D'RI AND I

A TALE of DARING DEEDS in the SECOND WAR with the BRITISH. 

Being the Memoirs of Colonel Ramon Bell, U. S. A. 

BY IRVING BACHELLER, author of "Eben Holden. "

1901

TO MY WIFE

PREFACE

This is a tale of the adventurous and rugged pioneers, who, unconquered by other foes, were ever at war with the ancientwilderness, pushing the northern frontier of the white man fartherand farther to the west. Early in the last century they hadstriped the wild waste of timber with roadways from Lake Champlainto Lake Ontario, and spotted it with sown acres wide and fair; andstill, as they swung their axes with the mighty vigor of greatarms, the forest fell before them, In a long valley south of the St. Lawrence, sequestered by river, lake, and wilderness, they were slow to lose the simplicity, thedialect, and the poverty of their fathers. 

Some Frenchmen of wealth and title, having fled the Reign ofTerror, bought a tract of wild country there (six hundred andthirty thousand acres) and began to fill it with fine homes. Itwas said the great Napoleon himself would some day build a chateauamong them. A few men of leisure built manor-houses on the riverfront, and so the Northern Yankee came to see something of thesplendor of the far world, with contempt, as we may well imagine, for its waste of time and money. 

Those days the North country was a theatre of interest and renown. Its play was a tragedy; its setting the ancient wilderness; itspeople of all conditions from king to farm hand. Chateau andcabin, trail and forest road, soldier and civilian, lake and river, now moonlit, now sunlit, now under ice and white with snow, were ofthe shifting scenes in that play. Sometimes the stage was overrunwith cavalry and noisy with the clang of steel and the roar of thecarronade. 

The most important episodes herein are of history, --so romantic wasthe life of that time and region. The marriage is almost literallya matter of record. 

A good part of the author's life has been spent among the childrenof those old raiders--Yankee and Canadian--of the north and southshores of the big river. Many a tale of the camp and the nightride he has heard in the firelight of a winter's evening; longfamiliar to him are the ruins of a rustic life more splendid in itsday than any north of Virginia. So his color is not all of books, but of inheritance and of memory as well. 

The purpose of this tale is to extend acquaintance with the plainpeople who sweat and bled and limped and died for this Republic ofours. Darius, or "D'ri" as the woods folk called him, was apure-bred Yankee, quaint, rugged, wise, truthful; Ramon had thehardy traits of a Puritan father, softened by the more romantictemperament of a French mother. They had no more love of fightingthan they had need of it. 

CONTENTS

PREFACE

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII. XIV. XV. XVI. XVII. XVIII. XIX. XX. XXI. XXII. XXIII. XXIV. XXV. XXVI. XXVII. 

[Transcriber's Note: The chapters in the original text were numbered, but had no titles. ]

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

LOUISE

D'RI AND I

I COULD NOT TELL WHICH OF THE TWO GIRLS I LOVED THE BETTER

HE WOULD HAVE FOUGHT TO THE DEATH IF I HAD BUT GIVEN HIM WORD

"COME, NOW, MY PRETTY PRISONER"

"WE 'LL TEK CARE O' THE OL' BRIG"

WE WERE BOTH NEAR BREAKING DOWN

"THEN I LEAVE ALL FOR YOU"

INTRODUCTION

From a letter of Captain Darius Hawkins, U. S. A. , introducingRamon Bell to the Comte de Chaumont:--

"MY DEAR COUNT: I commend to your kind offices my young friendRamon Bell, the son of Captain Bell, a cavalry officer who long agowarmed his sword in the blood of the British on many abattle-field. The young man is himself a born soldier, as brave ashe is tall and handsome. He has been but a month in the army, yetI have not before seen a man who could handle horse and sword as ifthey were part of him. He is a gentleman, also, and one after yourown heart, I know, my dear count, you will do everything you can tofurther the work intrusted to him. 

 "Your obedient servant, "DARIUS HAWKINS. "

From a letter of Joseph Bonaparte, Comte de Survilliers, introducing his friend Colonel Ramon Bell to Napoleon III ofFrance:--

"He has had a career romantic and interesting beyond that of anyman I have met in America. In the late war with England he was themaster of many situations most perilous and difficult. The scarsof ten bullets and four sabre-thrusts are on his body. It gives megreat pleasure, my dear Louis, to make you to know one of the mostgallant and chivalrous of men. He has other claims upon yourinterest and hospitality, with which he will acquaint you in hisown delightful way. "

D'RI AND I

I

A poet may be a good companion, but, so far as I know, he is everthe worst of fathers. Even as grandfather he is too near, for onepoet can lay a streak of poverty over three generations. Doubt notI know whereof I speak, dear reader, for my mother's father was apoet--a French poet, too, whose lines had crossed the Atlantic longbefore that summer of 1770 when he came to Montreal. He diedthere, leaving only debts and those who had great need of a betterlegacy--my mother and grandmother. 

As to my father, he had none of that fatal folly in him. He was amountaineer of Vermont--a man of steely sinews that took well tothe grip of a sword. He cut his way to fame in the Northern armywhen the British came first to give us battle, and a bloody way itwas. I have now a faded letter from Ethan Allen, grim old warrior, in which he calls my father "the best swordsman that ever straddleda horse. " He was a "gallous chap" in his youth, so said mygrandmother, with a great love of good clothes and gunpowder. Hewent to Montreal, as a boy, to be educated; took lessons infencing, fought a duel, ran away from school, and came home withlittle learning and a wife. Punished by disinheritance, he took afarm, and left the plough to go into battle. 

I wonder often that my mother could put up with the stress andhardship of his life, for she had had gentle breeding, of which Iknew little until I was grown to manhood, when I came to know alsowhat a woman will do for the love of her heart. I remember wellthose tales of knights and ladies she used to tell me as we sattogether of an evening, and also those adventures of her ownknight, my good father, in the war with the British. My love ofarms and of a just quarrel began then. 

After the war came hard times. My father had not prosperedhandsomely, when, near the end of the summer of 1803, he sold hisfarm, and we all started West, over rough trails and roadways. There were seven of us, bound for the valley of the St. Lawrence--my father and mother, my two sisters, my grandmother, D'ri, the hired man, and myself, then a sturdy boy of ten. We hadan ox-team and -cart that carried our provision, the sacred featherbeds of my mother, and some few other things. 

[Illustration: D'Ri and I. ]

We drove with us the first flock of sheep that ever went West. There were forty of them, and they filled our days with trouble. But for our faithful dog Rover, I fear we should have lost heartand left them to the wild wolves. The cart had a low cover ofcanvas, and my mother and grandmother sat on the feather beds, androde with small comfort even where the roads were level. My fatherlet me carry my little pet rooster in a basket that hung from thecart-axle when not in my keeping. The rooster had a harder timethan any of us, I fancy, for the days were hot and the roads rough. He was always panting, with open mouth and thoughtful eye, when Ilifted the cover. But every day he gave us an example ofcheerfulness not wholly without effect. He crowed triumphantly, betimes, in the hot basket, even when he was being tumbled about onthe swamp ways. Nights I always found a perch for him on the limbof a near tree, above the reach of predatory creatures. Everymorning, as the dawn showed faintly in the tree-tops, he gave it alusty cheer, napping his wings with all the seeming of delight. Then, often, while the echo rang, I would open my eyes and watchthe light grow in . The dusky cavern of the woods. He would sitdozing awhile after the first outbreak, and presently as the floodof light grew clearer, lift himself a little, take another peep atthe sky, and crow again, turning his head to hear those weird, mocking roosters of the timber-land. Then, shortly, I would hearmy father poking the fire or saying, as he patted the rooster:"Sass 'em back, ye noisy little brat! Thet 's right: holler. TellD'ri it's time t' bring some wood fer the fire. "

In a few minutes the pot and kettle would be boiling and the campall astir. We had trout and partridge and venison a-plenty for ourmeals, that were served in dishes of tin. Breakfast over, wepacked our things. The cart went on ahead, my father bringing theoxen, while I started the sheep with D'ri. 

Those sheep were as many thorns in our flesh that day we made offin the deep woods from Lake Champlain. Travel was new to them, andwhat with tearing through thickets and running wild in every slash, they kept us jumping. When they were leg-weary and used to travel, they began to go quietly. But slow work it was at best, ten ortwelve miles a day being all we could do, for the weather was hotand our road like the way of the transgressor. Our second night inthe woods we could hear the wolves howling as we camped at dusk. We built our fire near the shore of a big pond, its still water, framed in the vivid green of young tamaracks. A great hill rose onthe farther side of it, with galleries of timber sloping to thesummit, and peopled with many birds. We huddled the sheep togetherin a place where the trees were thick, while father brought fromthe cart a coil of small rope. We wound it about the trees, so thesheep were shut in a little yard. After supper we all sat by thefire, while D'ri told how he had been chased by wolves in thebeaver country north of us. 

D'ri was an odd character. He had his own way of expressing thethree degrees of wonder, admiration, and surprise. "Jerushy!"--accented on the second syllable--was the positive, "Jerushy Jane!" the comparative, and "Jerushy Jane Pepper!" thesuperlative. Who that poor lady might be I often wondered, butnever ventured to inquire. In times of stress I have heard himswear by "Judas Priest, " but never more profanely. In his youth hehad been a sailor on the lake, when some artist of the needle hadtattooed a British jack on the back of his left hand--a thing hecovered, of shame now, when he thought of it. His right hand hadlost its forefinger in a sawmill. His rifle was distinguished bythe name of Beeswax, --"Ol' Beeswax" he called it sometimes, --for nobetter reason than that it was "easy spoke an' hed a kind uv apowerful soun' tew it. " He had a nose like a shoemaker's thumb:there was a deep incurve from its wide tip to his forehead. He hada large, gray, inquiring eye and the watchful habit of thewoodsman. Somewhere in the midst of a story he would pause andpeer thoughtfully into the distance, meanwhile feeling thepipe-stem with his lips, and then resume the narrative as suddenlyas he had stopped. He was a lank and powerful man, six feet tallin his stockings. He wore a thin beard that had the appearance ofparched grass on his ruddy countenance. In the matter of hair, nature had treated him with a generosity most unusual. His heavyshock was sheared off square above his neck. 

That evening, as he lay on his elbow in the firelight, D'ri hadjust entered the eventful field of reminiscence. The women werewashing the dishes; my father had gone to the spring for water. D'ri pulled up suddenly, lifted his hat of faded felt, andlistened, peering into the dusk. 

"Seems t' me them wolves is comin' nearer, " he said thoughtfully. 

Their cries were echoing in the far timber. We all rose andlistened. In a moment my father came hurrying back with his pailof water. 

"D'ri, " said he, quietly, as he threw some wood on the fire, "theysmell mutton. Mek the guns ready. We may git a few pelts. There's a big bounty on 'em here 'n York State. "

We all stood about the fire listening as the wolves came nearer. 

"It 's the sheep thet brings 'em, " said my father. 

"Quite a consid'able number on 'em, tew, " said D'ri, as he stoodcleaning the bore of his rifle. 

My young sisters began to cry. 

"Need n't be scairt, " said father. "They won't come very near. 'Fraider of us 'n we are o' 'em, a good deal. "

"Tow-w-w!" said D'ri, with a laugh. "They 'll be apt t' stub thertoes 'fore they git very nigh us. "

This did not quite agree with the tales he had previously beentelling. I went for my sword, and buckled its belt about me, thescabbard hanging to my heels. Presently some creature camebounding over the brush. I saw him break through the wall ofdarkness and stop quickly in the firelight. Then D'ri brought himdown with his rifle. 

"Started him up back there 'n the woods a few mild, " said D'ri. "He was mekin' fer this 'ere pond--thet 's what he was dewin'. "

"What for?" I inquired. 

"'Cause fer the reason why he knowed he would n't mek no tracks 'nthe water, ner no scent, " said D'ri, with some show of contempt formy ignorance. 

The deer lay floundering in the briers some fifty feet away. Myfather ran with his knife and put him quickly out of misery. Thenwe hauled the carcass to clear ground. 

"Let it lie where 't is fer now, " said he, as we came back to thefire. Then he got our two big traps out of the cart and set thembeside the carcass and covered them with leaves. The howling ofthe wolves had ceased. I could hear only the creaking of a deadlimb high above us, and the bellow of frogs in the near pond. Wehad fastened the trap chains and were coming back to the fire, whenthe dog rose, barking fiercely; then we heard the crack of D'ri'srifle. 

"More 'n fifty wolves eroun' here, " he whispered as we ran up tohim. "Never see sech a snag on 'em. "

The sheep were stirring nervously. Near the pen a wolf lay kickingwhere D'ri had dropped him. 

"Rest on 'em snooked off when the gun hollered, " he went on, whispering as before. 

My mother and grandmother sat with my sisters in the cart, hushingtheir murmurs of fear. Early in the evening I had tied Rover tothe cart-wheel, where he was growling hotly, impatient of the leash. 

"See?" said D'ri, pointing with his finger. "See 'em?--there 'nthe dark by thet air big hemlock. "

We could make out a dim stir in the shadows where he pointed. Presently we heard the spring and rattle of a trap. As we turnedthat way, the other trap took hold hard; as it sprang, we couldhear a wolf yelp. 

"Meks 'em holler, " said D'ri, "thet ol' he-trap does, when it teksholt. Stay here by the sheep, 'n' I 'll go over 'n' give 'emsomethin' fer spraint ankles. "

Other wolves were swarming over the dead deer, and the two in thetraps were snarling and snapping at them. My father and D'ri firedat the bunch, killing one of the captives and another--the largestwolf I ever saw. The pack had slunk away as they heard the rifles. Our remaining captive struggled to get free, but in a moment D'rihad brained him with an axe. He and my father reset our traps andhauled the dead wolves into the firelight. There they began toskin them, for the bounty was ten dollars for each in the newtowns--a sum that made our adventure profitable. I built fires onthe farther side of the sheep, and, as they brightened, I couldsee, here and there, the gleaming eyes of a wolf in the darkness. I was up all night heaping wood upon the fires, while D'ri and myfather skinned the wolves and dressed the deer. I remember, asthey worked, D'ri calmed himself with the low-sung, familiar musicof:--

 Li too rul I oorul I oorul I ay. 

They had just finished when the cock crew. 

"Holler, ye gol-dum little cuss!" D'ri shouted as he went over tohim. "Can't no snookin' wolf crack our bones fer _us_. Peeled'em--thet 's what we done tew 'em! Tuk 'n' knocked 'em head overheels. Judas Priest! He can peck a man's finger some, can't he?"

The light was coming, and he went off to the spring for water, while I brought the spider and pots. The great, green-roofedtemple of the woods, that had so lately rung with the howl ofwolves, began to fill with far wandering echoes of sweet song. 

"They was a big cat over there by the spring las' night, " saidD'ri, as we all sat down to breakfast. "Tracks bigger 'n agriddle! Smelt the mutton, mos' likely. "

"Like mutton?" I inquired. 

"Yis-sir-ee, they dew, " said he. "Kind o' mince-pie fer 'em. Likedeer-meat, tew. Snook eroun' the ponds efter dark. Ef they see adeer 'n the water they wallop 'im quicker 'n lightnin'; jump rightin k'slap 'n' tek 'im. "

We were off at sunrise, on a road that grew rougher every mile. Atnoon we came to a river so swollen as to make a dangerous ford. After dinner my father waded in, going hips under where the waterwas deep and swift. Then he cut a long pole and took my mother onhis shoulders and entered the broad stream, steadying himself withthe pole. When she had got down safe on the other side, he cameback for grandmother and my sisters, and took them over in the sameway. D'ri, meanwhile, bound up the feather beds and carried themon his head, leaving the dog and me to tend the sheep. All ourblankets and clothing were carried across in the same manner. ThenI mounted the cart, with my rooster, lashing the oxen till theytook to the stream. They had tied the bell-wether to the axle, and, as I started, men and dog drove the sheep after me. The oxenwallowed in the deep water, and our sheep, after some hesitation, began to swim. The big cart floated like a raft part of the way, and we landed with no great difficulty. Farther on, the roadbecame nothing better than a rude trail, where, frequently, we hadto stop and chop through heavy logs and roll them away. On a steephillside the oxen fell, breaking the tongue, and the cart tippedsidewise and rolled bottom up. My rooster was badly flung about, and began crowing and flapping as the basket settled. When Iopened it, he flew out, running for his life, as if finallyresolved to quit us. Fortunately, we were all walking, and nobodywas hurt. My father and D'ri were busy half a day "righting up, "as they called it, mending the tongue and cover, and getting thecart on its wheels and down the steep pitch. 

After two days of trail travel we came out on the Chateaugay road, stopping awhile to bait our sheep and cattle on the tame grass andtender briers. It was a great joy to see the clear road, with hereand there a settler's cabin, its yard aglow with the marigold, thehollyhock, and the fragrant honeysuckle. We got to the tavern atChateaugay about dusk, and put up for the night, as becomes aChristian. 

Next afternoon we came to rough roads again, camping at sundownalong the shore of a noisy brook. The dog began to bark fiercelywhile supper was making, and scurried off into a thicket. 

D'ri was stooping over, cooking the meat. He rose and listened. 

"Thet air dog's a leetle scairt, " said he. "Guess we better go 'n'see whut 's the matter. "

He took his rifle and I my sword, --I never thought of anotherweapon, --making off through the brush. The dog came whining toD'ri and rushing on, eager for us to follow. We hurried after him, and in a moment D'ri and the dog, who were ahead of me, haltedsuddenly. 

