"Rebecca, Madame Radisson has told you how Jack was left to be tortured
by the Indians?"
"Hortense has told me."
"And how he risked his life to save an Indian girl's life?"
"Yes," says Rebecca, with downcast lids.
"That Indian girl came and untied Jack's bonds the night of the
massacre. They escaped together. When he went snow-blind, Mizza
hunted and snared for him and kept him. Her people were all dead; she
could not go back to her tribe--if Jack had left her in the north, the
hostiles would have killed her. Jack brought her home with him----"
"He ought to have put her in a house of correction," snapped Rebecca.
"Rebecca! Why would he put her in a house of correction? What had she
done that she ought not to have done? She had saved his life. He had
saved hers, and he married her."
"There was no minister," said Rebecca, with a tightening of her
childish dimpled mouth and a reddening of her cheeks and a little
indignant toss of the chin.
"Rebecca! How could they get a minister a thousand leagues away from
any church? They will get one now----"
Rebecca rose stiffly, her little lily face all aflame.
"My father saith much evil cometh of this--it is sin--he ought not to
have married her; and--and--it is very wrong of you to be telling me
this--" she stammered angrily, with her little hands clasped tight
across the white stomacher.
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