“I cannot go with you,” he said in a voice of despair.
“Why? You are well of your hurt, and you can run a mile or two if we are followed. Come, my arm will help you.”
“Hemlock, had you come a fortnight ago I would have jumped at your call: I cannot tonight, for I have given my word of honor not to escape. I am a prisoner on parole.”
“Honor! Did these Americans treat you as men of honor, when they put the rope round your neck? Your promise is nothing. Come!”
“I cannot, Hemlock. Let them be what they may, it shall never be said that a British officer broke his word. Leave me; get away at once, or you may be caught.”
“I will not leave without you. Think of the fair doe that sorrows in secret by the Chateaugay for you and sought me out to bring you. Come, you shall be with her before another sun has set.”
Morton was puzzled by this speech, but was too anxious concerning Hemlock’s safety to delay by asking what it meant.
“Save yourself, Hemlock; the patrol will be round soon, and if you are discovered you are lost.”
“I fear not: they cannot take me alive.”
“For my sake, then, go; I will not leave, I will keep the promise I have given. Consider this my friend, if you are found here it is death to me as well as you. Go.”