"It 's a painter, " said D'ri, as I came up. "See 'im in thet airtree-top. I 'll larrup 'im with Ol' Beeswax, then jes' like es nothe 'll mek some music. Better grab holt o' the dog. 'T won't dewfer 'im to git tew rambunctious, er the fust thing he knows hewon't hev no insides in 'im. "

I could see the big cat clinging high in the top boughs of a birchand looking calmly down at us. The tree-top swayed, quivering, asit held the great dun beast. My heart was like to smother me whenD'ri raised his rifle and took aim. The dog broke away at thecrack of it. The painter reeled and spat; then he came crashingthrough the branches, striking right and left with his fore paws tosave himself. He hit the ground heavily, and the dog was on him. The painter lay as if dead. Before I could get near, Rover beganshaking him by the neck. He came to suddenly, and struck the dogwith a front claw, dragging him down. A loud yelp followed theblow. Quick as a flash D'ri had caught the painter by the tail andone hind leg. With a quick surge of his great, slouchingshoulders, he flung him at arm's-length. The lithe body doubled ona tree trunk, quivered, and sank down, as the dog came free. In ajiffy I had run my sword through the cat's belly and made an end ofhim. 

"Knew 'f he got them hind hooks on thet air dog he 'd rake his ribsright off, " said D'ri, as he lifted his hat to scratch his head. "Would n't 'a' left nothin' but the backbone, --nut a thing, --an'thet would n't 'a' been a real fust-class one, nuther. "

When D'ri was very positive, his words were well braced withnegatives. 

We took the painter by the hind legs and dragged him through thebushes to our camp. The dog had a great rip across his shoulder, where the claws had struck and made furrows; but he felt a mightypride in our capture, and never had a better appetite for a meal. 

There were six more days of travel in that journey--travel sofraught with hardships, I wonder that some days we had the heart topress on. More than all, I wonder that the frail body of my motherwas equal to it. But I am writing no vain record of endurance. Ihave written enough to suggest what moving meant in the wilderness. There is but one more color in the scenes of that journey. Thefourth day after we left Chateaugay my grandmother fell ill anddied suddenly there in the deep woods. We were far from anyvillage, and sorrow slowed our steps. We pushed on, coming soon toa sawmill and a small settlement. They told us there was neitherminister nor undertaker within forty miles. My father and D'rimade the coffin of planed lumber, and lined it with deerskin, anddug the grave on top of a high hill. When all was ready, myfather, who had always been much given to profanity, albeit I knowhe was a kindly and honest man with no irreverence in his heart, called D'ri aside. 

"D'ri, " said he, "ye 've alwus been more proper-spoken than I hev. Say a word o' prayer?"

"Don't much b'lieve I could, " said he, thoughtfully. "I hev beent' meeting but I hain't never been no great hand fer prayin'. "

"'T wouldn't sound right nohow, fer me t' pray, " said my father, "Igot s' kind o' rough when I was in the army. "

"'Fraid it 'll come a leetle unhandy fer me, " said D'ri, with alook of embarrassment, "but I don't never shirk a tough job ef ithes t' be done. "

Then he stepped forward, took off his faded hat, his brow wrinklingdeep, and said, in a drawling preacher tone that had no sound ofD'ri in it: "O God, tek care o' gran'ma. Help us t' go on careful, an' when we 're riled, help us t' keep er mouths shet. O God, helpthe ol' cart, an' the ex in pertic'lar. An' don't be noway hard onus. Amen. "

II

June was half over when we came to our new home in the town ofMadrid--then a home only for the foxes and the fowls of the air andtheir wild kin of the forest. The road ran through a little valleythick with timber and rock-bound on the north. There were fourfamilies within a mile of us, all comfortably settled in small loghouses. For temporary use we built a rude bark shanty that had apartition of blankets, living in this primitive manner until myfather and D'ri had felled the timber and built a log house. Webrought flour from Malone, --a dozen sacks or more, --and while theywere building, I had to supply my mother with fish and game andberries for the table--a thing easy enough to do in that land ofplenty. When the logs were cut and hewn I went away, horseback, toCanton for a jug of rum. I was all day and half the night goingand coming, and fording the Grasse took me stirrups under. 

Then the neighbors came to the raising--a jolly company thatshouted "Hee, oh, hee!" as they lifted each heavy log to its place, and grew noisier quaffing the odorous red rum, that had a mightygood look to me, although my father would not hear of my tastingit. When it was all over, there was nothing to pay but ourgratitude. 

While they were building bunks, I went off to sawmill with the oxenfor boards and shingles. Then, shortly, we had a roof over us, andfloors to walk on, and that luxury D'ri called a "pyaz, " althoughit was not more than a mere shelf with a roof over it. We chinkedthe logs with moss and clay at first, putting up greased paper inthe window spaces. For months we knew not the luxury of the glasspane. 

That summer we "changed work" with the neighbors, and after we hadhelped them awhile they turned to in the clearing of our farm. Wefelled the trees in long, bushy windrows, heaping them up withbrush and small wood when the chopping was over. That done, wefired the rows, filling the deep of heaven with smoke, as it seemedto me, and lighting the night with great billows of flame. 

By mid-autumn we had cleared to the stumps a strip half down thevalley from our door. Then we turned to on the land of ourneighbors, my time counting half, for I was sturdy and could swingthe axe to a line, and felt a joy in seeing the chips fly. But myfather kept an eye on me, and held me back as with a leash, My mother was often sorely tried for the lack of things common asdirt these better days. Frequently our only baking-powder waswhite lye, made by dropping ash-cinders into wafer. Our cinderswere made by letting the sap of green timber drip into hot ashes. Often deer's tallow, bear's grease, or raccoon's oil served forshortening, and the leaves of the wild raspberry for tea. Ourneighbors went to mill at Canton--a journey of five days, going andcoming, with an ox-team, and beset with many difficulties. Thenone of them hollowed the top of a stump for his mortar and tied hispestle to the bough of a tree. With a rope he drew the bough down, which, as it sprang back, lifted the pestle that ground his grain. 

But money was the rarest of all things in our neighborhood thosedays. Pearlash, black-salts, West India pipe-staves, and rafts oftimber brought cash, but no other products of the early settler. Late that fall my mother gave a dance, a rude but hearty pleasuringthat followed a long conference in which my father had a part. They all agreed to turn to, after snowfall, on the river-land, cuta raft of timber, and send it to Montreal in the spring. Ourthings had come, including D'ri's fiddle, so that we had chairs andbedsteads and other accessories of life not common among ourneighbors. My mother had a few jewels and some fine old furniturethat her father had given her, --really beautiful things, I havesince come to know, --and she showed them to those simple folk witha mighty pride in her eyes. 

Business over, D'ri took down his fiddle, that hung on the wall, and made the strings roar as he tuned them. Then he threw his longright leg over the other, and, as be drew the bow, his big footbegan to pat the floor a good pace away. His chin lifted, hisfingers flew, his bow quickened, the notes seemed to whirl andscurry, light-footed as a rout of fairies. Meanwhile the toe ofhis right boot counted the increasing tempo until it came up anddown like a ratchet. 

Darius Olin was mostly of a slow and sober manner. To cross hislegs and feel a fiddle seemed to throw his heart open and put himin full gear. Then his thoughts were quick, his eyes merry, hisheart was a fountain of joy. He would lean forward, swaying hishead, and shouting "Yip!" as the bow hurried. D'ri was ahard-working man, but the feel of the fiddle warmed and limberedhim from toe to finger. He was over-modest, making light of hisskill if he ever spoke of it, and had no ear for a compliment. While our elders were dancing, I and others of my age were playinggames in the kitchen--kissing-games with a rush and tumble in them, puss-in-the-corner, hunt-the-squirrel, and the like. Even then Ithought I was in love with pretty Rose Merriman. She would neverlet me kiss her, even though I had caught her and had the right. This roundelay, sung while one was in the centre of a circlinggroup, ready to grab at the last word, brings back to me the sweetfaces, the bright eyes, the merry laughter of that night and otherslike it:

 Oh, hap-py is th' mil-ler who lives by him-self! As th' wheel gos round, he gath-ers in 'is wealth, One hand on the hop-per and the oth-er on the bag; As the wheel goes round, he cries out, "Grab!" Oh, ain't you a lit-tle bit a-shamed o' this, Oh, ain't you a lit-tle bit a-sham'd o' this, Oh, ain't you a lit-tle bit a-sham'd o' this--To stay all night for one sweet kiss? Oh, etc. 

[Transcriber's note: A Lilypond (www. Lilypond. Org) rendition ofthis song is at the end of this e-book. ]

My mother gave me all the schooling I had that winter. A yearlater they built a schoolhouse, not quite a mile away, where Ifound more fun than learning. After two years I shouldered my axeand went to the river-land with the choppers every winter morning. 

My father was stronger than any of them except D'ri, who coulddrive his axe to the bit every blow, day after day. He had thestrength of a giant, and no man I knew tried ever to cope with him. By the middle of May we began rolling in for the raft. As soon asthey were floating, the logs were withed together and moored insections. The bay became presently a quaking, redolent plain oftimber. 

When we started the raft, early in June, that summer of 1810, andworked it into the broad river with sweeps and poles, I was aboardwith D'ri and six other men, bound for the big city of which I hadheard so much. I was to visit the relatives of my mother and spenda year in the College de St. Pierre. We had a little frame houseon a big platform, back of the middle section of the raft, withbunks in it, where we ate and slept and told stories. Lying on theplatform, there was a large flat stone that held our fires for bothcooking and comfort. D'ri called me in the dusk of the earlymorning, the first night out, and said we were near the Sault. Igot up, rubbed my eyes, and felt a mighty thrill as I heard theroar of the great rapids and the creaking withes, and felt the liftof the speeding water. D'ri said they had broken the raft intothree parts, ours being hindmost. The roaring grew louder, untilmy shout was as a whisper in a hurricane. The logs began to heaveand fall, and waves came rushing through them. Sheets of sprayshot skyward, coming down like a shower. We were shaken as by anearthquake in the rough water. Then the roar fell back of us, andthe raft grew steady. 

"Gin us a tough twist, " said D'ri, shouting down at me--"kind uv atwist o' the bit 'n' a kick 'n the side. "

It was coming daylight as we sailed into still water, and then D'riput his hands to his mouth and hailed loudly, getting an answer outof the gloom ahead. 

"Gol-dum ef it hain't the power uv a thousan' painters!" D'ricontinued, laughing as he spoke. "Never see nothin' jump 'n' kick'n' spit like thet air, 'less it hed fur on--never 'n all my borndays. "

D'ri's sober face showed dimly now in the dawn. His hands were onhis hips; his faded felt hat was tipped sideways. His boots andtrousers were quarrelling over that disputed territory between hisknees and ankles. His boots had checked the invasion. 

"Smooth water now, " said he, thoughtfully, "Seems terrible still. Hain't a breath uv air stirrin'. Jerushy Jane Pepper! Wha' doesthet mean?"

He stepped aside quickly as some bits of bark and a small bough ofhemlock fell at our feet. Then a shower of pine needles cameslowly down, scattering over us and hitting the timber with a fainthiss. Before we could look up, a dry stick as long as a log fellrattling on the platform. 

"Never see no sech dom's afore, " said D'ri, looking upward. "Things don't seem t' me t' be actin' eggzac'ly nat'ral--nut jestes I 'd like t' see 'em. "

As the light came clearer, we saw clouds heaped black and blue overthe tree-tops in the southwest. We stood a moment looking. Theclouds were heaping higher, pulsing with light, roaring withthunder. What seemed to be a flock of pigeons rose suddenly abovethe far forest, and then fell as if they had all been shot. A gustof wind coasted down the still ether, fluttering like a rag andshaking out a few drops of rain. 

"Look there!" I shouted, pointing aloft. 

"Hark!" said D'ri, sharply, raising his hand of three fingers. 

We could hear a far sound like that of a great wagon rumbling on astony road. 

"The Almighty 's whippin' his hosses, " said D'ri. "Looks es ef hewus plungin' 'em through the woods 'way yender. Look a' thet airsky. "

The cloud-masses were looming rapidly. They had a glow like thatof copper. 

"Tryin' t' put a ruf on the world, " my companion shouted. "Swingin' ther hammers hard on the rivets. "

A little peak of green vapor showed above the sky-line. It loomedhigh as we looked. It grew into a lofty column, reeling far abovethe forest. Below it we could see a mighty heaving in thetree-tops. Something like an immense bird was hurtling andpirouetting in the air above them. The tower of green looked nowlike a great flaring bucket hooped with fire and overflowing withdarkness. Our ears were full of a mighty voice out of the heavens. A wind came roaring down some tideway of the air like water in aflume. It seemed to tap the sky. Before I could gather mythoughts we were in a torrent of rushing air, and the raft hadbegun to heave and toss. I felt D'ri take my hand in his. I couldjust see his face, for the morning had turned dark suddenly. Hislips were moving, but I could hear nothing he said. Then he layflat, pulling me down. Above and around were all the noises thatever came to the ear of man--the beating of drums, the bellowing ofcattle, the crash of falling trees, the shriek of women, the rattleof machinery, the roar of waters, the crack of rifles, the blowingof trumpets, the braying of asses, and sounds the like of which Ihave never heard and pray God I may not hear again, one and thenanother dominating the mighty chorus. Behind us, in the gloom, Icould see, or thought I could see, the reeling mass of greenploughing the water, like a ship with chains of gold flashing overbulwarks of fire. In a moment something happened of which I havenever had any definite notion. I felt the strong arm of D'riclasping me tightly. I heard the thump and roll and rattle of thelogs heaping above us; I felt the water washing over me; but Icould see nothing. I knew the raft had doubled; it would fall andgrind our bones: but I made no effort to save myself. And thinkinghow helpless I felt is the last I remember of the great windfall ofJune 3, 1810, the path of which may be seen now, fifty years afterthat memorable day, and I suppose it will be visible long after mybones have crumbled. I thought I had been sleeping when I came to;at least, I had dreamed. I was in some place where it was dark andstill. I could hear nothing but the drip of water; I could feelthe arm of D'ri about me, and I called to him, and then I felt himstir. 

"Thet you, Ray?" said he, lifting his head. 

"Yes, " I answered. "Where are we?"

"Judas Priest! I ain' no idee. Jes' woke up. Been a-layin' heretryin' t' think. Ye hurt?"

"Guess not, " said I. 

"Ain't ye got no pains or aches nowhere 'n yer body?"

"Head aches a little, " said I. 

He rose to his elbow, and made a light with his flint and tinder, and looked at me. 

"Got a goose-egg on yer for'ard, " said he, and then I saw there wasblood on his face. 

"Ef it hed n't been fer the withes they 'd 'a' ground us t' powder. "

We were lying alongside the little house, and the logs were leaningto it above us. 

"Jerushy Jane Pepper!" D'ri exclaimed, rising to his knees. "'Swhut I call a twister. "

He began to whittle a piece of the splintered platform. Then helit a shaving. 

"They 's ground here, " said he, as he began to kindle a fire, "ground a-plenty right under us. "

The firelight gave us a good look at our cave under the logs. Itwas about ten feet long and probably half as high. The logs hadcrashed through the side of the house in one or two places, and itsroof was a wreck. 

"Hungry?" said D'ri, as he broke a piece of board on his knee. 

"Yes, " I answered. 

"So 'm I, " said he, "hungrier 'n a she-wolf. They 's some bread'n' ven'son there 'n the house; we better try t' git 'em. "

An opening under the logs let me around the house corner to itsdoor. I was able to work my way through the latter, although itwas choked with heavy timbers. Inside I could hear the wash of theriver, and through its shattered window on the farther wall I couldsee between the heaped logs a glow of sunlit water. I handed ouraxe through a break in the wall, and then D'ri cut away some of thebaseboards and joined me. We had our meal cooking in a fewminutes--our dinner, really, for D'ri said it was near noon. Having eaten, we crawled out of the window, and then D'ri began topry the logs apart. 

"Ain't much 'fraid o' their tumblin' on us, " said he. "They 'rewithed so they 'll stick together. "

We got to another cave under the logs, at the water's edge, afteran hour of crawling and prying. A side of the raft was in thewater. 

"Got t' dive, " said D'ri, "an' swim fer daylight. "

A long swim it was, but we came up in clear water, badly out ofbreath. We swam around the timber, scrambling over a dead cow, andup-shore. The ruined raft was torn and tumbled into a verymountain of logs at the edge of the water. The sun was shiningclear, and the air was still. Limbs of trees, bits of torn cloth, a broken hay-rake, fragments of wool, a wagon-wheel, and two deadsheep were scattered along the shore. Where we had seen thewhirlwind coming, the sky was clear, and beneath it was a great gapin the woods, with ragged walls of evergreen. Here and there inthe gap a stub was standing, trunk and limbs naked. 

"Jerushy Jane Pepper!" D'ri exclaimed, with a pause after eachword. "It's cut a swath wider 'n this river. Don't b'lieve amouse could 'a' lived where the timber 's down over there. "

Our sweepers and the other sections of the raft were nowhere insight. 

III

We left the logs, and walked to Cornwall, and took a sloop down theriver. It was an American boat, bound for Quebec withpipe-staves. It had put in at Cornwall when the storm began. Thecaptain said that the other sections of our raft had passed safely. In the dusk of the early evening a British schooner brought us to. 

"Wonder what that means?" said the skipper, straining his eyes inthe dusk, A small boat, with three officers, came along-side. They climbedaboard, one of them carrying a lantern. They were armed withswords and pistols. We sat in silence around the cockpit. Theyscanned each of us carefully in the light of the lantern. Itstruck me as odd they should look so closely at our hands. 

