are
my weary bondage until the dread crisis had passed, I had never
been here; and now that the great object of my heart has failed,
I would return, and share the danger that surrounds you. One more
embrace would give me greater strength to die. One more renewal of
each well-remembered face would make me firmer in resolve to meet
the coming danger, that danger shared by all. But Wau-nan-gee, in
all things else docile as a slave, in this denies me. In his mother's
tent I dwell, disguised from the wretch Pee-to-tum in Indian garb,
and, although she does not seem to do so, she watches my motions
closely. Oh! then, since I may not go to you, come for a brief
period to your adoring wife! Come with the occasion back with
Wau-nan-gee. He will conduct you to the tent where now I am, some
little distance from the general encampment, and never visited but
by Winnebeg and his son. You will say I am but an indifferent
soldier's wife to give such counsel to a husband. I confess it; my
love for you is greater than my regard for your glory. But what
glory do you seek? March with the troops and ingloriously you
perish; for what can avail defence against the strong force I know
to be fully bent upon your destruction. Join me here and you are
saved--saved for a long and future course of glory for your
country--and, oh! far dearer to me, for a long and future course
of wedded happiness. Yet, oh, God! how can my pencil trace this
icy language, while my heart is desolate--longing--pining for your
presence. Oh, beloved Ronayne! by all the vows of love you ever
poured into my willing ear--by all the fires of passion you ever
kindled in my heart, I conjure you to come, for I can endure this
suspense, this cruel uncertainty no longer. To-night I shall count
the long, long hours; and, oh! if Wau-nan-gee return without you,
without one ray of hope to animate this breaking heart, I will not
leave him until I have won his promise to conduct me at midnight
to the secret entrance through which he has so often gained admission
into the fort; or failing in my plea to him, I will make the attempt
to fly myself. But, dear Ronayne, if you come not, the measure
of my grief will be full indeed to overflowing. I can no longer
endure this."

Such was the last note of the unhappy and distracted Maria Ronayne.
The document addressed to Mrs. Headley was more voluminous, and
written of course under the impression that when read by the latter,
her own husband w