Pauline replied, with gracious solemnity, that her Spirit had found good repose and had been comforted by the pleasant music.
"And when will the White Queen lead us against our enemies—the men of her own color, but not of her kind?" inquired the Chief with child-like eagerness.
Pauline hesitated an instant after the interpreter repeated the question. Then, recovering herself, she answered gravely:
"Today, Red Snake, the Queen rests from her long journey out of the Happy Hunting Ground. Tomorrow also. Upon the next day, perhaps, she will lead the warriors."
The little interpreter's keen eyes flashed understandingly as he left out the word "perhaps" in repeating her answer.
Red Snake was elated. He made profound salutations, promised that the war party would do her honor, and hastened away to announce the news.
The interpreter lingered, pretending to smooth the door rug. He looked up suddenly and his eyes met Pauline's with an expression of friendly interest. Instinctively she accepted the tacitly offered friendship.
"You are a white man—you speak English," she said.
"Part white—part red. You speak all white," he added significantly.
"Of course," she whispered, stepping to his side. "I am not a Queen— not a Spirit. I do not know why they believe I am. But I must get away—to Rockvale, to Mr. Haines's ranch, to the white people anywhere. You will help me?"