"These creoles, over whom you've held a
hot poker all winter, are crazy to be turned loose upon you; and
you know that they've got good cause to feel like giving you the
extreme penalty. They'll give it to you without a flinch if they
get the chance. You've done enough."
Hamilton whirled about and glared ferociously.
"Helm, what do you mean?" he demanded in a voice as hollow as it
was full of desperate passion.
The genial Captain laughed, as if he had heard a good joke.
"You won't catch any fish if you swear, and you look blasphemous,"
he said with the lightness of humor characteristic of him at all
times. "You'd better say a prayer or two. Just reflect a moment
upon the awful sins you have committed and--"
A crash of coalescing volleys from every direction broke off his
levity. Clark was sending his response to Hamilton's lofty note.
The guns of freedom rang out a prophecy of triumph, and the
hissing bullets clucked sharply as they entered the solid logs of
the walls or whisked through an aperture and bowled over a man.
The British musketeers returned the fire as best they could, with
a courage and a stubborn coolness which Helm openly admired,
although he could not hide his satisfaction whenever one of them
was disabled.
"Lamothe and his men are refusing to obey orders," said Farnsworth
a little later, hastily approaching Hamilton, his face flushed and
a gleam of hot anger in his eyes.
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