Part 19 (2/2)
”Eyther that, or he shall kill me.”
”Oh! nonsense!” I exclaimed, surprised less at the intention--which I had already half divined--than at the cool determined tone in which it was declared.
”I've said it, stranger! I've sworn it over an' over, an' it sh.e.l.l be done. 'Taint no new notion I've tuk. I'd detarmined on makin' him fight long ago: for I'd an old score to settle wi' him, afore that 'un you know o'; but I niver ked got the skunk to stan' up. He allers tuk care to keep out o' my way. Now I've made up my mind he don't dodge me any longer; an', by the Etarnal! if that black-hearted snake's to be foun' in the settlement--”
”He is not to be found in the settlement.”
”Not to be foun' in the settlement!” echoed the hunter, in a tone that betrayed both surprise and vexation--”not to be foun' in the settlement?
Surely you ain't in earnest, stranger? You seed him the day afore yesterday!”
”True--but I have reason to think he is gone.”
”G.o.d forbid! But you ain't sure o' it? What makes you think he air gone?”
”Too sure of it--it was that knowledge that brought me in such haste to your cabin.”
I detailed the events of the morning, which Wingrove had not yet heard; my brief interview with the Indian maiden--her figurative prophecy that had proved but two truthful. I described the deserted dwelling; and at last read to him the letter of Lilian--read it from beginning to end.
He listened with attention, though chafing at the delay. Once or twice only did he interrupt me, with the simple expression--”Poor little Lil!”
”Poor little Lil!” repeated he when I had finished. ”She too gone wi'
him!--just as Marian went six months ago!
”No--no!” he exclaimed correcting himself, in a voice that proclaimed the agony of his thoughts. ”No! it war different--altogether different: _Marian went willin'ly_.”
”How know you that?” I said, with a half-conceived hope of consoling him.
”Know it? O stranger! I'm sure o' it; Su-wa-nee sayed so.”
”That signifies nothing. It is not the truer of her having said so. A jealous and spiteful rival. Perhaps the very contrary is the truth?
Perhaps Marian was forced to marry this, man? Her father may have influenced her: and it is not at all unlikely, since he appears to be himself under some singular influence--as if in dread of his saintly son-in-law. I noticed some circ.u.mstances that would lead one to this conclusion.”
”Thank ye, stranger, for them words!” cried the young hunter, rus.h.i.+ng forward; and grasping me eagerly by the hand. ”It's the first bit o'
comfort I've had since Marian war tuk away! I've heerd myself that Holt war afeerd o' Stebbins; an' maybe that snake in the gra.s.s had a coil about him somehow. I confess ye, it often puzzled me, Marian's takin'
it so to heart, an' all about a bit o' a kiss--which I wudn't a tuk, if the Indian hadn't poked her lips clost up to myen. Lord o' mercy! I'd gie all I've got in the world, to think it war true as you've sayed.”
”I have very little doubt of its being true. I have now seen your rival; and I think it altogether improbable she would, of her own free will, have preferred him to you.”
”Thank ye, stranger! it's kind in you to say so. She's now married an'
gone: but if I thort thar had been _force_ used, I'd 'a done long ago _what I mean to do now_.”
”What is that?” I asked, struck by the emphatic energy with which the last words were spoken. ”Foller _him_, if it be to the furrest eend o'
the world! Yes, stranger! I mean it. I'll go arter him, an' track him out. I'll find him in the bottom o' a Californey gold mine, or wherever he may try to hide hisself; an', by the etarnal! I'll wipe out the score--both the old un and the new un--in the skunk's blood, or I'll never set fut agin in the state o' Tennessee. I've made up my mind to it.”
”You are determined to follow him?”
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