CHAPTER XI
With great pain Lord H---- contemplated the task before him; but his was a firm and resolute heart, and he strode forward quickly, to accomplish it as soon as possible. Fancy painted, as he went, all the grief and anguish he was about to inflict upon Edith; but fancy hardly did her justice, for it kept out of the picture many of the stronger and finer traits of her character. The beautiful girl was watching from the window, and at once recognized her lover as he issued from the wood alone. Her heart sank with apprehension, it is true, but nevertheless she ran out along the little path to meet him, in order to know the worst at once. Before they met, slowly and heavily her father came forth from the wood, with a crowd of boatmen and soldiers following, in groups of six or seven at a time; and with wonderful accuracy, she divined the greater part of what had occurred. She instantly stopped till Lord H---- came up, and then inquired in a low and trembling voice: "Have you found him? Is he dead or living?"
"We have not found him, dear Edith," said Lord H----, taking her hand and leading her toward the house, "but your father conceives there is great cause for apprehension of the very worst kind, from what we have found. I trust, however, that his fears go beyond the reality, and that there is still----"
"Oh, dear George, do not keep me in suspense!" said Edith. "Let me hear all at once. My mind is sufficiently prepared by long hours of painful thought. I will show none of the weakness I displayed this morning. What is it you have found?"
"His knife and his knapsack," replied Lord H----.
"He may have cast it off from weariness," said Edith, catching at a hope.
"I fear not," replied her lover, unwilling to encourage expectations to be disappointed. "The straps of the knapsack were cut, not unbuckled, and your father has given himself up entirely to despair, although we found no traces of strife or bloodshed."
"Poor Waiter!" said Edith, with a deep sigh; but she shed no tears, and walked on in silence till they had reached the little veranda of the house. Then suddenly she stopped, roused herself from her fit of thought, and said, raising her beautiful and tender eyes to her lover's face: "I have now two tasks before me to which I must give myself up entirely--to console my poor father, and to try to save my brother's life. Forgive me, George, if in executing these, especially the latter, I do not seem to give you as much of my thoughts as you have a right to. You would not, I know, have me neglect either."
"God forbid!" said Lord H----, warmly; "but let me share in them, Edith. There is nothing within the scope of honor and of right that I will not do to save your brother. I sent him on this ill-starred errand. To gratify me was that unfortunate expedition made through the wood; but it is enough that he is your brother and your father's son, and I will do anything, undertake anything, if there be still a hope. Go to your father first, my love, and then let us consult together. I will see these men attended to, for they want rest and food, and I must take liberties with your father's house to provide for them."
"Do! do!" she answered. "Use it as your own;" and leaving him in the veranda she turned to meet her father.
For the time, Edith well knew Mr. Prevost's mind was not likely to receive either hope or consolation. All she could give him was tenderness; and Lord H----, who followed her to speak with the soldiers and boatmen, soon saw her disappear into the house with Mr. Prevost. When he returned to the little sitting-room Edith was not there, but he heard the murmur of voices from the room above, and in about half an hour she rejoined him. She was much more agitated than when she left him, and her face showed marks of tears; not that her fears were greater, or that she had heard anything to alarm her more, but her father's deep despair had overpowered her own firmness. All the weaker affections of human nature are infectious--fear, despair, dismay and sorrow peculiarly so.
Edith still felt, however, the importance of decision and action, and putting her hand to her head with a look of bewilderment, she stood for an instant in silence, with her eyes fixed on the ground, seemingly striving to collect her scattered thoughts in order to judge and act with precision.
"One of the boatmen, Edith," said Lord H----, leading her to a seat, "has led me to believe that we shall have ample time for any efforts to serve your brother, if he has, as there is too much reason to fear, fallen into the hands of these revengeful Indians. The man seems to know well what he talks of, and boasts that he has been accustomed to the ways and manners of the savages since boyhood."
"Is he a tall, handsome man, with two beautiful children?" asked Edith.
"He is a tall, good-looking man," answered Lord H----, "but his children I did not see."
