“I—”
“I would speak, sir, and not listen.
There is something in this affair that I do not comprehend; but tell the Leather-Stocking he has friends as well as judges in us.
Do not let the old man experience unnecessary uneasiness at this rupture.
It is impossible that you could increase his claims here; neither shall they be diminished by any thing you have said.
Mr. Edwards, I wish you happiness, and warmer friends.”
The youth would have spoken, but she vanished from the door so rapidly, that when he reached the hall her form was nowhere to be seen.
He paused a moment, in stupor, and then, rushing from the house, instead of following Marmaduke in his “office,” he took his way directly for the cabin of the hunters.
CHAPTER XXXII.
“Who measured earth, described the starry spheres,
And traced the long records of lunar years.”
—Pope.
Richard did not return from the exercise of his official duties until late in the evening of the following day.
It had been one portion of his business to superintend the arrest of part of a gang of counterfeiters, that had, even at that early period, buried themselves in the woods, to manufacture their base coin, which they afterward circulated from one end of the Union to the other.
The expedition had been completely successful, and about midnight the sheriff entered the village, at the head of a posse of deputies and constables, in the centre of whom rode, pinioned, four of the malefactors.
At the gate of the mansion-house they separated, Mr. Jones directing his assist ants to proceed with their charge to the county jail, while he pursued his own way up the gravel walk, with the kind of self-satisfaction that a man of his organization would feel, who had really for once done a very clever thing.
“Holla!
Aggy!” shouted the sheriff, when he reached the door; “where are you, you black dog? will you keep me here in the dark all night?
Holla! Aggy! Brave! Brave! hoy, hoy—where have you got to, Brave?
Off his watch!
Everybody is asleep but myself!
Poor I must keep my eyes open, that others may sleep in safety. Brave!
Brave!
Well, I will say this for the dog, lazy as he’s grown, that it is the first time I ever knew him to let any one come to the door after dark, without having a smell to know whether it was an honest man or not.
He could tell by his nose, almost as well as I could myself by looking at them. Holla! you Agamemnon! where are you?
Oh! here comes the dog at last.”
By this time the sheriff had dismounted, and observed a form, which he supposed to be that of Brave, slowly creeping out of the kennel; when, to his astonishment, it reared itself on two legs instead of four, and he was able to distinguish, by the starlight, the curly head and dark visage of the negro.
“Ha! what the devil are you doing there, you black rascal?” he cried.
“Is it not hot enough for your Guinea blood in the house this warm night, but you must drive out the poor dog, and sleep in his straw?”
By this time the boy was quite awake, and, with a blubbering whine, he attempted to reply to his master.
“Oh! masser Richard! masser Richard! such a ting! such a ting!
I nebber tink a could ‘appen! neber tink he die! Oh, Lor-a-gor! ain’t bury—keep ‘em till masser Richard get back—got a grabe dug—” Here the feelings of the negro completely got the mastery, and, instead of making any intelligible explanation of the causes of his grief, he blubbered aloud.
“Eh! what! buried! grave! dead!” exclaimed Richard, with a tremor in his voice; “nothing serious?
Nothing has happened to Benjamin, I hope?
I know he has been bilious, but I gave him—”
“Oh, worser ‘an dat! worser ‘an dat!” sobbed the negro.
“Oh! de Lor! Miss ‘Lizzy an’ Miss Grant—walk—mountain—poor Bravy ‘—kill a lady—painter—-Oh, Lor, Lor!—Natty Bumppo—tare he troat open—come a see, masser Richard—here he be—here he be.”
As all this was perfectly inexplicable to the sheriff, he was very glad to wait patiently until the black brought a lantern from the kitchen, when he followed Aggy to the kennel, where he beheld poor Brave, indeed, lying in his blood, stiff and cold, but decently covered with the great coat of the negro.
He was on the point of demanding an explanation; but the grief of the black, who had fallen asleep on his voluntary watch, having burst out afresh on his waking, utterly disqualified the lad from giving one.
Luckily, at this moment the principal door of the house opened, and the coarse features of Benjamin were thrust over the threshold, with a candle elevated above them, shedding its dim rays around in such a manner as to exhibit the lights and shadows of his countenance.
Richard threw his bridle to the black, and, bidding him look to the horse, he entered the hall.
“What is the meaning of the dead dog?” he cried.
“Where is Miss Temple?”
Benjamin made one of his square gestures, with the thumb of his left hand pointing over his right shoulder, as he answered:
“Turned in.”
“Judge Temple—where is he?”
“In his berth.”
“But explain; why is Brave dead? and what is the cause of Aggy’s grief?”
“Why, it’s all down, squire,” said Benjamin, pointing to a slate that lay on the table, by the side of a mug of toddy, a short pipe in which the tobacco was yet burning, and a prayer-book.
Among the other pursuits of Richard, he had a passion to keep a register of all passing events; and his diary, which was written in the manner of a journal, or log, book, embraced not only such circumstances as affected himself, but observations on the weather, and all the occurrences of the family, and frequently of the village.