“No: our General refuses, saying it would be an unheard of thing for the British to give up an ally for an act of warfare, and he will not listen to the Yankee demand.” “May be he says that because he cannot get the Indian,” suggested Maggie. “I am the Indian,” said Hemlock curtly, “and I asked him to bind me and send me to the American camp with a flag of truce, and all he said was, ‘He would sooner hear of Morton being hung than be guilty of such treachery to a faithful ally.’” “My, Hemlock! What made you be so cruel? That you have a feeling heart I know, for I have seen you cry over your daughter’s----” With a quick gesture Hemlock stopped her. “Speak no more of that. It was because of my love for my child that I tortured the wretch to death.” Here he paused, his features working with emotions that cast them into frightful contortions. “Oh, Maggie, I thought if I could have my revenge I’d be happy. I had my heart’s wish on the spoiler of my child and today I brained the villain that helped him, and I am more miserable than ever. My vengeance has done me no good. My child, my daughter, oh come to me!” The heart of Maggie melted with sympathy. She rose and resting one hand on his shoulder sought his with the other. “Take it not,” he said in a whisper, “it is the hand of blood.” “Hemlock, I dinna judge you as I would ane o’ oor ain folk, for the nature born with you is no like oors, let alane your upbringing, but I ken you to be an honest, and wronged man, with a kindly heart, and I would share your sorrow that I may lichten it.” The Indian was evidently touched. Grasping her hand he bent over it and pressed it to his lips. After a long pause, Maggie added: “If you would give up your heathen ways and turn to the Lord, your path would become clear.” “I once followed the Lord,” said Hemlock, “I learned of Him from my wife, and I taught my daughter to love Jesus, but when the cloud came and its darkness blinded me, I put away the white man’s God and went back to the ways of my fathers.” “Leave them again?” entreated Maggie. “Too late: I die as I am.” “But you are no going to die, Hemlock. You’ve many years to live.” “I die before the new moon comes; my oki told me so in a dream last night, and that is why I have come to talk with you about Morton. You love him?” Too honest to utter the “no” that came to her faltering tongue, Maggie’s head drooped and her face flushed. “I know you do,” Hemlock went on, “and I know he loves you, tho’ his heart has not told his head yet. I know not where he is; if I did, we would attack his guard and rescue him this night. They took him away from Fort Hickory and I have not got his track yet. When they find where he is I want you to give orders to my men when I am gone.” “This is beyond me, Hemlock.” “Listen: I have told my Indians they must save him and to obey you.” “Tell my brothers or my father.”