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Updated: May 21, 2025
When the Indians left the column at the head of the lake, I would invent some excuse that might allow me to accompany them on their return, and I would remain in the neighborhood of the Fort until Elsa Matherson had been found. Just in front of us, a large army wain struggled along through the yielding sand, drawn by a yoke of lumbering oxen.
But not once did you breathe the name of the girl in my ears. The dwellers at Dearborn were neither so many nor so strange to me that I could not have aided you in your search." "You knew this Elsa Matherson?" "I am not so sure of that, Master Wayland." she returned gravely, her eyes wandering into the night.
To whomsoever else she might have given her heart, she was still the one for whom I was most glad either to live or die; and in spite of De Croix, I would ride at her side on the morrow, within striking distance of any prowling hostile. Let the Matherson girl wait; my arm belonged first of all to the defence of Mademoiselle.
Her manner and words were puzzling, but I knew no better way than to answer frankly. "I sought Elsa Matherson, are you she?" The girl for she could certainly have been little more started perceptibly at the name, and bent eagerly forward, peering with new interest into my face. "Elsa Matherson?" she questioned, dwelling upon the words as though they awoke memories.
"Those who sent you forth seeking a sister might not thus wish to welcome Elsa Matherson," she said softly. "'Tis a venture I most gladly make," I insisted, "and would seal it with a kiss." Her eyes flashed up at me, full of sudden merriment. "The unpaid wager leaves me helpless to resist, Monsieur." The soft haze of Indian summer rested over the valley of the Maumee.
I looked as she pointed, and easily distinguished the one glittering spark that pierced the darkness to the north and east. I wondered at her earlier words; yet they might all be true enough, for I knew nothing of this Elsa Matherson. Before I could question further, De Croix had interfered, eager, no doubt, to be rid of me.
My mind, though I strove to cast the thought aside, was still occupied with the mystery of Elsa Matherson; but the more I dwelt upon it, the less I was able to penetrate the secret of her strange presence in the Indian camp, or devise any scheme for reaching her.
'T is from Roger Matherson, of whom you have heard me speak." My mother was a good scholar, and she read clearly, only hesitating now and, then over some ill-written or misspelled word. At FORT DEARBORN, near the head of the Great Lake. Twelfth June, 1812.
He would himself have accompanied him, but must first bear a message to friends at Vincennes. It is now some weeks since Roger Matherson died, and we shall prove unworthy of our trust if we delay longer in sending for his daughter."
"It is indeed long since I have heard the name. Where knew you her?" "I have never known her; but her father was my father's friend, and I sought her because of that friendship." "Here?" "At Fort Dearborn, where she was left an orphan." "How strange! how very strange indeed! 'T is a small world. Elsa Matherson! and at Dearborn?"
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