"Nay," returned Sally angrily, "that was the heat, forsooth! A kind of sunstroke! Make way, Zenas!"
"I—I—would not Sally! Ye will be sorry, I fear!"
But Sally trod past him on determined feet, and the boy followed her reluctantly to a narrow, level place beside the river. He found her kneeling beside an outstretched form.
"'Tis Master Crane," Sally told him in a low voice. "And he breathes, Zenas! I" She stopped, pondered. When she spoke again, her voice was troubled. "I think it our duty to inform Captain Littell and so obtain help for this man, enemy though he be, Zenas."
"Nay, Sally!" The boy whispered impetuously. "He be an enemy! Let him die!"
"Is that your mother's teachings, Zenas Williams!" Sally's voice was stern. "Enemy or no, we cannot let him die. Now," she sprang to her feet, "shall I return to the Rising Sun Tavern or will ye, Zenas?"
The boy hesitated. "I will go," he said sullenly, then.
Left alone beside that silent figure, Sally looked around her fearfully. There was the sound of the river, flowing toward Newark Bay, there were the vague gleams across the water which might mean the enemy, there were mysterious night noises in
