University of Virginia Library

6. CHAPTER VI.

The effect on the besieged party of the melancholy
occurrence which has just been narrated, was dispiriting
in the extreme. They could not but feel that the
lot of their comrade might soon be their own, and perhaps
with circumstances of aggravated suffering. But
Dudley was not without the strongest hopes that the
severe repulse which the enemy had now met with
would induce them entirely to withdraw, the more especially
as they were not supposed to know the fatal
result of their late discharge of fire-arms. The war-whoop
with which they had accompanied that assault,
gradually died away, and the most perfect silence again
prevailed without. Dudley continued to order occasional
shots from the window, but they elicited no response.
The utmost vigilance was used, and every possible
preventive measure employed, not omitting so serviceable
an agent against a scaling foe as boiling water,
a department of defense under the special superintendence
of Nando. But these precautions proved superfluous,
and the night passed without further alarm.
Baffled and mortified, the savages had retired, bearing
with them the bodies of six of their fallen warriors; a
loss, which seemed to them of almost irreparable magnitude.
Thus the gallant defense of Fort Lee the less,
as it was subsequently termed, proved not only the security
of its inmates, with one lamentable exception,
but, for the time at least, of the whole surrounding settlement.

Mutual congratulations on their escape, and thanks-givings
for so signal a protection of Providence, were

among the earliest employments of the little party on
the ensuing morning. But the panic which had spread
through the neighborhood did not really subside. Some
indeed, returned immediately to their homes, relying in
part upon their private means of defense, but chiefly
confident from their knowledge of Indian character
that the enemy would not soon renew an enterprise
which had proved so disastrous. A more vigilent police
was organized, and a portion of the citizens nightly
acted as sentinels at the prominent posts of observation.

To Ellen Welles, the events which have been recorded
had been doubly terrifying for a cause, which has
as yet, been scarcely apparent. Waldon had in reality
been a rejected claimant for her hand. His pretensions
had been favored by her father, who, wrapped in his
selfish and personal schemes, was as far from appreciating
the worth of his daughter, as he was from penetrating
the villainous character of her suitor. To his
charge, during his temporary absence from home, Captain
Welles had especially confided his household, enjoining
Ellen, in case of danger, to appeal at once to his
protection. And more recently still, Waldon had been
the bearer of a message to Ellen from her father, informing
her that he was engaged in raising a company
of volunteers, with which he should immediately proceed
to join St. Leger under the walls of Fort Stanwix.
He fourther informed her that he had made suitable provision
for her safety during the perilous times that were
like to ensue, and directed her to accept of Waldon's
escort to the place where he was then sojourning.

Dreading his designs in relation to her detested suitor,
yet fearing to disobey a parent, who, though harsh,
was her only protector, she hesitated in most painful
incertitude as to her proper course of action. But when

the messenger proceeded to hint that he was empowered
to enforce the commands of his principal, her terror
knew no bounds. If she had before doubted, she was
now decided, and she resolved to brave every other peril
sooner than to trust herself in the power of her suitor.
But she did not make known her resolutions, and he,
supposing her only to hesitate, specified an hour on the
next day when he would call for her decision, and withdrew.
It was on that evening that her flight to Lee's had
occurred. But Waldon had not been a participant in
the affair of the preceding night, and Ellen's suspicions
on that point had doubtless been caused, in part by her
dread of falling into his hands. To express her gratitude
to Dudley with becoming warmth, and yet with
maidenly reserve, was no difficult task for an intelligent
girl; but it was tremblingly, painfully, and by slow degrees
alone, that she was able to disclose, in answer to
his earnest and respectful inquiries, the other particulars
of her unfortunate position.

Beautiful did the timid girl appear as she related
her griefs, and Dudley longed for nothing so much as to
throw himself at her feet and offer her a lifelong protection.
But with quick discernment he appreciated the
unfitness of the occasion for any declaration of his feelings.
It should be, he thought, proudly, under other circumstances,
when he was better entitled to ask, and she
more free to refuse, that he would seek the hand and
heart of one so peerless and so pure. At present, it became
his duty rather to make provision for her safety,
and on this subject he hastened to speak. He knew that
small volunteer companies, in response to the earnest appeal
of Col. Gansevoort, were daily flocking to the relief
of Fort Stanwix, and had learned, on inquiry, that
one of these, en route for that military post, was hourly

expected in the neighborhood. He at once proposed
to her to take advantage of such an escort to fly to the
Fort, where she would find numbers of her own sex,
who had sought the same refuge, and whence, if she
should so desire, she could at any moment be transferred
to her father in the British camp. She could beattended,
he said, by her maid, and he, if she would permit,
would accompany her and fulfil an intention that
he had long entertained, of seeking service in the
American Army. The same evening found the whole
party, including Rogers, who had enlisted as a private,
safely within the walls of the Fort.