The Wilderness Fugitives Part 2

"Certainly; and Colonel Denison was the man who put it into his head. I can see it all now, though I didn't suspect it at the time."

"Why don't you shoot him?"

"I was mad enough to do that; and I believe that if I had met him last night, after the Mohawk escaped so narrowly being cut through by my sword, I would have done it. But I have thought the matter over to-day, and made up my mind that it won't pay. There have already been some things about this Wyoming business that will make trouble. The Indians ought to have killed every rebel that wasn't shot down in battle; but they let so many get away that they will tell all sorts of stories about us, and when they get to England, they may interfere with some little plans of my own."[A]

"Well, if you catch the bird that flew away, you can afford to forgive the well-intended schemes; for when she is once in your hands, what care you for others? You tell me, colonel, that the Mohawk did not reach Wilkesbarre with her to-day?"

"No. I had word from there at sunset, and they had not been seen anywhere in the neighborhood; and, as the Mohawk was observed on this side of the stream near noon to-day, he must still be here."

"It has been dark quite awhile, and he may have slipped across since the sun went down."

"He may, it is true, but it is hardly likely, for the redskins, as a rule, don't like to do their work until the latter part of the night.

People are too apt to be wide awake in the earlier portion of the evening; and I am quite sure Red Jack will wait till beyond midnight before he makes a move in the business."

"The night promises to be dark, so that when he undertakes to paddle to the other sh.o.r.e, he will be pretty apt to do it."

"It isn't likely we could hinder him, if he was on the watch, as I suppose he will be," growled Butler, reluctant to concede to the redskin the skill and prowess that he knew properly belonged to him. "But I have figured on the supposition that he will get safely across with the girl, so it won't make much difference whether he does set foot on the other sh.o.r.e or not. If he _does_ get there, though, he will find there is more than one lion in the path between him and Wilkesbarre. I have some of the best runners and scouts of the Iroquois on the hunt for the couple, and it is scarcely possible that they can fail. I go across myself, so as to be ready to take charge of matters the minute a competent guiding hand is needed."

"And you want me to go with you?"

"You may as well, for matters are dull behind us, and are likely to stay so for the few days that we shall yet remain. Come along with us, Captain Bagley, and you will be likely to see some sport before you get back."

"That reminds me," said the officer, whose name was just spoken, "that I heard somewhere from some one that this pretty rebel has an ardent admirer and lover in the person of a young soldier of Denison's forces, and that he and a brother of the girl fought like the very deuce in the battle--"

"And was killed?" struck in the Tory, with an eagerness that showed how intense was his hate for the one who dared to love with a pure and holy affection her whom he had selected as the object of his sinful admiration.

"I am sorry to say I cannot give you that information," said the captain, with a half-laugh at the colonel's eagerness. "Both young men, I have been told, managed to get through the battle without a scratch, and are probably somewhere in the valley at this moment--perhaps trying to help the young lady to get to Wilkesbarre."

Colonel Butler broke in with an imprecation, as he recalled the accounts he had received of the affair at the settler's house that same day, and which left no doubt in his mind that the two young rebels referred to were acting in concert with the Mohawk scout, Lena-Wingo.

[Footnote A: After the Revolution, Colonel Butler tried hard to obtain the honor of knighthood from the King of Great Britain, but failed.]

CHAPTER IV.

THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE.

Rosa and Ned, without wish or intention on their part, were obtaining some very interesting information from the Tory leader; and, as the way was not clear as to a safe method of extricating themselves from the position of eavesdroppers, they could do nothing more than hold their peace and allow the entertainment to continue.

The Tory was enraged by the discovery that Rosa was the beloved of another, who was probably doing all he could at that moment to a.s.sist in placing her beyond his reach, and to raise himself in her affection by such a display of devotion.

"When are you going to cross over?" inquired his companion.

"Right away--we have waited too long already. The evening is well along, and we're losing time."

The sounds which succeeded showed that the party were moving nearer the river sh.o.r.e, having been standing a few feet off while holding the conversation. Back in the darkness of the wood, Rosa and Ned were invisible, while they were able to catch the outlines of the moving figures when thrown against the dim sky beyond. It was plain that the party meant to use the canoe in which the girl had spent a portion of the afternoon, and which, it was intended, should serve as a vehicle to carry the whites to the other side.

