appear unmoved at his taunts.

So when Hunston had exhausted his expletives and was about to give the
word to the firing party, young Jack spoke.

"One moment."

Hunston made the men a sign to ground arms.

The boy was about to beg for mercy.

Here, then, there was one chance of wreaking his spite upon the lad.

Now he should be able to feast his ears with the unhappy boy's piteous
appeals, for he well judged that, once he began to plead for pity, all
his fortitude would go.

"Before they fire," said young Jack, pale but resolute, as his comrade
Harry had just shown himself, "one word."

"Go on."

"I can speak as one on the brink of the grave," said the boy, "and so
my words may be prophetic. Before many weeks are over, you shall kneel
and sue for mercy to my father, and it will be denied you. You will
grovel in the dirt, and crawl and cringe in abject misery; but it will
be hopeless, and in the bitterness of your despair you will think of
this moment, and curse the hour you ever molested one of my race, or
anyone in whom we are interested."