ets out of my mout' so much as a hint that the
captain's dead and gone from us, for ever and ever, amen! Ye may send
me in, for ye 're corporals, and serjeants, and the likes of yees, and
I'll obey as a souldier, seem' that he would have wished as much
himself, had the breat' staid in his body, which it has not, on account
of its l'aving his sowl on 'arth, and departing with his corporeal part
for the mansions of happiness, the Blessed Mary have mercy on him,
whether here or _there_--but the captain was not the man to wish a
fait'ful follower to afflict his own wife; and so I'll have not'in' to
do with such a message, at all at all."

"Nick go"--said the Indian, calmly--"Used to carry message--carry him
for cap'in, once more."

"Well, Nick, you may do it certainly, if so disposed," answered Joyce,
who would have accepted the services of a Chinese rather than undertake
the office in person. "You will remember and speak to the ladies
gently, and not break the news too suddenly."

"Yes--squaw soft heart--Nick know--had moder--had wife, once--had
darter."

"Very well; this will be an advantage, men, as Nick is the only married
man among us; and married men should best understand dealing with
females."

Joyce then held a private communication with the Tuscarora, that lasted
some five or six minutes, when the last leaped nimbly into the bed of
the stream, and was soon concealed by the bushes of one of its reaches.

Chapter XXVI.

"Heart leaps to heart--the sacred flood
That warms us is the same;
That good old man--his honest blood
Alike we fondly claim."

Sprague.

Although Nick commenced his progress with so much seeming zeal and
activity, his speed abated, the moment he found himself beyond the
sight of those he had left in the woods. Before he reached the foot of
the cliff, his trot had degenerated to a walk; and when he actually
found he was at its base, he seated himself on a stone, apparently to
reflect on the course he ought to pursue.

The countenance of the Tuscarora expressed a variety of emotions while
he thus remained stationary. At first, it was fierce, savage, exulting;
then it became gentler, soft, perhaps repentant. He drew his knife from
its buckskin sheath, and eyed the blade with a gaze expressive of
uneasiness. Perceiving that a clot of blood had collected at the
junction with the handle, it was carefully removed by the use of water.
His look next passed over his whole pers