"I swear it!" cried Mount, flinging up his great arm. "He will return."
"To doubt it is to doubt God's grace, child. He will return," said Cade Renard.
She looked at me, at Mount, at the Weasel, then at the torrent of dusty riflemen steadily passing without a break.
"If he—he must go—" she began. Her voice failed; she caught my hands and kissed them.
"For our honour—go!" she gasped. "Michael! Michael! Come back to me—"
"Truly, dear heart—truly! truly!"
"Ho! Cardigan!" rang out a voice like a pistol-shot from the passing ranks.
Through my tear-dimmed eyes I saw Cresap, sword shining in his hand.
"We come," cried Mount, shaking his rifle towards the rising sun; "death to the Red Beast!"
"Death to the Beast!" shouted Cresap, shaking his shining sword.