The Deerslayer (Barnes & Noble Classics) - James Fenimore Cooper [232]
As soon as the girl got a glimpse of the canoe, she ceased her hurried walk up and down the platform, and stood ready to receive the young man, whose return she had now been anxiously expecting for some time. She helped him to fasten the canoe, and by aiding in the other little similar employments, manifested her desire to reach a moment of liberty as soon as possible. When this was done, in answer to an inquiry of his she informed him of the manner in which their companions had disposed of themselves. He listened attentively, for the manner of the girl was so earnest and impressive as to apprise him that she had something on her mind of more than common concern.
“And now, Deerslayer,” Judith continued, “you see I have lighted the lamp, and put it in the cabin of the ark. That is never done with us, unless on great occasions, and I consider this night as the most important of my life. Will you follow me and see what I have to show you—hear what I have to say?”
The hunter was a little surprised; but making no objections, both were soon in the scow, and in the room that contained the light. Here two stools were placed at the side of the chest, with the lamp on another, and a table near by to receive the different articles, as they might be brought to view. This arrangement had its rise in the feverish impatience of the girl, which could brook no delay that it was in her power to obviate. Even all the padlocks were removed, and it only remained to raise the heavy lid, and to expose the treasures of this long-secreted hoard.
“I see, in part, what all this means,” observed Deerslayer, “yes, I see through it, in part. But why is not Hetty present? Now Thomas Hutter is gone, she is one of the owners of these cur’osities, and ought to see them opened and handled.”
“Hetty sleeps,” answered Judith, hastily. “Happily for her, fine clothes and riches have no charms. Besides, she has this night given her share of all that the chest may hold to me, that I may do with it as I please.”
“Is poor Hetty composs enough for that, Judith?” demanded the just-minded young man. “It’s a good rule, and a righteous one, never to take when those that give don’t know the valie of their gifts; and such as God has visited heavily in their wits, ought to be dealt with as carefully as children that haven’t yet come to their understandings.”
Judith was hurt at this rebuke, coming from the person it did; but she would have felt it far more keenly had not her conscience fully acquitted her of any unjust intentions towards her feebleminded but confiding sister. It was not a moment, however, to betray any of her usual mountings of the spirit, and she smothered the passing sensation in the desire to come to the great object she had in view.
“Hetty will not be wronged,” she mildly answered; “she even knows not only what I am about to do, Deerslayer, but why I do it. So take your seat, raise the lid of the chest, and this time we will go to the bottom. I shall be disappointed if something is not found to tell us more of the history of Thomas Hutter and my mother.”
“Why Thomas Hutter, Judith, and not your father? The dead ought to meet with as much reverence as the living!”
“I have long suspected that Thomas Hutter was not my father, though I did think he might have been Hetty’s; but now we know he was father of neither. He acknowledged that much in his dying moments. I am old enough to remember better things than we have seen on this lake, though they are so faintly impressed on my memory that the earlier part of my life seems like a dream.”
“Dreams are but miserable guides when one has to detarmine about realities,