"No, me no savvy."
"What, don't know his name?"
"Me no savvy."
"But how did the chief get this picture?"
The old woman looked at her silently for a while, as if collecting her thoughts. Then, in broken English, she told her tale of the mean trick which had been imposed upon them. So vivid was the description that Constance knew it could be Pritchen and no one else. It came to her with a shock, for she feared him more than all the others, and somehow she felt that he was responsible for all the trouble which had taken place. How could she go to him and ask him what he knew? Would he not only laugh at her?
At length, sick at heart, she arose to go. Before leaving, however, she shook hands with the chief, and turning to his wife, said:
"I want to thank the chief for giving medicine to heal my father."
"You fadder?" asked the woman in surprise.
"Yes, the missionary got it. My father was very sick, and it made him better. You tell chief that?"
"Me tell um by um by. Me glad." Suddenly she added: "You all same Clistin?"