In the meantime, Marmaduke and his daughter were closeted for more than an hour, nor shall we invade the sanctuary of parental love by relating the conversation. When the curtain rises on the reader, the Judge is seen walking up and down the apartment, with a tender melancholy in his air, and his child reclining on a settee, with a flushed cheek, and her dark eyes seeming to float in crystals.
“It was a timely rescue! It was, indeed, a timely rescue, my child!” cried the Judge. “Then thou didst not desert thy friend, my noble Bess?”
“I believe I may as well take the credit of fortitude,” said Elizabeth, “though I much doubt if flight would have availed me anything, had I even courage to execute such an intention. But I thought not of the expedient.”
“Of what didst thou think, love? Where did thy thoughts dwell most at that fearful moment?”
“The beast! the beast!” cried Elizabeth, veiling her face with her hand. “Oh! I saw nothing, I thought of nothing but the beast. I tried to think of better things, but the horror was too glaring, the danger too much before my eyes.”
“Well, well, thou art safe, and we will converse no more on the unpleasant subject. I did not think such an animal yet remained in our forests; but they will stray far from their haunts when pressed by hunger, and——”
A loud knocking at the door of the apartment interrupted what he was about to utter, and he bid the applicant enter. The door was opened by Benjamin, who came in with a discontented air, as if he felt that he had a communication to make that would be out of season.
“Here is Squire Doolittle below, sir,” commenced the major-domo. “He has been standing off and on in the dooryard for the matter of a glass; and he has sum’mat on his mind that he wants to heave up, d’ye see; but I tells him, says I, man, would you be coming aboard with your complaints, said I, when the Judge has gotten his own child, as it were, out of the jaws of a lion? But damn the bit of manners has the fellow, any more than if he was one of them Guineas down in the kitchen there; and so as he was sheering nearer, every stretch he made towards the house, I could do no better than to let your honor know that the chap was in the offing.”
“He must have business of importance,” said Marmaduke; “something in relation to his office, most probably, as the court sits so shortly.”
“Ay, ay, you have it, sir,” cried Benjamin. “It’s sum’mat about a complaint that he has to make of the old Leatherstocking, who, to my judgment, is the better man of the two. It’s a very good sort of a man is this Master Bumppo, and he has a way with a spear, all the same as if he was brought up at the bow oar of the captain’s barge, or was born with a boat hook in his hand.”
“Against the Leatherstocking!” cried Elizabeth, rising from her reclining posture.
“Rest easy, my child; some trifle, I pledge you; I believe I am already acquainted with its import. Trust me, Bess, your champion shall be safe in my care. Show Mr. Doolittle in, Benjamin.”
Miss Temple appeared satisfied with this assurance, but fastened her dark eyes on the person of the architect, who profited by the permission and instantly made his appearance.
All the impatience of Hiram seemed to vanish the instant he entered the apartment. After saluting the Judge and his daughter, he took the chair to which Marmaduke pointed and sat for a minute, composing his straight black hair, with a gravity of demeanor that was intended to do honor to his official station. At length he said:
“It’s likely, from what I hear, that Miss Temple had a pretty narrow chance with the painters on the mountain.”
Marmaduke made a gentle inclination of his head by way of assent, but continued silent.
“I s’pose the law gives a bounty on the scalps,” continued Hiram, “in which case the Leatherstocking will make a good job on’t.”
“It shall be my care to see that he is rewarded,” returned the Judge.
“Yes, yes, I rather guess that nobody hereabouts doubts the Judge’s generosity. Does he know whether the Sheriff has fairly made up his mind to have a reading desk or a deacon’s pew under the pulpit?”
“I have not heard my cousin speak on that subject lately,” replied Marmaduke.
“I think it’s likely that we will have a pretty dull court on’t, from what I can gather. I hear that Jotham Riddel and the man who bought his betterments have agreed to leave their difference to men, and I don’t think there’ll be more than two civil cases in the calendar.”
