"Would the Eagle fly from among his brothers," he answered reproachfully, "after he has journeyed so far to see them? The Cherokees would moan, and their hearts would be as lead within their breasts, did my brother do this. No, let the Eagle feast with us a little season, then he shall fly again." And with this I was fain to be content. But my lips parted that night in a faint smile as I thought of what my lady would say, could she but know that the pet and belle of London was to the Indians only a squaw--of less value than their bows, only useful to till the ground and carry the burden, the plaything of an idle hour. CHAPTER XVI A WILD DIANA I sat with my head upon my hands watching Winona, as with her nimble fingers she fashioned a pair of moccasins from some soft deerskin. Two months had I been here, the prisoner of the Cherokees. Manteo had started back with a party of savages the morning after our capture, bearing a short note from me to White, briefly telling him that we were prisoners among the savages, and that our ransom was fixed at a half-dozen hatchets, two swords, and some beads; also telling him that Lady Margaret Carroll was a prisoner in the hands of Lord Dunraven, further up in the wilderness; that I was helpless to stir hand or foot to aid her until the ransom was forthcoming, and imploring him to make what speed he could in sending the articles. I had heard nothing of the party since, and knew not what to think. It might be that in a country teeming with enemies they had fallen in some fight with a hostile band. Often in the dead of night I would toss and groan upon my pillow as I thought of Margaret, a prisoner in the hands of Dunraven somewhere in the depths of the unbroken forest, cut off from the world and all help, at the mercy of one who feared neither man nor devil. My fevered brain would conjure up every taunting phantom of fear and anguish that the ingenuity of man could devise. I would think of her struggling in his embraces, his kisses upon her lips, calling upon me for help and succor, with none to hear her cries, and at such times I would arise from my sleepless couch and with a silent guard, who never left me, I would pace the streets of the village until day. Often haggard and weary, I would never lie down to sleep, but would sit all night staring into the camp fire, building air castles and wondering what Margaret did. She was Bobby's but she could not prevent me from thinking of her, and weaving happy dreams, that at a touch would crumble and fall into dust.