even started to shave yet.
“You’ve been following me ever since I left the inn.” she said. “Who are you?” For added emphasis, she pressed the knife point against his throat, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to frighten him. “J- Jonathan Small.” he stammered “I–I meant no harm, I swear.”
“Who sent you’?”
He swallowed hard. “M-Mr. Revere. I–I am his apprentice. He-he said that I should follow you and your friends, see where you went and-and whom you met with.”
“So.” she said, taking away the knife. “It seems Sam Adams doesn’t trust us. You’re a Son of Liberty, then? Show me your medallion.”
Jonathan looked down at the ground. “I–I haven’t got one.” he said. “Mr. Revere said that if I performed my task well, I would be accepted. But it seems that I have failed. They will not want me now.”
“If they will not want you, then neither should they want Revere,” she said. “It took me far less time to spot him following us from The Two Palaverers than it took me to notice you, and you may tell him that I said so. Where did you learn to stalk like that?”
“I learned my woodcraft from the Indians in Pennsylvania,” he said. “They taught me how to hunt with bow and arrow, how to use a knife and hatchet, and to move through the woods without making a sound. I thought that I had learned it well, yet it appears that I could not even fool a city dweller.” She smiled “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Jonathan.” she “You would easily fool most people. but I am not without some knowledge of woodcraft myself.”
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Eighteen.” she lied.
“You are scarcely older than myself.” said Jonathan.
“True.” she said, “but sometimes a year or two can make all the difference in the world. I have seen my share of hardship and adversity. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Jonathan. You did very well, indeed. Do your friends call you Johnny’?”
“Yes.”
“Well. Johnny, mine call me Andre, because my mother was a Basque. I hope we can be friends.”
She gave him back his knife and held out her hand. He smiled and they shook. “I’m on my way to see Reese Hunter and tell him that we have made contact with the Tories.” she said. “With a man named John Hewitt, who promises to take us to a meeting of men who follow the horseman and oppose the Sons of Liberty. And give a message to Sam Adams that if he continues to send men to follow us, he may give us away. We are already risking much. We do not need him adding to the risk. Tell him we came to him forthrightly to offer our help. He must make up his mind whether to trust us or not.”
Johnny nodded. “I will tell Mr. Revere, exactly as you said. And for whatever it is worth. I will also tell him that I trust you.”
“Thank you. Johnny.” Andre said. “Now perhaps you’d best be on your way before-”
The stillness of the night was suddenly shattered by the sound of rapidly approaching hoofbeats. A rider turned into the street, his handsome black stallion galloping at a breakneck pace. The rider was dressed all in black, a long black cloak with a high collar billowed out behind him like a cape. The high collar made it impossible to see his face and it appeared as if he had no head.
“The headless horseman!” Johnny said. “Run. Andre!”
He drew his hunting knife, holding it high, ready to throw, then shoved her away with a hand on her chest. He gasped and his eyes went wide. He had felt the breasts beneath her shirt.
“By God! You’re a girl!”
“Johnny, look out!”
There was a hissing sound as the horseman’s whip whistled through the air and cracked like pistol shot. Johnny cried out in pain and clutched his wrist as the knife fell from his hand. The horseman was upon them. Andre quickly drew her pistol, cocked the hammer, and fired. The shot had no effect. The horse struck her a glancing blow and she went spinning to the ground. Her pistol clattered to the street. She grunted with pain and Johnny was suddenly beside her, helping her up.
“Get up!” he said. “Get up quickly, or we’re done for!”
She looked up and saw the black rider rein in and turn his horse. A figure ran out from the shadows into the street. Andre saw him lift his arm, aiming a gun, and a bright, pencil-thin beam of light shot out and seemed to strike the horseman squarely in the chest… and go right through him.
And suddenly the horseman was no longer there. He had simply vanished. “What…” said Johnny, stunned. “Did you see? It’s true! The horseman really is a ghost! He vanished into thin air! And that light…”
“It was only muzzle flash.” said Andre quickly. “Doubtless one of your fellow Sons of Liberty.”
“But.. where did he go?” asked Johnny.
“Took his shot and ran, most likely.” Andre said.
“And who can blame him?” Johnny said, apparently accepting the explanation of the “muzzle flash.” He shook his head with disbelief. “A ghost! A real ghost! You saw it, didn’t you, the way he disappeared?”
There was shouting as people flung open their windows and started to run out into the street. Andre grabbed Johnny by the arm and pulled him along down an alleyway. When they had gone far enough that they were well out of sight, she stopped and turned to face him.
“I’m not certain what I saw,” said Andre. “But his horse felt solid enough to me. And you felt his whip.”
“Aye, that I did.” he said, looking at the bloody welt on his wrist. “But… “ He stared at her. “But… you’re a girl! I felt your… that is. I–I-” He looked away, flustered and embarrassed. “Forgive me. I–I never meant to-”
“Johnny. look at me.” He met her gaze, his eyes wide.
“You said you trusted me.” she said. “Did you really mean it?”
He nodded.
“Then I must trust you to keep my secret and never tell a soul.” she said.-Will you?”
“He nodded.
“Will you swear?”
“I swear it,” he said. “I will tell no one if that is what you wish.” He grimaced, ruefully. “Anyway, how would it look if they knew that I was bested by a girl? But-but why? Why do you pretend to be a boy?”
“Because I am as good a patriot as you are.” she said, “and because I want to do my pan as badly as do you. But would they let me if they knew I was a girl?”
“No, naturally not.” said Johnny. “That is a man’s work.”
“And can you deny that I can take care of myself as well as any man?” asked Andre.
Johnny looked down at the ground again and shook his head. “No.” he said. “No, in truth. I cannot. I must admit that you are powerful strong. For a girl. And you can shoot, too.”
“Not well enough, apparently,” said Andre. “ I missed the horseman.”
“At such close range?” said Johnny. “I do not think so. You had aimed straight at him. The ball must have passed clean through him. And that other man, who fired from across the street..
“We both missed. Johnny,” she insisted. “I was forced to rush my shot, There was no time to take a careful aim. And a fast-moving target is difficult to hit. I do not believe that there is such a thing as ghosts.”
“But we both saw him disappear!” said Johnny.
“We only thought we saw him disappear.” said Andre. “Sometimes the eyes play tricks. Have you never been hunting in the woods and seen something move out of the corner of your eye, then turned to see that there was nothing there?”
“Yes, truly,” Johnny said, “but this was different. We were both looking right at him!”
“And the street was dark.” she said. “And there were people shouting from their windows and flinging open their doors. The horseman could have turned quickly into a narrow alleyway and in all the noise, we’d not have heard the stallion’s hoofbeats. Now admit it, does that not sound much more likely than the existence of a ghost rider and a ghost horse, who seem to be solid flesh and blood one moment and disappear the next?”
Johnny sighed. “I suppose so.” he said. He grimaced. You make me feel like a fool.”
“It seems this horseman has fooled a lot of people,” she said. “He clearly knows the streets of Boston well, knows all of the back alleys, knows of places to hide. He rides only when the streets are dark and the shadows can conceal him. He is a very clever man, but he is no ghost. And you arc no fool, Johnny Small.
