This brutal man suddenly grew softer at the sight of the girl; a flash of joy shot from his savage eyes, and his mouth, habituated to curses, opened gladly to utter gentle words. Frequently, when seated on the mounted slope, near the cavern, he talked with her for hours, taking an infinite delight in hearing the melodious sound of that voice whose charms he had hitherto been ignorant of.
Ellen, hiding her sorrows, feigned a delight which was far from her mind, not to sadden the man she regarded as her father, and who seemed so happy at seeing her by his side. Certainly, if anyone at this moment had an ascendency over the old pirate's mind, and could bring him back to the right path, it was Ellen. She knew it, and used the power she had acquired cleverly, to try and convert this man, who had only been a species of evil genius to humanity.
One morning, when Red Cedar, almost entirely cured of his wounds, was taking his accustomed walk, leaning on Ellen's arm, Father Seraphin, who had been absent for two days, stood before him.
"Ah, it is you, father," the squatter said on seeing him; "I was alarmed at your absence, and am glad to see you back."
"How are you?" the missionary asked.
"I should be quite well if I had entirely recovered my strength, but that will soon return."
"All the better; for if my absence was long, you were to some extent the cause of it."
"How so?" the squatter asked, curiously.
"You remember you expressed a desire some time back to live in the prairie?"
"I did."