“I am glad of it,” said the Judge; “nothing gives me more pain than to see my settlers wasting their time and substance in the unprofitable struggles of the law. I hope it may prove true, sir.”
“I rather guess ’twill be left out to men,” added Hiram, with an air equally balanced between doubt and assurance, but which Judge Temple understood to mean certainty; “I some think that I am appointed a referee in the case myself; Jotham as much as told me that he should take me. The defendant, I guess, means to take Captain Hollister, and we two have partly agreed on Squire Jones for the third man.”
“Are there any criminals to be tried?” asked Marmaduke.
“There’s the counterfeiters,” returned the magistrate; “as they were caught in the fact, I think it likely that they’ll be indicted, in which case it’s probable they’ll be tried.”
“Certainly, sir, I had forgotten those men. There are no more, I hope.”
“Why, there is a threaten to come forrad with an assault, that happened at the last Independence Day; but I’m not sartain that the law’ll take hold on’t. There was plaguey hard words passed, but whether they struck or not I haven’t heard. There’s some folks talk of a deer or two being killed out of season, over on the west side of the Patent, by some of the squatters on the ‘Fractions. ’ ”
“Let a complaint be made, by all means,” cried the Judge. “I am determined to see the law executed to the letter on all such depredators.”
“Why, yes, I thought the Judge was of that mind; I come partly on such a business myself.”
“You!” exclaimed Marmaduke, comprehending in an instant how completely he had been caught by the other’s cunning. “And what have you to say, sir?”
“I some think that Natty Bumppo has the carcass of a deer in his hut at this moment, and a considerable part of my business was to get a search warrant to examine.”
“You think, sir! Do you know that the law exacts an oath before I can issue such a precept? The habitation of a citizen is not to be idly invaded on light suspicion.”
“I rather think I can swear to it myself,” returned the immovable Hiram; “and Jotham is in the street, and as good as ready to come in and make oath to the same thing.”
“Then issue the warrant thyself; thou art a magistrate, Mr. Doolittle. Why trouble me with the matter?”
“Why, seeing it’s the first complaint under the law, and knowing the Judge set his heart on the thing, I thought it best that the authority to search should come from himself. Besides, as I’m much in the woods, among the timber, I don’t altogether like making an enemy of the Leatherstocking. Now the Judge has a weight in the county that puts him above fear.”
Miss Temple turned her face to the callous architect as she said:
“And what has any honest person to dread from so kind a man as Bumppo?”
“Why, it’s as easy, Miss, to pull a rifle trigger on a magistrate as on a painter. But if the Judge don’t conclude to issue the warrant, I must go home and make it out myself.”
“I have not refused your application, sir,” said Marmaduke, perceiving at once that his reputation for impartiality was at stake; “go into my office, Mr. Doolittle, where I will join you and sign the warrant.”
Judge Temple stopped the remonstrances which Elizabeth was about to utter, after Hiram had withdrawn, by laying his hand on her mouth and saying:
“It is more terrific in sound than frightful in reality, my child. I suppose that the Leatherstocking has shot a deer, for the season is nearly over, and you say that he was huntin
g with his dogs when he came so timely to your assistance. But it will be only to examine his cabin, and find the animal, when you can pay the penalty out of your own pocket, Bess. Nothing short of the twelve dollars and a half will satisfy this harpy, I perceive; and surely my reputation as a Judge is worth that trifle.”
Elizabeth was a good deal pacified with this assurance and suffered her father to leave her to fulfill his promise to Hiram.
When Marmaduke left his office after executing his disagreeable duty, he met Oliver Edwards, walking up the graveled walk in front of the mansion house, with great strides, and with a face agitated by feeling. On seeing Judge Temple, the youth turned aside, and with a warmth in his manner that was not often exhibited to Marmaduke, he cried:
“I congratulate you, sir; from the bottom of my soul I congratulate you, Judge Temple. Oh! it would have been too horrid to have recollected for a moment! I have just left the hut, where, after showing me his scalps, old Natty told me of the escape of the ladies, as a thing to be mentioned last. Indeed, indeed, sir, no words of mine can express half of what I have felt”—the youth paused a moment, as if suddenly recollecting that he was overstepping prescribed limits, and concluded with a good deal of embarrassment—“what I have felt at this danger to Miss—Grant, and—and your daughter, sir.”
