“‘It is my brother,’ said Red Feather. ‘He comes to join the talk. Let him in.’
“‘Open the gate,’ said McLeod.
“It was growing dark. I went with the guard to admit the brother of Red Feather. Dusk had fallen over the clearing. The sky was overcast; in half an hour it would be deep night, 122 the clearing one with the forest. But we opened the gate. A tall Indian stalked in. He was alone, and I knew him for the brother of Red Feather. I followed him to the shop, making sure first that the bar was in place.
“‘Let us have the white man,’ he said to McLeod. ‘Let the peace between us continue.’
“McLeod perceived the threat. He was not a rash man. He had no wish to provoke a conflict, but he had no thought of surrendering the refugee. As for me, my trust was in the stockade.
“‘I will talk with the white man,’ he said.
“The factor was gone for half an hour. He secreted Landley, inspected the defenses, gathered the women and children in the blockhouse, and returned to the council.
“‘The white man is not blood-guilty,’ he said, proudly. ‘I have promised him protection and he shall have it.’
“Again the helper came. ‘There is another knock at the gate,’ said he.
“‘Who is there?’ said McLeod.