"'Tis a word which has divers meanings," he said. "But I am a reasonable man. I am always willing to discuss terms."
"And what might you mean by terms?" I demanded, taking a hand in the conversation.
He deliberated as unconcernedly as if we sat on opposite sides of a table in London, entirely ignoring the huddled corpses at his feet, the line of bodies stiffening in the bitter cold against the stakes and the attendant cordon of Indians whose faces studied his as their fingers itched to resume the torture.
"An undertaking to abandon this wholly barren persecution of my enterprises," he decided. "I should require the signature of Governor Burnet to the document."
"And my companions here?" I asked curiously.
"You forget that even my powers are necessarily limited," he said. "I could not possibly snatch from my people's vengeance Iroquois warriors taken red-handed in an attempt to massacre them."
I laughed.
"You do not yet know me, Murray."
"Possibly you are subject to education," he retorted, buttoning up his greatcoat. "Come, Marjory."
She drew away from him.