."

"Thanks, Robertson, you are a good fellow," returned McArthur heartily,
grasping the young man's hand.

In a few minutes he rose to go. Rosalind accompanied him to the house
door.

"Mr. Robertson," she said abruptly, as soon as they were out of hearing,
"which would be the shortest cut to the village? By the woods or by the
river?" He looked keenly at her.

"You meant what you said just now?"

"Of course I meant it. I--I would do anything to save my father's and
mother's lives, and their property, which father has secured by dint of
so much labour."

He took her hand in his.

"Rosalind," he said softly, "if anything happened to you, my life would
be of no worth to me."

She flushed all over her fair skin.

"It is better to be prepared for an emergency," she answered gently,
"and I do not think I would run such a great risk as you and my father
think."

"You do not know the Redskin," was the grave answer.

"You heard my father say he couldn't spare a man. How much more use I
would be if I brought help than stayed here and perhaps shot a couple of
Indians, who might overpower us by their numbers. I was wondering if
Golightly and the woods would be a shorter way than my canoe and the
river?"

He had both her hands in his, and was looking down into her eyes.

"The woods and Golightly would be the swiftest way to communicate with
us in the village."

"Then if need be I shall do it."

"Take the right-hand track straight through the wood, and God protect
you, Rosalind. My house will be the first one you will come to. Let me
be the first to spring to your aid. No man will step into the stirrup
with greater alacrity than I. But, please God, there may be no need for
you to go."

He lifted her hands to his lips and was gone.

Two days passed and nothing of moment happened. But on the evening of
the third, two men in McArthur's employ entered the house breathless
with excitement. Feathertop--an Indian chief noted for the number of
scalps which adorned his person--had been seen in the vicinity of the
small settlement.

McArthur, with a grim fixedness of countenance, saw to the priming of
his rifle for the fiftieth time; and Rosalind, with her father's
courage, examined her own weapon, which she had resolved to take with
her for safety if Golightly had to be requisitioned.

"Rosalind, those chaps will be on us to-night or to-morrow morning."

It was McArthur who spoke, and Rosalind knew that her own mi