"Wingenund will show you the way to the big river," answered the chieftain, in his deep bass.
"Run away? No, never! That would be cowardly. Heckewelder, you would not go? Nor you, Zeisberger? We may yet be of use, we may yet save some of the Christians."
"Save the yellow-hair," sternly said Wingenund.
"Oh, Jim, you don't understand. The chief has come to warn me of Girty. He intends to take me as he has others, as he did poor Kate. did you not see the meaning in his eyes to-day? How they scorched me! Ho! Jim, take me away! Save me! Do not leave me here to that horrible fate? Oh! Jim, take me away!"
"Nell, I will take you," cried Jim, grasping her hands.
"Hurry! There's a blanket full of things I packed for you," said Heckewelder. "Lose no time. Ah! hear that! My Heavens! what a yell!" Heckewelder rushed to the door and looked out. "There they go, a black mob of imps; a pack of hungry wolves! Jim Girty is in the lead. How he leaps! How he waves his sledge! He leads the savages toward the church. Oh! it's the end!"
"Benny? Where's Benny?" cried Jim, hurriedly lacing the hunting coat he had flung about him.
"Benny's safe. I've hidden him. I'll get him away from here," answered young Christy. "Go! Now's your time. Godspeed you!"
"I'm ready," declared Mr. Wells. "I—have—finished!"
"There goes Wingenund! He's running. Follow him, quick! Good-by!
Good-by! God be with you!" cried Heckewelder.