“In some mysterious way,” Gato explained, “they have outwitted us. Our plan was to break them up by using the old traitor Vancouver, but they evidently discovered his treachery, and I have just learned that they sent him out as our first offering to the Black Face, while letting him think that he was going to betray them to us.”
“I suppose,” said the king, “that he is as good as another for the sacrifice. That will satisfy the people for a time, but he is the first and the last that we’ll get from that crowd without bloody work, and I don’t wish my subjects to be killed.”
He paused, and the others waited. Beela’s breathing had grown quick; there was a slight quiver in her hand.
The king went on:
“Mason evidently suspects that the people taken out of the valley will not be sent away, and so he is holding them together. No doubt they have armed themselves, and are ready to fight. Mason will be in no hurry to precipitate an issue with us, for they can subsist indefinitely where they are, we can’t strengthen our position against them, and time, he reasons, may bring me to liberate them in a body.”
It was impossible not to recognize the kindliness and benevolence in the king’s voice and words.
“May I speak, Sire?”
“Yes, Gato.”
“I fear that Vancouver is going mad.”
The king looked his dismay.