“Mercy—mercy!” faltered the wretched man.
“What mercy did you have on my poor boy?” cried the colonel, fiercely. “Through your treachery, he was surrounded by five times the number of his own men; and, for aught you cared, instead of lying wounded here he might have been dead.”
“Mercy! I did not know,” gasped the miserable culprit.
“Mercy? Yes; you shall have the choice of your own trees on which to hang,” cried the colonel.
“No, no; mercy!” gasped the trembling man, dropping on his knees; “for my child’s sake—for Heaven’s sake—spare me!”
“Father!” cried Fred, excitedly.
“Silence, boy! I am their judge,” said Colonel Forrester, sternly. “Yes, man, for your child’s sake, I will spare you, in spite of your cowardly treachery.”
“Father, father!” cried the girl, excitedly; but he could not speak.
“Yes, I will spare you for your child’s sake,” said the colonel again. “There, little woman, I forgive you, for you are as brave and true-hearted as can be. I believe you—every word. Your little heart was moved to pity for the prisoner, as it has been moved to pity for my poor boy here, and for my men.”
He took her hand in his, and held it.