"Do not give way to apprehension," he said, "before we know more. The case is strange, undoubtedly, dear Edith; still the enigma may be solved in a happier way than you think."
Edith shook her head sadly, saying, in a low tone,--
"You do not know all, dear George--at least, I believe not. The Indians have received an offence they never forgive. They were wandering about here on the night we were caught by the fire, disappearing the next morning; and, some time during that night, my poor brother must have been--"
Tears broke off the sentence; but her lover eagerly caught at a few of her words to find some ground of hope for her--whatever he might fear himself.
"He may have been turned from his course by the burning forest," he said, "and have found a difficulty in retracing his way. The woods were still burning yesterday, and we cannot tell how far the fire may have extended. At all events, dearest Edith, we have gained some information to guide us. We can now trace poor Walter to the place where he disembarked, and that will narrow the ground we have to search. Take courage, love, and let us all trust in God."
"He says that Walter intended to disembark four miles south of the King's road," said Mr. Prevost, who had been talking earnestly to Captain Hammond. "Let us set out at once, and examine the ground between this place and that."
"I think not," remarked Lord H----, after a moment's thought. "I will ride down, as fast as possible, to the house, and gain what information I can there. Then, spreading a body of men to the westward, we will sweep all the trails up to this spot. You, and as many of your people as can be spared from the house, may come on to meet us, setting out in an hour; but, for Heaven's sake, do not leave this dear girl alone."
"I fear not--I fear not for myself," replied Edith; "only seek for Walter; obtain some news of him, and let us try to save him, if there be yet time to do so."
Covering her eyes with her handkerchief, which was wetted with her tears, Edith took no more part in what was going on, but gave herself up to bitter thought; and many and complex were the trains which it followed. Now a gleam of hope would rise up and cheer her for an instant into a belief that her lover's supposition might be correct, and that Walter might, indeed, have been cut off by the fire, and, not knowing which way it extended, might have taken a course leading far away from the house. With the hope, as ever, came the fear; and she asked herself,--
"Might he not have perished in the woods--perished of hunger--perished by the flame? But he was prompt, resolute, and accustomed, for some years, to the life of the woods. He had his rifle with him too, and was not likely to want food when that was in his hand."