larke never will forgive you, even if you want him
to, which I am sure you do not. I don't know exactly what is in this
letter, but I know it will make you ashamed to think you did not
trust him."

With this parting reproof the Colonel walked out, leaving Betty
completely bewildered. The words "too late," "never forgive," and "a
great pity" rang through her head. What did he mean? She tore the
letter open with trembling hands and holding it up to the now
fast-waning light, she read

"Dear Betty:

"If you had waited only a moment longer I know you would not have
been so angry with me. The words I wanted so much to say choked me
and I could not speak them. I love you. I have loved you from the
very first moment, that blessed moment when I looked up over your
pony's head to see the sweetest face the sun ever shone on. I'll be
the happiest man on earth if you will say you care a little for me
and promise to be my wife.

"It was wrong to kiss you and I beg your forgiveness. Could you but
see your face as I saw it last night in the moonlight, I would not
need to plead: you would know that the impulse which swayed me was
irresistible. In that kiss I gave you my hope, my love, my life, my
all. Let it plead for me.

"I expect to return from Ft. Pitt in about six or eight weeks, but I
cannot wait until then for your answer.

"With hope I sign myself,

"Yours until death,

"Alfred."

Betty read the letter through. The page blurred before her eyes; a
sensation of oppression and giddiness made her reach out helplessly
with both hands. Then she slipped forward and fell on the floor. For
the first time in all her young life Betty had fainted. Col. Zane
found her lying pale and quiet under the window.

CHAPTER IX.

Yantwaia, or, as he was more commonly called, Cornplanter, was
originally a Seneca chief, but when the five war tribes
consolidated, forming the historical "Five Nations," he became their
leader. An old historian said of this renowned chieftain: "Tradition
says that the blood of a famous white man coursed through the veins
of Cornplanter. The tribe he led was originally ruled by an Indian
queen of singular power and beauty. She was born to govern her
people by the force of her character. Many a great chief importuned
her to become his wife, but she preferred to cling to her power and
dignity. When this white man, then a very young man, came to the
Ohio valley the queen fell in love with him, and Cornplan