“Yes, dear father! only an hour ago. If you but knew—it was he who saved me. But for him—Father! he must not—he shall not die!”
“Saved ye? What do ye mean, gurl?”
“Hilloo! what’s all this rumpus?”
The familiar ejaculation, and its adjunct interrogatory, admonished me that a new personage had appeared upon the scene. The voice came from behind. On turning, I beheld the unexpected speaker—a man on horseback, who had ridden up to the bars; and having halted there was craning his neck into the enclosure—gazing upon the scene that was being enacted there, with a singular half-comic, half-satirical expression of countenance!
Chapter Twenty Six.
The Peacemaker.
Without knowing why, I hailed the arrival of this stranger as opportune. Perhaps his presence, added to the entreaties of that fair young creature—still urgent in my behalf—might prevent the effusion of blood. Indeed, I had already determined that none should be spilled by me—let the consequences be as they might; and whatever was to be the dénouement of this awkward affair, I had resolved that my rifle should have nought to do in deciding it. The piece had fallen to the “order arms;” the ill-omened birds had forsaken their perch; and, now soaring in the blue sky, almost beyond the reach of human vision, their movements were no longer heeded—neither by my adversary nor myself.
Turning away from the stranger—whom I had only regarded for a second or two—I faced again to the more interesting tableau in front of me. That, too, was rapidly undergoing a change. The squatter no longer clung to his rifle. The girl had taken it from his hands; and was hurrying with it into the door of the cabin. There was no hindrance made by my antagonist! On the contrary, he appeared to have delivered it over to her—as if the affair between us was to have a pacific termination, or, at all events, a respite.