"It may be so," I answered; "but I have many doubts." That mark on the floor-cloth, the half-open door, the windows closed--all created very terrible suspicions. With the pistol, which remained loaded still in my hand, I pushed open the door of a room on my left; it seemed to be the dining room, for there was a long mahogany table in the middle, with chairs ranged round it at a little distance. Here also was no sign of disorder, except, indeed, that there was a double-barrelled fowling-piece, still loaded and capped, lying across the table.
"This is very lucky," I said; "I shall take the liberty of appropriating this, which may serve to defend us in case of need, and may procure us food as we go along, Bessy, should we not be able to make our way to some town or village as soon as we could wish."
"Oh, Mr. Travis will easily forgive you," replied Bessy. "But let us make sure that there is nobody lurking in the house, for I think they must have left some of the coloured people behind them, otherwise the door would not have been open."
"Let me go first," I said, "and we will examine the rooms on this floor." Going out again into the hall, with the gun under my arm, I looked up the stairs and shouted,--
"Is there anybody in the house?" There was no answer; everything was still and silent. I then turned to the room opposite the dining room. It was a handsome drawing-room, neatly furnished, with books upon the table, one of them open. There was a door on the left-hand side of the room, opposite to the windows, and Bessy said,--
"That is probably Mr. and Mrs. Travis's bed-room."
"I will go in and see," I replied; "but first let me lock this door into the hall, that we may not be attacked from behind." Having done so, I moved over towards the other door, begging my fair companion to remain in the parlour while I reconnoitred; for I had a sort of presentiment that I should not go far without finding something which I would fain hide from her eyes. She followed me close, however, and I opened the door. The light was faint, for there were curtains over the windows; still I could see well enough to induce me instantly to put Bessy gently back with my left hand, saying,--
"Let me go in alone, my beloved. Here are sights not fit for you,"
"Have they not fled?" exclaimed Bessy, in a tone of alarm.
"Their spirits are fled," I answered sadly. "Their bodies are here." Entering the room, I partly closed the door, and then, undrawing the curtain, the whole terrible scene was full before me. Lying on the floor by the side of the bed, from which he had evidently started in haste, was Mr. Travis himself, with two terrible hatchet-wounds on the top of his head, one from which it seemed the weapon had glanced, and the other sinking deep into the skull. In the bed lay his wife, with her brains dashed out, and the pillow all soaked in blood. But, more horrible still, on the floor, near the foot of the bed, was a little cradle, and from it the wretches had dragged an infant not four months old, and killing it with blows of their axes, had cast it down near its father's feet. My blood ran cold. I have seen many a man fall in battle, I have passed over the field and gazed upon the slain, but I never saw any sight which so horrified me as this. When man is arrayed against man in deadly strife, the mind is prepared for scenes of death of every kind, and the hand clenching the sword or the musket, the scattered arms and broken weapons, have all that sort of harmony with the work of the fell destroyer, that they deprive it of part of its terrors. But here everything was in strange and terrible contrast. The peaceful aspect of domestic life was all around; the lightsome, gay parlour, with its open book; the instruments of music; the quiet, shaded bed-room; the little cradle with its light curtain of rosy silk--all added horror to the sight of violence and blood, and death. I could not stay to contemplate it, but left the room speedily, and closed the door. Bessy threw her arms round me, and hid her eyes and wept.