“If ever you get into the hands of those red devils, be not alarmed: it isn't so bad as it seems. If you saw me now, in the big buffalo-cloak of a medicine man, after smoking dozens of pipes of peace with every one of the tribe, sitting at the door of my lodge, with miles of high prairie-grass rolling in waves towards the sunset, you would rather envy me than otherwise, and cry out, as I have often done, 'Away with civilisation!' “I am not scalped--I thought I should not be; the tribe (it wastes valuable paper to write their long name, but you will have heard it) the tribe know me too well. I make a capital white medicine-man. I might have escaped any day, but, pshaw! honour!--So I choose to see a little of the great western forests, until I know how my two red friends have been treated on Lake Winnipeg shore. But in no case is any harm likely to come to me, except those chances of mortality which are common to all. “You will receive this (which a worthy psalm-singing missionary conveys to New York) almost as soon as the news of our adventure reaches Europe. I send it to relieve you, dear nephew, and all friends, if I have any left, from further anxiety concerning me, and especially from useless search, as under no circumstances whatever shall I consent to return to Montreal until it seems to me good. “Therefore, stay in Europe as long as, or longer than, you planned, and God prosper you, Nathanael, my good boy. “Your affectionate uncle, “Brian Locke Harper. “I trust earnestly that this scrawl will reach Kingcombe Holm. Possibly, no more news of me may ever reach there.--Yet I fear not, for He who is everywhere is likewise in the wild western prairies; and life is not so sweet that I should dread its ending. Still, if it does end, remember me to my brother, my nieces, and all old friends, including Anne Valery. If living, I shall reappear sometime, somewhere. B. L. H.” “This is indeed happy news;--so far;” said Agatha, “though he seems in no cheerful mood.” “Melancholy was always his way at times.” “What a strange man he must be!” she continued, still thinking more of the letter than of anything else. “But”--and she turned to Nathanael--“your mind is now at rest? You will not need to go to America?” “Not just yet.” She looked at him a moment in surprise, for there was something peculiar in his manner. She felt half angry with him for sitting so still, and speaking so briefly, while she herself was trembling with delight. “Have you told Miss Valery?” He shook his head. “Ah, then, go at once and tell her, so happy as she will be! Do go.” “Presently. Come and sit down here. I want to talk to you, Agatha.” She let him place her by his side. He took her hands, and regarded her earnestly. “Do you remember what day this was to have been?” “Was to have been?” she repeated, and instinctively guessed what he had doubtless come to say. Her heart began to beat violently, and her eyes dropped in confusion.