Chapter Eighty Eight.
A fresh Éclaircissement.
As we rode in counter-directions, I met the chief almost on the instant. I was slightly surprised that he passed, without taking notice of me! He could not fail to guess whither I was going: as I was heading straight for the huntress; and here was no other object to have drawn me in that direction. He did not even appear to see me! As he passed at a rapid pace, his eyes were bent forward upon the butte, or occasionally turned towards the horseman who galloped by his side. The strange horseman was an Indian. From the absence of the war-costume, I could tell he had not been engaged in the late conflict, but had just arrived from some distant journey—no doubt, a messenger who brought news. His jaded horse and dusky garb justified this conjecture. Equally desirous of shunning an encounter, I passed the two riders in silence, and kept on my course. As I drew near to the huntress-maiden, I was speculating on the reception I might expect, and the explanation I ought to give. How would she receive me? Not with much grace, I feared; at all events, not till she should hear what I had to say. The ambiguous and ill-timed appearance of the Chicasaw, combined with the sinister and dramatic incident which followed, must have produced on her mind eccentric and erroneous impressions. The effect would naturally be to falsify, not only the protestations of her lover, but my own testimony borne in his behalf, and indeed all else she had been told. It was not difficult to predict an ungracious reception. As I approached, she gave over caressing the dog; and once more leaped to the back of her horse. I was in fear that she would ride off, and shun me. I knew I could easily overtake her; but a chase of this nature would scarcely have been to my liking.
“Marian Holt!” I said, in a tone of gentle remonstrance, “your suspicions are unjust; I have come to offer you an explanation—”
“I need none,” interrupted she in a quiet voice, but without raising her eyes. A gentle wave of her hand accompanied the words. I fancied both the tone and the gesture were repellant; but soon perceived that I was mistaken. “I need none,” she repeated, “all has been explained.”
“Explained! How?” I inquired, taken by surprise at the unexpected declaration. “Wa-ka-ra has told me all.”
“What!—of Su-wa-nee?” A gesture of assent was the answer. “I am glad of this. But Wa-ka-ra! how knew he the circumstance?”
“Partly from the Mexican to whom your people have communicated them—partly from the captive Arapahoes. Enough—I am satisfied.”