I'm having fun with all these attacks! Thanks to Jesus freak16 for all the great reviews! And here's Chapter 6.

Chapter 6

"It was Tories," James repeated. His voice was now shallower and sicklier than before.

"I'd gone to get the ink like you told me to, Sarah. I was thinking of a warning to write up on the way, so I got out some paper and started to write." He took the leaflet out of his inky black satchel and showed them, and the two read aloud:

"Warning to All Patriots

Last night, Miss Cecile DuMont was attacked on the docks while collecting firewood. She arrived at Benjamin Franklin's print shop unconscious and in critical condition. There were no witnesses but the attacker, whom she described as having brown hair and blue eyes. That same night, a Mr. James Hiller, age 17, received a message on his washroom mirror, reading, 'Enemies of the crown beware'.

Miss DuMont is safe and has recovered nicely."

"That's similar to what I wrote!" exclaimed Sarah. "Talk about déjà vu," Cecile commented, and the girls let James continue his story."

"I'd already gotten the ink from Mr. Bell, but there was a group of about 30 Tories outside the front door, so he showed me out through the back. When I got to the back room, there was already a Tory there was brown hair and blue eyes. He asked me, 'What's a rebel like you doing in a shop like this?' He had a club in his left hand. 'I'm a journalist,' I replied, fearful of what was going to happen to me. 'I was just getting some ink for our printing press.' I took a step backward. 'A journalist, eh?' he echoed, raising his club menacingly. 'Well, do I have a story for you!'

"And he swung the club, aiming at my head.

"I ducked just in time, but he threw the club aside and clenched his fists, ready to attack me manually. There was nowhere to go. It was either get attacked by one Tory or 30. He took a step backwards, and I sighed with relief, thinking he was going to back away. But I was wrong. He grabbed the club that he threw aside and swung at my head again.

"A searing pain went down all the way to the bottom of my spine, and that's all I remember. A few hours later, Cecile came by and found me, and then she helped me all the way back home."

"Sarah," Cecile began, "about that warning...we might have to add that James was attacked. You go finish the warning. I'll take James upstairs and tend to him. He needs his rest." "No," James said in a dry voice. "I'm fine. Just let me write the warning." "No," Cecile said sternly. "You need rest."

She supported him all the way up the stairs and set him on his bed. "I'll be right back; don't move," she said, as she went to get a cold cloth. "Oh, and you might want to change while I'm gone," she added, as he looked down at himself. He cringed. What was he doing covered in printer's ink? He quickly changed from his ink-stained shirt and breeches, and his......blood- stained stockings? How did that happen?

As he pondered for the answer, he felt some thick liquid on his hands as he removed his stocking. There was a long, thin cut on his left leg. But how do you cut a leg without tearing the stocking? His heart sank, and he looked at his left stocking. There was a four-inch tear on the side.

Quickly, he changed into a pair of pajamas. He took out his hair elastic, gave his long blonde tresses a few strokes with his brush, and put the elastic back in.

"Cecile?" he called. "You might want to get a bandage or two while you're getting the cloth."

Cecile had been downstairs getting some water and wringing out a cloth for James. She finished wringing it out and brought it upstairs with her.

"Why do you need bandages? All you got was a few bangs on the head," Cecile inquired him. Carefully, James rolled up his pant leg, showing her the wound, blood trickling down his shin. "Ooh," she said with a quiver. "I see. Just keep the pant leg rolled up. Now, lie down and try to rest. If there's anything you need, it's got to be sleep. You've done enough today." She fluffed his pillows, eased him down on the bed, folded the cloth and put it on his forehead. "Close your eyes. I'll be back before you know it."

"Sarah, where do you keep the bandages? James needs one badly. He found a cut about four inches long on his leg." "Ooh. Well, bandages are in the medicine cabinet in everyone's washroom." Cecile went to her washroom and checked her medicine cabinet, but she couldn't seem to find any bandages. She went to Sarah's washroom and checked the medicine cabinet. No bandages.

Desperately, she checked James's washroom. He couldn't be in there; he was in bed. No bandages there, either. "Now what?" she thought. With a sinking feeling, she went to the end of the hall to Henri's washroom. The door was closed. She knocked. "Henri, are you in there?" No response. She jiggled the handle. It turned. Henri couldn't be in there; he always locked his door.

She pushed the door open and looked into the mirror.........

Sarah had been downstairs, rewriting the warning. Now it had James's dispatch instead of her own, but she had added to it. "Recently, Miss DuMont came home with Mr. Hiller, who is in his room in mild condition. He was attacked by a man with brown hair and brown eyes, and he had a club, as Miss Dumont's attacker was described. The attack was witness by Mr. Robert Bell, a Pennsylvania printer. Unfortunately, he could not identify the attacker." Henri had been reading Common Sense. There was sheer quiet for five split seconds...until a scream popped the balloon of silence.