But the heart of Marmaduke was too much softened to admit of his caviling at trifles, and without regarding the confusion of the other, he replied:
“I thank thee, thank thee, Oliver; as thou sayest, it is almost too horrid to be remembered. But come, let us hasten to Bess, for Louisa has already gone to the rectory.”
The young man sprang forward and, throwing open a door, barely permitted the Judge to precede him, when he was in the presence of Elizabeth in a moment.
The cold distance that often crossed the demeanor of the heiress in her intercourse with Edwards was now entirely banished, and two hours were passed by the party in the free, unembarrassed, and confiding manner of old and esteemed friends. Judge Temple had forgotten the suspicions engendered during his morning’s ride, and the youth and maiden conversed, laughed, and were sad by turns, as impulse directed. At length, Edwards, after repeating his intention to do so for the third time, left the mansion house to go to the rectory on a similar errand of friendship.
During this short period, a scene was passing at the hut that completely frustrated the benevolent intentions of Judge Temple in favor of the Leatherstocking, and at once destroyed the short-lived harmony between the youth and Marmaduke.
When Hiram Doolittle had obtained his search warrant, his first business was to procure a proper officer to see it executed. The Sheriff was absent, summoning in person the grand inquest for the county; the deputy, who resided in the village, was riding on the same errand, in a different part of the settlement; and the regular constable of the township had been selected for his station from motives of charity, being lame of a leg. Hiram intended to accompany the officer as a spectator, but he felt no very strong desire to bear the brunt of the battle. It was, however, Saturday, and the sun was already turning the shadows of the pines towards the east; on the morrow the conscientious magistrate could not engage in such an expedition at the peril of his soul; and long before Monday, the venison, and all vestiges of the death of the deer, might be secreted or destroyed. Happily, the lounging form of Billy Kirby met his eye, and Hiram, at all times fruitful in similar expedients, saw his way clear at once. Jotham, who was associated in the whole business, and who had left the mountain in consequence of a summons from his coadjutor, but who failed, equally with Hiram, in the unfortunate particular of nerve, was directed to summon the wood chopper to the dwelling of the magistrate.
When Billy appeared, he was very kindly invited to take the chair in which he had already seated himself, and was treated in all respects as if he were an equal.
“Judge Temple has set his heart on putting the deer law in force,” said Hiram, after the preliminary civilities were over, “and a complaint has been laid before him that a deer has been killed. He has issued a search warrant and sent for me to get somebody to execute it.”
Kirby, who had no idea of being excluded from the deliberative part of any affair in which he was engaged, drew up his bushy head in a reflecting attitude and, after musing a moment, replied by asking a few questions.
“The Sheriff is gone out of the way?”
“Not to be found.”
“And his deputy, too?”
“Both gone on the skirts of the Patent.”
“But I saw the constable hobbling about town an hour ago.”
“Yes, yes,” said Hiram with a coaxing smile and knowing nod, “but this business wants a man—not a cripple.”
“Why,” said Billy, laughing, “will the chap make fight?”
“He’s a little quarrelsome at times, and thinks he’s the best man in the country at rough-and-tumble.”
“I heard him brag once,” said Jotham, “that there wasn’t a man ’twixt the Mohawk Flats and the Pennsylvany line that was his match at a close hug.”
“Did you?” exclaimed Kirby, raising his huge frame in his seat, like a lion stretching in his lair. “I rather guess he never felt a Varmounter’s knuckles on his backbone. But who is the chap?”
“Why,” said Jotham, “it’s——”
“It’s ag’in law to tell,” interrupted Hiram, “unless you’ll qualify to sarve. You’d be the very man to take him, Bill; and I’ll make out a special deputation in a minute, when you will get the fees.”