"Wha' d' ye want?" the skipper demanded. "This man, " said one ofthem, pointing to D'ri. "He's a British sailor. We arrest him--"

He got no farther. D'ri's hand had gone out like the paw of apainter and sent him across the cockpit. Before I knew what wasup, I saw the lank body of D'ri leaping backward into the river. Iheard a splash and a stroke of his long arms, and then all wasstill. I knew he was swimming under water to get away. Theofficers made for their boat. My blood was up, and I sprang at thelast of them, giving him a hard shove as he was climbing over, sothat he fell on the boat, upsetting it. They had business enoughthen for a little, and began hailing for help. I knew I had done afoolish thing, and ran forward, climbing out upon the bowsprit, andoff with my coat and vest, and dived into the dark water. I swamunder as long as I could hold my breath, and then came up quietly, turning on my back in the quick current, and floating so my faceonly was above water. It had grown dark, and I could see nothingbut the glimmer of the stars above me. My boots were heavy anddragged hard. I was going fast with the swift water, for at firstI had heard a great hubbub on the schooner; but now its voices hadgrown faint. Other sounds were filling my ear. 

After dark it is weird business to be swimming in strangewater--the throne of mystery, of a thousand terrors. It is as ifone's grave, full of the blackness of the undiscovered country, were pursuing him and ever yawning beneath his body. And that bigriver is the very tiger of waters, now stealing on pussy-footed, now rushing with cat-like swiftness, hissing and striking withcurrents that have in them mighty sinews. I was now companion ofthose cold-mouthed monsters of the river bottom, many of which Ihad seen. What if one should lay hold on me and drag me under?Then I thought of rapids that might smother me with their spray ordash me to hidden rocks. Often I lifted my ears, marvelling at themany voices of the river. Sometimes I thought I heard a roaringlike that of the Sault, but it was only a ripple growing intofleecy waves that rocked me as in a cradle. The many sounds wereabove, below, and beside me, some weird and hollow and unearthly. I could hear rocks rolling over in their sleep on the bottom, and, when the water was still, a sound like the cropping of lily-padsaway off on the river-margin. The bellowing of a cow terrified meas it boomed over the sounding sheet of water. The river rang likea mighty drum when a peal of far thunder beat upon it. I put outmy hands to take a stroke or two as I lay on my back, and feltsomething floating under water. The feel of it filled me withhorror. I swam faster; it was at my heels. I knew full well whatmy hand had touched--a human head floating face downward: I couldfeel the hair in my fingers. I turned and swam hard, but still itfollowed me. My knees hit upon it, and then my feet. Again andagain I could feel it as I kicked. Its hand seemed to be clutchingmy trousers. I thought I should never get clear of the ghastlything. I remember wondering if it were the body of poor D'ri. Iturned aside, swimming another way, and then I felt it no more. 

In the dead of the night I heard suddenly a kind of throbbing inthe breast of the river. It grew to a noisy heart-beat as Ilistened. Again and again I heard it, striking, plashing, like afootfall, and coming nearer. Somehow I got the notion of a giant, like those of whom my mother had told me long ago, striding in thedeep river. I could hear his boots dripping as he lifted them. Igot an odd fear that he would step on me. Then I heard music andlifted my ears above water. It was a voice singing in thedistance, --it must have been a mile off, --and what I had taken fora near footfall shrank away. I knew now it was the beat of oars insome far bay. 

A long time after I had ceased to hear it, something touched myshoulder and put me in a panic. Turning over, I got a big mouthfulof water. Then I saw it was a gang of logs passing me, and quicklycaught one. Now, to me the top side of a log was as easy andfamiliar as a rocking-chair. In a moment I was sitting comfortablyon my captive. A bit of rubbish, like that the wind had sown, trailed after the gang of logs, I felt it over, finding a straw hatand a piece of board some three feet long, with which latter Ipaddled vigorously. 

It must have been long past midnight when I came to an islandlooming in the dark ahead. I sculled for it, stranding on a rockybeach, and alighted, hauling the log ashore. The moon came out asI stood wringing my trouser legs. I saw the island rose high andnarrow and was thickly wooded. I remember saying something tomyself, when I heard a quick stir in the bushes near me. Lookingup, I saw a tall figure. Then came a familiar voice:--

"Thet you, Ray? Judas Priest!"

I was filled with joy at the sight of D'ri, and put my arms abouthim and lifted him off his feet, and, faith! I know my eyes werewet as my trousers. Then, as we sat down, I told him how I hadtaken to the river. 

"Lucky ye done it!" said he. "Jerushy Jane! It is terrible lucky!They 'd 'a' tuk ye sartin. Somebody see thet jack on the back o'my hand, there 'n Cornwall, 'n' put 'em efter me. But I was bound'n' detarmined they 'd never tek me alive, never! Ef I ever dewany fightin', 't ain't a-goin' t' be fer England, nut by a side o'sole-leather. I med up my mind I 'd begin the war right then an'there. "

"That fellow never knew what hit him, " I remarked. "He did n't getup for half a minute. "

"Must 'a' swatted 'im powerful, " said D'ri, as he felt hisknuckles. "Gol-dum ther picturs! Go 'n' try t' yank a man rightoff a boat like thet air when they hain' no right t' tech 'im. EfI 'd 'a' hed Ol' Beeswax, some on 'em 'd 'a' got hurt. "

"How did you get here?" I inquired. 

"Swum, " said he. "Could n't go nowheres else. Current fetched mehere. Splits et the head o' the island--boun' ter land ye righthere. Got t' be movin'. They 'll be efter us, mebbe--'s the fustplace they 'd look. "

A few logs were stranded on the stony point of the island. Wewithed three others to mine, setting sail with two bits ofdriftwood for paddles. We pulled for the south shore, but thecurrent carried us rapidly down-river. In a bay some two milesbelow we found, to our joy, the two sections of the big raftundergoing repairs. At daybreak D'ri put off in the woods for home. 

"Don't like the idee o' goin' int' the British navy, " said he. "'Druther chop wood 'n' ketch bears over 'n St. Lawrence County. Good-by, Ray! Tek care o' yerself. "

Those were the last words he said to me, and soon I was on the raftagain, floating toward the great city of my dreams. I had a mightyfear the schooner would overhaul us, but saw nothing more of her. I got new clothes in Montreal, presenting myself in good repair. They gave me hearty welcome, those good friends of my mother, and Ispent a full year in the college, although, to be frank, I was nearbeing sent home more than once for fighting and other deviltry. 

It was midsummer when I came back again. I travelled up the riverroad, past our island refuge of that dark night; past the sweeping, low-voiced currents that bore me up; past the scene of our wreck inthe whirlwind; past the great gap in the woods, to stand open Godknows how long. I was glad to turn my face to the south shore, forin Canada there was now a cold welcome for most Yankees, and myfists were sore with resenting the bitter taunt. I crossed in aboat from Iroquois, and D'ri had been waiting for me half a day atthe landing. I was never so glad to see a man--never but once. Walking home I saw corn growing where the forest had been--acres ofit. 

"D'ri, " said I, in amazement, "how did you ever do it? There 'sten years' work here. "

"God helped us, " said he, soberly. "The trees went over 'n thewindfall, --slammed 'em down luk tenpins fer a mild er more, --an' wejes' burnt up the rubbish. "

IV

April was near its end. The hills were turning green, albeit wecould see, here and there on the high ledge above us, littlepatches of snow--the fading footprints of winter. Day and night wecould hear the wings of the wild fowl roaring in the upper air asthey flew northward. Summer was coming, --the summer of 1812, --andthe war with the British. The President had called for a hundredthousand volunteers to go into training for battle. He had alsoproclaimed there would be no more whipping in the ranks. Then myfather told me that, since I could have no peace at home, I shouldbe off to the war and done with it. 

We were working near the road that day Thurst Miles came gallopingout of the woods, waving his cap at us. We ran to meet him--myfather and I and the children. He pulled up a moment, his horselathered to the ears. 

"Injuns!" he shouted. "Git out o' here quick 'n' mek fer theCorners! Ye 'll be all massacreed ef ye don't. "

Then he whacked the wet flank of his horse with a worn beech bough, and off he went. 

We ran to the house in a great panic. I shall never forget thecrying of the children. Indians had long been the favorite bugbearof the border country. Many a winter's evening we had sat in thefirelight, fear-faced, as my father told of the slaughter in CherryValley; and, with the certainty of war, we all looked for the redhordes of Canada to come, in paint and feathers. 

"Ray, " my father called to me, as he ran, "ketch the cow quick an'bring 'er 'long. "

I caught her by the horn and brought her to the door quickly. Mother was throwing some clothes into a big bundle. Father met mewith a feather bed in his arms. He threw it over the back of thecow and bound it on with a bed-cord. That done, he gave me theleading-rope to tie about her horns. The hoofs of the flying horsewere hardly out of hearing when we were all in the road. My mothercarried the baby, and my father his sword and rifle and one of thelittle ones. I took the three older children and set them on thefeather bed that was bound to the back of the cow. They clung tothe bed-cord, their hair flying, as the old cow ran to keep up withus, for at first we were all running. In a moment we could hearthe voices of people coming behind. One of the women was weepingloudly as she ran. At the first cross-road we saw Arv Law and hisfamily coming, in as great a hurry as we, Arv had a great pike-polein his hand. Its upper end rose twenty feet above his head. 

"What ye goin' t' dew with thet?" my father asked him. 

"Goin' t' run it through the fust Injun I see, " said he. "I 'vebroke the lock o' my gun. "

There was a crowd at Jerusalem Four Corners when we got there. Every moment some family was arriving in a panic--the men, like myfather, with guns and babies and baskets. The women, with theyoung, took refuge at once in the tavern, while the men surroundedit. Inside the line were youths, some oddly armed with slings orclubs or cross-guns. I had only the sword my father gave me and amighty longing to use it. Arv Law rested an end of his pike-poleand stood looking anxiously for "red devils" among the stumps ofthe farther clearing. An old flint-lock, on the shoulder of a manbeside him, had a barrel half as long as the pole. David Churchwas equipped with axe and gun, that stood at rest on either side ofhim. 

Evening came, and no sign of Indians. While it was growing dusk Iborrowed a pail of the innkeeper and milked the cow, and broughtthe pail, heaped with froth, to my mother, who passed brimming cupsof milk among the children. As night fell, we boys, more daringthan our fathers, crept to the edge of the timber and set the bigbrush-heaps afire, and scurried back with the fear of redmen at ourheels. The men were now sitting in easy attitudes and had begun totalk. 

"Don't b'lieve there's no Injuns comin', " said Bill Foster. "Efthey wus they 'd come. "

"'Cordin' t' my observation, " said Arv Law, looking up at the sky, "Injuns mos' gen'ally comes when they git ready. "

"An' 't ain't when yer ready t' hev 'em, nuther, " said LonButterfield. 

"B'lieve they come up 'n' peeked out o' the bushes 'n' see Arv withthet air pike-pole, 'n' med up their minds they hed n't better runup ag'in' it, " said Bill Foster. "Scairt 'em--thet's whut's th'matter. "

"Man 'et meks light o' this pole oughter hev t' carry it, " saidArv, as he sat impassively resting it upon his knee. 

"One things sure, " said Foster; "ef Arv sh'u'd cuff an Injun withthet air he 'll squ'sh 'im. "

"Squ'sh 'im!" said Arv, with a look of disgust. "'T ain't med t'squ'sh with, I cal'late t' p'int it at 'em 'n' jab. "

And so, as the evening wore away and sleep hushed the timid, abetter feeling came over us. I sat by Rose Merriman on the steps, and we had no thought of Indians. I was looking into her big hazeleyes, shining in the firelight, and thinking how beautiful she was. And she, too, was looking into my eyes, while we whisperedtogether, and the sly minx read my thoughts, I know, by the look ofher. 

Great flames were now leaping high as the timber-tops at the edgeof the clearing. A dead spruce caught fire as we were looking. The flames threw over it a lacy, shimmering, crackling net of gold. Then suddenly it burst into a red, leaping tower. A few moments, and the cavern of the woods, along the timber side, was choked withfire. The little hamlet had become a spring of light in thedarkness. We could see the stumps and houses far afield, as if ithad been noonday. Suddenly we all jumped to our feet. A wild yellcame echoing through the woods. 

"There they be!" said Asher Eastman, as he cocked his gun. "I tol'ye so. "

As a matter of fact, he had told us nothing of the kind. He wasthe one man who had said nothing. 

Arv Law stood erect, his pike-pole poised in both hands, and wewere all ready for action. We could hear the rattle of many hoofson the road. As soon as the column showed in the firelight, BillFoster up with his musket and pulled the trigger. I could hear theshot scatter on stump and stone. Every man had his gun to his eye. 

"Wait till they come nearer, " said Asher Eastman. 

The Indians had halted. Far behind them we could hear the wildhallooing of many voices. In a moment we could see those onhorseback go galloping off in the direction whence they had come. Back in the house a number of the women were praying. My mothercame out, her face whiter than I had ever seen it before, andwalked to my father, and kissed him without ever saying a word. Then she went back into the house. 

"Scairt?" I inquired, turning to Rose, who now stood beside me. 

"I should think I was, " she whispered. "I 'm all of a tremble. "

"If anything happens, I 'd like something to remember you by. "

"What?" she whispered. 

I looked at her beautiful red lips. She had never let me kiss them. 

"A kiss, if nothing more, " I answered. 

She gave me a kiss then that told me something of what was in herheart, and went away into the house. 

"Goin' t' surround us, " said Arv Law--"thet 's whut 's th' matter. "

"Mus' be ready t' rassle 'em any minute, " said Asher Eastman, as hesidled over to a little group. 

A young man came out of the house and took his place in line with abig squirt-gun and a pail of steaming-hot water. 

The night wore on; our fires burned low. As the approaching daybegan to light the clearing, we heard a sound that brought us allto our feet. A burst of bugle notes went chasing over thetimber-land to the tune of "Yankee Doodle. " We looked at oneanother in surprise. Then there came a thunder of hoofs in thedistance, the ragged outline of a troop of cavalry. 

"Soldiers!" said Arv, as he raised his pike. 

"The British?" somebody asked. 

"Dunno, " said he. "Ain' no Injuns, I don't b'lieve. "

A troop of cavalry was approaching at a gallop. They pulled up afew rods away and jammed into a big crescent of rearing, tramplinghorses. We could see they were American soldiers. We all loweredour guns. 

"Who are you?" one of them shouted. 

"Citizens, " my father answered. 

"Why are you armed?"

"To fight Injuns. "

A chorus of laughter came from the cavalry. 

They loosed rein, letting their horses advance. 

"My dear man, " said one of them, a big shako on his head, "thereain't an Indian 'tween here an' St. Regis. We thought you wereBritish, an' it's lucky we did n't charge in the dark; we 'd havecut you all to pieces before we knew who you were, "

A body of infantry was marching down the pike. They were thevolunteers of Captain Darius Hawkins, on their way to Ogdensburg, with an escort of cavalry from Sackett's Harbor. The scare wasover. Women came out, laughing and chattering. In a few momentsthey were all in the road, going home--men, women, and children. 

I enlisted with Captain Hawkins, and hurried to the house, andpacked my things, and bade them all good-by. 

V

I followed the camp and took my place in the ranks at Ogdensburg. We went immediately into barracks--a structure long and low andweather-stained, overlooking the St. Lawrence. There was a finelevel field in front of it, and a flag waving at the top of a highstaff. The men cheered lustily that afternoon as they passed it, where stood General Jacob Brown, his cocked hat in his hand--asplendid figure of a man, My delight in the life of a soldier beganthat hour, and has never left me. 

There was a lot of horse-play that night, in which some of thegreen boys were roughly handled. They told me, I remember, thatall new recruits had to fight a duel; but when they gave me thechoice of weapons I was well content. I had the sure eye of myfather, and the last time I had fenced with him, there at home, hesaid my arm was stronger and quicker than his had ever been. Indeed, I was no sooner tall enough to swing a sword than he beganteaching me how to use it. In the wood back of the barracks thatnight, they learned I was not a man to be fooled with. The tallsergeant who stood before me saw his sword go flying in the gloomthe second thrust he made at me, and ran for his life, amid roarsof laughter. I had no lack of friends after that day. 

It was a year of surprises in the Northern army, and D'ri was thegreatest of all. That long, wiry, sober-faced Yankee conquered thesmartness of the new camp in one decisive and immortal victory. Atfirst they were disposed to poke fun at him. 

"Looks a little tired, " said the sergeant of the guard. 

"Needs rest--that's what's matter o' him, " said the captain. 

"Orter be turned out t' grass a leetle while, " the adjutantsuggested. 

The compliments he failed to hear soon came to him indirectly, andhe had much to put up with. He kept his temper and smokedthoughtfully, and took it ail in good part. The night after hecame they put him on guard duty--a greenhorn, with no knowledge ofany orders but gee and haw. They told him he should allow nobodyto pass him while on duty, but omitted to mention the countersign. They instructed him in the serious nature of his task, adding thathis failure to comply with orders would incur the penalty of death. D'ri looked very sober as he listened. No man ever felt a keenersense of responsibility. They intended, I think, to cross thelines and take his gun away and have fun with him, but thecountersign would have interfered with their plans. 

D'ri went to his post a little after sundown. The guard wasposted. The sergeant, with his party of six, started back to theguard-house, but they never got there. They went as far as D'ri. He stood with his gun raised. 

"Come another step, " said he, "an' I'll let the moonlight throughye. "

They knew he meant it, and they stood still. 

"Come for'ard--one et a time, " said D'ri, "Drop yer guns 'n' setdown. Ye look tired. "

They did as he commanded, for they could see he meant business, andthey knew he had the right to kill. 

Another man came along shortly. 

"Halt! Who comes there?" D'ri demanded, "Friend with the countersign, " he replied. 

"Can't fool me, " said D'ri. "Come up here 'n' set down 'n' mekyerself t' hum. Drop yer gun fust. Drop it, er I 'll drop you. "

He dropped his gun promptly and accepted the invitation to sitdown. This last man had some arguments to offer, but D'ri stoodsternly and made no reply. 

