Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy (Complete) eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 624 pages of information about Wacousta .

“Impossible, Charles,” observed Captain Blessington; “Frederick was in the midst of his guard.  How, therefore, could he be conveyed away without the alarm being given?  Numbers only could have succeeded in so desperate an enterprise; and yet there is no evidence, or even suspicion, of more than one individual having been here.”

“It is a singular affair altogether,” returned Sir Everard, musingly.  “Of two things, however, I am satisfied.  The first is, that the stranger, whoever he may be, and if he really has been here, is no Indian; the second, that he is personally known to the governor, who has been, or I mistake much, more alarmed at his individual presence than if Ponteac and his whole band had suddenly broken in upon us.  Did you remark his emotion, when I dwelt on the peculiar character of personal triumph and revenge which the cry of the lurking villain outside seemed to express? and did you notice the eagerness with which he enquired if I thought I had hit him?  Depend upon it, there is more in all this than is dreamt of in our philosophy.”

“And it was your undisguised perception of that emotion,” remarked Captain Blessington, “that drew down his severity upon your own head.  It was, however, too palpable not to be noticed by all; and I dare say conjecture is as busily and as vaguely at work among our companions as it is with us.  The clue to the mystery, in a great degree, now dwells with Frank Halloway; and to him we must look for its elucidation.  His disclosure will be one, I apprehend, full of ignominy to himself, but of the highest interest and importance to us all.  And yet I know not how to believe the man the traitor he appears.”

“Did you remark that last harrowing exclamation of his wife?” observed Charles de Haldimar, in a tone of unspeakable melancholy.  “How fearfully prophetic it sounded in my ears.  I know not how it is,” he pursued, “but I wish I had not heard those sounds; for since that moment I have had a sad strange presentiment of evil at my heart.  Heaven grant my poor brother may make his appearance, as I still trust he will, at the hour Halloway seems to expect, for if not, the latter most assuredly dies.  I know my father well; and, if convicted by a court martial, no human power can alter the destiny that awaits Frank Halloway.”

“Rally, my dear Charles, rally,” said Sir Everard, affecting a confidence he did not feel himself; “indulge not in these idle and superstitious fancies.  I pity Halloway from my soul, and feel the deepest interest in his pretty and unhappy wife; but that is no reason why one should attach importance to the incoherent expressions wrung from her in the agony of grief.”

“It is kind of you, Valletort, to endeavour to cheer my spirits, when, if the truth were confessed, you acknowledge the influence of the same feelings.  I thank you for the attempt, but time alone can show how far I shall have reason, or otherwise, to lament the occurrences of this night.”

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Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy (Complete) from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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