"Oh, sir, pray you, do not bait me!" she cried. "I would not believe you before, but that is the man's hair, beyond a doubt."
"And what if it is?" said Murray kindly, drawing her to him with one arm. "Is that any reason why you should express shame?"
"But he was one of your people, sir. You told me——"
"Tut, tut, my dear Marjory. You are new to this New World of ours. The frontier is not like Scotland. We must work with what tools we find. I say it to my sorrow"—and he said it furthermore without even the twitch of an eyelid—"I am compelled occasionally to consort with men I might prefer to do without."
He gave his attention once more to me.
"In a word, Master Ormerod, what hath happened that you approach me in so hostile a spirit?"
"In a word, Master Murray," I replied, "your man Bolling, or 'The Red Death,' as he seems to be known in these parts, tried to kill me with knife and hatchet this evening."
"I am constrained to believe you," he said with an appearance of much sorrow, "but I can not hold myself responsible, sir."
"It may be that the governor will not be so indulgent," I commented sarcastically.
Murray drew himself erect.