has never done them harm, and I know,--yes, I know it well enough, though
they won't believe it,--that he keeps the Indians from hurting them; but
they hate him and curse him; and oh! I wish I was away, where I should
never hear them speak of him more. Perhaps they don't know anything about
him at the Falls, and then there will be nobody to call me the white
Indian's daughter."

"And does Mr. Bruce, or his wife, know of your desire to leave him?"

"No," said Telie, her terrors reviving; "but if you should ask them for
me, then they would agree to let me go. He told the Captain,--that's
Captain Forrester,--he would do any thing for him; and indeed he would,
for he is a good man, and he will do what he says."

"How strange, how improper, nay, how ungrateful then, if he be a good
man," said Edith, "that you should wish to leave him and his kind
family, to live among persons entirely unknown. Be content, my poor maid.
You have little save imaginary evils to affect you. You are happier here
than you can be among strangers."

Telie clasped her hands in despair: "I shall never be happy here,
nor anywhere. But take me," she added eagerly, "take me for your own
sake;--for it will be good for you to have me with you in the woods,--it
will, indeed it will."

"It cannot be," said Edith, gently. But the maiden would scarce take a
refusal. Her terrors had been dissipated by her having ventured so far on
speech, and she now pursued her object with an imploring and passionate
earnestness that both surprised and embarrassed Edith, while it increased
her sympathy for the poor bereaved pleader. She endeavoured to convince