“Good God, marster, doan’ shoot any mo,’ we’se rowin’!”
“Then row!” thundered the master. “If they catch us I’ll kill you both!”
CHAPTER XXXVIII
“Father,” whispered Helen Preston, in the low voice of despair. “Father, don’t you know me?”
The old warrior who loved Dunvegan sat still as death in his arm chair, a happy smile on his face.
“Father, it is Helen. Oh, father! Don’t you know me?”
Slowly he opened his eyes with a look of incredulous disappointment.
“Oh! Helen, child, is it you? Why disturb me? I was with him—we had just won a great victory—the men were cheering old Traveler as he came down the battle line—”
“But, father, you had been quiet so long—I was afraid—I—”
He had sunk again into a stupor.