CHAPTER XI
With great pain Lord H---- contemplated the task before him; but hiswas a firm and resolute heart, and he strode forward quickly, toaccomplish it as soon as possible. Fancy painted, as he went, all thegrief and anguish he was about to inflict upon Edith; but fancy hardlydid her justice, for it kept out of the picture many of the strongerand finer traits of her character. The beautiful girl was watchingfrom the window, and at once recognized her lover as he issued fromthe wood alone. Her heart sank with apprehension, it is true, butnevertheless she ran out along the little path to meet him, in orderto know the worst at once. Before they met, slowly and heavily herfather came forth from the wood, with a crowd of boatmen and soldiersfollowing, in groups of six or seven at a time; and with wonderfulaccuracy, she divined the greater part of what had occurred. Sheinstantly stopped till Lord H---- came up, and then inquired in a lowand trembling voice: "Have you found him? Is he dead or living?"
"We have not found him, dear Edith," said Lord H----, taking her handand leading her toward the house, "but your father conceives there isgreat cause for apprehension of the very worst kind, from what we havefound. I trust, however, that his fears go beyond the reality, andthat there is still----"
"Oh, dear George, do not keep me in suspense!" said Edith. "Let mehear all at once. My mind is sufficiently prepared by long hours ofpainful thought. I will show none of the weakness I displayed thismorning. What is it you have found?"
"His knife and his knapsack," replied Lord H----.
"He may have cast it off from weariness," said Edith, catching at ahope.
"I fear not," replied her lover, unwilling to encourage expectationsto be disappointed. "The straps of the knapsack were cut, notunbuckled, and your father has given himself up entirely to despair,although we found no traces of strife or bloodshed."
"Poor Waiter!" said Edith, with a deep sigh; but she shed no tears,and walked on in silence till they had reached the little veranda ofthe house. Then suddenly she stopped, roused herself from her fit ofthought, and said, raising her beautiful and tender eyes to herlover's face: "I have now two tasks before me to which I must givemyself up entirely--to console my poor father, and to try to save mybrother's life. Forgive me, George, if in executing these, especiallythe latter, I do not seem to give you as much of my thoughts as youhave a right to. You would not, I know, have me neglect either."
"God forbid!" said Lord H----, warmly; "but let me share in them,Edith. There is nothing within the scope of honor and of right that Iwill not do to save your brother. I sent him on this ill-starrederrand. To gratify me was that unfortunate expedition made through thewood; but it is enough that he is your brother and your father's son,and I will do anything, undertake anything, if there be still a hope.Go to your father first, my love, and then let us consult together. Iwill see these men attended to, for they want rest and food, and Imust take liberties with your father's house to provide for them."
"Do! do!" she answered. "Use it as your own;" and leaving him in theveranda she turned to meet her father.
For the time, Edith well knew Mr. Prevost's mind was not likely toreceive either hope or consolation. All she could give him wastenderness; and Lord H----, who followed her to speak with thesoldiers and boatmen, soon saw her disappear into the house with Mr.Prevost. When he returned to the little sitting-room Edith was notthere, but he heard the murmur of voices from the room above, and inabout half an hour she rejoined him. She was much more agitated thanwhen she left him, and her face showed marks of tears; not that herfears were greater, or that she had heard anything to alarm her more,but her father's deep despair had overpowered her own firmness. Allthe weaker affections of human nature are infectious--fear, despair,dismay and sorrow peculiarly so.
Edith still felt, however, the importance of decision and action, andputting her hand to her head with a look of bewilderment, she stoodfor an instant in silence, with her eyes fixed on the ground,seemingly striving to collect her scattered thoughts in order to judgeand act with precision.
"One of the boatmen, Edith," said Lord H----, leading her to a seat,"has led me to believe that we shall have ample time for any effortsto serve your brother, if he has, as there is too much reason to fear,fallen into the hands of these revengeful Indians. The man seems toknow well what he talks of, and boasts that he has been accustomed tothe ways and manners of the savages since boyhood."
"Is he a tall, handsome man, with two beautiful children?" askedEdith.
"He is a tall, good-looking man," answered Lord H----, "but hischildren I did not see."
