dy friends, with the officers and other gentlemen who formed the
party, proceeded to a clear spot beneath the shade of some lofty trees,
where for awhile they could enjoy the sea breeze, while discussing the
viands they had brought. The repast being over, the three ladies
strolled along the beach to the western end of the island, for the
purpose of enjoying the view which extended almost to the extreme limit
of the harbour. Constance's two friends had seated themselves on the
bank, while she, attracted by some flowers which grew near the edge of
the water ran forward to examine them. She was on the point of picking
one of gorgeous hue when a canoe, paddled by a single Indian, unobserved
by her, darted round the point and approached the beach. The occupant
sprang lightly on shore, when a cry from her companions made her look
up, and she saw a tall and handsome native, with a circlet of feathers
on his head, and a cloak and kilt richly adorned, standing before her.
Her first impulse was to fly, but, giving another glance at the
stranger, she recognised Tecumah, the young chief of the Tamoyos. She
had already acquired some knowledge of the language.

"What brings you here?" she asked. "We thought that none of your people
were on the island."

She felt that it was better to speak, although she was not altogether
free from fear. The respectful attitude of the young chief, however,
reassured her.

"I often come here," he answered. "Seeing your boat approaching, I
waited for an opportunity of speaking to you, lady. For days and days I
have longed for it. Since my eyes first rested on your countenance it
has never been absent from my heart. My ambition has been to become
like your people, and to gain the knowledge they possess, and thus be
worthy of leading you home as my bride."

Such in substance was what the young chief said, although his address
was far longer, and more full of figurative expressions than have been
here given. Constance at first could not understand what he said, but
when its meaning broke on her she felt no small amount of alarm and
uneasiness, yet her right feeling would not allow her to treat young
Tecumah, savage though he was, either with contempt or anger.

"You have surprised and pained me," she answered gently. "It is not the
custom of the maidens of my country to wed with those of another race or
of a different faith," she answered. "I grieve to hurt your feelings
but what you ha