“Just this: we can lie there in concealment and watch, or, rather, listen to, the battle on the water, and when it is all over, we can join our white friend and his dusky crew, and make them believe it was simply impossible for us to be present at the massacre.”
“Why d’ye want to go so fur down the river as to be opposite the island?”
“Only that we may be near the scene of the conflict, where we shall be able to note its progress and termination.”
Nick Robbins knit his brows, and seemed to meditate again. Then, with a slight show of perplexity, he said:
“Tell yer what, kumrid, my brain are kinder muddled this evenin’, an’ I kin skeercely decide how to act. Yer perpose to take no part in the tussle, an’ I make no doubt yer reasons fur slidin’ out of it are good, but, on second thort, I don’t know whether I ort to shirk my duty or not. With you I reckon it’s all right, but what cause have I fur not ’tendin’ to my duty?”
“Pooh! it isn’t going to hurt you to tell a lie, if you find it necessary to offer an excuse for your absence.”
“Nevertheleast, I ain’t in the habit o’ doin’ that. I don’t want to make ’em think I’m a coward, ’cause thar ain’t nothin’ ’ut I’m afeard of. Tell ye what I’ll do. You kin go on down the river, an’ leave me hyur to think awhile. Ef I decides to stay with yer, I’ll foller er in a few minutes, but ef I don’t, I’ll wait hyur fur the Injuns, an’ go with them. How will that suit yer?”
“That suits me very well,” replied McCabe. “But I sincerely hope you will decide to follow me.”
The delighted villain, glad to get away from the place where the savages were to embark on their errand of death, turned on his heel and quickly took his departure, making the river-bank his guide as he hurried away to the point designated.
Nick Robbins watched his receding form until it was lost to view in the purple twilight, and then, finding himself once more alone, he sat down on a log and buried his face in his hands to think.