In a mild but somehow penetrating voice the Sangamon man said, "I'll tell you why this is wrong, sir, if you'll allow me."
The man's politeness was infuriating. Raoul turned to him, letting the pistol fall to his side.
"Go on, Captain. Preach to me."
"If you had a white prisoner at your mercy, you would not shoot him because he refused to betray his comrades. You would think it honorable in him to answer your questions with silence. But this red man is a human being with the same God-given right to his life that you and I have."
Raoul realized all at once that the lean captain's backwoods manner of speaking had fallen away like an unneeded cloak. He sounded like a lawyer or a minister.
"I was a prisoner of the Potawatomi for two years. I can tell you from experience they're not human at all."
How angry Pierre had been when Raoul had said Indians were animals. But it was true.
"They treated you badly? Made a slave of you?"
"Damned right."
The young captain looked calmly at Raoul. "If to hold slaves and treat them badly marks a man as less than human, then you must so brand every wealthy white man in the Southern states."