Zeke was visibly dilated by all this attention, incense, and
military glory; and he stepped forth from each village and hamlet
as if the world were scarcely large enough for the prowess of
himself and companions. Even on parade he was as stiff as his
long-barrelled flintlock, looking as if England could hope for no
quarter at his hands; yet he permitted no admiring glances from
bright eyes to escape him. He had not traversed half the distance
between his native hamlet and Boston before he was abundantly
satisfied that pretty Susie Rolliffe had made no mistake in
honoring him among the recruits by marks of especial favor. He
wore in his squirrel-skin cap the bit of blue ribbon she had given
him, and with the mien of a Homeric hero had intimated darkly that
it might be crimson before she saw it again. She had clasped her
hands, stifled a little sob, and looked at him admiringly. He
needed no stronger assurance than her eyes conveyed at that
moment. She had been shy and rather unapproachable before, sought
by others than himself, yet very chary of her smiles and favors to
all.
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