“Thanks be to God, it is you, Lieutenant,” came the voice from out of the circle of darkness around us.
A man appeared out of that dark circle, one of the men we had left to guard the camp, whose name was Nicolas Greene.
“I didn’t know but that you might be savages, sir, come to relieve me of thinning hair. They can do so many things. Curse me if there isn’t one who can speak our language as good as you or me. Would not surprise me if one couldn’t imitate the voice of Christ Almighty, if he was to hear it, I mean.”
“Where are the other men?” the Lieutenant asked.
“Gone, sir, I’m afraid.”
“What do you mean, gone?”
“I don’t rightly know, sir. You see, the morning after you left, come a savage into the camp. A big, strong fellow he was, not in dress and manner like those other nations w
