"Well, and then?" the hunters exclaimed, in a panting voice.
"And then I see flames, blood, and nothing more, but a man carrying me off through the night on an impetuous steed."
The maiden, after uttering these words in a broken voice, hid her head in her hands. There was a lengthened silence, during which the Canadians attentively observed her: at length they drew themselves up, and Harry laid his hand on her shoulder: she raised her head.
"What would you of me?" she said.
"Ask you a question."
"Speak!"
"Since you have grown up have you never tried to clear up your doubts by questioning Red Cedar?"
"Yes," she answered, "once."
"Well?"
"He listened to me attentively, let me say all I had to say, and then gave me a glance of undefinable meaning, shrugged his shoulders, and answered, 'You are silly, Ellen; you must have had a bad dream. That story is absurd.' Then he added, in an ironical voice, 'I feel sorry for you, poor creature, but you are really my daughter.'"