Audrey

"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.