I had little time to answer this very singular sort of reasoning; for, just then, Herman Mordaunt appeared among us, and gave us serious duty to perform. The explanations with which his orders were preceded, were these. As had been anticipated, the Indians had adopted the only means that could prove effective against such a fortress as the Nest without the aid of artillery. They were making their preparations to set the building on fire, and had been busy all night in collecting a large amount of pine-knots, roots, &c., which they had succeeded in piling against the outer logs, at the point where one wing touched the cliff, and where the formation of the ground enabled them to approach the building without incurring much risk. Their mode of proceeding is worthy of being related. One of the boldest and most skilful of their number had crept to the spot, and posted himself so close to the logs as to be safe from observation, as well as reasonably safe from shot. His associates had then extended to him one end of a long pole, they standing below, some on a shelf of the cliff, and the rest on the ground; all being safe from harm so long as they kept close to their respective covers. Thus disposed, these children of the forest passed hours in patient toil, in forwarding by means of a basket, the knots, and 'other combustibles, up to the warrior, who kept his position close under the building, and who piled them in the way most favourable to his object.

Susquesus had the merit of discovering the projected attempt, the arrangements for which had completely escaped the vigilance of the sentinels. It would seem that the Onondago, aware of the artifices of the red-man, and acquainted in particular with the personal character of Jaap's friend. Muss, did not believe the night would go by without some serious attempt on the house. The side of the cliff was much the weakest point of the fortress, having no other protection than the natural obstacles of the rocks, which were not inaccessible, though somewhat difficult of ascent, and the low picketing, already mentioned. Under such circumstances, the Indian felt certain the assault would be made on that side. Placing himself on watch, therefore, he discovered the first attempts of the Hurons, but did not let them be known to Herman Mordaunt, until they were nearly completed; his reason for the delay being the impatience of the pale-faces, which would not have suffered the enemy to accomplish his object, so far as preparations were concerned; the thing of all others he himself thought to be the most desirable. By allowing the Hurons to waste their time and strength in making arrangements for an assault that was foreseen, and which might be met and defeated, a great advantage was obtained; whereas, by driving them prematurely from an artifice they were known to be engaged in, they would have recourse to another, and the difficulty of discovery would be added to our other disadvantages. So Susquesus reasoned, as was said at the time; and it is certain that so he acted.

But, the time had come to meet these covert preparations Herman Mordaunt now held a consultation, on the subject of our proceedings. The question submitted was, whether we ought to let the Hurons go any further; whether we should shoot the adventurous savage who was known still to be posted under the logs of the house, and scatter his pile of knots, by a sortie; or, whether it were wiser to let the enemy proceed to the extremity of actually lighting his fire, before we unmasked. Something was to be said in favour of each plan. By shooting the savage who had made a lodgment under our walls, and scattering his pile, we should unquestionably defeat the present attempt; but, in all probability, another would be made the succeeding night; whereas, by waiting to the last moment, such an effectual repulse might be given to our foes, as would at once terminate their expedition.

On consultation, and weighing all the points as they offered, it was decided to adopt the latter policy. But one spot commanded a view of the pile at all, and that was a loop, that had been cut only the day before, and which looked directly down on the place, from a projection that existed in the second story, and which ran around the whole building. These projections were common enough, in the architecture of the provinces at that day, being often adopted in exposed positions, purposely to afford the means of protecting the inferior and external portions of the dwellings. The Nest possessed this advantage, though the loops necessary to complete the arrangement, had only quite recently been cut. At this loop, then, I stationed myself, for a short time, watching what was going on below. The night was dark, but there was no difficulty, in distinguishing the pile of knots, which to me seemed several feet high, besides being of some length, or in noting the movements of the Indian who had built it. At the moment I took my stand at the loop, this man was actually engaged in setting fire to his combustibles.

For several minutes Guert and I watched our enemy while he was thus employed, for the Huron was obliged to proceed with the utmost caution, lest a light prematurely shed around should betray him. He cautiously lighted his knots quite within the pile, having left a place for that purpose; and his combustibles were well in flames before the latter began to throw their rays to any distance. We had a quantity of water provided in the room from which we beheld all these movements, and might at any time have extinguished the fire, by pouring a stream through our loop, provided we did not wait too long. But Guert objected to 'spoiling the sport,' as he called it, insisting that the logs of the house would be slow to ignite, and that we might at any moment scatter the knots, by a rapid sortie. His wish was to let the enemy proceed in his designs, as far as would be at all safe, in order to render his defeat more overwhelming.

Owing to our position, directly over his head, we had no chance to see the face of the incendiary while he was thus engaged. At length he cast a glance upward, as if to note the effect of the flames, which were beginning to throw their forked tongues above the pile, when we both recognised Jaap's prisoner, Muss. The sight proved too much for Guert's philosophy, and thrusting the muzzle of his rifle through the loop, he blazed away at him, without much regard to aim. This report was a sort of signal for action, the whole house, and all the outer, world appearing to be in a clamour in an instant. I had no means of seeing Muss, but some of our look-outs, who had him in view most of the time, told me, after all was over, that the fellow seemed much astonished at the suddenness of this assault; that he gazed up at the loop an instant, uttered a loud exclamation, then yelled the war-whoop at the top of his voice, and went bounding off into the darkness, like a buck put up unexpectedly from his lair. The fields all around the Nest seemed to be alive with whooping demons. Herman Mordaunt had done little towards embellishing the place; and stumps were standing in hundreds all about it, many having been left within twenty yards of the buildings. It now seemed as if every one of these stumps had an Indian warrior lodged behind it, while bands of them appeared to be leaping about in the gloom, under the rocks. At one time, I fancied we must be surrounded by hundreds of these ruthless foes, though I now suppose that their numbers were magnified by their activity and their infernal yells. They manifested no intention to attack, nevertheless, but kept screaming around us in all directions, occasionally discharging a rifle, but, as a whole, waiting the moment when the flames should have done their work.

Considering the fearful circumstances in which he was placed, Herman Mordaunt was wonderfully collected. For myself, I felt as if I had fifty lives to lose, Anneke being, uppermost in my thoughts. The females, however, behaved uncommonly well; making no noise, and using all the self-command they could assume, in order not to distract the exertions of their husbands and friends. Some of the wives of the sturdy settlers, indeed, actually exhibited a species of stern courage that would have done credit to soldiers; appearing in the court, armed, and otherwise rendering themselves useful. It often happened that women of this class, by practising on deer, and wolves, and bears, got to be reasonably expert with fire-arms, and did good service in attacks on their dwellings. I remarked, in all the commoner class of females, that night, a sort of fierce hostility to their savage foes, in whom they doubtless saw only the murderers of children, and wretches who made no distinction of sex or age, in pursuing their heartless warfare. Many of them appeared like the dams of the inferior animals when their young were in danger.

An interval of ten or fifteen minutes must have occurred between the moment when Guert discharged his rifle and that in which the battle really began. All this time the fire was gathering head, our tardy attempts to extinguish it proving a complete failure. But little apprehension was felt on this account, however, the flames proving an advantage, by casting their light far into the fields, and even below the rocks, while they did not reach the court at all; thus placing a portion of the enemy, should they venture to attack, under a bright light, while it left us in darkness. The only point, however, at which we could fear a serious assault, was on the side of the rocks, where the court had no other protection than the low, but close and tolerably strong picket. Fortunately, the formation of the ground on that side prevented one who stood on the meadows below from firing into the court from any point within the ordinary range of the rifle. It was this circumstance that had determined the site of the garrison.

Such was the state of things when Anneke's own girl came to ask me to go to her mistress, if it were possible for me to quit my station, were it only for a minute. Having no particular duty to perform, there was no impropriety in complying with a request which, in itself, was every way so grateful to my feelings. Guert was near me at the time, and heard what the young negress said; this induced him to inquire if there was no message for himself; but, even at that serious moment, Mary Wallace did not relent. She had been kinder than common in manner, the previous night, as the Albanian had admitted; but, at the same time, she had appeared to distrust her own resolution so much, as even to give less direct encouragement than had actually escaped her on previous occasions.

I found Anneke expecting me in that little parlour where I had so recently listened to her sweet confessions of tenderness the evening before. She was alone, the instinct of her sex teaching her the expediency of having no witness of the feelings and language that might escape two hearts that were united as were ours, under circumstances so trying. The dear girl was pale as death when I entered; she had doubtless been thinking of the approaching conflict, and of what might be its frightful consequences; but, my presence instantly caused her face to be suffused with blushes, it being impossible for her sensitive mind not to revert to what had so lately occurred. This truth to the instinctive principle of her nature could hardly be extinguished in woman, even at the stake itself. Notwithstanding the liveliness and varying character of her feelings, Anneke was the first to speak.

"I have sent for you, Corny," she said, laying a hand on her heart, as if to quiet its throbbings, "to say one word in the way of caution—I hope it is not wrong."

"You can do nothing wrong, beloved Anneke," I answered; "or, nothing that would seem so in my eyes. Be not thus agitated. Your fears have increased the danger, which we consider as trifling. The risks Guert, Dirck, and myself have already run, are tenfold those which now beset us."

