While they were still full of wonder and anger at her words, she passed quickly from among them, and took her way back to her palace by the lake. She had gained her ends; from that expedition she would not return until by some covert act she had put it out of the power of the tribe to continue at amity with the French; but the fiercest exultation in her breast was at the thought of the suspicion she had aroused against Gi-en-gwa-tah—a suspicion which should be carefully fanned until it burst into a flame that would consume him. It was now sunset; Gi-en-gwa-tah would not return until nightfall, and there was little fear of his even learning any thing about the expedition until morning. Then it would be too late for him in any way to thwart her.
That had been a long, dreary afternoon to the unhappy chief. When they reached their place of destination he left his companions to their sport and wandered away into the forest, anxious to be alone with the host of strange thoughts which had suddenly forced his mind into such restless activity. He could not have explained the feelings which tortured his heart; but, even in his untutored state, his faculties were singularly sensitive and imaginative. He was suffering the horrible grief and jealousy a civilized man might, when the first doubt in regard to the woman he loved arose in his mind—a doubt that she had never returned his affection—that, back in the life of which he knew so little, lay the only dream of love her heart had ever known.
There came, too, for the first time, a fear that she employed her supernatural gifts to further her own ends, her ambition and her hatred. He did not doubt the gifts ascribed to her, but he began to understand how all her powers tended toward absolute dominion, and he was stunned to see this woman, whom he had looked upon as a creature of a higher sphere, prove herself capable of using her prophetic wisdom as a means of personal aggrandizement.
But, even with the idea that she had loved the French Governor, there came no thought of accepting the means of revenge in his power against the man. By joining her plans the opportunity would have offered itself; but a reason like that could not tempt him to urge his people to break their pledge and plunge into a causeless war with those he knew to be friends.
So, in the midst of these torturing reflections, the long afternoon passed away, and in the dusk of evening he returned to his companions.
Their canoe sped swiftly down the lake, and once more Gi-en-gwa-tah entered his dwelling, but now dark shadows walked beside him and stood between him and the woman he had so blindly worshiped.
Mahaska received him with her brightest smiles, making not an allusion to what had happened, but conversing only of his day’s sport. She sat opposite him at the supper, spread, according to her habits, after the fashion of the whites, so gay and fascinating that he tried to think the dreadful thoughts of the day had been roused only by his own fancy.
He did not go down into the village, so no warning of the proposed expedition reached him, and Mahaska sat smiling at the success of her maneuvers as she furtively watched him.
The moon came up broad and full, and streamed into the apartment where they sat. Mahaska had an appointment at that hour, and, without deigning any explanation, she arose to go out.