“Noble Prince, noble Prince, you are such a fine horse, Prince. If he does not love me, you do, don’t you, Prince? “You were naughty, Prince, to run away from him that day. If I had only let him say what was in his heart that day, I would have been so happy. Yes, I would have been so happy! so happy!” And Mollie went to sleep from mere exhaustion. Segwuna and Mollie’s mother were seated beside her canopied bed and their eyes filled with tears as they watched the darling of their hearts suffering such anguish. It can come to one only once in a lifetime. Many times Doctor Greydon and Mrs. Greydon held lengthy consultations when the disease took its insidious hold on the now wasted frame of their beautiful daughter. It was such a delicate thread that held all that was dear to them on earth. The image of little Mollie, their only darling child, as she gladdened their souls with her childish prattle passed through their minds. For hours at a time, they would sit and watch silently at the bedside and in silence pray to the One that knows the hearts of all: “to deliver from our midst the Dread Messenger that hovers over our child.” Mrs. Greydon would sometimes tearfully say: “William, maybe it was all for the best that Mr. Barclugh came to us, for God can send him back as a messenger from our Colonies and tell the truth to our cousins beyond the sea. That is what Segwuna says and she is almost endowed with the intelligence of the supernatural.” “Yes, yes, my dear, if Mr. Barclugh is the gentleman that I think he will tell the truth, and how our child would rejoice in any good that he could do for our country. I would give almost any personal sacrifice if I could restore my little Mollie to her strength. Yes, I would give up my own life for hers,” and the great, strong patriot turned his head and his voice choked and the noble heart of the man was overcome with his emotions. The long days and the longer nights of the vigil for the dear one dragged along and along and the father and the mother seemed to age perceptibly under the strain. But Segwuna never lost her hope. She would say in her sweet voice: “The Great Spirit of Segwuna’s fathers will watch over our little one and bless her days with happiness.” The malady had its course and one morning Mollie awoke and said in a whisper, for she was very weak: “Mama, where have I been?” “You have been sleeping sweetly, my dear,” replied the mother softly: “Oh, I had such a sweet dream. I saw his face, and he looked at me with such kindly eyes,” came from Mollie as though an angel were speaking, and she closed her eyes and smiled as though she were an infant again. “God be praised,” whispered her mother. “My darling girl may be saved.” Now the days seemed brighter and the nights shorter. Mollie began to gather strength. In a week she was able to see her father and talk to him for five minutes while she held his hand in hers.