ed to have her say," said Cooper calmly.

Ford said, "The defense calls Miss Nancy Hale."

Auguste's heart started to beat harder as he watched Nancy, tall and
straight in a pale violet dress, walk to the witness's chair. Just what
he had feared a year ago, when Nancy first asked him to make love to
her, had happened. He felt a love for her--an impossible love, now--that
was as strong in its way as the love he felt for Redbird.

In answer to Ford's soft-spoken questions, Nancy told how she had been
captured and how Auguste had intervened to protect her, and later to
protect Woodrow. She told how he had risked his life to escort her and
Woodrow to safety, and had ended up being captured.

Bennett got up to cross-question.

"Miss Hale, this may be a hard question for you to answer in open court.
But it is important to this trial. It's well-known that Indians are no
respecters of the virtue of white women. So, what I'm asking you is ..."
He paused and leaned over her. "Were you subjected to anything of a
shameful nature while you were a prisoner of the Sauk?"

"Objection," called Ford. "The question itself is shameful. It has no
possible bearing on this case."

Judge Cooper glared at Bennett. "What call do you have to ask her that?"

"Defense counsel has taken us down a lot of winding roads, Your Honor.
I'm attempting to determine facts about the defendant's character."

"I'll allow it," said Cooper, his voice low and reluctant, and Bennett
turned with a look of satisfaction to Nancy and repeated his question.

Nancy looked him coldly in the eye. "I've already said. Auguste de
Marion protected me. I was never harmed."

Bennett narrowed his eyes. Raoul had chosen the man well for his
purposes, Auguste thought, hating Bennett for tormenting Nancy.

"Well, but what about Auguste de Marion himself? Didn't you live in one
of their huts with him? Did he ever approach you with lewd intent?"

"Certainly not!" said Nancy. "Yes, I did live in his--the word is
wickiup, Mr. Bennett. But the situation was perfectly proper. His wife
and child were with us all the time."

From the back of the hall Raoul brayed, "She probably enjoyed it. She
always had an eye for the mongrel."

Auguste felt his neck grow hot. He wanted to kill. But someone would
stop him before he reached Raoul; and even to try to attack him would
only confirm the picture Bennett was trying to paint, of a murderous
savage. He forced himself to sit still.