They followed the screaming until they reached Henri's washroom at the end of the upstairs hall. "Cecile, what are you doing in my washroom?" Henri demanded. "I was looking for some bandages because I couldn't find any in mine or anybody else's. You can come in." They jiggled the handle and turned it. They opened the door and found Cecile on the floor, a shaking finger pointing at his mirror. "Read the mirror! The attacker's come back!" She trembled. Another message had been written with blood, but now it was on Henri's mirror.

"YOU'RE NEXT, REBEL."

"I-I found the bandages, so I guess I'd better go tend to James," Cecile said. She scolded herself for being found in a boy's washroom, but at the same time felt relieved that she had warned him about an attack.

"James? James?"

James had fallen asleep in the time she was gone. Carefully, she lifted his leg, mopped up the blood, and dressed the wound. He looked so helpless.

"Don't worry," she whispered in his ear. "I'll stay here while you're asleep, and I'll be here when you wake up in the morning." At these words, almost as if he had heard her, a smile now played on his lips. He sighed in his sleep and turned onto his back. She held his hand with assurance for 10 minutes before she got up, sat at his desk, and took out some paper, ink, and her quill. She began to write:

Dear Mrs. Adams,
I enjoyed reading your last letter, and I thank you for your concern. This time, however, I have grave news.
Do you remember James Hiller? Well, today, I took a walk to get some ink from Mr. Robert Bell, and I found him in the back room half-conscious! He's all right now, asleep in his room, and Sarah has given me full responsibility of him. I am writing to you to tell you to warn as many people as possible. Henri, Sarah, James, and I are getting the feeling that there is a Tory on the loose who is attacking Patriots. I'm begging you, Mrs. Adams, please warn your friends and family. Tell them that there have been some serious attacks.
Henri has already received a message on his mirror telling him that he is the next victim. I can't imagine what is going to happen with America and this attacker.
We send our concern.
Sincerely,
Cecile

Meanwhile, Sarah was downstairs, but instead of writing Henri's message in the warning, she, too, was writing a letter.

Dearest Mother,
What is this world coming to? We have found James on the floor of Mr. Robert Bell's print shop, and we have become very scared. Henri has received a message on his washroom mirror, telling him that he is the next victim. Now he won't even come out of his room! I fear that the message is true, Mother, and that he will be attacked. I hope you share our concern for the colonists.

Your loving daughter,

Sarah

"What day is it?" James asked groggily, sitting up in his bed. "What TIME is it?" he said, looking out the window. The sun hadn't even risen yet. He looked at his bedside clock. It was 5:30 in the morning!

"Morning, James," Cecile said, turning around in her chair. Her curls looked shinier than ever, and her soft, brown eyes were sharp with concern. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, thanks, but why are you still here?" He hadn't heard her after all. "Oh, so you didn't hear me. While you were asleep, I whispered in your ear that I would stay with you, and that I would be here when you woke up. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. Do you want me to stay a little longer, or do you want me to go back to my room?"

"Well," James said. He had liked the fact that someone cared for him. "If you'd like to, you can stay." "I suppose that would be acceptable." She smiled. Suddenly, a horse's neigh startled her. "What's that?" she asked him. "Oh, it's probably my horse, Caesar. He's been feeling dreadful for days." "Would you like me to go check on him?" "Be my guest."

She put on her coat and scurried to the backyard, where Caesar was obviously in pain. He was lying down on his back, apparently trying to push something out of his stomach. "Easy, Caesar, it's me," she said. "Everything will be okay." She touched Caesar's stomach and felt...something kicking. "Oh...my...gosh...Don't worry, Caesar. I can help." She touched Caesar's stomach and pulled hard...

"What's wrong with Caesar?!" James demanded as Cecile came back into his room with a bowl of hot soup. "Is he all right? Will I be able to ride him?"

"Calm down, calm down," Cecile said softly. "You won't be able to ride Caesar for a few months, and she is going to be all right. Come with me." She wrapped him in a blanket and took him to the backyard.

"You don't want to get too close," she warned him. "Horses are extremely overprotective." James's jaw dropped. "Wait...back in my room...why did you call Caesar 'she'? Caesar's a male horse."

Cecile grinned. "Not anymore." And she showed him Caesar's newborn foal.

"Caesar..." James said softly. "You're...you're a mother!"

It had been four months since the death threat had been written on Henri's mirror. It had also been four months since Caesar gave birth. James had recovered the morning of the birth, and he thanked Cecile for her concern, and for taking good care of Caesar. Night had fallen, and James, Sarah and Cecile were outside enjoying the new fallen February snow. They had been riding their horses on the street, James riding a fully-recovered Caesar, Sarah riding her chestnut horse, Blaze, and Cecile was riding Soot, the black thoroughbred Caesar had given birth to.

