BROCK. Few find like him the substance of their dreams.

But, Elliott, let us seek Tec.u.mseh now. Stay, friends, till we return.

[_Exeunt_ BROCK _and_ ELLIOTT.]

GLEGG. How odd to find An old friend in this fashion!

PROCTOR. Humph! a fool Who dotes on forest tramps and savages.

Why, at the best, they are the worst of men; And this Tec.u.mseh has so strained my temper, So over-stept my wishes, thrid my orders, That I would sooner ask the devil's aid Than such as his.

NICHOL. Why, Brock is charmed with him!

And, as you saw, at Amherstburg he put Most stress upon opinion when he spoke.

MACDONELL. Already they've determined on a.s.sault.

PROCTOR. Then most unwisely so! There are no bounds To this chief's rashness, and our General seem Swayed by it too, or rashness hath a twin.

NICHOL. Well, rashness is the wind of enterprise, And blows its banners out. But here they come Who dig beneath their rashness for their reasons.

_Re-enter_ GENERAL BROCK _and_ COLONEL ELLIOTT, _accompanied by_ TEc.u.mSEH, _conversing_.

TEc.u.mSEH. We have been much abused! and have abused Our fell destroyers too--making our wrongs The gauge of our revenge. And, still forced back From the first justice and the native right, Ever revenge hath sway. This we would void, And, by a common boundary, prevent.

So, granting that a portion of our own Is still our own, then let that portion be Confirmed by sacred treaty to our tribes.

This is my sum of asking--you have ears!

BROCK. Nay, then, Tec.u.mseh, speak of it no more!

My promise is a pledge, and from a man Who never turned his back on friend or foe.

The timely service you have done our cause, Rating not what's to come, would warrant it.

So, if I live, possess your soul of this-- No treaty for a peace, if we prevail, Will bear a seal that doth not guard your rights.

Here, take my sash, and wear it for my sake-- Tec.u.mseh can esteem a soldier's gift.

TEc.u.mSEH. Thanks, thanks, my brother, I have faith in you; My life is at your service!

BROCK. Gentlemen, Have you considered my proposal well Touching the capture of Detroit by storm? What say you Colonel Proctor?

PROCTOR. I object! 'Tis true, the enemy has left our sh.o.r.es, But what a sorry argument is this!

For his withdrawal, which some sanguine men, Jumping all other motives, charge to fear, Prudence, more deeply searching, lays to craft.

Why should a foe, who far outnumbers us, Retreat o'er this great river, save to lure Our poor force after him? And, having crossed-- Our weakness seen, and all retreat cut off-- What would ensue but absolute surrender, Or sheer destruction? 'Tis too hazardous!

Discretion balks at such a mad design.

BROCK. What say the rest?

1ST OFFICER. I fear 'tis indiscreet.

2ND OFFICER. 'Twould be imprudent with our scanty force.

BROCK. What say you, Nichol, to my foolish scheme?

NICHOL. I think it feasible and prudent too.

Hull's letters, captured by Tec.u.mseh, prove His soldiers mutinous, himself despondent.

And dearly Rumor loves the wilderness, Which gives a thousand echoes to a tongue That ever swells and magnifies our strength.

And in this flux we take him, on the hinge Of two uncertainties--his force and ours.

So, weighed, objections fall; and our attempt, Losing its grain of rashness, takes its rise In clearest judgment, whose effect will nerve All Canada to perish, ere she yield.

BROCK. My very thoughts! What says Tec.u.mseh now?

TEc.u.mSEH. I say attack the fort!

This very night I'll cross my braves, if you decide on this.

BROCK. Then say no more! Glegg, take a flag of truce, And bear to Hull this summons to surrender.

Tell him Tec.u.mseh and his force are here-- A host of warriors brooding on their wrongs, Who, should resistance flush them to revenge, Would burst from my control like wind-borne fire, And match on earth the miseries of h.e.l.l.

But, should he yield, his safety is a.s.sured.

Tell him Tec.u.mseh's word is pledged to this, Who, though his temperate will in peace is law Yet casts a loose rein to enforced rage.

Add what your fancy dictates; but the stress Place most on what I speak of--this he fears, And these same fears, well wrought upon by you, May prove good workers for us yet.

GLEGG. I go, And shall acquit myself as best I can.

[_Exit_ GLEGG.]

BROCK. Tec.u.mseh, wonder not at such a message!

The guilty conscience of your foes is judge Of their deserts, and hence 'twill be believed.

The answer may be 'nay,' so to our work-- Which perfected, we shall confer again, Then cross at break of morn.

[_Exeunt all but_ TEc.u.mSEH.]

TEc.u.mSEH. This is a man!

And our great father, waking from his sleep, Has sent him to oar aid. Master of Life, Endue my warriors with double strength!

May the wedged helve be faithful to the axe, The arrow fail not, and the flint be firm!

That our great vengeance, like the whirlwind fell, May cleave through thickets of our enemies A broad path to our ravaged lands again.

[_Exit_.]

SCENE SIXTH.--MOONLIGHT. THE BANK OF THE DETROIT RIVER, NEAR THE BABY MANSION.

_Enter_ CAPTAIN ROBINSON.

ROBINSON. I thought to find my brother here--poor boy, The day's hard labor woos him to his rest.

How sweet the night! how beautiful the place!

Who would not love thee, good old Sandwich town!

Abode of silence and sweet summer dreams-- Let speculation pa.s.s, nor progress touch Thy silvan homes with hard, unhallowed hand!

The light wind whispers, and the air is rich With vapours which exhale into the night; And, round me here, this village in the leaves Darkling doth slumber. How those giant pears Loom with uplifted and high-ancient heads, Like forest trees! A hundred years ago They, like their owner, had their roots in France-- In fruitful Normandy--but here refuse Unlike, to multiply, as if their spirits Grieved in their alien home. The village sleeps, So should I seek that hospitable roof Of thine, thou good old loyalist, Baby!

Thy mansion is a shrine, whereto shall come On pilgrimages, in the distant days, The strong and generous youths of Canada, And, musing there in rich imaginings, Restore the balance and the beaver-pack To the wide hall; see forms of savagery, Vanished for ages, and the stately shades Of great Tec.u.mseh and high-hearted Brock.

So shall they profit, drinking of the past, And, drinking loyally, enlarge the faith Which love of country breeds in n.o.ble minds.

But now to sleep--good night unto the world!

[_Exit_.]