. I am still
Edith Forrester's friend; and such, in the sturdiness of my affection, I
will remain, whether my fair mistress will or no. But you are feeble and
agitated: sit down and listen to me. I have that to say which will
convince my thoughtless fair the day of disdain is now over."

All these expressions, though uttered with seeming blandness, were yet
accompanied by an air of decision and even command, as if the speaker
were conscious the maiden was fully in his power, and not unwilling she
should know it. But his attempt to make her resume her seat upon the pile
of skins from which she had so wildly started at his entrance, was
resisted by Edith; who, gathering courage from desperation, and shaking
his hand from her arm, as if snatching it from the embraces of a serpent,
replied with even energy,--"I will not sit down,--I will not listen to
you. Approach me not--touch me not. You are a villain and murderer, and
I loathe, oh! unspeakably loathe, your presence. Away from me, or--"

"Or," interrupted Braxley with the sneer of a naturally mean and
vindictive spirit, "you will cry for assistance! From whom do you expect
it? From wild, murderous, besotted Indians, who, if roused from their
drunken slumbers, would be more like to assail you with their hatchets
than to weep for your sorrows? Know, fair Edith, that you are now in
their hands;--that there is not one of them, who would not rather see
those golden tresses hung blackening in the smoke from the rafters of his
wigwam, than floating over the brows they adorn--Look aloft: there are
ringlets of young and fair, the innocent and tender, swinging above
you!--Learn, moreover, that from these dangerous friends there is none
who can protect you, save _me_. Ay, my beauteous Edith," he added, as the
captive, overcome by the representation of her perils so unscrupulously,
nay, so sternly made, sank almost fainting upon the pile, "it is even so;
and you must know it. It is needful you should know what you have to
expect, if you reject my protection. But that you will not reject; in
faith, you _cannot!_ The time has come, as I told you it would, when your
disdainful scruples--I speak plainly, fair Edith!--are to be at an end. I
swore to you--and it was when your scorn and unbelief were at the
highest--that you should yet smile upon the man you disdained, and smile
upon no other. It was a rough and uncouth threat for a lover; but my
mistress would have it so. It was a vow bre