“Out upon ye, Nick!” he cried.  “Had I known the like of that, little would I have campaigned in yer company!  Och! ’twas an undacent deed, and a hundred confessions would barely wipe it from yer sowl.  It’s a pity, too, that ye’ve died widout absolution from a praist, sich as I’ve tould ye off.  Barrin’ the brache of good fellieship, I could have placed yer own scalp wid the rest, as a p’ace-offering, to his Honour, the Missus and Miss Beuly——­”

“Enough,” interrupted Sir Robert Willoughby, with an authority of manner that Mike’s military habits could not resist; “the man has repented, and is forgiven.  Maud, love, it is time to quit this melancholy scene; occasions will offer to revisit it.”

In the end, Mr. Woods took possession of the Hut, as a sort of hermitage, in which to spend the remainder of his days.  He had toiled hard for the conversion of Nick, in gratitude for the manner in which he had fought in defence of the females.  He now felt as keen a desire to rescue the Irishman from the superstitions of what he deemed an error quite as fatal as heathenism.  Mike consented to pass the remainder of his days at the Knoll, which was to be, and in time, was, renovated, under their joint care.

Sir Robert and Lady Willoughby passed a month in the valley.  Nick had been buried within the bushes; and even Maud had come to look upon this strange conjunction of graves, with the eye of a Christian, blended with the tender regrets of a woman.  The day that the general and his wife left the valley for ever, they paid a final visit to the graves.  Here Maud wept for an hour.  Then her husband, passing an arm around her waist, drew her gently away; saying, as they were quitting the inclosure—­

“They are in Heaven, dearest—­looking down in love, quite likely, on us, the objects of so much of their earthly affection.  As for Wyandotte, he lived according to his habits and intelligence, and happily died under the convictions of a conscience directed by the lights of divine grace.  Little will the deeds of this life be remembered, among those who have been the true subjects of its blessed influence.  If this man were unmerciful in his revenge, he also remembered my mother’s kindnesses, and bled for her and her daughters.  Without his care, my life would have remained unblessed with your love, my ever-precious Maud!  He never forgot a favour, or forgave an injury.”