The girl blushed, but she also smiled, and, moreover, she looked pleased.
“I am afraid that you are not as much altered as you think,” she answered, laughingly, however. “It may seem so now; but when you come to live in the settlements again, you will get tired of crowds.”
“Then I will come with you, Margery, into these Openings, and we can live together here, surely, as well, or far better than I can live here alone. You and Gershom’s wife have spoiled my housekeeping. I really did not know, until you came up here, how much a woman can do in a chiente.
“Why, Bourdon, you have lived long enough in the settlements to know that!”
“That is true; but I look upon the settlements as one thing, and on the Openings as another. What will do there isn’t needed here; and what will do here won’t answer there. But these last few days have so changed Castle Meal, that I hardly know it myself.”
“Perhaps the change is for the worse, and you wish it undone, Bourdon,” observed the girl, in the longing she had to hear an assurance to the contrary, at the very moment she felt certain that assurance would be given.
“No, no, Margery. Woman has taken possession of my cabin, and woman shall now always command there, unless you alter your mind, and refuse to have me. I shall speak to the missionary to marry us, as soon as I can get him alone. His mind is running so much on the Jews, that he has hardly a moment left for us Christians.”
The color on Margery’s cheek was not lessened by this declaration; though, to admit the truth, she looked none the less pleased. She was a warm-hearted and generous girl, and sometimes hesitated about separating herself and her fortunes from those of Gershom and Dorothy; but the bee-hunter had persuaded her this would be unnecessary, though she did accept him for a husband. The point had been settled between them on previous occasions, and much conversation had already passed, in that very walk, which was confined to that interesting subject. But Margery was not now disposed to say more, and she adroitly improved the hint thrown out by Boden, to change the discourse.
“It is the strangest notion I ever heard of,” she cried, laughing, “to believe Injins to be Jews!”
“He tells me he is by no means the first who has fancied it. Many writers have said as much before him, and all he claims is, to have been among them, and to have seen these Hebrews with his own eyes. But here he comes, and can answer for himself.”
Just as this was said, Parson Amen joined the party, Corporal Flint closing to the front, as delicacy no longer required him to act as a rear-guard. The good missionary came up a little heated; and, in order that he might have time to cool himself, the rate of movement was slightly reduced. In the mean time the conversation did not the less proceed.
“We were talking of the lost tribes,” said Margery, half smiling as she spoke, “and of your idea, Mr. Amen, that these Injins are Jews. It seems strange to me that they should have lost so much of their ancient ways, and notions, and appearances, if they are really the people you think.”