arned ef I do."

"Well; a man must do something to prove himself worthy of the name; at
least one deed during his lifetime. There's one I've got to do--must do
it, before I can think of anything else."

"That is?"

"_Kill Richard Darke_, As you know, I've sworn it, and nothing shall
come between me and my oath. No, Sime, not even she who stands yonder;
though I can't tell how it pains me to separate from her, now."

"Good Lord! that will be a painful partin'! Poor gurl! I reckin her
heart's been nigh broke arready. She hasn't the peach colour she used
to hev. It's clean faded out o' her cheeks, an' what your goin' to do
now aint the way to bring it back agin."

"I cannot help it, Sime. I hear my mother calling me. Go, now! I wish
it; I insist upon it!"

Saying this, he turns towards Helen Armstrong to speak a word, which he
knows will be sad as was ever breathed into the ear of woman.

CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR.

A WILD FAREWELL.

On Clancy and the hunter becoming engaged in their serious deliberation,
the sisters also exchange thoughts that are troubled. The first bright
flash of joy at their release from captivity, with Helen's added
gratification, is once more clouded over, as they think of what may have
befallen their father. Now, knowing who the miscreants are, their
hearts are heavy with apprehension. Jessie may, perhaps, feel it the
more, having most cause--for her dread is of a double nature. There is
her affianced, as well as her father!

But for Helen there is also another agony in store, soon to be suffered.
Little thinks she, as Clancy coming up takes her hand, that the light
of gladness, which so suddenly shone into her heart, is to be with like
suddenness extinguished; and that he who gave is about to take it away.
Gently leading her apart, and leaving Jessie to be comforted by Sime, he
says--

"Dearest! we've arranged everything for your being taken back to the
Mission. The brave backwoodsmen, Woodley and Heywood, will be your
escort. Under their protection you'll have nothing to fear. Either
would lay down his life for you or your sister. Nor need you be uneasy
about your father. From what this fellow, Bosley, says, the ruffians
only meant robbery, and if they have not been resisted it will end in
that only. Have courage, and be cheered; you'll find your father as you
left him."

"And you?" she asks in surprise. "Do you not go with us?"

He hesitates to make answer, fear