means of the trap, in the manner already described. On
quitting the palisades, Hist was seen in the remaining canoe, where
the Delaware immediately joined her, and paddled away, leaving Judith
standing alone on the platform. Owing to this prompt proceeding,
Deerslayer found himself alone with the beautiful and still weeping
mourner. Too simple to suspect anything, the young man swept the light
boat round, and received its mistress in it, when he followed the course
already taken by his friend. The direction to the point led diagonally
past, and at no great distance from, the graves of the dead. As the
canoe glided by, Judith for the first time that morning spoke to her
companion. She said but little; merely uttering a simple request to
stop, for a minute or two, ere she left the place.
"I may never see this spot again, Deerslayer," she said, "and it
contains the bodies of my mother and sister! Is it not possible, think
you, that the innocence of one of these beings may answer in the eyes of
God for the salvation of both?"
"I don't understand it so, Judith, though I'm no missionary, and am but
poorly taught. Each spirit answers for its own backslidings, though a
hearty repentance will satisfy God's laws."
"Then must my poor poor mother be in heaven! Bitterly, bitterly has she
repented of her sins, and surely her sufferings in this life ought to
count as something against her sufferings in the next!"
"All this goes beyond me, Judith. I strive to do right, here, as the
surest means of keeping all right, hereafter. Hetty was oncommon, as
all that know'd her must allow, and her soul was as fit to consart with
angels the hour it left its body, as that of any saint in the Bible!"
"I do believe you only do her justice! Alas! Alas! that there should be
so great differences between those who were nursed at the same
breast, slept in the same bed, and dwelt under the same roof! But, no
matter--move the canoe, a little farther east, Deerslayer--the sun so
dazzles my eyes that I cannot see the graves. This is Hetty's, on the
right of mother's?"
"Sartain--you ask'd that of us, and all are glad to do as you wish,
Judith, when you do that which is right."
The girl gazed at him near a minute, in silent attention; then she
turned her eyes backward, at the castle. "This lake will soon be
entirely deserted," she said, "and this, too, at a moment when it will
be a more secure dwelling place than ever. What has so lately happene
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