“Blessed be God!  They must have escaped, though the means are not known to us.  I thought I saw a Frenchman on the island, June.”

“Yes:  French captain come, but he go away too.  Plenty of Indian on island.”

“Oh, June, June, are there no means to prevent my beloved father from falling into the hands of his enemies?”

“Don’t know; t’ink dat warriors wait in ambush, and Yengeese must lose scalp.”

“Surely, surely, June, you, who have done so much for the daughter, will not refuse to help the father?”

“Don’t know fader, don’t love fader.  June help her own people, help Arrowhead —­ husband love scalp.”

“June, this is not yourself.  I cannot, will not believe that you wish to see our men murdered!”

June turned her dark eyes quietly on Mabel; and for a moment her look was stern, though it was soon changed into one of melancholy compassion.

“Lily, Yengeese girl?” she said, as one asks a question.

“Certainly, and as a Yengeese girl I would save my countrymen from slaughter.”

“Very good, if can.  June no Yengeese, June Tuscarora —­ got Tuscarora husband —­ Tuscarora heart —­ Tuscarora feeling —­ all over Tuscarora.  Lily wouldn’t run and tell French that her fader was coming to gain victory?”

“Perhaps not,” returned Mabel, pressing a hand on a brain that felt bewildered, —­ “perhaps not; but you serve me, aid me —­ have saved me, June!  Why have you done this, if you only feel as a Tuscarora?”

“Don’t only feel as Tuscarora; feel as girl, feel as squaw.  Love pretty Lily, and put it in my bosom.”

Mabel melted into tears, and she pressed the affectionate creature to her heart.  It was near a minute before she could renew the discourse, but then she succeeded in speaking more calmly and with greater coherence.

“Let me know the worst, June,” said she.  “To-night your people are feasting; what do they intend to do to-morrow?”

“Don’t know; afraid to see Arrowhead, afraid to ask question; t’ink hide away till Yengeese come back.”

“Will they not attempt anything against the blockhouse?  You have seen what they can threaten if they will.”

“Too much rum.  Arrowhead sleep, or no dare; French captain gone away, or no dare.  All go to sleep now.”

“And you think I am safe for this night, at least?”

“Too much rum.  If Lily like June, might do much for her people.”

“I am like you, June, if a wish to serve my countrymen can make a resemblance with one as courageous as yourself.”

“No, no, no!” muttered June in a low voice; “no got heart, and June no let you, if had.  June’s moder prisoner once, and warriors got drunk; moder tomahawked ’em all.  Such de way red skin women do when people in danger and want scalp.”

“You say what is true,” returned Mabel, shuddering, and unconsciously dropping June’s hand.  “I cannot do that.  I have neither the strength, the courage, nor the will to dip my hands in blood.”