All eyes, from all quarters, were now turned upon her, as, like a spirit, she glided noiselessly forward, her sweet countenance radiant with the flush of excitement, her eyes dilated and sparkling, and her glossy ringlets floating on the breeze. Curiosity could no longer remain unsatisfied; and by one spontaneous movement, from every point of compass, women and children now hurried toward the center of the common, to gather the tidings.
The quiet, modest, melancholy air of Ella, had, one time with another, since her first appearance in the Station, attracted the attention, and won the regard of its inmates; most of whom had made inquiries concerning her, and learned the cause of her sadness; and now, as she gained the crowd, each gazed upon her with a look of respect; and at once moving aside to let her pass, she presently stood the central attraction of an excited multitude, of both sexes, all ages and sizes.
"Who are they?" cried she again, turning from one to the other, rapidly, with an anxious look: "who are the victims of the renegade Girty?"
"We were speaking, Miss Barnwell," answered a youth, of genteel appearance, doffing his hat, and making at the same time a polite and respectful bow: "We were speaking of the defeat, capture, and burning of Colonel Crawford, by the Indians, in their own country, in which the notorious Simon Girty is said to have taken an active part[19]—news whereof has just reached us."
At the mention of the name of Crawford, so different from the one she was expecting to hear, the momentary insanity, or delusion of Ella, vanished; she saw her position at a glance, and the hundred eyes that were upon her; and instantly her face became suffused with blushes; while she shrunk back, with a sense of maidenly shame and bashful timidity, almost overpowering to herself, and really painful for others to behold. She now strove to speak—to give an excuse for her singular conduct—but her tongue failed her, and she would have sunk to the earth, only for the support of Mrs. Younker, who at this moment gained her side.
"Never mind it. Miss Barnwell—it don't need any excuse—we understand your feelings for lost friends," were some of the remarks from the crowd, as the throng again made a passage for her to depart.
"Goodness, gracious, marcy on me alive! what a splurge you did make on't, darling!" said Mrs. Younker to Ella, as they moved away by themselves. "Why, you jest kind o' started up, for all the world like a skeered deer; and afore I could get my hands on ye, you war off like an Injen's arrow. Well, thar, thar, poor gal—never mind it!" added the good dame, consolingly, as Ella turned towards her a painful, imploring look; "we all knows your feelings, darling, and so never mind it. Mistakes will happen in the best o' families, as the Rev. Mr. Allprayer used to say, when any body accused him o' doing any thing he hadn't oughter a done."
"Mother," said Ella, feebly, "I feel faint; this shock, I fear, may be too much for my nervous system."
"Oh! my child, darling, don't mind it—every body knows your feelings—and nobody'll think any thing strange on't. In course you war thinking o' your friends—as war nateral you should—and so war I; and when I heerd the name o' that ripscallious renegade, it jest set my hull blood to biling, like it war hot water, and I felt orful revengeful. But the Lord's will be done, child. He knows what's best; and let us pray to him, that ef our friends is among the land of the living, they may be restored to us, or taken straight away to His presence."
As Mrs. Younker said this, she and Ella entered the cottage.