“Thank heaven! thank heaven!” he exclaimed fervently; “I thought you were there,”—and he pointed to the smouldering heap close by. “Has any one else escaped? Two of the women are there,”—and he pointed up the valley.
“And one is poor;”—Murray was too weak to overcome his emotion; he could not utter the name.
“I feared so—I feared so,” sighed Mr Meadows. “And her mother? Safe? Thank Providence! but let us get away from here; they may come back, and then there will be no mercy. Heaven bless you, my son!” he exclaimed fervently and gratefully to Wahika; for, seeing a gaping wound still bleeding upon the old man’s forehead, he had soaked a piece of native mat in the spring hard by, and begun tenderly to bind it up. “And you are a savage!” muttered Mr Meadows half to himself. “How can I preach to such as you, to leave your simple faith, when your white brethren do such deeds as these? No, no!” he cried; “not brethren, but the outcasts of our civilisation, let loose to raven and destroy. Thanks, thanks, my son; heaven bless you! Let us go now, friend Murray, and see those who are saved.”
The distance was but short; but, in pain from their injuries, they proceeded but slowly, Wahika stopping and looking back from time to time till they came up to him.
They had to pass the body of poor old Martin Lee; and here Mr Meadows paused, knelt down, took one stiffened hand, kissed it, and then softly replaced it by the old man’s side.
“Cut down like the wheat, and gathered into the heavenly garner. A true, blunt, honest Englishman, and a dear friend, Edward Murray.”
A tear or two fell upon the face of the inanimate form, as the old minister bent his head over him for a few moments, and then he rose.
“He looks at peace, friend Edward. Would that we could have saved him! I am weak now,” he said, wiping his eyes in a simple undisguised fashion; “but I do not see why I should feel ashamed. Let us go on.”
It was a sad meeting between the widow and the clergyman; but there seemed no time for tears. Katie was in the hands of the convicts, and how was she to be saved?
There was little said that the savage could not comprehend, though he was not so ready at expressing himself; but he said simply, and with an earnestness which bespoke his feeling.