manner
the outer room was thoroughly but fruitlessly examined, when they
entered the sleeping apartment of Hutter. This part of the rude building
was better furnished than the rest of the structure, containing several
articles that had been especially devoted to the service of the deceased
wife of its owner, but as Judith had all the rest of the keys, it was
soon rummaged without bringing to light the particular key desired.

They now entered the bed room of the daughters. Chingachgook was
immediately struck with the contrast between the articles and the
arrangement of that side of the room that might be called Judith's, and
that which more properly belonged to Hetty. A slight exclamation escaped
him, and pointing in each direction he alluded to the fact in a low
voice, speaking to his friend in the Delaware tongue.

"'Tis as you think, Sarpent," answered Deerslayer, whose remarks we
always translate into English, preserving as much as possible of the
peculiar phraseology and manner of the man, "'Tis just so, as any one
may see, and 'tis all founded in natur'. One sister loves finery, some
say overmuch; while t'other is as meek and lowly as God ever created
goodness and truth. Yet, after all, I dare say that Judith has her
vartues, and Hetty has her failin's."

"And the 'Feeble-Mind' has seen the chist opened?" inquired
Chingachgook, with curiosity in his glance.

"Sartain; that much I've heard from her own lips; and, for that matter,
so have you. It seems her father doesn't misgive her discretion, though
he does that of his eldest darter."

"Then the key is hid only from the Wild Rose?" for so Chingachgook
had begun gallantly to term Judith, in his private discourse with his
friend.

"That's it! That's just it! One he trusts, and the other he doesn't.
There's red and white in that, Sarpent, all tribes and nations agreeing
in trusting some, and refusing to trust other some. It depends on
character and judgment."

"Where could a key be put, so little likely to be found by the Wild
Rose, as among coarse clothes?"

Deerslayer started, and turning to his friend with admiration expressed
in every lineament of his face, he fairly laughed, in his silent but
hearty manner, at the ingenuity and readiness of the conjecture.

"Your name's well bestowed, Sarpent--yes, 'tis well bestowed! Sure
enough, where would a lover of finery be so little likely to s'arch, as
among garments as coarse and onseemly as these of poor Het