“As for jesting, captain,” said the renegade, with a lowering brow, “there’s not one particle of it about me, from top to toe.  I offer you a bargain that has all the good on your side; and I reckoned you’d ‘a’ jumped at it with a whole hoss-load of thank’ees.  I offer you a gal that’s the best gal in the whole eternal wood; and I reckon you may count all that this here sheepskin will bring you as jist so much dowry of my giving.  A’n’t that making tarms easy?—­for, as for the small matters for myself, them is things I will come upon the gal for, without troubling you for ’em.  Now you see, captain, I’ll ’jist argue the matter.  You may reckon it strange I should make you such an offer; and ondoubtedly, so it is.  But here’s the case.  First, captain, I’m agin burning you; it makes. me oneasy, to think of it—­for you ha’n’t done me no harm, and you’re a young feller of the rale Virginny grit, jist after my own heart, and I takes to you.  And, next, captain, there’s the gal—­a good gal, captain, that’s desarving of all I can do for her, and a heap more.  But, captain, what’s to become of the crittur when I’am done for?  You see, some of these cussed Injuns—­or it may be the white men, for they’re all agin me—­will take the scalp off me some day, sooner or later, there’s no two ways about it.  Well, then, what’s to become of the poor gal, that ha’n’t no friend in the big world to care for her?  Now, you see, I’m thinking of the gal, and I’m making the bargain for her; and I made it in my own mind jist the minute I seed you were a captive among us, and laid my hand on this here will.  Said I to myself, ’I’ll save the youngster, and I’ll marry my gal to him, and there’s jist two good things I’ll do for the pair of ’em!’ And so, captain, there’s exactly the end of it.  If you’ll take the gal, you shall have her, and you’ll make three different critturs greatly beholden to you:—­first, the gal, who’s a good gal, and a comely gal, and will love and honor you jist as hard as the best madam in the land; next, myself, that am her father, and longs to give her to an honest feller, that won’t misuse her, and, last, your own partickelar self;—­for the taking of her is exactly the only way you have of gitting hack the old major’s lands, and what I hold to be jist as agreeable, dragging clear of a hot Injun fire that will roast you to cinders if you remain in this d—­d village two days longer!”

“My friend,” cried Roland, driven to desperation, for he perceived Atkinson was making his extraordinary proposal in perfectly good faith and simplicity, as a regular matter of matter of business, “you know not what you ask.  Free me and my kinswoman—­”

“As for young madam there,” interrupted the renegade, “don’t be at all oneasy.  She’s in good hands, I tell you; and Braxley’ll fetch her straight off to Virginny as soon as he has brought her to reason.”

“And your terms,” said Roland, smothering his fury as he could, “imply an understanding that my cousin is to be surrendered to him?”