Butler ground his teeth. If he did not again load the poor Indian with rude epithets, it was from excess of rage. Tahmeroo was neither fierce nor weak now. The iron of her nature was taking its white heat; all the fiery sparks had been shot forth, but she was dangerous to trifle with just then, even without arms, and so still.
Mary was pleading with her sister.
“You are wronging her, degrading yourself—throwing away your good name forever,” she said. “The poor feeling he calls love was given to her once, and you see how he outrages her now. Even though he had the power to make you his wife, her fate would be yours, Jane.”
Jane turned her back upon the gentle pleader, repulsing her with both hands.
“That young Indian is not his wife, I say,” she answered petulantly, and weeping, as much from annoyance as any remorseful feeling. “It takes something more than a savage pow-pow in the woods to bind an officer of the king. What does it amount to if she does call herself his wife?”
“Nothing, nothing whatever,” said Butler, interposing, while Tahmeroo stood proudly silent. “Such contracts never last beyond the moon in which they are formed. If the Shawnee chief would insist on giving me his daughter, am I to blame? Such hospitality is a habit of his tribe.”
“And dare you say that this is all the bond which unites you with this poor girl?” questioned Mary, with great dignity.
“Dare I say that?—of course I dare. She knows it well enough—can you think me a fool?”
“Yes,” said a voice, which made the audacious young man start, “if cruelty and falsehood are folly, you are the worst of fools. How dare you stand up in the face of high Heaven and disclaim vows yet warm on your lips? Jane Derwent, for your father’s sake, believe me. This very evening I, invested with sacred power by the church, married Walter Butler to this young girl. He came from the Lodge, where this ceremony was performed, directly here. I was myself coming to the island, thinking to rest in your cabin till morning, but his arm was strongest and he reached the shore first.”
“You hear him—you will believe this now!” said Mary tenderly, leaning over her sister.