A staircase, rude indeed, but still a staircase, led from the more barnlike part of the building below to the upper floor, and in this respect appeared the first difference between this house--for it deserved the name--and the lodge, or castle, of King Hendrick the younger, though both had been built by European workmen, and that of King Hendrick at the cost of the British government, which was not the case with the dwelling of the Oneida chief. As soon, however, as you reached the upper floor, the differences became more frequent and more remarkable. It was partitioned off into rooms, with regular doors between them; and when Edith entered the chamber of Otaitsa she saw at once how she acquired European habits. Of rude manufacture, but still very correct as imitations, and not without a certain degree of uncouth ornament, were chairs, tables, and writing materials, a bedstead and a bed; and from wooden pegs, driven into the partition, depended some sketches--some colored, some in pencil, but all very different from the gaudy daubs which, at a later period, peddlers were accustomed to take into the Indian territory as articles of barter.
As Edith's eye glanced around, it gleaned a general notion of all these things, but her mind was too full of deeper and sadder thoughts to suffer even curiosity to turn it from its course for a moment.
"There is no one in any other chamber here," said Otaitsa, "None comes up these stairs but myself and my father. Now, Edith, speak, for Otaitsa's heart is very heavy and her mind misgives her sadly. Is it your father they have taken?"
"No; oh no!" answered Edith, "but one as dear;" and she went on briefly to relate all that had occurred, endeavoring to soften and prepare the way for intelligence which she feared would affect the Indian girl much. But Otaitsa darted at her own conclusions, divining the whole truth almost as soon as the words were spoken. She was far more affected than Edith had anticipated. She cast herself upon her fair companion's neck and wept aloud.
"He was mine, Edith," she said, in the full confidence of sorrow. "He was mine, my betrothed, my loved; and they have hidden it from me--hidden it from all the Indian women here, for they knew that everyone in the tribe loved him, though not so well as I. Where was the poor wanderer who passed your house with her infant on her back who did not receive kindness from Walter Prevost? Where was the Indian girl who could say he did not treat her with as kindly gentleness as the highest white woman in the land? He was the tree which had grown up to shelter the hut of the woodman, giving him cool shade and comfort in the days of summer and of gladness, to be cut down and burnt for fire when the winter winds are singing in the bare branches. Oh, my brother, my brother, bad is the return they make thee, and hard the measure that they deal. But shall Otaitsa suffer this?" she cried, rising vehemently, and casting her arms abroad. "Shall the Black Eagle let the ravens pick out the eyes of his young in his own nest? No! my sister, no! They shall take Otaitsa's blood first. They shall shake the Blossom from the old bough that is no longer able to bear it up against the winds of heaven. If the Black Eagle can no longer protect even his daughter's husband, let him cast away the tomahawk, let him lay down the rifle, and be a woman amongst the chiefs of his people!"
It was impossible for some minutes to stop her vehement burst of passionate sorrow; but at length Edith succeeded in somewhat calming her, beseeching her to still her agitation and her anger, and to bend her whole mind to the consideration of what means could best be used to discover whither Walter had been taken, and to rescue him from the peril in which he was placed.
As soon as Otaitsa could listen, however, or rather as soon as she caught the sense of Edith's words, and appreciated their importance, it was wonderful how rapidly she became calm, how soon she stilled all the strong and struggling emotions in her heart, and directed every effort and energy of her spirit to the one great object before her. Enough of the Indian blood flowed along her veins, enough of Indian characteristics had been acquired in early youth, to give her a portion of that strong, stoical self-command which characterized the Indian warrior rather than the woman of the race. The first burst of grief showed the woman, and, perhaps, in some degree, not the pure Indian; but the moment after, those who knew the character of the Five Nations best, might have supposed her not only a pure Indian, but a man and a chief, so quietly did she reason upon and ponder the means of accomplishing her purpose. She remained, at first, for two or three minutes in perfect silence, revolving all the circumstances in her mind, and calculating every chance. But then she said: "The first thing, Edith, is for you to go back to your poor father; not that you are in any danger, but it were well, if possible, that no one knew you had been with me, at least till I have discovered where they have hid our poor brother. The women here will all aid me, and never part their lips, if I desire them not; for though the men think they are very shrewd in hiding the secrets of the nation from their wives and daughters, the women, when they please, can be as secret and as resolute, too. At all events, whether your coming be known or not, it would be better you should go back before the chiefs return. They have gone forth to hunt, they say; but whether it be the black bear, or the brown deer, or the white man, is in great doubt, dear Edith. At all events, they will not know the object of your coming. They may suspect, and probably will, that you came to inquire for your brother; but knowing that I was ignorant of his capture, and am still ignorant of where they keep him, they will think you have gone back disappointed and in sorrow, and leave me unwatched, to act as I will."
"But can I do nothing to aid?" asked Edith. "Remember, dearest Blossom, what it is to remain inactive and ignorant while the fate of one so near and so dear hangs in the balance."
"You shall not remain in ignorance, dear Edith," replied Otaitsa. "With every possible opportunity (and I will find many) my sister shall know what the Blossom does; and if there be any way by which you could give help, you shall have instant tidings. At present I know not what is to be done to save our Walter from the power of the Snake. I know not, even, what they have decided themselves, or whether they have taken any decision; and I have much to think of, much to do. I must seek out those in whom I can place confidence; I must employ many, probably, to obtain me information; I must try some, consult with others, and judge what is to be done. You can rest here, my Edith, for this day, but to-morrow you must speed home again. But be sure of one thing--if Walter dies, Otaitsa is dead, too!"
"That is no consolation," said Edith, throwing her arms round Otaitsa's neck, with tears in her eyes. "Oh, do not do anything rash, dear Blossom! Remember, you are a Christian; and many things are forbidden to Christians as sins which are regarded as virtues by pagan nations."