Ronayne's pale cheek became suddenly scarlet. He perceived from
the tone and look that accompanied the words that suspicion of some
kind, whence derived he knew not, had entered into the mind of Mrs.
Headley, and that she saw in the regard of the young Indian for
his wife, evidence of a prepossession which might prove dangerous
to his peace. But this, to a mind generous and impetuous as that
of the highly-gifted officer, brought no alarm. Conscious of the
entire possession of the heart and confidence of his wife, it was
a source of speculative pride, rather than of concern to him,
that the warm-hearted and inartificial Indian, at once brave,
boy-like, and handsome, should, with a cheek glowing, and an eye
beaming with overweening softness, feel and betray all the power
of her beauty when exposed to the influence of its presence. It
was a compliment to himself--to his own taste and judgment, and,
had this been possible, would have increased his love for her on
whom nature, hand in hand with the graces, had lavished such
adornments of disposition and person as to compel a homage which
rarely came to woman from such a quarter. The love of Wau-nan-gee
had been known to both, but it had always been regarded as the
innocent and enthusiastic preference of the boy who had scarcely
yet learned to comprehend the new and strange emotion struggling
for development at his heart. It had often been the topic of their
conversation; and many a smile, half crimsoning into a blush, had
Ronayne called up to the brow of his young wife, while playfully
adverting to the equal right to invest her with the marriage ring,
which he had so eagerly manifested on the evening of their union.
And, if he had shown a humor on that occasion which displeased or
hurt the Indian it was not from any unworthy jealousy of the act
he had sought to perform, but because he was ashamed of his own
awkwardness, exhibited on such an occasion and in presence of his
bride. Since that night Wau-nan-gee had disappeared, and both by
the husband and wife had his absence been deeply regretted, for
they both loved the youth, not only for the services he had rendered,
but the interest his gentleness of deportment and retiring modesty
had inspired.
If, therefore, he changed color at the remark of Mrs. Headley, it
was not because a guilty passion was hinted at as influencing the
boy, or because, even if it did, that he much heeded it, but because
he thought it was meant to suggest that the danger would come from
the tenderness of her who had inspired it. For the moment he felt
mortified at the possibility of such an idea being entertained,
and, had Mrs. Headley made the remark she did, except In his own
ear, Ronayne would have expressed himself accordingly.
"He cannot love her too well," was his reply; "oh, no, that is my
chief hope. Think you that I should be calm as I am, did I not,
now that I know he is returned, feel assured that his strong yet
pure attachment for her will cause him to head a strong band for
her rescue? I am better now--I am determined to be better; for at
the first dawn I will go forth and seek Wau-nan-gee. We shall not
be five hours away; and, long before the council assembles, we
shall again, I am confident, be re-united. Ah, what a long night
until then! would that it were dawn!"
"That were of no use," returned Mrs. Headley, gravely and aloud.
"I know that the strictest orders were issued immediately after
your return, to allow neither officer nor man to leave the fort,
unless passed by Headley himself."
"Or I shall never return, I suppose," muttered the Virginian
bitterly; "well, we shall see;" and he ground his teeth together
fiercely.
"Ronayne," said Mrs. Headley, "spare your bitterness. You will know
to-morrow what Headley meant by his remark; yet promise me one
thing before I leave you, that before you seek to leave the fort,
you will see me in the morning, in my apartments. If, then, I fail
to satisfy you of the reasons which exist against your entertaining
any hopes of success in the enterprise you meditate, I think I may
venture to say that I shall obtain of not to oppose you. But,
stay! on consideration, it will be better that what I have to urge
should be said at once. This is no time or occasion for mere forms
or ceremonies. There is too much at stake. I shall leave you now,
and return, alone, in little more than an hour. You will dismiss
Collins for the night, desiring him to close the door--not fasten
it, so that I may make no noise--find no difficulty in entering.
Better that you give vent to your feelings here, in the privacy of
your own room, than reveal by your excitement to others that which
should be known only to ourselves."
"Good heaven! what can all this mean? what can it portend?" exclaimed
the startled officer.
"Prepare yourself for no pleasant communication, Ronayne," continued
Mrs. Headley, sadly; "I must wound, yet I trust but to heal; one
point I would have you question Von Voltenberg on before I go--the
manner in which Maria fell into the hands of the Indians."
