“No,” I said, returning the glass. “I can’t see him.”
“But you could make out his horse?”
“Yes, plainly.”
“Gil,” said Brace, after a pause, “our hour must be up; and we could act at once if they came out. But there is something wrong.”
“I hope not.”
“And I; but I’m afraid. Is your pistol charged?”
“No,” I said.
“Then load, man, load. Heaven knows I don’t want to destroy life; but we are fighting for our queen and country, and for the thousands of women and children who may soon be at the mercy of these men.”
I hastily dragged my cartouche-box round, and charged my pistol, and when this was done, looked at Brace, as if asking for further commands.
“Is your sword sharp?”