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death at Miller's hands only to fall and die at her feet defending her. Your
words set me on fire. What right have you to say that? How do you know?"
The hunter leaned forward and put his hand on Alfred's shoulder. On his pale
face was that sublime light which comes to great souls when they give up a
life long secret, or when they sacrifice what is best beloved. His broad chest
heaved: his deep voice trembled.
"Listen. I'm not a man fer words, and it's hard to tell. Betty loves you.
I've carried her in my arms when she was a baby. I've made her toys and played
with her when she was a little girl. I know all her moods. I can read her like
I do the moss, and the leaves, and the bark of the forest. I've loved her all
my life. That's why I know she loves you. I can feel it. Her happiness is the
only dear thing left on earth fer me. And that's why I'm your friend."
In the silence that followed his words the door opened and closed and he was
gone.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Betty awoke with a start. She was wide awake in a second. The moonbeams came
through the leaves of the maple tree near her window and cast fantastic
shadows on the wall of her room. Betty lay quiet, watching the fairy-like
figures on the wall and listening intently. What had awakened her? The night
was still; the crow of a cock in the distance proclaimed that the hour of dawn
was near at hand. She waited for Tige's bark under her window, or Sam's voice,
or the kicking and trampling of horses in the barn--sounds that usually broke
her slumbers in the morning. But no such noises were forthcoming. Suddenly she
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heard a light, quick tap, tap, and then a rattling in the corner. It was like
no sound but that made by a pebble striking the floor, bounding and rolling
across the room. There it was again. Some one was tossing stones in at her
window. She slipped out of bed, ran, and leaned on the window-sill and looked
out. The moon was going down behind the hill, but there was light enough for
her to distinguish objects. She saw a dark figure crouching by the fence.
"Who is it?" said Betty, a little frightened, but more curious.
"Sh-h-h, it's Miller," came the answer, spoken in low voice.
The bent form straightened and stood erect. It stepped forward under Betty's
window. The light was dim, but Betty recognized the dark face of Miller. He
carried a rifle in his hand and a pack on his shoulder.
"Go away, or I'll call my brother. I will not listen to you," said Betty,
making a move to leave the window.
"Sh-h-h, not so loud," said Miller, in a quick, hoarse whisper. "You'd better
listen. I am going across the border to join Girty. He is going to bring the
Indians and the British here to burn the settlement. If you will go away with
me I'll save the lives of your brothers and their families. I have aided Girty
and I have influence with him. If you won't go you'll be taken captive and
you'll see all your friends and relatives scalped and burned. Quick, your
answer."
"Never, traitor! Monster! I'd be burned at the stake before I'd go a step
with you!" cried Betty.
"Then remember that you've crossed a desperate man. If you escape the
massacre you will beg on your knees to me. This settlement is doomed. Now, go
to your white-faced lover. You'll find him cold. Ha! Ha! Ha!" and with a
taunting laugh he leaped the fence and disappeared in the gloom.
Betty sank to the floor stunned, horrified. She shuddered at the malignity
expressed in Miller's words. How had she ever been deceived in him? He was in
league with Girty. At heart he was a savage, a renegade. Betty went over his
words, one by one.
"Your white-faced lover. You will find him cold," whispered Betty. "What did
he mean?"
Then came the thought. Miller had murdered Clarke. Betty gave one agonized
quiver, as if a knife had been thrust into her side, and then her paralyzed
limbs recovered the power of action. She flew out into the passage-way and
pounded on her brother's door.
"Eb! Eb! Get up! Quickly, for God's sake!" she cried. A smothered
exclamation, a woman's quick voice, the heavy thud of feet striking the floor
followed Betty's alarm. Then the door opened.
"Hello, Betts, what's up?" said Col. Zane, in his rapid voice.
At the same moment the door at the end of the hall opened and Isaac came out.
"Eb, Betty, I heard voices out doors and in the house. What's the row?"
"Oh, Isaac! Oh, Eb! Something terrible has happened!" cried Betty,
breathlessly.
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"Then it is no time to get excited," said the Colonel, calmly. He placed his
arm round Betty and drew her into the room. "Isaac, get down the rifles. Now,
Betty, time is precious. Tell me quickly, briefly."
"I was awakened by a stone rolling on the floor. I ran to the window and saw
a man by the fence. He came under my window and I saw it was Miller. He said
he was going to join Girty. He said if I would go with him he would save the
lives of all my relatives. If I would not they would all be killed, massacred,
burned alive, and I would be taken away as his captive. I told him I'd rather
die before I'd go with him. Then he said we were all doomed, and that my
white-faced lover was already cold. With that he gave a laugh which made my
flesh creep and ran on toward the river. Oh! he has murdered Mr. Clarke."
"Hell! What a fiend!" cried Col. Zane, hurriedly getting into his clothes.
"Betts, you had a gun in there. Why didn't you shoot him? Why didn't I pay
more attention to Wetzel's advice?"
"You should have allowed Clarke to kill him yesterday," said Isaac. "Like as
not he'll have Girty here with a lot of howling devils. What's to be done?"
"I'll send Wetzel after him and that'll soon wind up his ball of yarn,"
answered Col. Zane.
"Please--go--and find--if Mr. Clarke--"
"Yes, Betty, I'll go at once. You must not lose courage, Betty. It's quite
probable that Miller has killed Alfred and that there's worse to follow."
"I'll come, Eb, as soon as I have told Myeerah. She is scared half to death,"
said Isaac, starting for the door.
"All right, only hurry," said Col. Zane, grabbing his rifle. Without wasting
more words, and lacing up his hunting shirt as he went he ran out of the room.
The first rays of dawn came streaking in at the window The chill gray light
brought no cheer with its herald of the birth of another day. For what might
the morning sun disclose? It might shine on a long line of painted Indians.
The fresh breeze from over the river might bring the long war whoop of the
savage.
No wonder Noah and his brother, awakened by the voice of their father, sat up
in their little bed and looked about with frightened eyes. No wonder Mrs.
Zane's face blanched. How many times she had seen her husband grasp his rifle
and run out to meet danger!
"Bessie," said Betty. "If it's true I will not be able to bear it. It s all
my fault."
"Nonsense! You heard Eb say Miller and Clarke had quarreled before. They
hated each other before they ever saw you."
A door banged, quick footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Isaac came rushing
into the room. Betty, deathly pale, stood with her hands pressed to her bosom,
and looked at Isaac with a question in her eyes that her tongue could not
speak.
"Betty, Alfred's badly hurt, but he's alive. I can tell you no more now,"
said Isaac. "Bessie, bring your needle, silk linen, liniment-- everything you
need for a bad knife wound, and come quickly."
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Betty's haggard face changed as if some warm light had been reflected on it;
her lips moved, and with a sob of thankfulness she fled to her room.
Two hours later, while Annie was serving breakfast to Betty and Myeerah, Col.
Zane strode into the room. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]