"And can you not go to your berth for some hours' rest and sleep when you have finished your breakfast, my dear?" queried Violet, with a loving, anxious look into his face.
"Probably; after a short visit to the deck to see that all is going right there. Excuse me, my dear," he added, pushing away his plate and rising to his feet as he spoke. "I must return to my duties at once, but would have everyone else finish the meal at leisure," and with the last word he hurried away.
"My dear papa looks so tired, mamma," remarked little Elsie in regretful tones, "what has he been doing?"
"Staying up all night to take care of us," replied Violet, the tears shining in her eyes. "Don't you think we ought to love dear papa and do all we can to make him happy?"
"Yes, indeed, mamma!" answered the little girl earnestly. "Oh, I hope he can get a good sleep soon so that he will feel rested and well. I was going to ask him to tell me about what happened at the River Raisin. You know our soldiers, in that fight with the British and Indians that he told us about yesterday, called out over and over again, 'Remember the River Raisin,' and papa said he would tell me what it meant if I would ask him to-day. But I can wait till to-morrow," she added, with a sigh of resignation.
"How would it do for grandma to take your papa's place and tell you the story?" asked Grandma Elsie, in cheerful tones, and with a loving, smiling look at the little girl.
"Oh, nicely, grandma! I don't know but you could do it as well as papa could," answered the child eagerly.
"Ah, dearie, it is a very sad story, and I think I shall have to make it short," sighed Mrs. Travilla; "the details would but harrow up your feelings unnecessarily."
"Bad doings of the British and Indians, grandma?" queried the little girl.
"Yes; it was that, indeed!" said Mr. Dinsmore; "the latter part of the tragedy a terrible slaughter of defenceless prisoners—tortured, scalped, tomahawked, slain in various ways with the utmost cruelty; many of them burned alive in the houses where they lay wounded, unable to move. It was a fearful slaughter which Proctor, far from trying to prevent, rewarded with praise and the purchase of the scalps."