Henri had decided to stay home, saying that he'd better not risk it. "Oh, come off it," Cecile had said. "Nobody's going to attack you. It's been four months, for goodness' sake." But still, he had refused.

"I'm worried about Henri. I'm going to check on him. Hyah!" Cecile said, and she galloped back to the print shop.

"The door's wide open!"

"Henri?" She called out into the darkness. She picked up a lantern and lit it. Suddenly, she felt someone poke her back. She turned around, ready to strike with the lantern...

"James? Sarah? What are you two doing here? You should be outside, enjoying the snow!" "Well, what's snow without our two best friends?" Sarah asked. "She's right, you know," James said.

"I'll go upstairs and see if he's upstairs," Cecile said, and she climbed the stairs and ran to the end of the hall, where Henri's room was.

"Henri? Are you in here? Henri?"

She gasped and shrieked, "Henri!"

Henri was lying face-down on his bed. His shirt was ripped down the back, and blood was seeping out from a cut the same length as his back. His brown hair was more tousled than ever.

All Cecile could do was laugh. "Ha! This is all a dream! Yeah! It's just a dream! The blood on his back, a ripped shirt, messier hair, IT'S ALL A DREAM!"

CRUNCH.

With a sinking feeling, Cecile looked down at her shoes. She took one step backwards.

There, on the floor, was one of the two gold buttons she had given him for Christmas.

And now it was crushed.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Cecile! Cecile! Are you all right? We heard you screaming and ran up as fast as we---.." James stopped in mid sentence.

The two of them found Cecile on her knees, crying. They looked up and looked at Henri in horror.

"Who's that?" Sarah asked. She pointed to a shadowy figure in the corner. "THE CULPRIT'S GETTING AWAY!" James yelled, and Cecile looked up from her melancholy for a minute.

The shadowy figure was opening Henri's window and jumped out!

"Stop him!" Sarah ran down the stairs after the enemy. But Cecile stayed. "Are you sure you don't want to go with Sarah? I can take care of him."

"No," James said firmly. "Sarah took care of you, and you took care of me. Now it's my turn to take full responsibility. Go with Sarah." He put his hands on her shoulders and gave her three wise words: "Be careful, Cecile."

"I will be, James." She gave him one last hug and she was off.

"Stop right there, Tory!" Cecile yelled, but he wouldn't stop. He just kept going faster, and faster, and faster! They chased after him for 10 miles before they gave up all hope. Walking the 10 miles home, both girls breathless, Soot and Blaze neighed and nudged the two girls' backs with their heads. They turned around. "Blaze!" "Soot! How did you get here?" "Where did you come from?" Both Blaze and Soot nickered and winked at their owners. They mounted their horses and galloped what would have been a 9- mile-walk of agony.

"Is everything all right?" Cecile asked James after Sarah narrated the chase for him, leaving out no details. "Yeah. Everything's okay, but I'm afraid Henri's not. He's not breathing. I mopped up the blood and dressed the wound, but nothing is doing him any good." He showed the girls Henri's back, his shirt still ripped.

"Come on, Henri," the two teenagers and the girl said. "You can do it, just make it for tonight!" Cecile started to cry again and held Henri's hand. "Come on, garçon. You can make it! Jacqueline and Joseph don't want to see you now!"

He shuddered, and then moaned softly. "He's-----not----dead!" "Oh, thank goodness!" "Who attacked you, Henri? We have to know immediately! Who was in this room?"

By this time, Henri was fully conscious. "Gilbert was in here with me. He wanted to make sure I was all right, but I had already been attacked by then. He was trying to help me!" "But why did he run away?" "Why else? He was scared and thought you were the real attacker." "But then who attacked you?" "It was a boy, with brown hair and brown eyes. He said that maybe he should attack me instead of a full-grown man."

It took James and Sarah about five minutes to think, but Cecile was staring at him wide-eyed the whole time, shaking her head."

"No, Henri, no! It can't be! This is all a dream!"

CRUNCH. She had taken another step forward. With another sinking feeling, she lifted her foot.

There, underneath the sole, was the other golden button she had given him for Christmas. She burst into angry tears.

"But why did you put the golden buttons on the floor? Did you want me to step on them?" "Oui, Cecile. I couldn't stand thinking of the pain you had while being attacked, while helping deliver Soot, and while taking care of James. The pain was even too much for me, much less you. Crushing the buttons was the only way, and when one gives one golden buttons, the one who gives them mush crush them in order to undo the spell."

"Where in the world did you hear that?"

"From you."

"But why, Henri, why?"

"It was the only way."

"But that means that the attacker is still out there."

At these words, James's and Sarah's heads snapped up.

"No, Henri! You wouldn't. You couldn't!"

Henri nodded his head sadly. "Yes, mes amies, you guessed correctly.

"I am the brown haired, brown eyes boy. I attacked myself."

Harley :)

that was freaky! you know what to do.