When Edith rose on the day following the visit of poor Captain Brooks,
somewhat later than was her custom--for the first half of the watches
of the night had known no comfort--Woodchuck was gone. He had waited
for no leave-taking, and was on his way toward the mountains before
the dawn of day.
It was better for all, indeed, that he should go, and he felt it. Not
that there was any chance of his resolution being shaken, but as he
had himself said, he wished to forget that resolution--to think no
more of his coming fate than the dark remembrance of it within his own
heart forced him to think; and the presence of Mr. Prevost and his
daughter--the very absence of Walter from their fireside--would have
reminded him constantly of the rock on which his bark was inevitably
steering. With Mr. Prevost and Edith his presence would have had the
effect of keeping up the struggle between affection for Walter and a
kindly sense of justice toward him. His every look, his every word,
would have been a source of painful interest, and the terrible
balancing of very narrowly divided equities, where life was in the
scale and affection held the beam, would have gone on, in the mind at
least, continually.
When he was gone the agitating feelings gradually subtranspose
themselves, and they almost looked upon him as a thing decided; the
mind was relieved from a greater apprehension by a lesser, and a quiet
melancholy, whenever his coming fate was thought of, took the place of
anxious alarm. In some sort the present and the past seemed to
transpose themselves, and they almost looked upon him as already dead.
True, all fear in regard to Walter was not completely banished. There
was nothing definite, there was no tangible object of apprehension.
They felt perfectly sure that Woodchuck would execute his resolution,
but yet the heart, like an agitated pendulum, vibrated long after the
momentum had ceased. It grew quieter and quieter by degrees, however,
on the part of Mr. Prevost; a change of thought and of object did
much. All his preparations had to be made for the proper execution of
the office he had undertaken. He had more than once to go to Albany,
and on each occasion he took his daughter with him. Each change had
some effect, and both he and Edith recovered a certain degree of
cheerfulness at last in general society. It was only in the quiet and
the silent hours, when either was left alone, when those intervals
took place during which, sleep refuses to visit the eye, when all
external sounds are still, when all external sights are absent, and
the mind is left alone with thought, and nothing but thought for its
companion--it was only then that the fear, and the anxiety, and the
gloom returned.
Every moment that could be spared from military duties were passed by
Lord H---- at Edith's side, whether in her own home or in the city.
Thus passed nearly three weeks, by which time the bustle of active
preparation, the marching of several regiments toward the north, and
signs of activity and haste in every department, gave notice to the
inhabitants of Albany that some important military movement was about
to take place. The fife and drum, the lumbering roll of the cannon,
were daily heard in the quiet streets. Boats were seen collecting on
the river, parades and exercises occupied the greater part of every
day; scouts and runners were hurrying about in all directions, and
clouds of Indians, painted and feathered for the warpath, hovered
round the city, and often appeared in the streets. Lord H---- had
advanced with his whole regiment to the neighborhood of Sandy Hill;
other bodies of troops were following, and the commissary general,
whose active energy and keen intelligence surprised all who had only
known him as a somewhat reserved and moody man, had advanced to a spot
on the Hudson where a small fort had been built at the commencement of
what was called the King's road, to see with his own eyes the safe
delivery and proper distribution of the stores he had collected. Long
ranges of huts had gathered round the fort, which was judged so far
within the English lines as to be a place of perfect security, and
many a lady from Albany, both young and old, had gathered together
there to see the last of husband, brother, or father, before they
plunged into the forest and encountered the enemy.
Here everything was done, as usual, to smooth the front of war and
conceal ugly features, and certainly after the arrival of Lord
H---- with his regiment and the wing of another, the scene was
brilliant and lively enough. Bright dresses, glittering arms, military
music, fluttering flags, and prancing chargers, were beheld on every
side, and gay and lively talk, only interrupted now and then by the
solemn words of adieu, of caution, or direction from anxious heart to
anxious heart, hid in a great degree the deeper, stronger, sterner
feelings that were busy underneath.
In all such expeditions, amidst the bustle and excitement, there come
lapses of quiet inactivity, especially before the first blow is
struck. Some accident causes a delay; some movements have not been
combined with sufficient accuracy; one party has to wait for another,
and is left unoccupied. Thus it was in the present instance. A small
but important division of the army, to be accompanied by a large body
of Indians, was retarded by a deficiency of boats, and the news
arrived that two days must elapse before they could reach the fort. A
superior officer was now present, and both Lord H---- and Mr. Prevost
felt that it would be no dereliction of duty to seek leave of absence,
in order to visit once more the house of the latter, and personally
escort Edith to the place where she was to remain till the object of
the expedition was accomplished. The same day it was first made known
what the object of that expedition was. The word Ticonderoga was
whispered through the encampment, running from the general's quarters
through every rank down to the private soldier, and a strange sort of
feeling of joy spread throughout the force; not that many knew either
the importance of the object or the state of the place, but simply
that all were relieved from an uncertainty.
The comment of Lord H---- was very brief. He had long known, indeed,
the fact now first published, but as he told it to Edith while seating
her on her horse to set out, he said: "The place is, luckily, near,
and the business will soon be brought to an end, my love." A something
indefinable in his heart made him add mentally, "one way or another,"
but he gave no utterance to the gloomy doubt, and the little party
rode away.
A calm, quiet evening, with the wind at the south, the sun setting red
in clouds, and a gray vapor stealing over the sky, with every prospect
of a coming storm, and yet everything still and sober in solemn
tranquillity, often puts me in mind of those pauses in the busy course
of life which precede some great and decisive event.
Such an evening was that which Lord H---- and Edith and Mr. Prevost
spent together at the house where so many of these scenes have been
laid, after quitting Fort Edward in the morning. Their journey had
passed quite peaceably. They had encountered no human being but a few
bands of friendly Indians going to join the army, and the ride, as
everyone knows, was, and still is, a very beautiful one. It had
occupied hardly four hours, and thus the principal part of the day had
been spent in calm tranquillity in a scene endeared to all.
Mr. Prevost had retired to his room to write, and Lord H---- and Edith
sat together in front of the house, gazing out toward the setting sun.
They talked of many things, some not at all connected with the
circumstances of the present or the future; they feared to dwell upon
them too long, and they often sought relief in indifferent topics, but
still the coming hour was vaguely present to the mind of each. It was
like sitting near a waterfall, with the quiet, melancholy murmur of
the cataract mingling harmoniously but sadly with every other sound.
"I trust, dear Edith, that we shall see them together," said Lord
H----, speaking of distant lands where they both had birth. "There
is many a lovely thing to be met with in the old world, both in nature
and in art, and though I love these beautiful scenes well, and enjoy
as much as anyone the magnificence of unadorned nature, yet methinks
that is no reason why we should not appreciate to the full all that
is fine and lovely, though of a different character. It is the
narrow-minded man alone, the man of an uncapacious soul, who suffers
one sort of excellence to take possession of his taste or heart.
Beauty and goodness are infinitely varied, and though I may love some
aspects best, yet I trust ever to be capable of deriving pleasure from
each and all."
"But you have seen all these things, George," she answered. "Will it
not weary you to go over them all again with so untutored a companion
as myself?"
He gazed at her for a moment with a look of earnest affection, and
gently pressed the hand he held in his. "I take a new light with me,
Edith," he replied, "a light that will give new loveliness to
everything that is beautiful. I have often thought, my beloved, that
to see our own sensations--I mean happy ones: enjoyment, admiration,
satisfaction--reflected from the mind of one so dear as you are to me,
must be like beholding a loved scene reflected from the bosom of a
calm lake, when every fair feature and bright hue acquires a magic
luster and a brightness greater in the borrowed image than even in the
tangible reality. These are happy dreams, Edith; let us trust to renew
them some few weeks hence, and then, whenever this campaign is over, I
will quit this busy, perilous game of war, if Edith will then be mine,
and realize the visions we love so well. In the meanwhile, dear one,
as everyone who goes into battle encounters certainly some peril, let
us speak a word of the future in case the worst should befall. You
will remember me, Edith, I am sure, if I should not return. I do not
think you will ever love another so well; but remember, I am not so
selfish in my love as to wish you to sacrifice the whole comfort and
happiness of a life to the memory of one departed. Be happy when and
in what way you can. Consult your own feelings solely, and I do
believe that if spirits can look down on earth when parted from this
frail body, your happiness, however it is attained, will add to mine;
for I cannot believe that when we quit this earth we carry the
selfishness of clay along with us."
The tears swam in Edith's eyes, and gemmed the long, black lashes
round them, but they ran not over. "I have but one wish on earth,
George," she answered, "when I think of the chances that you mention.
