"I hardly think you do Nick justice, Willoughby," observed the right-judging and gentle wife. "He has some good qualities; but you soldiers always apply martial-law to the weaknesses of your fellow-creatures."
"And you tender-hearted women, my dear Wilhelmina, think everybody as good as yourselves."
"Remember, Hugh, when your son, there, had the canker-rash, how actively and readily the Tuscarora went into the forest to look for the gold-thread that even the doctors admitted cured him. It was difficult to find, Robert; but Nick remembered a spot where he had seen it, fifty miles off; and, without a request even, from us, he travelled that distance to procure it."
"Yes, this is true"--returned the captain, thoughtfully--"though I question if the cure was owing to the gold-thread, as you call it, Wilhelmina. Every man has some good quality or other; and, I much fear, some bad ones also.--But, here is the fellow coming back, and I do not like to let him think himself of sufficient consequence to be the subject of our remarks."
"Very true, sir--it adds excessively to the trouble of such fellows, to let them fancy themselves of importance."
Nick, now, came slowly back, after having examined the recent changes to his satisfaction. He stood a moment in silence, near the table, and then, assuming an air of more dignity than common, he addressed the captain.
"Nick ole chief" he said. "Been at Council Fire, often as cap'in. Can't tell, all he know; want to hear about new war."
"Why, Nick, it is a family quarrel, this time. The French have nothing to do with it."
"Yengeese fight Yengeese--um?"
"I am afraid it will so turn out. Do not the Tuscaroras sometimes dig up the hatchet against the Tuscaroras?"