“Faith, then, with the redskins. They borry’d me suit o’ hair in the first place, an’ left me for dead, but dead I was not, though uncomfortable from the loss av me chief adornmint, an’ after a bit one av ’em comes along: ‘Ugh,’ says he; ‘Ugh, yersel’, say I; ‘I’m not dead, though I look it.’ Well, he tows me along wid him to an Injun village, and they beeta keep me to kindle their fire wid; an’ whin I bursts me bonds that aisy, bein’ strong in me muscles an’ arrums, as ye well know, Polly, they’re sort o’ pleased, an’ seein’ me advantage, says I, ‘I’ll do ye a better turn than to be kindlin’ a fire fur ye, fur a blacksmith I am be birth, an’ I’ll give ye me sarvice in exchange fur me life.’ Well, they powwowed over it fur some time, some agreein’ an’ some disagreein’, but in the end they give me a chanst to live, an’ I won the chanst. I was plannin’ to escape this long back, but the freshet risin’ up so suddent gimme the opportunity I’d been lookin’ fur, an’ I comes in the manner I stated. I’d no time fur hat or wig, Polly, an’ I’m lucky to be arrivin’ with nayther.”
“I hope they didn’t treat you very badly,” said Agnes.
“No so bad; there was another chap of me own color, paleface as they say, an’ he had been with ’em this long while, so we two hobnobbed; an’ though he was more content than me, we got along fairly well. He said as all o’ his’n was kilt, he’d no call to leave, an’ he’d not take the risk, so I kim off by me lone. I’d ha’ gone back to the ould settlemint, but I’d ha’ had me journey for naught.”
“Indeed would ye,” said Polly. “What did I tell ye?” She turned to Agnes. “Would I give up hope? Not I. I’ve looked for ye night an’ morn, Jimmy dear, an’ I knew I’d see ye agin. Faith! it’s but the other day I had me sign sure, an’ I was right in belavin’ in it.” She nodded emphatically in Parker’s direction, and he was obliged to confess that this time the sign had not failed.
“There’s wan thing I’ve learned, at any rate,” Jimmy remarked soberly, passing his hand over his bare poll, “I’ll nivir agin be skeered av the Injuns scalpin’ me.” At which all laughed, and Polly rapturously embraced him. Jimmy, with all his old joking ways, was hers again, and Polly was content.
The return of the captive was a matter of great interest in the settlement, and, strange to say, to none more than to Fergus Kennedy who asked his tale of adventure over and over again, and seemed more brightened up by Jimmy’s presence than by any one’s.
Agnes rejoiced with the rest, but she was a little troubled lest Polly should wish to leave her before the arrival of Mrs. Kennedy, this being just the opposite of that which had been her dilemma a short time before. How easy the matter would be settled if her mother would but come at once, and they could all go to the home which the girl still insisted to herself was rightfully theirs. She did not, however, consider another point in the case till Parker Willett asked her one day if she didn’t think that now Jimmy had come, it would be better for him to take up a piece of land for himself, and leave them all in Jimmy’s care.
Agnes, with Honey in her lap, toyed with the child’s flaxen locks before she answered. Honey had attached himself with great decision to Agnes, and she was beginning to love the little child very much. He seemed to take the place of her own small brothers and sisters more than Polly’s children had ever done, and now that Polly was so absorbed in Jimmy, the girl was lonely at times. She answered Parker’s question with another. “And is it on our account you have been staying here all this time? You know I suspected it. And you risked your life for Jimmy and Honey—and—should you go far?” she asked a little tremulously.
“Not farther than I needs must to find a good bit of land.”
“You will not leave the neighborhood?” She was suddenly conscious that for her there would be a greater vacuum when Parker left than when Archie went away.