use of repentance to any,"
answered Judith, with an impetuosity of feeling and manner that at once
unveiled her eyes. "We can cause the soldiers to leave our goods on the
road, till we return, when they can easily be brought back to the house;
the lake will be no more visited by the enemy, this war at least; all
your skins may be readily sold at the garrison; there you can buy the
few necessaries we shall want, for I wish never to see the spot, again;
and Deerslayer," added the girl smiling with a sweetness and nature that
the young man found it hard to resist, "as a proof how wholly I am and
wish to be yours,--how completely I desire to be nothing but your wife,
the very first fire that we kindle, after our return, shall be lighted
with the brocade dress, and fed by every article I have that you may
think unfit for the woman you wish to live with!"

"Ah's me!--you're a winning and a lovely creatur', Judith; yes, you are
all that, and no one can deny it and speak truth. These pictur's are
pleasant to the thoughts, but they mightn't prove so happy as you now
think 'em. Forget it all, therefore, and let us paddle after the Sarpent
and Hist, as if nothing had been said on the subject."

Judith was deeply mortified, and, what is more, she was profoundly
grieved. Still there was a steadiness and quiet in the manner of
Deerslayer that completely smothered her hopes, and told her that for
once her exceeding beauty had failed to excite the admiration and homage
it was wont to receive. Women are said seldom to forgive those who
slight their advances, but this high spirited and impetuous girl
entertained no shadow of resentment, then or ever, against the fair
dealing and ingenuous hunter. At the moment, the prevailing feeling was
the wish to be certain that there was no misunderstanding. After another
painful pause, therefore, she brought the matter to an issue by a
question too direct to admit of equivocation.

"God forbid that we lay up regrets, in after life, through my want of
sincerity now," she said. "I hope we understand each other, at least.
You will not accept me for a wife, Deerslayer?"

"'Tis better for both that I shouldn't take advantage of your own
forgetfulness, Judith. We can never marry."

"You do not love me,--cannot find it in your heart, perhaps, to esteem
me, Deerslayer!"

"Everything in the way of fri'ndship, Judith--everything, even to
sarvices and life itself. Yes, I'd risk as much for you, at this m