“And how is the siege of the house to end?” asked Menzies. “Do you expect the Indians to withdraw, or do you count on aid arriving?”
“I admit there is no chance of either.” I replied. “My idea is this. The inside of the inclosure is already deep under a frozen drift, and from the look of the weather there will be more snow in plenty within a few hours. We will excavate a tunnel beneath it, starting from one of the little windows that give air to the cellar, and leading to some part of the south stockade. Then in a day or two, when the night is dark and other conditions favorable, what is to prevent us from making our escape unseen to the forest, and by quick traveling gain Fort York?”
“The Indians would break into the tunnel while prowling about,” said Dr. Knapp.
“We won’t make it high enough for that.” I replied stoutly, “and, besides, the crust will be too hard.”
“It’s a sound plan!” exclaimed Captain Rudstone.
“Ay, I’m of the same mind,” added Carteret. “It’s well worth the trying. And it’s that or a bloody massacre—there are no two ways about it.”
“It seems a cowardly thing,” grumbled Menzies, “to yield the redskins all but this house, and then slink away from that under cover of darkness and by a trick. A rich lot of the company’s property will fall into their hands!”
“True enough,” said I bitterly, “and the old flag-will be hauled down for the first time in the records! But consider, sir; there is nothing else to be done! Carteret has given you the gist at the matter. And think of the women!”
The blunt old Scotchman was touched in a tender spot; his face softened.
“Ay, my poor wife!” he said, with a sigh. “And Miss Hatherton! They must not fall into the power of these red devils—or of Cuthbert Mackenzie. It’s a level head you have on your shoulders, Denzil. I fear I spoke hastily—”