During this short and low conversation, Mrs. Elmsley and Von
Voltenberg had been talking aside on the same subject, the former
continuing to weep quietly but bitterly for the loss of her friend.
Ronayne now questioned the surgeon in regard to the cause of the
suddenness of their departure from the point where he had dismounted
to procure water.
Von Voltenberg replied that he scarcely knew himself, but his own
impression was that Mrs. Ronayne had started off her horse the
moment the shots were fired--he supposed in the very exaggerated
spirit of wantonness which had marked her actions ever since leaving
the fort. He had mechanically followed in courtesy, and the result
was as has been seen--her sudden captivity by the war party, who
had hurried her off, almost unresistingly, he knew not whither,
while he himself was taken in the direction in which Ronayne had
seen him.
"Did she scream--did she express alarm when taken?" asked Mrs.
Headley.
"No; I cannot say that she did," returned the Doctor, somewhat
surprised, and not comprehending the motive for the question; "but
you know Mrs. Ronayne is a woman of great nerve and presence of
mind. Moreover, as the thing was done in a moment, she must have
been too greatly astonished to understand her danger, for she came
abruptly on the Indians on turning the sharp angle of the road
leading up to the house."
Mrs. Headley's eyes met those of Ronayne with grave meaning. He
seemed to understand her, and when, with Mrs. Elmsley, she had
departed, he threw himself back upon his pillow, and, closing his
eyes, mused deeply. To the inquiry of Von Voltenberg, he replied
that, feeling disposed to rest a little, he would not trouble him
to sit up longer, but begged him to retire and to send Collins to
his barrack-room, leaving his door on the latch, in case he should
be summoned by the commanding officer for any purpose before morning.
As Mrs. Headley separated for the night from Mrs. Elmsley, and
approached her own door, a man in uniform came up, touched his cap
respectfully, and presented a packet.
"This parcel, Mrs. Headley, I received from Mrs. Ronayne on leaving
the fort this afternoon, with the direction that I should hand it
to you if she did not return by midnight. Alas! ma'am, we have
every reason to fear the dear lady will never return; twelve
o'clock has just struck, and I am come to fulfil my trust."
"Thank you, Serjeant Nixon. As you say, I fear there is little hope
of Mrs. Ronayne returning; but this package may possibly throw some
light on the cause of her absence."
"Oh! I hope so; yet how Should it, ma'am? she could not have known
what was going to happen when she went out."
"No--true, Nixon, you are right. I suppose it contains something
that she has borrowed, or that I have asked her for. Ah! I recollect
now--it is some embroidery she worked for me. Good night, serjeant;
or do you wish to see Captain Headley?"
"No, ma'am, I only came to deliver the package which Mrs. Ronayne
seemed so anxious you should get to-night."
"There was no such very great hurry about it," returned Mrs. Headley,
carelessly, yet not without agitation; "I would to heaven she had
been here to give it to me herself!"
"Amen!" solemnly returned the serjeant; "I would willingly lose my
left arm, could I see her sweet face in Fort Dearborn again."
"Good night, Nixon," said Mrs. Headley, quickly and much affected;
"you are a noble fellow!" and she took and warmly pressed his hand.
"Oh! Mrs. Headley, that is the way Mrs. Ronayne pressed my hand
after she had placed the packet in it, and obtained my assurance
that her directions should be punctually obeyed. I shall ever feel
that pressure--see the look of kindness that accompanied it. I
prayed inwardly to God, as I stood gazing on her while she rode
gracefully away, to shower all His choicest blessings on her."
"Good Nixon, no more;" and Mrs. Headley was in the next minute at
the side of her husband, who, with deep care on his brow, sat at
a table buried in papers, and with the despatch of General Hull in
his hand.
"Well, my dear, have you seen him--and how does he bear his
affliction?"
"Oh! Headley, I pity him from my inmost soul--pity him for what he
now suffers; and, oh! how much more for the greater agony he has
yet to endure!"
"You have not yet, then, told him?"
