"Can you not understand this, sir? Do you think it possible for these blood-drunk ruffians to roam the Mohawk and Sacandaga valleys and respect you and yours just because you say you are neutral? Turn loose a pack of famished panthers in a common pasture and mark your sheep with your device and see how many are alive at daybreak!"
"Dammy, sir!" cried Sir Lupus, "the enemy are led by British gentlemen."
"Who doubtless will keep their own cuffs clean; it were shame to doubt it! But if the Mohawks march with them there'll be a bloody page in Tryon County annals."
"The Mohawks will not join!" he said, violently. "Has not Schuyler held a council-fire and talked with belts to the entire confederacy?"
"The confederacy returned no belts," I said, "and the Mohawks were not present."
"Kirkland saw Brant," he persisted, obstinately.
"Yes, and sent a secret report to Albany. If there had been good news in that report, you Tryon County men had heard it long since, Sir Lupus."
"With whom have you been talking, sir?" he sneered, removing his pipe from his yellow teeth.
"With one of your tenants yesterday, a certain Christian Schell, lately returned with Stoner's scout."
"And what did Stoner's men see in the northwest?" he demanded, contemptuously.