Lucius straightened himself up and once more locked his fingers behind his back. ‘Hold up, Grizzly!’ he said. ‘Don’t let them think that you’re afraid.’
Ephraim bent his lank body and kissed Lucius on the cheek.
‘Good-bye, Luce,’ he said. ‘Maybe God’ll let me meet ye by-and-by.’
He raised his head, and swift as lightning a change came over his face, and a flame of joy sparkled in his eyes as he stared over the heads of the firing party at the woods beyond them.
Plowes had reached his men. ‘‘Shun!’ he called. ‘At thirty paces—prepare to fire a volley! Ready!’
‘Ef I kin on’y gain an ounce of time,’ muttered the Grizzly, with a sob in his throat.—‘Hold on!’ he shouted suddenly. ‘I can’t abear it. Wait till I blind our eyes.’
‘Blind ’em, then, and be quick about it,’ returned Plowes sullenly; for he was getting heartily sick of the job he had taken in hand.
‘I’ll not have my eyes bound,’ declared Lucius, pushing Ephraim’s hand away.
‘It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of ye,’ stammered Ephraim, scarcely able to speak, and Lucius submitted.
‘Now then, sharp with your own,’ called Plowes.