“Well I rejoice to hear it, for we had certainly counted the Sergeant among the slain.  If pretty Mabel is in the block still, let her not delay an instant, for heaven’s sake, in quitting it, for the enemy is about to put it to the trial by fire.  Ye know the potency of that dread element, and will be acting more like the discreet and experienced warrior ye’re universally allowed to be, in yielding a place you canna’ defend, than in drawing down ruin on yourself and companions.”

“I know the potency of fire, as you call it, Quartermaster; and am not to be told, at this late hour, that it can be used for something else besides cooking a dinner.  But I make no doubt you’ve heard of the potency of Killdeer, and the man who attempts to lay a pile of brush against these logs will get a taste of his power.  As for arrows, it is not in their gift to set this building on fire, for we’ve no shingles on our roof, but good solid logs and green bark, and plenty of water besides.  The roof is so flat, too, as you know yourself, Quartermaster, that we can walk on it, and so no danger on that score while water lasts.  I’m peaceable enough if let alone; but he who endivors to burn this block over my head will find the fire squinched in his own blood.”

“This is idle and romantic talk, Pathfinder, and ye’ll no maintain it yourself when ye come to meditate on the realities.  I hope ye’ll no’ gainsay the loyalty or the courage of the 55th, and I feel convinced that a council of war would decide on the propriety of a surrender forthwith.  Na, na, Pathfinder, foolhardiness is na mair like the bravery o’ Wallace or Bruce than Albany on the Hudson is like the old town of Edinbro’.”

“As each of us seems to have made up his mind, Quartermaster, more words are useless.  If the riptyles near you are disposed to set about their hellish job, let them begin at once.  They can burn wood, and I’ll burn powder.  If I were an Indian at the stake, I suppose I could brag as well as the rest of them; but, my gifts and natur’ being both white, my turn is rather for doing than talking.  You’ve said quite enough, considering you carry the king’s commission; and should we all be consumed, none of us will bear you any malice.”

“Pathfinder, ye’ll no’ be exposing Mabel, pretty Mabel Dunham, to sic’ a calamity!”

“Mabel Dunham is by the side of her wounded father, and God will care for the safety of a pious child.  Not a hair of her head shall fall, while my arm and sight remain true; and though you may trust the Mingos, Master Muir, I put no faith in them.  You’ve a knavish Tuscarora in your company there, who has art and malice enough to spoil the character of any tribe with which he consorts, though he found the Mingos ready ruined to his hands, I fear.  But enough said; now let each party go to the use of his means and his gifts.”