The scout gave a start, and muttered to himself:
“She means Sam Wilson’s cabin; and little Ruth whom she would like to murder. Well, I’m glad I’ve found so much out. I guess, Min, you won’t get a chance to murder her, and Rushing Water, as you call him, won’t find a bride in that quarter. To my sartin knowledge she’s promised to Ned Tapley, and he won’t be cut out by a red-skin, I don’t believe.”
“Does the white maiden care for the chief?” demanded the Wizard.
“No. Her heart is given to one of her own race. She will never willingly go to the lodge of Rushing Water.”
“That’s a fact,” muttered the scout. “She’s hit the truth once, Susannah.”
“Then why need the Red Rose fear, so long as the white maiden cares not for him? Let her do her best to win back the love she has lost.”
“The Red Rose can do nothing. The time for her to work upon his heart, has gone by. But when he brings her to his lodge she shall die. Minora has sworn it by the Great Spirit. To-night with his warriors he has gone to fetch his bride. Before the sun comes again the sky will be red with the flames of the burning lodge, and all the pale-faces will die, but her.”
The scout gave a start which almost brought him to his feet. He had learned now, whither it was that the red-skins were bound. Little need was there now to consult with the Wizard as he had intended. Everything was plain to him.
He looked eagerly about him for a chance to steal away without being observed, but the moon was shining so brightly that he saw that he could not do it without being observed. So, though anxious to hurry away as soon as possible, he was obliged to remain quiet and listen to the remainder of the conversation.
The Wizard was silent for the space of a minute and then he said: