Himself the prey of consuming anxiety, he helped to prepare the evening meal, forced himself to eat, and not until he had lit his pipe did he refer to the story which the Indian lad had told him so incoherently.
“Now, Jim,” he said, “let us get at the facts if we can. You say that your mistress and Miss La Farge are here in the North, and that they are on trail?”
“Yes, sir!”
“But I thought they were in England?”
“They returned suddenly, fourteen days ago!”
“But what were they doing on trail, so far from home, with the spring coming?”
“I do not know clearly. But they were looking for you. They had news for you. More than that was not told my father.”
“And you say that yester morning a strange Indian came to your camp with a message from a white man?”
“Yes. The white man was sick. He desired to talk with Miss Gargrave; so whilst we—my father and I struck camp, Miss La Farge and my mistress went to the cabin which was on a creek——”
“Ah!” interrupted the corporal. “Was it on the left bank?”