In two minutes more the little settlement was surrounded by the savages. William, who had been aroused later than the black, sought to save Mr. Harris, but failed, and seeing no chance of escaping through the line of Indians, he rushed into the room of Rebecca, and opening a small door took refuge in a cellar beneath. Rebecca, it was known, incurred little personal risk. She was of the tribe of the invaders; and vengeance upon the whites, and the spoliation of their goods, were the objects of the attack. Scarcely had William reached his hiding-place when the chief of the small tribe of invaders presented himself at the door of Rebecca’s room, and demanded William. “He is not in my room. Do you think men are to be found in my bed-chamber?” “A white man may be found any where in time of danger,” said the savage. “But I do not care for the fellow; I want to know where Harris has hidden his goods—especially where he has concealed the rum.” “I do not keep his goods nor hide his rum.” “But you know where he hides them, and you shall tell me, or I—” “Or you will kill me—kill a woman! Brave chief! Has the influence of the white man reduced our tribe to that?” “I did not threaten you, Dahona; but I will strike where you can feel as keenly as on yourself. Tell me where these goods are secreted.” “I will not; and you dare not take vengeance on me.” “Look, Dahona, through yonder window!” The girl turned her eye to the window, and by the broad blaze of the burning building she saw a stake erected, near the river, and numerous savages were heaping around it quantities of wood. “Is that for me?” “No—for Harris.” The young woman checked the exclamation which was rising to her lip: “And you will release him if I will point out to you the goods; you will do no personal injury to any one, and spare the rest of the property?” The Indian hesitated; but the lie which seemed to struggle for utterance, against the habits of his race, was spoken: “I will spare all—” “And the people of the tribe—will they spare?” Just then a band of savages was seen conveying Mr. Harris down to the stake. The spirit of Rebecca was shaken. She did not know, indeed, _where_ any goods were concealed, and the small amount which had been put aside was then brought forward by some of the Indians, who were more occupied with the rum they had secured than with the other articles. She looked through the window again, and Harris was at the stake, and, with impatient yells, the savages were making ready for the sacrifice. “Spare him—only spare the life of Harris, and take all!”