27 Old Faces in New Guise

We reached the house, entered, and our names being announced, we found in truth a brilliant company present, glittering with many of the gayest fashions of the East, golden epaulets, and laces and shawls of India, and gold and silver shoe-buckles, and other such adornments, to which my eyes had been a stranger for years. Moreover, the wooden walls of the house contained much mahogany furniture dragged painfully over the mountains from New York or Pennsylvania.

I noted my reception with curiosity and a prepared stoicism. It was of a mixed nature, some showing warmth and others holding aloof, but none dared to offer insult, since General Wayne, who was the first to-greet me, had so evidently constituted himself my champion, while Major Carew came forward to salute me with even greater warmth. Jasper himself did not risk more than a sneer. He had regained his position in the army through powerful influences, and now, ranking as a major, had come West again with Wayne. I wondered why he ventured a second time upon such dangerous ground; but here he was, in a most resplendent uniform, and beyond a doubt confident of his position and himself. My gaze lingered on him for a moment only, passing on to an honest, square, and ruddy face—in truth, the face of Winchester, whom I had thought in England. We gave each other that silent hand clasp which speaks so much, and then he said:

“I concluded to make one more trip in the fur trade, and I have brought Mrs. Winchester with me. She is in the next room, and you shall see her presently.”

There was a small matter of wine to be discussed by the gentlemen, and then Winchester, hooking his arm in mine, said he would take me into the adjoining apartment and present me to the ladies.

So many lights glittered in the drawing-room that at first they quite dazzled me, having been unaccustomed so long to anything of the kind. But I heard the words of Winchester as he presented me to his wife, and then, my eyes clearing, I saw her. She was a young Englishwoman of the familiar type, quite as ruddy as Winchester himself, very blonde and handsome, and watching with delighted curiosity the incidents so strange to her that she beheld in the American backwoods.

“Mr. Winchester has told me ten thousand things of you,” she said in the deep, low voice which is among the finest possessions of Englishwomen. “I wonder if they are true?”

“I should like first to know what they are before I vouch for them,” I replied.

She laughed, and said:

“I will tell you of them another time, but now I wish to present you to some one else.”

I looked up and it was Rose Carew—but not the Rose Carew that I had known in the forest. Then she was a simple Western maid fleeing with me through the wilderness and seeking to save life and honour; now she was the woman of quality in splendid raiment, and bearing herself as one to whom tribute was due. I seemed to be further from her than I had felt on that day when I believed I could win her and had put the chance aside. I was for a few moments without the power of speech, and there was a mist before my eyes. I had thought that I should never see her again, and now I saw her, but she stood there, a stranger.

“Am I forgotten, Mr. Lee,” she said calmly, “and will you not take the hand that I offer you?”

I recovered my presence of mind and took her hand. Then my old facility of speech came back—’twas said when I was a youth that I knew what sounded sweet in a lady’s ear—and I made her the handsomest compliments that my tongue could fashion.

“You have become a soldier now, Mr. Lee,” she said, “and all soldiers are alike; it is a large part of their business to make pretty speeches to ladies.”

I disclaimed any intent of flattery, and she continued in this vein for some time, reminding me more and more of the world that I had left behind in the East. She scarce alluded to those tense days when we fled together from the savages, and I began to feel that she had changed in more particulars than one; she had grown more splendid and beautiful, but she was thinking little now of us in the West. It was a painful impression, although I knew that I had no right to feel pain. A sudden chill came over me; the sense of comradeship which had existed between us seemed to be gone forever; certainly I had no right to claim its restoration. I was sorry for a moment or two that I had entered the Converse house, and then the feeling of stubbornness which is often such a bulwark came to my relief. I had resolved to hold my head erect before all men; I would do so before all women too.

I could not monopolize her attention, and soon I yielded my place to another, she letting me go without show of either joy or reluctance, but saying that we should be sure to see each other again before the evening reached its end. I came to the conclusion—and it gave me a pang—that she would rather forget our acquaintance, and it was wholly in reason that she could wish to forget that last interview.

If Miss Carew’s welcome was cool, not so was that of others. I had friends, warm friends, present, who knew that I needed championship, and they came quickly to my relief. General Wayne gave me his especial help, and spoke more than once of my services to the border in such terms that modesty compelled me to enter a disclaimer. Winchester and his wife, too, repeated my praises, and there also was young Harvey, now serving in Wayne’s army. I saw that Mrs. Winchester was already a prime favourite in this little frontier settlement, and her influence was great; she was likely to prove the most efficient of all my champions. Major Carew, also, had not abated one whit from his warm and friendly manner—in truth, as in our earlier acquaintance, I wished that he would be a trifle less effusive—and with the aid of such allies I felt that I should have sufficient courage and resources to maintain my position. Then, despite Rose Carew, I began to feel a warm glow about the heart. There was much present to appeal to me. I was with people who came from the world to which I had belonged, and all the old chords in my nature were touched; mingled with this and stronger than before was the returned knowledge that I was yet a young man, and the reconquest of the world that I wished seemed not impossible. Perhaps my faculties for such lighter affairs as these were strengthened and refreshed by their long disuse, but I felt that I was bearing myself well and that I did not suffer in the passages of words. Once Winchester whispered in my ear, “Keep on as you have begun, Lee.”

