The quick disaster stunned her.
There was no longer hope within her for the moment. But, with the rise of the roar of triumph, that part of her nature which joyed in the facing of odds snatched down her hands, lifted her head, and set the old fires sparkling in her eyes.
“White! White! White!” was the cry lifting on all sides. “A white woman of the Settlements! Wis-kend-jac has sent the White Doe! A sign! A sign! The Great Spirit would know the slayer of Negansahima!”
“The White Doe shall choose!”
CHAPTER XXIII THE PAINTED POST
When McElroy's eyes fell upon the woman he loved the breath was stopped in his throat. For a moment it seemed he would suffocate with the surge of emotions that choked him. Then a great sigh filled his lungs and a cry was forced from him which pierced the uproar like an arrow.
“Maren!” he cried, in anguish; “Maren!”
It drew her eyes as the pole the faithful needle, and across the fire they stared wide-eyed at each other.
Then De Courtenay's silver voice cut them apart.