“You treat it lightly, and I trust it may not be ominous of your conjugal life,” resumed Lucy; “but my Aunt Kitty says that’s the reason she never married; because it was raining in torrents the day she was to have been wedded, and she discarded her lover because it was unlucky.”
“Ah, Lucy, I do not mean to doubt your good aunt’s word; but there must have been some more serious cause linked with the one you have mentioned. My life on it, I do not lose a husband for so slight a cause. It must be something more than a common occurrence, that shall now break off the match with Dick and myself. But see, the company are beginning to arrive,” said Kate, as she looked from the window of her room, “and I must prepare for the ceremony.”
The morning of the day of which we have spoken, had opened in unclouded splendor, and all seemed propitious to the nuptials that were to be solemnised in the evening. The inmates of the cabin in which the preceding conversation had been carried on, had arisen cheerfully with the first notes of the early robin, to prepare for the festival, to which the whole neighborhood, consisting of all within fifteen or twenty miles, (for neighborhoods were then large, and habitations scarce) were indiscriminately invited.
Kate Lee was the only child of her parents, and had been born and raised in the humble cottage which her father had assisted to construct with his own hands. Mr. Lee had moved to his present residence, when few ventured thus far into the Indian territory; and by his own labors, and that of his two servants, had erected a double cabin, and cleared about fifty acres of land, upon a rich piece of high ground, a mile and a half from the James River. By his urbanity and kindness, he had gained the confidence of the Indians; and in all their depredations so far, he had gone unscathed. He was of good birth and education, and the most hospitable man in the settlement. The property which he held, and the style in which he lived, together with his superior knowledge, gave him a standing among the settlers superior to all. Ever ready to assist the needy, and always just in his opinions and actions, he was looked to for council, rather than treated as an equal.
As we said before, Kate was his only child, and had been the solace of her parents for nineteen years. She had now attained to full-blown womanhood, and, from her beauty and intelligence, her hand had been often asked, by the hardy sons of the pioneers. Her heart was untouched, until young Gaston laid siege to it. To his eloquent appeals she lent a willing ear, and promised to be his bride.
As Kate was the loveliest girl in the country, so was Richard Gaston the most to be envied among the youths. Of fine, manly stature, superior intellect, and unflagging energy, he was the best match in the settlement. He cultivated a little farm on the other side of the river, and when occasion offered, engaged in the practice of law, for which both education and nature fitted him. He had been in the settlement about seven years, and from his open and conciliatory manners, his bold and manly bearing, had become a favorite with all around him. He was always the first to take up his rifle, and sally against the hostile Indians, when necessity required it, and from his undoubted courage, was always chosen leader of the little bands, formed to repel the savage foe.
When the toils of the week had passed, Gaston might be seen, with his rifle on his shoulder, moving toward the river where his canoe was fastened, and springing lightly into it, dashing through the foaming waters, and among the rocks, as safely and cheerfully, as if passing over a smooth and glassy lake; and on the following evening, he might be seen again, braving the rushing current, with the same careless ease, but more thoughtful brow; for who ever yet parted from the girl of his heart, with the same joyful aspect, which he wore when going to meet her? Let us now return to the wedding day.
“Have you heard of the Indian that was found murdered on the bank of the creek this morning?” said a young man, after the company had assembled, to Mr. Lee.
“No,” answered Mr. Lee, with surprise, “I had hoped from the long peace that has reigned, we should have no more such outrages against the poor Indians. But how is it possible, sir, if they are thus shot down, that we can expect them to be quiet?”
“The body,” continued the first speaker, “was found by some of his tribe; and they immediately threatened vengeance if the murderers were not given up. But that is impossible; because we do not know them.”