"What else think you?" went on Pieter, with his snorting laugh. "Shall Roussilac allow a spy to reach New England, there to make known his weakness, without striking a blow for his capture? See you that straight limb on yonder pine? I tell you that slim body of yours would have swung there ere sunrise, had you not by good luck fallen in with Pieter von Donck." "They shall never hang me," said Geoffrey defiantly. "Spoken like a Dutchman," said the sailor. "But now to work. I have as little mind as you to die out of season, for my shrift shall be as short as yours if yonder little men pull me down. Scatter the fire, and remove all traces of our camping-place, while I pull at my pipe and think. The soldiers have a hard climb before them yet." Von Donck screwed the pieces of his wooden pipe together, filled the bowl, and taking a brand from the fire, removed to the edge of the cataract. There he sat, puffing great clouds, his eyes settled upon the ravine, his face stony in thought, while Geoffrey swept the fire into the cataract and obliterated all traces of the recent struggle with the wild cat. "Bring me my panther hide," called Von Donck, rising with leisurely movements. "We shall win a bloodless victory, and enjoy a laugh to boot. Yonder lies the man to fight for us." He pointed with the stem of his pipe into the middle of the moon. Refusing to divulge more of his plan, Von Donck threw the pelt across his shoulder and strode into the bush. Geoffrey followed, and the two men struggled on for upwards of a mile, until the ground went away sharply and the cataract thundered far below through a neck of rock scarcely more than four feet in width. Here Von Donck halted and steadied his body upon the brink. "If I fail to make this jump, reclaim my body from yonder depths, and say that I fell like a soldier," he jested. Crossing the chasm, they descended, letting themselves from rock to rock, and running whenever a sheep walk became visible. As they entered the ravine the noise over the hills became more definite. "How is it they have tracked me?" asked Geoffrey as they ran. "I have no breath for idle talk," gasped his comrade. "They bring with them an Indian, one of the cursed Algonquins, who shall tell when even a bird has hopped across a stone." The climb began, up the face of the hills to the region of the moon. The crystal wall was nowhere precipitous. When the summit had been attained, Von Donck flung himself between the mighty lips of the granite face and gasped heavily. Some minutes elapsed before speech returned to him. "I would as soon carry a man upon my back as this weight of flesh," he growled. "By San Nicolas, I did never so sweat in my life." "This is open rock, without tree or shelter," said Geoffrey wonderingly. "We could have made a better stand in the bush."