"But, you cannot return to her! She is the wife of another! Over and over again you said it, in the voice of the fever-spirit."
"No," replied the man softly. "To her I cannot return. But, listen; I start to-morrow for the white man's country. To find the man for whom I work, and tell him of the bird's-eye.
"Soon I shall come again into the woods. I cannot marry you, for only evil would come of it. I will bring you many presents, and always we shall be friends—and more than friends, for you shall be to me a sister and I shall be your brother, and shall keep you from harm.
"To-morrow I go, and you shall promise me that whenever you are in trouble of whatsoever kind you will send for me—and I shall come to you—be it far or near, in the night-time or in the daytime, I will come—Jeanne, look into my eyes—will you promise?"
The girl looked up, and a ray of hope lightened the pain in her eyes.
"You will surely return into the North?"
"I will surely return."
"I will promise," she whispered, and, side by side, in the silence of the twilight, they left the clearing.
CHAPTER XXXII