But to whomsoever I was talking or whatsoever I was doing I kept a side look on Rose Carew. The fancy that she was not the same girl whom I had known in the forest returned to me with increased force: then she was in every respect simple and unpretending; now she practised all the arts of the finished coquette; she seemed to crave attention—of a certainty she had it; apparently she wished all the men at her feet, and they were there; and despite myself she drew me toward her with as much strength as the simple forest maid had ever done—yes, more.

Jasper approached her presently. I thought that she would turn from him with repulsion, knowing as she must know what he was; but her brightest smile had been saved for him, and soon I heard their voices laughing together at some quip or jest of his. I turned my eyes away with a feeling of anger and a great sinking of the heart. If such deeds as his were to achieve the greater reward, one might well lose faith, not only in the justice of man but in that of the Supreme Power. Yet it was unreasonable of me to find fault with her for believing Jasper’s tale about his presence among the savages, since it was a most plausible one, and evidently had deceived the American officers.

I found that my reputation as an expert in forest lore and combat had reached nearly all the people present, and soon I was called upon to tell about the savages whom Wayne was going to fight for the sake of protecting the border and cleansing away the disgrace of St. Clair’s defeat. I was surrounded by a group and I was compelled to describe with some detail the ways of the Indian, and the dangers that white troops going against him were bound to incur.

“What cruel beings they are!” said a lady.

“It is true,” I said, “but they are savages, and such are the ways of savages. There are some men among them far more guilty than the Indians.”

“Who are they?”

“The renegades, white men who have turned Indian,” I replied—I had introduced this subject purposely, because Jasper was near, and could hear—“white men who have joined the vices of their own race to those of the red man, and who scorn the virtues of either. The blackest souls in the world are among them—Girty, Blackstaffe, and others not so well known.”

I let my eyes fall upon Jasper, but he met my gaze firmly. In truth, I must say that the man was a perfect actor. He laughed lightly, and then said:

“I can vouch for the accuracy of Captain Lee’s statements. When I was captured by the Miamis just after St. Clair’s defeat I was compelled to pretend that I would join them in order to save myself from being burned at the stake, and then I saw Girty and Blackstaffe—and horrible scoundrels they were—ugh! the memory of it is like poison to me yet!”

He gave a shudder of repulsion, and the ladies murmured their sympathy. ’Twas most effective, and yet I was not sorry to have reminded him of the episode, as I wished him to bear in mind that while he was armed against me I also was armed against him. In a few minutes he was playing Miss Carew’s most devoted cavalier, and search as I would for signs of dislike on her part, I could find none; to all his jests and small talk she listened with close attention, and when he made a point her smile and laugh were forthcoming as a matter of course, and at the sight my heart again became most heavy. She was forbidden to me, but I could bear it better to know that she was in the arms of any other man than Jasper. When I saved her from Hoyoquim I did not save her from a worse fate. My opportunity to talk with her came again soon, and it was but to receive a rebuke.

“Why did you speak with such point of renegades in the presence of your cousin?” she asked.

“You know before the telling, Miss Carew,” I said, resolved not to be evasive. “Surely you can not have forgotten how he walked in the Indian village with Girty and Blackstaffe.”

“No, I have not forgot,” she replied; “but how can I know that he was in truth and reality a renegade? You only say so, and you seem not to like him.”

It was bitter to me to hear her words, because I saw now that Jasper had made her believe me to be the villain and himself the martyr, and I do not know what reply I should have made, but there was a murmur and buzz just then near the door, and my chosen comrade and loyal friend Osseo entered, looking the chief and magnificent warrior that he was.

Osseo, though he played the Sphinx on most occasions, was quite subject to human emotions, and he always had a keen eye for the approval of the ladies which I hold to be not unbecoming in him. Therefore he had some very splendid toilets, and I had never seen him looking finer than he was that night. There was not in the whole assembly a man of more dignity and presence—not Mr. Converse, not Major Carew, nor General Wayne himself.

The colour affected by Osseo that evening was dark blue. Such was the tint of his head-dress and of the little eagle’s feather symbolizing the chief rising from the centre of it. The short blanket which hung in folds from his shoulders was of blue, and of the richest texture. His deerskin leggings and moccasins were of light blue adorned with a multitude of little beads and porcupine quills, most of which were dyed a darker shade of the same colour. Around his waist and inclosing his tunic was a broad belt of similar hue, beautifully worked and containing his tomahawk and hunting knife, both with polished horn handles. When I add to this that Osseo was six feet three inches high, with massive shoulders, and a waist as slender as a woman’s, you can easily conceive what a figure he made.

