“He is after revenge—and Miss Hatherton,” the captain went on. “And to my mind, it is a toss up which will make the girl the happier—Mackenzie or Hawke.”
I turned on him fiercely, and I could have struck him with pleasure; he seemed to take a malicious delight in probing my heart wound.
“Is this a time to talk of such things?” I cried. “I wish to hear none of it, Captain Rudstone. Miss Hatherton is nothing to me!”
The captain laughed—a low, sneering laugh—and just then an Indian bullet sang between us.
“A close shave!” he muttered, as he strode off to his loophole.
I turned to mine, and it partly relieved my feelings to get a shot at a feathered scalp-lock, that was bobbing behind a tuft of bushes twenty feet away. I aimed true, and with a convulsive leap a warrior fell sprawling in the open.
My success stirred the savages up a little, drawing a chorus of vengeful whoops, and a straggling shower of lead that pelted the stockade like hail.
Then the fire ceased almost entirely, ami after waiting and watching for five minutes, I concluded to leave my post temporarily and have a look about the fort.