The Pathfinder by James Fenimore Cooper (top e book reader TXT) 📖

burnt a hole through your own precious body, and left a place for all the lassies to peer in at, to see what the combustible material was worth.”

“Ye’ll have your own way, Major Duncan; and your father and mother would have theirs before ye, even if the enemy were in the camp. I see nothing so extraordinar’ in young people following the bent of their inclinations and wishes.”

“But you’ve followed yours so often, Davy, that I should think by this time it had lost the edge of novelty. Including that informal affair in Scotland, when you were a lad, you’ve been married four times already.”

“Only three, Major, as I hope to get another wife. I’ve not yet had my number: no, no; only three.”

“I’m thinking, Davy, you don’t include the first affair I mentioned; that in which there was no parson.”

“And why should I Major? The courts decided that it was no marriage; and what more could a man want? The woman took advantage of a slight amorous propensity that may be a weakness in my disposition, perhaps, and inveigled me into a contract which was found to be illegal.”

“If I remember right, Muir, there were thought to be two sides to that question, in the time of it?”

“It would be but an indifferent question, my dear Major, that hadn’t two sides to it; and I’ve known many that had three. But the poor woman’s dead, and there was no issue; so nothing came of it after all. Then, I was particularly unfortunate with my second wife; I say second, Major, out of deference to you, and on the mere supposition that the first was a marriage at all; but first or second, I was particularly unfortunate with Jeannie Graham, who died in the first lustrum, leaving neither chick nor chiel behind her. I do think, if Jeannie had survived, I never should have turned my thoughts towards another wife.”

“But as she did not, you married twice after her death; and are desirous of doing so a third time.”

“The truth can never justly be gainsaid, Major Duncan, and I am always ready to avow it. I’m thinking, Lundie, you are melancholar this fine evening?”

“No, Muir, not melancholy absolutely; but a little thoughtful, I confess. I was looking back to my boyish days, when I, the laird’s son, and you, the parson’s, roamed about our native hills, happy and careless boys, taking little heed to the future; and then have followed some thoughts, that may be a little painful, concerning that future as it has turned out to be.”

“Surely, Lundie, ye do not complain of yer portion of it. You’ve risen to be a major, and will soon be a lieutenant-colonel, if letters tell the truth; while I am just one step higher than when your honored father gave me my first commission, and a poor deevil of a quartermaster.”

“And the four wives?”

“Three, Lundie; three only that were legal, even under our own liberal and sanctified laws.”

“Well, then, let it be three. Ye know, Davy,” said Major Duncan, insensibly dropping into the pronunciation and dialect of his youth, as is much the practice with educated Scotchmen as they warm with a subject that comes near the heart, — “ye know, Davy, that my own choice has long been made, and in how anxious and hope-wearied a manner I’ve waited for that happy hour when I can call the woman I’ve so long loved a wife; and here have you, without fortune, name, birth, or merit — I mean particular merit — “

“Na, na; dinna say that, Lundie. The Muirs are of gude bluid.”

“Well, then, without aught but bluid, ye’ve wived four times — “

“I tall ye but thrice, Lundie. Ye’ll weaken auld friendship if ye call it four.”

“Put it at yer own number, Davy; and it’s far more than yer share. Our lives have been very different, on the score of matrimony, at least; you must allow that, my old friend.”

“And which do you think has been the gainer, Major, speaking as frankly thegither as we did when lads?”

“Nay, I’ve nothing to conceal. My days have passed in hope deferred, while yours have passed in — “

“Not in hope realized, I give you mine honor, Major Duncan,” interrupted the Quartermaster. “Each new experiment I have thought might prove an advantage; but disappointment seems the lot of man. Ah! this is a vain world of ours, Lundie, it must be owned; and in nothing vainer than in matrimony.”

“And yet you are ready to put your neck into the noose for the fifth time?”

“I desire to say, it will be but the fourth, Major Duncan,” said the Quartermaster positively; then, instantly changing the expression of his face to one of boyish rapture, he added, “But this Mabel Dunham is a rara avis! Our Scotch lassies are fair and pleasant; but it must be owned these colonials are of surpassing comeliness.”

“You will do well to recollect your commission and blood, Davy. I believe all four of your wives — “

“I wish my dear Lundie, ye’d be more accurate in yer arithmetic. Three times one make three.”

“All three, then, were what might be termed gentlewomen?”

“That’s just it, Major. Three were gentlewomen, as you say, and the connections were suitable.”

“And the fourth being the daughter of my father’s gardener, the connection was unsuitable. But have you no fear that marrying the child of a non-commissioned officer, who is in the same corps with yourself, will have the effect to lessen your consequence in the regiment?”

“That’s just been my weakness through life, Major Duncan; for I’ve always married without regard to consequences. Every man has his besetting sin, and matrimony, I fear, is mine. And now that we have discussed what may be called the principles of the connection, I will just ask if you did me the favor to speak to the Sergeant on the trifling affair?”

