The boy accepted this with the same unchildish quiet. 'I wouldn't be afraid,' he said.

Theodosia saw a change in the Indian's face. A ripple that vanished at once, not pity or sympathy, but a softening. A shiver ran through her.

'That's enough, Gampy,' she said sharply. 'Don't bother our guest with foolish questions.'

'But I want to ask him some more about the good place where the bird goes.'

'You don't know what you're talking about, darling. What does he know of such matters?' She was careless whether she affronted the Indian or not. It was necessary to efface that unnatural old look from the child's face. 'If you want to ask these questions, save them for the Sabbath; the rector will explain to you.'

'But he doesn't, Mama. I can't understand what he says. He uses long words. I don't like him. I like Wabasha——'

They both turned at a soft sound. The Sioux Chief had risen. There was quiet force in his tall figure. 'I go,' he said, with simple dignity. He raised his hands shoulder-high, palms upward. 'May the Great Spirit be ever near you'. He added strange and yet musical syllables: invocation or farewell? Theo could not tell, though she felt their message, and they had beauty.

Gampy struggled to run forward, crying, ' Please don't go, Wabasha'. Theo put a gentle arm around the boy and held him back.

The Indian, with quick soundless step, disappeared through the door.

At once Eleanore, who had been hovering nervously in the hall outside, burst in on them. 'Ciel!' she cried. 'He is gone, then, le sauvage! He vanish into the forest like a shadow. What did he want with you, Madame? Is he dangerous?'

Theo smiled faintly. 'No, he was not dangerous. He brought me a message from the West.'

'And he told me about the Bird of Death,' added Gampy softly.

Eleanore i tared. 'Bird of Death! Qu'est-ce que e'est que ça? Death—la Mort——' She made the sign of the cross, her voice rose: 'But then he will attack us! He has his men hidden in the forest, he goes to get them. We shall be massacred yet, Madame. You will see.'

'That's silly, Eleanore,' cried Gampy. 'Wabasha was a good man, wasn't he, Mama?'

'Yes'. Theodosia tightened her arm around his thin little body. 'But he said many foolish things. He is not a Christian, you know. He is very superstitious, like—well, like our blacks here. You know how they believe in conjuh?'

Gampy shook his head stubbornly. 'It's not the same. And, anyway, conjuh does work sometimes. Old Maum Chloe can make it rain, and she can make cows sick, and——'