Polly laid her cheek against her grandmother’s knee, a caressing, disarming gesture that was very sweet. “Listen,” said Granny, more gently. “I got to confess something. When Simon Kenton come and told me he was making up a party of our boys to go and rescue a blue-eyed child he’d seen in a tepee over in the Ohio country, Polly, I prayed--it wa’n’t you. I did so! Many’s the hour I’d spent on my knees, asking God to see that you was dead, thanking Him for taking your parents before they knew what had come to you--you so pretty and tender, just coming into womanhood. And when runners come in ahead to say it really was you they’d found and were fetching back, I says to myself: To what? What is there in life for a girl who’s been the--the plaything of savage brutes? What decent man would marry her after this, and let her mother his children? Ah, I’d seen captives brought back before, and I knew what it meant! “But Simon Kenton made me ashamed of those black thoughts. He told me that out here in the wild places men had come to realize that purity is something which comes from within, not without; that a woman’s honor couldn’t possibly be harmed by anybody or anything, except herself. And then he told me that one of the finest young men in his company had already bespoke your hand. Eh, that was a wonderful hearing, a brave and beautiful hearing!” Polly sprang erect, and spoke proudly. “But I did not wish to be married to one of his young men!” [Illustration: Polly sprang to her feet and spoke proudly: “But I did not wish to be married to one of his young men!”] “No, poor child,” said the other, with great gentleness. “’Twas a feeling that did you credit, as all thought. But since Ezra Todd was willing to take the chance--you see the importance of getting you married, and quickly, too! A fine, upstanding fellow, Ezra! Look what he’s done already: cleared his land, planted it to corn and orchard, bought you a good stout nigger to do the work many a housewife has to do for herself, built this comfortable cabin, given you clothes such as any town lady might envy. Ah, Polly, have you no gratitude?” “Yes,” said the girl. “Well, I should hope so! And what a wedding it was! The liveliest I ever saw, though I’ve seen a-plenty of gay ones, had a few myself, for that matter. Neighbors riding in from miles about, Simon Kenton and all his hunters to help with the roof-raising, Master Boone himself come to do honor to my grandchild--for Dan Boone knows well what it is to lose a girl to the savages, and get her again. Such dancing and eating and drinking--and courting! I vow there wasn’t a sober man in our neighborhood for the whole week. And even some of the women.”