"Oh, Peggy, my darling, how I love you! Whereever you are, dear, wherever I am--oh, always think of me a little!"
That was all.
A faint colour suffused Peggy's cheek for just a moment. Then she sat up, and the noble hound anxiously licked her face.
But she had made no reply.
Meanwhile the mêlée went merrily on, as a Donnybrook Irishman might remark.
Fiercely and wildly both sides fought, using as weapons whatsoever came handiest.
But soon the savages were beaten and discomfited with, sad to tell, the loss of one life--that of a savage.
Not only Jake himself, but Roland and Mr. Peter were now on the scene of the recent conflict. Close to Peter's side, watching every movement of his lips and eyes, stood Benee, the Indian who had saved the children.
Several times Peter looked as if he felt uneasy, and once he turned towards Benee as if about to speak.
He said nothing, and the man continued his watchful scrutiny.