He raised his head half fiercely. 'It will return. A time lies in the future when the echo of my words will deafen your hearing. You will come back to me then. Yes, you shall return, and pray for my aid.'
'I shall not need it. There will be one to protect me, stronger than you.'
He shivered as her words touched him. 'But I look forward, child. I gaze into the black shadow beyond. My eyes are clear in spite of age, while yours are blinded with mistaken trust.'
He cast off his weakness and faced her. The blanket crawled from his lean shoulders and rustled to the ground. The eyes shone wildly, with that strange, prophetic instinct of the uncivilised mind.
'I tell you, girl, that time shall come. Even now it is not far distant. Then you will seek me out, you will creep to me with a prayer on your white lips. You shall come as a suppliant to me, seeking vengeance on the head of him you now proudly call your life support.'
Night had now fallen; the forest had grown black and weird; shivering spindles of the northern lights crept tremulously, with whispering movements, backward and forward across a blue-white sky.
Menotah stepped back in all her happiness. Then her bright laugh rang forth, drowning, for the minute, soft moanings of the night breeze in the tree tops.
'Laugh, girl; yes, laugh. It gives me joy to hear your happiness once again. In the coming sorrow I shall never listen to that sound which has so often brought warmth to my weak heart.'
She laughed again, while the pines shook and muttered. 'You shall hear my laughter while you walk in life,' she cried merrily, 'unless you would stop your ears to it. Old Father, I shall leave you to your sleep. You are speaking on strange things to-night.'
She picked the blanket from the ground, and arranged it, with soft, womanly attention, round his body. Then she took his arm and led him to the door.