"Come, I believe you. Speak, I am listening," said Arnal, whose brow brightened.
"This, then, is what has happened, my brother," resumed the girl, assuming a coaxing tone, and lowering her eyes, slightly blushing. "Three days ago we had stopped sooner than usual, and the camp had been formed on the bank of a river that we were to cross the next day. You remember it, do you not?"
"Yes, I remember it. Go on."
"Gueyma had been designated by yourself to go with some warriors to seek for a ford. The sun was still high in the horizon; the day's journey had not been long, and I was not tired. Obliged to watch the formation of the camp, you had left me alone, and I became very dull. I at first intended to go and talk with the palefaces, who are so good, and towards whom you manifest so many marks of friendship."
"You would have done well to have paid them a visit," interrupted Arnal, with some emotion.
"I did not dare, my brother; I feared to be blamed by you. Then, as you did not return, and as I became more and more dull, the idea seized me to go and gather flowers on the bank of the river; was it bad?"
"No, if you had no afterthought."
"What afterthought?" asked the young girl, ingenuously.
Arnal bit his lips.
"Nothing, nothing; go on," said he.