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Updated: May 11, 2025
"That was my fault, God forgi' me!" "He ain't her husband nothin' o' the kind. The marriage war a sham. He war takin' poor Marian out thar for a diffrent purpose an' Lilian too." "For what purpose?" cried Holt, a new light seeming suddenly to break upon his mind. "To make " answered Wingrove hesitatingly.
Their culms curved over, till the long quivering leaves dipped into the water. Here and there were thickets of them extending back into the plain. Only by passing through these could the bank of the river be reached. We entered among the willows, Wingrove going in the advance. I saw him stoop suddenly, as if to examine the ground.
But it needed not names to confirm me in the belief that "Josh Stebbins" was the sham-husband, and that she whom he would have betrayed this huntress-maiden, was the lost love of my comrade Wingrove the sister of my own Lilian. This would account for the resemblance that had struck me. It no longer seemed vague, in my memory: I could now trace it palpably and clearly.
We saw him withdraw from the ceremonies, and, going apart, engage with the girl in what appeared an earnest and animated conversation. With hopeful hearts we looked on. Wingrove was no longer jealous. I had cured him with a hint; and the bandaged arm of his betrothed had explained the delicate attentions, which the Indian had been seen to bestow upon her.
The pouch proclaims its value, and promises to sell itself. Certainly it is a beautiful object with its quills of brilliant dye, and richly-embroidered shoulder-strap. Perhaps no object could be held up before the eyes of Frank Wingrove more likely to elicit his admiration. He sees and admires. He knows its value.
Wingrove, who had by some means wrenched his wrists free from their fastenings, had turned the tables upon his captor, by transforming him into a captive! I chanced to be without a knife; but the Mexican was supplied with the necessary implement; and, drawing it from its sheath, shot past me to use it. I thought he intended to cut the thongs that bound the two men together.
Fear not! your friend awaits you as also your old favourite, Frank Wingrove, with other brave companions. Your sister will receive you with open arms." "Marian." Surely Lilian would not resist such an appeal? Surely it would be enough to separate her even from him whose slight protection scarcely gave him claim to the sacred title of parent?
The tricoloured escutcheon I had myself so lately borne the black face, shoulders, and arms the white circle on the breast the red spot all just as they had painted me! "Jehosophet an' pigeon-pie!" cried he, as he saw us approach; "air it yeou, capting? an' Wingrove, teoo!" "Yes, brave comrade! Your shot has saved us all. Patience! we shall soon set you free!"
She died on the way out, an' war berryed som'rs on the paraireys. I wish I knew whar I'd go to see her grave." "Ha! ha! ha! Whose story is this?" My companion looked at me in amazement. The laugh, at such a time, must have sounded strange to his ears. "The Injun heerd it from Lil," replied Wingrove, still puzzled at my behaviour. "Stebbins had told it to Holt, an' to her likeways.
We were in perfect accord as to our course of action, as in our thoughts. If our motives were not similar, our enemy was the same. Only was there a difference in our prospective designs. Love was the lure that beckoned me on; Wingrove was led by revenge. To follow him, and punish guilt, was the metier of my companion; to follow her, and rescue innocence, was the role cast for me.
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