Beadle's Dime Novels No. 215: The White Hermit — page 29: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE IST AND” RETREAT. :) | Hungry Bill walked up to the opening and looked in, and a girl who was sitting upon a bear’s hide before the door sprang up, at first with an expression of alarm, which changed t surprise when she saw who came. It was the lady who called herself Perdita, and upon a bed of picked moss in one - corner of the room lay the strong figure of the Indian Che- nango, fast asleep. His arm, bandaged as it had been that morning, was laid across his naked breast, and rose and fell with the pulsations of his strong heart. He was evidently well cared for. * You!” cried the girl, looking almost fiercely at the captain. “TI might have known you would try to penetrete my secret.” “Lady.” said the young man, sadly, “ your s: spicion of me grieves me more than I dare to say. I hav. kept the letter of my agreement with you, and have only co; e here because we are assailed by Indians, headed by a man \. ho has a white face but a black heart. I only escaped by »:«d fortune, and reached the canoe, and Bill Epps brought me | ere.” “Bill Epps” cried Perdita. “ Have you hb trayed me ?” The guide stood before her with bowed herd, like a school- boy about to be punished. “T didn’t think you'd be here, miss,” he said. “TI thought you'd be in the other place. I think it's no harm done to let us stay on this part of the island.” “ Yes, if you do not go upcn exploring expeditions,” replied the girl, softening. “He won't do that,” said Bill, in his quiet way. “ And why ?” “Canse T'll shoot him ef he does. Don’t yow fret, miss. | _ Epps will take keer of you.” “ Let me hope that you will regard this assault upon me as _— ‘the signal of danger to you, Miss Perdita,” said the young soldier. “If you knew, as I do, the perfidy of which the In- disns of the north are capable, you would fear for yourself as much as I do.” “ What tribe are they ?” she said. “St. Regis.” - Perdita grew deadly pale at the name of the tribe, gasped for breath, and laid her hand upon her bosom. “The St. Re- «