The interrogatory was put, immediately after the commanding officer had retired, doubtingly, in a low tone, and apart from the rest of the men.

"I saw them carry him off myself, sir," again deliberately said the corporal. "The whole of the party saw it too."

"Enough, enough," pursued the lieutenant, in a friendly tone. "I believe you, Nixon. But another question. Were you joined last night by any one of the regiment? recollect yourself."

The corporal declaring that nothing in the shape of an American uniform had come under his notice, since he departed from the Fort the preceding evening, the officer next turned his attention to the boat.

"What are you fumbling about there, Collins?" he asked, rather sharply--"Why do you not go and join your mess?" This was said as the rest of the party were now in the act of moving off with their muskets and fishing apparatus.

"Poor fellow!" interposed the corporal, "he is not himself to-day; but I am sure, Mr. Elmsley, you will not be hard upon him, when I tell you that, but for him, there wouldn't be a man of us here of the whole party."

"Indeed!" exclaimed the lieutenant, not a little surprised at the information; "but we shall hear all about that presently; yet what is he fidgetting about at the bottom of the bow of the boat?"

"There's another body there, sir, besides Le Noir's. It's that of the poor boy at Heywood's--an Indian scalped him and left him for dead.

Collins, who put a bullet into the same fellow, not an hour afterwards, found the boy by accident, while retreating from the place where we had the first scrimmage with the red devils. He was still breathing, and he took every pains to recover him, but the cold night air was too much for him, and he died in the poor fellow's arms."

"Well, this is a strange night's adventure, or rather series of adventures," remarked the lieutenant half aside to himself. "Then, I suppose," he resumed, more immediately addressing the corporal, "he has brought the body of the boy to have him interred with Le Noir?"

"Just so, sir, for he mourns him as if he had been his own child,"

answered Nixon, as the officer departed--"here, Loup Garou, Loup Garou,"

and he whistled to the dog. "Come along, old fellow, and get some breakfast."

But Loup Garou would not stir at the call of his new master. Sorrow was the only feast in which he seemed inclined to indulge, and he continued to crouch near the body of the Canadian as impa.s.sible and motionless as if he was no longer of earth himself.

"Come along, Collins," gently urged the Virginian, approaching the boat, where the former was still feeling the bosom of the dead boy in the vain hope of finding that life was not yet extinct. "It's no use thinking about it; you have done your duty as a soldier, and as a good man, but you see he is gone, and there is no help for it. By and by, we will bury them both together; but come along now. The dog will let n.o.body near them."

"Dash me, corporal, if I ever felt so queer in my life!" answered Collins, in a melancholy tone, strongly in contrast with his habitual brusque gaiety; "but, as you say, it's no use. The poor lad is dead enough at last, and my only comfort now is to bury him, and sometimes look at his grave."

The half-hour given by Captain Headley to the men to clean themselves and eat their breakfasts, afforded his subaltern ample time to take his own, which had all this time been waiting. When he readied his rooms he found that he had another ordeal to go through. Mrs. Elmsley was already at the bead of the table, and pouring out the coffee, with Miss Heywood seated on her left--the latter very pale, and having evidently pa.s.sed a sleepless night. As the officer entered the room, a slight flush overspread her features, for she looked as if she expected him to be accompanied by another, but when he hastily unbuckled his sword, and placed it, with his cap, on a side-table, desiring his wife to lose no time in pouring out the coffee, as he must be off again immediately, she felt, she knew not wherefore, very sick at heart, and became even paler than before. Nor was she at all re-a.s.sured by the tone of commiseration in which, after drawing a chair to her side, and affectionately pressing her hand, he inquired after her own and her mother's health.

"Why, George," said Mrs. Elmsley, who remarked this change in her friend, and in some degree divined the cause, "where are Mr. Ronayne and the doctor? You told me last night they were to breakfast here--and see, one, two, three, four, five cups (pointing at each with her finger), I have prepared accordingly. Indeed, I scarcely think this young lady would have made her appearance at the breakfast-table, had she not expected to meet--who was it, my dear?" and she turned an arch look upon her friend--"ah! I know now--Von Vottenberg."

"Nay, I have no more need of disguise from your husband than from yourself, Margaret," replied Miss Heywood, her coloring cheek in a measure contradicting her words--"it was Harry Ronayne I expected; but,"

she added, with a faint smile, "do not imagine I am quite so romantic as not to be able to take my breakfast, because he is not present to share it; therefore if you please, I also will trouble you for a cup of coffee."

"All in good time," remarked Mrs. Elmsley. "I dare say, Ronayne is engaged in some duty which has prevented him from keeping his engagement as punctually as he could have desired. We shall certainly see him before the breakfast things are removed."

"It seems to me," said her husband, who was taking his meal with the appet.i.te of any other than a hungry man, and even with a shade of vexation on his features, "that you all appear to be very much in the dark here. Why, Margaret, have you not heard what has occurred during the night, as well as this morning?"

"How should I have heard any thing, George?" replied Mrs. Elmsley.

