Hayward had started to his feet, and his eyes met those of Branch. There was lightning in that gaze, but it was met with equal sternness.
"Do you object to Captain Branch?" asked Price.
"Yes. I object to anyone who is so great a coward as to strike a wounded, senseless man, merely to revenge himself upon a woman!"
"What do you mean?" asked Price.
"I will tell you. This woman prisoner hates Branch, and I do not wonder. She taunts him, and what woman of spirit would not? He would strike her, if he dare, and because he dare not, he took the noble method of revenge, by striking me in the face with his sword-scabbard, when I was senseless and tied on my horse. He thought she would suffer, because I did—the base, cowardly cur."
"Of this I knew nothing. Is it true, Captain Branch?" asked Price.
"It is not true, but false as hell, and Hayward knows it is false?" replied Branch, in a rage.
"Well, with this I have nothing to do. Good night, Captain Hayward. If you should make up your mind to accept my terms, let me hear from you."
Price left the tent with Branch.
"Let us sleep, friends, and prepare for to-morrow. God knows what it will bring for us. But still, let us hope. I am glad we go to Springfield."