"No! Mrs. Elmsley and Von Voltenberg were there; and even the former
must not know the secret. Let all mourn her as one lost to us for,
ever, but not through her own fault. Let them continue to believe
that she has been violently torn from us, not that she has proved
unfaithful to her husband, ungrateful to her friends."
"Think you not, Ellen, that it would be better to continue Ronayne
in the same belief? As you have not opened the subject to him, it
is not too late to alter your first intention."
"Dear Headley, Ronayne must know all. In no other way can the wound
at his heart be healed. I comprehend his noble, generous character
well. Such is his love for Maria, that he will never recover the
shock of her loss while he believes her to have been unwillingly
torn from him. He will pine until he sickens and dies, and, indeed,
unless the whole truth be told to him, he will find some means of
leaving the fort in search of her; indeed he has said he will--that
nothing shall prevent him; and, alas, if he does, it will be
with but little disposition to return without her. Now, I know that
if his love be great, his pride and proper self-esteem are not less
so, and feel assured that however acute his first agony, he, will
dry up the fountain of his grief, from the moment that he learns
that her love for himself has been transferred to another; that,
carried away by a strange and seductive fascination, she has
abandoned him for an uneducated boy. His pride, even if it do not
make him forget her, will so balance with his now unrequited
affection, as to enable him to bear himself up, until time shall
have robbed the wound of all its bitterness, and nothing remain
but the scar. You will, moreover, have an efficient officer preserved
to you, and one whose services may be much required in the present
crisis--whose voice in the council will not be without its weight,
and whose arm and example will help to instil confidence in the
men, with all of whom he is a marked favorite."
"You are right, Ellen, if all that you suppose be true; better that
the wound should be enlarged to insure its speedier cure, than that
the laceration, though less acute, should be continued. But is it
not necessary to be well assured of this? Should you not have
stronger ground than what you witnessed yesterday to justify the
belief that this excursion was planned to insure the result that
has followed?"
"Depend upon it, Headley, I will not do so, for you know I am not
disposed to 'aught extenuate or aught set down in malice,' but I
have already prepared Ronayne, indirectly, to expect some singular
relation in which Maria is concerned. I wanted him to form some
idea of the nature of the revelation I had to make, in order that
the shock might not be so great, when I fully entered upon the
subject, I had at first intended that he should come to me in the
morning, but, on reflection, I thought it better that everything
should be told to him to-night where he is, and therefore stated,
on leaving, that I would return within an hour. Was I right, my
love?" and she took and pressed his hand to her lips.
"Always right, dear Ellen--always considerate and prudent. Yes,
poor fellow, it were cruel to let him slumber in hope, however
faint, only to wake to confirmed despair in the morning. Besides
there may be, most probably will be, a wild outbreak of his passionate
grief, and that, manifested here where the servants cannot fail to
hear him, may induce suspicions of the true cause that must never
be entertained. No, whatever we know, however we may deplore the
weakness--the infatuation of that once noble girl, within our own
hearts must remain her unfortunate secret."
"Generously, nobly said, my husband. Were I not certain that it
would destroy, wither up the very soul of Ronayne to keep him in
uncertainty and ignorance, I would not rend the veil from before
his eyes; but it must be so, even for his own future peace. Besides
me, therefore, for he will not know that I have entrusted you with
the fact, none in the garrison will be aware of the truth, and
Ronayne will at least not have to feel the mortification--the
bitterness arising from the conviction that his wife is mourned by
his comrades, with aught of diminution of that respect they had
ever borne to her."
"How annoying is this occurrence at this particular moment," observed
Captain Headley, musingly pressing his hand to his brow, "and how
unfortunate. Had Winnebeg brought General Hull's despatch one day
sooner, all this would not have happened, for they never could have
obtained permission to leave the fort, much less to visit so
dangerous a vicinity as Hardscrabble. Our march from this would
have changed the whole current of events."
"Even so," returned Mrs. Headley; "but here is a packet, left with
Serjeant Nixon, which he has just handed to me, and which may throw
some light on the subject. I will first glance over it myself."
She broke the seal--hurriedly read it--and then passed it to her
husband, whose utter dismay, as he exchanged looks of deep and
painful intelligence with her, after perusing the letter, was
scarcely inferior to her own.
"This is evidence indeed!" he murmured. "Who could have expected it?"