“But he would have broken his word to the Yankees,” urged Maggie in his defence.
“And perhaps they will break his neck,” answered Hemlock with a grunt. “Major Stovin told me that Hampton’s answer to his letter was that he could allow no interference from outside in his disposal of spies.”
“Morton is not a spy,” exclaimed Maggie indignantly.
“They will punish him all the same unless I give myself up,” said Hemlock, “and I mean to.”
“Oh, Hemlock, they would kill you.”
“Maybe, but Indian would save his friend.”
“He may get off when our men beat them.”
The Indian’s lip curled. “The owls are telling the eagles what to do. When the order came to the Indian bands not to fight but just watch, I left. We would have hung to their sides like wasps on a deer, and marked every mile they marched with deeds that would have caused widows to raise the funeral song from Champlain to the Ohio, but our arms are held fast.”
“You did not tell me how you came by this ring?” faltered Maggie, as she shyly tried it on her fingers.
“I asked him for a token, and he gave me that.”