The answer seemed to come in Mrs. Dare’s words again: “The dear Jesus could have killed every one of those men, and come down from off the cross; but he would not, for he loved us so much he was willing to bear all, to teach us how we could forgive each other. He not only forgave them, but asked his Father to forgive them also.”
The breeze, the morning sunlight, the little birds, and the dancing waves, all seemed to be saying over and over to him, “The dear Jesus could have killed every one of those men; but he loved us all so much he was willing to bear all that to teach us how we could forgive each other.” Was it, then, such a great thing to be able to forgive? He knew he could have every one of those pale-faces killed; every one would expect it. He never for one moment included Virginia when he thought of the white people. To him she was a being all by herself. As he turned, he saw her kneeling by the dead body, her hands clasped, her face upturned. It was white as marble. She must be speaking to the Great Spirit. Those treacherous hands could strike her from where they had struck his father. For the first time Iosco saw they were in danger, and he sent forth a great cry into the forest, which he knew would bring his people. Virginia knew what it meant. She rose and stood waiting.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XI.