more changing than a woman's mind."

"Others may change; I cannot, Nahatton; you know I would not leave you
if I could help it."

"Could help it! can your father's right control nature's law? Oh,
Felice!" he added, smiting his breast, "that which I feel for you is
like the fires from the sun--the hurricane from the south--the tide of
the ocean;--I cannot resist it."

"Nahatton! Nahatton! you know I will return to you."

"Let me place this around your neck then," said he, detaching from his
own a chain made of porcupine quills, and curiously woven. "My mother
made it. She said it was a charm, and would keep me true to my own
people. I wore it in France, and I have returned to my tribe."

"Not about my neck, Nahatton," said Felice, as he raised his hands to
clasp the chain; "it looks too savage--bind it on my arm.----Why do you
hesitate?" she asked, as she stood with her arm extended, and her sleeve
pushed up.

"It looks too savage! Already ashamed of your mother's blood! Oh, there
is poison in your veins!" and as he said this he broke the chain, threw
it down, and crushed it under his foot.

"Oh, Nahatton, I did not mean that;--I am not ashamed of my indian
blood--I will make you any promise--I will swear, on my knees I will
swear to return to you."

"Swear then upon this," said he; and he took from his bosom a silver
crucifix, and offered it to her lips.

At this moment the old woman, who, as they spoke in French, only
understood as much as she could interpret from their gestures, rose,
and darting towards them, she laid her hand on the crucifix. "No, no,
Felice; swear not!" she said; "the oath will be written there," and she
pointed upward, "when you have broken and forgotten it."

Edward, in the intensity of his interest in the scene, had forgotten the
necessity of secrecy. He carelessly leaned his arm on some rails that
had been placed against the hut, one of them fell; the party within
started and looked around them, and Edward instinctively retreated. If
he went as swiftly as the wind, and once or twice thought he heard an
arrow whirring through the air behind him, we hope our readers will
impute it to the excited state of his imagination, and not deem him a
coward, 'even upon instinct.'

"Just in time, Edward, my son," said Mr. Sackville, who was standing by
the carriage in which the rest of the party were already seated; "but
what in the world ails you? you look as wild as if you had met a bear up