Page:The Prairie Flower; Or, Adventures In the Far West.djvu/53

 could scarcely stand. My heart seemed to shrink into nothing, my blood began to curdle in mv veins, and my quaking limbs refused to d*o my bidding. There I stood, shaking like an aspen leaf, afraid to go forward, unwilling to retreat. At length, by a threat effort, I grew more calm. With- a fresh determination not to be conquered by myself, I rushed up the steps and rang the bell. A servant appeared. But he was not the one I had expected to behold; not the one that had answered my former summons; his face was new to me. This was a change, it is true, and produced some very unpleasant feelings; but this was a common one, and nothing to alarm me.

"Is Miss Huntly at home?" I inquired.

"Miss Huntly don't live here, sir."

"What!" cried I, gasping for breath, "not live here?"

"No, sir! this is Mr. Wharton's house."

"Wharton! Yes, well, he—he—is—married?"

"Yes, sir, he's married."

"Who did he marry?"

"Don't know, sir."

"Was it a—Lilian Huntly?"

"No indeed, I guess it wasn't. He wouldn't look at her, I know."

"Not look at her, villain! why not?" and, excited beyond reason, I seized my informant beyond the collar. "Why would he not look at her, wretch?" I repeated, hoarsely. "Tell me quickly, or I will dash your brains out at my feet!"

"Ca-cause she's poor," was the trembling reply.

"Poor!" I shouted.

"Ye-yes, sir."

"And where is she to be found?"

"Just round that alley yonder first door on the left."

I followed with my eyes the direction indicated by the finger of my informant, and the next moment found the door slammed in my face. But for this I cared not. Lilian wa^ in trouble. With one bound I cleared the steps, and darting down the street, turned the coiner of the alley, and stood before a miserable wooden house.

"Great God!" I cried, mentally, "the home of Lilian, dear Lilian!" and the next moment, without pausing to knock, I burst open the door and entered a miserable apartment scantily furnished.

The first object that fixed my attention was sweet Lilian herself; but oh! how altered! how pale! how wo-begone her look! Her dress and appearance bespoke poverty and suffering, and chilled my blood.

"Lilian!" I cried, rushing toward her, with outstretched arms.

She rose stared at me a frightful expression swept over her pale, grief-worn, but still lovely features she struggled for ward gasped and, uttering my name, with a terrible shriek, sunk senseless into my arms.

At this moment the door was burst rudely open, and Wharton, with eyes gleaming tire, pistol in hand, rushed into the apartment. Ere I had time for thought, the pistol flashed, the report rang in my ears, and the ball buried itself in the head of my beloved Lilian. With a shriek of horror, I dropped her lifeless body, and awoke.

I looked up, and saw Huntly bending over me, and heard a confused noise, the discharge of firearms, and rising above all the din, the yells of savages.

"Awake, Frank! up for God's sake! we are attacked!" cried Huntly.

Instantly I sprang to my feet, completely bewildered.

"Tree, tree, or you're dead nigger!" shouted a voice behind me.

I turned around, but was still too much confused to understand what was meant. The next moment Huntly seized me by the arm, and hurriedly dragging me to a neighboring tree, thrust me behind it on the side farthest from the fire. I had cause to be thankful for this; for as I moved from the spot where I had stood, a ball whizzed past me, which, had it been sped a second sooner, had doubtless proved fatal.

I now learned, from a few hurried words spoken by my friend, that the Indians supposed to be Pawnees, and, in fact, the same party which had alarmed us at Cot ton's Creek had made a sudden dash at cur animals, which were picketed within pistol-shot of the tire, and, with loud yells, had discharged their pieces and arrows into our camp, fortunately without doing us any injury. In a moment every one was on