“I would have justice done my child,” said she, in a voice so low and calm, yet with such iron determination in its tone, that the young man grew pale as it fell upon his ear; and though his words continued bold, the voice in which they were uttered was that of a man determined to keep his position, though he begins to feel the ground giving way beneath his feet.
“This demand, in the parlance of our nation, would mean that I should submit to a marriage with the girl,” he said; “but even her mother can hardly suppose that I, a descendant of one of England’s proudest families, should marry with a Shawnee half-breed, though she were beautiful as an angel, and amiable as her respected mamma. You have evidently seen something of life, madam, and must see how impossible it is that I should marry your daughter, yet in what other form this strange demand is to be shaped, I cannot imagine.”
Catharine Montour forced herself to hear him out, though a scornful cloud gathered on her forehead. Her lips writhed, her eyes flashed with the angry contempt which filled her soul against the arrogance and selfishness betrayed in the being before her.
“It is a legal marriage, nevertheless, which I require of you,” she said. “Listen before you reply—I have that to offer which may reconcile you even to an union with the daughter of a Shawnee chief. You but now boasted of English birth and of noble lineage. You are young, and one’s native land is very dear; you should wish to dwell in it. Make my daughter your wife—go with her to your own country, where her Indian blood will be unsuspected, or, if known, will be no reproach, and I pledge myself, within one week after your marriage, to put you in possession of fifty thousand pounds as her dowry—to relinquish her forever,” here Catharine’s voice trembled in spite of her effort to speak firmly, “and to hold communion with her only on such terms as you may yourself direct. Nay, do not speak, but hear me out before you answer. I make this offer because the happiness of my child is dearer to me than my own life. I cannot crush her young life by separating her from you forever; better far that I should become childless and desolate again. Take her to your own land; be a kind, generous protector to her, and there is wealth in England that will make the amount I offer of little moment. For her sake I will once more enter the world, and claim my own. But deal harshly with her—let her feel a shadow of unkindness after you take her from the shelter of my love, and my vengeance shall follow you to the uttermost ends of the earth. Give me no answer yet, but reflect on the alternative should you refuse one who has but to speak her will, and a thousand fierce savages are on your track by day and by night, till your heart is haunted to death by its own fears, or is crushed beneath the blow which sooner or later some dark hand will deal in the requital of the disgrace which you have put upon the daughter of a Shawnee.”
Before Butler could recover from his astonishment at her extraordinary proposal, Catharine had disappeared among the brushwood. He stood as if lost in deep thought for several minutes after her departure, then walked the platform to and fro with an air of indecision and excitement, which was more than once denoted by a low laugh, evidently at the singular position in which he found himself placed. Once he muttered a few indistinct words, and looked towards the island with a smile which Mary was at a loss to understand. There was something of the plotting demon in it, which made her tremble as if some harm had been intended to herself.
When Catharine Montour returned, Butler was the first to speak. “Should I be inclined to accept your proposal,” he said, “and to speak candidly, your daughter is beautiful enough to tempt a man to commit much greater folly; how can I be certain of your power to endow her as you promise?”
Catharine drew up her heavy sleeve and displayed the jewelled serpent coiled around her arm.
“This is some proof of my power to command wealth; at the encampment you shall be convinced beyond the possibility of a doubt.”
“But how am I to be secure of personal safety, should the proof be insufficient to satisfy me, or should I see other reason to decline this strange contract. Once in the power of your savage tribe, I shall have but little chance of independent choice.”
Catharine made no reply, but a smile of peculiar meaning passed over her face. She took a small whistle from her bosom, blew a shrill call and stood quietly enjoying the surprise of her companion, as some fifty or sixty red warriors started up from behind the shattered rocks and stunted trees that towered back from the precipice on which they stood, each armed with a rifle and with a tomahawk gleaming at his girdle.