“Noble and generous boy! how do you win my very soul to you!” returned the officer, as he again affectionately embraced him. “No, no, I cannot do that, great and severe as is this sacrifice of inclination. But what battle do you speak of?”
“Letter tell him all,” said the youth. “Not say Wau-nan-gee say so.”
“Wau-nan-gee,” said Ronayne, impressively, “no doubt there is danger. We all know it. Was it not you who brought me a line from Maria this morning?”
“Yes, my friend. Pee-to-tum say attack him council. Wau-nan-gee tell him Maria write—afraid to say much.”
“No doubt, then, we shall be attacked before many days are over; but thank God, she at least is safe. Wau-nan-gee, you must take care of her in the camp of your women. When all is safe, you will come to me with her.”
“Mr. Ronayne,” called a voice near the river, “where are you?”
It was Captain Headley.
“Good by, Wau-nan-gee,” said the officer, “I must go. Give my love to Maria, and tell her I am sick to see her,” and he put his hand over his heart, “and that I will join her when all danger is over; to-morrow night I shall have a letter for her. You can contrive to steal into the fort at night, and into my room unnoticed, Wau-nan-gee?”
“Spose him come,” again urged the Indian, “Wau-nan-gee find him little tent for Ronayne and his wife for two three days? Wau-nan-gee wait upon him, bring him food. Maria say come—must come.”
“No, Wau-nan-gee, my dear friend, you know I cannot as a warrior think of myself alone; I must do my duty; but I am called. Good by, my noble boy. To-morrow night at twelve. God bless you! I leave my wife wholly to your care.”