A clear shrill whistle meets his ear.

It is Hector's whistle, he knows that, and assured by its cheerful tone, he springs forward and in an instant is at his side, but starts at the strange, companion that he half leads, half carries.

The moonlight streams broad and bright upon the shrinking figure of an Indian girl, apparently about the same age as Catharine: her ashy face is concealed by the long masses of raven black hair, which falls like a dark veil over her features; her step is weak and unsteady, and she seems ready to sink to the earth with sickness or fatigue.
Hector, too, seems weary.

The first words that' Hector said were, "Help me, Louis, to lead this poor girl to the foot of the pine; I am so tired I can hardly walk another step." Louis and his cousin together carried the Indian girl to the foot of the pine.

Catharine was just rousing herself from sleep, and she gazed with a bewildered air on the strange companion that Hector had brought with him.