"We are on the war-path at present, my friend," he said very quietly. "You are suspected of one of the most horrible crimes that felon ever perpetrated, that of procuring the abduction of Miss St. Clair and handing her over to savages."
"As Heaven is above us," cried Peter, "I am guiltless of that!"
"Hush!" roared Roland, "why take the sacred name of Heaven within your vile lips. Were you not about to die, I would strike you where you stand."
"To die, Mr. Roland? You--you--you surely don't mean--"
Roland placed a whistle to his lips, and its sound brought six stern men to his side.
"Bind that man's hands behind his back and hang him to yonder tree," was the order.
In two minutes' time the man was pinioned and the noose dangling over his head.
As he stood there, arrayed but in shirt and trousers, pale and trembling, with the cold sweat on his brow, it would have been difficult even to imagine a more distressing and pitiable sight.
His teeth chattered in his head, and he swayed about as if every moment about to fall.
A man advanced, and was about to place the noose around his neck when: