His answered Guy, reflectively; a very old man. title is deucedly near all he has to leave his heir, for we Kingslands have ever been an improvident race; but what with the dangers lurking in every shadow of this wild, lawless land, it would scarcely be surprising if, as was predicted by a soothsayer, he should be the last male of his line. He may outlive you and me. me." "Tush! You have an attack of the blue devils. -have 'em myself upon occasions, and oddly enough they thrive in this confoundedly dull atmosphere. We will leave the colonies as soon as this business is off my hands-a matter of a few months. We will sail in the first ship that clears port in the spring. There shall be a grand wedding, and you will settle down with your bride to enjoy the wealth that I have amassed. As for me, I'll have my suit of apartments, my grog and my pipe as I go down into the lean and slippered stage of existence. How do you like the picture?" "Excellently well," assented Guy. "I'm confoundedly at odds with this beastly forest and all its concomitants in the shape of red heathen, wolves, bears and reptiles, and I'm sure I shall bid these shores a long adieu without a regret." "In a week, probably, if the winds and waves are not too boisterous, and nothing occurs to delay her passage, the staunch ship Blessing will drop anchor here, on her voyage to New Amsterdam. By AllHallow Eve my fate will be decided, whether I am to be the fortunate possessor of a township or otherwise," declared the Major, as he complacently knocked the ashes from his pipe and poured a couple of glasses of brandy. "Let's drink to the success of my mission." The glasses clinked, and bidding the Major good-night Guy went to his couch to dream of-Heather Flower. CHAPTER XXXI HEART STRUGGLES "A spirit pure as hers, Is always pure, even while it errs; Though turned astray, is sunshine still." W HERE, in all this vast wilderness, is he tonight? Does he gaze on yonder moon shining so coldly, and think of one who loves him in spite of stern duty? Shall we ever meet again? Oh, that I had been free-free to love as my heart dictates, then all would have been well, but now-ah, me!" Damaris Gordon, sitting in the firelight glow in her own chamber, was very lovely, even with the shadow of the sorrow that had come so lately clouding her face. From her father she had inherited little besides her pride; from her gentle mother, who had died while yet her child was an infant, she derived the exquisite tenderness of her nature, the lovely face and the soul-lit, violet eyes, the wealth of amber tresses, and, more than all, the constant, true heart. Her own nature had been a sealed book hitherto, even to herself, and she accepted the man destined by her father as her future husband without demur, never dreaming that her heart was capable of a more passionate, abiding love than the sisterly affection she had given, an affection undisturbed by even a ripple of jealousy. Now the hidden scroll was unrolled, and her very soul trembled in the reading. "Oh, how this love would have ennobled my whole being!" she murmured, brokenly. "It was cruel, a terrible wrong to me-to Guy, this betrothal, while neither could possibly know the evil that might result! It is horrible to feel the fetters corroding the heart, bonds that may not be broken! Guy, poor Guy! He loves me, and unwittingly I have wronged him. Thank God that this love for another was not weak. God knows how I have struggled against it, and if I cannot conquer, mine shall be the suffering, mine the martyrdom; never shall Guy be tortured with the knowledge, and may the All-Father help me to be a true and tender wife. But oh, he is so different!" and in that piteous cry the inward sense, an intuition of the shallowness of the gay young Lieutenant was uttered, and one by one the slow tears fell, for in spite of her will a leaden sense of Guy's lack of heart oppressed her. The firelight settled in a dull, red glow within a circumscribed circle, but the white October moon streamed through the diamond-shaped panes of the window and lay in a fleecy whiteness over the forest and sea, piercing the curtain of leaves, now purple, yellow and crimson, shivering in the frosty air and fluttering down like a shower of rubies, amethysts and topaz, one by one, fast weaving a gay, partihued carpet upon the brown, frost-nipped sward. The brazen-tongued clock upon the stair landing tolled out the hour-eleven solemn, measured strokes, and the sound aroused her from her painful reverie. A long line of light was trailing like a red banner tingeing the pearly moonlight with faint pink where the rival rays met, the glow of firelight and waxlight streaming through the open window of her father's chamber, but as she looked the red-gleam was extingished, leaving naught save the misty, pearly rays, and the slipping of a sash told her that the open casement had been closed. She was about to draw down the curtains when a moving shadow upon the edge of the grove a short distance from the mansion attracted her attention. It was at a spot where, at that hour, she would have looked for no one; yet she could not be mistaken for the figure halted just upon the edge of the fringe of shadow, and she made out the form of an Indian, slender, tall, straight-limbed. Half frightened, wholly mystified, she watched the intruder, who finally stepped full into the moonlight, his face turned toward the dwelling, his head erect; he stood quite still, but the distance was too great to allow her to recognise the features, but she was certain that it was neither Tohemon or Macrobow-the figure was too slender. Only a moment he remained, then he turned and was lost in the darkness shrouding the avenue. The gait, the form, were strangely like Wyancombone, and puzzling over the question of what the presence of the young Indian might signify at that hour and in that place, she at last came to the conclusion that she had been deceived by the uncertain moonlight and that it must have been one of the Mohicans, and thus cogitating she undressed and sought her couch. It was, in truth, Wyancombone whom she had seen as he stole down the avenue, and the errand that had brought him to Gardiner Hall had been accomplished; another link in the chain that would bring retributive justice to the guilty had been forged. Keen of intellect, quick of perception, even beyond the ordinary acuteness of the Indian, and far beyond his years, he had pondered upon the startling circumstances attending the attack by the Narragansetts, and every hour the convicition became deeper that Ninigret could not have accomplished his object without the assistance of a confederate who must be thoroughly acquainted with the situation, and who was fully informed regarding the exact date of the festivities. The singular occurrence concerning the concealment of the boats at Man-cho-nock, that had been so cunningly hidden that the family at the hall had been prevented from attending the wedding, and thus had been safe from the massacre, coupled with the items which the youth had gathered by dint of craftily put inquiries, that it was upon that portion of the island which Major Gordon had searched where the boats were finally discovered, was suspicious. Clearly, had it been the work of a person desirous of injuring Captain Gardiner it would have been easier to have cut them loose from their moorings and allowed them to be carried away. That there was method in the proceeding, and that it was actuated by some deep motive, Wyancombone felt assured, but with what intent any person upon the island could have betrayed the Montauks to their deadly foes he could not divine, and brooding over the mystery he determined to solve it. Several times he had rowed over to the island, mooring his canoe at various points distant from the usual landing, concealing himself until nightfall and contriving to approach the wigwam occupied by the Mohicans, in expectation that their unguarded conversation might give him a clew; but after a time he knew by their allusions to the subject that they were without the slightest knowledge concerning the matter. |