It is that I may not survive you, even for an hour. If I had not known
it could not be, I would have asked to go with you, in the hope that
if you are to fall, one hour might take us both."
Lord H---- smiled sadly, and shook his head. "That might entail
greater sorrows still," he answered, "and in no sense could it be, my
Edith. No soldier should have his wife with him. While in the field he
should be detached as much as possible from every thought but that of
duty. I doubt, indeed, that he should have any tie to earth whatever,
except those which God imposed upon him at birth. This is one reason
why I shall quit the army. I am less fit to be a soldier than I was,
but I should be utterly unfit if I thought you were in peril. From all
apprehension on that score, indeed, I go free. I felt some uneasiness,
indeed, while I thought that you were to remain alone here, with none
but the servants round you. As matters are arranged at present,
however, you will be quite safe with Colonel Schneider and his wife.
Besides his servants, the host of workmen employed in finishing his
house and all the other works he has going on, will prove a little
bodyguard in itself."
"I should have felt myself perfectly secure here," replied Edith, "for
the familiar aspect of all things round gives a sort of confidence
which I could feel nowhere else. These Schneiders I hardly know, but
if you and my father are better satisfied, I am content to be with
them. What hour are we to set out to-morrow?"
"Between one and two o'clock," replied Lord H----, "will be quite time
enough. The distance is but six miles, and your father and I can very
well escort you thither and reach Fort Edward before night."
"I am glad of that," answered Edith. "To-morrow is the day that poor
Captain Brooks is to be here. I should much like to see him once more,
and I hope that he will arrive before we go. If not, I must tell the
servants to provide for him well, and show him every kindness. Oh,
George, is it not terrible to think of his encountering such a fate?
The very idea of providing his last meals for him when going to a
voluntary death makes my heart sink with horror and regret."
"The only chance is between him and poor Walter," answered Lord
H----; "and we must not forget that this act of Woodchuck's has not
been pressed or even asked by us. He judges, and judges rightly, I
think, that it would be ungenerous to allow Walter to suffer for his
acts; and though I would not urge him to adopt the course he has
chosen, I certainly would say nothing to dissuade him."
"His self-devotion only makes it more terrible," answered Edith, "at
least in my eyes, and yet I cannot help hoping," she continued,
looking up inquiringly in her lover's face, "that something may occur.
Why should I not say that something would be provided to rescue them
both without this awful sacrifice?"
Lord H---- would say nothing to quell a hope which he thought would
give relief, but yet he did not share it; for his faith was less than
Edith's--man's faith always is less than woman's.
Not many minutes more passed before Mr. Prevost rejoined them,
speaking to one of the servants as he entered, in a calm but rapid
tone, and giving various orders and directions for the morrow.
Although not likely to be exposed so much as if entrusted with a
military command, some danger, of course, attended the mere fact of
his accompanying the army, and he had spent the last hour or two in
making many arrangements, in view of probable death.
All the proceedings of the following day were then definitely
arranged. After a hasty dinner he and Lord H----, with the four
mounted men who accompanied them, and Edith's old traveling companion,
Chaudo, were to escort her to the dwelling of Colonel Schneider, the
new house built that spring, even farther in the wild than that of Mr.
Prevost, of which the Indians on the hill had spoken. There, leaving
her at once, the two gentlemen were to return to the camp, which they
calculated upon reaching before nightfall.
The night passed quietly; day followed, and while Edith was dressing
she saw from her window the expected figure of Woodchuck walking
toward the door, with a firmer tread and a more resolute and easy
bearing than he displayed when he had last appeared. On descending,
she found him talking with her father and Lord H----, with perfect
calmness and ease. His look was firm and self-possessed, his air was
bold, though tranquil, and he seemed to have gained health since she
saw him last. Edith was almost tempted to believe that some happy
change of circumstances had taken place, but his first words dispelled
her illusion.
"No, I thank you, Mr. Prevost," he said, "I must go on. I'll just take
some breakfast with you, and then begin my march. I have calculated
well my time, and should like to have a day or two to go and come
upon. It does not do to leave things to the last. I guess I shall
leave Johnson Castle to-night. Then, mayhap, I shall get a lift up the
river in a canoe. But, at all events, even if I am obliged to foot it
all the way, I shall be in time."
