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Updated: June 15, 2025
With preparations well in hand, Brant's thoughts veered once again toward Naida he could not leave her, perhaps ride forth to death, without another effort to learn what was this impassable object between them. He rode down to the Herndon house with grave face and sober thought.
Whatever the truth may be as to Brant's peaceful intentions on the ninth of July, his attitude was certain on the fourth of the succeeding August. On that date, according to Roosevelt, the treacherous pensioner wrote to Alexander McKee that "we came here not only to assist with our advice, but other ways, * we came here with arms in our hands."
He expresses himself with great fluency, and was much esteemed by General Haldimand. His countenance is manly and intelligent, and his disposition very mild." During this visit a dramatic episode occurred which occupies a conspicuous place in all books devoted to Brant's life.
Once I have them in the Gevangenhuis it will go hard if I can't squeeze the secret of old Brant's money out of one of the three of them. The women wouldn't know, they wouldn't have told the women, besides I don't want to meddle with them, indeed nothing would persuade me to that" and he shivered as though at some wretched recollection.
There were other differences, social and political. You understand that; you have suffered, too." He reached out his hand and pressed Brant's, in heavy effusiveness. "But," he continued haughtily, lightly tossing his glove again, "we are also men of the world; we let that pass." And it was possible that he found the strain of his present attitude too great, for he changed to an easier position.
Lane dismounted at Brant's order, and assisted Hampton to climb into the vacated saddle. Then the trooper grasped the rein of Murphy's horse, and the little party started toward where the pack-train was hidden in the valley. The young officer rode silent and at a walk, his eyes occasionally studying the face of the other and noting its drawn, gray look. The very sight of Hampton had been a shock.
Close by is a mound where lie the bodies of many of Brant's Indian contemporaries buried, native fashion in a circle, with the feet converging to a centre. Thirty years ago, the wooden vault in which Brant's remains and those of his son John were interred had become dilapidated. The Six Nations resolved upon constructing a new one of stone, and re-interring the remains.
But I forgot, too," she added, with a sarcastic smile, "that you are also my husband, and I am in your room." The contemptuous significance of her speech dispelled the last lingering remnant of Brant's dream. In a voice as dry as her own, he said, "I am afraid you will now have to remember only that I am a Northern general, and you a Southern spy." "So be it," she said gravely.
Naida felt so badly over your meeting this morning that I just compelled her to confide her whole story to me. And didn't you fight at all?" "Most assuredly not," and Brant's eyes began to exhibit amusement; "indeed, we parted quite friendly." "I told Naida I thought you would. People don't take such things so seriously nowadays, do they?
We thought you would perhaps prefer to see her alone," said the surgeon, "for when I endeavored to bring her to, and was sponging her face and head to discover her injuries, her color came off! She was a white woman stained and disguised as a mulatto." For an instant Brant's heart sank. It was Miss Faulkner. "Did you recognize her?" he said, glancing from the one to the other.
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