"I would not have the practice universal," said the Colonel coolly, "but
'twould go far toward remedying loss of scalps in this world, and of
infidel souls hereafter. Your sprightly lover is a most prevailing
missionary. But here is our Huguenot-Monacan."
MacLean, very wet and muddy, with one hand wrapped in a blood-stained rag,
came in first. "We found them hidden in the bushes at the turn of the
road," he said hastily. "The schoolmaster was more peaceably inclined than
any Quaker, but Hugon fought like the wolf that he is. Can't you hang him
out of hand, Haward? Give me a land where the chief does justice while the
king looks the other way!" He turned and beckoned. "Bring them in,
Saunderson."
There was no discomposure in the schoolmaster's dress, and as little in
his face or manner. He bowed to the two gentlemen, then shambled across to
the fire, and as best he could held out his bound hands to the grateful
blaze. "May I ask, sir," he said, in his lifeless voice, "why it is that
this youth and I, resting in all peace and quietness beside a public road,
should be set upon by your servants, overpowered, bound, and haled to your
house as to a judgment bar?"
Haward, to whom this speech was addressed, gave it no attention. His gaze
was upon Hugon, who in his turn glared at him alone. Haward had a subtle
power of forcing and fixing the attention of a company; in crowded rooms,
without undue utterance or moving from his place, he was apt to achieve
the centre of the stage, the head of the table. Now, the half-breed, by
very virtue of the passion which, false to his Indian blood, shook him
like a leaf, of a rage which overmastered and transformed, reached at a
bound the Englishman's plane of distinction. His great wig, of a fashion
years gone by, was pulled grotesquely aside, showing the high forehead and
shaven crown beneath; his laced coat and tawdry waistcoat and ruffled
shirt were torn and foul with mud and mould, but the man himself made to
be forgotten the absurdity of his trappings. Gone, for him, were his
captors, his accomplice, the spectator in gold and russet; to Haward,
also, sitting very cold, very quiet, with narrowed eyes, they were gone.
He was angered, and in the mood to give rein after his own fashion to that
anger. MacLean and the master of Westover, the overseer and the
schoolmaster, were forgotten, and he and Hugon met alone as they might
have met in the forest. Between them, and without a spoken word, the two
made this fact to be recognized by the other occupants of the
drawing-room. Colonel Byrd, who had been standing with his hand upon the
table, moved backward until he joined MacLean beside the closed door:
Saunderson drew near to the schoolmaster: and the centre of the room was
left to the would-be murderer and the victim that had escaped him.