Yes, yes, I daresay it's all nat'ral enough, and that makes it come so easy, and is a great comfort to me.""Pathfinder, your words make me uneasy.Speak plainer, or change the subject for ever.You do not, cannot mean that -- you cannot wish me to understand" -- even the tongue of the spirited Mabel faltered, and she shrank, with maiden shame, from adding what she wished so earnestly to say.Rallying her courage, however, and determined to know all as soon and as plainly as possible, after a mo-ment's hesitation, she continued, -- "I mean, Pathfinder, that you do not wish me to understand that you seriously think of me as a wife?""I do, Mabel; that's it, that's just it; and you have put the matter in a much better point of view than I with my for-est gifts and frontier ways would ever be able to do.The Sergeant and I have concluded on the matter, if it is agree-able to you, as he thinks is likely to be the case; though Idoubt my own power to please one who deserves the best husband America can produce."Mabel's countenance changed from uneasiness to sur-prise; and then, by a transition still quicker, from surprise to pain.
"My father!" she exclaimed, -- "my dear father has thought of my becoming your wife, Pathfinder?""Yes, he has, Mabel, he has, indeed.He has even thought such a thing might be agreeable to you, and has almost encouraged me to fancy it might be true.""But you yourself, -- you certainly can care nothing whether this singular expectation shall ever be realized or not?""Anan?"
"I mean, Pathfinder, that you have talked of this match more to oblige my father than anything else; that your feel-ings are no way concerned, let my answer be what it may?"The scout looked earnestly into the beautiful face of Mabel, which had flushed with the ardor and novelty of her sensations, and it was not possible to mistake the in-tense admiration that betrayed itself in every lineament of his ingenuous countenance.
"I have often thought myself happy, Mabel, when rang-ing the woods on a successful hunt, breathing the pure air of the hills, and filled with vigor and health; but I now know that it has all been idleness and vanity compared with the delight it would give me to know that you thought better of me than you think of most others.""Better of you! -- I do, indeed, think better of you, Path-finder, than of most others: I am not certain that I do not think better of you than of any other; for your truth, hon-esty, simplicity, justice, and courage are scarcely equalled by any of earth.""Ah, Mabel, these are sweet and encouraging words from you! and the Sergeant, after all, was not so near wrong as I feared.""Nay, Pathfinder, in the name of all that is sacred and jsut, do not let us misunderstand each other in a matter of so much importance.While I esteem, respect, nay, reverence you, almost as much as I reverence my own dear father, it is impossible that I should ever become your wife -- that I -- "The change in her companion's countenance was so sud-den and so great, that the moment the effect of what she had uttered became visible in the face of the Pathfinder, Mabel arrested her own words, notwithstanding her strong desire to be explicit, the reluctance with which she could at any time cause painn being sufficient of itself to induce the pause.Neither spoke for some time, the shade of dis-appointment that crossed the rugged lineaments of the hunter amounting so nearly to anguish as to frighten his companion, while the sensation of choking became so strong in the Pathfinder that he fairly griped his throat, like one who sought physical relief for physical suffering.The convulsive manner in which his fingers worked actually struck the alarmed girl with a feeling of awe.
"Nay, Pathfinder," Mabel eagerly added, the instant she could command her voice, -- "I may have said more than Imean; for all things of this nature are possible, and women, they say, are never sure of their own minds.What I wish you to understand is, that it is not likely that you and I should ever think of each other as man and wife ought to think of each other.""I do not -- I shall never think in that way again, Mabel,"gasped forth the Pathfinder, who appeared to utter his words like one just raised above the pressure of some suffo-cating substance."No, no, I shall never think of you, or any one else, again in that way.""Pathfinder, dear Pathfinder, understand me; do not attach more meaning to my words than I do myself: a match like that would be unwise, unnatural, perhaps.""Yes, unnat'ral -- ag'in natur'; and so I told the Ser-geant, but he _would_ have it otherwise.""Pathfinder! oh, this is worse than I could have im-agined! Take my hand, excellent Pathfinder, and let me see that you do not hate me.For God's sake, smile upon me again.""Hate you, Mabel! Smile upon you! Ah's me!""Nay, give me your hand; your hardy, true, and manly hand -- both, both, Pathfinder! for I shall not be easy until I feel certain that we are friends again, and that all this has been a mistake.""Mabel!" said the guide, looking wistfully into the face of the generous and impetuous girl, as she held his two hard and sunburnt hands in her own pretty and delicate fingers, and laughing in his own silent and peculiar man-ner, while anguish gleamed over lineaments which seemed incapable of deception, even while agitated with emotions so conflicting, -- "Mabel! the Sergeant was wrong."The pent-up feeliugs could endure no more, and the tears rolled down the cheeks of the scout like rain.His fingers again worked convulsively at his throat; and his breast heaved, as if it possessed a tenant of which it would be rid, by any effort, however desperate.
"Pathfinder! Pathfinder!" Mabel almost shrieked;"anything but this, anything but this! Speak to me, Pathfinder! Smile again, say one kind word, anything to prove you can forgive me.""The Sergeant was wrong!" exclaimed the guide, laugh-ing amid his agony, in a way to terrify his companion by the unnatural mixture of anguish and light-heartedness.
