Hans Vanderbum asked the question in a lower tone, for the name was well known to all present.
"A Huron Indian? Oh, yes; I know him well," replied the captive; her countenance lighting up. "He was well remembered in our neighborhood, and was a true friend to us all. Do you know him too? Though I suppose of course you do, from your asking me the question."
"Yaw, I knows him, and he knows me too, and we both knows each oder, so dat we are acquainted. Well, dat shentleman is hid off in de woods near here, and he has sent me in to l'arn what I cans about you."
The prisoner kept back the joyful exclamation that came to her lips, and said:
"Tell him that I am unharmed and hopeful, and trust that while he interests himself in me, he will not run into danger."
"Not run into danger!" repeated Hans Vanderbum; "dat is what Oonomoo lives on. He'd die in a week if he wan't into danger, out of grief. He don't do notting else; it's what he was made for," he added, growing enthusiastic in speaking of the Huron.
"I know he is a brave and true-hearted Indian, and is greatly esteemed by the Moravian missionaries. He hesitates at no risk when his friends are in danger."
"Ef he does run risk dey don't catch him, 'cause he knows how to run and fight, and ish shmarter dan de Shawnees. Where ish your parents?"
"My mother and sister happened to be absent on a visit to Falsington, which is fifteen or twenty miles distant from our place, while father, who is a Captain, is doing service somewhere on the frontier, in the American army. How thankful indeed I am that dear mother and Helen were away, for they have escaped this terrible captivity."
"You washn't left all alone?"