“What’s the fees?” said Kirby, laying his large hand on the leaves of a statute book that Hiram had opened in order to give dignity to his office, which he turned over in his rough manner as if he were reflecting on a subject about which he had, in truth, already decided. “Will they pay a man for a broken head?”
“They’ll be something handsome,” said Hiram.
“Damn the fees,” said Billy, again laughing. “Does the fellow think he’s the best wrestler in the county, though? What’s his inches?”
“He’s taller than you be,” said Jotham, “and one of the biggest——”
Talkers, he was about to add, but the impatience of Kirby interrupted him. The wood chopper had nothing fierce or even brutal in his appearance; the character of his expression was that of good-natured vanity. It was evident he prided himself on the powers of the physical man, like all who have nothing better to boast of; and, stretching out his broad hand, with the palm downwards, he said, keeping his eyes fastened on his own bones and sinews:
“Come, give us a touch of the book. I’ll swear, and you’ll see that I’m a man to keep my oath.”
Hiram did not give the wood chopper time to change his mind, but the oath was administered without unnecessary delay. So soon as this preliminary was completed, the three worthies left the house and proceeded by the nearest road towards the hut. They had reached the bank of the lake, and were diverging from the route of the highway, before Kirby recollected that he was now entitled to the privilege of the initiated, and repeated his question as to the name of the offender.
“Which way, which way, Squire?” exclaimed the hardy wood chopper. “I thought it was to search a house that you wanted me, not the woods. There is nobody lives on this side of the lake, for six miles, unless you count the Leatherstocking and old John for settlers. Come, tell me the chap’s name, and I warrant me that I lead you to his clearing by a straighter path than this, for I know every sapling that grows within two miles of Templetown.”
“This is the way,” said Hiram, pointing forward and quickening his step, as if apprehensive that Kirby would desert, “and Bumppo is the man.”
Kirby stopped short and looked from one of his companions to the other in astonishment. He then burst into a loud laugh, and cried:
“Who? Leatherstocking! He may brag of his aim and his rifle, for he has the best of both, as I will own myself, for sin’ he shot the pigeon I knock under to him; but for a wrestle! Why, I woul
d take the creatur’ between my finger and thumb and tie him in a bowknot around my neck for a barcelony. The man is seventy and was never anything particular for strength.”
“He’s a deceiving man,” said Hiram, “like all the hunters; he is stronger than he seems; besides, he has his rifle.”
“That for his rifle!” cried Billy. “He’d no more hurt me with his rifle than he’d fly. He is a harmless creatur’, and I must say that I think he has as good right to kill deer as any man on the Patent. It’s his main support, and this is a free country, where a man is privileged to follow any calling he likes.”
“According to that doctrine,” said Jotham, “anybody may shoot a deer.”
“This is the man’s calling, I tell you,” returned Kirby, “and the law was never made for such as he.”
“The law was made for all,” observed Hiram, who began to think that the danger was likely to fall to his own share, notwithstanding his management; “and the law is particular in noticing parjury.”
“See here, Squire Doolittle,” said the reckless wood chopper; “I don’t care the valie of a beetle ring for you and your parjury, too. But as I have come so far, I’ll go down and have a talk with the old man and maybe we’ll fry a steak of the deer together.”
“Well, if you can get in peaceably, so much the better,” said the magistrate. “To my notion, strife is very unpopular; I prefer, at all times, clever conduct to an ugly temper.”
As the whole party moved at a great pace, they soon reached the hut, where Hiram thought it prudent to halt on the outside of the top of the fallen pine, which formed a chevaux-de-frise, to defend the approach to the fortress, on the side next the village. The delay was little relished by Kirby, who clapped his hands to his mouth and gave a loud halloo that brought the dogs out of their kennel and, almost at the same instant, the scantily covered head of Natty from the door.
“Lie down, old fool,” cried the hunter. “Do you think there’s more painters about you?”
The Pioneers Page 38