“That there did exist a certain compactum, or agreement, between Obed Batt, M.D., and Ishmael Bush, viator, or erratic husbandman,” he said, endeavouring to avoid all offence in the use of terms, “I am not disposed to deny. I will admit that it was therein conditioned, or stipulated, that a certain journey should be performed conjointly, or in company, until so many days had been numbered. But as the said time has fully expired, I presume it fair to infer that the bargain may now be said to be obsolete.”
“Ishmael!” interrupted the impatient Esther, “make no words with a man who can break your bones as easily as set them, and let the poisoning devil go! He’s a cheat, from box to phial. Give him half the prairie, and take the other half yourself. He an acclimator! I will engage to get the brats acclimated to a fever-and-ague bottom in a week, and not a word shall be uttered harder to pronounce than the bark of a cherry-tree, with perhaps a drop or two of western comfort. One thing ar’ a fact, Ishmael; I like no fellow-travellers who can give a heavy feel to an honest woman’s tongue, I—and that without caring whether her household is in order, or out of order.”
The air of settled gloom, which had taken possession of the squatter’s countenance, lighted for an instant with a look of dull drollery, as he answered—
“Different people might judge differently, Esther, of the virtue of the man’s art. But sin’ it is your wish to let him depart, I will not plough the prairie to make the walking rough. Friend, you are at liberty to go into the settlements, and there I would advise you to tarry, as men like me who make but few contracts, do not relish the custom of breaking them so easily.”
“And now, Ishmael,” resumed his conquering wife, “in order to keep a quiet family and to smother all heart-burnings between us, show yonder Red-skin and his daughter,” pointing to the aged Le Balafré and the widowed Tachechana, “the way to their village, and let us say to them—God bless you, and farewell, in the same breath!”
“They are the captives of the Pawnee, according to the rules of Indian warfare, and I cannot meddle with his rights.”
“Beware the devil, my man! He’s a cheat and a tempter, and none can say they ar’ safe with his awful delusions before their eyes! Take the advice of one who has the honour of your name at heart, and send the tawny Jezebel away.”
The squatter laid his broad hand on her shoulder, and looking her steadily in the eye, he answered, in tones that were both stern and solemn—
“Woman, we have that before us which calls our thoughts to other matters than the follies you mean. Remember what is to come, and put your silly jealousy to sleep.”
“It is true, it is true,” murmured his wife, moving back among her daughters; “God forgive me, that I should forget it!”