At eleven o'clock Captain Hawkins sent out inquiries for thesergeant of the guard and his relief. He could find nobody who hadseen them since dark. A corporal was also missing. The captainsent a man to look for them. He got as far as D'ri and sat down. They waited for him in vain. The captain stood looking into thedarkness and wondering about his men. He conferred with AdjutantChurch. Then he set out with two men to go the rounds. They gotas far as D'ri. 

"Halt! Who comes there?" he demanded. 

"Grand rounds, " was the answer of the captain. 

"Lay down yer arms, " said D'ri, "an" come up here 'n' set down. "

"Haven't time, " said the captain, failing at first to grasp thesituation. 

"You tek time, er I 'll put a hole 'n yer jacket, " said D'ri. 

One of the privates turned quickly and ran. D'ri sent a shot afterhim, that only grazed a leg, and he kept on. Then D'ri gave allattention to his new prisoners. They could see no amusement indodging bullets; they threw their arms on the side-hill and satdown with the others. 

The captain swore as he submitted, "Don't rile yerself, " said D'ri; "you need rest. "

"No, I don't, nuther, " said the captain. 

"Ye'll hev t' hev it, anyway, " said D'ri. 

"This beats h--!" the captain answered, with a laugh. 

A feeling of alarm began to spread. The adjutant was standing in agroup of men at headquarters soon after midnight. They were earsunder in the mystery. The escaped soldier came running toward themout of the dark. He was breathing heavily; his leg was bleedingand sore. 

"Wall, what is it?" the adjutant demanded. 

"D'ri!" the man gasped, and dropped down exhausted. 

"D'ri?" the officer inquired. 

"D'ri!" the man repeated. "It's thet air man they call D'ri. He'sroped in everybody thet come his way. They 're all settin' on thehill up there beside him. Won't let a man move when he gits him. "

The adjutant snickered as he spat an oath. He was made of iron, that man Church. 

"Post a guard around him, " said he, turning to an officer. "Thedem fool 'd tek the hull garrison ef we did n't. I 'll go 'n' tryt' pull him off his perch. "

"He 'll lay ye up, " said the returned private, baring his bloodyleg. "Eff ye try t' fool with him ye'll limp. See what he done t'me. "

The adjutant swore again. 

"Go t' the hospital, " he commanded. 

Then he strode away, but he did not return that night. 

The moon was shining as the adjutant came, in sight and hailed thegroup of prisoners. 

"What ye settin' there fer?" he shouted. 

"You 'll know 'n a minute, " said one of them. 

"Halt! Who comes there?" D'ri demanded. 

"Friend with--"

"Don't ye purten' t' be my friend, " D'ri answered. "'T won't work. Come up here 'n' set down. "

"Stop foolin', man, " said the adjutant. 

"I ain't a-foolin'. "

"He ain't a-foolin'; he means business, " said one of the prisoners. 

"Don't ye tamper with me. I 'll teach you--" the adjutantthreatened. 

"Ain't a-goin' t' tamper with ye a minute, " said D'ri. "If yedon't set down here quick, I 'll put a hole in ye. "

"Lunatic! wha' d' ye mean?"

"I mean t' turn ye out t' grass a leetle while, " D'ri answeredsoberly. "Ye look tired. "

The officer made at him, but in a flash D'ri had knocked him downwith his musket. The adjutant rose and, with an oath, joined theothers. 

"Dunno but he 'll tek the hull garrison 'fore sunrise, " hemuttered. "Let 'em come--might es well hev comp'ny. "

A little before daylight a man sick in the hospital explained thesituation. He had given D'ri his orders. They brought him out ona stretcher. The orders were rescinded, the prisoners released. 

Captain Hawkins, hot to his toes with anger, took D'ri toheadquarters. General Brown laughed heartily when he heard thefacts, and told D'ri he was made of the right stuff. 

"These greenhorns are not nice to play with, " he said. "They'relike some guns--loaded when you don't expect it. We 've had enoughskylarking. "

And when the sick man came out of hospital he went to theguard-house. 

After we had shown our mettle the general always had a good wordfor D'ri and me, and he put us to the front in every difficultenterprise. 

VI

We had been four months in Ogdensburg, waiting vainly for someprovocation to fight. Our own drilling was the only sign of war wecould see on either side of the river. At first many moved out ofthe village, but the mill was kept running, and after a little theybegan to come back. The farms on each side of the river looked aspeaceful as they had ever looked. The command had grown rapidly. Thurst Miles of my own neighborhood had come to enlist shortlyafter D'ri and I enlisted, and was now in my company. 

In September, General Brown was ordered to the Western frontier, and Captain Forsyth came to command us. Early in the morning ofOctober 2, a man came galloping up the shore with a warning, sayingthat the river was black with boats a little way down. Some of usclimbed to the barracks roof, from which we could see and countthem. There were forty, with two gunboats. Cannonading beganbefore the town was fairly awake. First a big ball went over thehouse-tops, hitting a cupola on a church roof and sending bell andtimbers with a crash into somebody's dooryard. Then all over thevillage hens began to cackle and children to wail. People camerunning out of doors half dressed. A woman, gathering chips in herdooryard, dropped them, lifted her dress above her head, and ranfor the house. Unable to see her way, she went around in a widecircle for a minute or two, while the soldiers were laughing. Another ball hit a big water-tank on top of the lead-works. Ithurled broken staves and a big slop of water upon the housetops, and rolled a great iron hoop over roofs into the street below, where it rolled on, chasing a group of men, who ran for their livesbefore it. The attack was an odd sort of comedy all through, fornobody was hurt, and all were frightened save those of us who wereamused. Our cannon gave quick reply, and soon the British stoppedfiring and drew near. We knew that they would try to force alanding, and were ready for them. We drove them back, when theyput off, and that was the end of it. 

Next came the fight on the ice in February--a thing not highlycreditable to us, albeit we were then but a handful and they weremany. But D'ri and I had no cause for shame of our part in it. Wewallowed to our waists in the snow, and it was red enough in frontof us. But the others gave way there on the edge of the river, andwe had to follow. We knew when it was time to run; we were neverin the rear rank even then. We made off with the others, althougha sabre's point had raked me in the temple, and the blood hadfrozen on me, and I was a sight to scare a trooper. Everybody ranthat day, and the British took the village, holding it onlytwenty-four hours. For our part in it D'ri got the rank ofcorporal and I was raised from lieutenant to captain. We made ourway to Sackett's Harbor, where I went into hospital for a month. 

Then came a galling time of idleness. In June we went with GeneralBrown--D'ri and I and Thurst Miles and Seth Alexander and half adozen others--down the river to the scene of our first fighting atOgdensburg, camping well back in the woods. It was the evening ofthe 27th of June that the general sent for me. He was at themansion of Mr. Parish, where he had been dining. He was sitting inhis dress-suit. His dark side-whiskers and hair were brushedcarefully forward. His handsome face turned toward me with akindly look. 

"Bell, " said he, "I wish to send you on very important business. You have all the qualities of a good scout. You know the woods. You have courage and skill and tact. I wish you to startimmediately, go along the river to Morristown, then cut over intothe Black River country and deliver this letter to the Comte deChaumont, at the Chateau Le Ray, in Leraysville. If you see anysigns of the enemy, send a report to me at once. I shall be herethree days. Take Alexander, Olin, and Miles with you; they are allgood men. When your letter is delivered, report at the Harbor assoon as possible. "

I was on the road with my party in half an hour. We were all goodhorsemen. D'ri knew the shortest way out of the woods in any partof the north country. Thurst had travelled the forest from Albanyto Sackett's Harbor, and was the best hunter that ever trod a trailin my time. The night was dark, but we rode at a gallop until wehad left the town far behind us. We were at Morristown beforemidnight, pounding on the door of the Red Tavern. The landlordstuck his head out of an upper window, peering down at us by thelight of a candle. 

"Everything quiet?" I asked. 

"Everything quiet, " said he. "Crossed the river yesterday. Folksgo back 'n' forth 'bout the same as ever. Wife's in Elizabethtownnow, visiting. "

We asked about the west roads and went on our way. Long beforedaylight we were climbing the steep road at Rossie to the inn ofthe Travellers' Rest--a tavern famous in its time, that stood halfup the hill, with a store, a smithy, and a few houses grouped aboutit, We came up at a silent walk on a road cushioned with sawdust. D'ri rapped on the door until I thought he had roused the wholevillage. At last a man came to the upper window. He, too, inspected us with a candle. Then he opened the door and gave us ahearty welcome. We put up our horses for a bite, and came into thebar. 

"Anything new?" I inquired. 

"They say the British are camped this side of the river, north ofus, " said he, "with a big tribe of Injuns. Some of their cavalrycame within three miles of us to-day. Everybody scairt t' death. "

He began to set out a row of glasses. 

"What 'll ye hev?" he inquired. 

"Guess I 'll tip a little blue ruin int' me, " said D'ri, with ashiver; "'s a col' night. "

Seth and I called for the same. 

"An' you?" said the landlord, turning to Thurst. 

"Wal, " said the latter, as he stroked his thin beard, "when I tukthe pledge I swore et I hoped t' drop dead 'fore I see myself tekanother drink. I 'm jest goin' t' shet my eyes 'n' hold out myglass. I don' care what ye gi' me s' long es it's somethin'powerful. "

We ate crackers and cheese while the landlord was telling of thewest roads and the probable location of the British. He stoppedsuddenly, peered over my shoulder, and blew out the candle. Wecould hear a horse neighing in the yard. 

"Some one et the window, " he whispered. Then he ran to the doorand drew the bolt. "Ain' much idee who 't is, " he added, peeringout of the window. "By gosh! more 'n a dozen folks out here, soldiers tew, most uv 'em on horseback. Come quick. "

We followed him upstairs, in the dark, as they began to pound thedoor. From the yard a light flashed up. They were evidentlybuilding a fire so that they would have better shooting if we cameout. 

"May set the house afire, " said the landlord. 

He quickly unwound a big hose that ran up to a tank in the peakabove us. 

"Plenty o' water?" D'ri whispered. 

"Rivers uv it, " said the landlord. "Tank's connected with thereservoir o' the lead-works on the hill up there. Big wooden pipecomes in the gable-end. "

"Turn 'er on, " said D'ri, quickly, "an' let me hev thet air hose. "

The landlord ran up a ladder. D'ri stuck the hose out of thewindow. The stream shot away with a loud hiss. I stood by and sawthe jet of water leap forth as big as a pikestaff. A man went offhis horse, sprawling as if he had been hit with a club. The jetleaped quickly from one to another, roaring on man and beast. There was a mighty scurry. Horses went headlong down the hill, some dragging their riders. In the silence of the night, bedlamhad broken loose. The shouting men, the plunging horses, thestream of water roaring on rock and road, woke the village. Mencame running from behind the house to see what had happened, thenrushed after their horses. Some fell cursing as the water hitthem. The landlord put his mouth to my ear. 

"Mek fer yer hosses, " he hissed. 

We were below-stairs and out of the door in a jiffy. Two men fledbefore us at the stable, scrambled over the fence, and wenttumbling downhill. We bridled our horses with all speed, leapedupon them, and went rushing down the steep road, our swords inhand, like an avalanche. They tried to stop us at the foot of thehill, but fell away as we came near. I could hear the snap oftheir triggers in passing. Only one pistol-shot came after us, andthat went high. 

"Guess their ammunition 's a leetle wet, " said D'ri, with a shoutthat turned into laughter as we left the British behind us. 

A party of four or five mounted and gave chase; but our powder wasa bit drier than theirs, and for a time we raked the road with ourbullets. What befell them I know not, I only know that they heldup and fell out of hearing. 

Crossing a small river at daylight, we took the bed of it, makingour way slowly for half a mile or so into the woods. There webuilt a fire, and gave the horses half the feed in our saddle-bags, and ate our mess on a flat rock. 

"Never hed no sech joemightyful time es thet afore, " said D'ri, ashe sat down, laughing, and shook his head. "Jerushy Jane! Did n'twe come down thet air hill! Luk slidin' on a greased pole. "

"Comin' so luk the devil they did n't dast git 'n er way, " saidThurst. 

"We wus all rippin' th' air 'ith them air joemightyful big sabres, tew, " D'ri went on. "Hed a purty middlin' sharp edge on us. Stuckout luk a haystack right 'n' left. "

He began bringing wood as he sang the chorus of his favoriteballad:--

 Li toorul I oorul I oorul I ay, etc. 

Thurst knew a trail that crossed the river near by and met theCaraway Pike a few miles beyond. Having eaten, I wrote a despatchto be taken back by Thurst as soon as we reached the pike. Pastten o'clock we turned into a rough road, where the three of us wentone way and Thurst another. 

I rode slowly, for the horses were nearly fagged. I gave them anhour's rest when we put up for dinner. Then we pushed on, comingin sight of the Chateau Le Ray at sundown. A splendid place itwas, the castle of gray stone fronting a fair stretch of woodedlawn, cut by a brook that went splashing over rocks near by, andsent its velvet voice through wood and field. A road of finegravel led through groves of beech and oak and pine to a grassyterrace under the castle walls. A servant in livery came to meetus at the door, and went to call his master. Presently a tall, handsome man, with black eyes and iron-gray hair and mustache, camedown a path, clapping his hands. 

"Welcome, gentlemen! It is the Captain Bell?" said he, with amarked accent, as he came to me, his hand extended. "You come fromMonsieur the General Brown, do you not?"

"I do, " said I, handing him my message. 

He broke the seal and read it carefully. 

"I am glad to see you--ver' glad to see you!" said he, laying hishands upon my shoulders and giving me a little shake. 

Two servants went away with D'ri and Seth and the horses. 

"Come, captain, " said my host, as he led the way. "You are in goodtime for dinner. "

We entered a great triangular hall, lighted by wide windows abovethe door, and candelabra of shining brass that hung from its highceiling. There were sliding doors of polished wood on each side ofit. A great stairway filled the point of the triangle. I wasshown to my room, which was as big as a ball-room, it seemed to me, and grandly furnished; no castle of my dreams had been quite sofine. The valet of the count looked after me, with offers of newlinen and more things than I could see use for. He could not speakEnglish, I remember, and I addressed him in the good French mymother had taught me. 

The kind of life I saw in this grand home was not wholly new to me, for both my mother and father had known good living in their youth, and I had heard much of it. I should have been glad of a newuniform; but after I had had my bath and put on the new shirt andcollar the valet had brought me, I stood before the long pier-glassand saw no poor figure of a man. 

The great dining-hall of the count was lighted with many candleswhen we came in to dinner. It had a big fireplace, where logs wereblazing, for the night had turned cool, and a long table with a bigepergne of wrought silver, filled with roses, in its centre. Agreat silken rug lay under the table, on a polished floor, and thewalls were hung with tapestry. I sat beside the count, andopposite me was the daughter of the Sieur Louis Francois deSaint-Michel, king's forester under Louis XVI. Therese, thehandsome daughter of the count, sat facing him at the farther endof the table, and beside her was the young Marquis de Gonvello. M. Pidgeon, the celebrated French astronomer, Moss Kent, brother ofthe since famous chancellor, the Sieur Michel, and the Baroness deFerre, with her two wards, the Misses Louise and Louison deLambert, were also at dinner. These young ladies were the mostremarkable of the company; their beauty was so brilliant, sofascinating, it kindled a great fire in me the moment I saw it. They said little, but seemed to have much interest in all the talkof the table. I looked at them more than was polite, I am sure, but they looked at me quite as often. They had big, beautifulbrown eyes, and dark hair fastened high with jewelled pins, andprofiles like those of the fair ladies of Sir Peter Lely, so finelywere they cut. One had a form a bit fuller and stronger than theother's, but they were both as tall and trim as a young beech, withlips cherry-red and cheeks where one could see faintly the glow oftheir young blood. Their gowns were cut low, showing the gracefullines of neck and shoulder and full bosom. I had seen prettygirls, many of them, but few high-bred, beautiful young women. The moment I saw these two some new and mighty force came into me. There were wine and wit a-plenty at the count's table, and otherthings that were also new to me, and for which I retained perhapstoo great a fondness. 

The count asked me to tell of our journey, and I told the storywith all the spirit I could put into my words. I am happy to sayit did seem to hit the mark, for I was no sooner done with ouradventure than the ladies began to clap their hands, and the Missesde Lambert had much delight in their faces when the baroness retoldmy story in French. 

Dinner over, the count invited me to the smoking-room, where, in acorner by ourselves, I had some talk with him. He told me of hisfather--that he had been a friend of Franklin, that he had given aship and a cargo of gunpowder to our navy in '76. Like others Ihad met under his roof, the count had seen the coming of the Reignof Terror in France, and had fled with his great fortune. He hadinvested much of it there in the wild country. He loved America, and had given freely to equip the army for war. He was, therefore, a man of much influence in the campaign of the North, and no doubtthose in authority there were instructed, while the war was on, totake special care of his property. 

"And will you please tell me, " I said at length, "who are theMisses de Lambert?"

"Daughters of a friend in Paris, " said the count. "He is a greatphysician. He wishes not for them to marry until they aretwenty-one. Mon Dieu! it was a matter of some difficulty. Theywere beautiful. "

"Very beautiful!" I echoed. 

"They were admired, " he went on. "The young men they began to maketrouble. My friend he send them here, with the baroness, tostudy--to finish their education. It is healthy, it is quiet, and--well, there are no young gentlemen. They go to bed early;they are up at daylight; they have the horse; they have boats; theyamuse themselves ver' much. But they are impatient; they long forParis--the salon, the theatre, the opera. They are like prisoners:they cannot make themselves to be contented. The baroness she hasher villa on a lake back in the woods, and, mon ame! it isbeautiful there--so still, so cool, so delightful! At present theyhave a great fear of the British. They lie awake; they listen;they expect to be carried off; they hear a sound in the night, and, mon Dieu! it is the soldiers coming. "

The count laughed, lifting his shoulders with a gesture of bothhands. Then he puffed thoughtfully at his cigarette. 