The dear girl submitted to have an arm of mine passed around her waist, when her head dropped on my breast, and she burst into tears. Enabled by this relief to command her feelings a little, it was not long ere Anneke raised herself from the endearing embrace I felt impelled to give her, though still permitting me to hold both her hands; and she looked up into my face, with the full confidence of affection, renewing the discourse.

"I could not suffer you to engage in this terrible scene, Corny," she said, without one word, one look, one sign of the interest I feel in you. My dear, dear father has heard all; and, though disappointed, he does not disapprove. You know how warmly he has wished Mr. Bulstrode for a son, and can excuse that preference; but he desired me, not ten minutes since, as he left me, after giving me a kiss and his blessing, to send for you, and to say that he shall hereafter look upon you as my and his choice. Heaven alone knows whether we are to be permitted to meet again, dear Corny; but, should that never be granted us, I feel it will relieve your mind to know that we shall meet as the members of one family."

"We are the only children of our parents, Anneke, and our union will gladden their hearts almost as much as it can gladden our own."

"I have thought of this, already. I shall have a mother, now; a blessing I hardly ever knew!"

"And one that will dearly, dearly love you, as I know by her own opinions, again and again expressed in my presence."

"Thank you, Corny—and thanks to that respected parent, too. Now, go, Corny; I am fearful this selfish gratification only adds to the danger of the house—go; I will pray for your safety."

"One word, dearest;—poor Guert!—You cannot know how disappointed he is, that I alone should be summoned here, at such a moment."

Anneke seemed thoughtful, and it struck me she was a little distressed.

"What can I do to alter this?" she said, after a short pause. "A woman's judgment and her feelings may not impel her the same way; then Mary Wallace is a girl who appreciates propriety so highly!"

"I understand you, Anneke. But, Guert is of so noble a disposition, and acknowledges all his defects so meekly, and with so much candour! Man cannot love woman better than he loves Mary Wallace. Her extreme prudence is a virtue, in his eyes, even while he suffers by it."

"I cannot change Mary Wallace's nature, Corny," said Anneke, smiling sadly, and, as I fancied, in a way that said 'were it I, the virtues of Guert should soon outweigh his defects;' "but Mary will be Mary, and we must submit. Perhaps to-morrow may bring her wavering mind to something like decision; for these late events have proved greatly Mr. Ten Eyck's friends. But Mary is an orphan, and prudence has been taught her as her great protection. Now, go, Corny, lest you be missed."

The dear girl parted from me hurriedly, but not without strong manifestation of feeling. I folded her to my heart; that being no moment for affectations or conventional distance; and I know I was, while I trusted Anneke might be, none the less happy for remembering we had exchanged these proofs of mutual attachment.

Just as I reached the court, I heard a yell without, which my experience before Ty had taught me was the whoop the Hurons give when they attack. A rattling fire succeeded, and we were instantly engaged in a hot conflict. Our people fought under one advantage, which more than counter-balanced the disadvantage of their inferiority in numbers. While two sides of the buildings, including that of the meadows, or the one on which an assault could alone be successful, were in bright light, the court still remained sufficiently dark to answer all the purposes of defence. We could see each other, but could not be distinguished at any distance. Our persons, when seen from without, must have been confounded, too, with the waving shadows of the pickets.

As I approached the pickets, through the openings of which our people were already keeping up a dropping fire on the dark-looking demons who were leaping about on the meadows below, I learned from Herman Mordaunt, himself, who received me by an affectionate squeeze of the hand, that a large body of the enemy was collected directly under the rocks, and that Guert had assumed the duty of dislodging them. He had taken with him, on this service, Dirck, Jaap, and three or four more of the best men, including both of our Indians. The manner in which he proposed to effect this object was bold, and like the character of the leader of the party. As so much depended on it, and on its success, I will explain a few of its more essential details.

The front of the house ranged north and south, facing westward. The two wings, consequently, extended east and west. The fire had been built at the verge of the cliff, and at the north-east angle of the building. This placed the north and east sides of the square in light, while it left the west and south in deep darkness. The gate opening to the west, it was not a very hopeless thing to believe it practicable to lead a small party round the south-west angle of the house, to the verge of the cliff, where the formation of the ground would allow of a volley's being given upon those savages who were believed to be making a lodgment directly beneath our pickets, with a view of seizing a favourable moment to scale them. On this errand, then, Herman Mordaunt now gave me to understand my friends had gone.

"Who guards the gate, the while?" I asked, almost instinctively.

"Mr. Worden, and your old acquaintance and my new tenant, Newcome. They are both armed, for a parson will not only fight the battles of the spirit, but he will fight those of the field, when concerned. Mr. Worden has shown himself a man in all this business."

Without replying, I left Herman Mordaunt, and proceeded to the gate myself, since there was little to be done in the court. There we were strong enough; stronger, perhaps, than was necessary; but I greatly distrusted Guert's scheme, the guard at the gate, and most of all the fire.

I was soon at Mr. Worden's side. There the reverend gentleman was, sure enough, with Jason Newcome at his elbow. Their duty was to keep the gate in that precise condition in which it could be barred, or unbarred, at the shortest notice, as friends or foes might seek admission. The parties appeared to be fully aware of the importance of the trust they filled, and I asked permission to pass out. My first object was the fire, for it struck me Herman Mordaunt felt too much confidence in his means of extinguishing it, and that our security had been neglected in that quarter. I was no sooner outside the buildings, therefore, than I turned to steal along the wall to the north-west corner, where alone I could get a view of the dangerous pile.

The brightness of the glare that was gleaming over the fields and stumps, that came within the compass of the light from the fire, added to my security by the contrast, though it did not tell well for that particular source of danger. The dark stumps, many of which were charred by the fires of the clearing, and were absolutely black, seemed to be dancing about in the fields, under the waving light, and twice I paused to meet imaginary savages ere I had gained the corner of the house. Each alarm, however, was idle, and I succeeded in obtaining the desired view. Not only were the knots burning fiercely, but a large sheet of flame was clinging to the logs of the house, menacing us with a speedy conflagration. The danger would have been greater, but a thunder-shower had passed over the settlement only an hour before we were alarmed, and coming from the north, all that side of the house had been well drenched with rain. This occurred after 'Muss' had commenced his pile, or he might have chosen another side of the building. The deep obscurity of that gust, however, was probably one of the means of his success. He must have been at work during the whole continuance of the storm.

I was not absent from the gate two minutes. That brief space was sufficient for my first purpose. I now desired Jason to enter the court, and to tell Herman Mordaunt not to delay a moment in applying the means for extinguishing the flames. There was greater danger from them than there possibly could be from any other attack upon the pickets, made in the darkness of the morning. Jason was cool by temperament, and he was a good agent to be employed on such a duty. Promising to be quick, he left us, and I turned my face towards Guert and his party. As yet, nothing had been heard of the last. This very silence was a source of alarm, though it was difficult to imagine the adventurer had met with an enemy, since such a collision must have been somewhat noisy. A few spattering shot, all of which came from the west side of the buildings, and the flickering light of the fire, were the only interruptions to the otherwise death-like calm of the hour.

The same success attended me in reaching the south-west as in reaching the north-west angle of the house. To me, it seemed as if the savages had entirely abandoned the fields in my vicinity. When I took my stand at this corner of the building, I found all its southern side in obscurity, though sufficient light was gleaming over the meadows to render the ragged edges of the cliff visible in that direction. I looked along the log walls to this streak of light, but could see no signs of my friends. I was certain they were not under the house, and began to apprehend some serious indiscretion on the part of the bold Albanian. While engaged in endeavouring to get a clue to Guert's movements, by devouring every dark object I could perceive with my eyes, I felt an elbow touched lightly, and saw a savage in his half-naked, fighting attire, at my side. I could see enough to ascertain this, but could not distinguish faces. I was feeling for my hunting-knife, when the Trackless's voice stayed my hand.

"He wrong"—said the Onondago, with emphasis. "Head too young—hand good—heart good—head very bad. Too much fire—dark here—much better."

This characteristic criticism on poor Guert's conduct, served to tell the whole story. Guert had put himself in a position in which the Onondago had refused to remain; in other words, he had gone to the verge of the cliff, where he was exposed to the light of the fire, and where he was necessarily in danger of being seen. Still, no signs of him were visible, and I was on the point of moving along the south side of the building, to the margin of the rocks, when the Trackless again touched my arm, and said "There!"

There our party was, sure enough! It had managed to reach the verge of the rocks at a salient point, which placed them in an admirable position for raking the enemy, who were supposed to be climbing to the pickets, with a view to a sudden spring, but at a dangerous distance from the buildings. The darkness had been the means of their reaching that point, which was about a hundred yards from the spot where I had expected to find them, and admirably placed for the intended object. The whole procedure was so much like Guert's character, that I could not but admire its boldness, while I condemned its imprudence. There was, however, no time to join the party, or to warn its leader of the risks he ran. We, who stood so far in the rear, could see and fully appreciate all the danger, while he probably did not. There the whole party of them stood, plainly though darkly drawn in high relief, against the light beyond, each poising his rifle and making his dispositions for the volley. Guert was nearest to the verge of the rocks, actually bending over them; Dirck was close at his side; Jaap just behind Dirck; Jumper close at Jaap's elbow; and four of the settlers, bold and hardy men, behind the Oneida.

