“Our witnesses,” quickly interposed Judge Chandler, bowing with a significant smile and cautionary wink, while he threw a sidelong glance towards Bart, whom the wary eye of the judge had detected in slightly changing his position, so as to bring his ear more directly towards the speakers—“our witnesses and quarrelling suitors in court you mean, of course?”
“Why, yes—yes, your honor—if you think that necessary,” replied Patterson, following the direction of the other's glance, and then looking inquiringly at Brush, as if to ask whether there was any danger to be apprehended from talking before the servant. “Pooh—nonsense!” said Brush, readily understanding the mute appeal. “Nonsense! You could not make him comprehend what we are talking about in six weeks, if you should do your prettiest. Why, the fellow has not two ideas above a jackass!—so talk out.”
“Well, then,” resumed the sheriff, in a lower tone, “I have satisfied myself that the rebels are plotting like so many Satans, and are in earnest about carrying their threat into execution. Now, the question is, what shall be done—yield the point and submit to be turned out of the Court House to-morrow, as if we were a pack of unruly boys, or what?”
“Yield!” fiercely exclaimed Gale—“not till my pistol bullets have drank the heart's blood of the d——d rascals, first.”
“Ay, Gale,” responded Brush, “that would be well enough, but for one small difficulty, which is, that these demi-savages understand quite as much of that kind of play as we do; and so long as they outnumber us so greatly, the fun of doing what you would propose might be less than talking about it. Let us have Chandler's opinion. What course is it best to take, judge?”
“Temporize!” replied the latter, in a low, emphatic tone, and with a look of peculiar significance—“temporize till——”
“Till we can help ourselves,” said Patterson, taking up the sentence where the other left it, or rather finishing in words what had been expressed by looks.
“That's just my notion,” remarked Stearns. “Let them see and be assured that we are for peace, and want nothing but what is right; all of which may be said truly. And in this manner, if the thing is well managed, their suspicions can be allayed, and we can get possession of the Court House as soon as our friends get on, which will be by to-morrow noon—will it not Patterson?”
“Yes, unless this cussed flood has carried away all the roads, as well as bridges,” gruffly replied the sheriff. “Yes, and if these mobbing knaves can be kept quiet then, we shall be in a situation to ask no favors.”
“And grant none,” said Sabin, with cool bitterness.