CHAPTER XII.

There are hours in the life of man when no actual grief oppresses him--when there is no imminent peril near--when no strong passion wrings his heart; and yet those hours are amongst the most dark and painful of his whole existence. They come on many occasions, and under various circumstances--often when some silent voice from within warns him of the instability of all human joy, and a gray shadow takes the place of the sunshine of life--often when the prophetic soul, seeing in the distant horizon a cloud no bigger than a man's hand, foretells the hurricane and the tempest that is to sweep away his brightest hopes for ever.

Such hours were those of Mr. Prevost during a great part of the night which succeeded his parting with Lord H----. He slept but little for several hours, and, though he knew not why, a gloomy, oppressive fancy seized upon him, that his household would be the one to suffer from the event which had lately passed.

The want of sleep in the earlier part of the night protracted the slumbers of the morning. He was usually the first person up in the house, and enjoyed many an hour of study or of thought before even the negroes were stirring. But this morning he was aroused by a distant knocking at the huts where the outdoor servants slept, and then by a repetition of the same sound at the door of the house itself.

Rising hastily, he got down in time to see the door opened by old Agrippa, and found a man on horseback bearing a large official-looking letter, addressed to Major-General Lord H----.

It proved to be a despatch from Sir William Johnson, requesting both Lord H---- and Mr. Prevost to attend a meeting of some of the chiefs of the Five Nations, which was to be held at Johnson Castle on the Mohawk in the course of the following day. Though the distance was not very great, the difficulty of travelling through that part of the country made it necessary to set out at once, in order to reach the place of rendezvous before night.

"I will mount my horse as soon as it can be got ready," said Lord H----, when he had read the letter and shown it to Mr. Prevost. "I suppose, in existing circumstances, you will not think it advisable to accompany me?"

"Most certainly I will go with you, my lord," replied his host. "As I said last night, the danger, though very certain, is not immediate. Weeks, months, may pass before these Indians feel assured that they cannot obtain possession of the actual slayer of their red brother; and, as many of the Oneidas will probably be present at this 'talk,' as they call it, I may, perhaps (though it is very doubtful), gain some insight into their thoughts and intentions. I will take my daughter with me, however, for I should not like to leave her here altogether alone. Her preparations may delay us for half-an-hour; but we shall have ample time, and the horse of the messenger, who will act as our guide, must have some little time to take rest and feed."

Edith was all gaiety and satisfaction at the thought of the expedition before her. She knew many of the Indians well; was acquainted with their habits and manners, and was a great favourite with several of the chiefs; but she had never been present at any of their great meetings, and the event before her had all the recommendation of novelty. The keen observer before whom she stood drew from her active eagerness an inference, partially true, though carried, perhaps, a little too far, that she was not in reality well satisfied with her residence in the wilderness--that it was oppressive to her, and that, though she might studiously conceal her distaste for such solitude, she was very glad to seize an opportunity of escaping from it to busier scenes.

However that might be, she was ready the first. A very brief time was spent at breakfast, and then the whole party set out on horseback, followed by a negro leading a packhorse, and preceded by the messenger of Sir William Johnson.

It was customary in those days in all lands for every gentleman to go armed with the sword at least; and in those parts of America which bordered upon the Indian territory, few people thought of going forth for any distance without a rifle as a protection, not alone against any hostile natives, but against wild beasts, which were then somewhat numerous. Mr. Prevost, the messenger, and the negro, were all thus armed; but Lord H----, who had hitherto worn nothing but the common riding-suit in which he had first presented himself, except in his unfortunate expedition with Captain Brooks, had now donned the splendid uniform of a major-general in the British service, and was merely armed with his sword and pistols in the holsters of his saddle.

Thus equipped, and mounted on a horse full of life and spirit from a four days' rest, he was certainly as gallant-looking a cavalier as ever presented himself to lady's eyes. But, to say sooth, his military station and his military dress were no great recommendation to Edith; for it is sad to say, but too true, that officers in the English army in those days had made themselves anything but popular or well esteemed in the American provinces. A more simple and more virtuous state of society certainly existed in the northern portion of the New World than in any part of the Old; and, coming from a luxurious and vicious scene to a completely different state of things, the English officer, despising the simpler habits of the people, displayed no slight portion of insolence and presumption, and carried to excess the evil habits which should have been disgraceful in any country. A great change has since come over his manners and character in almost every respect; but at that period he was notorious in the colonies for blasphemy, drunkenness, and depraved morals.

