"See what a fop this brother of mine learned to be in France. His very points must be tagged with gold, and, on my life, the tags are tipped with emerald!"
"Ay," said Ralph, coolly, "I got them of a French Seigneur without his permission, and they have been cursed unlucky so far. The first tag I lost in the forest near St. Gabriel's and could never find again, and the point with the other tag joined to it was stolen by a Patuxent brave while I was on a mission,—the sacrilegious savage! Since then for safe keeping I have carried this in the inner pocket of my jerkin."
"Cease talking of your jewelled points and make haste," cried Claiborne, testily. "Speed is the main thing. To be discovered is to be balked, if not defeated."
"Push off there in the first boat if you are ready! Shall I go in her, Captain Ingle?"
"Ay, and command her crew. Wait for us at the shore, and we'll rush the stockade together."
"But how to mount the bluff?"
"There is a road, and I suppose it was made to be walked on."
"Ay, but it leads to the strongest fortified of the gates."
"You are a monstrous clever man, Master Claiborne; but for all that, Dick Ingle knows more tricks than ever a juggler taught you."
"That means I am to have no confidences."