“There come Elmsley and Winnebeg, but unaccompanied,” remarked Captain Headley, when, in reply to his inquiry as to the cause of her long absence, she said she would tell him later. “I fear that they have been unable to prevail upon Maria to leave the new home of her election.”
“I am sorry for it,” gravely returned his wife. “I must say her choice is not exactly what I should have expected; but here they are—we shall soon know. Well, Mr. Elmsley,” she added, as that officer ascended the veranda, followed by Winnebeg, “what news do you bring of the truant?”
“I scarcely know whether to consider it good or bad,” returned the lieutenant, with an air of disappointment; “but I have not seen Mrs. Ronayne. There seems to have been more method than madness in her language to Wau-nan-gee of yesterday, for this morning she departed with him to Detroit.”
“Indeed,” remarked Mrs. Headley; “you surprise me, Mr. Elmsley; but does she perform that long journey on foot?”
“No; Winnebeg ascertained from his wife that she was mounted on her own horse, and that Wau-nan-gee, having visited and returned from. Hardscrabble during the night with a couple of trunks, she had made up two large packages, which were tied to the back of her saddle, while the youth strapped two others similarly prepared with provisions, behind his own pony. Thus provided, and Wau-nan-gee with his rifle on his shoulder and otherwise well armed, they set out at daybreak.
“Poor Maria! what your eventful destiny will be, heaven only knows,” sighed Mrs. Headley; “for not only the road but the course you pursue is one beset with danger. But our lots are now cast in different channels, and we have need of attention to ourselves. Come in, Winnebeg, while I relate to you the somewhat narrow escape I have again had from the tomahawk since you left this morning.”
“Good God! what do you mean?” simultaneously exclaimed the two officers. Winnebeg stared and looked as if he did not fully comprehend.
“Oh! quite an adventure, I can assure you; and who do you think was my devoted knight-errant?”
“What a subject to jest about, Ellen!” remarked her husband, half reprovingly. “To whom do you allude?”
“Only the tall warrior who tried so desperately to get your wife's scalp, Mr. Elmsley.”