“Master Pathfinder,” called out the Scotchman, “a friend summons you to a parley.  Come freely to one of the loops; for you’ve nothing to fear so long as you are in converse with an officer of the 55th.”

“What is your will, Quartermaster? what is your will?  I know the 55th, and believe it to be a brave regiment; though I rather incline to the 60th as my favorite, and to the Delawares more than to either; but what would you have, Quartermaster?  It must be a pressing errand that brings you under the loops of a blockhouse at this hour of the night, with the sartainty of Killdeer being inside of it.”

“Oh, you’ll no’ harm a friend, Pathfinder, I’m certain; and that’s my security.  You’re a man of judgment, and have gained too great a name on this frontier for bravery to feel the necessity of foolhardiness to obtain a character.  You’ll very well understand, my good friend, there is as much credit to be gained by submitting gracefully, when resistance becomes impossible, as by obstinately holding out contrary to the rules of war.  The enemy is too strong for us, my brave comrade, and I come to counsel you to give up the block, on condition of being treated as a prisoner of war.”

“I thank you for this advice, Quartermaster, which is the more acceptable as it costs nothing; but I do not think it belongs to my gifts to yield a place like this while food and water last.”

“Well, I’d be the last, Pathfinder, to recommend anything against so brave a resolution, did I see the means of maintaining it.  But ye’ll remember that Master Cap has fallen.”

“Not he, not he!” roared the individual in question through another loop; “and so far from that, Lieutenant, he has risen to the height of this here fortification, and has no mind to put his head of hair into the hands of such barbers again, so long as he can help it.  I look upon this blockhouse as a circumstance, and have no mind to throw it away.”

“If that is a living voice,” returned Muir, “I am glad to hear it; for we all thought the man had fallen in the late fearful confusion.  But, Master Pathfinder, although ye’re enjoying the society of our friend Cap, —­ and a great pleasure do I know it to be, by the experience of two days and a night passed in a hole in the earth, —­ we’ve lost that of Sergeant Dunham, who has fallen, with all the brave men he led in the late expedition.  Lundie would have it so, though it would have been more discreet and becoming to send a commissioned officer in command.  Dunham was a brave man, notwithstanding, and shall have justice done his memory.  In short, we have all acted for the best, and that is as much as could be said in favor of Prince Eugene, the Duke of Marlborough, or the great Earl of Stair himself.”

“You’re wrong ag’in, Quartermaster, you’re wrong ag’in,” answered Pathfinder, resorting to a ruse to magnify his force.  “The Sergeant is safe in the block too, where one might say the whole family is collected.”