laws—to live on the profits and the property of others? Whence came the purse you brought here last week, but from the red-coat who travelled with you as a friend, and you, all the time receiving pay from his people? Whence came this watch you just now put into my hands, but from your prisoner? and the hog of which you ate for supper, your own rifle shot it in the swamp, although you saw the double fork in the ear, and the brand on its quarter, which told you it belonged to Squire Walton, at 'The Oaks?'—what do you care about the laws, then, that you would have me answer your question?"
"Nothing; I don't care that for all the laws in the country—not that! But still I wish to know the truth of this matter. It's for my pleasure. I like to know the truth; whether I mind it or not is another thing."
"Your pleasure, boy—your pleasure! and what if I tell you that Humphries spoke true—that you are—"
"A bastard! speak it out—I want to hear it; and it will give me pleasure—I love that which provokes me. I can smile when one does me an injury—smile all the time I bear it quietly, for I think of the time when I'm to take pay for it. You don't understand this, perhaps, and I can't give you any reason to make it more plain. But so I do—and when Humphries had done speaking, I would have given something handsome to have had him talk it over again. When I have him in my power, he shall do so."
"The Indian blood! It will show itself anyhow!"—was the involuntary exclamation of the old woman.
"Ha! what's that, mother!"
"Ask me not."
"Ay, but I will—I must; and hear me once for all—you tell me the truth, on the instant, or you never see my face again. I'll go to the Indies with Sir Charles Montague, that's making up a regiment in Charleston for that country."
"Beware, boy—ask me not—any thing else. You will hate me if I tell you. You will leave me for ever."
"No—don't be afraid. Come, speak out, and say—was my father's name Blonay?"