"If he be the man I mean, he can be fully depended upon," answeredEdith, "and it may be well to ask his opinion and advice before hegoes; but for the present, George, let us consult alone. Perhaps I canjudge better than you of poor Walter's present situation; that isfirst to be considered, and then what are the chances, what the means,of saving him. He is certainly in the hands of the Indians, of that Ihave no doubt; and I think Black Eagle knew it when he guided usthrough the forest. Yet I do not think that he would willingly liftthe tomahawk against my brother. It will be at the last extremity,when all means have failed of entrapping that unhappy man Brooks. Weshall have time; yes, we certainly have time."
"Then the first step to be taken," said Lord H----, "will be to inducethe government to make a formal and imperative demand for his release.I will undertake that part of the matter; it shall be done at once."
Edith shook her head sadly. "You know them not," she said. "It wouldonly hurry his fate;" and after dropping her voice to a very low tone,she added: "They would negotiate and hold councils, and Walter wouldbe slain while they were treating."
She pressed her hands upon her eyes as she spoke, as if to shut outthe dreadful image her words called up, and then there was a moment ortwo of silence, at the end of which Lord H---- inquired if it wouldnot be better for him to see Sir William Johnson and consult with him.
"That may be done," said Edith. "No man in the province knows them aswell as he does, and his advice may be relied upon; but we must takeother measures, too. Otaitsa must be told, and consulted. Do you know,George," she added, with a melancholy smile, "I have lately beeninclined at times to think that there is no small love between Walterand the Blossom--something more than friendship, at all events."
"But of course she will hear of his capture, and do the best she canto save him," replied the young nobleman.
Edith shook her head, answering: "Save him she will, if any humanpower can do it; but that she knows of his capture I much doubt. TheseIndians are wise, George, as they think, and never trust their acts,their thoughts, or their resolutions to a woman. They will keep thesecret from Otaitsa just as Black Eagle kept it from me; but she mustbe informed, consulted, and perhaps acted with. Then I think, too,that poor man Woodchuck should have tidings of what his act hasbrought upon us."
"I see not well," said Lord H----, "what result that can produce."
"Nor I," answered Edith; "but yet it ought to be done, in justice toourselves and to him. He is bold, skillful, and resolute, and we mustnot judge of any matter in this country as we should judge in Europe.He may undertake and execute something for my brother's rescue whichyou and I would never dream of. He is just the man to do so and tosucceed. He knows every path of the forest, every lodge of theIndians. He is friendly with many of them, has saved the lives of someof them, I have heard him say, and conferred great obligations uponothers; and I believe that he will never rest till he has deliveredWalter."
"Then I will find him out and let him know the facts directly," saidLord H----; "perhaps he and Otaitsa may act together, if we can openany communication with her."
"She will act by herself and for herself, I am sure," replied Edith,"and some communication must be opened at any and all risk. But let ussee this man, George; perhaps he may know someone going into theIndian territory who may carry a letter to her. It is a great blessingshe can read and write, for we must have our secrets, too, if we wouldfrustrate theirs."
Lord H---- rose, and proceeded to the hall, where the men whom he hadbrought with him were busily engaged in dispatching such provisions asMr. Prevost's house could afford on the spur of the moment. The man hesought for was soon found, and when he had eaten the morsel almostbetween his teeth, he followed the young nobleman into the lesserroom, and was soon in full conference with Edith and her lover. Heagain expressed the opinion that no harm would happen to young WalterPrevost for some months, at the least. "They have caught someone," hesaid, "to make sure of their revenge, and that is all they wanted forthe present. Now they will look for the man that did it, and catch himif they can."
"Can you tell where he is to be found?" asked Lord H----, in a quiettone.
"Why, you would not give him up to them?" said the man, sharply.
"Certainly not," replied Lord H----. "He is in safety, and of thatsafety I have no right to deprive him; it would make me an accessoryto their act. But I wish to see him, to tell him what has occurred,and to consult him as to what is to be done."
"That is a very different case," replied the man, gravely, "and ifthat's all you want, I don't mind telling you that he is in Albany, atthe public house of the Three Boatmen. Our people, who rowed him down,said he did not intend to leave Albany for a week or more."
"And now, Robert," said Edith, "can you tell me where I can get amessenger to the Oneidas? I know you loved my brother Walter, and Ithink, if you can get somebody to go for me, we may save him."
"I did indeed love him well, Miss Prevost," replied the stout man,with his hard, firm eye moistening, "and I'd do anything in reason tosave him. It's a sad thing we did not know of this yesterday, forthere was a half-breed Onondaga runner passed by and got some milkfrom us, and I gave him the panther's skin which you told some of ourpeople to send, my lord, in the poor lad's name, to the daughter ofthe old chief Black Eagle."
