“Will you tell me why you fear this?”
The question recalled her to herself, and she flushed a deep crimson, and buried her face in her fair hands.
Our hero regarded her wonderingly, but did not press her for a reply.
Presently she uncovered her face, and, without looking up, said:
“The chief is not willing I should leave this place, at least, until he sees fit to remove me himself.”
The truth flashed upon Robert at once. He realized that that great rough man wished to appropriate this delicate and lovely blossom to himself. His very soul revolted at the thought, and he inwardly vowed that if ever he escaped, his first duty should be to set at liberty this suffering maiden.
“Cannot your uncles protect you from a fate like this?” he at length asked.
“They would if they dared; but you doubtless realize that they, too, are in his power. He has but to say the word and they die, and in that case my lot would be a hundred-fold worse.”
“Cowardly wretch! Let me but regain my liberty, and I swear before Heaven I will put to rout this miserable gang of thieves!” said Robert, passionately.
“You would do a noble act, for others suffer as well as myself. I am in no immediate danger, for my uncles have made the chief take an oath that he will not press his attentions until I am of age. But I pray Heaven that I may die before that time. I will die! for I will never, never be that bad man’s wife!” she exclaimed, clasping her hands, and in a voice of agony.