Thus, to be a military man was, as I have said, no great recommendation in the eyes of any lady who possessed self-respect, but in the case of Lord H---- it served to heighten the good qualities which were apparent in him, by showing him in a favourable contrast to the great body of his comrades. He swore not; in eating and drinking he carried moderation to abstemiousness; and in manners, though firm, easy, and self-possessed, there was not the slightest touch of overbearingness or presumption. Occasionally his tone was grave, almost to sternness; but at other times it was mild, and even tender; and there was something peculiarly gentle as well as bright in his smile and in his eyes.

The journey passed without incident. Deep woods succeeded each other for many miles, but not without interruption. Every now and then a bright stream would come dancing along in its autumnal freshness, and then the road would circle the edge of a small lake, sweet, and calm, and beautiful, reflecting the blue sky and the over-hanging branches of the pine and hemlock. At places where the maple grew, the forest would be all in a glow, as if with the reflection of some vast unseen fire; and then again, where the road passed through a deep valley, all would be dark, and sombre, and gloomy.

No Indian villages were passed, and not a human being was seen for seventeen or eighteen miles; though here and there a small log-hut, apparently deserted, testified to the efforts of a new race to wrest their hunting-grounds from an earlier race--efforts too soon, too sadly, too cruelly, to be consummated.

The softer light of early morning died away, and then succeeded a warmer period when the heat became very oppressive; for in the midst of those deep forests, with no wind stirring, the change from summer to winter is not felt so rapidly as in more open lands.

About an hour after noon Mr. Prevost proposed to stop, rest the horses, and take some refreshment; and a spot was selected where some fine oaks spread their large limbs over a beautifully clear little lake or pond, the view across which presented peeps of a distant country, some blue hills, at no very great elevation, appearing above the tops of the trees. It was a calm and quiet spot; and, while resting there for an hour, the conversation, as is generally the case, was tinged by the influence of the scene.

Mr. Prevost himself, though past the age when impressions of any kind are most readily received, had preserved much of the fresh and plastic character of youth, and gave himself up to any train of thought that might be suggested by circumstances. A casual word led his mind away from those drier topics on which he was often pleased to dwell, to friendship and to love; and he and Lord H---- discussed for some time a number of subjects which rarely arise between an elderly man and one in early middle age. Of the two, strange to say, Mr. Prevost, in dealing with such topics, seemed the most enthusiastic and fanciful. He would play with them, he would embellish them, he would illustrate them, as if he had been a young lover, with his imagination freshly kindled by the torch of the blind god. But in the little said by Lord H---- there was a depth, and a strength, and an earnestness, which more than made up for the lack of figurative adornment.

Edith said little--nothing, in truth, that bore upon the subject; but perhaps she did not think--perhaps she did not feel--the less. It must be a strange thing to a young girl's ears, I have often thought, when first in her presence are discussed, by the cool, fearless tongues of men, those deep sympathies, those warm affections, those tender and absorbing passions--like the famous Amreeta cup, good or evil, life or death, according to the spirit in which they are received--which form for her the keynote of the whole harmonies of her nature, the foundation of life's happiness or woe, the talisman of her whole destiny. Must she not shrink and thrill, as would the idolater at seeing profane and careless hands sport with the image of his god?

Needless, perhaps vain, were it to try and look into that young girl's heart. Suffice it, she was silent, or very nearly so--suffice it, that she thought and felt in her silence. Was it that the portals of a new world were opened to her, full of beauty and of interest, and that she stood on the threshold, gazing in voiceless awe?

At the end of an hour, the party again mounted, and pursued their way, still through forests and valleys, across streams, and by the side of lakes, till at length, just as the evening sun was reaching the horizon, a visible change took place in the aspect of the country; spots were seen which had been cultivated, where harvests had grown and been reaped; and then a house gleamed here and there through the woodland, and blue wreaths of smoke might be seen rising up. Tracks of cart-wheels channelled the forest path; a cart or waggon was drawn up near the road side; high piles of firewood showed preparation against the bitter winter; and everything indicated that the travellers were approaching some new but prosperous settlement.

