The following day, when light had returned, a more accurate idea was obtained of the real state of the valley.  All of the invading party, the dead and wounded excepted, had made a rapid retreat, accompanied by most of the deserters and their families.  The name, known influence, and actual authority of Colonel Beekman had wrought this change; the irregular powers that had set the expedition in motion, preferring to conceal their agency in the transaction, rather than make any hazardous attempt to claim the reward of patriotic service, as is so often done in revolutions, for merciless deeds and selfish acts.  There had been no real design on the part of the whites to injure any of the family in their persons; but, instigated by Joel, they had fancied the occasion favourable for illustrating their own public virtue, while they placed themselves in the way of receiving fortune’s favours.  The assault that actually occurred, was one of those uncontrollable outbreakings of Indian ferocity, that have so often set at defiance the restraints of discipline.

Nick was not to be found either.  He had been last seen dressing his wounds, with Indian patience, and Indian skill, preparing to apply herbs and roots, in quest of which he went into the forest about midnight.  As he did not return Willoughby feared that he might be suffering alone, and determined to have a search made, as soon as he had performed the last sad offices for the dead.

Two days occurred, however, before this melancholy duty was discharged.  The bodies of all the savages who had fallen were interred the morning after the assault; but that of Jamie Allen, with those of the principal persons of the family, were kept for the pious purposes of affection, until the time mentioned.

The funeral was a touching sight.  The captain, his wife, and daughter, were laid, side by side, near the chapel; the first and last of their race that ever reposed in the wilds of America.  Mr. Woods read the funeral service, summoning all his spiritual powers to sustain him, as he discharged this solemn office of the church.  Willoughby’s arm was around the waist of Maud, who endeavoured to reward his tender assiduities by a smile, but could not.  Colonel Beekman held little Evert in his arms, and stood over the grave with the countenance of a resolute man stricken with grief—­one of the most touching spectacles of our nature.

“I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord,” sounded in the stillness of that valley like a voice from heaven, pouring out consolation on the bruised spirits of the mourners.  Maud raised her face from Willoughby’s shoulder, and lifted her blue eyes to the cloudless vault above her; soliciting mercy, and offering resignation in the look.  The line of troops in the back-ground moved, as by a common impulse, and then a breathless silence showed the desire of these rude beings not to lose a syllable.