His
musical, golden voice, his vivid eyes and his intense earnestness of
tone, the same that had impressed so greatly the fifty sachems in the
vale of Onondaga, carried conviction. If one telling a tale believed
in it so thoroughly himself then those who heard it must believe in it
too.
Robert fulfilled a great mission. He was not the orator, the golden
mouthed, for nothing. If the winter came down a little too fiercely,
his vivid eyes and gay voice were sufficient to lift the
depression. Even the somber face of Black Rifle would light up when he
came near. Nor was the young Quaker, Wilton, far behind him. He was a
spontaneously happy youth, always bubbling with good nature, and he
formed an able second for Lennox.
"Will," said Robert, "I believe it actually gives you joy to be here
in this log fortress in the snow and wilderness. You do not miss the
great capital, Philadelphia, to which you have been used all your
life."
"No, I don't, Robert. I like Fort Refuge, because I'm free from
restraints. It's the first time my true nature has had a chance to
come out, and I'm making the most of the opportunity. Oh, I'm
developing! In the spring you'll see me the gayest and most reckless
blade that ever came into the forest.
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