“It was at least somewhat surprising,” Roland could not avoid saying, “that the fellow should have found you already equipt in the woods?”

At this innuendo, Telie was somewhat embarrassed, but more so, when, looking towards Edith, as if to address her reply to her, she caught the inquiring look of the latter, made still more expressive by the recollection which Edith retained of the earnest entreaty Telie had made the preceding night, to be taken into her service.

“I will not tell you a falsehood, ma’am,” she said at last, with a firm voice; “I was not on the road by chance; I came to follow you.  I knew the man you had to guide you was unwilling to go, and I thought he would leave you, as he has done.  And, besides, the road is not so clear as it seems; it branches off to so many of the salt-licks, and the tracks are so washed away by the rains, that none but one that knows it can be sure of keeping it long.”

“And how,” inquired Edith, very pointedly,—­for, in her heart, she suspected the little damsel was determined to enter her service, whether she would or not, and had actually run away from her friends for the purpose,—­“how, after you have led us to our party, do you expect to return again to your friends?”

“If you will let me go with you as far as Jackson’s Station” (the settlement at which it was originally determined the emigrants should pass the night), said the maiden humbly, “I will find friends there who will take me home; and perhaps our own people will come for me, for they are often visiting about among the Stations.”

This declaration, made in a tone that convinced Edith the girl had given over all hopes of being received into her protection, unless she could remove opposition by the services she might render on the way, pointed out also an easy mode of getting rid of her when a separation should be advisable, and thus removed the only objection she felt to accept her proffered guidance.  As for Roland, however, he expressed much natural reluctance to drag a young and inexperienced female so far from her home, leaving her afterwards to return as she might.  But he perceived that her presence gave courage to his kinswoman; he felt that her acquaintance with the path was more to be relied upon than his own sagacity; and he knew not, if he even rejected her offered services altogether, how he could with any grace communicate the refusal, and leave her abandoned to her own discretion in the forest.  He felt a little inclined, at first, to wonder at the interest she seemed to have taken in his cousin’s welfare; but, by and by, he reflected that perhaps, after all, her motive lay in no better or deeper feeling than a mere girlish desire to make her way to the neighbouring station (twenty miles make but a neighbourly distance in the wilderness), to enjoy a frolic among her gadding acquaintance.  This reflection ended the struggle in his mind; and turning to her with a smiling countenance, he said, “If you are so sure of getting home, my pretty maid, you may be as certain we will be glad of your company and guidance.  But let us delay no longer.”