Affectionately answering the grasp of his noble looking uncle, (such was the consanguinity of the parties,) Henry Grantham turned at the same time his eloquent eye upon that of the chieftain, and, in a few brief but expressive sentences, conveyed, in the language of the Warrior, (with which the brothers were partially conversant), the gratification he experienced in his unchanged confidence in the absent officer.
As he concluded, with a warmth of manner that delighted him to whom he addressed himself, their hands met for the third time that day. Tecumseh at length replied, by pointing significantly to the canoes which still lay floating on the river, unemptied of their warriors, staling at the same time, that had not his confidence in his young friend been unbounded, he would long since have dispatched those canoes in pursuit; but he was unwilling the officer should lose any of the credit that must attach to the capture. "I know," he concluded, "where he is lying like the red skin in ambush for his enemy. Be patient, and we shall soon see him."
Before Henry Grantham could find time to inquire if the place of ambush was not the same to which his own hopes, induced by his perfect knowledge of localities, had, throughout, pointed as the spot most likely to conceal the hitherto invisible gun boat, his attention, and that of his immediate companion, was drawn to a scene that carried a glow of exaltation to the bosoms of them all.
The American boat, long since out of range of the battery, and scudding with a speed that mocked the useless exertion of those on board of the second gun boat, who could with difficulty impel her through the powerful eddy, formed by the Island, had been gradually edging from her own shore into the centre of the stream. This movement, however, had the effect of rendering her more distinguishable to the eye, breasting, as she did, the rapid stream, than while hugging the land, even when much nearer, she had been confounded with the dark outline of brushwood which connected the forest with the shore. She had now arrived opposite a neck of land beyond which ran a narrow, deep creek, the existence of which was known only to few, and here it chanced that in the exultation of escape, (for they were not slow to perceive the difficulties opposed to the progress of their pursuer,) they gave a cheer that was echoed back from either shore, hoisting at the same moment the American colours. Scarcely, however, had this cheer been uttered, when a second and more animating, was heard from a different point, and presently, dashing into the river, and apparently issuing from the very heart of the wood, was to be seen the gun boat which had been the subject of so much conversation, every stitch of her white canvass bellying from the masts, and her dark prow buried in a wreath of foam created by her own speed. As she neared the American, a column of smoke, followed a second or two later, by a dull report, rose from her bows, enveloping her a moment from the view, and when next visible she was rapidly gaining on the chase. The yells of the Indians, and the hurrahs of the soldiers gave an indescribable animation to the scene.
This was, indeed, a moment of proud triumph to the heart of Henry Grantham. He saw his brother not only freed from every ungenerous imputation, but placed in a situation to win to himself the first laurels that were to be plucked in the approaching strife. The "Canadian" as he imagined he had been superciliously termed, would be the first to reap for Britain's sons the fruits of a war in which those latter were not only the most prominent actors, but also the most interested. Already in the enthusiasm of his imagination, he pictured to himself the honor and promotion, which bestowed upon his gallant brother, would be reflected upon himself, and, in the deep excitement of his feelings he could not avoid saying aloud, heedless of the presence of his uncle:
"Now, Captain Molineux, your own difficulty is removed—my brother has revenged himself. With me you will have an account to settle on my own score."
"What do you mean, Henry?" seriously inquired Colonel D'Egville; "surely you have not been imprudent enough to engage in a quarrel with one of your brother officers."
Henry briefly recounted the conversation which had taken place between Captain Molineux and himself.
"Far be it from my intention to check the nice sense of honor which should be inherent in the breast of every soldier," returned his uncle impressively, "but you are too sensitive, Henry; Captain Molineux, who is, moreover, a very young man, may not have expressed himself in the most guarded manner, but he only repeated what I have been compelled to hear myself—and from persons not only older, but much higher in rank. Take my advice, therefore, and let the matter rest where it is; Gerald, you see, has given the most practical denial to any observations which have been uttered of a nature derogatory to his honor."
"True," quickly returned the youth, with a flushing cheek, "Gerald is sufficiently avenged, but you forget the taunt he uttered against Canadians."