clustered about her brows; "and yet her soul is as pure and spotless as her skin! I could say much—more, perhaps, than cooler reason would approve; but I will spare both you and myself—" Her voice became inaudible, and her face was bent over the form of her sister. After a long and burning kiss, she arose, and with features of the hue of death, but without even a tear in her feverish eye, she turned away, and added to the savage, with all her former elevation of manner—"Now, sir, if it be your pleasure, I will follow."
"Ay, go," cried Duncan, placing Alice in the arms of an Indian girl; "go, Magua, go. These Delawares have their laws, which forbid them to detain you; but I—I have no such obligation. Go, malignant monster—why do you delay!"
It would be difficult to describe the expression of features with which Magua listened to this threat to follow. There was at first a fierce and manifest display of joy, and then it was instantly subdued in a look of cunning coldness.
