"That'll do; he can speak, my lord, though he never do, except at very rare times. Them Ingian devils are as silent as snakes themselves; but this man beats them all. I travelled some two hundred miles with him, ten year or more agone, and never heard the sound of his voice in the whole way but once, and then he said three words and a half, and stopped."
"I know he can speak," said Lord H----, "for he told me how long he would take to go. Go down, Mr. Proctor, as I told you, and wait in the guard-room. You shall hear from me in a minute."
"He runs like a deer," said Woodchuck, as the man left the room, "but his way is generally to trot on at a darnation swingeing sort of rate, which does not seem to trouble his shanks at all; a sort of trot, like, carries him through everything and over everything--brambles, and bushes, and hills, and stones, and rocks, land or water, all the same. I do believe he'd trot across the Hudson, without much knowing or caring what was anything. The Indians call him Mungnokah; but, as his father's father was an Englishman, we call him Proctor."
"But can he be relied upon?" asked Lord H----. "He was recommended to me very strongly by General Webb, who employed him upon some difficult services."
Woodchuck mused. "Webb's recommendation," he said, at length, "is not worth much; for what would one give for any word out of the mouth of a man who would suffer a gallant comrade to fall, and a noble garrison to be butchered, without striking one stroke, or moving one step to their assistance? But if I recollect right, this Proctor is the runner who contrived to get through Montcalm's army and all the savage devils that were with him, and carried poor Munro's despatches to Webb. What became of the other one, nobody knows; but I guess we could find his scalp, if we sought well amongst the Hurons. Yes, this must be the man, I think; and if it be, you couldn't find a better. At all events, you can trust him for holding his tongue, and that's something in a runner. He wouldn't get up words enough in ten years to tell any secret you wanted to keep. And now, general, I've come to talk with you about what's to be done; and I think we had better settle that before the man goes. He'll get to Prevost's to-night, if he stays these two hours; and I guess we can settle sooner than that, for I've thought the matter over, and made up my mind."
"And to what conclusion have you come?" asked Lord H----.
Brooks looked down, and rubbed his great hands upon his knees for a moment, as if he hesitated to give the resolution he had formed, after so painful a struggle, the confirmation of uttered words.
"Not a pleasant one," he said, at length--"not one easily hit upon, my lord, but the only one--after all, the only one. I had a sore tussle with the devil last night, and he's a strong enemy. But I beat him--manful, hand to hand. He and I together, and no one to help either of us."
The nobleman thought that his poor friend's wits were beginning to wander a little; and, to lead him back from the diabolical encounter he spoke of, he said, changing the subject abruptly, "I suppose I could send no one better than this man Proctor?"
"I'll tell you what it is, Lord H----," answered Woodchuck, "I must go myself. There's no one can save Walter Prevost but Brooks. He's the man who must do it."