"If he be the man I mean, he can be fully depended upon," answered Edith, "and it may be well to ask his opinion and advice before he goes; but for the present, George, let us consult alone. Perhaps I can judge better than you of poor Walter's present situation; that is first to be considered, and then what are the chances, what the means, of saving him. He is certainly in the hands of the Indians, of that I have no doubt; and I think Black Eagle knew it when he guided us through the forest. Yet I do not think that he would willingly lift the tomahawk against my brother. It will be at the last extremity, when all means have failed of entrapping that unhappy man Brooks. We shall have time; yes, we certainly have time."
"Then the first step to be taken," said Lord H----, "will be to induce the government to make a formal and imperative demand for his release. I will undertake that part of the matter; it shall be done at once."
Edith shook her head sadly. "You know them not," she said. "It would only hurry his fate;" and after dropping her voice to a very low tone, she added: "They would negotiate and hold councils, and Walter would be slain while they were treating."
She pressed her hands upon her eyes as she spoke, as if to shut out the dreadful image her words called up, and then there was a moment or two of silence, at the end of which Lord H---- inquired if it would not be better for him to see Sir William Johnson and consult with him.
"That may be done," said Edith. "No man in the province knows them as well as he does, and his advice may be relied upon; but we must take other measures, too. Otaitsa must be told, and consulted. Do you know, George," she added, with a melancholy smile, "I have lately been inclined at times to think that there is no small love between Walter and the Blossom--something more than friendship, at all events."
"But of course she will hear of his capture, and do the best she can to save him," replied the young nobleman.
Edith shook her head, answering: "Save him she will, if any human power can do it; but that she knows of his capture I much doubt. These Indians are wise, George, as they think, and never trust their acts, their thoughts, or their resolutions to a woman. They will keep the secret from Otaitsa just as Black Eagle kept it from me; but she must be informed, consulted, and perhaps acted with. Then I think, too, that poor man Woodchuck should have tidings of what his act has brought upon us."
"I see not well," said Lord H----, "what result that can produce."
"Nor I," answered Edith; "but yet it ought to be done, in justice to ourselves and to him. He is bold, skillful, and resolute, and we must not judge of any matter in this country as we should judge in Europe. He may undertake and execute something for my brother's rescue which you and I would never dream of. He is just the man to do so and to succeed. He knows every path of the forest, every lodge of the Indians. He is friendly with many of them, has saved the lives of some of them, I have heard him say, and conferred great obligations upon others; and I believe that he will never rest till he has delivered Walter."
"Then I will find him out and let him know the facts directly," said Lord H----; "perhaps he and Otaitsa may act together, if we can open any communication with her."
"She will act by herself and for herself, I am sure," replied Edith, "and some communication must be opened at any and all risk. But let us see this man, George; perhaps he may know someone going into the Indian territory who may carry a letter to her. It is a great blessing she can read and write, for we must have our secrets, too, if we would frustrate theirs."
Lord H---- rose, and proceeded to the hall, where the men whom he had brought with him were busily engaged in dispatching such provisions as Mr. Prevost's house could afford on the spur of the moment. The man he sought for was soon found, and when he had eaten the morsel almost between his teeth, he followed the young nobleman into the lesser room, and was soon in full conference with Edith and her lover. He again expressed the opinion that no harm would happen to young Walter Prevost for some months, at the least. "They have caught someone," he said, "to make sure of their revenge, and that is all they wanted for the present. Now they will look for the man that did it, and catch him if they can."
"Can you tell where he is to be found?" asked Lord H----, in a quiet tone.
"Why, you would not give him up to them?" said the man, sharply.
"Certainly not," replied Lord H----. "He is in safety, and of that safety I have no right to deprive him; it would make me an accessory to their act. But I wish to see him, to tell him what has occurred, and to consult him as to what is to be done."
"That is a very different case," replied the man, gravely, "and if that's all you want, I don't mind telling you that he is in Albany, at the public house of the Three Boatmen. Our people, who rowed him down, said he did not intend to leave Albany for a week or more."
"And now, Robert," said Edith, "can you tell me where I can get a messenger to the Oneidas? I know you loved my brother Walter, and I think, if you can get somebody to go for me, we may save him."
"I did indeed love him well, Miss Prevost," replied the stout man, with his hard, firm eye moistening, "and I'd do anything in reason to save him. It's a sad thing we did not know of this yesterday, for there was a half-breed Onondaga runner passed by and got some milk from us, and I gave him the panther's skin which you told some of our people to send, my lord, in the poor lad's name, to the daughter of the old chief Black Eagle."