“I did, David; and am sorry to say, for your hopes, that I see no great chance of your succeeding.”

“Not succeeding! An officer, and a quartermaster in the bargain, and not succeed with a sergeant’s daughter!”

“It’s just that, Davy.”

“And why not, Lundie? Will ye have the goodness to answer just that?”

“The girl is betrothed. Hand plighted, word passed, love pledged, — no, hang me if I believe that either; but she is betrothed.”

“Well, that’s an obstacle, it must be avowed, Major, though it counts for little if the heart is free.”

“Quite true; and I think it probable the heart is free in this case; for the intended husband appears to be the choice of the father rather than of the daughter.”

“And who may it be, Major?” asked the Quartermaster, who viewed the whole matter with the philosophy and coolness acquired by use. “I do not recollect any plausible suitor that is likely to stand in my way.”

“No, you are the only plausible suitor on the frontier, Davy. The happy man is Pathfinder.”

“Pathfinder, Major Duncan!”

“No more, nor any less, David Muir. Pathfinder is the man; but it may relieve your jealousy a little to know that, in my judgment at least, it is a match of the father’s rather than of the daughter’s seeking.”

“I thought as much!” exclaimed the Quartermaster, drawing a long breath, like one who felt relieved; “it’s quite impossible that with my experience in human nature - “

“Particularly hu-woman’s nature, David.”

“Ye will have yer joke, Lundie, let who will suffer. But I did not think it possible I could be deceived as to the young woman’s inclinations, which I think I may boldly pronounce to be altogether above the condition of Pathfinder. As for the individual himself — why, time will show.”

“Now, tell me frankly, Davy Muir,” said Lundie, stepping short in his walk, and looking the other earnestly in the face with a comical expression of surprise, that rendered the veteran’s countenance ridiculously earnest, —“do you really suppose a girl like the daughter of Sergeant Dunham can take a serious fancy to a man of your years and appearance, and experience, I might add?”

“Hout, awa’, Lundie! ye dinna know the sax, and that’s the reason yer unmarried in yer forty-fifth year. It’s a fearfu’ time ye’ve been a bachelor, Major!”

“And what may be your age, Lieutenant Muir, if I may presume to ask so delicate a question?”

“Forty-seven; I’ll no’ deny it, Lundie; and if I get Mabel, there’ll be just a wife for every twa lustrums. But I didna think Sergeant Dunham would be so humble minded as to dream of giving that sweet lass of his to one like the Pathfinder.”

“There’s no dream about it, Davy; the man is as serious as a soldier about to be flogged.”

“Well, well, Major, we are auld friends,” — both ran into the Scotch or avoided it, as they approached or drew away from their younger days, in the dialogue, — “and ought to know how to take and give a joke, off duty. It is possible the worthy man has not understood my hints, or he never would have thought of such a thing. The difference between an officer’s consort and a guide’s woman is as vast as that between the antiquity of Scotland and the antiquity of America. I’m auld blood, too, Lundie.”

“Take my word for it Davy, your antiquity will do you no good in this affair; and as for your blood, it is not older than your bones. Well, well, man, ye know the Sergeant’s answer; and so ye perceive that my influence, on which ye counted so much, can do nought for ye. Let us take a glass thegither, Davy, for auld acquaintance sake; and then ye’ll be doing well to remember the party that marches the morrow, and to forget Mabel Dunham as fast as ever you can.”

“Ah, Major! I have always found it easier to forget a wife than to forget a sweetheart. When a couple are fairly married, all is settled but the death, as one may say, which must finally part us all; and it seems to me awfu’ irreverent to disturb the departed; whereas there is so much anxiety and hope and felicity in expectation like, with the lassie, that it keeps thought alive.”

“That is just my idea of your situation, Davy; for I never supposed you expected any more felicity with either of your wives. Now, I’ve heard of fellows who were so stupid as to look forward to happiness with their wives even beyond the grave. I drink to your success, or to your speedy recovery from this attack, Lieutenant; and I admonish you to be more cautious in future, as some of these violent cases may yet carry you off.”

“Many thanks, dear Major; and a speedy termination to an old courtship, of which I know something. This is real mountain dew, Lundie, and it warms the heart like a gleam of bonnie Scotland. As for the men you’ve just mentioned, they could have had but one wife a piece; for where there are several, the deeds of the women themselves may carry them different ways. I think a reasonable husband ought to be satisfied with passing his allotted time with any particular wife in this world, and not to go about moping for things unattainable. I’m infinitely obliged to you, Major Duncan, for this and all your other acts of friendship; and if you could but add another, I should think you had not altogether forgotten the play-fellow of your boyhood.”

“Well, Davy, if the request be reasonable, and such as a superior ought to grant, out with it, man.”

“If ye could only contrive a little service for me, down among the Thousand Isles, for a fortnight or so, I think