“If we are spies,” then said Abdallah to Ezra, “so is your grandfather. If you give us up to those men,” and his eyes went toward the patrols, who were now abreast of them, “you must also give him up. And remember,” all the gentleness out of his voice and manner, “to give him up means death!”
He paused a moment and then said with a low laugh:
“Speak up; what shall it be? Shall we go or stay?”
And Ezra, his heart frozen with fear, stared first at the patrols and then at his grandfather. Then both hands went up and he gestured them stupidly away.
Instantly they turned and obeyed; within a moment the night had swallowed them up; but still the boy stood there as one turned to stone.
“To save my grandfather’s life, I have made myself a traitor to the cause,” he whispered to himself. “But I could not help it,” a sob swelling in his throat, “I could not help it.”
[CHAPTER XVII—TELLS OF A RIDE THROUGH THE WILDERNESS AND OF HOW TICONDEROGA’S GUNS BEGAN THEIR JOURNEY]
For two days Ezra Prentiss was burdened with the thought of what he had done. His friends wondered at his pale face and dejected manner; they questioned him, but could get nothing but evasive replies.
But one morning as the lad arose he determined to have done with it all.
“If I have misserved the colonies,” said he, “I am not fitted to be at liberty.”