In this case diplomacy promises much more than a hopeless fight against an overwhelming force." "I'll fight 'em," Helm ground out between his teeth, "if I have to do it single-handed and alone! I'll fight 'em till hell freezes over!" Father Beret smiled grimly, as if he, too, would enjoy a lively skirmish on the ice of Tophet, and said: "I admire your courage, my son.

Fighting is perfectly proper upon fair occasion.

But think of the poor women and children.

These old eyes of mine have seen some terrible things done by enraged savages.

Men can die fighting; but their poor wives and daughters--ah, I have seen, I have seen!" Beverley felt a pang of terror shoot through his heart as Father Beret's simple words made him think of Alice in connection with an Indian massacre.
"Of course, of course it's horrible to think of," said Helm; "but my duty is clear, and that flag," he pointed to where la banniere d'Alice Roussillon was almost blowing away in the cold wind, "that flag shall not come down save in full honor." His speech sounded preposterously boastful and hollow; but he was manfully in earnest; every word came from his brave heart.
Father Beret's grim smile returned, lighting up his strongly marked face with the strangest expression imaginable.
"We will get all the women inside the fort," Helm began to say.
"Where the Indians will find them ready penned up and at their mercy," quickly interpolated the priest "That will not do." "Well, then, what can be done ?" Beverley demanded, turning with a fierce stare upon Father Beret.