"Indeed, " he went on presently, "I think the invasion is not faraway. They tell me the woods in the north are alive with Britishcavalry. I am not able to tell how many, but, Dieu! it is enough. The army should inform itself immediately. I think it is betterthat you penetrate to the river to-morrow, if you are not afraid, to see what is between, and to return by the woods. I shalltrouble you to take a letter to the General Brown. It will beready at any hour. "

"At six?" I inquired. 

"At six, certainly, if you desire to start then, " he replied. 

He rose and took my arm affectionately and conducted me to the bigdrawing-room. Two of the ladies were singing as one played theguitar. I looked in vain for the Misses de Lambert. The otherswere all there, but they had gone. I felt a singular depression attheir absence and went to my room shortly to get my rest, for I hadto be off early in the morning. Before going to bed, however, Isat down to think and do some writing. But I could not for thelife of me put away the thought of the young ladies. They lookedalike, and yet I felt sure they were very different. Somehow Icould not recall in what particular they differed. I sat a timethinking over it. Suddenly I heard low voices, those of womenspeaking in French; I could not tell from where they came. 

"I do wish she would die, the hateful thing!" said one. (It mustbe understood these words are more violent in English than theyseem in French. )

"The colonel is severe to-night, " said another. 

"The colonel--a fine baroness indeed--vieille tyran! I cannot loveher. Lord! I once tried to love a monkey and had better luck. The colonel keeps all the men to herself. Whom have I seen for ayear? Dieu! women, grandpapas, greasy guides! Not a young mansince we left Paris. "

"My dear Louison!" said the other, "there are many things betterthan men. "

"Au nom de Dieu! But I should like to know what they are. I havenever seen them. "

"But often men are false and evil, " said the other, in a sweet, lowvoice. 

"Nonsense!" said the first, impatiently. "I had rather elope witha one-legged hostler than always live in these woods. "

"Louison! You ought to cross yourself and repeat a Hail Mary. "

"Thanks! I have tried prayer. It is n't what I need. I am no nunlike you. My dear sister, don't you ever long for the love of aman--a big, handsome, hearty fellow who could take you up in hisarms and squeeze the life out of you?"

"Eh bien, " said the other, with a sigh, "I suppose it is very nice. I do not dare to think of it. "

"Nice! It is heaven, Louise! And to see a man like that and notbe permitted to--to speak to him! Think of it! A young andhandsome man--the first I have seen for a year! Honestly I couldpoison the colonel. "

"My dear, it is the count as much as the colonel. She is under hisorders, and he has an eagle eye. "

"The old monkey! He enrages me! I could rend him limb from limb!"

I could not help hearing what they said, but I did not think itquite fair to share their confidence any further, so I went to oneof the windows and closed a shutter noisily. The voices must havecome from a little balcony just under my room. 

"My dear sister, you are very terrible, " said one of them, and thenthe shutter came to, and I heard no more. 

A full moon lighted the darkness. A little lake gleamed likesilver between the tree-tops. Worn out with hard travel, I fellinto bed shortly, and lay a long time thinking of those youngladies, of the past, of to-morrow and its perils, and of thefarther future. A new life had begun for me. 

VII

The sun was lifting above the tree-tops when the count's valetcalled me that morning at the Chateau Le Ray. Robins were callingunder my windows, and the groves rang with tournaments of happysong. Of that dinner-party only the count was at breakfast withme. We ate hurriedly, and when we had risen the horses were at thedoor. As to my own, a tall chestnut thoroughbred that Mr. Parishhad brought over from England, I never saw him in finer fettle. Istarted Seth by Caraway Pike for Ogdensburg with the count'smessage. 

Mine host laid hold of my elbow and gave it a good shake as I lefthim, with D'ri, taking a trail that led north by west in the deepwoods. They had stuffed our saddle-bags with a plenty for man andhorse. 

I could not be done thinking of the young ladies. It put my heartin a flutter when I looked back at the castle from the wood's edgeand saw one of them waving her handkerchief in a window. I liftedmy hat, and put my spurs to the flank with such a pang in me Idared not look again. Save for that one thing, I never feltbetter. The trail was smooth, and we galloped along in silence fora mile or so. Then it narrowed to a stony path, where one hadenough to do with slow going to take care of his head, there wereso many boughs in the way. 

"Jerushy Jane!" exclaimed D'ri, as he slowed down. "Thet air's agran' place. Never hed my karkiss in no sech bed as they gin melas' night--softer 'n wind, an' hed springs on like them new waginsye see over 'n Vermont. Jerushy! Dreamed I was flyin'. "

I had been thinking of what to do if we met the enemy and were hardpressed. We discussed it freely, and made up our minds that ifthere came any great peril of capture we would separate, each totake his own way out of the difficulty. 

We halted by a small brook at midday, feeding the horses andourselves out of the saddle-bags. 

"Ain't jest eggzac'ly used t' this kind uv a sickle, " said D'ri, ashe felt the edge of his sabre, "but I 'll be dummed ef it don'tseem es ef I 'd orter be ruther dang'rous with thet air 'n my hand. "

He knew a little about rough fighting with a sabre. He had seen myfather and me go at each other hammer and tongs there in ourdoor-yard every day of good weather. Stormy days he had alwaysstood by in the kitchen, roaring with laughter, as the good steelrang and the house trembled. He had been slow to come to it, buthad had his try with us, and had learned to take an attack withoutflinching. I went at him hard for a final lesson that day in thewoods--a great folly, I was soon to know. We got warm and mademore noise than I had any thought of. My horse took alarm andpulled away, running into a thicket. I turned to catch him. 

"Judas Priest!" said D'ri. 

There, within ten feet of us, I saw what made me, ever after, amore prudent man. It was an English officer leaning on his sword, a tall and handsome fellow of some forty years, in shiny top-hootsand scarlet blouse and gauntlets of brown kid. 

"You are quite clever, " said he, touching his gray mustache. 

I made no answer, but stood pulling myself together. 

"You will learn, " he added, smiling, with a tone of encouragement. "Let me show you a trick. "

He was most polite in his manner, like a play-hero, and came towardme as he spoke. Then I saw four other Britishers coming out toclose in upon us from behind trees. 

He came at me quickly, and I met him. He seemed to think it wouldbe no trick to unhand my weapon. Like a flash, with a whip of hissabre, he tried to wrench it away. D'ri had begun to shoot, dodging between trees, and a redcoat had tumbled over. I bore inupon my man, but he came back at me with surprising vigor. On myword, he was the quickest swordsman I ever had the honor of facing. 

But he had a mean way of saying "Ha!" as he turned my point. Hesoon angered me, whereupon I lost a bit of caution, with someblood, for he was at me like a flash, and grazed me on the hipbefore I could get my head again. It was no parlor play, I cantell you. We were fighting for life, and both knew it. We foughtup and down through brakes and bushes and over stones--a perilousfooting. I could feel his hand weakening. I put all my speed tothe steel then, knowing well that, barring accident, I should win. I could hear somebody coming up behind me. 

"Keep away there, " my adversary shouted, with a fairness I admirewhen I think of it. "I can handle him. Get the other fellow. "

I went at him to make an end of it. 

"I'll make you squint, you young cub, " he hissed, lunging at me. 

He ripped my blouse at the shoulder, and, gods of war! we made thesparks fly. Then he went down, wriggling; I had caught him in theside, poor fellow! Like a flash I was off in a thicket. One ofthe enemy got out of my way and sent a bullet after me. I couldfeel it rip and sting in the muscle as it rubbed my ribs. I keptfoot and made for my horse. He had caught his reins, and I was onhim and off in the bush, between bullets that came ripping theleaves about me, before they could give chase. 

Drums were beating the call to arms somewhere. I struck the trailin a minute, and, leaning low in the saddle, went bounding overlogs and rocks and down a steep hillside as if the devil were afterme. I looked back, and was nearly raked off by a bough. I couldhear horses coming in the trail behind with quick and heavy jumps. But I was up to rough riding and had little fear they would get asight of me. However, crossing a long stretch of burnt timber, they must have seen me. I heard a crack of pistols far behind; awhiz of bullets over my head. I shook out the reins and let thehorse go, urging with cluck and spur, never slacking for rock orhill or swale. It was a wilder ride than any I have known since orshall again, I can promise you, for, God knows, I have been hurttoo often. Fast riding over a new trail is leaping in the dark andworse than treason to one's self. Add to it a saddle wet with yourown blood, then you have something to give you a turn of thestomach thinking of it. 

When I was near tumbling with a kind of rib-ache and could hear nopursuer, I pulled up. There was silence about me, save the soundof a light breeze in the tree-tops. I rolled off my horse, andhooked my elbow in the reins, and lay on my belly, grunting withpain. I felt better, having got my breath, and a rod of beech tobite upon--a good thing if one has been badly stung and has ajourney to make. In five minutes I was up and off at a slow jog, for I knew I was near safety. 

I thought much of poor D'ri and how he might be faring. The last Ihad seen of him, he was making good use of pistol and legs, runningfrom tree to tree. He was a dead shot, little given to wastinglead. The drums were what worried me, for they indicated a bigcamp, and unless he got to the stirrups in short order, he musthave been taken by overwhelming odds. It was near sundown when Icame to a brook and falls I could not remember passing. I lookedabout me. Somewhere I had gone off the old trail--everything wasnew to me. It widened, as I rode on, up a steep hill. Where thetree-tops opened, the hill was covered with mossy turf, and therewere fragrant ferns on each side of me. The ground was clear ofbrush and dead timber. Suddenly I heard a voice singing--a sweetgirl voice that thrilled me, I do not know why, save that I alwayslonged for the touch of a woman if badly hurt. But then I havefelt that way having the pain of neither lead nor steel. The voicerang in the silent woods, but I could see no one nor any sign ofhuman habitation. Shortly I came out upon a smooth roadwaycarpeted with sawdust. It led through a grove, and following it, Icame suddenly upon a big green mansion among the trees, with Doricpillars and a great portico where hammocks hung with soft cushionsin them, and easy-chairs of old mahogany stood empty. I have saidas little as possible of my aching wound: I have always thought itbad enough for one to suffer his own pain. But I must say I wasnever so tried to keep my head above me as when I came to thatdoor. Two figures in white came out to meet me. At first I didnot observe--I had enough to do keeping my eyes open--that theywere the Mlles. De Lambert. 

"God save us!" I heard one of them say. "He is hurt; he is pale. See the blood running off his boot-leg. "

Then, as one took the bit, the other eased me down from my saddle, calling loudly for help. She took her handkerchief--that had aperfume I have not yet forgotten--as she supported me, and wipedthe sweat and dust from my face. Then I saw they were the splendidyoung ladies I had seen at the count's table. The discovery putnew life in me; it was like a dash of water in the face. I liftedmy hat and bowed to them. 

"Ladies, my thanks to you, " I said in as good French as I knew. "Ihave been shot. May I ask you to send for a doctor?"

A butler ran down the steps; a gardener and a stable-boy hurriedout of the grove. 

"To the big room--the Louis-Quinze, " said one of the girls, excitedly, as the men came to my help. 

The fat butler went puffing upstairs, and they followed, on eachside of me. 

"Go for a doctor, quick, " said one of them to the gardener, who wascoming behind--a Frenchman who prayed to a saint as he saw my blood. 

They led me across a great green rug in a large hall above-stairsto a chamber of which I saw little then save its size and thewealth of its appointments. The young ladies set me down, biddingone to take off my boots, and sending another for hot water. Theyasked me where I was hurt. Then they took off my blouse andwaistcoat. 

"Mon Dieu!" said one to the other. "What can we do? Shall we cutthe shirt?"

"Certainly. Cut the shirt, " said the other. "We must help him. We cannot let him die. "

"God forbid!" was the answer. "See the blood. Poor fellow! It isterrible!"

They spoke very tenderly as they cut my shirt with scissors, andbared my back, and washed my wound with warm water. I never felt atouch so caressing as that of their light fingers, but, gods ofwar! it did hurt me. The bathing done, they bound me big withbandages and left the room until the butler had helped me into bed. They came soon with spirits and bathed my face and hands. Oneleaned over me, whispering, and asking what I would like to eat. Directly a team of horses came prancing to the door. 

"The colonel!" one of them whispered, listening. 

"The colonel, upon my soul!" said the other, that sprightlyLouison, as she tiptoed to the window. They used to call her"Tiptoes" at the Hermitage. 

The colonel! I remembered she was none other than the Baroness deFerre; and thinking of her and of the grateful feeling of thesheets of soft linen, I fell asleep. 

VIII

The doctor came that night, and took out of my back a piece offlattened lead. It had gone under the flesh, quite half round mybody, next to the ribs, without doing worse than to rake the bonehere and there and weaken me with a loss of blood. I woke awhilebefore he came. The baroness and the fat butler were sittingbeside me. She was a big, stout woman of some forty years, withdark hair and gray eyes, and teeth of remarkable whiteness andsymmetry. That evening, I remember, she was in full dress. 

"My poor boy!" said she, in English and in a sympathetic tone, asshe bent over me. 

Indeed, my own mother could not have been kinder than that goodwoman. She was one that had a heart and a hand for the sick-room. I told her how I had been hurt and of my ride. She heard methrough with a glow in her eyes. 

"What a story!" said she. "What a daredevil! I do not see how ithas been possible for you to live. "

She spoke to me always in English of quaint wording and quainteraccent. She seemed not to know that I could speak French. 

An impressive French tutor--a fine old fellow, obsequious andbald-headed--sat by me all night to give me medicine. In themorning I felt as if I had a new heart in me, and was planning tomount my horse. I thought I ought to go on about my business, butI fear I thought more of the young ladies and the possibility of myseeing them again. The baroness came in after I had a bite to eat. I told her I felt able to ride, "You are not able, my child. You cannot ride the horse now, " saidshe, feeling my brow; "maybe not for a ver' long time. I have alarge house, plenty servant, plenty food. Parbleu! be content. Weshall take good care of you. If there is one message to go to yourchief, you know I shall send it. "

I wrote a brief report of my adventure with the British, locatingthe scene as carefully as might be, and she sent it by mountedmessenger to "the Burg. "

"The young ladies they wish to see you, " said the baroness. "Theyare kind-hearted; they would like to do what they can. But I tellthem no; they will make you to be very tired. "

"On the contrary, it will rest me. Let them come, " I said. 

"But I warn you, " said she, lifting her finger as she left theroom, "do not fall in love. They are full of mischief. They donot study. They do not care. You know they make much fun all day. "

The young ladies came in presently. They wore gray gowns admirablyfitted to their fine figures. They brought big bouquets and setthem, with a handsome courtesy, on the table beside me. They tookchairs and sat solemn-faced, without a word, as if it were a Quakermeeting they had come to. I never saw better models of sympatheticpropriety. I was about to speak. One of them shook her head, afinger on her lips. 

"Do not say one word, " she said solemnly in English. "It will makeyou ver' sick. "

It was the first effort of either of them to address me in English. As I soon knew, the warning had exhausted her vocabulary. Thebaroness went below in a moment. Then the one who had spoken cameover and sat near me, smiling. 

"She does not know you can speak French, " said she, whispering andaddressing me in her native tongue, as the other tiptoed to thedoor. "On your life, do not let her know. She will never permitus to see you. She will keep us under lock and key. She knows wecannot speak English, so she thinks we cannot talk with you. It isa great lark. Are you better?"

What was I to do under orders from such authority? As they bademe, I hope you will say, for that is what I did. I had no easyconscience about it, I must own. Day after day I took my part inthe little comedy. They came in Quaker-faced if the baroness wereat hand, never speaking, except to her, until she had gone. Then--well, such animation, such wit, such bright eyes, suchbrilliancy, I have never seen or heard. 

My wound was healing. War and stern duty were as things of the farpast. The grand passion had hold of me. I tried to fight it down, to shake it off, but somehow it had the claws of a tiger. Therewas an odd thing about it all: I could not for the life of me tellwhich of the two charming girls I loved the better. It may seemincredible; I could not understand it myself. They looked alike, and yet they were quite different. Louison was a year older and ofstouter build. She had more animation also, and always a quickerand perhaps a brighter answer. The other had a face more serious, albeit no less beautiful, and a slower tongue. She had little tosay, but her silence had much in it to admire, and, indeed, toremember. They appealed to different men in me with equal force, Idid not then know why. A perplexing problem it was, and I had tothink and suffer much before I saw the end of it, and really cameto know what love is and what it is not. 

[Illustration: "I could not for the life of me tell which of thetwo charming girls I loved the better. "]

Shortly I was near the end of this delightful season of illness. Ihad been out of bed a week. The baroness had read to me every day, and had been so kind that I felt a great shame for my part in ourdeception. Every afternoon she was off in a boat or in hercaleche, and had promised to take me with her as soon as I was ableto go. 

"You know, " said she, "I am going to make you to stay here a fullmonth. I have the consent of the general. "

I had begun to move about a little and enjoy the splendor of thatforest home. There were, indeed, many rare and priceless things init that came out of her chateau in France. She had some curiousold clocks, tokens of ancestral taste and friendship. There wasone her grandfather had got from the land of Louis XIV. --_Le GrandMonarque_, of whom my mother had begun to tell me as soon as Icould hear with understanding. Another came from the bedchamber ofPhilip II of Spain--a grand high clock that had tolled the hours inthat great hall beyond my door. A little thing, in a case ofcarved ivory, that ticked on a table near my bed, Moliere had givento one of her ancestors, and there were many others of equalinterest. 

