"Can't tell what them varmints 'ill do, miss. They're very unsartin critters. But if they do git at it ag'in an' the Big Lakes win out I'm afeered it'll go purty hard with us. We got outer their clutches by a close shave, an' I'm thinkin' they're rather sore over it. It seems to me it's that Injun woman, Nadu, wot's doin' much of the mischief. She's a vixin, that I kin tell it by her eye."
"Oh, don't speak of her!" and a shudder shook Madeline's body, while her face turned pale. "She is terrible! It was she who sent me adrift in the canoe. She hates me, and I do not know why."
"An' did she do that deed?" Dan cried. "Did she send ye through the rapids?"
"Yes; it's only too true. But please don't speak about it again. I want to forget it."
Madeline rose and examined the meat cooking upon the stove.
"I think we might give our patient a little of this soup now," she said; "it's not very strong, but he should have something nourishing as soon as possible."
"Right ye are, miss," Dan replied, as he sprang to his feet. "I'll jist hold his head up a little while ye feed 'im. Thar, that's good!" he exclaimed, when the task had been accomplished. "That's the fust taste of food he's had since I don't know when. I'll jist hike off now, an' leave ye a while on watch."
When the door had closed, and Dan's footsteps had died away in the distance, Madeline drew a stool up close to the cot. Nancy du Nord had left some time before, so she was alone with Norman. Quietly she sat by his side, and looked down earnestly into his face. How often she had seen it in her day and night dreams through those long, terrible years. It had been an inspiration to her when hope had almost fled. Oh, if he would only open his lips and eyes, speak to her, and look upon her! She longed to tell him everything, to clear the cloud of doubt from his mind. But no sign did he give. He lay there helpless and unconscious. His right hand was lying by his side. Reaching over she held it in her own. A thrill shot through her heart as she did so, and a flush suffused her cheeks. It was the same hand that had pressed hers so fondly one night at the little garden gate so long ago, and it was the same strong, firm hand that had reached out, gripped her, and drew her from the icy waters of death. Suddenly she bent her head, lifted the hand to her lips, and kissed it fervently. Then she quickly dropped it, and looked around, fearful lest someone had seen her.
Thus she sat keeping faithful watch as the hours wore slowly away. Occasionally she arose and gave Norman some of the soup, which by this time was much stronger and contained more nourishment. When at length Dan returned she was still at her post and smiled upon the trapper as he entered the room.
"You've been away a long time," she said. "You must have found much to occupy your attention."