The great change of feeling in Peter was not very clearly understood by Margery, any more than it was by her husband; though, had her attention been drawn more strictly to it, she would have best known how to appreciate it.  But this knowledge was not wanting to put her perfectly at peace, so far as apprehension of his doing her harm was concerned.  This sense of security she now manifested in a conversation with le Bourdon, that took place soon after Peter had left them.

“I wish we weren’t in the hands of this red-skin, Margery,” said her husband, a little more off his guard than was his wont.

“Of Peter!  You surprise me, Benjamin.  I think we could not be in better hands, since we have got this risk to run with the savages.  If it was Pigeonswing that you feared, I could understand it.”

“I will answer for Pigeonswing with my life.”

“I am glad to hear you say so, for I do not half like him.  Perhaps I am prejudiced against him.  The scalp he took down at the mouth of the river set me against him from the first.”

“Do you not know, Margery, that your great friend goes by the name of ’Scalping Peter’?”

“Yes, I know it very well; but I do not believe he ever took a scalp in his life.”

“Did he ever tell you as much as that?”

“I can’t say that he did; but he has never paraded anything of the sort before my eyes, like Pigeonswing.  I do not half like that Chippewa, dear Bourdon.”

“No fear of him, Margery; nor, when I come to think it all over, do I see why Peter should have brought us here, if he means anything wrong.  The man is so mysterious, that I cannot line him down to his hole.”

“My word for it, Bourdon, that when you do, it will take you to a friendly hive.  I have put almost as much faith in Peter as in you or Gershom.  You heard what he said about Parson Amen and the corporal.”

“And how coolly he took it all,” answered her husband, shaking his head.  “It has been a sudden departure for them, and one would think even an Injin might have felt it more.”

Margery’s cheek grew pale, and her limbs trembled a little.  It was a minute ere she could pursue the discourse.

“This is terrible, but I will not, cannot believe it,” she said.  “I’m sure, Bourdon, we ought to be very thankful to Peter for having brought us here.  Remember how earnestly he listened to the words of the Saviour.”

“If he has brought us here with a good intention, I thank him for it.  But I scarce know what to think.  Pigeonswing has given me many a hint, which I have understood to mean that we ought not to trust this unknown Injin too much.”

“So has he given me some of his hints, though I would sooner trust Peter than trust him, any time.”

“Our lives are in the care of Providence, I see.  If we can really rely on these two Injins, all may be well; for Peter has brought us to an admirable cover, and he says that the Chippewa prepared it.”