“You are, then, my brother's friend,” answered Margery, smiling so sweetly, that le Bourdon gazed on her with delight. “We are SO glad that he has come back! Five terrible nights have sister and I been here alone, and we have believed every bush was a red man!”
“That danger is over, now, Blossom; but there is still an enemy near you that must be overcome.”
“An enemy! There is no one here, but Dolly and myself. No one has been near us, since Gershom went after the bee-hunter, whom we heard was out in the openings. Are you that bee-bunter?”
“I am, beautiful Blossom; and I tell you there is an enemy here, in your cabin, that must be looked to.”
“We fear no enemies but the red men, and we have seen none of them since we reached this river. What is the name of the enemy you so dread, and where is he to be found?”
“His name is Whiskey, and he is kept somewhere in this hut, in casks. Show me the place, that I may destroy him, before his friend comes to his assistance.”
A gleam of bright intelligence flashed into the face of the beautiful young creature. First she reddened almost to scarlet; then her face became pale as death. Compressing her lips intensely, she stood irresolute—now gazing at the pleasing and seemingly well-disposed stranger before her, now looking earnestly toward the still distant forms of her brother and sister, which were slowly advancing in the direction of the cabin.
“Dare you?” Margery at length asked, pointing toward her brother.
“I dare: he is now quite sober, and may be reasoned with. For the sake of us all, let us profit by this advantage.”
“He keeps the liquor in two casks that you will find under the shed, behind the hut.”