“Attempt to drive us from these hills, and you’ll think us double the number I named,” he threatened.
“No threats, boy, for I do not like to hear them.”
“One hears many things not pleasant, chief,” was the retort. “But we must not quarrel. Will you become my ally?”
“That I must think over; to-morrow at this hour meet me here, and you shall know whether you can remain in these hills or must leave.”
“No treachery, mind you, old man!”
“I am no snake in the grass, boy; to-morrow, at this time, remember. I will to-night hold council with White Slayer and his chiefs.”
The outlaw bowed, kissed his hand gallantly to Pearl, sprang into his saddle, and dashed down the glen, while the hermit and White Slayer turned and walked up the gorge, leaving the girl standing in the spot where the meeting had taken place.