Edith turned her eyes to her lover's face, and Lord H---- replied to their inquiring look, saying: "It is true, Edith. Walter shot a panther in the woods, and wished to send the skin to Otaitsa. We had no time to lose at the moment, but as we came back I induced the guides to skin it, and made them promise to dry and send it forward by the first occasion."
"I strapped it on his back myself," said the man whom Edith called Robert, "and gave him the money you sent for him, too, my lord. He would have taken my message readily enough, and one could have trusted him; but it may be months before such another chance offers, I guess. Look here, Miss Edith," he continued, turning toward her with his face full of earnest expression, "I would go myself, but what would come of it? They would only kill me instead of your brother, for one man is as good as another to them in such cases, and perhaps he mightn't get off, either. But I have a wife and two young children, ma'am, and that makes me not quite so ready to risk my life as I was a few years ago."
"It is not to be thought of," said Edith, calmly. "I could ask no one to go but one at least partly of their own race, for it must be the blood of a white man they spill, I know. All I can desire you to do is, for Master Walter's sake and mine, to seek for one of the Indian runners who are often about Albany, and about the army, and send him up to me."
"You see, Miss Prevost," replied the man, "there are not so many about as there used to be, for it is coming on winter; and as to the army, when Lord Loudon took it to Halifax almost all the runners and scouts were discharged. Some of them remained with Webb, it is true, but a number of those were killed and scalped by Montcalm's Hurons. However, I will make it my business to seek one, night and day, and send him up."
"Let it be someone on whom we can depend," said Edith; "someone whom you have tried and can trust."
"That makes it harder still," said the man; "for though I have tried many of them, I can trust few of them. However, I will see, and not be long about it, either. But it would be quite nonsense to send you a man who might either never do your message at all, or go and tell those you don't want to hear it."
"It would, indeed," said Edith, sadly, as all the difficulties and risks which lay in the way of success were suggested to her by the man's words. "Well, do your best, Robert," she said, at length, after some thought, "and as you will have to pay the man, here is the money for----"
"You can pay him yourself, ma'am," replied the boatman, bluntly. "As for taking any myself for helping poor Master Walter, that's what I won't do. When I've got to take an oar in hand, or anything of that kind, I make the people pay fast enough what my work is worth, perhaps a little more, sometimes," he added, with a laugh, "but not for such work as this--no! no! not for such work as this! So good-bye, Miss Prevost; good-bye, my lord. I won't let the grass grow under my feet in looking for some messenger."
Thus saying, he left the room, and Edith and Lord H---- were once more left alone together. Sad and gloomy was their conversation, uncheckered by any of those light beams of love and joy which Edith had fondly fancied were to light her future hours. All was dim and obscure in the future, and the point upon which both their eyes turned most intently in the dark, shadowy curtain of coming time was the murkiest and most obscure of all. Still, whatever plan was suggested, whatever course of action was thought of, difficulties rose up to surround it, and perils presented themselves on all sides.
Nor did the presence of Mr. Prevost, who joined them soon after, tend in any degree to support or to direct. He had lost all hope, at least for the time, and the only thing which seemed to afford him a faint gleam of light was the thought of communicating immediately with Brooks.
"I fear Sir William Johnson will do nothing," he said; "he is so devoted even to the smallest interests of the government, his whole mind is so occupied with this one purpose of cementing the alliance between Britain and the Five Nations, that on my life I believe he would suffer any man's son to be butchered rather than risk offending an Indian tribe."
"In his position it is very difficult for him to act," said Lord H----, "but it might be as well to ascertain his feelings and his views by asking his advice as to how you should act yourself. Counsel he will be very willing to give, I am sure, and in the course of conversation you might discover how much and how little you may expect from his assistance."
"But you said, my dear lord, that you were yourself going to Albany to-morrow to see poor Brooks," said Mr. Prevost. "I cannot leave Edith here alone."
All three mused for a moment or two, and Edith, perhaps, the deepest of all. At length, however, she said: "I am quite safe, my father; of that I am certain; and you will be so, I am sure, when you remember what I told you of Black Eagle's conduct to me on that fatal night. He threw his blanket around me and called me his daughter. Depend upon it, long ere this, the news that I am his adopted child has spread through all the tribes, and no one would dare to lift his hand against me."
