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Seamus awoke with a start, men were yelling outside and apparently from the downstairs front room of his grandfather's house. In fact, one of the shouting men was his grandfather, Angus McTeague
"What's that you say, lad?"
As his horse pranced and acted eager to be off, the horseman controlled his steed, then shouted, "The regulars are out, crossed over by ship's boats from Boston, they'll be marching this way I'll wager."
Angus McTeague shook his head, then turned to look at his wife, Annie, before returning his attention to the man on horseback.
"What do ye think their goal might be?" he shouted at the horseman.
"The powder store at Concord. Looking to seize Adams and Hancock as well, would be my guess. Now I must be off!"
Kicking back his heels, the rider spurred his horse on down the road, to Lexington.
The corporal entered the smoky tavern and looked around, spotting his man, he shouldered his way over to the table where the man was seated.
"Watch yersel' soldier!" Snapped one workingman whose arm was jostled as the corporal moved past him.
"Sorry, lad, King's business, step aside now."
Sergeant Allen Andrews looked up from his ale and grimaced. "Sweet Lord, Thomas, can't ye not make such a fuss. Sit down!" It came out as an order, and the corporal treated it that way.
Sitting down, the corporal, one Thomas Holloway, glanced back over his shoulder at the colonials standing near the bar. "Cheeky bastards, ain't they?"
"Aye, they can be. Now what's the fuss that you must interrupt a man's well-earned ale?"
"Everyone's recalled to barracks, something's afoot. I don't know what, but the captain looked concerned and I do believe our new leftenant was ready to pee hisself. So I'm guessing it's something to do with these bloody colonials."
A man passing by gave Holloway a dirty look, Holloway nodded at the man, "No offense meant."
"Have you no sense, man?" Andrews growled at his corporal. "Times are pretty tense right now and ye'd beard these people in their own taverns?"
"Sorry, Sarge, I'm a bit wrought up."
Getting up from his chair, Holloway leaned over and hissed in Andrews' ear, "I think we're on the march tonight. Just us grenadiers and the light boys from every regiment in town. Best hurry back, I've got two more places to visit."
Holloway rushed out, leaving Andrews thoughtful. If the grenadiers and light infantry were on alert, something was indeed "up," a show of force and the officers would send out a battalion to march around, show the flag as it were. But if it was the combined grenadier and light infantry companies from all of the regiments in Boston, something serious indeed was afoot.
"Leftenant Mitchell, walk with me." Captain John Williston stepped out the door, expecting the lieutenant to follow without question. He wasn't wrong.
"Sir?"
"You're scaring the lads, stop dashing about like a nervous schoolgirl. Calm and steady, that's what the lads like to see in their officers. Panic is contagious. Now can you control yourself? Or do I leave you here when we march for the boats?"
"Boats, Sir?"
"Yes, boats. If we march across Boston Neck, every man jack in the colonies will know about it before sunrise. We're crossing over the Charles, to Lechmere Point. Leftenant Colonel Smith thinks that's the best course of action, fewer colonials snooping around in that direction. By the time they figure it out, we'll be halfway to our destination by then."
"Destination, Sir?"
"Good Lord man, has no one briefed you on tonight's little expedition?"
"Sir, something about seizing the colonials' store of powder and shot up at Concord. But why should we worry, d'ye think the colonials would stand up to the King's army?"
"I don't, but the less fuss the better, don't ye think?"
"Of course, Sir. I'll calm down, please don't leave me behind."
"There's a good lad, now off with ye, make sure the lads have all their gear. We might be out for a few days."
"Quit yer bellyaching boys, those shoes will dry out before ye know it. I believe it's going to be a hot day once the sun comes up."
Sergeant Andrews walked among the men forming up on the shoreline. The crossing had taken longer than expected but now the men were formed up and ready to move off. Things had been quiet until now, Andrews hoped it would stay that way.
He walked by Lieutenant Mitchell, saw the lad was standing next to his horse.
"Plan on walking, Sir?"
"Well, I thought I might, you know, walk with the men."
Andrews shook his head, "Ride the horse, laddie Sir, it's why the King made you buy the bloody animal."
At that moment Captain Williston rode up, "Problem, Sergeant?"
"No Sir, just telling the Leftenant that if the King had wanted him to walk ..."
"He wouldn't have a horse. Quite right. Enough of this foolishness, Leftenant. We're starting to move."
And indeed, the company to their front was stepping off. Williston and his grenadiers soon followed, with Lieutenant Mitchell mounted, just as, Sergeant Andrews thought, God had intended.

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