“It strikes me that such a party as we can muster might, possibly effect very much in the way of holding John Butler’s wolves to the strict letter of the surrender. We number six able-bodied men and lads. Why should we not go forth to do whatsoever we may for those who are in distress? The women need no assistance in caring for Samuel Rogers and Oscar Stephenson, and if we stay here, it is simply to suck our paws in the sun, like bears who have laid in sufficient of fat long before it is time to den up.” “If I knew what we might do, lad, an answer to your question could be better given. Tell us what may be in your mind.” “That we set out as soon as may be, not showing ourselves boldly to court an encounter with those who are stronger, but in the effort to give assistance where it may be needed. I dare venture to say work will be found for our hands, at the same time that we hold ourselves in prudence, remembering that those whom we leave behind us in the cave may have the first claim upon our services.” Instead of answering my question, Master Bartlett turned to Stephen Morley, as he asked: “What think you of it? Soldiering has become your trade, and you should be able to give a better opinion than me.” “I believe the lad to be in the right,” Stephen Morley replied, promptly. “It is true we can be of no service here after laying in a store of fuel. There are of provisions in the cave sufficient to fill all the stomachs in case we should remain away three weeks, and surely in that time we would rust out, if, indeed, there were no harm attached to our remaining idle when men are needed as they never were before.” “True for you, Master Morley!” Giles March cried, emphatically. “It would be a disgrace for us to linger here in idleness at such a time.” There was no need of further discussion; the question had already been settled, and Master Bartlett gave good proof that he so considered it by saying, thoughtfully: “We can’t well set off before sunset or thereabouts, and until such time it seems necessary Daniel Hinchman should gain some rest, while we provide against the needs of the women and the wounded during our absence.” It was a most intense relief to have thus decided upon some plan which promised action, and, when we returned to the cave to tell the women what it was we proposed to do, never one of them raised a voice against our departure. Mistress Morley, gathering her two children in her arms, said in a low tone as she caressed them: “We could not ask father to stay, and it would be selfish in us if we did not bid him go.” Esther Hinchman spoke privately with her brother for a few moments, and then, coming up to me, said, as she laid her hand in mine: “I’m glad you have decided to go, and shall pray that you may all be allowed to come back. There is no reason why you should have any anxiety concerning us, for here, if anywhere in the province, are we secure from intrusion.”