"I am educated beyond my class. I speak French. I can read and write, but no one knows what I can do, because I have lived as an Indian woman in order to avert suspicion from my child. All my children died except Flower. She was my baby,--pure white, as you see, and so pretty! Miss Le Moyne, who educated Flower, knew the truth. We agreed upon terms. Miss Le Moyne would have gone to the poorhouse if it had not been for the money I gave her every week for the care of Flower. And yet she would have betrayed the secret she swore by her crucifix to keep, if death had not struck her dumb just in time!" "But why," interrupted Carolina, "did you not come forward after Flower’s marriage and tell the La Granges of her honourable birth? It is a proud heritage to have the blood of kings run in her veins." Onteora shook her head. "The time was not ripe. _It needed you to open their eyes_. Now they will listen because Fleur-de-lys has found a friend! You have rescued her from their contempt. You have rescued my grandson from blindness--a blindness I knew the moment I looked at him. And for that reason I have a gift for the daughter of the Lees--a gift she will not despise!" Onteora disappeared and when she came back she held in one hand two silver coasters, beautifully carved and inscribed in French, "From the Marquis de La Fayette to his friend Moultrie Lee, Esquire, of Guildford, 1784." And in the other a large silver tankard engraved, "To Major-General Gadsden Lee, of Guildford, from his obliged friend, George Washington, 1791." Carolina’s shining eyes were lifted from the massive silver pieces to Onteora’s face. The woman nodded. "The famous Lee silver! I have it all! It was I who removed it and hid it here. It was in 1866, before I was married. I tracked ’Polyte and her husband to its hiding-place and took it away. No one ever knew--not even my husband! I never knew why I kept it secret. I saw the rewards offered. I could have been rich. I could have dowered Fleur-de-lys so that even the La Granges would have welcomed her. But something told me to wait. Wait! Wait! Now, I know why. It was to give it to you in return for my child’s happiness! If I had returned it for the money, that money would have gone to help ruin the La Granges, and I should have come to you empty-handed!" The woman was barbaric in this speech. She showed her Indian blood, her Indian power, her Indian patience. Carolina reached out her hand and Onteora took it in both of hers. "What do you wish me to do?" Carolina asked, gently. "Take these," said Onteora with sudden passion, thrusting the documents toward Carolina, "and show them to the La Granges!" She sprang to her feet and folded her arms in a matchless pride. She was, in truth, an Indian. The rain had ceased and Carolina’s things were dried. Onteora helped her to dress, her eyes shining with delight at Carolina’s beauty, but she expressed nothing in words.