Edith turned her eyes to her lover's face, and Lord H---- replied totheir inquiring look, saying: "It is true, Edith. Walter shot apanther in the woods, and wished to send the skin to Otaitsa. We hadno time to lose at the moment, but as we came back I induced theguides to skin it, and made them promise to dry and send it forward bythe first occasion."
"I strapped it on his back myself," said the man whom Edith calledRobert, "and gave him the money you sent for him, too, my lord. Hewould have taken my message readily enough, and one could have trustedhim; but it may be months before such another chance offers, I guess.Look here, Miss Edith," he continued, turning toward her with his facefull of earnest expression, "I would go myself, but what would come ofit? They would only kill me instead of your brother, for one man is asgood as another to them in such cases, and perhaps he mightn't getoff, either. But I have a wife and two young children, ma'am, and thatmakes me not quite so ready to risk my life as I was a few years ago."
"It is not to be thought of," said Edith, calmly. "I could ask no oneto go but one at least partly of their own race, for it must be theblood of a white man they spill, I know. All I can desire you to dois, for Master Walter's sake and mine, to seek for one of the Indianrunners who are often about Albany, and about the army, and send himup to me."
"You see, Miss Prevost," replied the man, "there are not so many aboutas there used to be, for it is coming on winter; and as to the army,when Lord Loudon took it to Halifax almost all the runners and scoutswere discharged. Some of them remained with Webb, it is true, but anumber of those were killed and scalped by Montcalm's Hurons. However,I will make it my business to seek one, night and day, and send himup."
"Let it be someone on whom we can depend," said Edith; "someone whomyou have tried and can trust."
"That makes it harder still," said the man; "for though I have triedmany of them, I can trust few of them. However, I will see, and not belong about it, either. But it would be quite nonsense to send you aman who might either never do your message at all, or go and tellthose you don't want to hear it."
"It would, indeed," said Edith, sadly, as all the difficulties andrisks which lay in the way of success were suggested to her by theman's words. "Well, do your best, Robert," she said, at length, aftersome thought, "and as you will have to pay the man, here is the moneyfor----"
"You can pay him yourself, ma'am," replied the boatman, bluntly. "Asfor taking any myself for helping poor Master Walter, that's what Iwon't do. When I've got to take an oar in hand, or anything of thatkind, I make the people pay fast enough what my work is worth, perhapsa little more, sometimes," he added, with a laugh, "but not for suchwork as this--no! no! not for such work as this! So good-bye, MissPrevost; good-bye, my lord. I won't let the grass grow under my feetin looking for some messenger."
Thus saying, he left the room, and Edith and Lord H---- were once moreleft alone together. Sad and gloomy was their conversation,uncheckered by any of those light beams of love and joy which Edithhad fondly fancied were to light her future hours. All was dim andobscure in the future, and the point upon which both their eyes turnedmost intently in the dark, shadowy curtain of coming time was themurkiest and most obscure of all. Still, whatever plan was suggested,whatever course of action was thought of, difficulties rose up tosurround it, and perils presented themselves on all sides.
Nor did the presence of Mr. Prevost, who joined them soon after, tendin any degree to support or to direct. He had lost all hope, at leastfor the time, and the only thing which seemed to afford him a faintgleam of light was the thought of communicating immediately withBrooks.
"I fear Sir William Johnson will do nothing," he said; "he is sodevoted even to the smallest interests of the government, his wholemind is so occupied with this one purpose of cementing the alliancebetween Britain and the Five Nations, that on my life I believe hewould suffer any man's son to be butchered rather than risk offendingan Indian tribe."
"In his position it is very difficult for him to act," said LordH----, "but it might be as well to ascertain his feelings and hisviews by asking his advice as to how you should act yourself. Counselhe will be very willing to give, I am sure, and in the course ofconversation you might discover how much and how little you may expectfrom his assistance."
"But you said, my dear lord, that you were yourself going to Albanyto-morrow to see poor Brooks," said Mr. Prevost. "I cannot leave Edithhere alone."
All three mused for a moment or two, and Edith, perhaps, the deepestof all. At length, however, she said: "I am quite safe, my father; ofthat I am certain; and you will be so, I am sure, when you rememberwhat I told you of Black Eagle's conduct to me on that fatal night. Hethrew his blanket around me and called me his daughter. Depend uponit, long ere this, the news that I am his adopted child has spreadthrough all the tribes, and no one would dare to lift his hand againstme."
