"None who can give us shelter," I replied, whereupon the fellow fell silent for an instant, and then suddenly wheeling me about with a force that caused me to wince with pain, asked abruptly:
"When last did you see Horry Sims?"
I know full well that a gentleman should never tell a lie, and have ever contended that under ordinary circumstances it is not only wicked, but vile to do so. In this case, however, I knew it would cost Pierre and me our liberty, perhaps our lives, if we held only to the truth, therefore I replied as if striving to awaken memories:
"I believe it was on the morning the Britishers seized the horses of the Hamilton plantation. I saw him on the road at that time."
"And you can make no guess as to where he may be now?"
"Why should we waste our time making such foolish guesses as that?" Pierre demanded as if suddenly grown angry. "Horry Sims, as you well know, is no friend either to Fitz Hamilton or me, although so far as I am concerned he has no reason to be an enemy; but because he and Fitz are at swords' points over politics, do I believe I should side with him whom I call my friend."
"Meaning that you deny knowing about where Horry may be now?" Abel Hunt cried in a threatening tone, and Pierre, straightening himself up to show that he was not afraid of the bully, replied in that silky tone of his:
"Meaning to say that that is what I would have you understand, Master Abel Hunt."
Surely in making such answer Pierre escaped telling a downright lie, for he spoke only the truth.
Then, striving to show myself somewhat at ease in the company of this fellow with whom I had never previously associated, I asked him in turn what he was doing, and where he counted on spending the night.