Henry's thrill of horror came again. Mr. Pennypacker lived at Wareville, the home of his own family and Paul's. What had happened? There was the expedition of the harelipped Bird with his powerful force and with cannon! Could it be possible that he had swept Wareville away and that the teacher had been given to the Indians for sacrifice? A terrible anger seized him and Shif'less Sol, by his side, was swayed by the same emotion. "It is he, Sol! It is he!" he whispered in intense excitement. "Yes, Henry," replied the shiftless one, "it's the teacher." "Do you think his presence here means Wareville has been destroyed by Bird?" "I'm hopin' that it doesn't, Henry." Shif'less Sol spoke steadily, but Henry could read the fear in his mind, and the reply made his own fears all the stronger. "They are going to sacrifice that good old man, Sol," he said. "They mean to do it, but people sometimes mean to do things that they don't do." They remained in silence until Tom returned with Paul, who was excited greatly when he learned that Mr. Pennypacker was there a prisoner. "Lie perfectly still, all of you, until the time comes," said Henry. "We've got to save him, and we can only do it by means of a surprise and a rush." The Indians and their prisoner were now not more than a hundred yards away, having come into the center of the open circle used for the sacrifice, and they stood there a little while talking. Mr. Pennypacker's arms were bound, but he held himself erect. His face was turned toward the South, his home, and it seemed to Henry and Paul--although it was fancy, the distance being too great to see--that his expression was rapt and noble as if he already saw beyond this life into the future. They loved and respected him. Paul had been his favorite pupil, and now tears came into the eyes of the boy as he watched. The old man certainly had seen the stakes, and doubtless he had surmised their purpose. "What's your plan, Henry?" whispered Shif'less Sol. "I think they're going to eat. Probably they've been rowing all the morning and are tired and hungry. They mean after that to go ahead with their main purpose, but we'll take 'em while they're eating. I hate to fire on anybody from ambush, but it's got to be done. There's no other way. We'll all lie close together here, and when the time comes to fire, I'll give the word." The Indians sat on the ground after their fashion and began to eat cold food. Apparently they paid little attention to their prisoner, who stood near, and to whom they offered nothing. Why should he eat? He would never be hungry again. Nor need they watch him closely now. They had left a man with each of the boats, and even if he should run he could not escape them on the island. Henry and Paul saw Mr. Pennypacker walk forward a few steps and look intently at the posts. Then he bowed his gray head and stood quite still. Both believed that he was praying. Water again rose in Paul's eyes and Henry's too were damp.