"Be me sowl, Mr. Harvey, but thim savages says he's not an Injin, but a white man, and yees know they cannot be mistook fur they've got eyes like hawks, and sinses sharper than me only needle, which, begorrah, hasn't got a point."
"Can it be that Bra—that that hunter has done me this great wrong?" said the missionary, correcting himself so dextrously that his servant failed to observe it. "Has such been the revenge that he has been harboring up for so many years? And he has followed us these hundreds of miles for the purpose of striking the blow!"
"The owld haythen assassinator! The bloodthirsty beast, the sneakin' dog, the dirthy jail-bird, the—"
"He has not shot either of us when we were at his mercy, for the purpose of lulling us into security, the better to obtain his revenge, and oh, he has succeeded how well!"
The strong man, who still sat in the front of his cabin, where he might catch the first sound of returning footsteps, now covered his face, and his whole form heaved with emotion. Teddy began to feel uncomfortable. He arose, walked to and fro, and wiped the tears from his own cheeks. Despite his tears, however, he recognized in the exclamations of his master a reference to some mystery which he had long suspected, but which had never been cleared up. The missionary must have met this strange hunter before this encounter in the wilderness, and his identity, and the cause of his deadly enmity, must, also, be known. Teddy had a great curiosity; but, as his master had repulsed his inquiries upon a previous occasion, he forbore to make any reference to it. He walked backward and forward until the good man's emotion had subsided somewhat, and then he said:
"Good Master Harvey, the owld cabin is so lonely wid the form of Miss Cora gone, that it's meself that couldn't very well stay here till morning. So, wid yer leave jist, I'll return to the Injins, so as to be ready to folly the trail bright and early in the mornin'."
"And how do you suppose I feel, Teddy?"
"God save us! It can be no worse than meself."
"I am willing that you should go."
The missionary had need, indeed, for the sustaining power which can come only from above. The faithful Indian woman remained with his child through the night, while he, with bare head, and hands griped together, paced backward and forward until the morrow's sun had risen. How he prayed and agonized in spirit during those long, lonely hours, God and himself only know. When the day had fairly dawned, he entered the house, lay down wearily, and slept a "long and troubled sleep."