If anything else, any other word than "Mother!" was uttered during the next few moments, nobody heard it.
Mrs. Avery was trying to speak and could not, and it was Rachel Tarns who came to her assistance.
"Guert," she said, "thee brave boy! Thee is wounded? It is well. We are glad thou art here. Tell Mary Avery of her husband—at once! Is he with thee and her, or is he with his Father in Heaven?"
"Mother," whispered Guert, "I can't! You tell her. He was killed when we boarded the British privateer. I did all I could to save him. That's where I was cut down—"
Low as had been his whispering, there was no need for his mother to tell Mrs. Avery.
"Don't speak!" she said. "I'm going back to the house! He fell in battle!"
Around she turned, catching her breath in a great sob, and Rachel and Vine turned to go with her, putting their arms around her. Guert and his mother lingered as if it were needful for them to stand still and look into each other's faces. She glanced down, too, at his crutches, and he answered her silent question smilingly with:—
"That's getting well, mother."
"O Guert!"
"Ugh!" exclaimed a deep voice close behind them. "Up-na-tan say ole woman go home. Take boy. Ole chief mighty glad to bring boy back.—Whoo-oop!"