is gone. In the
lone forest, where the wintry blast swept unobstructed, the giant trees
moaned sadly and fitfully over their bleeding child; and the bright
stars, that saw the heavy deed, wept from their place in heaven, and
bathed her lovely form in night's pure dews. She did not long remain
unburied in that forest, for when Virginia heard the story of her faith
and loyalty from the rude lips of Holliday, the pure form of the Indian
girl, still fresh and free from the polluting touch of the destroyer,
was borne to her own home, and followed with due rites and fervent grief
to the quiet tomb. In after days, when her sad heart loved to dwell upon
these early scenes, Virginia placed above the sacred ashes of her friend
a simple marble tablet, long since itself a ruin; and there, engraven
with the record of her faith, her loyalty and her love, was the sweet
assurance, that in her almost latest words, the trusting Indian girl had
indeed become one of "the children of her Father which is in Heaven."

CHAPTER XLIII.

"Let some of the guard be ready there.
For me?
Must I go like a traitor thither?"
_Henry VIII._

The reader need not be told that Hansford, surprised and unarmed, for
his remaining pistol was not at hand, and his sword had been laid aside
for the night, was no match for the two powerful men who now rushed upon
him. To pinion his arms closely behind him, was the work of a moment,
and further resistance was impossible. Seeing that all hope of
successful defence was gone, Hansford maintained in his bearing the
resolute fortitude and firmness which can support a brave man in
misfortune, when active courage is no longer of avail.

"I suppose, I need not ask Mr. Bernard," he said, "by what authority he
acts--and yet I would be glad to learn for what offence I am arrested."

"The memory of your former acts should teach you," returned Bernard,
coarsely, "that your offence is reckoned among the best commentators of
the law as high treason."

"A grievous crime, truly," replied Hansford, "but one of which I am
happily innocent, unless, indeed, a skirmish with the hostile Indians
should be reckoned as such, or Sir William Berkeley should be
presumptuous enough to claim to be a king; in which latter case, he
himself would be the traitor."

"He is at least the deputy of the king," said Bernard, haughtily, "and
in his person the m