"I exhausted all my ideas in arranging for a defence against the Abenakis, and now we must stand up like images, fighting until we are destroyed. Anything is better than tame surrender, when we know by the terrible experiences of others what will follow." "In that I am of your mind, Mark, dear; but I am asking if there isn't something else, which, as yet, we have neglected, that can be done. Our mothers depend on you, as do I, which is only natural, since you are the eldest, and should of right take your father's place." "It is just that, Sue dear, which causes me to be afraid of my own ideas. If I make a mistake, it may be fatal to you all, for you will follow my advice." "That is true, Mark, and yet you should not be timid because of it, for you are best fitted to act the part of leader, and we know full well you will only do that which seems safest." "Are you agreed that we cannot surrender?" and Mark asked the question in an angry tone, as if expecting she would refuse to view the situation in the same light he did. "Of course I am. Could I say otherwise after all the stories we have heard from the mainland?" "Then we must fight?" "Of course, and to the last. I would rather see mother and the children killed by musket-balls, than to have them fall unharmed into the hands of those who await us there," and she motioned toward the harbor island. "How long can we hold the stockade against such a force?" "Four and twenty hours, it may be, and a much shorter time if you, or Luke, or I should be killed early in the fight." "And we will hope that our fathers do not come back until all is over." "Ay, Sue dear, that is what we must hope, unless we would have them come in time to meet their death. Two more men on the stockade would not greatly prolong the struggle, and I fail to see how they, without other aid, could help us very much." "If it should be, Mark dear, that I am wounded again, will you see to it that the Indians do not take me prisoner?" "Ay, Sue, though the moment will be a terrible one when I turn my musket against you; but it shall be done." "And if you are left until the last you will see that the children are not taken alive?" "If I am left, Sue dear, it shall be as the last of our families on the island, for I believe death is more pleasant than can be life in the hands of such as those who are counting soon to hold us in their power." Then the two children kissed each other as if in a last farewell, and Mark, trying to assume a careless air, said, with a feeble attempt at a smile: "Since you were the last to awaken, it is no more than fair you should be among the first on duty. You, Luke, and I will stand guard alone until the attack is made, as we can count it will be this night, and then our mothers must charge the muskets. Remember, Sue dear, that I haven't yet despaired of holding the whole wicked crew in check. It doesn't seem possible that God would withhold His hand while we are being beaten."