"I can easily----" said Lord H----.
But Edith interrupted him gently, saying: "Stay, George--one moment! Let my father answer. Do you not think, my dear father, that I am quite safe? In a word, do you not believe that I could go from lodge to lodge as the adopted daughter of Black Eagle, throughout the whole length of the Long House of the Five Nations, without the slightest risk of danger? And if so, why should you fear?"
"I do indeed believe you could," replied Mr. Prevost. "Oh, that we could have extracted such an act from him toward poor Walter! What Edith says is right, my lord; we must judge these Indians as we know them, and my only fear in leaving her here now would arise in the risks of incursion from the other side of the Hudson."
Lord H---- mused a little. It struck him there was something strange in Edith's way of putting the question to her father, something too precise, too minute to be called for by any of the words which had been spoken. It excited nothing like suspicion in his mind, for it was hardly possible to look into the face or hear the tones of Edith Prevost, and entertain so foul a thing as suspicion. But it made him doubt whether she had not some object, high and noble, he was sure, beyond the immediate point, which she did not think fit, as yet, to reveal.
"I was about to say," he replied at length, to the last words of Mr. Prevost, "that I can easily move a guard up here sufficient to protect the house; and I need not tell you, my dear sir," he continued, taking Edith's hand, "as the whole treasure of my happiness is here, that I would not advise you to leave her for an hour unless I felt sure she would be safe. I will send down by some of the men who are still in the house an order to Captain Hammond to march a guard here as early as possible to-morrow morning, under a trustworthy sergeant. As soon as it arrives I will set out for Albany; and I think you can go to Johnson's Castle in perfect security."
So it was arranged, and all parties felt no inconsiderable relief when some course of action was thus decided. Effort, in this world, is everything. Even the waters of joy will stagnate; and the greatest relief to care or sorrow, the strongest in danger or adversity, is effort.
The morning of the following day broke fresh and beautiful. There was a bright clearness in the sky, a brisk elasticity in the air, that had not been seen or felt for weeks. Everything looked sparkling, and sharp, and distinct. Distances were diminished; woods and hills which had looked dim appeared near and definite; and the whole world seemed in harmony with energy and effort. The heavy rains of the preceding morning had cleared the loaded atmosphere, as tears will sometimes clear the oppressed breast, and when Lord H---- and Mr. Prevost mounted their horses to set out, it seemed as if the invigorating air had restored to the latter the firmness and courage of which the grief and horror of the preceding day had deprived him.
Edith embraced her father, and gave her cheek to the warm touch of her lover's lips; and then she watched them as they rode away till the wood shut them out from her sight. The soldiers were by this time installed in the part of the house destined for them, and some of the negroes were busy in preparing for their accommodation; but old Agrippa and the gardener boy, and a woman servant stood near, watching their master and his guest as they departed. As soon as the little party was out of sight, however, Edith turned to Agrippa, saying: "Send Chaudo to me in the parlor; I want to speak with him."
As soon as the man appeared she gazed at him earnestly, saying: "How far is it to Oneida Lake, Chaudo--have you ever been there?"
"Oh, yes, Missy, often when I was a little boy. Why, you know, my fadder ran away and live wid Ingins long time, 'cause he had bad master. But Ingins cuff him, and thump him more nor worst massa in the world, and so he come back again. How far be it? Oh, long way; twice so far as Johnson Castle, or more. Oh, yes; three times so far."
Edith knew how vague a negro's ideas of distance are, and she then put her question in a form which would get her a more distinct answer.
"Bethink you, Chaudo," she said, "how long it would take me to reach the lake--how long it would take anyone. Consider it well, and let me know."
"You, Missy! You!" cried the negro, in great astonishment. "You never think of going there?"
"I don't know, Chaudo," she replied. "It might be needful, and I wish to know how long it would take."
"Dat 'pend upon how you go, Missy," replied the man; "ride so far as Johnson Castle, but can't ride no farder. Den walk as I walk? You never do dat; and if you do, take you five days, and walk hard, too."
Poor Edith's heart sank. "Otaitsa walks," she said, in a desponding tone; "but it is true she can do much that I cannot do."
