“I know not that I understand you,” said the renegade, evasively.

“To be more explicit, then,” rejoined Ella, “I trust that you, Simon Girty, whose acts hitherto have been such as to draw down reproaches and even curses upon your head, from many of your own race, may now be induced, by the prayer of her before you, to do an act of justice and generosity.”

“Speak out your desire!” returned Girty, as Ella, evidently fearful of broaching the subject too suddenly, paused, in order to observe the effect of what had already been said.  “Speak out briefly, girl; for yonder stands Wild-cat awaiting me.”

“Oh, then, let me implore you to listen, and God grant your heart may be touched by my words!” rejoined Ella, eagerly, as she fancied she saw something of relentment in his stern features.  “Look yonder!  Behold that poor old man!—­whose head is already sprinkled with the silvery threads of over fifty winters—­beside whom stands the companion of his sorrows—­both of whose lives have been spent in quiet, honest pursuits—­whose doors have ever stood open—­whose board has ever been free to the needy wayfarer.  You yourself have been a partaker of their hospitality, in their own home—­which, alas!  I have since learned is in ashes—­and can testify to their liberality and kindness.  Is this a proper return therefor, think you?”

“But did not he, yon gray-headed man, then and there curse me to my face?” returned the renegade, fiercely, in whose eye could be seen the cold, sullen gleam of deadly hate; “and shall I, the outcast of my race—­I, whose deeds have made the boldest tremble—­I, whose name is a by-word for curses—­now spare him, that has defied and called down God’s maledictions on me?”

“Oh, yes! yes!” cried Ella, energetically.  “Convince him, by your acts of generosity, that you are not deserving of his censure, and he, I assure you, will be eager to do you justice.  Oh, return good for evil, where evil has been done you, and God’s blessing, instead of His curse, will be yours!”

“It may be the Christian’s creed to return good for evil,” answered Girty, with a strong emphasis on the word Christian, accompanied with a sneer; “but by ——! such belongs not to me, nor to those I mate with!  Hark you, Ella Barnwell!  I could be induced to do much for you—­for I possess for you a passion stronger than I have ever before felt for any human being—­but were I ever so much disposed to grant your request, it is now beyond my power.”

“As how?” asked Ella, quickly.

“Listen!  I will tell you briefly.  When first I saw, I felt I loved you, and from that moment resolved you should be mine.  Nay, do not shudder so, and turn away, and look so pale—­a worse fate than being the wife of a British agent might have been apportioned you.  To win you by fair words, I knew at once was out of the question—­for one glance showed me my rival.  Besides, I was not handsome, I knew—­had not an oily tongue,