And as if reminded by that last word, he turned to mademoiselle and spoke in French:
"Fly with me at once, mademoiselle! You will not stay to be at the mercy of a sneaking spy. See! I will call my red friends. Do not be afraid! They will carry you off, but I will be with you, and we will find horses and fly."
And without waiting for an answer he turned and imitated three times the call of a whippoorwill.
I knew what that meant—that in a moment the Osages would be upon us; and hardly had his first call left his lips before I too had turned and uttered the shrill whistle that always brought Fatima to my side.
As I knew, the last whippoorwill call had not died away when from the woods on the opposite side of the lake, silently, swiftly stole first one dark figure and then another, until at least a dozen savages, armed and painted, were bearing down upon us with the fleetness of deer. In a moment more they would be upon us, and neither Yorke's life nor mine would be worth the asking, and, what was far harder to contemplate, mademoiselle would be captive in their hands.
She stood for a moment petrified with horror at the sight of the swiftly advancing savages, and then she turned to me in an agony of entreaty.
"Oh, fly, fly at once!" she said, "you and your black man, before it is too late."
I turned to Yorke:
"Go as mademoiselle bids you; get your horse and fly."
Yorke tried to remonstrate, but I would not let him open his lips.