“So young, and yet with no fear of death!”

The young girl overheard the muttered soliloquy, and made answer to it—

“To the unhappy death is welcome.”

“Unhappy?”

“I have told you that all I love are dead?”

“Yet death is terrible.”

“Your name?”

“Alice Rody.”

With a cry of fiendish delight, Wacora grasped the maiden’s arm.

“You, the daughter of that accursed man—the daughter of that demon in human form! Then, by the Great Spirit above us! by the ashes of my ancestors, you shall die! My own hand shall inflict the blow.”