“Fa is tat,” said Peter, who first stared wildly at him, and then put himself in a posture of defence. “Is she a deserter from the garishon of Halifax?”
“I am a man of peace,” said Jehu (who appeared to have forgotten the aberrations of the last evening, and had resumed his usual sanctimoniouslyfied manner). “Swear not, friend, it is an abomination, and becometh not a Christian man.”
Peter was amazed, he could not trust his eyes, his ears, or his memory.
“Toctor,” said he, “come here for heaven’s sake, is she hern ainsel or ta tevil.”
The moment the doctor saw him, his hands as usual involuntarily protected his sides, and he burst out a laughing in his face, and then describing a circle on the grass, fell down, and rolled over, saying, “Oh, oh, that man will be the death of me.” The girls nearly went into hysterics, and Cutler, though evidently not approving of the practical joke, as only fit for military life, unable to contain himself, walked away. The French boy, Etienne, frightened at his horrible expression of face, retreated backwards, crossed himself most devoutly, and muttered an Ave Maria.
“Friend Judd,” said I, for I was the only one who retained my gravity, “thee ought not to wear a mask, it is a bad sign.”
“I wear no mask, Mr Slick,” he said, “I use no disguises, and it does not become a professing man like you to jeer and scoff because I reprove the man Peter for his profaneness.”
Peter stamped and raved like a madman, and had to resort to Gaelic to disburden his mind of his effervescence. He threatened to shoot him; he knew him very well, he said, for he had seen him before on the prairies. He was a Kentucky villain, a forger, a tief, a Yankee spy sent to excite the Indians against the English. He knew his false moustachios, he would swear to them in any court of justice in the world. “Deil a bit is ta loon Jehu Judd,” he said, “her name is prayin’ Joe, the horse-stealer.”
For the truth of this charge he appealed to his daughters, who stood aghast at the fearful resemblance his moustachios had given him to that noted borderer.
“That man of Satan,” said Jehu, looking very uncomfortable, as he saw Peter flourishing a short dirk, and the doctor holding him back and remonstrating with him. “That man of Satan I never saw before yesterday, when I entered his house, where there was fiddling and dancing, and serving the devil. Truly my head became dizzy at the sight, my heart sunk within me at beholding such wickedness, and I fell into a swoon, and was troubled with dreams of the evil one all night.”