“‘Chactas, son of Outalissi,’ said Simaghan, ’rejoice!  We will burn you before our wig-wams.’

“‘That is good news,’ I said, and thereupon I sang my song of death.

“Although the Creeks were my enemies, I could not help admiring them.  They were fine, handsome men of a merry and open nature, and their women were beautiful, and full of pity towards me.  One night, while I was lying sleepless beside their camp fire, one of their maidens came and sat by my side.  Her face was strangely lovely; her eyes shone with tears; and a little golden crucifix on her bosom glittered as the firelight played upon it.

“‘Maiden,’ I said, ’your beauty is too great to be wasted on a dying man.  Let me die without tasting the delights of love.  They would only make death more bitter to me.  You are worthy to be the squaw of a great chief.  Wait till you can find a lover with whom you can live in joy and happiness all your life.’

“‘Are you a Christian?’ asked the maiden.

“‘No,’ I replied.  ‘I have not betrayed the faith of my forefathers.’

“‘Oh, you are only a wicked heathen,’ she exclaimed, covering her face with her hands and weeping.  ’I have been baptised by my mother.  I am Atala, daughter of Simaghan of the golden bracelets, and the chief of this band.  We are going to Cuscowilla, where you will be burnt.’

“And with a look of anger, Atala rose up and went away.”

Here Chactas for a moment became silent.  Tears rolled from his blind eyes down his withered cheeks.

“Oh Rene, my son,” he said, “you see that Chactas is very foolish in spite of his reputation for wisdom!  Why do men still weep, even when age has blinded their eyes?  Every night Atala came to see me, and a strange love for her was born in my heart.  After marching for seventeen days, my captors brought me to the great savannah of Alachua, and camped in a valley not far from Cuscowilla, the capital of the Creeks.  I was bound to the foot of a tree outside the town, and a warrior was set to watch over me.

“But in the evening Atala came, and said to him, ’If you would like to go hunting, I will look after the prisoner.’

“The young warrior leaped up, full of joy at being relieved by the daughter of his chief, and when he had gone, Atala released me.

“‘Now, Chactas,’ she murmured, turning her face away from me, ’you can escape.’

“‘I do not want to escape,’ I cried, ‘unless I can escape with you!’

“‘But they will burn you,’ she said.  ‘They will burn you to-morrow!’

“‘What does it matter,’ I exclaimed, ‘if you do not love me?’

“‘But I do love you,’ said Atala, and she bent over and kissed me.

“Then with a wild look of terror, she pushed me away from her, and staggering up to the tree, she covered her face with her hands, and sobbed, rocking herself to and fro in her grief.

“‘Oh, my mother, my mother!’ she sobbed.  ’I have forgotten my vow.  I cannot follow you,’ she said, turning to me.  ‘You are not a Christian.’