Mabel’s cheeks had regained a little of their ancient bloom in the fresh air of the morning; but at this unlooked-for address they blanched again, nearly to the pallid hue which grief had imprinted there.  Still, she looked kindly, though seriously, at Pathfinder and even endeavored to force a smile.

“Very true, my excellent friend,” she answered; “this was my poor father’s wish, and I feel certain that a whole life devoted to your welfare and comforts could scarcely repay you for all you have done for us.”

“I fear me, Mabel, that man and wife needs be bound together by a stronger tie than such feelings, I do.  You have done nothing for me, or nothing of any account, and yet my very heart yearns towards you, it does; and therefore it seems likely that these feelings come from something besides saving scalps and guiding through woods.”

Mabel’s cheek had begun to glow again; and though she struggled hard to smile, her voice trembled a little as she answered.

“Had we not better postpone this conversation, Pathfinder?” she said; “we are not alone; and nothing is so unpleasant to a listener, they say, as family matters in which he feels no interest.”

“It’s because we are not alone, Mabel, or rather because Jasper is with us, that I wish to talk of this matter.  The Sergeant believed I might make a suitable companion for you, and, though I had misgivings about it, —­ yes, I had many misgivings, —­ he finally persuaded me into the idee, and things came round ’atween us, as you know.  But, when you promised your father to marry me, Mabel, and gave me your hand so modestly, but so prettily, there was one circumstance, as your uncle called it, that you didn’t know; and I’ve thought it right to tell you what it is, before matters are finally settled.  I’ve often taken a poor deer for my dinner when good venison was not to be found; but it’s as nat’ral not to take up with the worst when the best may be had.”

“You speak in a way, Pathfinder, that is difficult to be understood.  If this conversation is really necessary, I trust you will be more plain.”

“Well then, Mabel, I’ve been thinking it was quite likely, when you gave in to the Sergeant’s wishes, that you did not know the natur’ of Jasper Western’s feelings towards you?”

“Pathfinder!” and Mabel’s cheek now paled to the livid hue of death; then it flushed to the tint of crimson; and her whole frame shuddered.  Pathfinder, however, was too intent on his own object to notice this agitation; and Eau-douce had hidden his face in his hands in time to shut out its view.

“I’ve been talking with the lad; and, on comparing his dreams with my dreams, his feelings with my feelings, and his wishes with my wishes, I fear we think too much alike consarning you for both of us to be very happy.”

“Pathfinder, you forget; you should remember that we are betrothed!” said Mabel hastily, and in a voice so low that it required acute attention in the listeners to catch the syllables.  Indeed the last word was not quite intelligible to the guide, and he confessed his ignorance by the usual, —­