There was only Hannah and John, the two house-servants, at hand.  Hannah couldn’t go, and John had strict orders never to leave the premises in Captain Elliston’s absence.  She looked at the clock; every second seemed an age.  If Barney didn’t come, if no one was sent in his place, her promise to Wallula would be broken, and Molly remembered Wallula’s words, “My mother say all white peoples forget, and break promises to Indians;” and her own vehement reply, “I sha’n’t forget; I sha’n’t break my promise, you’ll see, you’ll see, Lula!” Break her promise after that!  Never, never!  Her father himself would say she must not,—­would say that somebody must go in Barney’s place, and there was nobody,—­nobody to go but—­herself!

“Yer goin’ alone, yer mean, over to the Injuns!” demanded John, as Molly told him to bring her pony, Tam o’ Shanter, to the door.

“Yes, yes, and right away, John; so hurry as fast as you can.”

“Do yer think yer’d orter, Major Molly?  Do yer think the Cap’n would like it?” asked John, disapprovingly.

“John, if you don’t bring Tam ’round this minute, I’ll go for him myself.”

“’T ain’t safe fur yer to go over there alone!” cried Hannah.

“Safe!  I know the way, every inch of it, with my eyes shut, and so does Tam; and I know the Indians, and Wallula is my friend; and I told her she should have her present Christmas eve, sure, and I’m going to keep my promise.  Now bring Tam ’round just as quick as you can.”

John obeyed, though with evident reluctance, and Hannah showed her disapproval by scolding and protesting; but they had both of them lived on the frontier for years, and their disapproval therefore was not what it might have been under different circumstances.  Molly, they knew, could ride as well as a little Indian, and was familiar with every inch of the way, as she had said, and Wallula was her friend.

“And ’t wouldn’t ‘a’ done the least bit o’ good to hev set myself any more against her.  If I had, just as like as not the Cap’n would ‘a’ sided with her and been mad at me, for he thinks the Major’s ekal to ’most anything,” John confided to Hannah, as he brought the pony round.

The pony shied a little as Wallula’s Christmas present was strapped to his back.  But at Molly’s whispered, “Tam!  Tam! be a good boy.  We’re going to see Wallula,—­to carry her something nice, just as quick as we can go,” the little fellow whinnied softly, as if in response; and the next moment, at Molly’s “Now, Tam,” he started forward at his best pace,—­a pace that Molly knew so well, and knew she could trust,—­firm and even and assured, and gaining, gaining, gaining at every step.