Savignon's acute eyes told him another party had crossed it, and he went on warily. Presently, in the coming darkness, two scouts ran on ahead. "Art thou tired, Mam'selle?" asked the well-modulated voice that had lost the guttural Indian tone. "Not tired, but impatient. Do you suppose we have missed them? What if they should have started in some other direction?" "I hardly think that.
She could not tell him that he knew only half, that he might still be the object of Savignon's vengeance, if she failed to keep her word. "Perhaps the Sieur will have something to say, if my wishes fail. Unless you tell me you love this Indian, and that seems monstrous to me, this marriage shall never take place."
I must go, even if I ran away and followed on behind. And I am no delicate house-plant." "Thou art a brave girl," admiringly. "Thou hast been used to woods and rocks, and art strong and courageous." To be called monsieur was one of Savignon's great delights.
The campfire is out, the stones are missing. What shall we do?" Rose gave a soft, appealing cry, that she vainly strove to restrain. "We had better go on. We must stop for the night. It is too dark to find their trail." It seemed to Rose as if she would sink to the ground with indescribable terror. "Oh, do you think " She caught Savignon's arm.