THE COURAGE OF CAPTAIN PLUM
body trembled. Nathaniel took his arm sympathetically.
"Hadn't we better go, Dad?" he whispered.
"No—no—no—not yet, Nat. It's—it's—Neil now and I must see how the boy—stands it!"
It was but a short time before the guards returned. This time their prisoner walked free and erect. The thongs dangled from his wrists and he was a pace ahead of the two men who accompanied him. He was a young man. Nathaniel judged his age at twenty-five. He was a striking contrast to the man who had suffered first at the post. His face instead of betraying the former's pallor was flushed with excitement; his head was held high; not a sign of fear or hesitation shone in his eyes. As he glanced quickly around the circle of faces the flush grew deeper in his cheeks. He nodded and smiled at MacDougall and in that nod and smile there was a meaning that sent a shiver to the whip-master's heart. Then his eyes fell upon Obadiah
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