mr. Cole. “We must all beg pardon for what the governor is about to do. This will destroy any last shred of trust the colonists have in him. I am loyal to the king, but I am sorry to be involved in such deeds.” He sighed. “Very well, then,” he said to the officer. “You may go. I have received your report.”
The two men walked away, but Felicity did not move. The British officer’s words echoed in her head. The marines are going to take the gunpowder tonight! She had to tell someone! They must be stopped! What on earth was she going to do? What could she possibly do?
Felicity ran home holding the guitar close to her. She was full of fear and confusion.
When Felicity stepped into the house, her heart sank. Mother, Father, and Grandfather all sat in the parlor. Felicity put the guitar behind her back.
Mrs. Merriman looked up with a smile. “There you are, Lissie,” she said. “Were you playing with Posie? We shall…” She stopped. The smile faded from her face. “Felicity, what is the matter? You look a fright! And what do you have behind your back?” Mrs. Merriman came over to Felicity. “Why, it’s the guitar,” she said as she took it away. “And just look at it! The ribbon is torn through! The guitar is wet! Felicity! What have you done?”
Felicity could not meet her mother’s eyes. “I’m sorry. Truly I am. I meant no harm,” she said. “I just wanted Miss Manderly to tune it and…and I wanted Annabelle to see it.”
“You took the guitar?” asked Mother. “But you were most clearly told not to take it out of this house. And how did it get so wet?”
“Well, I…it was a mistake,” said Felicity. “I was playing it at Elizabeth’s house, and then we went to the muster, and I…I forgot it.”
Felicity hung her head. She had never felt so ashamed in her life.
Mrs. Merriman looked angry and sad at the same time. She handed the guitar back to Felicity. “Show your grandfather what you have done. You must ask him to forgive you,” she said.
Felicity slowly carried the guitar to Grandfather. Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Grandfather,” she whispered. “Please forgive me. I am so sorry.”
Grandfather took the guitar and touched the bedraggled ribbon. He frowned. “I was wrong to bring the guitar here,” he said. “I see now that you are too young to be trusted with something so valuable.”
“Go to bed, Felicity,” said Father. “Think about what you have done.”
Felicity started to go. She wanted to run from the room, run from the house, and never face any of them ever again. But she made herself stop and turn around. “Father,” she said. “Please listen to me.”
Mr. Merriman nodded. “What is it?” he asked.
Felicity took a deep breath. “When I went back to the Coles’ house to fetch the guitar just now, I heard Mr. Cole talking to a British officer. The officer said that…” Mother, Father, and Grandfather were frowning at her, but Felicity forced herself to go on. “The officer said that British marines would come tonight to take the gunpowder out of the Magazine. And Mr. Cole said it was stealing, but—”
“Stop!” growled Grandfather. His eyes were dark as thunderclouds. “Stop this wild talk! ’Tis foolish, irresponsible, shameful! Stop it, I say!” He shook his head in anger. “Felicity, I am sorely disappointed in you!”
Felicity was rigid with shame.
Father sighed. “Felicity, how can you expect us to believe such a tale?” he asked. “You have shown yourself to be dishonest and irresponsible in the matter of the guitar. How can we possibly trust you?”
“But Father,” Felicity said, “I did hear them! I did!”
Father held up his hand. “Don’t disgrace yourself further by spreading wild falsehoods, especially about such serious matters,” he said sternly. “Go now. We have heard enough from you for one evening.”
The Long, Dark Night
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