“You dared to think we would stoop to such a thing!” cried Colina.

The general animosity that he felt like a wall around him made Ambrose defiant.

“I said they thought so,” he retorted.  “I harangued them until my throat was sore.  I couldn’t hold them, and I hid myself and came with them, thinking perhaps I could help you.”

“How did they come?” asked Strange smoothly.

“In my boat that they seized,” said Ambrose.

“It all comes back to you whichever way you trace it,” cried Gaviller.  “If you had not attacked us yesterday, they would never have dared to-day!  You have brought us to this!  I hope you’re satisfied.  I warned you what would happen as a result of your tampering with the natives.  If we’re all murdered it will be on your head!”

“On the contrary, if we’re murdered it will be because they found whiskey in your store,” retorted Ambrose.

“Impossible!” cried Gaviller and Strange together.

Ambrose laid a hand on Tole’s shoulder.  “This man saw it on the counter,” he said.  “I sent him to the store to get guns for us both.  It had no business to be there, as you all know.”

“They must have brought it with them,” said Strange.  “I locked the store myself.”

“Of course they brought it,” said Gaviller.

“Not much use to discuss that point,” said Ambrose curtly.  “They have it, and it has robbed them of the last vestiges of manhood.  They’re nothing but brutes now.”

The old man rose.  “Silence!” he cried quaveringly.  “You are insolent!  By your light-mindedness and vanity you have raised a storm that no man can see the end of!  You have plunged us into the horrors of Indian warfare after thirty years’ peace!  How dare you come here and attempt to hector us!  Silence, I say, and keep your place!”

“Father,” murmured Colina remonstratingly.  “You must save your strength.”

He shook her off impatiently.  “Must I submit to be bearded in my own house by this scamp, this fire-brand, this destroyer?”

Ambrose could not bandy words with this wreck of a strong man.  He signed to Tole, and they went outside and joined Macfarlane.

The three of them waited in the doorway in a kind of armed truce, smoking and watching the Indians across the square.  At any moment they expected to see the yelling demons turn against the house.

By and by Ambrose heard the library door open.  The light inside had been put out again for greater safety.

He heard Colina come out, and go the other way in the passage.  He knew her by the rustle of her skirts.  She went up-stairs on some errand.

His heart leaped up.  He could no longer deceive himself with the fancy that he had ceased to love her.  Not with death staring them both in the face.  He quietly made his way back into the house to intercept her on her return.

When he heard her coming he whispered her name.  Here in the middle of the house it was totally dark.