I could scarcely breathe, for painful expectation, when I saw Guert and his companions thus rising from the earth, bringing their entire figures in front of the back-ground of light. I could have called out to warn them of the danger they ran; but it would have done no good, nor was there time for remonstrances. Guert must have felt he occupied a dangerous position, and what he did was done very promptly. Ten seconds after I saw the dark forms, all their rifles were discharged, as it might be at a single crack. One instant passed, in death-like stillness, through all the fields, and in the court; then came a volley from among the stumps at a little distance from our side of the building, and the adventurers on the rocks, or those that could, rushed towards the gate. Two of the settlers, however, and the Oneida, I saw fall, myself. The last actually leaped upward, into the air, and went down the cliff. But Guert, Dirck, Jaap, and the other two settlers, had moved away. It was at that moment that my ears were filled with such yells as I had not supposed the human throat could raise, and all the fields on our side of the house seemed alive with savages. To render the scene more appalling, that was the precise instant when the water, previously provided by Herman Mordaunt, fell upon the flames, and the light vanished, almost as one extinguishes a candle. But for this providential coincidence, there was scarce a chance for the escape of one of the adventurers. As it was, rifle followed rifle, from among the stumps, though it was no longer with any certain aim.

The battle had now become a melee. The savages went leaping and whooping forward in the darkness, and heavy blows were given and taken. Guert's clear, manly voice was heard, rising above the clamour, encouraging his companions to press through the throng of their assailants, in tones full of confidence. Both the Trackless and myself discharged our rifles at the foremost of the Hurons, and each certainly brought down his man; but it was not easy to see what we could do next. To stand aloof and see my friends borne down by numbers was impossible, however, and Susquesus and myself fell upon the enemy's rear. This charge of ours had the appearance of a sortie, and it produced a decided effect on the result, opening a passage by which Dirck and the two settlers issued from the throng, and joined us. This was no sooner done, than we all had to stand at bay, retreating little by little, as we could. The result would still have been doubtful, even after we had succeeded in reaching the south-western angle of the building, had it not been for a forward movement on the part of Herman Mordaunt, at the head of half-a-dozen of his settlers. This reinforcement came into the affair with loaded rifles, and a single discharge, given as soon as we were in a line with our friends, caused our assailants to vanish, as suddenly as they had appeared. On reflecting on the circumstances of that awful night, in after-life, I have thought that the force in the rear of the Hurons began to melt away, even before Herman Mordaunts support was received, leaving their front weak and unsustained. At any rate, the enemy fled to their covers, as has just been related, and we entered the gate in a body, closing and barring it, as soon as possible.

I can scarcely describe the change that had come over the appearance of things in that eventful night. The fire was extinguished, even to the embers, and deep darkness had succeeded to the glimmering, waving red light of the flames. The yells, and whoops, and screams, and shouts, for our men had frequently thrown back the defiance of their foes in cheers, were done; a stillness as profound as that of the grave reigning over the whole place. The wounded seemed ashamed even to groan; but our hurt, of whom there were four, went into the house to be cared for, stern and silent. No enemy was any longer to be apprehended beneath the pickets, for the streak of morning was just appearing above the forest, in the east, and Indians rarely attack under the light of day. In a word, that night, at least, was passed, and we were yet protected by Providence.

Herman Mordaunt now bethought him of ascertaining his precise situation, the extent of his own loss, and, as far as possible, of that which we had inflicted on the enemy. Guert was called for, to aid in this inquiry, but no Guert was to be found! Jaap, too, was absent. A muster was had, and then it was found that Guert Ten Eyck, Jaap Satanstoe, Gilbert Davis, and Moses Mudge were all wanting. The Jumper, too, did not appear; but I accounted for him, and for the two settlers named, having actually seen them fall. Day returned to us slowly, while agitated by the effect of these discoveries; but it brought no relief. We soon ventured to re-open the gates, knowing no Indian would remain very near the building, while it was light; and, having examined all the dangerous covers, we passed outside the court with confidence, in quest of the bodies of our friends. Not an Indian was seen, Jumper excepted. The Oneida lay at the foot of the rocks, dead, and scalped; as did Davis and Mudge on the summit. Everything else human had disappeared. Dirck was confident that six or seven of the Hurons fell by the volley from the cliff, but the bodies had been carried off. As to Guert and Jaap, no traces of them remained, dead or alive.



CHAPTER XXIX.

"She looked on many a face with vacant eye, On many a token without knowing what; She saw them watch her without asking why, And reck'd not who around her pillow sat; Not speechless, though she spoke not; not a sigh Relieved her thoughts: dull silence and quick chat Were tried in vain by by those who served; she gave No sign, save breath, of having left the grave."

BYRON.

It was a most painful moment to me, when Herman Mordaunt, an hour after all these facts were established, came to summon me to the presence of Anneke and Mary Wallace. One gleam of joy, one ray of the sunshine of the heart, shone on Anneke's sweet countenance as she saw me unharmed enter the room, but it quickly disappeared in the strong sympathy she felt for the sufferings of her friend. As for Mary Wallace, death itself could hardly have left her more colourless, or with features more firmly impressed with the expression of mental suffering. Anneke was the first to speak.

"God be praised that this dreadful night is passed, and you and my dearest father are spared!" the precious girl said, with fervour, pressing the hand that had taken one of hers, in both her own. "For this much, at least, we can be grateful; would I could add for the safety of us all!"

"Tell me the worst at once, Mr. Littlepage," added Mary Wallace; "I can bear anything better than uncertainty. Mr. Mordaunt says that you know the facts better than any one else, and that you must relate them. Speak, then, though it break my heart to hear it!—is he killed?"

"I hope, through Heaven's mercy, not. Indeed, I think not; though I fear he must be a prisoner."

"Thank you for that, dear, dear Mr. Littlepage! Oh! Thank you for that, from the bottom of my heart. But may they not torture him? Do not these Hurons torture their prisoners? Conceal nothing from me, Corny; you cannot imagine how much self-command I have, and how well I can behave. Oh! conceal nothing."

Poor girl! At the very moment she was boasting of her fortitude and ability to endure, her whole frame was trembling from head to foot, her face was of the hue of death, and the smile with which she spoke was frightfully haggard. That pent-up passion, which had so long struggled with her prudence, could no longer be suppressed. That she really loved Guert, and that her love would prove stronger than her discretion, I had not doubted, now, for some months; but, never having before witnessed the strength of any feeling that had been so long and so painfully suppressed, I confess that this exhibition of a suffering so intense, in a being so delicate, so excellent, and so lovely, almost unmanned me. I took Mary Wallace's hand and led her to a chair, scarce knowing what to say to relieve her mind. All this time, her eye never turned from mine, as if she hoped to learn the truth by the aid of the sense of sight alone. How anxious, jealous, distrustful, and yet beseeching was that gaze!

"Will he be tortured?" She rather whispered huskily, than asked aloud.

"I trust, by God's mercy, not. They have taken my slave, Jaap, also; and it is far more probable that he would be the victim, in such a case, than Mr. Ten Eyck—"

"Why do you call him Mr. Ten Eyck? You have always called him Guert of late—you are his friend—you think well of him—you cannot be less his friend, now that he is miserable, than when he was happy, and the pride of all human eyes, in his strength and manly beauty!"

"Dear Miss Wallace, compose yourself, I do entreat of you—no one will cling to Guert longer than I."

"Yes; I have always thought this—always felt this. Guert cannot be low, or mean in his sentiments, while an educated gentleman, like Corny Littlepage, is his friend. I have written to my aunt, and we must not be too hasty in our judgments. The spirit and follies of youth will soon be over, and then we shall see a shining character in Guert Ten Eyck. Is not this true, Anneke?"

Anneke knelt at the side of her friend, folded her in her arms, drew the quivering head down upon her own sympathising bosom, and held it there a moment, in the very attitude of protecting, solacing love. After a brief pause, Mary Wallace burst into tears, and I have ever thought that that relief, under God's mercy, saved her reason. In a few minutes, the sufferer became more calm, when she retired into herself, as was her wont, leaving Anneke and me to discuss the subject.

After turning all the chances and probabilities in our minds, I promised my companions not to lose a moment, but to use immediate means of ascertaining all that could be ascertained, in Guert's behalf, and of doing everything that could be done, to save him.

"You will not deceive me, Corny," whispered Mary Wallace, pressing my hand at leave-taking, in both her own. "I know I can depend on you, for he boasts of being your friend."

Anneke's painful smile added force to this request, and I tore myself away unwilling to quit such a sufferer, yet unable to remain. Herman Mordaunt was seen conversing with Susquesus, in the court, and I joined him at once, determined to lose no time.

"I was speaking to the Trackless on this very subject," answered Herman Mordaunt, as soon as I had explained my purpose, "and am now waiting for his answer. Do you think it, then, safe to send a messenger out to the Hurons, in order to inquire after our friends, and to treat with them!"

"No send?—Why not?" returned the Indian. "Red man glad to see messenger. Go when he want; come back when he want. How can make bargain, if scalp messenger?"

I had heard that the most savage tribes respected a messenger; and, indeed, the necessity of so doing was, of itself, a sort of security that such must be the case. It was true, that the bearer of a flag might be in more danger, on such an errand, than would be the case in a camp of civilized men; but these Canada-Indians had been long serving with the French, and their chiefs, beyond a question, had obtained some of the notions of pale-face warfare. Without much reflection, therefore, and under an impulse in behalf of my friend, and my slave—for Jaap's fate was of lively interest with me—I volunteered to bear a flag myself. Herman Mordaunt shook his head, and seemed reluctant to comply.

"Anneke would hardly pardon me for consenting to that," he answered. "You must remember, now, Corny, that a very tender and sensitive heart is bound up in you, and you must no longer act like a thoughtless, single man. It would be far better to send this Onondago, if he will agree to go. He understands the red men, and will be able to interpret the omens with more certainty, than any of us, What say you, Susquesus; will you be a messenger to the Hurons?"

"Sartain;—why no go, if he want? Good to be messenger, sometime. Where wampum—what tell him?"

Thus encouraged, we deliberated together, and soon had Susquesus in readiness to depart. As for the Indian, he laid aside all his arms, washed the war-paint from his face, put a calico shirt over his shoulders, and assumed the guise of peace. We gave him a small, white flag to carry, feeling certain that the Huron chiefs must understand its meaning; and thinking it might be better, in bearing a message from pale-faces, that he who carried it should have a pale-face symbol of his errand. Susquesus found some wampum, too; having as much faith in that, probably, as in anything else. He then set forth, being charged to offer liberal ransom to the Hurons, for the living, uninjured bodies of Guert Ten Eyck and Jaap Satanstoe.

We entertained no doubt that the enemy would be found in the ravine, for that was the point, in every respect, most favourable to the operations of the siege; being near the house, having a perfect cover, possessing water, wood, and other conveniences. From that point the Nest could be watched, and any favourable chance improved. Thither, then, Susquesus was told to proceed; though it was not thought advisable to fetter one so shrewd, with too many instructions. Several of us accompanied the Onondago to the gate, and saw him moving across the fields, towards the wood, in his usual loping trot. A bird could scarcely have flown more directly to its object.

The half-hour that succeeded the disappearance of Susquesus, in the mouth of the ravine, was one of intensely painful suspense. We all remained without the gate, waiting the result, including Dirck, Mr. Worden, Jason, and half-a-dozen of the settlers. At length the Onondago reappeared; and, to our great joy, a group followed him, in which were both the prisoners. The last were bound, but able to walk. This party might have contained a dozen of the enemy, all of whom were armed. It moved slowly out of the ravine, and ascended to the fields that were on a level with the house, halting when about four hundred yards from us. Seeing this movement, we counted out exactly the same number of men, and went forward, halting at a distance of two hundred yards from the Indians. Here we waited for our messenger, who continued on, after the Hurons had come to a stand. Thus far everything looked propitious.

"Do you bring us good news?" Herman Mordaunt eagerly asked. "Are our friends unhurt?"

"Got scalp—no hurt—take prisoner—jump on 'em, ten, two, six—cotch 'em, then. Open eyes; you see."

"And the Hurons—do they seem inclined to accept the ransom? Rum, rifle, blanket and powder; you offered all, I hope, Susquesus?"

"Sartain. No forget; that bad. Say take all that; some more, too."

"And they have come to treat with us? What are we to do, now, Susquesus?"

"Put down rifle—go near and talk. You go—priest go—young chief go—that t'ree. Then t'ree warrior lay down rifle, come talk, too. Prisoner wait. All good."

This was sufficiently intelligible, and believing that anything like hesitation might make the condition of Guert desperate, we prepared to comply. I could see that the Rev. Mr. Worden had no great relish for the business, but was ashamed to hang back when he saw Herman Mordaunt cheerfully advancing to the interview. We three were met by as many Hurons, among whom was Jaap's friend 'Muss,' who was evidently the leading person of the party. Guert and Jaap were held, bound, about a hundred yards in the rear, but near enough to be spoken to, by raising the voice. Guert was in his shirt and breeches, with his head uncovered, his fine curly hair blowing about in the wind, and I thought I saw some signs of blood on his linen. This might be his own, or it might have come from an enemy. I called to him, therefore, inquiring how he did, and whether he were hurt.

"Nothing to speak of, Corny, I thank you," was the cheerful answer; "these red gentlemen have had me tied to a tree, and have been seeing how near they could hurl their tomahawks without hitting. This is one of their customary amusements, and I have got a scratch or two in the sport. I hope the ladies are in good spirits, and do not let the business of last night distress them."

"There is blessed news for you, Guert—Susquesus, ask these chiefs if I may go near my friend to give him one word of consolation—on my honour, no attempt to release him will be made by me, until I return here."

I spoke earnestly, and the Onondago interpreted what I had said into the language of the Hurons. I had made this somewhat hardy request, under an impulse that I found ungovernable, and was surprised, as well as pleased, to find it granted. These savages confided in my word, and trusted to my honour with a stately delicacy that might have done credit to the manners of civilized kings, giving themselves no apparent concern about my movements, although they occurred in their own rear. It was too late to retract, and, leaving Herman Mordaunt endeavouring to drive a bargain with Muss and his two companions, I proceeded, unconcerned myself, boldly towards the armed men who held Guert and Jaap prisoners. I thought my approach did cause a slight movement among these savages, and there was a question and answer passed between them and their leaders. The latter said but a word or two, but these were uttered authoritatively, and with a commanding toss of a hand. Brief as they were, they answered the purpose, and I was neither molested nor spoken to, during the short interview I had with my friend.

"God bless you, Corny, for this!" Guert cried with feeling, as I warmly shook his hand. "It requires a warm heart, and a bold one too, to lead a man into this 'lion's den.' Stay but a moment, lest some evil come of it, I beg of you. This squeeze of the hand is worth an estate to a man in my situation; but remember Anneke. Ah! Corny, my dear friend, I could be happy even here, did I know that Mary Wallace grieved for me!"

"Then be happy, Guert. My sole object in venturing here, was to tell you to hope everything in that quarter. There will be no longer any coyness, any hesitation, any misgivings, when you shall be once restored to us."

"Mr. Littlepage, you would not trifle with the feelings of a miserable captive, hanging between torture and death, is my present case! I can hardly credit my senses; yet, you would not mock me!"

"Believe all I say—nay, all you wish, Guert. It is seldom that woman loves as she loves, and this I swear to you. I go now, only to aid Herman Mordaunt in bringing you where your own ears shall hear such proofs of what I say, as have been uttered in mine."

Guert made no answer, but I could see he was profoundly affected. I squeezed his hand, and we parted, in the full hope, on my side at least, that the separation would be short. I have reason to think Guert shed tears; for, on looking back, I perceived his face turned away from those who were nearest to him. I had but a single glance at Jaap. My fellow stood a little in the rear, as became his colour; but he watched my countenance with the vigilance of a cat. I thought it best not to speak to him, though I gave him a secret sign of encouragement.

"These chiefs are not very amicably disposed, Corny," said Herman Mordaunt, the instant I rejoined him. "They have given me to understand that Jaap will be liberated on no terms whatever. They must have his scalp, as Susquesus tells me, on account of some severity he himself has shown to one of these chiefs. To use their own language, they want it for a plaster to this warrior's back. His fate, it would seem, is sealed, and he has only been brought out yonder, to raise hopes in him that are to be disappointed. The wretches do not scruple to avow this, in their own sententious manner. As for Guert, they say he slew two of their warriors, and that their wives will miss their husbands, and will not be easily quieted unless they see his scalp, too. They offer to release him, however, on either of two sets of terms. They will give up Guert for two of what they call chiefs, or for four common men. If we do not like those conditions, they will exchange him, on condition we give two common men for him, and abandon the Nest to them, by marching out, with all my people, before the sun is up above our heads."

"Conditions that you cannot accept, under any circumstances, I fear, sir?"

"Certainly not. The delivery of any two is out of the question—would be so, even to save my own life. As for the Nest and its contents, I would very willingly abandon all, a few papers excepted, had I the smallest faith in the chiefs' being able to restrain their followers; but the dreadful massacre of William-Henry is still too recent, to confide in anything of the sort. My answer is given already, and we are about to part. Possibly, when they see us determined, they may lower their demands a little."

A grave parting wave of the hand was given by Muss, who had conducted himself with great dignity in the interview, and the three Hurons walked away in a body.

"Best go," said Susquesus, significantly. "Maybe want rifle. Hurons in 'arnest."

On this hint, we returned to our friends, and resumed our arms. What succeeded, I learned in part by the relations of others, while a part was witnessed by my own eyes. It seems that Jaap, from the first, understood the desperate nature of his own position. The remembrance of his mis-deeds in relation to Muss, whose prisoner he had more especially become, most probably increased his apprehensions, and his thoughts were constantly bent on obtaining his liberty, by means entirely independent of negotiation. From the instant he was brought out of the ravine, he kept all his eyes about him, watching for the smallest chance of effecting his purpose. It happened that one of the savages so placed himself before the negro, who was kept behind all near him, as to enable Jaap to draw the Huron's knife from its sheath without being detected: He did this while I was actually with the party, and all eyes were on me. Guert and himself were bound, by having their arms fastened above the elbows, behind the back; and when Guert turned aside to shed tears, as mentioned, Jaap succeeded in cutting his fastenings. This could be done, only while the savages were following my retreating form with their eyes. At the same time Jaap gave the knife to Guert, who did him a similar service. As the Indians did not take the alarm, the prisoners paused a moment, holding their arms as if still bound, to look around them. The Indian nearest Guert had two rifles, his own and that of Muss, both leaning negligently against his shoulder, with their breeches on the ground. To these weapons Guert pointed; and, when the three chiefs were on the point of rejoining their friends, who were attentive to their movements in order to ascertain the result, Guert seized this savage by his arm, which he twisted until the Indian yelled with pain, then caught one rifle, while Jaap laid hold of the other. Each fired and brought down his man; then they made an onset with the butts of their pieces on the rest of the party. This bold assault, though so desperate in appearance, was the wisest thing they could do; as immediate flight would have left their enemies an opportunity of sending the swift runners of their pieces in pursuit.

The first intimation we had of any movement of this sort was in the reports of the rifles. Then, I not only saw, but I heard the tremendous blow Jaap gave to the head of Muss; a blow that demolished both the victim and the instrument of his destruction. Though the breech of the rifle was broken, the heavy barrel still remained, and the negro flourished it with a force that swept all before him. It is scarcely necessary to say Guert was not idle in such a fray. He fought for Mary Wallace, as well as for himself, and he overturned two more of the Indians, as it might be, in the twinkling of an eye. Here Dirck did good service to our friends. His rifle was in his hands, and, levelling it with coolness, he shot down a powerful savage who was on the point of seizing Guert from behind. This was the commencement of a general war, volleys now coming from both parties; from ourselves, and from the enemy, who were in the cover of the woods. Intimidated by the fury of the personal assault under which they were suffering, the remaining Indians near Guert and the negro leaped away towards their friends, yelling; leaving their late prisoners free, but more exposed to fire than they could have been when encircled even by enemies.

Everything passed with fearful rapidity. Guert seized the rifle of a fallen Indian, and Jaap obtained another, when they fell back towards us, like two lions at bay, with rifle-bullets whizzing around them at every step. Of course, we fired, and we also advanced to meet them; an imprudent step, since the main body of the Hurons were covered, rendering the contest unequal. But, there was no resisting the sympathetic impulses of such a moment, or the exultation we all felt at the exploits of Guert and Jaap, enacted, as they were, before our eyes. As we drew together, the former shouted and cried—

"Hurrah! Corny, my noble fellow—let us charge the woot—there'll not be a reat-skin left in it, in five minutes. Forwart, my friends—forwart, all!"

It certainly was an exciting moment. We all shouted in our turns, and all cried 'forward,' in common. Even Mr. Worden joined in the shout, and pressed forward. Jason, too, fought bravely; and we went at the wood like so many bull-dogs. I fancy the pedagogue thought the fee-simple of his mills depended on the result. On we went, in open order, reserving our fire for the last moment, but receiving dropping shots, that did us no harm, until we dashed into the thicket.

The Hurons were discomfited, and they fled. Though a panic is not usual among those wild warriors, they seldom rally on the field. If once driven, against their will, a close pursuit will usually disperse them for a time; and such was the case now. By the time I got fairly into the ravine, I could see or hear of no enemy. My friends were on my right and left, shouting and pressing on; but there was no foe visible. Guert and Jaap were in advance, for we could not overtake them; and they had fired, for they got the last glimpses of the enemy. But one more shot did come from the Hurons in that inroad. It was fired from some one of the retreating party, who must have been lingering in its rear. The report sounded far up the ravine, and it came like a farewell and final gun. Distant as it was, however, it proved the most fatal shot to us that was fired in all that affair. I caught a glimpse of Guert, through the trees, and saw him fall. In an instant, I was at his side.

What a change is that from the triumph of victory to the sudden approach of death! I saw by the expression of Guert's countenance, as I raised him in my arms, that the blow was fatal. The ball, indeed, had passed directly through his body, missing the bones, but injuring the vitals. There is no mistaking the expression of a death-wound on the human countenance, when the effect is direct and not remote. Nature appears to admonish the victim of his fate. So it was with Guert.

"This shot has done for me, Corny," he said, "and it seems to be the very last they intended to fire. I almost hope there can be no truth in what you told me of Mary Wallace!"

That was neither the time nor the place to speak on such a subject, and I made no answer. From the instant the fall of Guert became known, the pursuit ceased, and our whole party collected around the wounded man. The Indian alone seemed to retain any consciousness of the importance of knowing what the enemy was doing, for his philosophy was not easily disturbed by the sudden appearance of death among us. Still he liked Guert, as did every one who could get beyond the weaknesses of his outer character, and fairly at the noble traits of his manly nature. Susquesus looked at the sufferer a moment, gravely and not without concern; then he turned to Herman Mordaunt, and said—

"This bad—save scalp, that good, though. Carry him in house. Susquesus follow trail and see what Injin mean."

As this was well, he was told to watch the enemy, while we bore our friend towards the Nest. Dirck consented to precede us, and let the melancholy truth be known, while I continued with Guert, who held my hand the whole distance. We were a most melancholy procession, for victors. Not a serious hurt had any of our party received, in this last affair, the wound of Guert Ten Eyck excepted; yet, I question if more real sorrow would have been felt over two or three other deaths. We had become accustomed to our situation; it is wonderful how soon the soldier does; rendering death familiar, and disarming him of half his terrors; but calamities can, and do occur, to bring back an army to a sense of its true nature and its dependence on Providence. Such had been the effect of the loss of Lord Howe, on the troops before Ticonderoga, and such was the effect of the fall of Guert Ten Eyck, on the small band that was collected to defend the possessions and firesides of Ravensnest.

We entered the gate of the house, and found most of its tenants already in the court, collected like a congregation in a church that awaits the entrance of the dead. Herman Mordaunt had sent an order to have his own room prepared for the sufferer, and thither we carried Guert. He was placed on the bed; then the crowd silently withdrew. I observed that Guert's eyes turned anxiously and inquiringly around, and I told him, in a low voice, I would go for the ladies myself. A smile, and a pressure of the hand, showed how well I had interpreted his thoughts.

Somewhat to my surprise, I found Mary Wallace, pale it is true, but comparatively calm and mistress of herself. That instinct of propriety which seems to form a part of the nature of a well-educated woman, had taught her the necessity of self-command, that no outbreak of her feelings should affect the sufferer. As for Anneke, she was like herself, gentle, mourning, and full of sympathy for her friend.

As soon as apprised of the object of my visit, the two girls expressed their readiness to go to Guert. As they knew the way, I did not attend them, purposely proceeding an another direction, in order not to be a witness of the interview. Anneke has since told me, however, that Mary's self-command did not altogether desert her, while Guert's cheerful gratitude probably so far deceived her as to create a short-lived hope that the wound was not mortal. For myself, I passed an hour in attending to the state of things in and around the house, in order to make certain that no negligence occurred still to endanger our security. At the end of that time, I returned to Guert, meeting Herman Mordaunt near the door of his room.

"The little hope we had is vanished," said the last, in a sorrowful tone. "Poor Ten Eyck has, beyond a question, received his death-wound, and has but a few hours to live. Were my people safe, I would rather that everything at Ravensnest, house and estate, were destroyed, than had this happen!"

Prepared by this announcement, I was not as much surprised as I might otherwise have been, at the great change that had occurred in my friend, since the time I quitted his room. It was evident he anticipated the result. Nevertheless he was calm; nay, apparently happy. Nor was he so much enfeebled as to prevent his speaking quite distinctly, and with sufficient ease. When the machine of life is stopped by the sudden disruption of a vital ligament, the approaches of death, though more rapid than with disease, are seldom so apparent. The first evidences of a fatal termination are discovered rather through the nature of the violence, than by means of apparent effects.

I have said that Guert seemed even happy, though death was so near. Anneke told me, subsequently, that Mary Wallace had owned her love, in answer to an earnest appeal on his part, and, from that moment, he had expressed himself as one who was about to die contented. Poor Guert! It was little he thought of the dread future, or of the church on earth, except as the last was entitled to, and did receive on all occasions, his outward respect. It seemed that Mary Wallace, habitually so reserved and silent among her friends, had been accustomed to converse freely with Guert, and that she had made a serious effort, during her residence in Albany, to enlighten his mind, or rather to arouse his feelings on this all-important subject, and that Guert, sensible of the pleasure of receiving instruction from such a source, always listened with attention. When I entered the room, some allusion had just been made to this theme.

"But for you, Mary, I should be little better than a heathen," said Guert, holding the hand of his beloved, and scarce averting his eyes from their idol a single instant. "If God has mercy on me, it will be on your account."

"Oh! no—no—no—Guert, say not, think not thus!" exclaimed Mary Wallace, shocked at this excess of his attachment even for herself at such a moment. "We all receive our pardons through the death and mediation of his Blessed Son. Nothing else can save you, or any of us, my dear, dear Guert; and I implore you not to think otherwise."

Guert looked a little bewildered; still he looked pleased. The first expression was probably produced by his not exactly comprehending the nature of that mysterious expiation, which baffles the unaided powers of man, and which, indeed, is to be felt, rather than understood. The look of pleasure had its origin in the 'dear, dear Guert,' and, more than that, in the consciousness of possessing the affections of the woman he had so long loved, almost against hope. Guert Ten Eyck was a man of bold and reckless character, in all that pertained to risks, frolic, and youthful adventure; but the meekest Christian could scarcely possess a more lowly opinion of his own frailties and sins, than this dashing young fellow possessed of his own claims to be valued by such a being as Mary Wallace. I often wondered how he ever presumed to love her, but suppose the apparent vanity must be ascribed to the resistless power of a passion that is known to be the strongest of our nature. It was also a sort of moral anomaly that two so opposed to each other in character; the one verging on extreme recklessness, the other pushing prudence almost to prudery; the one so gay as to seem to live for frolic, the other quiet and reserved should conceive this strong predilection for each other; but so it was. I have heard persons say, however, that these varieties in temperament awaken interest, and that they who have commenced with such dissimilarities, but have assimilated by communion, attachment, and habits, after all, make the happiest couples.

Mary Wallace lost all her reserve, in the gush of tenderness and sympathy, that now swept all before it. Throughout the whole of that morning, she hung about Guert, as the mother watches the ailing infant. If his thirst was to be assuaged, her hand held the cup; if his pillow was to be replaced, her care suggested the alteration; if his brow was to be wiped, she performed that office for him, suffering no other to come between her and the object of her solicitude.

There were moments when the manner in which Mary Wallace hung over Guert, was infinitely touching. Anneke and I knew that her very soul yearned to lead his thoughts to dwell on the subject of the great change that was so near. Nevertheless, the tenderness of the woman was so much stronger than even the anxiety of the Christian, that we perceived she feared the influence on his wound. At length, happily for an anxiety that was beginning to be too painful for endurance, Guert spoke on the subject, himself. Whether his mind adverted naturally to such a topic, or he perceived the solicitude of his gentle nurse, I could not say.

"I cannot stay with you long, Mary," he said, "and I should like to have Mr. Worden's prayers, united to yours, offered up in my behalf. Corny will seek the Dominie, for an old friend?"

I vanished from the room, and was absent ten minutes. At the end of that time, Mr. Worden was ready in his surplice, and we went to the sick room. Certainly, our old pastor had not the way of manifesting the influence of religion, that is usual to the colonies, especially to those of the more northern and eastern portion of the country; yet, there was a heartiness in his manner of praying, at times, that almost persuaded me he was a good man. I will own, however, that Mr. Worden was one of those clergymen who could pray much more sincerely for certain persons, than for others. He was partial to poor Guert; and I really thought this was manifest in his accents, on this melancholy occasion.

The dying man was relieved by this attention to the rites of the church. Guert was not a metaphysician; and, at no period of his life, I believe, did he ever enter very closely into the consideration of those fearful questions which were connected with his existence, origin, destination, and position, in the long scale of animated beings. He had those general notions on these subjects, that all civilized men imbibe by education and communion with their fellows, but nothing more. He understood it was a duty to pray; and I make no doubt he fancied there were times and seasons in which this duty was more imperative than at others; and times and seasons when it might be dispensed with.

How tenderly and how anxiously did Mary Wallace watch over her patient, during the whole of that sad day! She seemed to know neither weariness nor fatigue. Towards evening, it was just as the sun was tinging the summits of the trees with its parting light, she came towards Anneke and myself, with a face that was slightly illuminated with something like a glow of pleasure, and whispered to us, that Guert was better. Within ten minutes of that moment, I approached the bed, and saw a slight movement of the patient's hand, as if he desired me to come nearer.

"Corny," said Guert, in a low, languid voice—"it is nearly all over. I wish I could see Mary Wallace, once more, before I die!"

Mary was not, could not be distant. She fell upon her knees, and clasped the yielding form of her lover to her heart. Nothing was said on either side; or, if aught were said, it was whispered, and was of a nature too sacred to be communicated to others. In that attitude did this young woman, long so coy and so difficult to decide, remain for near an hour, and in that quiet, cherishing, womanly embrace, did Guert Ten Eyck breathe his last.

I left the sufferer as much alone with the woman of his heart, as comported with prudence and a proper attention on my part; but it was my melancholy duty to close his eyes. Thus prematurely terminated the earthly career of as manly a spirit as ever dwelt in human form. That it had imperfections, my pen has not concealed; but the long years that have since passed away, have not served to obliterate the regard so noble a temperament could not fail to awaken.



CHAPTER XXX.

How slow the day slides on! When we desire Time's haste, he seems to lose a match with lobsters: And when we wish him stay, he imps his wings With feathers plumed with thought.

ALBAMAZAR.

It is unnecessary to dwell on the grief that we all felt for our loss. That night was necessarily one of watchfulness but few were inclined to sleep. The return of light found us unmolested, however; and an hour or two later, Susquesus came in, and reported that the enemy had retreated towards Ticonderoga. There was nothing more to fear from that quarter, and the settlers soon began to return to their dwellings, or to such as remained. In the course of a week the axe again rang in the forest, and rude habitations began to reappear, in the places of those that had been destroyed. As Bulstrode could not well be removed, Herman Mordaunt determined to pass the remainder of the season at Ravensnest, with the double view of accommodating his guest, and of encouraging his settlers. The danger was known to be over for that summer at least, and, ere the approach of another, it was hoped that the humiliated feelings of Great Britain would so far be aroused, as to drive the enemy from the province; as indeed was effectually done.

On consultation, it was decided that the body of Guert ought to be sent, for interment among his friends, to Albany. Dirck and myself accompanied it, as the principal attendants, all that remained of our party going with us. Herman Mordaunt thought it necessary to remain at Ravensnest, and Anneke would not quit her father. The Rev. Mr. Worden's missionary zeal had, by this trial, effectually evaporated, and he profited by so favourable an occasion to withdraw into the safer and more peopled districts. I well remember as we marched after the horse-litter that carried the remains of poor Guert, the divine's making the following sensible remarks:—

"You see how it is, on this frontier, Corny," he said; "it is premature to think of introducing Christianity. Christianity is essentially a civilized religion, and can only be of use among civilized beings. It is true, my young friend, that many of the early apostles were not learned, after the fashion of this world, but they were all thoroughly civilized. Palestine was a civilized country, and the Hebrews were a great people; and I consider the precedent set by our blessed Lord is a command to be followed in all time, and that his appearance in Judea is tantamount to his saying to his apostles, 'go and preach me and my gospel to all civilized people.'"

I ventured to remark that there was something like a direct command to preach it to all nations, to be found in the bible.

"Ay, that is true enough," answered Mr. Worden, "but it clearly means all civilized nations. Then, this was before the discovery of America, and it is fair enough to presume that the command referred solely to known nations. The texts of scripture are not to be strained, but are to be construed naturally, Corny, and this seems to me to be the natural reading of that passage. No, I have been rash and imprudent in pushing duty to exaggeration, and shall confine my labours to their proper sphere, during the remainder of my days. Civilization is just as much a means of providence as religion itself; and it is clearly intended that one should be built on the other. A clergyman goes quite far enough from the centre of refinement, when he quits home to come into these colonies to preach the gospel; letting alone these scalping devils the Indians, who, I greatly fear, were never born to be saved. It may do well enough to have societies to keep them in view, but a meeting in London is quite near enough ever to approach them."

Such, ever after, appeared to be the sentiments of the Rev. Mr. Worden, and I took no pains to change them. I ought, however, to have alluded to the parting with Anneke, before I gave the foregoing extract from the parson's homily. Circumstances prevented my having much private communication with my betrothed before quitting the Nest; for Anneke's sympathy with Mary Wallace was too profound to permit her to think much, just then, of aught but the latter's sorrows. As for Mary herself, the strength and depth of her attachment and grief were never fully appreciated, until time came to vindicate them. Her seeming calm was soon restored, for it was only under a tempest of feeling that Mary Wallace lost her self-command; and the affliction that was inevitable and irremediable, one of her regulated temperament and high principles, struggled to endure with Christian submission. It was only in after-life that I came to know how intense and absorbing had, in truth, been her passion for the gay, high-spirited, ill-educated, and impulsive young Albanian.

Anneke wept for a few minutes in my arms, a quarter of an hour before our melancholy procession quitted the Nest. The dear girl had no undue reserve with me; though I found her a little reluctant to converse on the subject of our own loves, so soon after the fearful scenes we had just gone through. Still, she left me in no doubt on the all-important point of my carrying away with me her whole and entirely undivided heart. Bulstrode she never had, never could love. This she assured me, over and over again. He amused her, and she felt for him some of the affection and interest of kindred, but not the least of any other interest. Poor Bulstrode! now I was certain of success, I had very magnanimous sentiments in his behalf, and could give him credit for various good qualities that had been previously obscured in my eyes. Herman Mordaunt had requested nothing might be said to the major of my engagement; though an early opportunity was to be taken by himself, to let the suitor understand that Anneke declined the honour of his hand. It was thought the information would best come from him.

"I shall be frank with you, Littlepage, and confess I have been very anxious for the union of my daughter and Mr. Bulstrode," added Herman Mordaunt, in the interview we had before I left the Nest; "and I trust to your own good sense to account for it. I knew Bulstrode before I had any knowledge of yourself; and there was already a connection between us, that was just of a nature to render one that was closer, desirable. I shall not deny that I fancied Anneke fitted to adorn the station and circles to which Bulstrode would have carried her; and, perhaps, it is a natural parental weakness to wish to see one's child promoted. We talk of humility and contentment, Corny, though there is much of the nolo episcopari about it, after all. But you see that the preference of the child is so much stronger than that of the parent, that it must prevail. I dare say, after all, you would much rather be Anneke's choice, than be mine?"

"I can have no difficulty in admitting that, sir," I answered; "and I feel very sensible of the liberal manner in which you yield your own preferences to our wishes. Certainly, in the way of rank and fortune, I have little to offer, Mr. Mordaunt, as an offset to Mr. Bulstrode's claims; but, in love for your daughter, and in an ardent desire to make her happy, I shall not yield to him, or any other man, though he were a king."

"In the way of fortune, Littlepage, I have very few regrets. As you are to live in this country, the joint means of the two families, which, some day, must centre in you and Anneke, will prove all-sufficient; and, as for posterity, Ravensnest and Mooseridge will supply ample provisions. As the colony grows, your descendants will increase, and your means will increase with both. No, no; I may have been a little disappointed; that much I will own; but I have not been, at any time, displeased. God bless you, then, my dear boy; write us from Albany, and come to us at Lilacs bush in September. Your reception will be that of a son."

It is needless to dwell on the melancholy procession we formed through the woods. Dirck and myself kept near the body, on foot, until we reached the highway, when vehicles were provided for the common transportation. On reaching Albany, we delivered the remains of Guert to his relatives, and there was a suitable funeral given. The bricked closet behind the chimney, was opened, as usual, and the six dozen of Madeira, that had been placed in it twenty-four years before, or the day the poor fellow was christened, was found to be very excellent. I remember it was said generally, that better wine was drunk at the funeral of Guert Ten Eyck, than had been tasted at the obsequies of any individual who was not a Van Rensselaer, a Schuyler, or a Ten Broeck, within the memory of man. I now speak of funerals in Albany; for I do suppose the remark would scarcely apply to many other funerals, lower down the river. As a rule, however, very good wine was given at all our funerals.

The Rev. Mr. Worden officiated, and was universally regarded with interest, as a pious minister of the gospel, who had barely escaped the fate of the person he was now committing 'dust to dust,' while devotedly and ardently employed in endeavouring to rescue the souls of the very savages who sought his life, from the fate of the heathen.

I remember there was a very well worded paragraph to this effect in the New York Gazette, and I had heard it said, but do not remember to have ever seen it myself, that in one of the reports of the Society for the Promulgation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, the circumstances were alluded to in a very touching and edifying manner.

Poor Guert! I passed a few minutes at his grave before we went south. It was all that was left of his fine person, his high spirit, his lion-hearted courage, his buoyant spirits, and his unextinguishable love of frolic. A finer physical man I never beheld, or one who better satisfied the eye, in all respects. That the noble tenement was not more intellectually occupied, was purely the consequence of a want of education. Notwithstanding, all the books in the world could not have converted Guert Ten Eyck into a Jason Newcome, or Jason Newcome into a Guert Ten Eyck. Each owed many of his peculiarities, doubtless, to the province in which he was bred and born, and to the training consequent on these accidents; but nature had also drawn broad distinctions between them. All the wildness of Guert's impulses could not altogether destroy his feelings tone, and tact as a gentleman; while all the soaring, extravagant pretensions of Jason never could have ended in elevating him to that character. Alas! Poor Guert! I sincerely mourned his loss for years, nor has his memory yet ceased to have a deep interest with me.

Dirck Follock and I would have been a good deal caressed at Albany, on our return, both on account of what had happened, and on account of our Dutch connections, had we been in the mood to profit by the disposition of the people. But, we were not. The sad events with which we had been connected were still too recent to indulge in gaieties or company; and, as soon, as possible after the funeral, we seized the opportunity of embarking on board a sloop bound to New fork. Our voyage was generally considered a prosperous one, lasting, indeed, only six days. We took the ground three times, it is true; but nothing was thought of that, such accidents being of frequent occurrence. Among the events of this sort, one occurred in the Overslaugh, and I passed a few hours there very pleasantly, as it was so near the scene of our adventure on the river. Anneke always occupied much of my thoughts, but pleasing pictures of her gentle decision, her implicit reliance on myself, her resignation, her spirit, and her intelligence were now blended, without any alloy, in my recollections. The dear girl had confessed to me, that she loved me even on that fearful night, for her tenderness in my behalf dated much farther back. This was a great addition to the satisfaction with which I went over every incident and speech, in recollection, endeavouring to recall the most minute tone or expression, to see if I could now connect it with any sign of that passion, which I was authorized in believing did even then exist. Thus aided, equally by Anneke's gentle, blushing admissions, and my own wishes, I had no difficulty in recalling pictures that were infinitely agreeable to myself, though possibly not minutely accurate.

In the Tappaan Sea, Dirck left us; proceeding into Rockland, to join his family. I continued on in the sloop, reaching port next day. My uncle and aunt Legge were delighted to see me, and I soon found I should be a lion, had I leisure to remain in town, in order to enjoy the notoriety my connection with the northern expedition had created. I found a deep mortification pervading the capital, in consequence of our defeat, mingled with a high determination to redeem our tarnished honour.

Satanstoe, with all its endearing ties, however, called me away; and I left town, on horseback, leaving my effects to follow by the first good opportunity, the morning of the day succeeding that on which I had arrived. I shall not attempt to conceal one weakness. As usual, I stopped at Kingsbridge to dine and bait; and while the notable landlady was preparing my dinner, I ascended the heights to catch a distant view of Lilacsbush. There lay the pretty cottage-like dwelling, placed beneath the hill, amid a wilderness of shrubbery; but its lovely young mistress was far away, and I found the pleasure with which I gazed at it blended with regrets.

"You have been north, I hear, Mr. Littlepage," my landlady observed, while I was discussing her lamb, and peas and asparagus; "pray, sir, did you hear or see anything of our honoured neighbours, Herman Mordaunt and his charming daughter?"

"Much of both, Mrs. Light; and that under trying circumstances. Mooseridge, my father's property in that part of the province, is quite near to Ravensnest, Herman Mordaunt's estate, and I have passed some time at it. Have no tidings of the family reached you, lately?"

"None, unless it be the report that Miss Anneke will never return to us."

"Anneke not return! In the name of wonder, how do you hear this?"

"Not as Miss Anneke, but as Lady Anneke, or something of that sort. Isn't there a General Bulstrom, or some great officer or other, who seeks her hand, and on whom she smiles, sir?"

"I presume I understand you, now. Well, what do you learn of him?"

"Only that they are to be married next month—some say they are married already, and that the old gentleman gives Lilacsbush, out and out, and four thousand pounds currency, down, in order to purchase so high an honour for his child. I tell the neighbours it is too much, Miss Anneke being worth any lord in England, on her own, sole, account."

This intelligence did not disturb me, of course, for it was tavern-tidings and neighbours' news. Neighbours! How much is that sacred word prostituted! You shall find people opening their ears with avidity to the gossip of a neighbourhood, when nineteen times in twenty it is less entitled to credit than the intelligence which is obtained from a distance, provided the latter come from persons of the same class in life as the individuals in question, and are known to them. What means had this woman of knowing the secrets of Herman Mordaunt's family, that were one-half as good as those possessed by friends in Albany, for instance? This neighbourhood testimony, as it is called, does a vast deal of mischief in the province, and most especially in those parts of it where our own people are brought in contact with their fellow-subjects, from the more eastern colonies. In my eyes, Jason Newcome's opinions of Herman Mordaunt, and his acts, would be nearly worthless, shrewd as I admit the man to be; for the two have not a distinctive opinion, custom, and I had almost said principle, in common. Just appreciation of motives and acts can only proceed from those who feel and think alike; and this is morally impossible where there exist broad distinctions in social classes. It is just for this reason that we attach so little importance to the ordinary reports, and even to the sworn evidence, of servants.

Our reception at Satanstoe was just what might have been expected. My dear mother hugged me to her heart, again and again, and seemed never to be satisfied with feasting her eyes on me. My father was affected at seeing me, too; and I thought there was a very decided moisture in his eyes. As for old Capt. Hugh Roger, three-score-and-ten had exhausted his fluids, pretty much; but he shook me heartily by the hand, and listened to my account of the movements before Ty with all a soldier's interest, and with somewhat of the fire of one who had served himself in more fortunate times. I had to fight my battles o'er and o'er again, as a matter of course, and to recount the tale of Ravensnest in all its details. We were at supper, when I concluded my most laboured narrative, and when I began to hope my duties, in this respect, were finally terminated. But my dear mother had heavier matters still, on her mind; and it was necessary that I should give her a private conference, in her own little room.

"Corny, my beloved child," commenced this anxious and most tender parent, "you have said nothing particular to me of the Mordaunts. It is now time to speak of that family."

"Have I not told you, mother, how we met at Albany, and of what occurred on the river." I had not spoken of that adventure in my letters, because I was uncertain of the true state of Anneke's feelings, and did not wish to raise expectations that might never be realized.—"And of our going to Ravensnest in company, and of all that happened at Ravensnest after our return from Ty."

"What is all this to me, child! I wish to hear you speak of Anneke—is it true that she is going to be married?"

"It is true. I can affirm that much from her own mouth."

My dear mother's countenance fell, and I could hardly pursue my wicked equivoque any further.

"And she has even had the effrontery to own this to you, Corny?"

"She has, indeed; though truth compels me to add, that she blushed a great deal while admitting it, and seemed only half-disposed to be so frank: that is, at first; for, in the end, she rather smiled than blushed."

"Well, this amazes me! It is only a proof that vanity, and worldly rank, and worldly riches, stand higher in the estimation of Anneke Mordaunt, than excellence and modest merit."

"What riches and worldly rank have I, mother, to tempt any woman to forget the qualities you have mentioned?"

"I was not thinking of you, my son, in that sense, at all. Of course, I mean Mr. Bulstrode."

"What has Mr. Bulstrode to do with my marriage with Anne Mordaunt; or any one else but her own sweet self, who has consented to become my wife; her father, who accepts me for a son, my father, who is about to imitate his example, by taking Anneke to his heart as a daughter, and you, my dearest, dearest mother, who are the only person likely to raise obstacles, as you are now doing."

This was a boyish mode of producing a most delightful surprise, I am very ready to acknowledge; and, when I saw my mother burst into tears, I felt both regret and shame at having—practised it. But youth is the season of folly, and happy is the man who can say he has never trifled more seriously with the feelings of a parent. I was soon pardoned—what offence would not that devoted mother have pardoned her only child!—when I was made to relate all that was proper to be told, of what had passed between Anneke and myself. It is scarcely necessary to say, I was assured of the cheerful acquiescence in my wishes, of all my own family, from Capt. Hugh Roger, down to the dear person who was speaking. They had set their minds on my becoming the husband of this very young lady; and I could not possibly have made any communication that would be more agreeable, as I was given to understand from each and all, that very night.

My return to Satanstoe occurred in the last half of the month of July. The Mordaunts were not to be at Lilacsbush until the middle of September, and I had near two months to wait for that happy moment. This time was passed as well as it could be. I endeavoured to interest myself in the old Neck, and to plan schemes of future happiness there, that were to be realized in Anneke's society. It was and is a noble farm; rich, beautifully placed, having water on more than three of its sides, in capital order, and well stocked with such apples, peaches, apricots, plums, and other fruits, as the world can scarcely equal. It is true that the provinces a little further south, such as New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, think they can beat us in peaches; but I have never tasted any fruit that I thought would compare with that of Satanstoe. I love every tree, wall, knoll, swell, meadow, and hummock about the old place. One thing distresses me. I love old names, such as my father knew the same places by; and I like to mispronounce a word, when custom and association render the practice familiar. I would not call my friend, Dirck Follock, anything else but Follock, unless it might be in a formal way, or when asking him to drink a glass of wine with me, for a great deal. So it is with Satanstoe; the name is homely, I am willing to allow; but it is strong, and conveys an idea. It relates also to the usages and notions of the country; and names ought always to be preserved, except in those few instances in which there are good reasons for altering them. I regret to say, that ever since the appearance of Jason Newcome among us, there has been a disposition among the ignorant and vulgar, to call the Neck, Dibbleton; under the pretence I have already mentioned, that it once belonged to the family of Dibblees; or, as some think, as a pious diminutive of Devil's-Town. I indignantly repel this supposition; though, I do believe, that Dibbleton is only a sneaking mode of pronouncing Devilton; as, I admit, I have heard the old people laughingly term the Neck. This belongs to the "Gaul darn ye" school, and it is not to my taste. I say the ignorant and vulgar, for this is just the class to be squeamish on such subjects. I have been told—though I cannot say that I have heard it myself—but I am told, there have been people from the eastward among us of late years, who affect to call "Hell-Gate," "Hurl-Gate," or "Whirl-Gate," or by some other such sentimental, whirl-a-gig name; and these are the gentry who would wish to alter "Satanstoe" into "Dibbleton!" Since the eastern troops have begun to come among us, indeed, they have commenced a desperate inroad on many of our old, venerated Dutch names; names that the English, direct from home, have generally respected. Indeed, change—change in all things, seems to be the besetting passion of these people. We, of New York, are content to do as our ancestors have done before us; and this they ridicule, making it matter of accusation against us, that we follow the notions of our fathers. I shall never complain that they are deserting so many of their customs; for, I regard the changes as improvements; but I beg that they may leave us ours.

That there is such a thing as improvement I am willing enough to admit, as well as that it not only compels, but excuses changes; but, I am yet to learn it is matter of just reproach that a man follows in the footsteps of those who have gone before him. The apothegms of David, and the wisdom of Solomon, are just as much apothegms and wisdom, in our own time, as they were the day they were written, and for precisely the same reason—their truth. Where there is so much stability in morals, there must be permanent principles, and something surely is worthy to be saved from the wreck of the past. I doubt if all this craving for change has not more of selfishness in it than either of expediency or of philosophy; and I could wish, at least, that Satanstoe should never be frittered away into so sneaking a substitute as Dibbleton.

That was a joyful day, when a servant in Herman Mordaunt's livery rode in upon our lawn, and handed me a letter from his master, informing me of the safe arrival of the family, and inviting me to ride over next day in time to take a late breakfast at Lilacsbush. Anneke had written to me twice previously to this; two beautifully expressed, feminine, yet spirited, affectionate letters, in which the tenderness and sensibility of her nature were barely restrained by the delicacy of her sex and situation. On the receipt of this welcome invitation, I was guilty of the only piece of romantic extravagance that I can remember having committed in the course of my life. Herman Mordaunt's black was well treated, and dismissed with a letter of acceptance. One hour after he left Satanstoe—I do love that venerable name, and hope all the Yankees in Christendom will not be able to alter it to Dibbleton—but, one hour after the negro was off, I followed him myself, intending to sleep at the well-known inn at Kingsbridge, and not present myself at the Bush, until the proper hour next morning.

I had got to the house of the talkative landlady two hours before sunset, put up my horse, secured my lodgings, and was eating a bite myself, when the good housewife entered the room.

"Your servant, Mr. Littlepage," commenced this loquacious person; "how are the venerable Captain Hugh Roger, and the Major, your honoured father? Well, I see by your smile. Well, it is a comfortable thing to have our friends enjoy good health—my own poor man enjoyed most wretched health all last winter, and is likely to enjoy very much the same, that which is coming. I should think you had come to the wedding at Lilacsbush, Mr. Corny, had you not stopped at my door, instead of going on direct to that of Herman Mordaunt."

I started, but supposed that the news of what was to happen had leaked out, and that this good woman, whose ears were always open, had got hold of a neighbourhood truth for once in her life.

"I am on no such errand, Mrs. Light, but hope to be married, one of these days, to some one or other."

"I was not thinking of your marriage, sir, but that of Miss Anneke, over at the 'Bush, to this Lord Bulstrom. It's a great connection for the Mordaunts, after all, though Herman Mordaunt is of good blood, himself, they tell me. The knight's man often comes here, to taste new cider, which he admits is as good as English cider, and I believe it is the only thing which he has found in the colonies that he thinks is one-half as good; but Thomas tells me all is settled, and that the wedding must take place right soon. It has only been put off on account of Miss Wallace, who is in deep mourning for her own husband, having lost him within the honey-moon, which is the reason she still bears her own name. They tell me a widow who loses her husband in the honey-moon is obliged to bear her maiden name; otherwise Miss Mary would be Mrs. Van Goort, or something like that."