"I have seen no one since you went out this morning--who could have communicated news from without? Surely you ought to know that. Will you have more coffee?"

"No, thank you--I have no appet.i.te for coffee or for any thing else. I almost wish I had not come. Dear Maria," he added, impetuously, taking Miss Heywood's hand in his own; "I know you have a n.o.ble--a courageous heart, and can bear philosophically what I have to tell you."

"I can bear much," was the reply, accompanied by a forced smile, that was contradicted by the quivering of the compressed lip; "and if I could not, I find I must begin to learn. Yet what can you have to tell me, my dear Mr. Elmsley, more than I already divine--my poor father--" and the tears started from her eyes.

"Ha! there at least, I have comfort for you--although there has been sad work at the farm--the fishing-party have come in with the bodies of poor Le Noir and the boy Wilton, but they all say that Mr. Heywood was carried off a prisoner by the Indians."

"Carried off a prisoner," repeated Miss Heywood, a sudden glow animating her pale features--"oh! Elmsley, thank you for that. There is still a hope then?"

"There is indeed a hope; but, dearest Miss Heywood, why must I heal with one hand and wound with the other. If I give comparative good news of your father, there is another who ought to be here, and whose absence at this moment is to me at once a pain and a mystery."

"You mean Harry Ronayne?" she said, hesitatingly, but without manifesting surprise.

"Where the foolish fellow has gone," he continued, "I do not know, but he has disappeared from the Fort, nor has he left the slightest clue by which he may be traced."

"Does Captain Headley know this?" she inquired, recollecting, that part of the conversation that had pa.s.sed between them the preceding day, in reference to the succor that might have been afforded at the farm.

"He does. I made the report of Ronayne's absence to him personally, and the doctor was summoned to state if he had seen any thing of him. He, however, was as ignorant as a man, who had been drunk during the night, and was not yet quite sober in the morning, could well be. The captain was as much surprised as displeased, but further inquiry was delayed on the sergeant of the guard coming up and announcing the near approach of the boat containing the fishing-party."

"Tell me, dear Mr. Elmsley," said Miss Heywood, after a few moments of seeming reflection; "what is your own opinion of the matter? How do you account--or have you at all endeavored to account for Ronayne's absence?"

"I can easily understand the cause," he replied, "but confound me if I can attempt to divine the means he took to accomplish his object."

He then proceeded to relate the circ.u.mstances of his proposal to Captain Headley--the abrupt refusal he had met with--his subsequent application to himself to pa.s.s him out of the gate, and the final abandonment of his request when he found that his acquiescence would seriously compromise him, as officer of the guard.

"n.o.ble Harry!" thought Miss Heywood--"your confusion, your vexation of yesterday, arose from not being able to follow your own generous impulses: but now I fully understand the resolve you secretly made--and all for my sake. Do not think me very romantic," she said aloud to Mr.

Elmsley, "but really, Margaret, I cannot despair that all will yet, and speedily, be well. The only fear I entertain is that the strict Captain Headley may rebuke him in terms that will call up all the fire of his nature, and induce a retort that may prove a source of serious misunderstanding--unless, indeed, the greatness of the service rendered, plead his justification."

"Now that we are on the subject, dear Miss Heywood," remarked Elmsley, "let me once for all disabuse you of an impression which I fear you entertain--or is it so? Do you think that Ronayne has had an opportunity of joining the party at the farm?"

"Certainly, I do," she answered, gravely, "or why should he have gone forth? Pray do not rob me of what little comfort, in expectation, I have left."

"That he went forth madly and single-handed for the purpose, I can believe--nay, I am sure of it; but I grieve to add that he has not been seen there."

"This, indeed, is strange," she returned in faltering tones, and with ill-disguised emotion, for, hitherto she had been sustained by the belief that he was merely lingering behind the party, in order to satisfy himself of facts, the detail of which could not fail to be satisfactory to her ear. "How know you this?"

"I questioned Corporal Nixon, who commanded the party, and who apprised me of Mr. Heywood's having been carried off by the Indians, for I was deeply anxious, as you may presume, to know what had become of my friend--and this far less even for my own sake than for yours."

"And his answer was?" and there was deep melancholy in the question.

"That no American uniform had come under his notice during his absence from the Fort, save those of the party he commanded. These, as far as I can recollect, were his precise words."

"Mr. Elmsley," said a sentry, who now appeared at the door of the breakfast-parlor, "Captain Headley waits for you in the orderly room."

"Is Corporal Nixon there?" asked the lieutenant.

"He is, sir."

"Good, Dixon, I shall be there immediately."

"G.o.d bless you," he continued, to Miss Heywood, when the man had departed. "We shall, perhaps, elicit from him, something that will throw light upon the obscure part of this matter. Margaret, do not leave the dear girl alone, but cheer up her spirits, and make her hope for the best."

So saying, he shook her hand affectionately, pushed back his chair from the table, and resuming his cap and sword, left the friends together, promising to return as soon as the examination of the man should be concluded.

CHAPTER IX.