"I can easily----" said Lord H----.
But Edith interrupted him gently, saying: "Stay, George--one moment!Let my father answer. Do you not think, my dear father, that I amquite safe? In a word, do you not believe that I could go from lodgeto lodge as the adopted daughter of Black Eagle, throughout the wholelength of the Long House of the Five Nations, without the slightestrisk of danger? And if so, why should you fear?"
"I do indeed believe you could," replied Mr. Prevost. "Oh, that wecould have extracted such an act from him toward poor Walter! WhatEdith says is right, my lord; we must judge these Indians as we knowthem, and my only fear in leaving her here now would arise in therisks of incursion from the other side of the Hudson."
Lord H---- mused a little. It struck him there was something strangein Edith's way of putting the question to her father, something tooprecise, too minute to be called for by any of the words which hadbeen spoken. It excited nothing like suspicion in his mind, for it washardly possible to look into the face or hear the tones of EdithPrevost, and entertain so foul a thing as suspicion. But it made himdoubt whether she had not some object, high and noble, he was sure,beyond the immediate point, which she did not think fit, as yet, toreveal.
"I was about to say," he replied at length, to the
last words of Mr.Prevost, "that I can easily move a guard up here sufficient to protectthe house; and I need not tell you, my dear sir," he continued, takingEdith's hand, "as the whole treasure of my happiness is here, that Iwould not advise you to leave her for an hour unless I felt sure shewould be safe. I will send down by some of the men who are still inthe house an order to Captain Hammond to march a guard here as earlyas possible to-morrow morning, under a trustworthy sergeant. As soonas it arrives I will set out for Albany; and I think you can go toJohnson's Castle in perfect security."
So it was arranged, and all parties felt no inconsiderable relief whensome course of action was thus decided. Effort, in this world, iseverything. Even the waters of joy will stagnate; and the greatestrelief to care or sorrow, the strongest in danger or adversity, iseffort.
The morning of the following day broke fresh and beautiful. There wasa bright clearness in the sky, a brisk elasticity in the air, that hadnot been seen or felt for weeks. Everything looked sparkling, andsharp, and distinct. Distances were diminished; woods and hills whichhad looked dim appeared near and definite; and the whole world seemedin harmony with energy and effort. The heavy rains of the precedingmorning had cleared the loaded atmosphere, as tears will sometimesclear the oppressed breast, and when Lord H---- and Mr. Prevostmounted their horses to set out, it seemed as if the invigorating airhad restored to the latter the firmness and courage of which the griefand horror of the preceding day had deprived him.
Edith embraced her father, and gave her cheek to the warm touch of herlover's lips; and then she watched them as they rode away till thewood shut them out from her sight. The soldiers were by this timeinstalled in the part of the house destined for them, and some of thenegroes were busy in preparing for their accommodation; but oldAgrippa and the gardener boy, and a woman servant stood near, watchingtheir master and his guest as they departed. As soon as the littleparty was out of sight, however, Edith turned to Agrippa, saying:"Send Chaudo to me in the parlor; I want to speak with him."
As soon as the man appeared she gazed at him earnestly, saying: "Howfar is it to Oneida Lake, Chaudo--have you ever been there?"
"Oh, yes, Missy, often when I was a little boy. Why, you know, myfadder ran away and live wid Ingins long time, 'cause he had badmaster. But Ingins cuff him, and thump him more nor worst massa in theworld, and so he come back again. How far be it? Oh, long way; twiceso far as Johnson Castle, or more. Oh, yes; three times so far."
Edith knew how vague a negro's ideas of distance are, and she then puther question in a form which would get her a more distinct answer.
"Bethink you, Chaudo," she said, "how long it would take me to reachthe lake--how long it would take anyone. Consider it well, and let meknow."
"You, Missy! You!" cried the negro, in great astonishment. "You neverthink of going there?"
"I don't know, Chaudo," she replied. "It might be needful, and I wishto know how long it would take."
"Dat 'pend upon how you go, Missy," replied the man; "ride so far asJohnson Castle, but can't ride no farder. Den walk as I walk? Younever do dat; and if you do, take you five days, and walk hard, too."
Poor Edith's heart sank. "Otaitsa walks," she said, in a despondingtone; "but it is true she can do much that I cannot do."
