My father gave his life for no less, and I hold him right in his choice.

I may forgive much of wrong--ay! have forgiven--yet the stain of dishonor now rests upon the proud name I bear, and that can never be forgiven.

Whether in New Orleans, or the heart of this wilderness, I am still Eloise Lafreniere, the daughter of a gentleman of France.

I would die by the torture of these savages before I would surrender the honor due my race." There was that in her proud speech silencing my tongue from further expostulation, even had I believed De Noyan deserved a defender.

He had deliberately chosen his path, now let him follow it; any man who would thus lightly tread on the heart of such a woman was clearly outside the radius of human sympathy, deserving to be.