Awwwww! That chapter was so sad! Well, anyways, that was supposed to happen because now it's a horror story! ominous music ;) OK so here's chapter 5. I hope it's not too short.

Chapter 5

"Maybe you should take her upstairs," Moses told James. He turned to Sarah and said, "You might want to get a cold cloth and some bandages. Those wounds aren't going to go away without a little help." Henri followed James, who was carrying the limp girl, upstairs into her room. His eyes were bloodshot, and as soon as James laid her on the bed, they both dropped to their knees and prayed for her to get better.

"Is she......dead?" Henri asked James, his body shaking with fear. "No," Sarah answered softly, walking quietly into the room. "She's still breathing." She pointed to Cecile, and they noticed that her stomach was undulating. The two boys sighed in relief. "I don't know what I would do without her," Henri confessed. "She's not really a best friend to me anymore. She's become more of a sister." "You two go off to bed," Sarah ordered James and Henri. "She needs to rest, and I have to put some bandages on her. We've had enough excitement for one night." The boys bounded off to their washrooms to change.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Sarah and Henri both heard James's scream from across the hall. "You stay with Cecile," Henri said to her. "I'll go see what's wrong with James."

He walked into James's washroom. James was still dressed, but his finger was shaking, pointing at the mirror. "Is that all?" Henri started to say, but all that came out was "Is---." James had cut him off. "Did you see it?" he asked. Slowly, Henri turned to the mirror and gasped.

Someone had written in blood on the mirror:

"ENEMIES OF THE CROWN, BEWARE"

Henri was shaking violently when she got back to Cecile's room. He said, "Sarah, someone has written a message on James's mirror in blood. It says 'Enemies of the crown, beware.' What do you suppose it means?" Sarah took a deep breath. "I think it means that all of the Patriots are going to be attacked. This is bad. Maybe one of us is next!"

"Wait a minute. Look! James, come quick!"

Cecile was twitching. She began to moan softly. Everything was coming back into focus. Her eyes opened as slits, and then they completely open. Her tight black curls were disheveled, and there were bruises on her face, arms, and back. She had a long, red cut on her right cheek, and she had a black eye. "Cecile!! Mon dieu, she's all right!" "Whew! We thought we lost you for a second there." Her voice was shallow. "Wh-where am I? Henri, James, Sarah? Is that really you? Je m'ai envie de que j'ai obtenu le succès par un camion." "Cecile, it's going to be ok," James assured her. And Henri added, "I don't think a truck can do that much damage." "We'll get to the bottom of this, I promise you. What happened?" James asked, and Cecile began her explanation as lightning lit up her face. The images were right in front of the four of them, and Cecile voiced over the scene.

"I was picking up some kindling for the fireplace. Moses said we were short on it, and would I like to go get some. He gave me directions to get to and from there, since I don't know my way around here without Henri. Most of the time, he's behind me or in front of me. Then it started to rain." Thunder crashed, more lightning illuminated her face, and she continued.

"When I heard the thunder and lightning, I ran home so I could try to miss some of the storm. But this man with brown hair and blue eyes cut me off. 'What are you doing with so much wood, little girl?' he asked me. I replied, 'Please sir, I'm a chambermaid and I'm delivering firewood to Mr. Thomas Jefferson.' 'Are you?' he asked. 'Well, you're not going ANYWHERE.' And he took out a club and struck me about twenty times with it until I kicked him and ran away. Then he started chasing me and he said, 'Lie down with me or I'll kill you!' My mind was screaming, 'WHAT?!?!' So I just ran faster until he caught up with me and punched me on my back. Then he got a knife and cut my face. We were about 5 minutes away from here, so I screamed, hoping you could hear me."

"Wow," Henri commented. "I heard something, but I ignored it and thought it was the wind." "Keep going," Sarah requested. "Maybe there are some things she didn't tell us."

"Yes, there are," she said. "I finally kicked him off and ran back here. I banged on the door several times, but all of my strength went into getting him away from me, and I fainted. And that's all I remember. I'm so glad one of you found me," she added, as James handed her some chicken broth. "I bet you thought I was a ghost or something," she said, and Henri shifted guiltily in his chair. "I'm happy to have such good friends who care a lot about me. Back in France, nobody liked me. Nobody wanted to be friends with me. I was just Cecile DuMont, the most hated person in France."

"That's horrible!" Sarah said. "So that's what happened today?" "Yes," Cecile replied. "He, what's that word? The one where people attack you if you don't, well, you know." And she turned a little pinker than before. "Oh!" Sarah and James said, and they turned pink, too. "What are you talking about? I don't understand." "Trust me," James said to him, "You don't want to know." "Yes, I do." "No, you don't. It's too advanced for your age." "Oh, tell him," Sarah said. "He's just going to keep bothering us if we don't."

