Ewen was silent, but reckoned over that now there were but thirty days to run until the 26th of April, when the stipulated year would expire.
"Yes, comrade, just thirty days," said Wooden-leg, with an affirmative nod, divining the thoughts of Ewen; "and then I shall be off, bag and baggage, if my friends come."
"If not?"
"Then I shall remain where I am."
"The Lord forbid!" thought Ewen; "but I can apply to the sheriff."
"Death and fury! Thunder and blazes! I should like to see the rascal of a sheriff who would dare to meddle with me!" growled the old fellow, as his one eye shot fire, and, limping away, he ascended the stairs grumbling and swearing, leaving poor Ewen terrified even to think, on finding that his thoughts, although only half conceived, were at once divined and responded to by this strange inmate of his house.
"His friends," thought Ewen, "who may they be?"
Three heavy knocks rang on the floor overhead, as a reply.
It was the wooden leg of the Cherokee invader.