"Jasper is a worthy lad, Mabel; ay, and a comely," returned the guileless guide, looking earnestly at the girl, as if he distrusted her judgment in speaking slightingly of his friend.
"Were I only half as comely as Jasper Western, my misgivings in this affair would not have been so great, and they might not have been so true."
"We will not talk of Jasper Western," repeated Mabel, the color mounting to her temples; "he may be good enough in a gale, or on the lake, but he is not good enough to talk of here."
"I fear me, Mabel, he is better than the man who is likely to be your husband, though the Sergeant says that never can take place.
But the Sergeant was wrong once, and he may be wrong twice."
"And who is likely to be my husband, Pathfinder!
This is scarcely less strange than what has just passed between us."
"I know it is nat'ral for like to seek like, and for them that have consorted much with officers' ladies to wish to be officers' ladies themselves.
But, Mabel; I may speak plainly to you, I know; and I hope my words will not give you pain; for, now I understand what it is to be disappointed in such feelings, I wouldn't wish to cause even a Mingo sorrow on this head.
But happiness is not always to be found in a marquee, any more than in a tent; and though the officers' quarters may look more tempting than the rest of the barracks, there is often great misery between husband and wife inside of their doors."
"I do not doubt it in the least, Pathfinder; and, did it rest with me to decide, I would sooner follow you to some cabin in the woods, and share your fortune, whether it might be better or worse, than go inside the door of any officer I know, with an intention of remaining there as its master's wife."
"Mabel, this is not what Lundie hopes, or Lundie thinks."
"And what care I for Lundie?
He is major of the 55th, and may command his men to wheel and march about as he pleases; but he cannot compel me to wed the greatest or the meanest of his mess.
Besides, what can you know of Lundie's wishes on such a subject?"
"From Lundie's own mouth. The Sergeant had told him that he wished me for a son-in-law; and the Major, being an old and a true friend, conversed with me on the subject.
He put it to me plainly, whether it would not be more ginerous in me to let an officer succeed, than to strive to make you share a hunter's fortune.
I owned the truth, I did; and that was, that I thought it might; but when he told me that the Quartermaster would be his choice, I would not abide by the conditions.
No, no, Mabel; I know Davy Muir well, and though he may make you a lady, be can never make you a happy woman, or himself a gentleman."
"My father has been very wrong if he has said or done aught to cause you sorrow, Pathfinder; and so great is my respect for you, so sincere my friendship, that were it not for one -- I mean that no person need fear Lieutenant Muir's influence with me -- I would rather remain as I am to my dying day than become a lady at the cost of being his wife."
"I do not think you would say that which you do not feel, Mabel," returned Pathfinder earnestly.
"Not at such a moment, on such a subject, and least of all to you.
No; Lieutenant Muir may find wives where he can -- my name shall never be on his catalogue."
"Thank you, thank you for that, Mabel, for, though there is no longer any hope for me, I could never be happy were you to take to the Quartermaster.
I feared the commission might count for something, I did; and I know the man.
It is not jealousy that makes me speak in this manner, but truth, for I know the man.
Now, were you to fancy a desarving youth, one like Jasper Western, for instance -- "
"Why always mention Jasper Eau-douce, Pathfinder? he can have no concern with our friendship; let us talk of yourself, and of the manner in which you intend to pass the winter."
"Ah's me! -- I'm little worth at the best, Mabel, unless it may be on a trail or with the rifle; and less worth now that I have discovered the Sergeant's mistake.
There is no need, therefore, of talking of me.
It has been very pleasant to me to be near you so long, and even to fancy that the Sergeant was right; but that is all over now.
I shall go down the lake with Jasper, and then there will be business to occupy us, and that will keep useless thoughts out of the mind."
"And you will forget this -- forget me -- no, not forget me, either, Pathfinder; but you will resume your old pursuits, and cease to think a girl of sufficient importance to disturb your peace?"
"I never knowed it afore, Mabel; but girls are of more account in this life than I could have believed.
Now, afore I knowed you, the new-born babe did not sleep more sweetly than I used; my head was no sooner on the root, or the stone, or mayhap on the skin, than all was lost to the senses, unless it might be to go over in the night the business of the day in a dream like; and there I lay till the moment came to be stirring, and the swallows were not more certain to be on the wing with the light, than I to be afoot at the moment I wished to be.
All this seemed a gift, and might be calculated on even in the midst of a Mingo camp; for I've been outlying in my time, in the very villages of the vagabonds."
"And all this will return to you, Pathfinder, for one so upright and sincere will never waste his happiness on a mere fancy.
You will dream again of your hunts, of the deer you have slain, and of the beaver you have taken."
"Ah's me, Mabel, I wish never to dream again!
Before we met, I had a sort of pleasure in following up the hounds, in fancy, as it might be; and even in striking a trail of the Iroquois -- nay, I've been in skrimmages aud ambushments, in thought like, and found satisfaction in it, according to my gifts; but all those things have lost their charms since I've made acquaintance with you.
Now, I think no longer of anything rude in my dreams; but the very last night we stayed in the garrison I imagined I had a cabin in a grove of sugar maples, and at the root of every tree was a Mabel Dunham, while the birds among the branches sang ballads instead of the notes that natur' gave, and even the deer stopped to listen.
I tried to shoot a fa'n, but Killdeer missed fire, and the creatur' laughed in my face, as pleasantly as a young girl laughs in her merriment, and then it bounded away, looking back as if expecting me to follow."
"No more of this, Pathfinder; we'll talk no more of these things," said Mabel, dashing the tears from her eyes: for the simple, earnest manner in which this hardy woodsman betrayed the deep hold she had taken of his feelings nearly proved too much for her own generous heart.
"Now, let us look for my father; he cannot be distant, as I heard his gun quite near."
"The Sergeant was wrong -- yes, he was wrong, and it's of no avail to attempt to make the dove consort with the wolf."
"Here comes my dear father," interrupted Mabel.
"Let us look cheerful and happy, Pathfinder, as such good friends ought to look, and keep each other's secrets."
A pause succeeded; the Sergeant's foot was heard crushing the dried twigs hard by, and then his form appeared shoving aside the bushes of a copse just near.
As he issued into the open ground, the old soldier scrutinized his daughter and her companion, and speaking good-naturedly, he said,
"Mabel, child, you are young aud light of foot --look for a bird that I've shot that fell just beyond the thicket of young hemlocks on the shore; and, as Jasper is showing signs of an intention of getting under way, you need not take the trouble to clamber up this hill again, but we will meet you on the beach in a few minutes."