My face crimsoned as I realized that Abraham and I had shown ourselves simples by thus speaking as if it was within our power to do as we pleased. The odds were strongly in favor of Luther’s laying us by the heels before we were able to raise a hand against him, for by a single word he could send a thousand men scurrying after us, whereas we did not dare even to show our faces. I tried to look in another direction, for the sight of him caused my stomach to revolt; but despite my will I was forced to watch his every movement, and surely never was punishment greater than mine at this moment. My brain was in a whirl, and it would not have been surprising if, forgetting all else, I had rushed out to throttle him. If at that moment my hands had been around his throat, not all the soldiers in the British army could have torn them away until the breath had been choked from his worthless carcass. It seemed to me as if we had been gazing at that Tory a full hour before there came into my mind the thought of Seth Hartley, and the danger in which he stood. During all this while no sound, other than might have been made by the sailors or marines as they went here and there like children at play, had come to our ears, and most like it was this absence of danger signals which allowed us to forget momentarily the man who was staking his life to aid our comrade. However, even then I did not bestow much thought upon the friendly Britisher who might within a short time be dangling from the yard-arm of the Good Hope, so intent was I, despite my wish, upon watching Luther Stedman. From his movements I fancied he was striving to persuade some of the sailors to take him off to the ship, and I knew full well that his desire to be there was only that he might jibe Abel Grant when the poor fellow was unable to make reply or reprisals. Now and then one of the Britishers would shake his head decidedly, as if in answer to an entreaty from Luther. Once when an officer came down to be taken on board, the Tory cur appealed to him, and I could have hugged the red-coated, gilt-laced servant of the king, when I saw him shake off impatiently the miserable leech that would have fawned upon him. It is impossible for me to say how long Luther Stedman thus strove to gain a passage to the ship; it seemed as if more than an hour had passed before he apparently gave up all hope of succeeding, and then, to my mingled surprise and dismay, he lounged along the beach in our direction as if having decided to consort no longer with those whom he was so eager to call friends. I know not into whose mind the idea first came; but it was to me as if I had turned it over and over an hundred times, when Abraham clutched me by the arm, his face crimsoned with passion, as he whispered: “If that whelp comes this way, an’ gives me but half a chance, I’ll stake my life on serving him out!”