"She walk? Oh, dear no, Missy!" replied the negro. "She walk little bit o' way from what dey call Wood Creek, or from de Mohawk. She walk no farder; all de rest she go in canoe, sometimes on Mohawk, sometimes on lake, sometimes on creek. She came here, once, in t'ree day, I hear old Gray Buzzard, de pipe-bearer, say, that time when de sachem come wid his warriors."
"And can I do the same?" asked Edith, eagerly.
"Sure you can, if you get canoe," answered Chaudo; "but oh, Missy, t'ink ob de Ingins! They kidnap Massa Walter; dey kill you, too!"
"There is no fear, Chaudo," replied Edith. "Even my father owns that I could safely go from one lodge to another, through the whole land of the Five Nations, because Black Eagle has put his blanket round me and made me his daughter."
"Massa know best," said Chaudo; "but if so, why dey kidnap Massa Walter?"
"Black Eagle refused to make him his son, or my father his brother," said Edith, with the tears rising in her eyes. "But the truth is, Chaudo, that I go to try if I can save poor Walter's life. I go to tell the Blossom that they hold my Walter--her Walter--a prisoner, and see whether she cannot find means to rescue him."
"I see, I see, Missy!" said the man, gravely. And then, after pausing for a moment, he asked, abruptly: "I go with you?"
"Someone I must have, to show me the way," replied Edith. "Are you afraid, Chaudo?"
"Afraid!" cried the man, bursting into a fit of joyous laughter. "Oh, no, not afraid! Ingins no hurt nigger; kick him, cuff him; no scalp him, 'cause nigger got no scalp-lock. Ha! ha! ha! I go help save Massa Walter. He never hab no good thing but he give Chaudo some. Oh, I'll manage all for you. We find plenty canoe, Mohawk canoe, Oneida canoe, if we say you Black Eagle's daughter, going to see you sister Otaitsa. When you go, Missy?"
"Very soon, Chaudo," replied Edith, and proceeded to explain her plan to him still farther. She said that she wished to set out that very day, and as soon as possible, in order, first, to communicate the tidings of Walter's capture to Otaitsa without delay; and secondly, to save her father as many hours of anxiety as possible. She did not absolutely tell the man that she had not informed her father of her intention, but he divined it well. Nevertheless, when he heard somewhat more at large the conduct of Black Eagle toward her on the night of poor Walter's capture, he was quite satisfied of her safety as far as the Indians were concerned. He urged her, however, to go in the first place to Johnson Castle, where she could procure a canoe, or even a batteau, he felt certain; and it was long before he comprehended her objection to that course. At length, however, his usual "I see, I see!" showed that he had caught a light at last, and then he was soon ready with his resources.
"Den we walk to the nearest end of little pond; only t'ree mile," he said, "fishing canoe all ready; next we go down little pond and de creek into lake, keep by nort' side, and den walk to Mohawk, t'ree mile more. I carry canoe 'cross on my back. Den, Ingin or no Ingin, we get along. If Missy like to take oder nigger, too, we get on very fast, and he carry bundle."
"I must have one of the women with me," said Edith, in a thoughtful tone, "but which?"
The negro's countenance fell a little. He was very proud of the confidence placed in him, and he did not like to share it with a white woman. His tone, then, was rather dejected, though submissive, when he asked: "Do Missy take white woman, Sally, wid her? Sally no walk. Sally no run. Sally no paddle when Chaudo is tired."
"No," replied Edith at once. "I can take no white person with me, Chaudo, for it would risk her life; and even to save my poor brother I must not lure another into sad peril. One of your color, Chaudo, they will not hurt; for it is a white man's blood they will have for a white man's act."
"Then take Sister Bab!" cried Chaudo, rubbing his hands, with the peculiar, low negro chuckle. "Sister Bab walk, run, carry bundle, and twirl paddle wid anybody."
Now Bab was a stout negro woman of about forty years of age, with a pleasant countenance and very fine white teeth, who rejoiced in the cognomen of sister, though, to the best of Edith's knowledge, she was sister to no one--in the house, at least. Her usual occupations were in the farmyard, the dairy, and the pigsty; so that Edith had not seen very much of her; but all that she had seen was pleasant, for Sister Bab seemed continually on the watch to do everything for everybody, receiving every order, even from "Master Walter," who was sometimes a little inconsiderate, with a broad, good-humored grin; and her constant activity and indefatigable energy promised well for an undertaking such as that in which Edith was engaged.
