gallberries. Colonel Clark had no respect whatever for Hamilton, to
whom he had applied the imperishable adjective "hair-buyer General." On
the other hand Governor Hamilton, who felt keenly the disgrace of
having to equalize himself officially and discuss terms of surrender
with a rough backwoodsman, could not conceal his contempt of Clark.

The five men of history, Hamilton, Helm, Hay, Clark and Bowman, were
not distinguished diplomats. They went at their work rather after the
hammer-and-tongs fashion. Clark bluntly demanded unconditional
surrender. Hamilton refused. They argued the matter. Helm put in his
oar, trying to soften the situation, as was his custom on all
occasions, and received from Clark a stinging reprimand, with the
reminder that he was nothing but a prisoner on parole, and had no voice
at all in settling the terms of surrender.

"I release him, sir," said Hamilton. "He is no longer a prisoner. I am
quite willing to have Captain Helm join freely in our conference."

"And I refuse to permit his acceptance of your favor," responded Clark.
"Captain Helm, you will return with Mr. Hamilton to the fort and remain
his captive until I free you by force. Meantime hold your tongue."

Father Beret, suave looking and quiet, occupied himself at the little
altar, apparently altogether indifferent to what was being said; but he
lost not a word of the talk.

"Qui habet aures audiendi, audiat," he inwardly repeated, smiling
blandly. "Gaudete in illa die, et exultate!"

Hamilton rose to go; deep lines of worry creased his face; but when the
party had passed outside, he suddenly turned upon Clark and said:

"Why do you demand impossible terms of me?"

"I will tell you, sir," was the stern answer, in a tone in which there
was no mercy or compromise. "I would rather have you refuse. I desire
nothing so much as an excuse to wreak full and bloody vengeance on
every man in that fort who has engaged in the business of employing
savages to scalp brave, patriotic men and defenseless women and
children. The cries of the widows and the fatherless on our frontiers
require the blood of the Indian partisans at my hands. If you choose to
risk the massacre of your garrison to save those despicable red-handed
partisans, have your pleasure. What you have done you know better than
I do. I have a duty to perform. You may be able to soften its nature. I
may take it into my head to send for some of our bereaved women to
witness my te