Wide enough awake now, the young man rose to his feet, and saw that Vic stood near, with the horses ready saddled.
“How close are they?” he asked.
“Not forty rods off,” was the startling reply, “an’ we’ve got to be off at once.”
Stepping along a few feet to where Marion lay in innocent slumber, Kent stooped and touched her arm.
“Marion,” he whispered, gently, “Marion, awake.”
The girl moved uneasily, and the loved voice mingling with her dreams, she murmured:
“Wayne, dear Wayne. Oh, be careful! They will kill you if they discover you. Have a care!”
“Poor child,” murmured her lover, “even her dreams are haunted by the thought of our foes. Marion,” he added, louder, “awake.”
She started up in affright, and collecting her scattered senses, asked what was wanted.
“We are forced to continue our journey,” answered Kent; “the Indians are near enough to render our presence here dangerous.”