For my common sense had been abruptly and completely upset, and I was at that period in a truly unhappy and contemptible plight.
I could not seem to steer my footsteps clear of the river bank, nor deny myself the fierce and melancholy pleasure of gazing at their canoe from afar, so I finally walked in that direction, cursing my own weakness and meditating quarrels and fatal duels.
But when I arrived on the river bank, I could not discover her in any of the canoes that danced in the rosy ripples of the declining sun.

So, mooning and miserable, I lagged along the bank toward my bush-hut; and presently, to my sudden surprise, discovered the very lady of whom I had been thinking so intently--not dogged as usual by that insufferable Ensign, but in earnest conversation with the Sagamore.
And, as I gazed at them outlined against the evening sky, I remembered what Betsy Hunt had said at Poundridge--how she had encountered them together on the hill which overlooked the Sound.
Long before I reached them or they had discovered me, the Sagamore turned and took his departure, with a dignified gesture of refusal; and Lois looked after him for a moment, her hand to her cheek, then turned and gazed straight into the smouldering West, where, stretching away under its million giant pines, the vast empire of the Long House lay, slowly darkening against the crimson sunset.
She did not notice me as I came toward her through the waving Indian grass, and even when I spoke her name she did not seem startled, but turned very deliberately, her eyes still reflecting the brooding thoughts that immersed her.
"What is it that you and this Mohican have still to say to each other ?" I asked apprehensively.
The vague expression of her features changed; she answered with heightened colour: "The Sagamore is my friend as well as yours.

Is it strange that I should speak with him when it pleases me to do so ?" There was an indirectness in her gaze, as well as in her reply, that troubled me, but I said amiably: "What has become of your mincing escort?
Is he gone to secure a canoe ?" "He is on duty and gone to the fort." "Where he belongs," I growled, "and not eternally at your heels." She raised her eyes and looked at me curiously.
"Are you jealous ?" she demanded, beginning to smile; then, suddenly the smile vanished and she shot at me a darker look, and stood considering me with lips slightly compressed, hostile and beautiful.
"As for that fop of an Ensign----" I began--but she took the word from my mouth: "A fiddle-stick! It is I who have cause to complain of you, not you of me! You throw dust in my eyes by accusing where you should stand otherwise accused.

And you know it!" "I?
Accused of what ?" "If you don't know, then I need not humiliate myself to inform you.

But I think you do know, for you looked guilty enough----" "Guilty of what ?" "Of what?
I don't know what you may be guilty of.