“The old woman's daughter is fond of moonlight,” said the sentinel, as she passed on; “she likes not her cage.”
The remark was not heard by the maiden, and Oloompa made no reply; for at that moment, a warrior was seen passing along, and summoning the red men again to council. No sooner was the glad call heard, than there was hurrying past to the place of meeting. Oloompa kept his eyes upon the maiden, as she now stood looking upon the town, and started forward apparently as if he designed to follow the crowd. The warrior on duty was relieved, his time having expired, and forgetting to mention that a prisoner was absent, he hurried away to the council. Oloompa, passing by where the captive stood, whispered to her to follow him, and moved slowly on in the direction in which all seemed hurrying. When he had gotten without sight of the cabin he left, and found that most of the crowd had passed him, he stopped, and pointing out a small path to the maiden, told her to follow it to the walls of the town, where he would meet her. He then passed on to the council, and, remaining only for an instant, proceeded by a circuitous route, to the place designated. The captive maiden awaited him, and upon his arrival, ran forward to express her gratitude. Oloompa motioned her to be silent, and assisting her out of the camp, they proceeded to the spot where he had left the hunters. Upon nearing it, a hoarse voice cried out, “who comes there?” and the barrel of a rifle was seen to gleam in the moonlight.
“Oloompa and the captive maiden,” was the answer.
Rolfe rushed forward, but drew back when he beheld the figure before him.
The captive maiden cried, “Richard! it is Gay!—it is Gay, though she seems not to be;” and in an instant more she was clasped to the bosom of Rolfe.
A few moments passed:—the first wild burst of feeling consequent upon their meeting had scarcely subsided, when Rolfe, calling her attention to Earth, told her that he was the friend to whom she owed so much, and bade her thank him. “A thousand, thousand thanks!” she cried, extending her hand to Earth. “They are a poor offering for so much service, yet they are all that Gay now has to give.”
Earth was much affected, and replied not to her, but turning to Rolfe, said,—“Rolfe, I wish you had not told her any thing about thanking me; you know that to make a friend happy, is as much as Earth ever desires.”
“Hunters,” cried Oloompa, who, since he delivered up Gay, had been quietly looking on, “listen;—the hour has now come,—we have travelled a long path to its end,—we part for ever.”
“Noble, noble Oloompa!” cried Rolfe, cordially grasping his hand, “oh! say not so; come, love us, and dwell with us, and let us be friends. All that the white man has, shall be yours.”
Oloompa replied:—“See you yon fires which burn in the distance? There are encamped the enemies of Oloompa's race. They come to drive the red men from their town, and force them still farther into the depths of the forest. Oloompa saw this, yet he brought the maiden to her lover. He served the white man; he has redeemed his promise, and is now free. Farewell!” and saying so, he turned to depart.