e could
finish up the whole ten."

"Finish some--don't know which--dat de reason."

"Their heads are so full of their devilish inventions, I should think
they could get up some way to attack us without getting a shot at
them."

"Attack purty soon--keep eye peeled--don't see notting?"

"Nothing at all," replied the Rifleman, who, all this time, was peering
through a chink in the logs and not looking at the Indian.

Taking it for granted that if the Huron saw no danger there could be
none, Dernor turned toward Edith, and asked, in that low, passionate
tone which he instinctively assumed in addressing her:

"And how do you feel, dear Edith, all this time?"

"_My_ courage, I think, will bear up as long as _yours_," she answered,
with a faint smile.

"It will bear up to the end, then," he added. Then looking at her a
moment, he continued: "Edith, how you must feel toward me for bringing
you into this trouble! I have been thinking of it for the last day or
two."

"Did you do it on purpose?" she asked. "That is, did you _know_ we
should be pursued and persecuted as we have been when we started?"

"Know it? of course not. I would have been shot before I would have
come."

"Then why do you ask me such a question? No, Lewis, I do not blame you
in the least. On the contrary, I shall never be able to express the
gratitude I feel for what you have done."

This was the first time Edith had addressed the Rifleman by his given
name, and it gave him a peculiar pleasure which it would be difficult
to describe. He was only restrained from approaching by the reflection
that he would cut a most ridiculous figure in the presence of the
Huron. His feelings were now such that, upon his own account alone, he
would have welcomed several days' siege. In fact, he would have cared
very little had Oonamoo been a hundred miles distant just then.

But these emotions were only temporary. Five minutes later, he felt
heartily ashamed that he should have entertained them.

"I am certain, Edith----"

Further utterance was checked by an exclamation from the Huron. Looking
forth, Dernor saw that the crisis of the contest had arrived!

CHAPTER XII.

CONCLUSION.

They come!--be firm--in silence rally! The Long Knives our retreat have
found! Hark! their tramp is in the valley, And they hem the forest
round! The burthened boughs with pale scouts quiver, The echoing hills
tumultuous ring, While, across the eddying river, Their barks,