The Zane Grey Megapack. Zane GreyЧитать онлайн книгу.
in his arms and kissing her. “Now you must not be afraid, nor mind being looked at.”
“Everyone will be kind to you,” said Betty, taking her hand. Myeerah had slipped from Isaac’s arm and hesitated and hung back. “Come,” continued Betty, “I will stay with you, and you need not talk if you do not wish.”
Thus reassured Myeerah allowed Betty to lead her down stairs. Isaac had gone ahead and was waiting at the door.
The big room was brilliantly lighted with pine knots. Mrs. Zane was arranging the dishes on the table. Old Sam and Annie were hurrying to and fro from the kitchen. Col. Zane had just come up the cellar stairs carrying a mouldy looking cask. From its appearance it might have been a powder keg, but the merry twinkle in the Colonel’s eyes showed that the cask contained something as precious, perhaps, as powder, but not quite so dangerous. It was a cask of wine over thirty years old. With Col. Zane’s other effects it had stood the test of the long wagon-train journey over the Virginia mountains, and of the raft-ride down the Ohio. Col. Zane thought the feast he had arranged for Isaac would be a fitting occasion for the breaking of the cask.
Major McCullough, Capt. Boggs and Hugh Bennet had been invited. Wetzel had been persuaded to come. Betty’s friends Lydia and Alice were there.
As Isaac, with an air of pride, led the two girls into the room Old Sam saw them and he exclaimed, “For de Lawd’s sakes, Marsh Zane, dar’s two pippins, sure can’t tell ’em from one anudder.”
Betty and Myeerah did resemble each other. They were of about the same size, tall and slender. Betty was rosy, bright-eyed and smiling; Myeerah was pale one moment and red the next.
“Friends, this is Myeerah, the daughter of Tarhe,” said Isaac simply. “We are to be married tomorrow.”
“Oh, why did you not tell me?” asked Betty in great surprise. “She said nothing about it.”
“You see Myeerah has that most excellent trait in a woman—knowing when to keep silent,” answered Isaac with a smile.
The door opened at this moment, admitting Will Martin and Alfred Clarke.
“Everybody is here now, Bessie, and I guess we may as well sit down to supper,” said Col. Zane. “And, good friends, let me say that this is an occasion for rejoicing. It is not so much a marriage that I mean. That we might have any day if Lydia or Betty would show some of the alacrity which got a good husband for Alice. Isaac is a free man and we expect his marriage will bring about peace with a powerful tribe of Indians. To us, and particularly to you, young people, that is a matter of great importance. The friendship of the Hurons cannot but exert an influence on other tribes. I, myself, may live to see the day that my dream shall be realized—peaceful and friendly relations with the Indians, the freedom of the soil, well-tilled farms and growing settlements, and at last, the opening of this glorious country to the world. Therefore, let us rejoice; let every one be happy; let your gayest laugh ring out, and tell your best story.”
Betty had blushed painfully at the entrance of Alfred and again at the Colonel’s remark. To add to her embarrassment she found herself seated opposite Alfred at the table. This was the first time he had been near her since the Sunday at the meeting-house, and the incident had a singular effect on Betty. She found herself possessed, all at once, of an unaccountable shyness, and she could not lift her eyes from her plate. But at length she managed to steal a glance at Alfred. She failed to see any signs in his beaming face of the broken spirit of which her brother had hinted. He looked very well indeed. He was eating his dinner like any other healthy man, and talking and laughing with Lydia. This developed another unaccountable feeling in Betty, but this time it was resentment. Who ever heard of a man, who was as much in love as his letter said, looking well and enjoying himself with any other than the object of his affections? He had got over it, that was all. Just then Alfred turned and gazed full into Betty’s eyes. She lowered them instantly, but not so quickly that she failed to see in his a reproach.
“You are going to stay with us a while, are you not?” asked Betty of Isaac.
“No, Betts, not more than a day or so. Now, do not look so distressed. I do not go back as a prisoner. Myeerah and I can often come and visit you. But just now I want to get back and try to prevent the Delawares from urging Tarhe to war.”
“Isaac, I believe you are doing the wisest thing possible,” said Capt. Boggs. “And when I look at your bride-to-be I confess I do not see how you remained single so long.”
“That’s so, Captain,” answered Isaac. “But you see, I have never been satisfied or contented in captivity, I wanted nothing but to be free.”
“In other words, you were blind,” remarked Alfred, smiling at Isaac.
“Yes, Alfred, was. And I imagine had you been in my place you would have discovered the beauty and virtue of my Princess long before I did. Nevertheless, please do not favor Myeerah with so many admiring glances. She is not used to it. And that reminds me that I must expect trouble tomorrow. All you fellows will want to kiss her.”
“And Betty is going to be maid of honor. She, too, will have her troubles,” remarked Col. Zane.
“Think of that, Alfred,” said Isaac “A chance to kiss the two prettiest girls on the border—a chance of a lifetime.”
“It is customary, is it not?” said Alfred coolly.
“Yes, it’s a custom, if you can catch the girl,” answered Col. Zane.
Betty’s face flushed at Alfred’s cool assumption. How dared he? In spite of her will she could not resist the power that compelled her to look at him. As plainly as if it were written there, she saw in his steady blue eyes the light of a memory—the memory of a kiss. And Betty dropped her head, her face burning, her heart on fire with shame, and love, and regret.
“It’ll be a good chance for me, too,” said Wetzel. His remark instantly turned attention to himself.
“The idea is absurd,” said Isaac. “Why, Lew Wetzel, you could not be made to kiss any girl.”
“I would not be backward about it,” said Col. Zane.
“You have forgotten the fuss you made when the boys were kissing me,” said Mrs. Zane with a fine scorn.
“My dear,” said Col. Zane, in an aggrieved tone, “I did not make so much of a fuss, as you call it, until they had kissed you a great many times more than was reasonable.”
“Isaac, tell us one thing more,” said Capt. Boggs. “How did Myeerah learn of your capture by Cornplanter? Surely she could not have trailed you?”
“Will you tell us?” said Isaac to Myeerah.
“A bird sang it to me,” answered Myeerah.
“She will never tell, that is certain,” said Isaac. “And for that reason I believe Simon Girty got word to her that I was in the hands of Cornplanter. At the last moment when the Indians were lashing me to the stake Girty came to me and said he must have been too late.”
“Yes, Girty might have done that,” said Col. Zane. “I suppose, though he dared not interfere in behalf of poor Crawford.”
“Isaac, Can you get Myeerah to talk? I love to hear her speak,” said Betty, in an aside.
“Myeerah, will you sing a Huron love-song?” said Isaac “Or, if you do not wish to sing, tell a story. I want them to know how well you can speak our language.”
“What shall Myeerah say?” she said, shyly.
“Tell them the legend of the Standing Stone.”
“A beautiful Indian girl once dwelt in the pine forests,” began Myeerah, with her eyes cast down and her hand seeking Isaac’s. “Her voice was like rippling waters, her beauty like the rising sun. From near and from far came warriors to see the fair face of this maiden. She smiled on them all and they called her Smiling Moon. Now there lived on the Great Lake a Wyandot chief. He was young and bold. No