Her walls were adorned with art treasures of the value of which Ihad little appreciation those days. But I remember there werecanvases of Correggio and Rembrandt and Sir Joshua Reynolds. Shewas, indeed, a woman of fine taste, who had brought her best toAmerica; for no one had a doubt, in the time of which I am writing, that the settlement of the Compagnie de New York would grow into agreat colony, with towns and cities and fine roadways, and the fullcomplement of high living. She had built the Hermitage, --that wasthe name of the mansion, --fine and splendid as it was, for a meretemporary shelter pending the arrival of those better days. 

She had a curious fad, this hermit baroness of the big woods. Sheloved nature and was a naturalist of no poor attainments. Waspsand hornets were the special study of this remarkable woman. Therewere at least a score of their nests on her front portico--big andlittle, and some of them oddly shaped. She hunted them in wood andfield. When she found a nest she had it moved carefully afternightfall, under a bit of netting, and fastened somewhere about thegables. Around the Hermitage there were many withered boughs andbriers holding cones of wrought fibre, each a citadel of theseuniformed soldiers of the air and the poisoned arrow. They wereassembled in colonies of yellow, white, blue, and black wasps, andwhite-faced hornets. She had no fear of them, and, indeed, no oneof the household was ever stung to my knowledge. I have seen herstand in front of her door and feed them out of a saucer. Therewere special favorites that would light upon her palm, overrunningits pink hollow and gorging at the honey-drop. 

"They will never sting, " she would say, "if one does not declarethe war. To strike, to make any quick motion, it gives them anger. Then, mon cher ami! it is terrible. They cause you to burn, toache, to make a great noise, and even to lie down upon the ground. If people come to see me, if I get a new servant, I say: 'Make tothem no attention, and they will not harm you. '"

In the house I have seen her catch one by the wings on a windowand, holding it carefully ask me to watch her captive--sometimes aa great daredevil hornet, lion-maned--as he lay stabbing with hispoison-dagger. 

"Now, " said she, "he is angry; he will remember. If I release himhe will sting me when I come near him again. So I do not permithim to live--I kill him. "

Then she would impale him and invite me to look at him with themicroscope. 

One day the baroness went away to town with the young ladies. Iwas quite alone with the servants. Father Joulin of the chateaucame over and sat awhile with me, and told me how he had escapedthe Parisian mob, a night in the Reign of Terror. Late in theafternoon I walked awhile in the grove with him. When he left Iwent slowly down the trail over which I had ridden. My strengthwas coming fast. I felt like an idle man, shirking the saddle, when I should be serving my country. I must to my horse and makean end to dallying. With thoughts like these for company, I wentfarther than I intended. Returning over the bushy trail I camesuddenly upon--Louison! She was neatly gowned in pink and white. 

"Le diable!" said she. "You surprise me. I thought you wentanother way. "

"Or you would not have taken this one, " I said. 

"Of course not, " said she. "One does not wish to find men if sheis hunting for--for--" she hesitated a moment, blushing--"mon Dieu!for bears, " she added. 

I thought then, as her beautiful eyes looked up at me smiling, thatshe was incomparable, that I loved her above all others--I feltsure of it. 

"And why do you hunt bears?" I inquired. 

"I do not know. I think it is because they are so--so beautiful, so amiable!" she answered. 

"And such good companions. "

"Yes; they never embarrass you, " she went on. "You never feel atloss for a word. "

"I fear you do not know bears. "

"Dieu! better than men. Voila!" she exclaimed, touching me withthe end of her parasol. "You are not so terrible. I do not thinkyou would bite. "

"No; I have never bitten anything but--but bread and doughnuts, orsomething of that sort. "

"Come, I desire to intimidate you. Won't you please be afraid ofme? Indeed, I can be very terrible. See! I have sharp teeth. "

She turned with a playful growl, and parting her crimson lips, showed them to me--white and shapely, and as even as if they hadbeen wrought of ivory. She knew they were beautiful, the vixen. 

"You terrify me. I have a mind to run, " I said, backing off, "Please do not run, " she answered quickly. "I should be afraidthat--that--"

She hesitated a moment, stirring the moss with one dainty foot. 

"That you might not return, " she added, smiling as she looked up atme. 

"Then--then perhaps it will do as well if I climb a tree. "

"No, no; I wish to talk with you. "

"Ma'm'selle, you honor me, " I said. 

"And dishonor myself, I presume, with so much boldness, " she wenton. "It is only that I have something to say; and you know when awoman has something to--to say--"

"It is a fool that does not listen if she be as fair as you, " I putin. 

"You are--well, I shall not say what I think of you, for fear--forfear of giving offence, " said she, blushing as she spoke. "Do youlike the life of a soldier?"

"Very much, and especially when I am wounded, with such excellentcare and company. "

"But your side--it was so horribly torn. I did feel verysorry--indeed I did. You will go again to the war?"

"Unless--unless--Ah, yes, ma'm'selle, I shall go again to the war, "I stammered, going to the brink of confession, only to back awayfrom it, as the blood came hot to my cheeks. 

She broke a tiny bough and began stripping its leaves. 

"Tell me, do you love the baroness?" she inquired as she whipped aswaying bush of brier. 

The question amazed me. I laughed nervously. 

"I respect, I admire the good woman--she would make an excellentmother, " was my answer. 

"Well spoken!" she said, clapping her hands. "I thought you were afool. I did not know whether you were to blame or--or the Creator. "

"Or the baroness, " I added, laughing. 

"Well, " said she, with a pretty shrug, "is there not a man forevery woman? The baroness she thinks she is irresistible. She hasmoney. She would like to buy you for a plaything--to marry you. But I say beware. She is more terrible than the keeper of theBastile. And you--you are too young!"

"My dear girl, " said I, in a voice of pleading, "it is terrible. Save me! Save me, I pray you!"

"Pooh! I do not care!"--with a gesture of indifference, "I amtrying to save myself, that is all. "

"From what?"

"Another relative. Parbleu! I have enough. " She stamped her footimpatiently as she spoke. "I should be very terrible to you. Ishould say the meanest things. I should call you grandpapa andgive you a new cane every Christmas. "

"And if you gave me also a smile, I should be content. "

More than once I was near declaring myself that day, but I had amighty fear she was playing with me, and held my tongue. There wasan odd light in her eyes. I knew not, then, what it meant. 

"You are easily satisfied, " was her answer. 

"I am to leave soon, " I said. "May I not see you here to-morrow?"

"Alas! I do not think you can, " was her answer. 

"And why not?"

"Because it would not be proper, " said she, smiling as she lookedup at me. 

"Not proper! I should like to know why. "

"It would make me break another engagement, " she went on, laughing. "I am to go with the baroness to meet the count if he comes--shehas commanded. The day after, in the morning, at ten o'clock, bythe cascade--will that do? Good! I must leave you now. I mustnot return with you. Remember!" she commanded, pointing at me withher tapered forefinger. "Remember--ten o'clock in the morning. "

Then she took a bypath and went out of sight. I returned to themansion as deep in love as a man could be. I went to dinner withthe rest that evening. Louison came in after we were all seated. 

"You are late, my dear, " said the baroness. 

"Yes; I went away walking and lost something, and was not able tofind it again. "

IX

Next morning the baroness went away in her glittering caleche withLouison. Each shining spoke and golden turret flashed the sunlightback at me as I looked after them at the edge of the wood. Thebaroness had asked me to go with her, but I thought the journey toolong. Louise came out and sat by me awhile as I lay in thehammock. She was all in white. A trifle taller and a bit moreslender than her sister, I have sometimes thought her beauty wasstatelier, also, and more statuesque. The sight of her seemed tokindle in me the spirit of old chivalry. I would have fought anddied for her with my best lance and plume. In all my life I hadnot seen a woman of sweeter graces of speech and manner, and, intruth, I have met some of the best born of her sex. 

She had callers presently--the Sieur Michel and his daughter. Iwent away, then, for a walk, and, after a time, strolled into thenorth trail. Crossing a mossy glade, in a circle of fragrantcedar, I sat down to rest. The sound of falling water came to myear through thickets of hazel and shadberry. Suddenly I heard asweet voice singing a love-song of Provence--the same voice, thesame song, I had heard the day I came half fainting on my horse. Somebody was coming near. In a moment I saw Louise before me. 

"What, ma'm'selle!" I said; "alone in the woods!"

"Not so, " said she. "I knew you were here--somewhere, and--and--well, I thought you might be lonely. "

"You are a good angel, " I said, "always trying to make othershappy. "

"Eh bien, " said she, sitting beside me, "I was lonely myself. Icannot read or study. I have neglected my lessons; I have insultedthe tutor--threw my book at him, and walked away, for he sputteredat me. I do not know what is the matter. I know I am very wicked. Perhaps--ah me! perhaps it is the devil. "

"Ma'm'selle, it is appalling!" I said. "You may have injured thepoor man. You must be very bad. Let me see your palm. "

I held her dainty fingers in mine, that were still hard and brown, peering into the pink hollow of her hand. She looked up curiously. 

"A quick temper and a heart of gold, " I said. "If the devil hasit, he is lucky, and--well, I should like to be in his confidence. "

"Ah, m'sieur, " said she, seriously, a little tremor on her lips, "Ihave much trouble--you do not know. I have to fight with myself. "

"You have, then, a formidable enemy, " I answered. 

"But I am not quarrelsome, " said she, thoughtfully. "I am onlyweary of the life here. I should like to go away and be of someuse in the world. I suppose it is wicked, for my papa wishes me tostay. And bah! it is a prison--a Hopital de Salpetriere!"

"Ma'm'selle, " I exclaimed, "if you talk like that I shall take youon my horse and fly with you. I shall come as your knight, as yourdeliverer, some day. "

"Alas!" said she, with a sigh, "you would find me very heavy. Onehas nothing to do here but grow lazy and--ciel!--fat. "

If my meeting with her sister had not made it impossible andabsurd, I should have offered my heart to this fair young lady thenand there. Now I could not make it seem the part of honor anddecency. I could not help adoring her simplicity, her frankness, her beautiful form and face. 

"It is no prison for me, " I said. "I do not long for deliverance. I cannot tell you how happy I have been to stay--how unhappy Ishall be to leave. "

"Captain, " she said quickly, "you are not strong; you are nosoldier yet. "

"Yes; I must be off to the wars. "

"And that suggests an idea, " said she, thoughtfully, her chin uponher hand. 

"Which is?"

"That my wealth is ill-fortune, " she went on, with a sigh. "Menand women are fighting and toiling and bleeding and dying to makethe world better, and I--I am just a lady, fussing, primping, peering into a looking-glass! I should like to do something, butthey think I am too good--too holy. "

"But it is a hard business--the labors and quarrels of the greatworld, " I suggested. 

"Well--it is God's business, " she continued. "And am I not one ofhis children, and 'wist ye not that I must be about my Father'sbusiness?' It was not too good for the man who said that. "

"But what would you do?"

"I do not know. I suppose I can do nothing because--alas! becausemy father has bought my obedience with a million francs. Do younot see that I am in bondage?"

"Be patient; the life of a rich demoiselle is not barren ofopportunity. "

"To be gay--oh! one might as well be a peacock; to say prettythings, one might better be a well-trained parrot; to grace thecourt or the salon, I had as soon be a statue in the corner--it hasmore comfort, more security; to be admired, to hear finecompliments--well, you know that is the part of a pet poodle. Isay, captain, to be happy one must be free to do. "

I looked into her big eyes, that were full of their new discovery. 

"I should like to be among the wounded soldiers, " said she, herface brightening. "It did make me very happy to sit by yourbedside and do for you. "

There was a very tender look in her eyes then. 

She started to rise. A brier, stirring in the breeze, had fallenacross her hair. She let me loose the thorns, and, doing so, Ikissed her forehead--I could not help it. 

"M'sieur!" she exclaimed in a whisper. Then she turned quicklyaway and stood tearing a leaf in her fingers. 

"Forgive me!" I pleaded, for I saw she was crying. "It was theimpulse of a moment. Pray forgive me!"

She stood motionless and made no answer, I never felt such a stirin me, for I had a fear, a terrible fear, that I had lost what Imight never have again. 

"It was honorable admiration, " I continued, rising to my fullheight beside her. "Tell me, ma'm'selle, have I hurt you?"

"No, " said she, in a voice that trembled. "I am thinking--I amthinking of somebody else. "

The words, spoken so slowly, so sweetly, seemed, nevertheless, tofly at me. "Of somebody else!" Whom could she mean? Had hersister told her? Did she know of my meeting with Louison? I wasabout to confess how deeply, how tenderly, I loved her. I hadspoken the first word when this thought flashed upon me, and Ihalted. I could not go on. 

"Ma'm'selle, " I said, "I--I--if it is I of whom you are thinking, give me only your pity, and I can be content. Sometime, perhaps, Imay deserve more. If I can be of any service to you, send forme--command me. You shall see I am not ungrateful. Ah, ma'm'selle, " I continued, as I stood to my full height, and felt amighty uplift in my heart that seemed to toss the words out of me, "I have a strong arm and a good sword, and the love of honor andfair women. "

She wiped her eyes, and turned and looked up at me. I was nolonger a sick soldier. 

"It is like a beautiful story, " she said thoughtfully; "andyou--you are like a knight of old. We must go home. It is longpast luncheon hour. We must hurry. "

She gave me her arm up the hill, and we walked without speaking. 

"I am very well to-day, " I remarked as we came to the road. "Ifyou will wait here until I get to the big birch, I shall go aroundto see if I can beat you to the door. "

"It is not necessary, " said she, smiling, "and--and, m'sieur, I amnot ashamed of you or of what I have done. "

The baroness and Louison had not yet returned. M. Pidgeon was atluncheon with us in the big dining room, and had much to say of themighty Napoleon and the coalition he was then fighting. 

The great monsieur stayed through the afternoon, as the baronesshad planned a big houseparty for the night, in celebration of thecount's return. My best clothes had come by messenger from theHarbor, and I could put myself in good fettle. The baroness andthe count and Louison came early, and we sat long together underthe trees. 

The dinner was at seven. There were more than a dozen guests, among whom were a number I had seen at the chateau--Mr. DavidParish of Ogdensburg, who arrived late in a big, two-wheeled cartdrawn by four horses that came galloping to the door, and GeneralWilkinson, our new commander in the North, a stout, smooth-facedman, who came with Mr. Parish in citizen's dress. 

At dinner the count had much to say of scenes of excitement inAlbany, where he had lately been. The baroness and her wards wereresplendent in old lace and sparkling jewels. Great haunches ofvenison were served from a long sideboard; there was a free flow ofold Madeira and Burgundy and champagne and cognac. Mr. Parish andthe count and the general and Moss Kent and M. Pidgeon sat long atthe table, with cigars and coffee, after the rest of us had gone tothe parlors, and the big room rang with their laughter. The youngMarquis de Gonvello and Mr. Marc Isambert Brunel of the Compagnie, who, afterward founded the great machine-shops of the Royal NavyYard at Portsmouth and became engineer of the Thames tunnel, andPierre Chassinis, Jr. , and I waltzed with the ladies. Presently Isat down near the baroness, who was talking in French with ThereseLe Ray, the count's daughter. 

"Pardon my using French, " said the baroness, turning to me, "for Ibelieve you do not use it, and, my friend, it is a misfortune, foryou miss knowing what good company is the Ma'm'selle Le Ray. "

"And I miss much pleasure and mayhap a duel with the marquis, " Isaid, laughing; "but I beg you to proceed with your talk. I havelearned many words since I came here, and I love the sound of it. "

"We saw British soldiers to-day, " she continued to Ma'm'selle LeRay, in French. "They crossed the road near us on their horses. "

Louison came over and sat by them. 

"They were not in uniform, " the baroness continued, "but I knewthey were English; you cannot mistake them. "

"And what do you think ?" said Louison, eagerly. "One of themthreatened to kiss me. "

"Indeed, that was terrible, " said Ma'm'selle Le Ray. "You musthave been afraid. "

"Yes, " said she, smiling, "afraid he wouldn't. They were agood-looking lot. "

"I do not think he was speaking of you at all, " said the baroness. "He was looking at me when--"

"Ciel!" exclaimed Louison, laughing. "That is why they turnedsuddenly and fled into the fields. "

I fled, too, --perhaps as suddenly as the Britishers, --to savemyself the disgrace of laughter. 

The great clock in the hall above-stairs tolled the hour of two. The ladies had all gone to bed save the baroness. The butler hadstarted upstairs, a candelabrum in his hand. Following him werethe count and Mr. Parish, supporting the general between them. Theable soldier had overrated his capacity. All had risen to go totheir rooms. Of a sudden we were startled by a loud rap on thefront door. A servant opened it, and immediately I heard thefamiliar voice of D'ri. 

"Is they anybody here by the name o' Mister Bell?" he asked. 

I ran to the door, and there stood D'ri, his clothes wet, his bootsmuddy, for it had been raining. Before he could speak I had myarms around him, and he sank to his knees in my embrace. He wasbreathing heavily. 

"Tired out--thet's whut's the matter, " he muttered, leaning over onone hand. "Come through the woods t' save yer life, I did, an'they was tight up t' me all the way. "

"Poor fellow!" said the baroness, who stood at the door. "Help himin at once and give him a sip of brandy. "

"Tuk me prisoner over there 'n the woods thet day, " said he, sinking into a chair and leaning forward, his head on his hands. "They tuk 'n' they toted me over t' Canady, an' I tuk 'n' got away, 'n' they efter me. Killed one on 'em thet was chasin' uv me over'n the Beaver medders on the bog trail. Hoss got t' wallerin' sohe hed t' come down. Riz up out o' the grass 'n' ketched holt uv'im 'fore he c'u'd pull a weepon. Tuk this out uv his pocket, an'I tried to git the boss out o' the mire, but didn't hev time. "

He sat erect and proudly handed me a sheet of paper. I opened it, and read as follows:--

"To CAPTAIN ELIAS WILKINS, _Royal Fusiliers_. 

