ion and my desire, that, whatever may
become of me, nothing but good shall become of her. And now, captain,
here's my tarms; I'll cut you loose from Injun tugs and Injun fires,
carry you safe to the Settlements, and give you this here precious
sheepskin,--which is jist as much as saying I'll make you the richest
man, in farms, flocks, and niggurs, in all Virginny; and you shall marry
the gal, and make a lady of her!"

"Marry her!" cried Roland, in amazement and consternation,--"marry her!"

"Ay, captain! that's the word," said Atkinson: "I have an idea you'll
make her a good husband, for you're an honest feller, and a brave
one--I'll say that for you; and she'll make you a good wife, or I'll give
you my scalp on it. I reckon the crittur has a liking for you already;
for I never did see any body so beg, and plead, and take on for mortal
feller. Marry her's the tarms; and, I reckon, you'll allow, they're easy
ones?"

"My good friend, you are surely jesting!" said the Virginian. "I will do
for her whatever you can wish, or demand. The best farm in the whole
estate shall be hers, and the protection of my kinswoman will be
cheerfully and gratefully granted."

"As for jesting, captain," said the renegade, with a lowering brow,
"there's not one particle of it about me, from top to toe. I offer you a
bargain that has all the good on your side; and I reckoned you'd 'a'
jumped at it with a whole hoss-load of thank'ees. I offer you a gal
that's the best gal in the whole eternal wood; and I reckon you may count
all that this here sheepskin will bring you as jist so much dowry of my
giving. A'n't that making tarms easy?--for, as for the small matters for
myself, them is things I will come upon the gal for, without troubling
you for 'em. Now you see, captain, I'll 'jist argue the matter. You may
reckon it strange I should make you such an offer; and ondoubtedly, so it
is. But here's the case. First, captain, I'm agin burning you; it makes.
me oneasy, to think of it--for you ha'n't done me no harm, and you're a
young feller of the rale Virginny grit, jist after my own heart, and I
takes to you. And, next, captain, there's the gal--a good gal, captain,
that's desarving of all I can do for her, and a heap more. But, captain,
what's to become of the crittur when I'am done for? You see, some of
these cussed Injuns--or it may be the white men, for they're all agin
me--will take the scalp off me some day, sooner or later, there's no two