importance. While I
esteem, respect, nay, reverence you, almost as much as I reverence
my own dear father, it is impossible that I should ever become your
wife--that I--"

The change in her companion's countenance was so sudden and so great,
that the moment the effect of what she had uttered became visible in the
face of the Pathfinder, Mabel arrested her own words, notwithstanding
her strong desire to be explicit, the reluctance with which she could
at any time cause pain being sufficient of itself to induce the pause.
Neither spoke for some time, the shade of disappointment that crossed
the rugged lineaments of the hunter amounting so nearly to anguish as to
frighten his companion, while the sensation of choking became so strong
in the Pathfinder that he fairly griped his throat, like one who sought
physical relief for physical suffering. The convulsive manner in which
his fingers worked actually struck the alarmed girl with a feeling of
awe.

"Nay, Pathfinder," Mabel eagerly added, the instant she could command
her voice,--"I may have said more than I mean; for all things of this
nature are possible, and women, they say, are never sure of their own
minds. What I wish you to understand is, that it is not likely that you
and I should ever think of each other as man and wife ought to think of
each other."

"I do not--I shall never think in that way again, Mabel," gasped forth
the Pathfinder, who appeared to utter his words like one just raised
above the pressure of some suffocating substance. "No, no, I shall never
think of you, or any one else, again in that way."

"Pathfinder, dear Pathfinder, understand me; do not attach more meaning
to my words than I do myself: a match like that would be unwise,
unnatural, perhaps."

"Yes, unnat'ral--ag'in natur'; and so I told the Sergeant, but he
_would_ have it otherwise."

"Pathfinder! oh, this is worse than I could have imagined! Take my hand,
excellent Pathfinder, and let me see that you do not hate me. For God's
sake, smile upon me again."

"Hate you, Mabel! Smile upon you! Ah's me!"

"Nay, give me your hand; your hardy, true, and manly hand--both, both,
Pathfinder! for I shall not be easy until I feel certain that we are
friends again, and that all this has been a mistake."

"Mabel!" said the guide, looking wistfully into the face of the generous
and impetuous girl, as she held his two hard and sunburnt hands in her
own pretty and delicate fingers, and laughing