“Mr. Shoshone, speak out! What do you want me to do?”
“My heart is all empty a-longin’ for you, and I want you to crawl in forevermore. I want you to be my wife.”
“Dear God! what is he saying? Oh, I can’t, Shoshone, I can’t!”
“Yes, you can; if you only will.”
“But I can’t, Shoshone, my good friend, and I will tell you why. I was married once, and my husband deserted me for another woman, and stole my child, my little boy. So I am not free, you see.”
“Yes, I see,” said Shoshone, swallowing hard. “Don’t say nothin’ more, Angel. I’m sorry I said a word. Try and forget it, will you, Angel? But if ever you need someone to fight or die for you, jes’ call on Shoshone, and I’ll do it, so help me—I will!”
Keeping his back to her, so that she could not see the bitter disappointment in his face, Shoshone started away, when Helen called him.
“Are you going away, Shoshone?”
“Yest, jes’ for a little while; jes’ out there in the rocks and lonesomeness. I wouldn’t want a woman to see me cry—and I’m d——d near it!” he added under his breath as he hastily escaped, while she held out her hands, saying sadly:
“You may never know it, Shoshone, but if I were free I would be your wife—faithful and loving.”