The slave foolishly entered the cabin with the food instead of thrusting it through the slot. Sevier, quick to see his chance, had snatched the fellow’s knife and inflicted a mortal wound and then sprang from the cabin to fall before Polcher’s pistols or rifle.
Sevier was as hungry for night as was Polcher. The two knives cached under his straw bed would soon permit him to dig out enough iron bars to squeeze his slender body through the opening. He must work softly so as not to alarm the guard outside. But should one of the guards discover him at his task the fellow must be quieted and secured. For such a contingency he thanked McGillivray for the blankets; at the edge of sunset he swiftly used his knife and turned one blanket into narrow strips and braided these into a tough rope.
When Polcher came and gave instructions to the guard Sevier hid the blanket-rope under the bed, fearing lest the tavern-keeper should venture to peep inside and discover signs of his handiwork. Early in the day, when Bonnie Kate’s name fell from the rascal’s lips, the borderer would have forgotten his plans to escape and would have been content to flash a blade through the bars and rip open the lying throat. Now he was calmer and would accept nothing but escape. Polcher could pay up later.
He stood at the window as if idly looking out on the dusk-littered opening, but in reality cutting deep into the window-sill to get beneath the end of a bar. The one guard was impatient to be relieved and was giving scant heed to the cabin. The knives were strong and keen and the task was far easier than Sevier had anticipated. He soon came to the end of one bar and, testing it gently, knew he could bend it back and upward with one push of his powerful arm. Leaving it, he assailed the next, estimating that he must loosen four.
The dogs had not yet been turned out, and, whereas he had originally planned to take his time and escape during the night, he now was determined to make the break while only the slave was on guard. He rejoiced that Polcher’s voice had carried the information to him. A slave would be much easier to deal with than a warrior. He would succumb to fear and refrain from attempting to give any alarm. Whether or not he should escape directly after receiving his supper would depend, however, on whether the dogs were loose or chained in the slave-quarters.
He worked feverishly and, having learned the knack of the job, made better time in cutting to the embedded end of the second bar. The sun by this time had waded deep into the forest and the film of shadow over the village blurred objects a few rods from the cabin. The guard began grumbling in a minor tone and walked a dozen feet from the cabin and stared impatiently toward the fires in front of the slave-quarters. The slaves were singing and dancing about the fires, and the warrior grew very peevish. The third bar was ready to be forced clear.
The guard stalked back in front of the window but never bothered to give it a glance. Turning abruptly and grumbling more forcefully, he retraced his steps and walked some distance from the cabin. Now Sevier caught the wild melody of a slave drawing near, singing, perhaps to bolster up his courage. The Indian called sharply to him. The man came on slowly, his song hushed. The Indian went to meet him and paused to warn him not to leave the cabin until relieved. The slave slowly came on, bearing a steaming dish in one hand, his other nervously feeling of the knife in his rawhide belt. The fourth bar was cut free at the lower end.
Standing to one side of the window, his strips of blanket in one hand, Sevier thrust the two knives into his belt to have a hand free for receiving the pan when it came through the slot. He heard the slave halt at the end of the cabin near the door. He thought he caught the murmur of voices. The discovery startled him, although it was possible the slave was muttering to himself. Then he stiffened and his jaws clamped together as there came a muffled groan and the thud of a heavy body falling to the ground.
His first thought was that Kirk Jackson, unable to break through the Creek and Cherokee lines, had doubled back and was to repay his debt by setting him free. A moment of silence, then the sound of a heavy body being dragged to the door. The next moment the window was blocked by a man’s head and shoulders.
“Sevier,” whispered a low voice. “Where are you?”