Her lover turned his eyes slowly on her anxious countenance, and dwelling a moment on her features, said, still musing,—
“You say that he promised to assist Henry.”
“Certainly, of his own accord and in requital for the hospitality he had received.”
Dunwoodie shook his head, and began to look grave.
“I like not that word hospitality—it has an empty sound; there must be something more reasonable to tie Harper. I dread some mistake; repeat to me all that passed.”
Frances, in a hurried and earnest voice, complied with his request. She related particularly the manner of his arrival at the Locusts, the reception that he received, and the events that passed as minutely as her memory could supply her with the means. As she alluded to the conversation that occurred between her father and his guest, the major smiled but remained silent. She then gave a detail of Henry’s arrival, and the events of the following day. She dwelt upon the part where Harper had desired her brother to throw aside his disguise, and recounted, with wonderful accuracy, his remarks upon the hazard of the step that the youth had taken. She even remembered a remarkable expression of his to her brother, “that he was safer from Harper’s knowledge of his person, than he would be without it.” Frances mentioned, with the warmth of youthful admiration, the benevolent character of his deportment to herself, and gave a minute relation of his adieus to the whole family.
Dunwoodie at first listened with grave attention; evident satisfaction followed as she proceeded. When she spoke of herself in connection with their guest, he smiled with pleasure, and as she concluded, he exclaimed, with delight,—
“We are safe!—we are safe!”
But he was interrupted, as will be seen in the following chapter.
[13] In America justice is administered in the name of “the good people,” etc., etc., the sovereignty residing with them.