Until this moment I had barely opened my mouth. Now I produced the despatches committed to my care by Doctor Connolly. In presenting these to Governor Dunmore I remained standing, waiting to be dismissed.
His Excellency, however, made no move to open and read his despatches, but fell to staring at me speculatively. Finally he said:
“Let’s have the personal side—the things you observed on your journey back here.” And he motioned for me to be seated.
I told them of Bald Eagle’s murder, and His Excellency exhibited hot anger, and broke in on my recital long enough to exclaim:
“Curse their black hearts! I drove John Ryan out of the country for murdering on the Cheat, Ohio, and the Monongahela. I’ve had others arrested, and their crazy neighbors have released them. I offer rewards for still others, and they come and go unmolested!”
“Yes, it’s unfortunate that some of our border men are as murderous as the Indians,” quietly agreed Colonel Lewis. His Excellency subsided and nodded for me to continue.
I next spoke of young Shelby Cousin, and the colonel’s eyes grew hard as I related the youth’s lament over his little sister, and, in his behalf, urged that some effort be made to ascertain the girl’s fate. The governor wrinkled his nose and brows in an effort to remember something. Then he said:
“I knew the name was familiar. I’ve sent word to Connolly to seek traces of the girl through the different traders. The war has closed that line of inquiry, I fear, as the traders have come in, or have been slaughtered. Very sad case. Very sad. The young man should go to England to begin life anew and learn to forget. I shall arrange it for him.”
“He would die before he would quit the woods, Your Excellency,” said the colonel. “If he did consent and did go to England he would die of homesickness inside of ten days. Either that, or he would try to swim back.”
“Rather a poor opinion of England’s charms,” remarked the governor.