with an
expression of sincere admiration. " A lily too ffir to bloom in a region so desolate as 'this. But why did she leave us so abrupt ly, Frank?" *
"I cannot say, unless it was her dislike of praise."
"I could adore her, Frank, for her good ness. Where would we be now, think you, but for her timely aid? "
"In another world, most probably," I answered solemnly.
"Ay, truly in another world," rejoined Huntly with a sigh. " And you, Frank, if one may judge by your looks, are not far from there now. Great God!" he contin ued, gazing steadily on me, while his eyes became filled with fears " what a change what a change! I cannot realize even now, that I am speaking to Francis Leigh- ton. And this the work of one short week! Oh! how have I longed to see you, Frank! How on my knees have I cried, begged and implored to be permitted to see you! But I was denied unresistingly de- lied and now I am thankful for it; for tad I seen you in that unconscious state described to me by Prairie Flower, I fear K should have lost my reason forever, and the sods of the valley would soon have been green above my mortal remains."
This was said with an air and tone so mournful 1 }', touchingly sad, that in spite of myself J found my eyes swimming in tears.
"Well," I answered, "let us forget the past, and look forward with hope to the fu ll ire; and return to Him who has thus l:ir watched over us with His all -seeing < ye, and raised us up friends where we b.ast expected them, in our moments of affliction the spontaneous thanks of grate ful hearts!"
T.n this and like manner we conversed sol ae half an hour without interruption. As my friend had been struck down at the sane moment with myself, he was of course unab'e to give me any informa tion regardir what happened afterward. Whether anj of our friends were killed or not, we had i o means of ascertaining, and could only speculate upon the probability of this thing or that. What had become of Teddy? Had he survived? and if so, what must have been his feelings when he found we came not to his call, and appeared not to his search!
This train of conversation again brought us back to Prairie Flower, and each had to rehearse the little he had gleaned, and the much he had surmised concerning herself and the tribe; and in many points we found our conjectures to correspond exactlv.
"By-the-by," I observed at length, " it strikes me I have seen some face like hers but where and when I cannot tell per haps in my dreams,"
"Indeed!" replied Huntly, quickly, "and so have I but thought it might be fancy merely at least that yoa would think so and therefore kept it to my self."
"Who, then, is the person?"
"You have no idea?"
"None in the least."
"And if I tell you, and you see no like ness, you will not ridicule my fancy?"
"Ridicule, Charles? No! certainly not. But why such a question?"
"You will understand that full soon."
"Well, then, the lady ?"
"Have you forgotten the fair un known?"
"Good heavens! how like!" I ex claimed. You are right, my friend there is indeed a wonderful likeness. Perhaps But no! the idea is too chimerical."
"Speak it, Frank perhaps what?"
"I was about to add, perhaps they are related but that could not be."
"And why not?" asked Huntly. " Such a thing is not impossible."
"Very true but most highly improba ble, as you will admit. The beautiful un known we saw in New York the beauti ful mysterious, if I may so term her, in the Far West : the former, perhaps, a daughter of fashion in the gay and polished circles of civilization the latter among barbari ans, a prominent member of a roving tribe of savages."
"But you overlook that she could not be bred among savages."
"And why not ?"
"Because her English education, man ners and accomplishments, all belie such a supposition. I admit with you, that the suggestion advanced by yourself look* highly improbable at the same time 1 contend, as before, it is not impossible."
"Well, at all events, Charles,