"And so do I think likewise," rejoined Christie. "Let them think and say what they like, but, Mr. Drogue, I am an old Indian fighter and have served under Colonel Claus and Sir William Johnson. I know the Iroquois; I know their ways and wiles and craft and subtle designs; and I know how they think, and what they are most likely to do.
"And I say to you very solemnly, Mr. Drogue, that were I Joseph Brant I would strike Caughnawaga before snow flies. And, sir, under God, it is my honest belief that he will do exactly that very thing. And it will be a sorry business for the Valley when he does so!"
It was a dreadful thing for me to hear this veteran affirm what I myself already feared.
But I had never dreamed that the aged Douw Fonda would return to Caughnawaga, or that his sons would permit the obstinate, helpless, and childish old gentleman to so have his say and way in times like these.
Nor did I dream that Penelope would go to him again. I knew, of course, that she would surely go if he asked for her; but thought he had too completely forgotten her—as the Patroon wrote—and that his childishness and feeble memory no longer retained any remembrance of the young girl he had loved and had offered to adopt and to make his legatee.
The news that Captain Christie brought was truly dismal news for me and most alarming.
What on earth I could do about it I had no idea. Penelope, the soul of loyalty, believed that her duty lay with Mr. Fonda, and that, if he asked for her, she must go and care for him, who had been to her a father when she was poor, shelterless, and alone.
I realized that no argument, no plea of mine could move her to abandon him now. And what logic could I employ to arouse this childish and obstinate old gentleman to any apprehension of his own peril or hers?
To think of it madded me, because Mr. Fonda had three wealthy sons living near him, who could care for him properly with their ample means and all their servants and slaves. And why in God's name Captain John Fonda, Major Jelles Fonda, or Major Adam Fonda did not take some means of moving themselves and their families into the Queens Fort, or, better still, into Albany, I can not comprehend.
But it was a fact, as Christie related to me, that scarce a soul had fled from Caughnawaga. All the landed gentry remained; all people of high or low degree were still there—folk like the Veeders, Sammons, Romeyns, Hansens, Yates, Putmans, Stevens, Fishers, Gaults.