"What were you going to the store for, Jennie, and what were you to tell me?"
The girl looked earnestly into his face. "I saw him!" she gasped. "He was there! He has been here for some time! See—" and she drew the keen knife from the folds of her shawl. "It is sharp, my mother's knife. What she tried to do I will finish. She only scarred his breast, and died for it; I will go deeper and reach his heart."
A cold chill passed through Keith's frame as he listened to these terrible words, and observed the passion which possessed her soul. He could hardly believe it possible that this was the same gentle Jennie, the apt scholar, of whom he had hoped so much. His mind went back to one fearful night, seven years before, when he first met her, and saved her. He saw again her dead mother, with her lifeless babe in her bosom, the result of the renegade squaw-man, the vile serpent in human guise, who now menaced his flock. Jennie was a child of eight, alone with the dead in that desolate place. He had brought her to Klassan, where she had lived ever since, cared for by the Indians. They loved the maiden, but could not always understand her, with that dreamy, far-away look in her eyes. Little did they realize the deep longing in her heart, or the fire which was smouldering there, only awaiting an opportunity to burst forth. At last the time had arrived, and she stood ready with flashing eyes to carry out her design.
"Jennie," said Keith, calming his voice as much as possible, "how long have you been thinking of this?"
"Ever since that night," she replied, "when I saw my poor mother and sister lying cold and dead. I said in my heart that some day I would meet him and kill him."
"And you told no one of what was in your heart, Jennie?"
"No. The Indians would only have laughed at me for thinking such a thing."
"But why did you come to me?"
"The bell told me to come, and I felt you would understand. He hates you and would like to kill you. I thought you would be glad if I killed him."
Keith placed his hand to his forehead, while a strange helplessness took possession of him. Was this, then, the result of years of prayerful instruction of the truths he had tried to instil into her childish mind? Turning to her he said: