"Let my brother Ormerod be at ease," added the Indian.
"Ta-wan-ne-ars has mastered his hatred."
"Very well," I replied. "I shall be glad of your company, but we
must not be tempted to violence. There are reasons for my meekness."
"It would not be courteous for Ta-wan-ne-ars to slay his enemy in New
York when he is the guest of Ga-en-gwa-ra-go," returned the Seneca as
he walked lightly beside me.
"I, too, hate your enemy," I said.
He was silent for as much as ten paces.
"My brother means de Veulle?" he asked.
"Yes; I once crossed swords with him."
"And he lives! Did he wound my brother?"
I recounted briefly the circumstances of the duel at the Toison d'Or.
He made no comment until I had finished.
"I am glad my brother spared him," he said then. "For Ta-wan-ne-ars
has often prayed to Ha-wen-ne-yu, the Great Spirit, to give him the
life of this man who lives as though he were one of the fiends of the
Ga-go-sa.[1]
[1] False Faces.
"It is a bond between us that we have the same enemy. We did not
need such a bond, Ormerod, but it is a proof that we were meant to be
brothers."
At the next corner we met the bellman, trotting heavily.
"A citizen tells me he hath heard a horrid screech," he panted. "Do
you know aught----"
"Yes," I told him. "I was attacked by a desperado named Bolling----"
"God save us, I knew there would be mischief with that villain in our
midst!" interrupted the bellman.
"There would have been sore mischief done had not this Indian, who is
visiting the governor, come to my aid," I rejoined.
"Did you slay the man?" asked the bellman apprehensively.
"No; he fled."
"'Tis a savage rogue, and a deadly. Gadslife, my master, but you had
a fortunate escape. I will run to the watch house and give an alarm.
Aye, we should have a file of soldiers from the fort. This is no
easy task that is set for us. I will----"
His threats and adjurations died away in the distance, as he hurried
on, his regular duties forgotten.
"What think you hath become of Bolling?" I asked Ta-wan-ne-ars.
"He is beyond the city limits, brother. There are no palisades for
him to pass, and flight will be easy. He must have had a swift horse
in readiness, for he would have been obliged to flee equally had he
slain you."
"Will they catch him?"
Ta-wan-ne-ars laughed briefly, a trick he had which I afterward
discovered to be rare, although not unknown, amongst the Indians.
"Those who are charged with his pursuit? No, brother; as well might
the beaver pursue the wild pigeon. He will be buried in the
wilderness tomorrow. But some day Ta-wan-ne-ars will come up with
him--or perhaps it may be you, Ormerod. That will be a bad day for
the Red Death."
At Cawston's we looked in vain for Murray or any of his party in the
taproom and ordinary, so without a word to the servants we ascended
the stairs to the upper floor. In the hall I halted momentarily,
considering which door to knock upon, when the puzzle was solved by
the opening of the one by which we stood.
My Lady Green Cloak appeared, and she started back in amazement,
tinged with fear, at sight of me and the stalwart, half-naked figure
of the Seneca, arms folded across his painted chest, his
eagle's-feather reaching almost to the ceiling.