Chapter 29

Playful she turn'd that he might see
The passing smile her cheek put on;
But when she marked how mournfully
His eyes met hers, that smile was gone.
_Lalla Rookh._

The occurrences of the last few days had been too exciting, and had
made too many demands on the fortitude of our heroine, to leave
her in the helplessness of grief. She mourned for her father,
and she occasionally shuddered as she recalled the sudden death
of Jennie, and all the horrible scenes she had witnessed; but on
the whole she had aroused herself, and was no longer in the deep
depression which usually accompanies grief. Perhaps the overwhelming,
almost stupefying sorrow that crushed poor June, and left her for
nearly twenty-four hours in a state of stupor, assisted Mabel in
conquering her own feelings, for she had felt called on to administer
consolation to the young Indian woman. This she had done in the
quiet, soothing, insinuating way in which her sex usually exerts
its influence on such occasions.

The morning of the third day was set for that on which the _Scud_
was to sail. Jasper had made all his preparations; the different
effects were embarked, and Mabel had taken leave of June, a painful
and affectionate parting. In a word, all was ready, and every soul
had left the island but the Indian woman, Pathfinder, Jasper, and
our heroine. The former had gone into a thicket to weep, and the
three last were approaching the spot where three canoes lay, one of
which was the property of June, and the other two were in waiting
to carry the others off to the _Scud_. Pathfinder led the way,
but, when he drew near the shore, instead of taking the direction
to the boats, he motioned to his companions to follow, and proceeded
to a fallen tree which lay on the margin of the glade and out
of view of those in the cutter. Seating himself on the trunk, he
signed to Mabel to take her place on one side of him and to Jasper
to occupy the other.

"Sit down here Mabel; sit down there, Eau-douce," he commenced,
as soon as he had taken his own seat. "I've something that lies
heavy on my mind, and now is the time to take it off, if it's ever
to be done. Sit down, Mabel, and let me lighten my heart, if not
my conscience, while I've the strength to do it."

The pause that succeeded lasted two or three minutes, and both the
young people wondered what was to come next; the idea that Pathfinder
could have any weight on his conscience seeming equally improbable
to each.

"Mabel," our hero at length resumed, "we must talk plainly to each
other afore we join your uncle in the cutter, where the Saltwater
has slept every night since the last rally, for he says it's the
only place in which