It’s Jim come back to you.”
A soft flush stained her white face. She slipped her arm tenderly around his neck, and held her cheek close to his.
“Jim,” she murmured.
“Nellie, don’t you know me?” asked Mr. Wells, trembling, excited. This was the first word she had spoken in four days.
“Uncle!” she exclaimed, suddenly loosening her hold on Jim, and sitting up in bed, then she gazed wildly at the others.
“Was it all a horrible dream?”
Mr. Wells took her hand soothingly, but he did not attempt to answer her question. He looked helplessly at Heckewelder, but that missionary was intently studying the expression on Nell’s face.
“Part of it was a dream,” he answered,impressively.
“Then that horrible man did take us away?”
“Yes.”
“Oh-h! but we’re free now? This is my room. Oh, tell me?”
“Yes, Nellie, you’re safe at home now.”
“Tell—tell me,” she cried, shudderingly, as she leaned close to Jim and raised a white, imploring face to his. “Where is Kate?—Oh! Jim—say, say she wasn’t left with Girty?”
“Kate is dead,” answered Jim, quickly. He could not endure the horror in her eyes. He deliberately intended to lie, as had Heckewelder.
It was as if the tension of Nell’s nerves was suddenly relaxed. The relief from her worst fear was so great that her mind took in only the one impression. Then, presently, a choking cry escaped her, to be followed by a paroxysm of sobs.
CHAPTER XX.
Early on the following day Heckewelder, astride his horse, appeared at the door of Edwards’ cabin.
“How is George?” he inquired of Dave, when the latter had opened the door.
“He had a bad night, but is sleeping now. I think he’ll be all right after a time,” answered Dave.
“That’s well. Nevertheless keep a watch on him for a few days.”
“I’ll do so.”
“Dave, I leave matters here to your good judgment. I’m off to Goshocking to join Zeisberger. Affairs there demand our immediate attention, and we must make haste.”
“How long do you intend to be absent?”
“A few days; possibly a week. In case of any unusual disturbance among the Indians, the appearance of Pipe and his tribe, or any of the opposing factions, send a fleet runner at once to warn me. Most of my fears have been allayed by Wingenund’s attitude toward us. His freeing Jim in face of the opposition of his chiefs is a sure sign of friendliness. More than once I have suspected that he was interested in Christianity. His daughter, Whispering Winds, exhibited the same intense fervor in religion as has been manifested by all our converts. It may be that we have not appealed in vain to Wingenund and his daughter; but their high position in the Delaware tribe makes it impolitic for them to reveal a change of heart. If we could win over those two we’d have every chance to convert the whole tribe. Well, as it is we must be thankful for Wingenund’s friendship. We have two powerful allies now. Tarhe, the Wyandot chieftain, remains neutral, to be sure, but that’s almost as helpful as his friendship.”
“I, too, take a hopeful view of the situation,” replied Edwards.
“We’ll trust in Providence, and do our best,” said Heckewelder, as he turned his horse. “Good-by.”
“Godspeed!” called Edwards, as his chief rode away.
The missionary resumed his work of getting breakfast. He remained in doors all that day, except for the few moments when he ran over to Mr. Wells’ cabin to inquire regarding Nell’s condition. He was relieved to learn she was so much better that she had declared her intention of moving about the house. Dave kept a close watch on Young. He, himself, was suffering from the same blow which had prostrated his friend, but his physical strength and fortitude were such that he did not weaken. He was overjoyed to see that George rallied, and showed no further indications of breaking down.
True it was, perhaps, that Heckewelder’s earnest prayer on behalf of the converted Indians had sunk deeply into George’s heart and thus kept it from breaking. No stronger plea could have been made than the allusion to those gentle, dependent Christians. No one but a missionary could realize the sweetness, the simplicity, the faith, the eager hope for a good, true life which had been implanted in the hearts of these Indians. To bear it in mind, to think of what he, as a missionary and teacher, was to them, relieved him of half his burden, and for strength to bear the remainder he went to God. For all worry there is a sovereign cure, for all suffering there is a healing balm; it is religious faith. Happiness had suddenly flashed with a meteor-like radiance into Young’s life only to be snuffed out like a candle in a windy gloom, but his work, his duty remained. So in his trial he learned the necessity of resignation. He chaffed no more at the mysterious, seemingly brutal methods of nature; he questioned no more. He wondered no more at the apparent indifference of Providence. He had one hope, which was to be true to his faith, and teach it to the end.
Nell mastered her grief by an astonishing reserve of strength. Undoubtedly it was that marvelously merciful power which enables a person, for the love of others, to bear up under a cross, or even to fight death himself. As Young had his bright-eyed Indian boys and girls, who had learned Christianity from him, and whose future depended on him, so Nell had her aged and weakening uncle to care for and cherish.
Jim’s attentions to her before the deep affliction had not been slight, but now they were so marked as to be unmistakable. In some way Jim seemed changed since he had returned from the Delaware encampment. Although he went back to the work with his old aggressiveness, he was not nearly so successful as he had been before. Whether or not this was his fault, he took his failure deeply to heart. There was that in his tenderness which caused Nell to regard him, in one sense, as she did her uncle. Jim, too, leaned upon her, and she accepted his devotion where once she had repelled it. She had unconsciously betrayed a great deal when she had turned so tenderly to him in the first moments after her recognition, and he remembered it. He did not speak of love to her; he let a thousand little acts of kindness, a constant thoughtfulness of her plead his cause.
The days succeeding Heckewelder’s departure were remarkable for several reasons. Although the weather was enticing, the number of visiting Indians gradually decreased. Not a runner from any tribe came into the village, and finally the day dawned when not a single Indian from the outlying towns was present to hear the preaching.
Jim spoke, as usual. After several days had passed and none but converted Indians made up the congregation, the young man began to be uneasy in mind.
Young and Edwards were unable to account for the unusual absence from worship, yet they did not see in it anything to cause especial concern. Often there had been days without visitation to the Village of Peace.
Finally Jim went to consult Glickhican. He found the Delaware at work in the potato patch. The old Indian dropped his hoe and bowed to the missionary. A reverential and stately courtesy always characterized the attitude of the Indians toward the young white father.
“Glickhican, can you tell me why no Indians have come
