“Certainly not, as long as I am chained as a slave,” replied I.
My mistress made no reply, but busied herself with barring the door and window. She then placed the table and stools so that she might stand upon them and fire out of the upper loop-holes; pulled the moss out of the loop-holes; took down the muskets—of which there were six—from their rests; examined the priming of those which were loaded, and loaded those which were not. She then got out a supply of powder and ball, which she put ready on the table, brought the axes out, that they might be at hand, examined the water-jars to ascertain whether the convicts had filled them as she had ordered, and then, when all was prepared for defence, she removed the lamp into the inner room, leaving the one we were in so dark, that the Indians could not, by looking through the chinks or loop-holes, discover where the occupants of the cabin might be. All these arrangements she made with the greatest coolness, and I could not help admiring her courage and self-possession.
“Is there any more to be done, Alexander?” said she, in a mild voice.
“Where is the dog?” replied I.
“Tied up in the tobacco-shed,” said she.
“Then there is no more to be done,” replied I; “the dog will give you notice of their coming, as they will first occupy the tobacco-shed as an advanced post.”
“Alexander, will you promise not to escape if I set you free?”
“Certainly not,” replied I. “You set me free for your own purposes, because you wish me to help to defend your property; and then, forsooth, when the Indians are beat off, you will chain me again.”
“No, no; that was not my feeling, as I sit here alive,” replied she; “but I was thinking that, if forced to retreat from the cabin, you would never be able to escape, and I never could save you; but they should hack me to pieces first.”
“Answer me one question,” said I. “In a time of peril like this, would you, as a conscientious person, think that you were justified in retaining in such fetters even a convict who had robbed you? And if you feel that you would not, on what grounds do you act in this way to a man whom you profess to love?—I leave it to your conscience.”