“I can’t say I’m glad to see ye,” the scout returned, gazing steadily in the eye of the other; “but if any person on the face o’ the earth’s got to be cussed by the sight o’ yer miserable face, why, it may as well be Davy Barring as anybody.” He bit his lip, to check the words which would have followed, while the other ground his teeth with rage. “That’s bold talk for a man what’s got to die to-morrow!” the scoundrel muttered. “You may forget that yer in my hands now, and ye shall die like a dog? You’ve took too many liberties with me and mine for me to forget it. The day of reckonin’ has now come, and we will bring all these things out right.” He paused to note the effect of his words, but the scout calmly replied: “It may be Davy Barring dies to-morrow; thar’s certain about life _but_ death, and maybe my time has come. I do not fear death, Bill Ashbey; I kin meet it if necessary; can you say the same?” “You’d better tell that to someone else,” returned the renegade, endeavouring to assume a careless tone. “You needn’t tell Bill Ashbey you ain’t afraid to die, for I know better.” “You kin only judge me by yourself,” said David, in a calm voice. “If ye’re not ready to meet yer Maker, I advise you, as a friend would, if ye had any friends, to git ready. Maybe that I shall die to-morrow, or it may be not; but, I can tell you, Bill Ashbey, I shall see your body a corpse long afore my own hour comes. _I know that_—mind you!” The renegade turned pale, and shivered with a mortal terror. “So-ho!” he exclaimed, with an attempt at bravado; “you think to scare me, old chap. To try your skill, suppose I have your head cut off at once; it will save the trouble of roastin’ ye, and a host of other inconveniences.” “If you are ready to die, I’ll not object,” was the calm reply. “It were enough for one life to rid the earth of such a cuss as you!” Ashbey gazed upon the man for a few moments in silence, then turned to Alfred. Bending upon the young man a look of contempt, he said: “So, young puppy-face, you came out here, eh? Wal, I don’t wonder. I s’pose ye got so scart ye run any way. But ye’ll make a good roastin’-piece, and my braves will like the fun o’ toastin’ yer lamb’s carcass!” “You can roast me if you choose,” the young man calmly replied; “but I think your braves will remember me for some time to come.” “Of course, we’re glad to say ye did somethin’ afore ye died; but we don’t intend ye’ll ever harm us any more. But it seems you two weren’t alone; I hear thar’s another what run for’t.” He waited some moments before either spoke. His manner gave them the assurance that Charles was still at large, and unharmed.