“Friend,” said Nathan, cutting him short, “it is on thee doings, more than on them of any others, that the hopes of the maid Edith—­”

“Call her anngelliferous madam,” said Ralph, “for I can’t stand any feller being familiar with her,—­I can’t, no how.”

“Well, friend,” said Nathan, “it is on thee doings that her escaping the Shawnee villains this night depends.  If thee does well, it may be we shall both discover and carry her safe away from captivation:  if thee acts as a foolish imprudent man,—­and, truly, friend, I have my fears of thee,—­thee will both fail to help her theeself, and prevent others doing it, who, it may be, has the power.”

“Old boy,” said the captain of horse-thieves, with something like a gulp of emotion, “you ar’n’t respectable to a feller’s feelings.  But I’ll stand anything from you, ’cause how, you down’d my house in a fa’r tussle, and you helped the captain thar that helped me out of trouble.  If you’re atter ginning me a bit of wisdom, and all on madam’s account, I’m jist the gentleman that h’ars you.  State the case, and h’yar stands I confawmable.”

“Well, friend,” said Nathan, “what I have to advise thee is, that thee stops where thee is, leaving the rest of this matter entirely to me; seeing that, as thee knows nothing of this Injun village, excepting the horse-pound thereof, it will not be safe for thee to enter.  Do thee rest where thee is, and I will spy out the place of the maiden’s concealing.”

“Old feller,” said Captain Ralph, “you won’t pretend you knows more of the place than me?  You don’t go for to say you ever stole a hoss here?”

“Do thee be content, friend,” said Nathan, “to know there is not a cabin in all the village that is unbeknown to me:  do thee be content with that.  Thee must not go near the pound, until thee knows for certain the maid thee calls madam can be saved.  Truly, friend, it may be we cannot help her to-night, but may do so to-morrow night.”

“I see what you’re up to,” said Ralph:  “and thar’s no denying it war a natteral piece of nonsense to steal a hoss, afo’ madam war ready to ride him.  And so, old Nathan, if it ar’ your qualified opinion I’ll sarve madam better by snuggin’ under a log, than by snuffin’ atter her among the cabins, I’m jist the gentleman to knock under, accordin’ to reason.”

This declaration seemed greatly to relieve the uneasiness of Nathan, who recommending him to be as good as his word, and ensconce among some logs lying near the path, awaiting the event of his own visit to the heart of the village, immediately took his leave; though not with the timid and skulking step of a spy.  Wrapping his blanket about his shoulders, and assuming the gait of a savage, he stalked boldly forwards; jingling under his mantle the bundle of hawk’s-bells which he carried in his hand, as if actually to invite the observation of such barbarians as were yet moving through the village.