“You nearly killed me once, you know, Estelle,” the man went on, in the same hushed, almost wondering tones. “You fought me and you shot me. It was then I first learned to love you. We are a fierce race, we Telfairs, and we love fierce women. And you are fierce, Estelle, fierce as the wild Indians who brought you up. God!”--he laughed hoarsely--“to think that I--I, Brito Telfair, I who supped on the honey of women long before I became a man, I who have known courts and palaces and kings--to think that I should go mad over a wood-bred girl! But it’s true, Estelle; it’s true. You are my mate--hot and fierce and proud. You are mine and tonight at last I have you fast.” “Be not too sure!” Jack scarcely knew the girl’s voice, so deep and resonant it had become and so well had she mastered the intricacies of the English tongue. “Be not too sure. You thought so twice before--once in the midst of Fort Defiance and once when Metea and his bribed dogs turned me over to you. But both times you were deceived.” Brito shrugged his shoulders. “You saved yourself the first time, my beauty,” he said. “And I love you for it. Tecumseh saved you the second time and I hate him for it. Since then you have fought me off with your tale of a husband! a husband!” The man laughed savagely. “That game is played out. You have no husband! I have learned all the details at last. Marriage between a Catholic and a heretic who part ten minutes after the ceremony is no marriage. It can be annulled and it will be annulled.” “It never shall be!” “Ah! But it shall. Tomorrow you yourself will ask it. Tonight you are in my power--in my power, do you understand? I command at Fort Malden tonight. General Proctor and all my superiors have gone to crush those braggart Americans at Frenchtown. Tecumseh and his braves have gone with them. Winslow and his wife, they who have sheltered you here, are under arrest by my orders; they will be released with apologies tomorrow, but tonight they are fast and can not come to help you. You are mine--and tomorrow you will ask annullment.” Behind the curtains Jack stood tense and ready. The news that the British and Indians had marched against General Winchester appalled him. He knew what fearful havoc they would work if they could slip by night upon the confident sleeping troops. What could he do? How warn his countrymen? He could not leave Alagwa in peril. Nay! He could not leave at all. The road to the River Raisin led through the room, past Brito and the Indians without. Could he pass them? He could not overpower Brito without a struggle. And a single outcry would ruin all. He must wait--wait and watch. The game was not played out. Alagwa was no child. She might save herself and make it possible for him to escape with her to the American camp. With hard-set jaws he waited. Alagwa was speaking without tremor or fear. Scorn unutterable rang in her voice.