"Chief," said the old man, "the time has come. We are ready to listen to you with the deepest attention."
Rising and bowing to all, the chief, who affected stoical gravity, but who had great difficulty in controlling his voice, spoke—
"Lagrenay's wife was never ill. Evening Dew was carried off by Tom Mitchell from the squatters."
"Are you quite positive?" asked the grandfather.
"I am positive. The news was brought to me just now by a courier in whom I have every confidence. He saw all that happened without himself being seen."
A deep silence prevailed. None interrupted the old man.
"Allow me," he said, "to speak frankly to you, chief. You are my relative; I remember your birth, and love you."
"My father is good, and knows I love him," replied the chief.
"I know it; but pardon me if I speak very plainly. There is a hesitation in your words which alarms me excessively. I am sure you have not told us all you think."
The chief bowed his head.