"_My dear Captain_: You will proceed at once across the river witha detail of five men mounted and three days' rations, and, ifpossible, capture the prisoner who escaped early this morning, making a thorough search of the woods in Jefferson County. He hasinformation of value to the enemy, and I regard his death orcapture of high and immediate importance. I am informed that theyoung desperado who murdered my Lord of Pickford in the forestbelow Clayton June 29, escaping, although badly wounded, is lyingat the country-seat of the Baroness de Ferre, a Frenchwoman, atLeraysville, Jefferson County, New York. It would gratify me ifyou could accomplish one or both captures. With respect, I am, "Your Obedient Servant, "R. SHEAFFER, _General Commanding_. "

"They 'll be here, " said D'ri. "They 'll be here jest es sure esGod--'fore daylight, mebbe. But I can't fight er dew nothin' tillI 've tied some vittles. "

"You shall have supper, " said the baroness, who, without delay, went to the kitchen herself with a servant to look after it. Thebutler brought a pair of slippers and a dry coat, while I drew offthe boots of my good friend. Then I gave him my arm as he limpedto the kitchen beside me. The baroness and I sat near him as heate. 

"Go upstairs and call the gentlemen, " said she to the butler, "Donot make any disturbance, but say I should like to speak with themin the dining room. "

"Is thet air hired man o' yours a Britisher?" D'ri inquired assoon as the butler was gone. 

"He is--from Liverpool, " said she. 

"Thet's the hole 'n the fence, " said he. "Thet's where the goosegot away. "

"The goose! The geese!" said the baroness, thoughtfully. "I donot understand you. "

"Went 'n' blabbed, thet's whut he done, " said D'ri. "Mebbe wrote'em a letter, gol-dum his pictur'. "

"Oh, I perceive! I understand, " said she; "and I send him awayto-morrow. "

"Neck's broke with hunger, " said D'ri. "Never threw no vittles 'nmy basket with sech a splendid taste tew 'em es these hev. "

The baroness looked at him with some show of worry. 

"I beg your pardon, " said she, "did you say the neck of you wasbroken?"

I explained the idiom. 

"Ain't hed nothin' t' eat since day 'fore yistiddy, " said D'ri. "Judas Priest! I 'm all et up with hunger. "

With old Burgundy and biscuit and venison and hot coffee he wasrapidly reviving. 

"I 'm wondering where I will hide you both, " said the baroness, thoughtfully. 

"Hed n't orter hev no rumpus here, 'n' go t' shootin' 'n' mebbespile yer house 'n' furnicher, " said D'ri. "'T ain't decent er 'tain't nice. We 'd better mek tracks an' put a mild er tew 'twixtus 'n' here 'fore we hev any trouble. 'T ain't a-goin' t' be noSunday School. Ef they can, they 're a-goin't' tek us dead er'live. Ef they ever tuk us we would n't be wuth shucks, nuther onus, efter court martial. "

"I shall not permit you to go, " said the baroness. "They may behere now, about the house in the dark. They would shoot you, theywould stab you, they would cause you to die as you went. No, Ishall permit you not to go, There are four of them? Very well, weshall fight here, we shall conquer. We have a general, a count, amillionnaire, a marquis, a lawyer, an astronomer, a scout, and, "she added, patting me on the shoulder, "_le brave capitaine_! Ihave four guns and three pistols, and M'sieur Bell has arms also. We shall conquer. We shall make them to bite the dust. "

"Guns; did ye say? Jerushy Jane! Le' 's hev 'em, " said D'ri. 

"What did he call me? Mon Dieu! Jerushy Jane! It is not I, " saidthe baroness. 

Again I explained the difficulty. 

"Ain't very proper-spoke, " said D'ri, apologetically. "Jest wan't'say et them 'air guns er likely t' come handy here 'most anyminute. Give us guns, 'n' we 'll sock it to 'em. "

"We shall sock it to them, we shall indeed, " said she, hurrying outof the room. "We shall make them to run for their lives. "

They were all in the dining room--the men of the party--save thegeneral, who could not he awakened. Guns and pistols were loaded. I made a novel plan of defence that was unanimously approved. Iposted a watch at every window. A little after dawn the baroness, from behind a curtain, saw a squad of horsemen coming through thegrove. 

"Ici! they have come!" said she, in a loud whisper. "There are notfour; there are many. "

I took my detail of six men above-stairs. Each had a strip oflumber we had found in the shop, and each carefully raised awindow, waiting the signal. I knew my peril, but I was never socool in my life. If I had been wiser, possibly I should have feltit the more. The horsemen promptly deployed, covering every sideof the mansion. They stood close, mounted, pistol and sabre ready. Suddenly I gave the signal. Then each of us thrust out the stripof lumber stealthily, prodding the big drab cones on every side. Hornets and wasps, a great swarm of them, sprang thick as seedsfrom the hand of a sower. It was my part to unhouse a colony ofthe long, white-faced hornets. Goaded by the ruin of their nests, they saw the nodding heads below them, and darted at man and horselike a night of arrows. They put their hot spurs into flank andface and neck. I saw them strike and fall; they do hit hard, thosebig-winged _Vespae_. It was terrible, the swift charge of thatwinged battalion of the air. I heard howls of pain below me, andthe thunder of rushing feet. The horses were rearing and plunging, the men striking with their hats. 

I heard D'ri shouting and laughing at his window. 

"Give 'em hell, ye little blue devils!" he yelled; and there wasall evidence that they understood him. 

Then, again, every man of us opened his window and fired a volleyat the scurrying mass. 

One horse, rearing and leaping on his hind legs, came down acrossthe back of another, and the two fell heavily in a rolling, convulsive heap. One, as if blinded, bumped a tree, going over onhis withers, all fours flashing in the air. Some tore off in thethickets, as unmanageable as the wild moose. More than half threwtheir riders. Not a man of them pulled a trigger: they were busyenough, God knows. Not one of them could have hit the sky with anycertainty. I never saw such a torrent of horsehair and red caps. 

"Whut! Been on the back o' one o' 'em hosses?" said D'ri, tellingof it a long time after. "'D ruther o' been shet up 'n a barrelwith a lot o' cats 'n' rolled downhill. Good deal better fer myhealth, an' I 'd 'a' luked more like a human bein' when I come out. Them fellers--they did n't luk fit t' 'sociate with nuthin' ernobody when we led 'em up t' the house--nut one on 'em. "

Only one Britisher was brought down by our bullets, and he had beenthe mark of D'ri: with him a rifle was never a plaything. Fiveothers lay writhing in the grass, bereft of horse, deserted bytheir comrades. The smudges were ready, and the nets. D'ri and Iput on the latter and ran out, placing a smudge row on every sideof the Hermitage. The winged fighters were quickly driven away. Of the helpless enemy one had staggered off in the brush; theothers lay groaning, their faces lumpy and one-sided. A bigsergeant had a nose of the look and diameter of a goose-egg; onecarried a cheek as large and protuberant as the jowl of a porker'shead; and one had ears that stuck out like a puffed bladder. Theywere helpless. We disarmed them and brought them in, doing all wecould for their comfort with blue clay and bruised plantain. Itwas hard on them, I have often thought, but it saved an ugly fightamong ladies, and, no doubt, many lives. I know, if they had takenus, D'ri and I would never have got back. 

I have saved myself many a time by strategy, but chose the swordalways if there were an even chance. And, God knows, if one hadever a look at our bare bodies, he would see no sign of shirking oneither D'ri or me. 

X

The shooting and shouting and the tramp of horse and man had rousedeverybody in the big house. Even the general came down to knowwhat was the matter. The young ladies came, pale and frightened, but in faultless attire. I put an armed guard by the prisoners atthe door, under command of D'ri. Then I had them bare the feet ofthe four Britishers, knowing they could not run bootless in thebrush. We organized a convoy, --the general and I, --and prepared tostart for the garrison. We kept the smudges going, for now andthen we could hear the small thunder of hornet-wings above us. There is a mighty menace in it, I can tell you, if they are angry. 

"Jerushy Jane Pepper!" said D'ri, as he sat, rifle on his knee, looking at his prisoners. "Never thought nobody c'u'd luk s'joemightyful cur'us. Does mek a man humly t' hev any trouble withthem air willy-come-bobs. " He meant wasps. 

I had had no opportunity for more than a word with the youngladies. I hoped it might come when I went in for a hasty breakfastwith the baroness, the count, the general, and Mr. Parish. As wewere eating, Louison came in hurriedly. She showed some agitation. 

"What is the trouble, my dear?" said the baroness, in French. 

"Eh bien, only this, " said she: "I have dropped my ring in thebrook. It is my emerald. I cannot reach it. "

"Too bad! She has dropped her ring in the brook, " said thebaroness, in English, turning to me. 

"If she will have the kindness to take me there, " I said to thehostess, rising as I spoke, "I shall try to get it for her. "

"M'sieur le Capitaine, you are very obliging, " said she. Then, turning to Louison, she added in French: "Go with him. He willrecover it for you. "

It pleased and flattered me, the strategy of this wonderful youngcreature. She led me, with dainty steps, through a dewy gardenwalk into the trail. 

"Parbleu!" she whispered, "is it not a shame to take you from yourmeat? But I could not help it. I had to see you; there issomething I wish to say. "

"A pretty girl is better than meat, " I answered quickly. "I amindebted to you. "

"My! but you have a ready tongue, " said she. "It is with me apleasure to listen. You are going away? You shall notreturn--perhaps?"

She was trying to look very gay and indifferent, but in her voice Icould detect a note of trouble. The flame of passion, quenched fora little time by the return of peril and the smoke of gunpowder, flashed up in me. 

"It is this, " she went on: "I may wish you to do me a favor. May Ihave your address?"

"And you may command me, " I said as I gave it to her. 

"Have a care!" she said, laughing. "I may ask you to do desperatethings--you may need all your valor. The count and thebaroness--they may send us back to France. "

"Which will please you, " I remarked. 

"Perhaps, " she said quickly. "Mon Dieu! I do not know what Iwant; I am a fool. Take this. Wear it when you are gone. Notthat I care--but--it will make you remember. "

She held in her fingers a flashing emerald on a tiny circlet ofgold. Before I could answer she had laid it in my hard palm andshut my hand upon it. 

"Dieu!" she exclaimed, whispering, "I must return--I must hurry. Remember, we did not find the ring. "

I felt a great impulse to embrace her and confess my love. But Iwas not quick enough. Before I could speak she had turned away andwas running. I called to her, but she did not turn or seem to hearme. She and my opportunity were gone. 

We stowed the prisoners in the big coach at the baroness, behind alively team of four. Then my horse and one for D'ri were broughtup. 

"Do not forget, " said the baroness, holding my hand, "you arealways welcome in my house. I hope, ma foi! that you will neverfind happiness until you return. "

The young ladies came not to the step where we were, but stood bythe count waving adieux. Louison had a merry smile and a prettyword of French for me; Louise only a sober look that made me sad, if it did not speak for the same feeling in her. The count was toremain at the Hermitage, having sent to the chateau for a squad ofhis armed retainers. They were to defend the house, if, by chance, the British should renew their attack. Mr. Parish and his footmanand the general went with us, the former driving. D'ri and I rodeon behind as the coach went off at a gallop. 

He was a great whip, that man David Parish, who had built a bigmansion at Ogdensburg and owned so much of the north country thosedays. He was a gentleman when the founders of the proud familiesof to-day were dickering in small merchandise. Indeed, one mightlook in vain for such an establishment as his north of Virginia. This side the Atlantic there was no stable of horses to be comparedwith that he had--splendid English thoroughbreds, the blood ofwhich is now in every great family of American horses. And, myfaith! he did love to put them over the road. He went tearing uphill and down at a swift gallop, and the roads were none too smoothin that early day. Before leaving home he had sent relays ahead toawait his coming every fifteen miles of the journey: he always didthat if he had far to go. This time he had posted them clear tothe Harbor. The teams were quickly shifted; then we were off againwith a crack of the whip and a toot of the long horn. He held upin the swamps, but where footing was fair, the high-mettled horseshad their heads and little need of urging. We halted at an inn fora sip of something and a bite to eat. 

"Parish, " said the general, rising on stiffened legs, "I like yourcompany and I like your wine, but your driving is a punishment. "

D'ri was worn out with lack of sleep and rest, but he had hungdoggedly to his saddle. 

"How do you feel?" I asked him as we drew up on each side of thecoach. 

"Split t' the collar, " said he, soberly, as he rested an elbow onhis pommel. 

We got to headquarters at five, and turned over the prisoners. Wehad never a warmer welcome than that of the colonel. 

"I congratulate you both, " he said as he brought the rum-bottleafter we had made our report. "You've got more fight in you than awolverene. Down with your rum and off to your beds, and reporthere at reveille. I have a tough job for you to-morrow. "

XI

It was, indeed, tougher business than we had yet known--a dash intothe enemy's country, where my poor head was in excellent demand. D'ri and I were to cross the lake with a band of raiders, a troopof forty, under my command. We were to rescue some prisoners in alockup on the other side. They were to be shot in the morning, andour mission therefore admitted of no delay. Our horses had beenput aboard a brig at midnight, and soon after the noon mess wedropped down the lake, going into a deep, wooded cove south of theGrenadier Island. There we lay waiting for nightfall. A big windwas howling over the woods at sunset, and the dark came on itswings an hour ahead of time. The night was black and the lakenoisy when we got under way, bound for a flatboat ferry. Ourskipper, it turned out, had little knowledge of those waters. Hehad shortened sail, and said he was not afraid of the weather. Thewind, out of the southeast, came harder as it drove us on. Beforewe knew it, the whole kit and boodle of us were in a devil of ashakeup there in the broad water. D'ri and I were down among thehorses and near being trampled under in the roll. We tried to putabout then, but the great gusts of wind made us lower sail and dropanchor in a hurry. Soon the horses were all in a tumble and one ontop of the other. We had to jump from back to back to saveourselves. It was no pretty business, I can tell you, to get tothe stairway. D'ri was stripped of a boot-leg, and I was cut inthe chin by a front hoof, going ten feet or so to the upper deck. To the man who was never hit in the chin by a horse's hoof let mesay there is no such remedy for a proud spirit. Bullets are mucheasier to put up with and keep a civil tongue in one's head. Thatlower deck was a kind of horses' hell. We had to let them alone. They got astraddle of one another's necks, and were cut from ear tofetlock--those that lived, for some of them, I could see, werebeing trampled to death. How many I never knew, for suddenly wehit a reef there in the storm and the black night. I knew we haddrifted to the north shore, and as the sea began to wash over us itwas every man for himself. The brig went up and down like asledge-hammer, and at every blow her sides were cracking andcaving. She keeled over suddenly, and was emptied of horse andman. A big wave flung me far among the floundering horses. Myfingers caught in a wet mane; I clung desperately between crowdingflanks. Then a big wave went over us. I hung on, coming upastride my capture. He swam vigorously, his nose high, blowinglike a trumpet. I thought we were in for a time of it, and hadvery little hope for any landing, save in kingdom come. Everyminute I was head under in the wash, and the roaring filled me withthat mighty terror of the windfall. But, on my word, there is nocaptain like a good horse in bad water. Suddenly I felt him hitthe bottom and go forward on his knees. Then he reared up, andbegan to jump in the sand. A big wave washed him down again. Hefell on his side in a shallow, but rose and ran wearily over a softbeach. In the blackness around me I could see nothing. A branchwhipped me in the face, and I ducked. I was not quick enough; itwas like fencing in the dark. A big bough hit me, raking thewithers of my horse, and I rolled off headlong in a lot of bushes. The horse went on, out of hearing, but I was glad enough to liestill, for I had begun to know of my bruises. In a few minutes Itook off my boots and emptied them, and wrung my blouse, and layback, cursing my ill luck. 

But that year of 1813 had the kick of ill fortune in it for everymother's son of us there in the North country. I have ever noticedthat war goes in waves of success or failure; If we had had Brownor Scott to lead us that year, instead of Wilkinson, I believe ithad had a better history. Here was I in the enemy's country. Godknew where, or how, or when I should come out of it. I thought ofD'ri and how it had gone with him in that hell of waters. I knewit would be hard to drown him. We were so near shore, if he hadmissed the rocks I felt sure he would come out safely. I thoughtof Louison and Louise, and wondered if ever I should see themagain. Their faces shone upon me there in the windy darkness, andone as brightly as the other. Afterwhiles I drew my wet blouseover me and went asleep, shivering. 

