Welcome, daughter, said the Turtle.
22
Renegade
Raoul sat on the edge of his chair in Fort Crawford's assembly room, waiting for the guards to bring in Auguste. In a row beside him sat seven other militia officers, all of whom had been witnesses against the Indian leaders.
Raoul discovered all at once that he was trembling with anticipation.
Let today be the day—it was almost a prayer, but he did not know who would hear such a prayer—let them string him up today.
Let me see that damned mongrel die.
Today the commanders of the army that had defeated Black Hawk would tell the Sauk and Fox leaders their fate. The less important Indians were to be dealt with first, so Auguste would be coming in now.
Raoul watched avidly as Auguste walked in between two privates, his wrists handcuffed, carrying an iron ball at the end of a chain attached to his ankles. The sight of the mongrel in chains was more satisfying than a good swig of Old Kaintuck.