“It is,” said the Governor, that “in the event of a war, you will endeavour to prevent the murder of women and children by the Indians, as well as the wounded and prisoners, taken in battle.” “I promise,” said Tecumseh, “for my soul delighteth not in the blood of women and children; and, Great Chief, remember, if it becomes necessary, extend to the red men the same clemency you ask for the whites.” “I promise,” said the Governor, and bidding Tecumseh farewell, with a hope that the friendly relations then existing, might not be disturbed, he was soon on his way to Vincennes, meditating upon the interview, and deploring the war which he saw fast gathering, and which was to prove disastrous to the whites, and ruinous to the Indians. CHAPTER XVIII. “While through the broken pane the tempest sighs, And his step falters on the faithless floor, Shades of departed joys around him rise, With many a face that smiles on him no more; With many a voice, that thrills of transport gave, Now silent as the grass that tufts their grave!” ROGERS. Nearly a year had elapsed since the commencement of our story, and the night was cold and rainy, when two friends were regaling themselves with pipes by a comfortable fire in a small building which stood apart from the few houses at that time constituting the village of Bowling Green. This place was even then beginning to show marks of civilization, for log cabins had in many instances, been superseded by well built frame edifices, and taste and culture were now exhibited in many of their walks and gardens. As the friends sat smoking, the wind ever and anon whistled as it hurried fitfully past, causing them to shrug up their shoulders, and draw still nearer to the fire. “It makes me feel cold,” said Earth, “to hear the wind whistle as it does, for many and many's the time I've slept out, just sich a night as this,—and I think, Rolfe, you have had a small touch at it too.” “Yes, Earth, but my experience is nothing in comparison with yours. I often think of the time we passed together in the woods and always with pleasure; though we have had some singular adventures. We ought to have found that girl, Earth.” “Yes, we ought so, Rolfe; I have never felt satisfied about it. We ought to have found her, and, but for that lying Prophet, we should.” “I think now,” said Rolfe, “that she was concealed, and that he knew it, but he deceived me at the time.”