“I mean not Brito only. I mean any man who had—had compromise a girl. Suppose he refuse to take her to his lodge in honor?”
“Any man who did that would be a scoundrel. The girl’s father or brother or friend would call him out and kill him. But, as I say, Brito would marry Estelle, of course. And he wouldn’t need to do anything to compel her. She’d marry him willingly enough. You know it.”
Alagwa did not deny it. Jack’s assertion was correct; no Indian girl would refuse to marry a redcoat chief. But his earlier assertion concerning the loss of reputation gave her food for thought.
“And you?” she asked. “If you find her what will you do?”
“I? I’d take her home.”
“And would it not compromise her to travel so long and dim a trail with you?”
Jack flushed. “It isn’t exactly the same thing,” he answered at last, hesitatingly. “This is America and we are not so censorious. Europe is very different. Over here we think people are all right till we are forced to think otherwise. In Europe they think them bad from the start. And, of course, I’d protect her all I could. Brito wouldn’t. He’d be trying to make her marry him, you see, and I shouldn’t.”
The girl straightened suddenly in her saddle. “You—you do not want to marry her?” she faltered.
A cloud came over Jack’s face. “No!” he said, slowly. “No! I don’t want to marry her. I shall never marry anybody.”
Startled, the girl looked at him. Then her eyes dropped and for a little she rode silent. When the talk was resumed it was on other subjects.