Morgan looked round at the others.
“There’s no harm in telling him,” he said.
“Not a bit. Tell him.”
Morgan coughed as if to clear his throat, and he raised the bucket and threw a few drops from the bottom on the glistening heap.
“You see, Master George,” he said, “we’re afraid that we’re getting close to the time when the Indians will quite get the better of us, and we shall be beaten.”
“Englishmen are never beaten,” I said, looking round proudly.
“Ah, that’s only a bit of brag, Master George,” said Morgan, quietly. “That’s what we all say, and perhaps we never are in spirit, but our bodies aren’t much stronger than other men’s bodies, and there are times when the enemy gets too strong for us. I’ve been beaten many a time, and I’ve beat many a time. This is one of the times when I’ve been beat.”
“But we are not beaten yet,” I said, excitedly. “When the Indians come and attack we shall drive them off.”
“If we can, my lad—if we can. Eh, my lads?”
“Yes, yes,” came in a loud murmur.