Melton was about to refuse, but catching Sadie’s eye, he changed his mind, and made the required promise. It was not extended to Tom Bantry, and Cooney Joe, who were tightly bound, and placed under guard. Sadie was coming forward with the intention of speaking to Melton, when the bushes parted near her, and the face of the demon of the woods appeared, peeping out among the leaves. CHAPTER XIII. GUESTS NOT INVITED. Sadie was not easily frightened, but it required the effort of all her resolution to keep her from uttering a cry of alarm. The young captain saw that she was deeply moved and ascribed it to her grief at the situation in which she found herself placed. But she recovered herself by a great effort of the will and came forward, giving her hand frankly to the man she loved and who loved her as dearly. “I am deeply grieved that you have come into this danger for my sake, Charles,” she said, softly. “But have no fear, for I will save you at any hazard. Indeed, it is done already, for I have given my word and you are safe.” “Safe! What do you mean, Sadie; what promise have you given?” “Do not be angry with me, Charles,” she said, sadly. “I am sorry that it is forced upon me but—I have promised to be the wife of William Jackwood.” “Black Will! Gracious heaven, Sadie, it cannot be. What madness is this?” “I was forced to do it. They threatened you and your brave companions with a horrible death. I had no one near to advise me and I could not—I could not see you die.” “You should have spoken to me first,” he cried, wildly. “You knew that I loved you. I have never dared to tell you until now, and ought to have spoken. What is death to dishonor? What a life you have doomed yourself to bear, that I may live. I would sooner die a thousand deaths than bear this bitter burden.” “Charles!” she cried. “You make my load too heavy for me to bear. How could I see those who had incurred this peril for me, given up to satisfy the bloody passions of these desperate men. My father is dead—I am alone in the world and my life would have been a weary one at best, if I had refused to yield. He told me that if I was obstinate, I should stand by and see you suffer. I could not have borne that, at any rate.” “You should have remained in the camp of Black-Hawk, who is a brave man, although an Indian. My dear girl, I can not blame you for what you have done. It was in all kindness of heart, but it was wrong for you to yield. The lives of men who are ready at any time to die for the right should be as a feather’s weight compared to your sacrifice. As I say, so would Joe Bent and Tom Bantry, who are more hated by these men than I am.”