"Dead!" As the exclamation broke from her, the girl looked at the half-breed with eyes in which gleamed a sudden fear. Then hope came to her as she remembered the shots that she had heard. "But," she protested, "he was firing on you as you left. It cannot be that he——"
"Non!" broke in the half-breed. "Dat man was with you he fire onlee once, den he die. Dose shots dey come from zee wood, an' I not know who fire dem. Eet was strange, I not know eef there be one man or more, so I run aways wit' you."
He had more to say upon that particular matter, but Helen Yardely had no ears for his words. Her hope was completely shattered by the half-breed's explanation of those pursuing shots. From them, believing they had come from her lover's rifle, she had argued with certainty that he had survived the attack, that he was alive; and now——
Dead! As the word beat in her brain, she was overwhelmed by a feeling of despair; and bowing her face suddenly in her hands gave way to her grief. Great sobs shook her shoulders, and scalding tears welled in her eyes. Her lover had indeed gone to his death after all, had given his life for hers as at the very beginning of their acquaintance he had risked it to the same end of saving her!
The callous half-breed was disturbed by the utter abandon of her grief. In his brutal nature there was a stirring of unusual compunction, and after watching her for a moment, he strove to console her, speaking in a wheedling voice.
"No need to weep lik' zee rain in spring, mees! What ees one man when men are as zee leaves of zee forest? Dis man dead! True—but eet ees a small ting—zee death of a man. An' I tak' you to anodder man——"
"You will what?" Helen looked up sharply as she asked the question. There was a light of wrath struggling with the grief in her eyes and the half-breed was startled by it.
"I tak' you to anodder man who weel lov' you as white squaws desire. He——"
"Who is this man?" she asked, suddenly interrupting him.
But the half-breed developed a sudden wariness.