Soon all traces of the primeval woods, except those which the little party left behind them, disappeared, and a broad tract of well-cultivated country spread out before them, with a fine river bounding it at the distance of more than a mile. The road, too, was comparatively good and broad, and half-way between the forest and the river, that road divided into two, one branch going straight on, and another leading up the course of the stream.

"Is Sir William at the Hall, or at his castle?" asked Mr. Prevost, raising his voice to reach the ears of his guide, who kept a little in front.

"He told me, sir, to take you to the Hall if you should come on, sir," replied the messenger. "There is a great number of Indians up at the castle already, and he thought you might, perhaps, not like to be with them altogether."

"Probably not," returned Mr. Prevost, drily; and they rode on upon the direct road, till, passing two or three smaller houses, they came in sight of a very large and handsome edifice, built of wood, indeed, but somewhat in the style of a European house of the eighteenth century.

As they approached the gates, Sir William Johnson himself, now in full costume of an officer of the British army, came down the steps to meet and welcome them; and little less ceremonious politeness did he display, in the midst of the wild woods of America, than if he had been, at the moment, in the halls of St. James's. With stately grace, he lifted Edith from her horse, greeted Lord H---- with a deferential bow, shook Mr. Prevost by the hand, and then led them himself to rooms which seemed to have been prepared for them.

"Where is my friend Walter?" he asked, as he was about to leave Mr. Prevost to some short repose; "what has induced him to deny his old acquaintance the pleasure of his society? Ha, Mr. Prevost, does he think to find metal more attractive at your lonely dwelling? Perhaps he may be mistaken; for, let me tell you, the beautiful Otaitsa is here--here, in this very house; for our good friend Gore has so completely Anglified her, that, what between her Christianity, her beauty, and her delicacy, I believe she is afraid to trust herself with four or five hundred red warriors at the castle."

He spoke in a gay and jesting tone; and every one knows the blessed facility which parents have of shutting their eyes to the love affairs of their children. Mr. Prevost did not, in the least, perceive anything in the worthy general's speech, but a good-humored joke at the boyish fondness of his son for a pretty Indian girl; and he hastened to excuse Walter's absence by telling Sir William that he had been sent to Albany on business by Lord H----. He then inquired, somewhat anxiously, "Is our friend the Black Eagle here, with his daughter?"

"He is here on the ground," replied Sir William, "but not in the house. His Indian habits are of too old standing to be rooted out like Otaitsa's, and he prefers a bear-skin and his own blue blanket to the best bed and quilt in the house. I offered him such accommodation as it afforded; but he declined with the dignity of a prince refusing the hospitality of a cottage."

"Does he seem in a good humour to-day?" asked Mr. Prevost, hesitating whether he should tell Sir William, at a moment when they were likely to be soon interrupted, the event which had caused so much apprehension in his own mind; "you know he is somewhat variable in his mood."

"I never remarked it," replied the other. "I think he is the most civilized savage I ever saw; far more than King Hendrick, though the one, since his father's death, wears a blue coat, and the other does not. He did seem a little grave, indeed; but the shadows of Indian mirth and gravity are so faint, it is difficult to distinguish them."

While these few words were passing, Mr. Prevost had decided upon his course, and he merely replied,--

"Well, Sir William, pray let Otaitsa know that Edith is here. They will soon be in each other's arms, for the two girls love like sisters."

A few words sprang to Sir William Johnson's lips, which, had they been uttered, might, perhaps, have opened Mr. Prevost's eyes, at least, to the suspicions of his friend. He was on the eve of answering, "And, some day, they may be sisters." But he checked himself, and nothing but the smile which should have accompanied the words made any reply.

When left alone, the thoughts of Mr. Prevost reverted at once to more pressing considerations.

"The old chief knows this event," he said to himself; "he has heard of it--heard the whole, probably. It is wonderful how rapidly intelligence is circulated amongst this people from mouth to mouth!"

He was well nigh led into speculations regarding the strange celerity with which news can be carried orally, and was beginning to calculate how much distance would be saved in a given space, by one man shouting out the tidings to another afar off, when he forced back his mind into the track it had left, and came to the conclusion, from a knowledge of the character of the parties, and from all he had heard, that certainly the Black Eagle was cognizant of the death of one of his tribe by the hand of Captain Brooks, and that probably--though not certainly--he might have communicated the facts, though not his views and purposes, to his daughter, whose keen eyes were likely to discover much of that which he intended to conceal.