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"Go."

And he dropped his hand upon his knees, doubled himself together, and refused to say another word. As Cecil turned to go he found Multnomah standing close by, watching him.

"Come," said the stern despot, briefly. "I want to talk with you."

He led the way back through the noisy encamp ment to the now deserted grove of council. Every thing there was quiet and solitary; the thick circle of trees hid them from the camp, though its various sounds floated faintly to them. They were quite alone. Multnomah seated himself on the stone cov ered with furs, that was his place in the council. Cecil remained standing before him, wondering what was on his mind. Was the war-chief aware of his interview with Wallulah? If so, what then? Mult nomah fixed on him the gaze which few men met without shrinking.

"Tell me," he said, while it seemed to Cecil as if that eagle glance read every secret of his innermost heart, "tell me where your land is, and why you left it, and the reason for your coming among us. Keep no thought covered, for Multnomah will see it if you do."

Cecil s eye kindled, his cheek flushed. Wallulah was forgotten; his mission, and his mission only, was re membered. He stood before one who held over the many tribes of the Wauna the authority of a prince; if he could but be won for Christ, what vast results might follow!

He told it all, the story of his home and his work, his call of God to go to the Indians, his long wander ings, the message he had to deliver, how it ha