Even as the short, stinging crack of Wetzel’s rifle broke the silence, Jonathan saw the fierce expression of Half King’s dark face change to one of vacant wildness.  His arms never relaxed from their folded position.  He fell, as falls a monarch of the forest trees, a dead weight.

Chapter XXV.

“Please do not preach to-day,” said Nell, raising her eyes imploringly to Jim’s face.

“Nellie, I must conduct the services as usual.  I can not shirk my duty, nor let these renegades see I fear to face them.”

“I have such a queer feeling.  I am afraid.  I don’t want to be left alone.  Please do not leave me.”

Jim strode nervously up and down the length of the room.  Nell’s worn face, her beseeching eyes and trembling hands touched his heart.  Rather than almost anything else, he desired to please her, to strengthen her; yet how could he shirk his duty?

“Nellie, what is it you fear?” he asked, holding her hands tightly.

“Oh, I don’t know what—­everything.  Uncle is growing weaker every day.  Look at Mr. Young; he is only a shadow of his former self, and this anxiety is wearing Mr. Heckewelder out.  He is more concerned than he dares admit.  You needn’t shake your head, for I know it.  Then those Indians who are waiting, waiting—­for God only knows what!  Worse than all to me, I saw that renegade, that fearful beast who made way with poor dear Kate!”

Nell burst into tears, and leaned sobbing on Jim’s shoulder.

“Nell, I’ve kept my courage only because of you,” replied Jim, his voice trembling slightly.

She looked up quickly.  Something in the pale face which was bent over her told that now, if ever, was the time for a woman to forget herself, and to cheer, to inspire those around her.

“I am a silly baby, and selfish!” she cried, freeing herself from his hold.  “Always thinking of myself.”  She turned away and wiped the tears from her eyes.  “Go, Jim, do you duty; I’ll stand by and help you all a woman can.”

* * *

The missionaries were consulting in Heckewelder’s cabin.  Zeisberger had returned that morning, and his aggressive, dominating spirit was just what they needed in an hour like this.  He raised the downcast spirits of the ministers.

“Hold the service?  I should say we will,” he declared, waving his hands.  “What have we to be afraid of?”

“I do not know,” answered Heckewelder, shaking his head doubtfully.  “I do not know what to fear.  Girty himself told me he bore us no ill will; but I hardly believe him.  All this silence, this ominous waiting perplexes, bewilders me.”

“Gentlemen, our duty at least is plain,” said Jim, impressively.  “The faith of these Christian Indians in us is so absolute that they have no fear.  They believe in God, and in us.  These threatening savages have failed signally to impress our Christians.  If we do not hold the service they will think we fear Girty, and that might have a bad influence.”