“And you have seen him, General?”
“I have.”
“Did he send for you?”
“No; I knew nothing of his capture, till I went among the prisoners, yesterday evening. I recognized him instantly, although he has changed much since the Tippecanoe campaign. Evidently he is not in good health. He’s emaciated, and his hair is white as snow. But he’s the same cool, self-reliant villain.”
Harrison uttered this last sentence, in a tone of intense and bitter hatred. Ross Douglas winced. Instantly he realized what Bradford’s fate was likely to be. But hiding his feelings as well as he could, the young man inquired:
“Did you talk with him, General Harrison?”
“A little. I called him by name. He didn’t attempt to conceal his identity. He asked about you; and when I informed him you were with Colonel Dudley, in the battle across the river, and hadn’t returned to the fort with the survivors, he groaned aloud. When he had recovered his equanimity, he exacted from me a promise that, should you return, I would send you to him. For some reason, Douglas, that scoundrel is interested in your welfare—for some reason he likes you very much. His actions toward you in the past, his agitation about your welfare yesterday, prove it.”
For a moment Ross stood with downcast eyes and said nothing. Then suddenly looking up, he inquired with a show of emotion:
“He didn’t ask for mercy at your hands, General?”