Ellen Walton / Or, The Villain and His Victims
accompanied a body of Indians, who were ready to march upon the settlements of Kentucky, with a select few, to whom he had confided his intentions of capturing a white squaw. Wi
d mistaken the house, and a family by the name of Scr
been commissioned with the execution of the plot not having returned when he was forced to retreat. However, he was not long kept in suspense; one of his men came back, and reported a wonderful adventure with a "big squaw, taller than the greatest warrior," who killed a number of the Indians, he said, and when two of the others undertook to get down the chimney, "big squaw took up mighty great wallet, all full of feathers, more than was on all the eagles of all the hunting grounds of the red men, and tearing it o
g his confidence and boasting, and the care with which he had laid his "hidden toils." He was greatl
elt sure would succeed. This time he called into requisition the services of his old crony in crime, the infamous, but not untainted, Ramsey. With h
ake observations, and work out the details of the plot and attack. Stealthily approaching the vicinity of the Waltons, he secreted himself in a hollow tree during the day, from an orif
and yellow, and was gorgeously beautiful in the ripened glory of its drapery. The season, the scene, the sunny warmth all invited to a
on the succeeding day by a circumstance which at once gave him fresh encouragement and sanguine hopes. Ellen made her appearance, leaning on the gentleman's a
ying the spot, seated themselves on the trunk of a fallen tree, that lay close to the one in which he had e
the 'gray old forest,'" said Ellen. "I have
hould think you would recreate
met with an unexpected streak of ill luck, which has deterred me ever s
e not informed m
ies have occupied my mind; and, after all, it is hardly worth
ow of this
enemy, Durant, who made another attempt to deceive me; but fa
ted the incidents of her interview with
uch an unaccountable dislike for you, w
a few words of merited rebuke I was forced, by his unmanliness, to p
m since the day he obtruded himself
s, soon afterward, but failed in his object from some cause. But notwithstanding I have heard no direct t
ter be banished at
y efforts to the contrary, come into my mind. I do not and will not yie
I pray God, they
ld always be near me; I dre
ant when this dearest wish of bo
crets between lovers, which they dislike for third parties to look into, we will take
ar his hiding-place. At the end of a week, Durant learned from the conversation of the young couple that the gentleman was to return to Virginia in a day or two, to make preparations for the coming wedding, wh
as they are, they will be so absorbed in each others' feelings, and the silly s
arrangements were discussed and adopted; and Durant, now that he felt certain of his victims-for his hate of Ellen's lover was bitter, though of recent date-was almost beside himself with malignant and hellish joy. He saw before him the speedy accomplishment of his fiendish purpose-the gratification of his inveterate hate and long sought re