!
how shall I ever requite the act? how shall I ever forget it?" And as he
spoke, the soldier, yet lying across Nathan's knees, for his limbs
refused to support him, grasped his preserver's hands with a fervour of
gratitude that gave new life and vigour to his exhausted spirits.

"And thee does not think then," muttered Nathan, snuffling twice as much
as before, but growing bolder as Roland's gratitude reassured him,--"thee
does not think,--that is, thee is not of opinion,--that is to say, thee
does not altogether hold it to be as a blood-guiltiness, and a
wickedness, and a shedding of blood, that I did take to me the weapon of
war, and shoot upon thee wicked oppressors, to the saving of thee life?
Truly, friend, it was to save thee life,--thee must remember _that_; it
was a thing that was necessary, and not to be helped. Truly, friend, it
was my desire to help thee in peace and with a peaceful hand; but, of a
truth, there was thee enemies at thee side, with their guns and their
knives, ready to start up and knock out thee unfortunate brains. Truly,
friend, thee sees it couldn't be helped; and, truly, I don't think thee
conscience can condemn me."

"Condemn you indeed!" cried the young man; "it was an act to bind my
gratitude for ever,--an act to win you the admiration and respect of the
whole world, which I shall take care to make acquainted with it."

"Nay, friend," said Nathan, hastily, "the less thee says of it the
better: if thee is theeself satisfied in thee conscience of its
lawfulness, it is enough. Do thee, therefore, hold thee tongue on this
and all other matters wherein thee has seen me do evil; for truly I am a
man of a peaceful faith, and what I have done would be but as a grief and
a scandal to the same."

"But my friends,--my poor Edith!--wretch that I am to think of myself or
of others, while she is still a captive!" cried Roland, again
endeavouring to rise. But his limbs, yet paralysed from the tightness
with which thongs had been bound around them, tottered beneath him, and
but for Nathan, he must have fallen to the earth. "The emigrants," he
continued with incoherent haste;--"you brought them? They are pursuing
the savages? they have rescued her? Speak, Nathan,--tell me all; tell me
that my cousin is free!"

"Truly, friend," muttered Nathan, his countenance losing much of the
equanimity that had begun to cover it, and assuming a darker and
disturbed expression, "thee doth confuse both theeself an