Prisoners of Chance

"I cannot encourage you to place much trust in such tenderness," I confessed sadly. "'T is not likely, despite her white face, and certain graces bespeaking knowledge of civilization, she will prove any less a savage than those she governs. She would not be here, able to control so wild a brood of wolves, if she were not of their breed in heart; nor do women chiefs have much choice against the vote of the tribe. I do not trust her, Madame; I studied her face--a fair one, I grant--as she stood in the sun upon the rock summit. It was hard set, and savage with the scent of blood and battle. No mercy led her to protect us then; like a great cat she prefers playing with her mice before killing. Has she been here while I slept?"

"No one has visited us excepting the old chief who led the assault; he did nothing but strike the Puritan, who sought speech with him."

She paused a moment, her head bent low; then she lifted her face to mine again, and I read within it the quick determination of her soul.

"Geoffrey Benteen, listen. What would you do to save her who was Eloise Lafrénière from such a fate of horror as now overhangs her?"

"Anything within the power of a man," I answered instantly, a painful throbbing at the heart. "I would even drive the saving steel into your heart to keep you unsoiled from the clutch of such foul hands. Ay! hard as the task must prove, yet I could do it, believing I performed the will of God as I struck the blow. But even for that I am helpless, as I possess no weapon."

I felt her hands touch mine, something cold being pressed against my flesh.

"I thank thee, Father, there is one whom I may trust even unto death," she sobbed prayerfully. "Take this knife, Geoffrey Benteen. The Indians did not think to search a woman for such weapons of war. If the moment comes when all hope is gone, when naught else is left, I pray you, as a helpless woman utterly dependent upon your aid, let that sharp point save me endless shame and agony. Have I your promise?"

"But--but why not ask this of your husband?" I questioned, shrinking, in spite of my belief in its righteousness, from the committal of so dreadful a deed.

"Surely he would better make answer for the necessity of so desperate a sacrifice."

Her dark eyes never wavered from my face, nor did her hands relax their confident grasp of mine.

"Not because I believe he would refuse, but he is of a temper changeable as the winds of Spring. I must rest in peace, not in perpetual doubting. You I trust implicitly; your word, once gravely given, will be kept to the death; nay, surely this is no time in which to practise deceit with each other, or act parts like mummers upon the stage. I know you love me even as of old. I know this, Geoffrey Benteen, and will abide in my extremity with no other promise than your own."