“For God’s sake say what you have come to say and be done with it!” cried Edwards.
The Indian laughed.
“Many a white man, in the old days, has begged an Indian to end it all quickly and have done with it. But,” he added with triumphant insolence, “the rabbit that is caught by the fox does not dictate to his captor. I, Natachee the Indian, in my own way will tell you, Donald Payne, what I have come to say.”
As the Indian spoke that name, the man, known as Hugh Edwards, sprang to his feet with a cry.
Natachee watched the effect of his words with cruel satisfaction.
When the Indian’s victim had gained some control of his tortured nerves and had dropped weakly into his chair again, the red man said with savage irony:
“I regret, in a way, that Miss Hillgrove is not here to listen to my story.”
The white man, with his head bowed in his hands, winced.
“It would add much to my pleasure if I could watch her enjoying it with you.”
Hugh Edwards groaned as one in torment.