"No, we will go to Murray's tavern," I said. "I will ask him if he thinks he can commit assassination here in the town as he does in the forest."
"Good," rejoined Ta-wan-ne-ars impassively. "I will accompany my brother there."
I remembered that de Veulle lodged at Cawston's, and hesitated.
"Let my brother Ormerod be at ease," added the Indian. "Ta-wan-ne-ars has mastered his hatred."
"Very well," I replied. "I shall be glad of your company, but we must not be tempted to violence. There are reasons for my meekness."
"It would not be courteous for Ta-wan-ne-ars to slay his enemy in New York when he is the guest of Ga-en-gwa-ra-go," returned the Seneca as he walked lightly beside me.
"I, too, hate your enemy," I said.
He was silent for as much as ten paces.
"My brother means de Veulle?" he asked.
"Yes; I once crossed swords with him."