He would almost certainly be killed and scalped, or captured and brought back to be shot or hanged in Vincennes.

The thought chilled and curdled her blood.
Both Helm and Father Beret tried to encourage and comfort her by representing the probabilities in the fairest light.
"It's like hunting for a needle in a haystack, going out to find a man in that wilderness," said Helm with optimistic cheerfulness; "and besides Beverley is no easy dose for twenty red niggers to take.

I've seen him tried at worse odds than that, and he got out with a whole skin, too.

Don't you fret about him, Miss Roussillon." Little help came to her from attempts of this sort.

She might brighten up for a while, but the dark dread, and the terrible gnawing at her heart, the sinking and despairing in her soul, could not be cured.
What added immeasurably to her distress was the attention of Farnsworth, whose wound troubled him but a short time.