"Ohhhh...all right," James succumbed, and he took Henri into his room. "Henri," James began, "Did you parents ever give you the talk about the birds and the bees?" "The what?!" "This is going to be a long night," James said to himself, and he launched into an explanation about "reproduction". While James was talking, Henri was becoming a little disturbed. By the end of "The Talk", he was speechless. "Now I know why you didn't want to tell me. You're right. I shouldn't have asked. James?" he added as James got up to leave. "Can I ask you a question?" "Sure, what is it?"

"Well," he moved uncomfortably on his bed. "I wanted to ask you what it feels like to be in love." "Oh. Well, why did you ask me?" "Oh, come off it, James. You're a girl magnet!" And Henri started to snicker. "Do you want me to answer the question or not?" "Fine, go ahead." "Well, when you're in love, sometimes you get a hole in your stomach, and your legs feel like jelly. Do you feel like that?"

"Yes," Henri replied. "And those songs at the balls that I used to think were stupid, don't seem so stupid now."

James grinned from ear to ear. "Congratulations, Henri! You are officially in love!!! With whom, may I ask?" "Yes you can ask, but I'm not telling!" And they both ran off to Cecile's room so they could listen to the rest of her story.

"He didn't, did he?" Sarah asked Cecile. "Yes, he did," she said. "But why would a 20-year-old man want to rape an 11-year-old girl?" James mused. "Oh, is that the word for it?" Cecile asked. "Well, yes, he did rape me, and I don't know why. Have you seen anything, well, out of the ordinary while I was unconscious?"

"Yes!" James and Henri shouted. "When you were unconscious, Sarah told us to go to our washrooms, and when I got to mine, I went to my mirror and it had a message that said, 'Enemies of the crown, beware.'" "And then you woke up!" Henri finished. "That is strange," Cecile said. "Was it written in blood?" "Yes, how did you know?" Cecile mustered up the rest of her speaking strength and said, "It's a sign. Someone's attacking the Patriots, and we have to protect ourselves against them."

"Come now," Sarah said. "I'm going to stay with you for the rest of the night. You just rest. James, Henri, go up to bed. You need your rest, too. We might have to print a warning in the Gazette tomorrow morning."

The next day, Cecile woke up at 10:30. "Wow, I'm up late!" she said. "Good morning Sarah. Sarah?" But she wasn't there. "I'm down here, Cecile! I'm writing up the warning. Can you go wake up James?" "No problem," she shouted down the flight of stairs. "He's still awake, too?" "I suppose. Now could you wake him up?" "Sure!" And she bounded down the hall and knocked on James's door. "James, it is 10:30 in the morning. Wake up!" But there was no answer. She turned the knob and weakly pushed the door. "James?" He wasn't in his bed.

"Sarah? He's not in his room." "Oh. I think he might be out getting ink." "I'll go look for him," Cecile said, and she went upstairs to wash and dress. "Can I read the warning first so that if the unthinkable happens, then I know how much ink to get?" "Of course." She handed over the paper and Cecile began to read to herself:

"A Warning to All Americans.

Last night, around 6:00 pm, Cecile DuMont was attacked by an unknown man. There were no witnesses, but as she told three of her friends, they began to suspect that the attacker may be a British Loyalist. Then Mr. James Hiller, age 17, receieved a message written in blood on his washroom mirror, reading "Enemies of the crown, beware." Henri LeFebvre, age 11, assures that this is not a practical joke. It is strongly advised that Patriots watch where they are going, for there may be another attack. Heed the words of this article.

Miss DuMont has recovered from her injuries and unconsciousness recently."

"Wow, that's amazing! I don't think I could write anything like that! And you got the information in!" Cecile said. "Why, thank you!" Sarah replied.

"Well, I had better go look for James. Where does he usually get ink?" "Oh, he usually gets it from Robert Bell." "I know where that is. I won't be long! Je vous verrai plus tard!" she called behind her as she set off for the shop.

"James? James? Ja-ames, where are you? You're scaring everyone to death!" Cecile cried as she got to Mr. Bell's print shop. "Excusez-moi, monsieur. Do you know where I can find Mr. James Hiller?" "Oh, James!" Mr. Bell said, and he added, "This may be a bit of a shock for you and your friends." His Scottish accent had become thicker with each word. He took her to the back room, where she saw the worst shock of her life.

"James!"

17-year-old James Hiller was on the floor, covered in ink. His stockings were crimson with dried blood, and his face was bruised. His eyes were open as slits, and he was moaning.

"Cecile, is that you?" "Yes, James. It'll be all right. Give me your hand." Cecile had become much stronger. James held out his hand, and she supported him all the way home.

"Sarah, I found James." She clapped her hand to her mouth. "Tories," James moaned, "It was Tories. They got me in the shop."

hey guys! here r the translations:

Mon dieu: My God
Je m'ai envie de que j'ai obtenu le succès par un camion.: I feel like I got hit by a truck.
Excusez-moi, monsieur: Excuse me, sir.
Je vous verrai plus tard!: I'll see you later!

I don't really know that much French, but I know some! I got the 2nd one off of www.freetranslation.com lol :)