t you ain't sure o' it? What makes you think he air
gone?"

"Too sure of it--it was that knowledge that brought me in such haste to
your cabin."

I detailed the events of the morning, which Wingrove had not yet heard;
my brief interview with the Indian maiden--her figurative prophecy that
had proved but two truthful. I described the deserted dwelling; and at
last read to him the letter of Lilian--read it from beginning to end.

He listened with attention, though chafing at the delay. Once or twice
only did he interrupt me, with the simple expression--"Poor little Lil!"

"Poor little Lil!" repeated he when I had finished. "She too gone wi'
him!--just as Marian went six months ago!

"No--no!" he exclaimed correcting himself, in a voice that proclaimed
the agony of his thoughts. "No! it war different--altogether different:
_Marian went willin'ly_."

"How know you that?" I said, with a half-conceived hope of consoling
him.

"Know it? O stranger! I'm sure o' it; Su-wa-nee sayed so."

"That signifies nothing. It is not the truer of her having said so. A
jealous and spiteful rival. Perhaps the very contrary is the truth?
Perhaps Marian was forced to marry this, man? Her father may have
influenced her: and it is not at all unlikely, since he appears to be
himself under some singular influence--as if in dread of his saintly
son-in-law. I noticed some circumstances that would lead one to this
conclusion."

"Thank ye, stranger, for them words!" cried the young hunter, rushing
forward; and grasping me eagerly by the hand. "It's the first bit o'
comfort I've had since Marian war tuk away! I've heerd myself that Holt
war afeerd o' Stebbins; an' maybe that snake in the grass had a coil
about him somehow. I confess ye, it often puzzled me, Marian's takin'
it so to heart, an' all about a bit o' a kiss--which I wudn't a tuk, if
the Indian hadn't poked her lips clost up to myen. Lord o' mercy! I'd
gie all I've got in the world, to think it war true as you've sayed."

"I have very little doubt of its being true. I have now seen your
rival; and I think it altogether improbable she would, of her own free
will, have preferred him to you."

"Thank ye, stranger! it's kind in you to say so. She's now married an'
gone: but if I thort thar had been _force_ used, I'd 'a done long ago
_what I mean to do now_."

"What is that?" I asked, struck by the emphatic energy with which the
last words were spoken. "Foller _