Peter, methodically retrieving his clothing and equipment, grunted assent.
"No, no," I intervened. "'Tis not fair to judge him by his associates. Let him go."
"He will only carry word of what has passed to Murray," objected Ta-wan-ne-ars.
I touched my forehead.
"He hath gone through the torture twice," I said. "I think the Great Spirit has set his seal upon him."
Ta-wan-ne-ars sheathed his ax. Peter, saturated as he was with Indian lore, nodded his head.
"Let him go," said the Dutchman curtly. "It don't matter if Murray knows we hafe found der trail. Sooner or later he hears of this killing anyhow."
I turned to the priest.
"You are free to go, father," I said.
He laughed mockingly.