“I will answer for Pigeonswing with my life.”
“I am glad to hear you say so, for I do not half like HIM. Perhaps I am prejudiced against him. The scalp he took down at the mouth of the river set me against him from the first.”
“Do you not know, Margery, that your great friend goes by the name of 'Scalping Peter'?”
“Yes, I know it very well; but I do not believe he ever took a scalp in his life.”
“Did he ever tell you as much as that?”
“I can't say that he did; but he has never paraded anything of the sort before my eyes, like Pigeonswing. I do not half like that Chippewa, dear Bourdon.”
“No fear of him, Margery; nor, when I come to think it all over, do I see why Peter should have brought us here, if he means anything wrong. The man is so mysterious, that I cannot line him down to his hole.”
“My word for it, Bourdon, that when you DO, it will take you to a friendly hive. I have put almost as much faith in Peter as in you or Gershom. You heard what he said about Parson Amen and the corporal.”
“And how coolly he took it all,” answered her husband, shaking his head. “It has been a sudden departure for them, and one would think even an Injin might have felt it more.”
Margery's cheek grew pale, and her limbs trembled a little. It was a minute ere she could pursue the discourse.