cious of my own acts,
and filled with a strong dread of an evil which I know will come,
must come, although only protracted. And yet, with all the horror
of my position, how much more bitter might have been my self-reproach,
my remorse, in having neglected, in my distraction, to inclose the
packet for Mrs. Headley, which the noble-hearted, the devoted
Wau-nan-gee now conveys. I thought I had given it to Sergeant Nixon,
but Wau-nan-gee found it in the pocket of my saddle only yesterday.
Oh, but for the arrival of Winnebeg with the intelligence he brings,
it would now be too late, and what, then, would have been my
sensations? His appearance has altered the plans of the unfriendly
portion of the Indians, who, presuming that the troops will soon
leave the fort, have determined to wait for the division of the
stores, and attack you on the march. But still they could not
restrain their impatience, and the day of the council was fixed.
All this I learned from Wau-nan-gee, who makes me acquainted
with everything that is going on, and is both hated and suspected
by Pee-to-tum, who would willingly find him guilty of treachery,
and destroy him if he could. I begged him, in my deep sorrow, to
be the bearer to you, even amid all danger of detection, of a few
words of warning which I knew you would sufficiently understand.
He did go, while dashing up seemingly in defiance to the gate; and
with a joy you may well understand, I marked the result. So far,
then, has the step which my great love for you induced me to take,
regardless of minor considerations, been of vital service to you
all; for good and generous as Wau-nan-gee is, nothing short of his
deep and respectful attachment would have led him to reveal the
secrets of his people, and thus defeat their cruel purpose. But,
oh! when I think that the danger is only deferred, not removed,
how poor is the consolation! Dear Ronayne, my heart is sad, sad,
sad! Last night I dreamed you were near, and this morning I awoke
to horror, to know that, perhaps, your hours are numbered, while
for me there is no hope of death, which then would be a blessing,
except from my own hand! Oh, suffer me not to pray in vain if you
would have me live! Once you evaded (oh, how cruelly!) the stratagem
which would have saved your life and honor--which would have made
you an unwilling prisoner with those who, for my own safety, hold
me captive.

"Alas! had I not hoped that you would have been compelled to sh