"Here I am, friend Tokeah!" cried he, with a forced smile, stretching out his hand to the Miko, who was seated upon his couch, calm, and with his head bowed upon his breast. "I'm a man of my word, you see. Arrived only last night in the bay; but the devil take me if I could keep quiet: started off again, and rowed all night and all day; and here you see me, old friend, as hungry as a sea-lawyer, and as dry as a dolphin." He spoke in English, fluently enough, but with a strong French accent.
Tokeah knocked with his finger upon the table, and Canondah came out of her room.
"Canondah!" cried the man, stepping forward with an air of gallantry to salute her. The young girl avoided his embrace, and with the single word, "Welcome!" slipped out at the door. Our guest appeared thunderstruck.
"What does this mean, friend Miko?" cried he. "Am I in disgrace? Should really be sorry for it. As I came across the meadow, your people made all sail from me, as if I had been a privateer; and now you are as cold as a nor'-wester, and your daughter as stiff as a frozen cable. Apropos--you have had a visit. The young Englishman, I see, has been amongst you."
As he spoke these last words, the stranger cast a lowering glance at the old man.
"Of whom does my brother speak?" said the chief.
"Of a prisoner--a young fellow who escaped whilst I was at sea."
"My young brother has been here and is gone," replied Tokeah, dryly.
"Gone!" repeated the other; "you probably did not know that he had escaped from me. But it matters not," added he, indifferently.
"The Miko knew," replied the old man in a firm tone, "that his young brother had escaped from the chief of the Salt Lake. My brother ought not to have made him prisoner."
"What! would not the Miko of the Oconees seize the Yankee who came as a spy into his wigwam?"
"And was my young brother a Yankee?" inquired Tokeah, with a penetrating glance.
"My brother," interrupted the Miko, "has too many enemies--the Yankees, and the warriors of the great father of the Canadas."
The man bit his lips. "Pshaw!" said he; "you have the Americans on the wrong side of your heart, and I have both. That's all the difference."
"The Miko," said the old chief, "lifts the war-hatchet to protect his people against the palefaces, and to avenge his slain brethren. But my brother has lifted the tomahawk against every one, and, like a thief, steals women and children."