“Listen to me,” said Marianson. “If I give you my boat, you must do exactly as I bid you.”
“I promise.”
“You must stay here until I bring it to you. I am going at once.”
“But you cannot go alone in the dark. You are a woman—you will be afraid.”
“Never in my life have I been afraid.”
“But there are Indians on the war-path now.”
“They will be in camp or drunk at the post. Your Sioux has left this part of the island. He may come back by morning, but he would not camp away from so much plunder. Sioux cannot be unlike our Chippewas. Do you think,” demanded Marianson, “that you will be quite, quite safe in the cave?”
Her companion laughed.
“If I find the cave unsafe I can leave it; but you in the dark alone—you must let me go with you.”
“No; the risk is too great. It is better for me to go alone. I know every rock, every bend of the shore. The pull back around the island will be hardest, if there is not enough wind.”