Hardscrabble; or, the fall of Chicago. a tale of Indian warfare by John Richardson


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Page 48

"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 impassible 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 nobody 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 passed 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-assured
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."

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