There were little cries, half of terror and half of admiration, from the ladies when the splendid Indian entered, and some of the men who knew him went forward to greet him. But Miss Carew was the first to meet the warrior, and I noticed how much warmer his reception was than mine. In truth, she took his hand in both of hers, and told of her pleasure to see him again.

“You gave me my life, Osseo,” she said, “and I can never reward you.”

Then she proceeded to make a great commotion over the chief, although ’tis not for me to say that he did not deserve it, in which pleasant work she was assisted by most of the other ladies. They hovered around him like a covey of partridges, and the ingenuous red man, with a taste for which I give him credit, made no effort to disguise his pleasure—these Indian chiefs, like white men, know well when they are being made heroes of, and, like white men, they enjoy it. I begrudged Osseo his place for a moment or two, and then I was ashamed of myself for such unworthy thoughts. Truly I should wish my best friend success equal to his desert.

Yet Osseo a little later was the cause of some embarrassment, which fortunately was witnessed by but two or three; ’twas when Miss Carew had joined Winchester and his wife and I was approaching, drawn, I suppose, like the moth to the flame. Then Osseo gave Miss Carew and me a benignant smile, and asked of me, with a significant look at the lady:

“When does Lee take the White Rose to his wigwam?”

Winchester and his wife looked embarrassed, while Miss Carew turned scarlet from neck to brow. I thought it best to take his question as a jest and I replied:

“The White Rose, Osseo, has never yet signified her willingness to go to my wigwam.”

“Why is Lee so foolish as to ask her?” said Osseo with great earnestness. “Let him take her first, and then if he choose ask her when she can make no answer but yes. Lee is a great warrior, and she will soon be happy in his wigwam.”

I was quite confounded. The savages are usually very plain and blunt in the matter of speech, which has its advantages at times and at other times is most awkward; but I replied:

“’Tis not our way, Osseo, and the customs which the white man has practised so long he can not change.”

He shrugged his shoulders as if still believing that the red way was the best, and Miss Carew soon gave me her shoulder, letting me see most plainly that the incident was not to my service. Presently she was with Jasper again, and I withdrew into a little room set aside for the men. There chance placed me next to Major Carew, and it was my impression that his large ambition and worldly views were unchanged. His wife, she whose piteous face had sent me upon the arduous quest, was dead a year and a half, and having come back to Kentucky again to look after his lands, he had found it incumbent upon him as one of its beneficiaries to join in Wayne’s expedition for the relief of the border, at least in its preliminary stages.

He was a man of position, wealth, and reputation, and certainly he would expect his daughter to make a match with one of similar importance. He was yet under fifty, with a youthful, ruddy face.

Major Carew seemed to feel his daughter’s indifferent bearing toward me. The weight of obligation rested upon him and he sought to make amends, speaking for himself with such warmth that my own sense of discomfort increased. I wished to be exactly like other men, and not one whom it was necessary to address in an apologetic way, as if he desired to like me and did like me despite the effort that it cost him. He said much of the Western country, its beauty and fertility, and the rapid growth that would attend it when the Indians should be conquered.

Jasper entered the room while we were talking, and turned his back upon me, which I thought decidedly preferable to his face, but he soon wheeled about and showed me a countenance expanding with triumph. He was firmly convinced, so I felt, that he was making good progress with Miss Carew, and was quite willing to let me see his satisfaction because of it. Jasper in the worldly sense was certainly a good match for her, as Major Carew could not fail to know. But I was silent, not wishing to reply to him in any form or fashion, and I realized that, despite the favour of General Wayne and others, I should have difficulty in maintaining my position in the army. Now that the first step had been taken, this made me all the more determined to go on to the end of the road upon which I had started.

I walked with Mr. and Mrs. Winchester to the two-story log house which they occupied for the present, and each of the two men carried a pistol in his pocket, as the wilderness still converged so close about Cincinnati that a prowling Indian might seek in the darkness to take a scalp and then dash to the woods with it.

I seemed quiet and sad to them as they accused me of being in a gloomy state and rallied me upon it, but I made some trivial reply and disclaimed any such feeling. Then they spoke of Miss Carew, her beauty and her grace.

“It is reported that she will marry Major Jasper Lee,” said Mrs. Winchester, “and she seems to have a mind for him; but I do not trust the man. The heart in him is not right, or his eyes lie. Yet she will marry him, unless some other bold wooer defeats him.”

But I inveighed against women, saying that with a few exceptions, such as Mrs. Winchester, they were of a heartless nature, and overfond of conquest.

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