"Yes," she replied, and she turned her head away from me. "What is it, Sir Thomas?" "Wilt thou, when thou raisest thy voice in prayer to God offer up one supplication for a wicked, sinful man, that he may triumph over the tempter, who daily and hourly besets him?" "Yes," she answered gently, and a tear dropped from her blue eyes. "I will pray for thee, Sir Thomas, that thou mayest fight a brave fight, and win a noble victory over thyself." And now we had left the canoe, and under the guidance of Manteo plunged again into the forest afoot. To my remonstrances that the lady could not endure the journey, he had turned a deaf ear. "Better that, than to fall into the hands of the Tuscaroras," he said stolidly. "Here in the woods Manteo can guard better against them than on the water," and so afoot we had gone. Margaret had made light of my gloomy forebodings. "Out upon thee, sir!" cried she archly. "One would think that I was some pretty toy, from which the rain would wash the paint, that I cannot keep the trail with thee in the forest." "Fair lady, perhaps thou wilt remember my warning when thou art footsore from the march," I answered. "But if thou art determined, come!" And I led the way after the Indian, with her at my side. The long journey was sweet to me, for I walked by her side much of the time. I helped her over some fallen log, or held aside an overhanging limb so that she might pass beneath it. Often I would bring down some wild fowl with the Indian's bow, with which I had become expert, and browning it upon the coals, would bring a choice piece to my lady, where she sat enthroned under some monarch of the forest, and dropping upon one knee, with mock humility would present it to her, while she with stately air, albeit with a merry twinkle in her eye, would accept it right royally. Both Manteo and I were her willing slaves, for the Indian had fallen under her spell too, and worshiped the very ground upon which she stood. Winona would have naught to do with Margaret, but scornfully and disdainfully held herself aloof, and to all her advances turned a cold shoulder. We were nearing our journey's end now, and as I sat brooding moodily over the camp fire, my head bent low over my hands, I thought bitterly of the future. I could not return to England and see Margaret become the bride of another. No, I would go back with Manteo into the wilderness after I had seen my lady safely upon her ship, and there I would spend the remainder of my life with the faithful Indian.