The alarm of Cora Richter was so excessive that she endeavored to conceal it.
"What do you wish ?" she asked.
"Where Misser Richter ?" "Gone to the village," she replied, bravely resolving that no lie should cross her lips if her life depended upon it.
"When come back ?" "In an hour or so perhaps." "Where Ted ?" "He has gone hunting." "Big lie--he drunk--don't know nothing--lay sleep on ground." "How do you know?
Did you see him ?" "Me gib him fire-water--much like it--drink good deal--tumble over like tree hain't got root." "Did you ever give it him before ?" asked the young wife, her curiosity supplanting her alarm for the moment.
"Gib him offin--gib him every day--much like it--drink much." Again the wife's instinctive fear came back to her, and she endeavored to conceal it by a calm, unimpassioned exterior.
"Won't you come in and rest yourself until Mr.Richter returns ?" "Don't want to see him," replied the savage, sullenly.
"Who do you wish to see then ?" "You--t'ink much of you." The wife felt as if she would sink to the floor.

There was something in the tones of his voice that had alarmed her from the first.

She was almost certain this savage intended rudeness, now that he knew the missionary himself was gone.

She glanced up at the rifle which was hung above the fireplace.

It was charged, and she had learned how to fire it since her marriage.