"She walk? Oh, dear no, Missy!" replied the negro. "She walk littlebit o' way from what dey call Wood Creek, or from de Mohawk. She walkno farder; all de rest she go in canoe, sometimes on Mohawk, sometimeson lake, sometimes on creek. She came here, once, in t'ree day, I hearold Gray Buzzard, de pipe-bearer, say, that time when de sachem comewid his warriors."
"And can I do the same?" asked Edith, eagerly.
"Sure you can, if you get canoe," answered Chaudo; "but oh, Missy,t'ink ob de Ingins! They kidnap Massa Walter; dey kill you, too!"
"There is no fear, Chaudo," replied Edith. "Even my father owns that Icould safely go from one lodge to another, through the whole land ofthe Five Nations, because Black Eagle has put his blanket round me andmade me his daughter."
"Massa know best," said Chaudo; "but if so, why dey kidnap MassaWalter?"
"Black Eagle refused to make him his son, or my father his brother,"said Edith, with the tears rising in her eyes. "But the truth is,Chaudo, that I go to try if I can save poor Walter's life. I go totell the Blossom that they hold my Walter--her Walter--a prisoner, andsee whether she cannot find means to rescue him."
"I see, I see, Missy!" said the man, gravely. And then, after pausingfor a moment, he asked, abruptly: "I go with you?"
"Someone I must have, to show me the way," replied Edith. "Are youafraid, Chaudo?"
"Afraid!" cried the man, bursting into a fit of joyous laughter. "Oh,no, not afraid! Ingins no hurt nigger; kick him, cuff him; no scalphim, 'cause nigger got no scalp-lock. Ha! ha! ha! I go help save MassaWalter. He never hab no good thing but he give Chaudo some. Oh, I'llmanage all for you. We find plenty canoe, Mohawk canoe, Oneida canoe,if we say you Black Eagle's daughter, going to see you sister Otaitsa.When you go, Missy?"
"Very soon, Chaudo," replied Edith, and proceeded to explain her planto him still farther. She said that she wished to set out that veryday, and as soon as possible, in order, first, to communicate thetidings of Walter's capture to Otaitsa without delay; and secondly, tosave her father as many hours of anxiety as possible. She did notabsolutely tell the man that she had not informed her father of herintention, but he divined it well. Nevertheless, when he heardsomewhat more at large the conduct of Black Eagle toward her on thenight of poor Walter's capture, he was quite satisfied of her safetyas far as the Indians were concerned. He urged her, however, to go inthe first place to Johnson Castle, where she could procure a canoe, oreven a batteau, he felt certain; and it was long before hecomprehended her objection to that course. At length, however, hisusual "I see, I see!" showed that he had caught a light at last, andthen he was soon ready with his resources.
"Den we walk to the nearest end of little pond; only t'ree mile," hesaid, "fishing canoe all ready; next we go down little pond and decreek into lake, keep by nort' side, and den walk to Mohawk, t'reemile more. I carry canoe 'cross on my back. Den, Ingin or no Ingin, weget along. If Missy like to take oder nigger, too, we get on veryfast, and he carry bundle."
"I must have one of the women with me," said Edith, in a thoughtfultone, "but which?"
The negro's countenance fell a little. He was very proud of theconfidence placed in him, and he did not like to share it with a whitewoman. His tone, then, was rather dejected, though submissive, when heasked: "Do Missy take white woman, Sally, wid her? Sally no walk.Sally no run. Sally no paddle when Chaudo is tired."
"No," replied Edith at once. "I can take no white person with me,Chaudo, for it would risk her life; and even to save my poor brother Imust not lure another into sad peril. One of your color, Chaudo, theywill not hurt; for it is a white man's blood they will have for awhite man's act."
"Then take Sister Bab!" cried Chaudo, rubbing his hands, with thepeculiar, low negro chuckle. "Sister Bab walk, run, carry bundle, andtwirl paddle wid anybody."
Now Bab was a stout negro woman of about forty years of age, with apleasant countenance and very fine white teeth, who rejoiced in thecognomen of sister, though, to the best of Edith's knowledge, she wassister to no one--in the house, at least. Her usual occupations werein the farmyard, the dairy, and the pigsty; so that Edith had not seenvery much of her; but all that she had seen was pleasant, for SisterBab seemed continually on the watch to do everything for everybody,receiving every order, even from "Master Walter," who was sometimes alittle inconsiderate, with a broad, good-humored grin; and herconstant activity and indefatigable energy promised well for anundertaking such as that in which Edith was engaged.