Mr. Prevost looked down, and fell into thought, while Woodchuck
advanced to Edith, shook hands with her, and spoke upon indifferent
subjects. She now remarked that he was dressed in different guise from
that which he had assumed during the winter. A light brown hunting
shirt, loose in the body and the sleeves, seemed to be his principal
garment; and in the belt which bound it round him was stuck the
tomahawk and scalping knife of an Indian. His rifle stood in one
corner of the room. On his head he wore a fur cap, as usual, and a
pouch and powder horn, with moccasins on his feet, completed his
equipment.
"Well, general," he said, turning to Lord H----, "I saw some of your
people as I came up the river. There had been a fuss about batteaux,
but I showed them how they could find some, for a set of knaves, more
French than English at their hearts, had drawn a crowd of them up the
creek. So Abercrombie and the rest are all up at Fort Edward by this
time."
Lord H---- looked toward Mr. Prevost, but he was still in thought, and
only roused himself to lead the way into the hall to breakfast.
Woodchuck ate heartily; but to touch a single mouthful was a hard
task for the other three. While still at the table, however, the
sound of horses' feet galloping up to the door was heard, and Lord
H----, starting up, looked out of the window. There were a young
officer and a trooper of dragoons at the door; and the moment the
former saw Lord H---- he handed him in a letter by the window,
dismounting and entering the moment after, himself. By this time the
despatch had been read by the young nobleman and Mr. Prevost, and the
latter exclaimed: "This is most unfortunate! An immediate recall,
Edith! We must not delay a moment, for the march commences to-morrow
at daybreak! Get ready as fast as possible, my love. We will see you
safely to Colonel Schneider's, and then gallop back to the fort."
"Excuse me for observing," said the young officer, "that the order is
peremptory. Of course, his lordship will judge for himself, but I only
follow General Abercrombie's commands in saying that he wishes not a
moment's delay."
"But my daughter, sir, my daughter!" said Mr. Prevost.
The young gentleman bowed stiffly, but made no answer, and the
countenance of Lord H---- was very grave.
"Surely," said Mr. Prevost, "'twould be no great disobedience of
orders to see my daughter safely to the house of my friend, Colonel
Schneider, a distance of not more than six miles?"
"Which would take nearly two hours to go and come," said the young
officer, drily, "at least over roads such as these. But you and his
lordship are the best judges. I do not presume to dictate, and only
convey to you the commander-in-chief's orders."
"Leave her to my care, Prevost," said Woodchuck, starting up. "I will
see her safe. It's all in my way. Some of the servants can go with us,
and there is no danger."
"I am in no fear, indeed, my dear father," said Edith. "Do not risk a
censure. I shall be quite safe with our friend here."
"I believe, indeed, you will," said Lord H----; "otherwise I should be
tempted to disobey, myself. But the terms of this despatch are so
pressing that unless there were immediate and positive peril I think
we are bound to return to camp at once."
He spoke aloud, and very gravely; but then, advancing to Edith's side,
he added a few words in a lower tone. Mr. Prevost walked up and joined
in their conversation, a sufficient indication, it might have seemed,
that they wished for a few moments' privacy. Woodchuck understood, and
advanced quietly to the door, for natural delicacy of feeling is but
the reality of that of which politeness is the shadow. But the young
officer, who was of that coarse, common stuff of which martinets are
ultimately made, still kept his ground, till Lord H----, somewhat
provoked, turned round and said: "Captain Lumley, you will have the
goodness to return to headquarters, and inform the commander-in-chief
that his orders shall be peremptorily obeyed."
The young man paused a moment, with a look of surprise and discontent,
and a moment or two after, when he passed Woodchuck at the door of the
house, he was muttering: "Without asking me to take any refreshment."
His murmurs were, perhaps, natural; for those who concede least to the
feelings of others invariably exact most for their own.
It is true that Lord H----, occupied with thoughts that engrossed him
altogether, dismissed the aide-de-camp without remembrance of his
needs, as well as without any feeling of resentment, and omitted a
courtesy which no resentment, assuredly, could have curtailed. But the
young man, swelling with indignation and offended dignity, mounted
sullenly, and proceeded but slowly on his way. He had not gone
one-half the distance, however, between Mr. Prevost's house and Fort
Edward, when Lord H---- and the commissary passed him at great speed;
and he did not reach headquarters till half an hour after they had
announced their own return.