tearing off my scalp) by a present tribute of
whisky and gunpowder, and by the promise of more when our association
came to an end.

"About twelve miles northward of the little silver-mining town of Tubac
we came upon an Apache encampment. I at once discovered two white men
among the Indians. These were the captive priests.

"One of them was a Frenchman, named L'Herbier. The other was an
Englishman, named Penrose. They owed their lives to the influence of two
powerful considerations among the Indians. Unhappy L'Herbier lost his
senses under the horror of the night massacre. Insanity, as you may have
heard, is a sacred thing in the estimation of the American savages;
they regard this poor madman as a mysteriously inspired person The other
priest, Penrose, had been in charge of the mission medicine-chest, and
had successfully treated cases of illness among the Apaches. As a
'great medicine-man,' he too is a privileged person--under the strong
protection of their interest in their own health. The lives of the
prisoners are in no danger, provided they can endure the hardship of
their wandering existence among the Indians. Penrose spoke to me with
the resignation of a true hero. 'I am in the hands of God,' he said;
'and if I die, I die in God's service.'

"I was entirely unprovided with the means of ransoming the
missionaries--and nothing that I could say, or that I could promise, had
the smallest effect on the savages. But for severe and tedious illness,
I should long since have been on my way back to Arizona with the
necessary ransom. As it is, I am barely strong enough to write this
letter. But I can head a subscription to pay expenses; and I can give
instructions to any person who is willing to attempt the deliverance of
the priests."

So the letter ended.

Before I had read it, I was at a loss to know where to go, or what
to do, when I leave St. Germain. I am now at no loss. I have found an
object in life, and a means of making atonement to Stella for my own
ungracious and unworthy words. Already I have communicated by telegraph
with Mr. Murthwaite and with my sailing-master. The first is informed
that I hope to be with him, in London, to-morrow morning. The second is
instructed to have the yacht fitted out immediately for a long voyage.
If I can save these men--especially Penrose--I shall not have lived in
vain.

London, September 15.--No. I have resolution enough to go to Arizona,
but I have no courage to reco