"Enough," he said; "go!"

She was absent for some moments. He was beginning to become uneasy, when
she made her appearance again, clad in her old faded black dress. Her
face was very pale, and her eyes were swollen, but she placed his hand
on her shoulder, and bidding him not to fear to lean upon her, for she
was quite strong, led the way.

"You look more like yourself now, and yet--blast it all!--you don't
either," said Dunn, looking down upon her. "You've changed in some way.
What is it? Is it on account of that Injin? Couldn't you have found a
white man in his place?"

"I reckon he's neither worse nor better for that," she replied bitterly;
"and perhaps he wasn't as particular in his taste as a white man might
have been. But," she added, with a sudden spasm of her old rage, "it's
a lie; he's NOT an Indian, no more than I am. Not unless being born of
a mother who scarcely knew him, of a father who never even saw him, and
being brought up among white men and wild beasts--less cruel than they
were--could make him one!"

Dunn looked at her in surprise not unmixed with admiration. "If Nellie,"
he thought, "could but love ME like that!" But he only said:

"For all that, he's an Injin. Why, look at his name. It ain't Low. It's
L'Eau Dormante, Sleeping Water, an Injin name."

"And what does that prove?" returned Teresa. "Only that Indians clap a
nick-name on any stranger, white or red, who may camp with them. Why,