vengeance could not be doubted. As soon
as the murderous work was over, guides were with difficulty engaged.
Having fitted up a sort of prop in which I could tie Hamilton to the
saddle, I saw both Father Holland and Eric set out for Red River before
daybreak.

It was best they should go and I remain. If Miriam were still in the
country, stay I would, till she were safe; but I had no mind to see Eric
go mad or die before the rescue could be accomplished.

As they were leaving I took a piece of birch bark. On it I wrote with a
charred stick:--

"Greetings to my own dear love from her ever loyal and devoted
knight."

This, Father Holland bore to Frances Sutherland from me.

CHAPTER XVII

THE PRICE OF BLOOD

How many shapeless terrors can spring from the mind of man I never knew
till Eric and the priest left me alone in the Mandane village. Ever, on
closing my eyes, there rolled and rolled past, endlessly, without going
one pace beyond my sight, something too horrible to be contemplated.
When I looked about to assure myself the thing was not there--could not
possibly be there--memory flashed back the whole dreadful scene. Up
started glazed eyes from the hearth, the floor, and every dim nook in
the lodge. Thereupon I would rush into the village road, where the
shamefaced greetings of guilty Indians recalled another horror.

If I ventured into Le Grand Diable's power a fate worse than La Robe
Noire's awaited me. That there would be a hostile demonstration over the
Sioux messenger's death I was certain. Nothing that I offered could
induce any of the Indians to act as scouts or to reconnoiter the enemy's
encampment. I had, of my own will, chosen to remain, and now I found
myself with tied hands, fuming and gnashing against fate, conjuring up
all sorts of projects for the rescue of Miriam, and butting my head
against the impossible at every turn. Thus three weary days dragged
past.

Having reflected on the consequences of their outrage, the Mandanes
exhibited repentance of a characteristically human form--resentment
against the cause of their trouble. Unfortunately, I was the cause. From
the black looks of the young men I half suspected, if the Sioux chief
would accept me in lieu of material gifts, I might be presented as a
peace-offering. This would certainly not forward my quest, and prudence,
or cowardice--two things easily confused when one is in peril--counseled
discretion, and discretion seem