The missionary did not reply. He seemed to have forgotten what had gone before, and stood mournfully gazing on that young face.
“God be thanked if I have saved her one pang,” he murmured, in answer to some thought that arose at the sight of her beauty.
But the young man became impatient.
“Tahmeroo waits to take leave of you, reverend sir. I trust this reckless escapade has done us no harm in your good opinion. The young lady there will tell you it was but a wild freak to annoy her sister, and to punish Tahmeroo a little for the jealousy which sent her off like a wild hawk upon the night. I trust you will not think it worth while to mention the affair to my august mother-in-law before we meet again in the valley of the Mohawk!”
“I understand,” answered the missionary briefly, “and inform you that the power to enforce the conditions of your marriage contract rests with me, so let the fact of your visiting this island remain among ourselves.”
“You are generous, sir,” answered Butler, covering the bitterness of his defeat under an appearance of grateful feeling. “Come, Tahmeroo, show me your craft, and I will take you back to the Ledge. My poor canoe is half-way to Wilkesbarre by this time, I dare say.”
He wound his arm around the young Indian exactly as he had supported Jane Derwent a few minutes before, passed by that astonished girl with a careless nod of the head, and in this fashion was about to leave the cove; but Tahmeroo disengaged herself from his arm, and came back with a wild grace that touched the missionary to the heart. She knelt down before him, and bent her head for a blessing, as she had bowed at his feet once before that night.
He did not touch her head; some unaccountable feeling kept him from that; but he lifted both hands to heaven and blessed her fervently. Tahmeroo arose, passed Jane quickly, and, taking Mary’s hand, with a look of ineffable gratitude laid it against her heart.
“When the war storm comes, Tahmeroo will remember the white bird.”
With a throb of affection, for which she could not account even to herself, Mary wound her arms around that bending neck, and drew the Indian girl close to her bosom. For an instant those two hearts beat against each other with full heavy throbs. When Mary unlocked her arms, it seemed as if a portion of her own life had been carried away, leaving her richer than ever.