"It's the poor fellow's jin, ye see," said he.
"His jin!" said Gerald, laughing. "What is a jin, Wilkins?"
"Why, all one as we should say his wife," replied Wilkins; "and there's nought to laugh at, Master Gerald, for she seems, poor body! like to die hersel'. I'se a bad hand at talking in their way; ye see its mair like a bird chirruping nor our folks rough talk. My big tongue cannot frame to sing out like a blackbird. Now there was Peter——"
The woman uttered a scream of terror as Wilkins pronounced the name, and looking wildly round, she clasped the child, repeating distinctly, in accents of fear, "Peter! Peter!"
"She knows the rogue, I'll be bound!" exclaimed Wilkins, endeavoring by words and signs to obtain some information from her.
The woman pointed to the bleeding body at her feet, made a sign of stabbing, and again uttered in a vindictive tone, "Peter!" And on examining the wounds of the corpse, Wilkins pointed out to Arthur that they were not inflicted by the spear; for the man had been evidently stabbed to the heart by a sharp long-bladed weapon.
"That's been Peter's knife, I'd swear," said he, "and the sooner we take off, the better, for he's an ugly neighbor;—poor body! she may well have a scared look!"
As they turned away, the woman, it appeared, had read pity in their eyes, for she put her child into the hands of Arthur, and pointing towards the west, again murmured the name of Peter, and signified that he would return to murder her child and herself. Then lying down by the body of her husband, she closed her eyes, indicating that she must die there.
"What are we to do, Mr. Arthur?" said Wilkins, with tears on his rough cheeks; "my heart just warks for her. But ye see—maybe as how master and miss wouldn't be for havin' such an a half dementet, ondecent body amang 'em. What are we to do? Will ye just say? Sure as we're here, if we leave her, that rascal will kill her; for ye see this dead fellow, he's a big 'un, and likely he'd been again Peter, for he'd be like a head amang 'em."
"Oh, let us take both the woman and her child," said Gerald. "I will run forward to carry the child to Margaret and bring back some clothes for the unhappy mourner;" and without waiting for any sanction to his proceedings, he set off to the canoes with his prize. The alarmed woman started up, and looked anxiously after her child; but Wilkins made her understand she should also follow it, and she appeared satisfied. It was not long before O'Brien returned, accompanied by Jenny, who brought a loose garment for the astonished woman, on whose scanty toilet the neat old woman looked with unqualified disapprobation, as she assisted in arraying her more consistently with civilized customs; or, as she termed it, "made her decent."