The redmen were heard placing the boat in position, and the splash of the paddle was noticed as all took their places, and the oarsman a.s.sumed his duty of guiding the craft, burdened to its utmost capacity, across the Susquehanna. Colonel Butler, who had been so talkative a few minutes before, and also accommodating enough to reveal his purposes to those most concerned, seemed to have gone to the other extreme, for nothing more was heard from him. Captain Bagley took upon himself the task of directing the movements of the others, whenever they needed direction.

The canoe, with its occupants, left the sh.o.r.e and was impelled into the Susquehanna, heading for the other bank, invisible in the gloom of the night. Before the craft had vanished, however, Ned caught sight of a couple of figures on the bank immediately in front of where he was standing with Rosa.

"'Sh!" she whispered, detecting the fact at the same instant; "they have left a couple behind."

At this instant one of the forms turned and advanced toward them, the distance being so short that he had taken but a few steps when he arrived.

"Did you see them?" he asked, when he was at their side.

"See them? Of course we did," replied Rosa, recognizing her brother, "and we heard them, too. They've been standing and talking together right here, close enough for us to hear every word they said."

"Well, what did they say?"

"It would be hard to tell what they didn't say," replied Rosa, with something of her old spirit of mischief. "Colonel Butler is very sweet on some young rebel, which I am afraid is about my age, and looks very much like me. He has gone across the river to catch me before I can reach Wilkesbarre, but I don't see why he need be in a hurry, for I don't think we'll see that place within a couple of weeks, unless Lena-Wingo gets in more of a hurry than he is now."

This "satirical" remark was intended for the ears of the Mohawk, who had approached during the last few seconds, and who did not lose a syllable; but it would have taken more bitter words than ever fell from those sweet lips to stir any resentful feelings in his dusky breast.

"Talk much," was the only response he made, thereby uttering a truth which not even the young lady herself would deny.

"What else did he say?" asked Jo, referring to Colonel Butler.

"Well, the substance of it all was that he had sent a lot of Iroquois across the river to cut us off before we can reach Wilkesbarre, and he has no doubt they will succeed. He goes over himself, so as to be on hand, I believe, to take charge of me--that is, when _they catch me_."

"Is that all?"

"Do you think of anything more?" asked Rosa, addressing Ned.

"You have given all that was said--that is, all that is worth telling,"

answered the young man, into whose brain were burned some utterances which had not been referred to by his fair companion.

"If there is anything else," persisted Jo, "why, let's have it; for though it may seem trifling to you, it may be of importance when weighed by the Mohawk. Out with all you remember!"

"I have nothing more to tell," replied Ned, feeling the situation becoming embarra.s.sing.

"I forgot something else," added the girl, in a light manner, that sent the shivers down the back of young Minturn, for his instinct told him what was coming. "You can't ask me to tell you all the bad words Colonel Butler used."

"Not unless you would like to go over them, but let me know what it was that _caused_ him to speak in that style?"

"Oh! but he had good cause for it all, for that wicked Captain Bagley told him there was a young gentleman somewhere that thought all the world of me, and of whom I thought all the world, and the idea that I liked anybody else besides him was what made him so angry. I believe you have _all_ now."

"Yes, I believe I have," replied Jo, with a low laugh. "Jack and I were standing almost as close to them as were you and Ned, and we heard their conversation."

If the pretty sister had possessed a parasol, she would have made her brother's head feel the weight thereof. All this was pure jest that seemed to intrude itself by a law of physiology into the hearts oppressed so long by grief, dread and anxiety. But there was one heart upon which the airy words fell with a weight of which the speakers never dreamed. To Ned Clinton there was something cruel in this reference to his affection for Rosa. He considered it a sacred secret--perhaps dimly suspected now by Rosa herself--too sacred, indeed, to be spoken of in jest by others.

He knew that his friends meant no unkindness, but it touched him scarcely the less for all that. He and Rosa had pa.s.sed a few deep, earnest words, bearing upon that dream of the future which he cherished so fondly, and not the words merely, but the tones, the manner and the occasion gave them a significance which was of the profoundest import to him; and now to hear the maiden refer to them as she did pained him. Was it, then, all a jest to her? Did she regard the picture he had faintly limned as one of those unsubstantial dreams which the young and ambitious are so fond of drawing, and which can never be realized? Did she look upon him merely as a friend--a dear one, perhaps, whom she had known and liked from their early childhood, because they had been schoolmates, and he and her brother were friends?

In short, was it not evidence that she merely _liked_, but felt nothing at all of _love_--that great over-mastering emotion that pervaded and swayed his whole nature?