"Give me my rifle!" he cried; "they are coming there! Back!"
And the young man rose erect, with flashing eyes.
"The woman flies in the night," he continues, becoming calm again;
"they pursue her--she escapes with the boy--they come to a deserted
lodge--a lodge! a lodge! Why, it is our lodge in the hills! It's _ma
mere_! and I was that child! Am I mad?"
And Verty raised his head, and looked round him with terror.
His eye fell upon Mr. Rushton, who, breathing heavily, his looks
riveted to his face, his lips trembling, seemed to control some
overwhelming emotion by a powerful effort.
The lawyer rose, and laid his hand upon Verty's shoulder--it trembled.
"You are--dreaming--," he gasped. Suddenly, a brilliant flash darted
from his eye. With a movement, as rapid as thought, he tore the
clothes from the young man's left shoulder, so as to leave it bare to
the armpit.
Exactly on the rounding of the shoulder, which was white, and wholly
free from the copper-tinge of the Indian blood, the company descried a
burn, apparently inflicted in infancy.
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