"But you said, my dear lord, that you were yourself going to Albany to-morrow, to see poor Brooks," observed Mr. Prevost. "I cannot leave Edith here alone."

All three mused for a moment or two, and Edith, perhaps, deepest of all. At length, however, she said--

"I am quite safe, my father: of that I am certain; and you will be certain too, I am sure, when you remember what I told you of Black Eagle's conduct to me on that fatal night. He threw his blanket round me, and called me his daughter. Depend upon it, long ere this, the news that I am his adopted child has spread through all the tribes; and no one would dare to lift his hand against me."

"Still, some precaution," said Lord H----.

But Edith interrupted him gently, saying, "Stay, George, one moment. Let my father answer. Do you not think, dear father, that I am quite safe? In a word, do you not believe that I could go from lodge to lodge, as the adopted daughter of Black Eagle, throughout the whole length of the Long House of the Five Nations without the slightest risk or danger? and, if so, why should you fear?"

"I do indeed believe you could," replied Mr. Prevost. "Oh that we could have extracted such an act from the chief towards poor Walter. What Edith says is right, my lord: we must judge of these Indians as we know them; and my only fear in leaving her here now, arises from the risk of incursions from the other side of the Hudson."

Lord H---- mused a little. It struck him there was something strange in Edith's way of putting the question to her father--something too precise, too minute, to be called for by any of the words which had been spoken. It excited nothing like suspicion in his mind; for it was hardly possible to look into the face, or hear the tones, of Edith Prevost, and entertain distrust. But it made him doubt whether she had not some object, high and noble he was sure, but beyond the immediate point, which she did not think fit as yet to reveal.

"I was about to say," he replied at length to the last words of Mr. Prevost, "that I can easily move a guard up here sufficient to protect the house; and I need not tell you, my dear sir," he continued, taking Edith's hand, "that as the whole treasure of my happiness is here, I would not advise you to leave her for an hour unless I felt sure she would be safe. I will send down by some of the men, who are still in the house, an order to Captain Hammond to march a guard here as early as possible to-morrow morning, under a trustworthy sergeant. As soon as it arrives, I will set out for Albany; and I think you can go to Johnson's Castle in perfect security."

So it was arranged, and all parties felt no inconsiderable relief when some course of action was thus decided. Effort in this world is everything. Even the waters of joy will stagnate; and the greatest relief to care or sorrow, the strongest support in danger or adversity, is effort.

[CHAPTER XX.]