hy did you come? Why did you come, Amory? Oh, I think I
could have borne anything, but if they hurt you I could not bear that."

"How could I stay behind when I knew that you were in their hands?
I should have gone mad!"

"Ah, it was my one consolation to think that you were safe."

"No, no, we have gone through so much together that we cannot part now.
What is death, Adele? Why should we be afraid of it?"

"I am not afraid of it."

"And I am not afraid of it. Things will come about as God wills it, and
what He wills must in the end be the best. If we live, then we have
this memory in common. If we die, then we go hand-in-hand into
another life. Courage, my own, all will be well with us."

"Tell me, monsieur," said Onega, "is my lord still living?"

"Yes, he is alive and well."

"It is good. He is a great chief, and I have never been sorry, not even
now, that I have wedded with one who was not of my own people. But ah,
my son! Who shall give my son back to me? He was like the young
sapling, so straight and so strong! Who could run with him, or leap
with him, or swim with him? Ere that sun shines again we shall all be
dead, and my heart is glad, for I shall see my boy once more."

The Iroquois paddles had bent to their work until a good ten miles lay
between them and Sainte Marie. Then they ran the canoe into a little
creek upon their own side of the river, and sprang out of her, dragging
the prisoners after them. The canoe was carried on the shoulders of
eight men some distance into the wood, where they concealed it between
two fallen trees, heaping a litter of branches over it to screen it from
view. Then, after a short council, they started through the forest,
walking in single file, with their three prisoners in the middle.
There were fifteen warriors in all, eight in front and seven behind, all
armed with muskets and as swift-footed as deer, so that escape was out
of the question. They could but follow on, and wait in patience for
whatever might befall them.

All day they pursued their dreary march, picking their way through vast
morasses, skirting the borders of blue woodland lakes where the gray
stork flapped heavily up from the reeds at their approach, or plunging
into dark belts of woodland where it is always twilight, and where the
falling of the wild chestnuts and the chatter of the squirrels a hundred
feet above their heads were the only sounds which broke the silence.
Onega had th