Gray heard his name called.
It was Vanbloem—he came for help; he had removed his wife into the dilapidated building—Amayeka was with her; ere long he hoped to behold his first-born; but he was in dismay at the sudden pain and peril of Anne, who, hurried by the journey, and terrified at the prospect of her husband leaving her, had been brought sooner into her trouble than she expected.
Gray assisted Vanbloem in removing certain comforts from his wagon to the deserted mission-garden; Amayeka came out under the dripping trees, and received them from her master’s hand, for the poor girl was now in the capacity of a domestic.
God was gracious. Vanbloem held a living girl in his arms ere the night had passed; but it was impossible for his wife to be removed, and he would not leave her desolate.
How Lyle cursed the woman!
“Oh!” thought Gray, “that I might stay with them, and wait my doom from the hands of my countrymen.”
He liked Vanbloem; he had told him his history, and now proposed remaining with him, and stating to Vander Roey his resolution not to turn traitor.
“And,” said Vanbloem, “what reply do you expect?”
“Perhaps,” said Gray, very quietly, “he may order me to be shot on the spot.”
Vanbloem looked at the young deserter. “You are no coward,” thought he. “You are wrong,” he continued, speaking aloud; “he would not shoot you, but they would brand you with a coward’s name. I pity you from my soul. May God have compassion on you, and help you! I see the finger of Providence in what has just occurred to myself. I will remain in the desert with my wife and Amayeka.”