"Four and twenty hours, it may be, and a much shorter time if you, or Luke, or I should be killed early in the fight."
"And we will hope that our fathers do not come back until all is over."
"Ay, Sue dear, that is what we must hope, unless we would have them come in time to meet their death. Two more men on the stockade would not greatly prolong the struggle, and I fail to see how they, without other aid, could help us very much."
"If it should be, Mark dear, that I am wounded again, will you see to it that the Indians do not take me prisoner?"
"Ay, Sue, though the moment will be a terrible one when I turn my musket against you; but it shall be done."
"And if you are left until the last you will see that the children are not taken alive?"
"If I am left, Sue dear, it shall be as the last of our families on the island, for I believe death is more pleasant than can be life in the hands of such as those who are counting soon to hold us in their power."
Then the two children kissed each other as if in a last farewell, and Mark, trying to assume a careless air, said, with a feeble attempt at a smile:
"Since you were the last to awaken, it is no more than fair you should be among the first on duty. You, Luke, and I will stand guard alone until the attack is made, as we can count it will be this night, and then our mothers must charge the muskets. Remember, Sue dear, that I haven't yet despaired of holding the whole wicked crew in check. It doesn't seem possible that God would withhold His hand while we are being beaten."
"And yet it has been that many people in this country, whose cause was as just as ours, have been overcome by the same merciless foe who await us."