"Then you stand between me and the table, Jenny," I said, "and hand the weapons to and fro. As soon as I have fired, if I should have occasion to fire, give me another weapon. One man here," I added, with a smile to encourage them, "is equal to five or six without." I then pushed back the shutter a little more, leaned the muzzle of the gun upon the sill, and looked out, careless of further concealment. Mr. Thornton's party, that is to say, the three white men, had stopped at the distance of about one hundred and fifty yards from the cabin, apparently to consult. But a moment after they turned to march forward again, and their eyes instantly fell upon me at the window.
[CHAPTER XXXVIII.]
I remained perfectly still and silent at the window of the hut, with my eyes steadily fixed upon the other party, believing that some embarrassment would be felt by all of them in regard to their next step, if I gave them no excuse for violence. I have often remarked that the most daring and unscrupulous men prefer provoking a quarrel step by step, to plunging into a conflict at once. I was not mistaken in this instance. Mr. Thornton and his son both stopped again when they saw me, and their consultation was renewed. They soon settled their plan, however, and did the best thing they could to attain their object, and throw the onus upon me. Without speaking one word, they advanced in a body towards the door of the cabin, and had come within twelve or fourteen paces of it, when, finding that action was absolutely necessary, I exclaimed,--
"Stand back, gentlemen. Do not advance any further."
"And why should we stand back, Sir Richard?" asked Robert Thornton, in a wonderfully calm tone.
"Simply, because if you advance a step further, I will shoot you," I replied with equal coolness.
"Upon what pretence, sir?" asked the elder Mr. Thornton, holding his son back. "We know that you are rather fond of shooting; but you generally contrive some excuse for it. Do you remember, sir, that you are in a civilized country? that the cabin in which you are is my property? and that I simply require to enter what I may call my own house?"
"It is not yours, ole tief," cried Jenny from behind. "It's not on your land, nor of your building."
"Sir," I replied, "I am quite aware of what I am about. The cabin may be yours, or may not, for aught I know; but of this I am assured, namely, that you and your son, and that worthy with the red hair, are now in the prosecution of an unlawful enterprise--"
"To wit?" said Robert Thornton, with a sneer.