“Your fate? I don’t understand you.”
“If you leave me to return to the village alone, I shall meet death at the hands of the savages. They’ll kill me for breaking faith with them.”
“Then go with me to the camp of the whites——”
“And be shot as a spy!” Bradford completed.
“True!” Douglas said slowly and impressively. “Bradford, you are a British spy—an enemy of my country. I hate you—I despise you!”—The older man turned pale to the lips, but did not interrupt his companion.—“But you have befriended me; and I’ll not be guilty of the sin of ingratitude. You shan’t sacrifice your life for my liberty. Take my arms. I’m your prisoner.”
“Keep your arms,” Bradford returned hoarsely, his chest heaving, his white lips twitching. “Reload your gun. We may have to fight shoulder to shoulder. Let’s be prepared to sell our lives dearly.”
Silently Ross reloaded and primed his rifle. Then he said simply:
“I’m ready.”
“Come,” was the gruff response.