“Far otherwise—he has been true to you!”
“It is false, sir. You know not, perhaps, that I was myself witness of his base treachery. I saw him—”
“What you saw was a mere accidental circumstance; nor was it of his seeking. It was the fault of the Chicasaw, I can assure you.”
“Ha! ha! ha! An accidental circumstance!” rejoined she, with a contemptuous laugh; “truly a rare accident! It was guilt, sir. I saw him with his arms around her—with my own eyes I saw this. What farther proof needed I of his perfidy?”
“All that you saw, I admit, but—”
“More than saw it: I heard of his faithlessness. Did not she herself declare it—in Swampville? elsewhere!—boasted of it even to my own sister! More still: another was witness to his vile conduct—had often seen him in her company. Ha! little dreamed he, while dallying in the woods with his red-skinned squaw, that the earth has ears and the trees have tongues. The deceiver did not think of that!”
“Fair Marian, they are foul calumnies; and whoever has given utterance to them did so to deceive you. Who, may I ask, was that other witness who has so misled you!”
“Oh! it matters not now—another villain like himself—one who—O God! I cannot tell you the horrid history—it is too black to be believed.”
“Nay, you may tell it me. I half know it already; but there are some points I wish explained—for your sake—for Wingrove’s—for the sake of your sister—”
“My sister! how can it concern her? Surely it does not? Explain your meaning, sir.”