"You know me well, Master George. Well, despite myself, I don't like the look of this man, though he is handsome enough. He has a terrible expression, and you know it takes something to move me. Still, I feel an invincible repugnance for this man, whom I never saw before. The dogs were like myself; I had the greatest difficulty to prevent them tearing him to pieces. Nadeje was like a mad creature; she wanted to strangle him. Do you know, Master George, dogs never make a mistake?"
"A very good thing," said George Clinton; "but the man is wounded, likely to die. We are bound to succour him."
"I know it, and have done so. I have seen to him as I would to myself or one of my dogs. Still, Master George, mark my words, it is a bitter foe you shelter under your roof."
"It may be so, but we must do our duty."
"As you please. Still I shall watch him."
"Where is he?"
"Just under yonder cluster of oaks, which you see from here. It was after dressing his wound I fired a shot on chance."
"Did he say nothing?" asked George.
"He is still quite insensible."
"Let us join him, and if the dogs are so ill-disposed towards the stranger, watch them carefully."