Wau-nan-gee; Or, the Massacre at Chicago: A Romance of the American RevolutionRichardson, Major (John)
General
Wau-nan-gee; Or, the Massacre at Chicago: A Romance of the American Revolution
Richardson, Major (John)
Chicago (Ill.) -- Fiction; Fort Dearborn Massacre, Chicago, Ill., 1812 -- Fiction; Massacres -- Fiction
"Oh, no, say not so," she suddenly exclaimed, sinking on her knees
at his feet, and holding up her hands in an attitude of supplication;
"can that be ill in your eyes which brings happiness to the heart
of your loving wife? Pity rather the existence of those fears which
cause her to tremble, lest the cup be dashed from her lips ere yet
half tasted. Oh! I dare not speak more plainly--not yet--not
yet--to-morrow--then shall the restraint be removed, from my lips
and heart, and, whatever be the result, you shall know all. I feel
that to you I must appear to speak in parables and mystery; but
oh, since yesterday, I feel that I am not myself."
She drooped her head upon his shoulder, and wept profoundly.
"Calm yourself, dearest; I will harass you with no more converse
on this subject to-night. Let one remark suffice. I am afraid that
Captain Headley will refuse permission for us to venture as far as
Hardscrabble; he thinks it attended by risk to the officers on the
part of the Indians; of course, much more to you."
"Nay, Ronayne, there cannot surely be a greater risk incurred there
than in venturing on a fishing excursion, as you have done to-night.
Besides, we need not let him know that we are going in that
direction."
"What! you wicked mutineer," chided Ronayne, playfully, "do you
recommend insubordination? Would you have me to disobey the orders
of the commanding officer? Oh, fie!"
"Not exactly that," she returned, with a slight blush; "but gratify
me only this once, and I will never allow you to break an order
again."
"Nay, sweetest, I did but jest; were my life the penalty, I would
not deny you."
"Ah! how little does he think that more than life depends upon it,"
murmured Mrs. Ronayne to herself. "Or who could have supposed
yesterday that my heart would have been oppressed by the feelings
which assail it now? Wau-nan-gee--strange, wildly--loving,
fascinating, and incomprehensible boy--with what confidence do I
repose on your truth; with what joy do I at length glory in that
devotedness which has made you so wholly, so exclusively mine."
These words were abstractedly, almost involuntarily, uttered in a
low tone, as Ronayne left the room in search of Doctor Von Voltenberg,
who he was desirous should, for the better protection of his wife
from accident, accompany them on their ride of to-morrow.
She herself soon retired for the night, but not to rest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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