Prev | Current Page 124 | Next

Richardson, John, 1796-1852

"Hardscrabble; or, the fall of Chicago. a tale of Indian warfare"

But have you heard nothing since I left you.
Have you seen no one?"
"I have heard nothing--seen not a soul from without,"
she answered, as he tenderly pressed the hand he had
taken--"But, Ronayne," she pursued, with melancholy
gravity--"a sudden light dawns upon me--my heart tells
me that some misfortune or other has happened, or is
about to happen--you say you would speak about my father.
You are the bearer of ill-news in regard to him. Yes, I
know it is so; tell me, Harry," and she looked imploringly
up to him, "am I not right?--my father has been attacked
by Indians, and he has fallen. Oh! you do not deny it!"
"Nay, dearest Maria, I know nothing of the kind, although
I will not conceal from you that there is danger--you
have guessed correctly as to the Indians having been at
the farm, but little certain is known as to the result
of their visit. That half idiot Ephraim Giles, has come
in with some wild story, but I daresay he exaggerates."
Miss Heywood shook her head doubtingly. "You deceive me,
Ronayne--with the best intention, but still you deceive
me.


Pages:
112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136