“Are you the son of that Daniel Dobbins who has trafficked on the lake?”
It was evident that this soldier, whose face I could not see because of the coat-collar which covered it, had recognized me, and I replied with all the boldness it was possible to assume:—
“I am, sir, and therefore you may know of a certainty from whence we come.”
It would have been better had I been less talkative, for now both Alec and I understood that the Britisher’s suspicions were aroused.
“Where is your father?” he asked sharply.
I would have given much had I been able to reply promptly; but with his question there came into my mind the thought that I might unwittingly betray an important secret, and for the instant speech was well-nigh impossible. Then, after that unfortunate hesitation, I said:—
“I do not know, sir.”
“Is he not at home?”
“I am unable to say, sir.”
“Why? Was he not at home when you left?”