"Well?"
The man hesitated, and then said a few words, and the Indian replied in a strange jargon with peculiar aspirated syllables.
"He says," continued the interpreter, hesitatingly, "to ask if she is to come back."
"She?"
Bryton's face flushed, as the priest looked at him curiously.
"You have known those people before?"
"I—my brother and I were lost once in the forest here. We—well, we were made to feel we had trespassed; but some one—a sort of missionary among them—made them lead us to the plain. It would have been better if my brother had never come back."
"And—?"
The priest noticed Bryton's hesitation; so did the Indian, for he walked direct to him, and pointed to the ring he wore, and looked from the ring to Bryton's face.
"Tell him," said the American, "that she is a man's wife, and lives in a lovely land."