Later on, they were in sight of the spot where they must part, and Phillips and Julie were awaiting them there. The light of the moon was wan now upon the prairie, for the dawn was spreading in silver across the eastern sky.
"My beloved must run no more risk, even for me," he said, leaning tenderly towards her.
She would be prudent, but she would always for his sake warn his friends of danger when she had knowledge of the same.
Again he breathed a low "Good-bye, my love," his eyes wistful, mournful and tender; and with Phillips at his side, then rode down a small gorge at the bottom of which were tangles of cedar and larch.
And as they rode suspecting naught of danger, several Indians hidden in the draggled bush arose and stealthily followed them.
CHAPTER VII.
A FIGHT; A CAPTURE; AND THE GUARDIAN SWAN.
ANNETTE with a tear in the corner of each eye, and Julie at her side, rode on till the two came within sight of the shining waters of the indolent Saskatchewan. As they rode leisurely along its banks, Annette, now sighing and now Julie, they heard the trample of hoofs, and turning saw approaching an Indian chief, well mounted.
"Ah, your chef, ma petite," Annette said, looking at Julie.
But Julie was well aware who the fast riding stranger was; and she was covered with the most becoming of blushes when her lover drew rein beside them.