"Well, Chaudo," said the young lady, "I do not know that I could makea better choice. Send Sister Bab to me, for where dangers such asthese are to be encountered, I will not take anyone without her ownfree consent."
"Oh, she go, I talk wid her," said Chaudo; "you nebber
troubleyourself, Missy. She go to world's end with Miss Edith, and fight likedebbel if dere be need. I nebber saw woman so good at catching fish;she'd hook 'em out like cabbages."
"That may be useful to us, too," said Edith, with a faint smile; "butsend her to me, nevertheless, Chaudo; I want to speak with her beforeI go."
The good woman, when she came, made not the slightest objection; but,on the contrary, looked upon the expedition as something very amusing,which would give a relief to the tedium of her daily labors, and atthe same time afford full occupation for her active spirit. She was asready with suggestions as Chaudo; told Edith everything she had bettertake with her, detailed all her own proposed preparations, and evenbegged for a rifle, declaring that she was as good a shot as "MassaWalter," and had often fired his gun when he had brought it homeundischarged. Edith declined, however, to have a riflewoman in hertrain; and having told her two chosen attendants that she would beready in an hour, retired to make her preparations, and write a fewlines to her father and her lover to account for her absence when theyreturned. Both letters were brief, but we will only look at that whichshe left for Mr. Prevost.
"My dear father," she said, "I am half afraid I am doing wrong intaking the step I am about to take, without your knowledge orapprobation; but I cannot sit still and do nothing while all areexerting themselves to save my poor brother. I feel that it isabsolutely necessary to any hope for his safety that Otaitsa should beinformed immediately of his situation. It may be months before anyIndian runner is found, and my poor brother's fate may be sealed. Wereit to cost my life, I should think myself bound to go. But I am theonly one who can go in perfect safety; for, while promising hisprotection to me, and insuring me against all danger, the Black Eaglerefused to give any assurance in regard to others. You have yourselfacknowledged, my dear father, that I shall be perfectly safe; and Ihave also the advantage of speaking the Indian tongue well. In thesecircumstances would it not be wrong, would it not be criminal in me toremain here idle when I have even a chance of saving my poor brother?Forgive me, then, if I do wrong, on account of the motives which leadme.
"My course is straight to the Mohawk, by the little pond and the lake,and then up the Mohawk and Wood Creek as far as they will carry me;for I wish to save myself as much fatigue as possible, and I ventureto take the canoe from the pond. I have asked Chaudo and Sister Bab toaccompany me, as I know you would wish me to have protection andassistance on the way, in case of any difficulty. I hope to be back insix days at the farthest; and, if possible, I will send a runner toinform you of my safe arrival amongst the Oneidas. Once more, my dearfather, think of the great object I have in view, and forgive youraffectionate daughter."
When these letters were written, Edith dressed herself in full Indiancostume, which had been given her by Otaitsa; and a beautiful Indianmaiden she looked, though the skin was somewhat too fair and her hairwanted the jetty black. In the Indian pouch, or wallet, she placedsome articles of European convenience, and a large hunting knife; andthen, making up a small package of clothes for Sister Bab to carry,she descended to the lower story. Here, however, she met with someimpediments which she had not expected. The news of her proposedexpedition had spread through the whole household and caused almost anopen revolt. The white women were in tears; old Agrippa was clamorous;and the fat black cook declared loudly that Miss Edith was mad, andshould not go. So far, indeed, did she carry her opposition, that theyoung lady was obliged to assume a stern and severe tone, which wasseldom heard in Edith's voice, and command her to retire at once fromher presence. The poor woman was at once overawed, for her courage wasnot very permanent, and, bursting into tears, she left the room,declaring she was sure she should never see Miss Edith again.
Edith then gave all the keys of the house to old Agrippa, with the twoletters which she had written; Chaudo took up the bag of provisionswhich he had prepared; Sister Bab charged herself with the package ofclothes; and Edith, walking between them, turned away from herfather's house, amidst the tears of the white women, and a vociferousburst of grief from the negroes.
Her own heart sank for a moment, and she asked herself, "Shall I everpass that threshold again? Shall I ever be pressed hereafter in thearms of those I so much love?"
But she banished such feelings, and drove away such thoughts; andmurmuring, "My brother--my poor brother!" she walked on.