“It’s Nathaniel Hubbard!” burst involuntarily from my lips, and as I spoke his name he turned upon me in a fury.
Until that instant I do not think there was in his mind any thought to do other than beat us off until he could set the boat afloat; but, finding himself recognized, it seemed necessary for his own safety that our mouths should be closed forever.
Stooping suddenly, he seized something from the bottom of the craft, and when he stood erect once more I saw in each of his hands a pistol.
“Look out for yourself!” I cried, fearing lest Alec had not observed the weapons, and even as I shouted there was a blinding flash; I could feel the heat of the burning powder, and wondered that no pain followed it.
Hubbard had fired point blank at me, within less than ten feet distance, and yet missed the target.
With a cry of rage he turned upon Alec, but before he could press the trigger of his pistol I leaped upon his back.
The weapon was discharged; but the bullet buried itself in the sand, and the traitor was at our mercy, although not yet conquered.
He fought like a wild man, and I could not wonder at his fury, for more than his life was at stake. Even though his neighbors did not kill him outright, as indeed they had good cause, he was disgraced forever; and there would be nothing left for him save to take refuge among those to whom he had sold himself, which might not be a pleasant thing, because he who buys a traitor can have no great respect or love for him.
During five minutes or more it was a serious question as to who would come off victorious, and then suddenly his strength seemed to desert him; he collapsed, so to speak, even while putting forth his greatest strength, and from that instant it was as if we had no more than a child in our grasp.
“We’ll tie his hands and feet, and bundle him into his own boat,” Alec said, whipping out his pocket-knife and cutting the small hempen cable, or painter. “It will be too much of a job to carry the scoundrel from here to the village!”