"The Indians," said his host, in answer to a leading question, "are, as you say, a very revengeful people, but not more so than many other barbarous nations. Indeed, in many of their feelings and habits they greatly resemble a people I have heard of in central Asia, called Alghanns. Both, in common with almost all barbarians, look upon revenge as a duty imperative upon every family and every tribe. They modify their ideas, indeed, in case of war, although it is very difficult to bring about peace after war has commenced; but if any individual of a tribe is killed by another person in time of peace, nothing but the blood of the murderer can satisfy the family or the tribe, if he can be caught. They will pursue him for weeks and months, and employ every stratagem which their fertile brains can suggest to entrap him, till they feel quite certain that he is beyond their reach. This perseverance proceeds from a religious feeling, for they believe that the spirit of their dead relation can never enter the happy hunting grounds till his blood has been atoned for by that of the slayer."
"But if they cannot catch the slayer," asked Lord H----, "what do they do then?"
"I used a wrong expression," replied Mr. Prevost. "I should have said the blood of some other victim. It is their duty, according to their ideas, to sacrifice the slayer. If satisfied that he is perfectly beyond their power, they strive to get hold of his nearest relation. If they cannot do that, they take a man of his tribe or nation and sacrifice him. It is all done very formally, and with all sorts of consideration and consultation, for in these bloody rites they are the most deliberate people in the world, and the most persevering, also."
A few days before, Lord H---- might have plainly and openly told all the occurrences of the morning in the ears of Edith Prevost, but sensations had been springing up in his breast which made him more tender of her feelings, more careful of creating alarm and anxiety, and he kept his painful secret well till after the evening meal was over, and she had retired to her chamber. Then, however, he stopped Mr. Prevost just as that gentleman was raising a light to hand to his guest, and said: "I am afraid, my good friend, we cannot go to bed just yet. I have something to tell you which, from all I have heard since it occurred, appears to me of much greater importance than at first. Whether anything can be done to avert the evil consequences, or not, I cannot tell; but at all events, it is as well that you and I should talk the matter over."
He then related to Mr. Prevost all the events of the morning, and was sorry to perceive that gentleman's face assuming a deeper and deeper gloom as he proceeded.
"This is most unfortunate, indeed," said Mr. Prevost, at length. "I quite acquit our poor friend Brooks of any evil intent, but to slay an Indian at all, so near our house, and especially an Oneida, was most unlucky. That tribe or nation, as they call themselves, from the strong personal regard, I suppose, which has grown up accidentally between their chief and myself, has always shown the greatest kindness and friendship toward myself and my family. Before this event I should have felt myself in any of their villages as much at home as by my own fireside, and I am sure that each man felt himself as secure on any part of the lands granted to me as if he were in his own lodge. But now, as they will call it, their blood has stained my very mat, and the consequences no one can foresee. Woodchuck has himself escaped. He has no relations or friends on whom they can wreak their vengeance."
"Surely," exclaimed Lord H----, "they will never visit his offence on you or yours?"
"I trust not," replied Mr. Prevost, after a moment's thought, "but yet I cannot feel exactly sure. They will take a white man for their victim--an Englishman--one of the same nation as the offender. Probably it may not matter much to them who it is, and the affectionate regard which they entertain toward us may turn the evil aside. But yet these Indians have a sort of fanaticism in their religion, as well as we have in ours--the station and the dignity of the victim which they offer up enters into their consideration--they like to make a worthy and an honorable sacrifice, as they consider it; and just as this spirit moves them or not, they may think that anyone will do for their purpose, or that they are required by their god of vengeance to immolate someone dear to themselves, in order to dignify the sacrifice."
"This is indeed a very sad view of the affair which had never struck me," replied Lord H----, "and it may be well to consider, my dear sir, what is the best and the safest course. I must now tell you one of the objects which made me engage your son to carry my dispatches to Albany. It seemed to me, from all I have heard during my short residence with you, especially during my conference with Sir William Johnson, that the unprotected state of this part of the country left Albany itself and the settlements around it unpleasantly exposed. We know that on a late occasion it was Dieskau's intention, if he had succeeded in defeating Sir William and capturing Fort George, to make a dash at the capital of the province. He was defeated, but there is reason to believe that Montcalm, a man much his superior both in energy and skill, entertained the same views, although I know not what induced him to retreat so hastily after his black and bloody triumph at Fort William Henry. He may seize some other opportunity, and I can perceive nothing whatsoever to impede his progress or delay him for an hour, if he can make himself master of the few scattered forts which lie between Albany and Carrillon or Ticonderoga. In the circumstances, I have strongly urged that a small force should be thrown forward to a commanding point on the river Hudson, not many miles from this place, which I examined as I came hither, with an advanced post or two still nearer to your house. My own regiment I have pointed out as better fitted for the service than any other, and I think that if my suggestions are attended to, as I doubt not they will be, we can give you efficient protection. But I think," continued the young nobleman, speaking more slowly and emphatically, "that with two young people so justly dear to you--with a daughter so beautiful and in every way so charming, and so gallant and noble a lad as Walter, whose high spirit and adventurous character will expose him continually to any snares that may be set for him, it will be much better for you to retire with them both to Albany, at least till such time as you know that the spirit of Indian vengeance has been satisfied, and that the real peril has passed."
Mr. Prevost mused for several minutes, and then replied: "The motives you suggest are certainly very strong, my lord, but I have strange ways of viewing such subjects, and I must have time to consider whether it is fair and right to my fellow countrymen scattered over this district to withdraw from my share of the peril which all who remain would have to encounter. Do not argue with me upon the subject to-night--I will think over it well, and doubt not that I shall view the plan you have suggested with all the favor that paternal love can afford. I will also keep my mind free to receive any further reasons you may have to produce. But I must first consider quietly and alone. There is no need of immediate decision, for these people, according to their own code, are bound to make themselves perfectly sure that they cannot get possession of the actual slayer before they choose another victim. It is clear from what the Indian said to the negro boy, that they know the hand that did the deed, and they must search for poor Brooks first, and practice every device to allure him back before they immolate another. Let us both think over the matter well and confer to-morrow."