"Listen to me, lad, and the sooner the better for your brother's sake, because I shall hold you here by force until having laid the case squarely before you. Would you have it told that one of the James family, on account of his own personal grief, allowed four hundred brave men to ride on to destruction? Would you have it said that rather than desert your brother you allowed the men of Williamsburg to face certain capture or death? Yet that is what must happen unless you are willing to do as I bid."
"But let me hear what is in your mind, for until then how can I answer the questions you ask!" and now I was grown more tractable, understanding that the old man knew better than I what was necessary both for the safety of Percy, and those who were riding behind us.
"There is but one horse here, and it would be unsafe to set out on foot. Having had many more years of experience than you, I should be more capable of following the Tories who have Percy in their keeping, and having come upon them, if there be a chance for his rescue, ought to be able to take better advantage of the opportunity than you. Now this is my plan: Mount the gray horse and ride back until you have met our friends; tell them what has occurred, and perchance Major James will send forward ten or twelve experienced woodsmen, who will help me in what seems little better than a forlorn hope. At all events, the gentlemen whom we both can trust implicitly will know the situation, and advise what we may do with honor. In addition to that you will be spared the pain of confessing in later days that you did what a James should never do—left your friends to ride blindly into such danger as has never before come upon men of the Carolinas."
It was not easy to follow this advice, as may well be imagined, and I spent fully five minutes trying to force myself to do it.
It seemed as if by going back when Percy had been forced to go forward, I was deserting him, and yet such seeming desertion was necessary to save, perhaps, the entire Williamsburg district.
"You will return as a brave lad should," the old man said finally, and, my heart well-nigh bursting with grief, I made reply by mounting the gray horse.
Not until then did I realize how much Gavin Witherspoon had taken upon himself.
The old man was voluntarily remaining behind on foot, surrounded by enemies, in the vain hope that he might by some fortunate accident rescue Percy, and I knew full well that the chances were as one in a thousand that it could not be done.
In other words, he was doing little less than delivering himself into the hands of the enemy and I—I was deserting him as well as my brother.
"I can't do it, Gavin," I said, making as if to dismount. "It is better you ride back."