"Well, Chaudo," said the young lady, "I do not know that I could make a better choice. Send Sister Bab to me, for where dangers such as these are to be encountered, I will not take anyone without her own free consent."
"Oh, she go, I talk wid her," said Chaudo; "you nebber trouble yourself, Missy. She go to world's end with Miss Edith, and fight like debbel if dere be need. I nebber saw woman so good at catching fish; she'd hook 'em out like cabbages."
"That may be useful to us, too," said Edith, with a faint smile; "but send her to me, nevertheless, Chaudo; I want to speak with her before I go."
The good woman, when she came, made not the slightest objection; but, on the contrary, looked upon the expedition as something very amusing, which would give a relief to the tedium of her daily labors, and at the same time afford full occupation for her active spirit. She was as ready with suggestions as Chaudo; told Edith everything she had better take with her, detailed all her own proposed preparations, and even begged for a rifle, declaring that she was as good a shot as "Massa Walter," and had often fired his gun when he had brought it home undischarged. Edith declined, however, to have a riflewoman in her train; and having told her two chosen attendants that she would be ready in an hour, retired to make her preparations, and write a few lines to her father and her lover to account for her absence when they returned. Both letters were brief, but we will only look at that which she left for Mr. Prevost.
"My dear father," she said, "I am half afraid I am doing wrong in taking the step I am about to take, without your knowledge or approbation; but I cannot sit still and do nothing while all are exerting themselves to save my poor brother. I feel that it is absolutely necessary to any hope for his safety that Otaitsa should be informed immediately of his situation. It may be months before any Indian runner is found, and my poor brother's fate may be sealed. Were it to cost my life, I should think myself bound to go. But I am the only one who can go in perfect safety; for, while promising his protection to me, and insuring me against all danger, the Black Eagle refused to give any assurance in regard to others. You have yourself acknowledged, my dear father, that I shall be perfectly safe; and I have also the advantage of speaking the Indian tongue well. In these circumstances would it not be wrong, would it not be criminal in me to remain here idle when I have even a chance of saving my poor brother? Forgive me, then, if I do wrong, on account of the motives which lead me.
"My course is straight to the Mohawk, by the little pond and the lake, and then up the Mohawk and Wood Creek as far as they will carry me; for I wish to save myself as much fatigue as possible, and I venture to take the canoe from the pond. I have asked Chaudo and Sister Bab to accompany me, as I know you would wish me to have protection and assistance on the way, in case of any difficulty. I hope to be back in six days at the farthest; and, if possible, I will send a runner to inform you of my safe arrival amongst the Oneidas. Once more, my dear father, think of the great object I have in view, and forgive your affectionate daughter."
When these letters were written, Edith dressed herself in full Indian costume, which had been given her by Otaitsa; and a beautiful Indian maiden she looked, though the skin was somewhat too fair and her hair wanted the jetty black. In the Indian pouch, or wallet, she placed some articles of European convenience, and a large hunting knife; and then, making up a small package of clothes for Sister Bab to carry, she descended to the lower story. Here, however, she met with some impediments which she had not expected. The news of her proposed expedition had spread through the whole household and caused almost an open revolt. The white women were in tears; old Agrippa was clamorous; and the fat black cook declared loudly that Miss Edith was mad, and should not go. So far, indeed, did she carry her opposition, that the young lady was obliged to assume a stern and severe tone, which was seldom heard in Edith's voice, and command her to retire at once from her presence. The poor woman was at once overawed, for her courage was not very permanent, and, bursting into tears, she left the room, declaring she was sure she should never see Miss Edith again.
Edith then gave all the keys of the house to old Agrippa, with the two letters which she had written; Chaudo took up the bag of provisions which he had prepared; Sister Bab charged herself with the package of clothes; and Edith, walking between them, turned away from her father's house, amidst the tears of the white women, and a vociferous burst of grief from the negroes.
Her own heart sank for a moment, and she asked herself, "Shall I ever pass that threshold again? Shall I ever be pressed hereafter in the arms of those I so much love?"
But she banished such feelings, and drove away such thoughts; and murmuring, "My brother--my poor brother!" she walked on.