A familiar sound woke me--that of the reveille. The sun wasshining, the sky clear, the wind had gone down. A crow sat callingin a tree above my head. I lay in a strip of timber, thin andnarrow, on the lake shore. Through the bushes I could see themasts of the brig slanting out of water some rods away. Beyond thetimber was a field of corn, climbing a side-hill that sloped off toa level, grassy plain. Beyond the hill-top, reveille was stillsounding. A military camp was near me, and although I made nomove, my mind was up and busy as the drumsticks over the hill. Isat as quiet as a cat at a mouse-hole, looking down at my uniform, not, indeed, the most healthful sort of dress for that country. All at once I caught sight of a scarecrow in the corn. I laughedat the odd grotesquery of the thing--an old frock-coat and trousersof olive-green, faded and torn and fat with straw. A stake driventhrough its collar into the earth, and crowned with an ancient, tall hat of beaver, gave it a backbone. An idea came to me. Iwould rob the scarecrow and hide my uniform. I ran out and hauledit over, and pulled the stuffing out of it. The coat and trouserswere made for a stouter man. I drew on the latter, fattening myfigure with straw to fill them. That done, I quickly donned thecoat. Each sleeve-end fell to my fingertips, and its girth wouldhave circled a flour-barrel and buttoned with room to spare. Butwith my stuffing of straw it came around me as snug at the belt asthe coat of a bear. I took alarm as I closed the buttons. Forhalf a minute I had heard a drum-tap coming nearer. It was themeasured _tap! tap! tap-tap-tap_! so familiar to me. Now I couldhear the tread of feet coming with it back of the hill. How soonthey would heave in sight I was unable to reckon, but I dared notrun for cover. So I thrust my scabbard deep in the soft earth, pulled down the big beaver hat over my face, muffled my neck withstraw, stuck the stake in front of me to steady myself, and stoodstiff as any scarecrow in Canada. Before I was done a column, scarlet-coated, came out in the level beyond the hillside. Througha hole in the beaver I could see them clearly. They came on, rankafter rank. They deployed, forming an open square, scarlet-sided, on the green turf, the gap toward me. Then came three, walkingstiffly in black coats, a squad leading them. The thing I hadtaken for a white visor was a blindfold. Their heads were bare. Icould see, now, they were in shackles, their arms behind them. They were coming to their death--some of my unlucky comrades. Godpity them! A spy might as well make his peace with Heaven, if hewere caught those days, and be done with hope. Suspicion wasenough to convict on either side of the water that year. As myfeet sank deeper in the soft earth I felt as if I were going downto my grave. The soldiers led them into the gap, standing themclose together, backs to me, The squad drew off. The prisonersstood erect, their faces turning up a little, as if they werelooking into the clear, blue sky. I could see them waver as theystood waiting. The sharpshooters advanced, halting as they raisedtheir rifles. To my horror, I saw the prisoners were directlybetween me and them. Great God! was I also of that little companyabout to die? But I dared not move a step. I stood still, watching, trembling. An officer in a shining helmet was speakingto the riflemen. His helmet seemed to jump and quiver as he movedaway. Those doomed figures began to reel and sway as they waited. The shiny barrels lifted a little, their muzzles pointing at themand at me. The corn seemed to duck and tremble as it waited thevolley. A great black ball shot across the sky in a long curve, and began to fall. Then came the word, a flash of fire, a cloud ofsmoke, a roar of rifles that made me jump in my tracks. I heardbullets cuffing the corn, I felt the dirt fly up and scatter overme, but was unhurt, a rigid, motionless man of straw. I saw mycountrymen reel, their legs go limp as rags, their bodies fallsilently forward. The soldiers stood a moment, then a squad wentafter the dead with litters. Forming in fours, they marched awayas they had come, their steps measured by that regular _rap! rap!rap-rap-rap_! of the drum. The last rank went out of sight. Imoved a little and pulled the stake, and quickly stuck it again, for there were voices near. I stood waiting as stiff as a poker. Some men were running along the beach, two others were comingthrough the corn. They passed within a few feet of me on eachside. I heard them talking with much animation. They spoke of thewreck. When they were well by me I faced about, watching them. They went away in the timber, down to a rocky point, where I knewthe wreck was visible. 

They were no sooner out of sight than I pulled the stake and sabre, and shoved the latter under my big coat. Then I lifted the beaverand looked about me. There was not a soul in sight. From thatlevel plain the field ran far to a thick wood mounting over thehill. I moved cautiously that way, for I was in the path of peoplewho would be coming to see the wreck. I got near the edge of thedistant wood, and hearing a noise, halted, and stuck my stake, anddrew my hands back in the sleeves, and stood like a scarecrow, peering through my hat. Near me, in the woods, I could hear acracking of sticks and a low voice. Shortly two Irishmen stucktheir heads out of a bush. My heart gave a leap in me, for I sawthey were members of my troop. 

"Hello, there!" I called in a loud voice, It startled them. Theyturned their heads to see where the voice came from, and stoodmotionless. I pulled my stake and made for them on the run. Ishould have known better, for the sight of me would have tried thelegs of the best trooper that ever sat in a saddle. As they toldme afterward, it was enough to make a lion yelp. 

"Holy Mother!" said one, as they broke through the bush, runningfor their lives. I knew not their names, but I called them asloudly as I dared. They went on, never slacking pace. It was abad go, for I was burning for news of D'ri and the rest of them. Now I could hear some heavy animal bounding in the brush as iftheir running had startled him. I went back to the corn foranother stand. Suddenly a horse came up near me, cropping thebrush. I saw he was one off the boat, for he had bridle andsaddle, a rein hanging in two strings, and was badly cut. Myfriend! the sight of a horse did warm me to the toes. He got ataste of the tender corn presently, and came toward me as he ate. In a moment I jumped to the saddle, and he went away leaping like awild deer. He could not have been more frightened if I had droppedon him out of the sky. I never saw such energy in flesh and bloodbefore. He took a mighty fright as my hand went to his withers, but the other had a grip on the pommel, and I made the stirrups. Ileaned for the strings of the rein, but his neck was long, and Icould not reach them. Before I knew it we were tearing over thehill at a merry pace, I can tell you. I was never so put to it forthe right thing to do, but I clung on. The big hat shook down uponmy collar. In all my life I never saw a hat so big. Through thebreak in it I could see a farm-house. In a jiffy the horse hadcleared a fence, and was running, with the feet of terror, in adusty road. I grew angry at myself as we tore along--I knew notwhy. It was a rage of discomfort, I fancy, for somehow, I neverfelt so bound and cluttered, so up in the air and out of place inmy body. The sabre was working loose and hammering my knee; thebig hat was rubbing my nose, the straw chafing my chin. I hadsomething under my arm that would sway and whack the side of thehorse every leap he made. I bore upon it hard, as if it were thejewel of my soul. I wondered why, and what it might be. In amoment the big hole of my hat came into conjunction with my righteye. On my word, it was the stake! How it came there I have neverknown, but, for some reason, I held to it. I looked neither toright nor left, but sat erect, one hand on the hilt of my sabre, the other in the mane of my horse, knowing full well I was the mosthideous-looking creature in the world. If I had come to the gateof heaven I believe St. Peter would have dropped his keys. Thestraw worked up, and a great wad of it hung under my chin like abushy beard. I would have given anything for a sight of myself, and laughed to think of it, although facing a deadly peril, as Iknew. But I was young and had no fear in me those days. Wouldthat a man could have his youth to his death-bed! It was a leap inthe dark, but I was ready to take my chances. 

Evidently I was nearing a village. Groups of men were in the shadythoroughfare; children thronged the dooryards. There was everysign of a holiday. As we neared them I caught my sabre under myknee, and drew my hands into the long sleeves and waved themwildly, whooping like an Indian. They ran back to the fences witha start of fear. As I passed them they cheered loudly, wavingtheir hats and roaring with laughter. An old horse, standingbefore an inn, broke his halter and crashed over a fence. A scareddog ran for his life in front of me, yelping as he leaped over astone wall. Geese and turkeys flew in the air as I neared them. The people had seemed to take me for some village youth on amasquerade. We flashed into the open country before the sound ofcheering had died away. On we went over a long strip of hard soil, between fields, and off in the shade of a thick forest. My horsebegan to tire. I tried to calm him by gentle words, but I couldgive him no confidence in me. He kept on, laboring hard andbreathing heavily, as if I were a ton's weight. We came to anotherclearing and fields of corn. A little out of the woods, and nearthe road, was a log house white-washed from earth to eaves. By thegate my horse went down. I tumbled heavily in the road, andturning, caught him by the bits. The big hat had shot off my head;the straw had fallen away. A woman came running out of the opendoor. She had bare feet, a plump and cheery face. 

"Tonnerre!" said she. "Qu'est ce que cela?"

"My countrywoman, " said I, in French, feeling in my under-trousersfor a bit of silver, and tossing it to her, "I am hungry. "

"And I have no food to sell, " said she, tossing it back. "Youshould know I am of France and not of England. Come, you shallhave enough, and for no price but the eating. You have a tiredhorse. Take him to the stable, and I will make you a meal. "

I led my horse to the stable, scraped him of lather and dirt, gavehim a swallow of water, and took the same myself, for I had amighty thirst in me. When I came in, she had eggs and potatoes andbacon over the fire, and was filling the tea-kettle. 

"On my soul, " said she, frankly, "you are the oddest-looking man Iever saw. Tell me, why do you carry the long club?"

I looked down. There it was under my arm. It surprised me morethan anything I ever found myself doing. 

"Madame, it is because I am a fool, " I said as I flung it out ofthe door. 

"It is strange, " said she. "Your clothes--they are not your own;they are as if they were hung up to dry. And you have a sabre andspurs. "

"Of that the less said the better, " I answered, pulling out thesabre. "Unless--unless, madame, you would like me to die young. "

"Mon Dieu!" she whispered. "A Yankee soldier?"

"With good French blood in him, " I added, "who was never so hungryin all his life. "

I went out of the door as I spoke, and shoved my sabre under thehouse. 

"I have a daughter on the other side of the lake, " said she, "married to a Yankee, and her husband is fighting the British withthe rest of you. "

"God help him!" said I. 

"Amen!" said she, bringing my food to the table. "The greatNapoleon he will teach them a lesson. "

She was a widow, as she told me, living there alone with two youngdaughters who were off at a picnic in the near town. We weretalking quietly when a familiar voice brought me standing. 

"Judas Priest!" it said. D'ri stood in the doorway, hatless andone boot missing--a sorry figure of a man. 

"Hidin' over 'n th' woods yender, " he went on as I took his hand. "See thet air brown hoss go by. Knew 'im soon es I sot eyes on'im--use' t' ride 'im myself. Hed an idee 't wus you 'n thesaddle--sot s' kind o' easy. But them air joemightyful do's!Jerushy Jane! would n't be fit t' skin a skunk in them do's, wouldit?"

"Got 'em off a scarecrow, " I said. 

"'Nough t' mek a painter ketch 'is breath, they wus. "

The good woman bade him have a chair at the table, and brought morefood. 

"Neck 's broke with hunger, 't is sartin, " said he, as he began toeat. "Hev t' light out o' here purty middlin' soon. 'T ain' nosafe place t' be. 'T won' never dew fer us t' be ketched. "

We ate hurriedly, and when we had finished, the good woman gave useach an outfit of apparel left by her dead husband. It was rathersnug for D'ri, and gave him an odd look. She went out of doorswhile we were dressing. Suddenly she came back to the door. 

"Go into the cellar, " she whispered. "They are coming!"

XII

I found the door, and D'ri flung our "duds" into the darkness thatlay beyond it. Then he made down the ladder, and I after him. Itwas pitch-dark in the cellar--a deep, dank place with a rank odorof rotting potatoes. We groped our way to a corner, and stoodlistening. We heard the tramp of horses in the dooryard and theclinic of spurs on the stone step. 

"Ah, my good woman, " said a man with a marked English accent, "haveyou seen any Yankees? Woods are full of them around here. No?Well, by Jove! you're a good-looking woman. Will you give me akiss?" He crossed the floor above us, and she was backing away. 

"Come, come, don't be so shy, my pretty woman, " said he, and thenwe could hear her struggling up and down the floor. I was climbingthe ladder, in the midst of it, my face burning with anger, andD'ri was at my heels. As the door opened, I saw she had fallen. The trooper was bending to kiss her. I had him by the collar andhad hauled him down before he discovered us. In a twinkling D'rihad stripped him of sword and pistol. But it was one of the mosthopeless situations in all my life. Many muzzles were pointing atus through the door and window. Another hostile move from eitherwould have ended our history then and there. I let go and stoodback. The man got to his feet--a handsome soldier in the fulluniform of a British captain. 

"Ah, there's a fine pair!" he said coolly, whipping a leg of histrousers with his glove. "I 'll teach you better manners, my youngfellow. Some o' those shipwrecked Yankees, " he added, turning tohis men. "If they move without an order, pin 'em up to the wall. "

He picked up his hat leisurely, stepping in front of D'ri. 

"Now, my obliging friend, " said he, holding out his hand, "I'lltrouble you for my sword and pistol. "

D'ri glanced over at me, an ugly look in his eye. He would havefought to his death then and there if I had given him the word. Hewas game to the core when once his blood was up, the same old D'ri. 

[Illustration: "He would have fought to his death then and there ifI had given him the word. "]

"Don't fight, " I said. 

He had cocked the pistol, and stood braced, the sword in his righthand. I noticed a little quiver in the great sinews of his wrist. I expected to see that point of steel shoot, with a quick stab, into the scarlet blouse before me. 

"Shoot 'n' be damned!" said D'ri. "'Fore I die ye'll hev a hole ertew 'n thet air karkiss o' yourn. Sha'n't give up no weepon tillye've gin me yer word ye 'll let thet air woman alone. "

I expected a volley then. A very serious look came over the faceof the captain. He wiped his brow with a handkerchief. I couldsee that he had been drinking. 

"Ah, I see! You have an interest in her. Well, my man, I want noshare in your treasures. I accept the condition. "

Evil as was the flavor of this poor concession, D'ri made the bestof it. 

"She's an honest woman for all I know, " said he, handing over theweapons. "Ain't a-goin' t' see no ledy mishused--nut ef I can helpit. "

We gave ourselves up hand and foot to the enemy; there was no wayout of it. I have read in the story-books how men of great nerveand skill have slaughtered five to one, escaping with no great lossof blood. Well, of a brave man I like to believe good things. Myown eyes have seen what has made me slow to doubt a story ofprowess that has even the merit of possibility. But when there areonly two of you, and one without arms, and you are in a corner, andthere are ten pistols pointing at you a few feet away, and as manysabres ready to be drawn, I say no power less remarkable than thatof God or a novelist can bring you out of your difficulty. Youhave your choice of two evils--surrender or be cut to pieces. Wehad neither of us any longing to be slashed with steel and boredwith bullets, and to no end but a good epitaph. 

They searched the cellar and found our clothes, and wrapped them ina bundle. Then they tied our hands behind us and took us along theroad on which I had lately ridden. A crowd came jeering to thehighway as we passed the little village. It was my great fear thatsomebody would recognize either one or both of us. 

Four of our men were sitting in a guardhouse at the British camp. After noon mess a teamster drove up with a big wagon. Guards cameand shackled us in pairs, D'ri being wrist to wrist with me. Theyput a chain and ball on D'ri's leg also. I wondered why, for noother was treated with like respect. Then they bundled us allinto the wagon, now surrounded by impatient cavalry. They put ablindfold over the eyes of each prisoner, and went away at a livelypace. We rode a long time, as it seemed to me, and by and by Iknew we had come to a city, for I could hear the passing of manywagons and the murmur of a crowd. Some were shouting, "Shoot thed--d Yankees!" and now and then a missile struck among us. Thereis nothing so heartless and unthinking as a crowd, the world over. I could tell presently, by the creak of the evener and the strokeof the hoofs, that we were climbing a long hill. We stoppedshortly; then they began helping us out. They led us forward a fewpaces, the chain rattling on a stone pavement. When we heard thebang of an iron door behind us, they unlocked the heavy fetter. This done, they led us along a gravel walk and over a soundingstretch of boards, --a bridge, I have always thought, --throughanother heavy door and down a winding flight of stone steps. Theyled us on through dark passages, over stone paving, and halted us, after a long walk, letting our eyes free. We were in blackdarkness. There were two guards before and two behind us bearingcandles. They unshackled us, and opened a lattice door of heavyiron, bidding us enter. I knew then that we were going into adungeon, deep under the walls of a British fort somewhere on thefrontier. A thought stung me as D'ri and I entered this black holeand sat upon a heap of straw. Was this to be the end of ourfighting and of us?

"You can have a candle a day, " said a guard as he blew out the onehe carried, laying it, with a tinder-box, on a shelf in the wall ofrock beside me. Then they filed out, and the narrow door shut witha loud bang. We peered through at the fading flicker of thecandles. They threw wavering, ghostly shadows on every wall of thedark passage, and suddenly went out of sight. We both stoodlistening a moment. 

"Curse the luck!" I whispered presently. 

"Jest as helpless es if we was hung up by the heels, " said D'ri, groping his way to the straw pile. "Ain' no use gittin' wrathy. "

"What 'll we do?" I whispered. 

"Dunno, " said he; "an' when ye dunno whut t' dew, don' dew nuthin'. Jest stan' still; thet's whut I b'lieve in. "

He lighted the candle, and went about, pouring its glow upon everywall and into every crack and corner of our cell--a small chamberset firm in masonry, with a ceiling so far above our heads we couldsee it but dimly, the candle lifted arm's-length. 

"Judas Priest!" said D'ri, as he stopped the light with thumb andfinger. "I 'm goin' t' set here 'n th' straw luk an ol' hen 'n'ile up m' thinker 'n' set 'er goin'. One o' them kind hes t' keep'is mouth shet er he can't never dew ho thinkin'. Bymby, like esnot, I 'll hev suthin' t1 say et 'll 'mount t' suthin'. "

We lay back on the straw in silence. I did a lot of thinking thatbrought me little hope. Thoughts of Louison and Louise soon led meout of prison. After a little time I went philandering in thegroves of the baroness with the two incomparable young ladies. Iwould willingly have stood for another bullet if I could have hadanother month of their company. The next thought of my troublescame with the opening of the iron door. I had been sound asleep. A guard came in with water and a pot of stewed beef and potatoes. 

"Thet air's all right, " said D'ri, dipping into it with a spoon. 

We ate with a fine relish, the guard, a sullen, silent man with arough voice that came out of a bristling mustache, standing by thedoor. 

"Luk a-here, " said D'ri to the guard as we finished eating, "I wantt' ast you a question. Ef you hed a purty comf'table hum ont'other side, 'n' few thousan' dollars 'n the bank, 'n' bosses 'n'everything fixed fer a good time, 'n' all uv a sudden ye foundyerself 'n sech a gol-dum dungeon es this here, what 'u'd you dew?"

The guard was fixing the wick of his candle, and made no answer. 

"Want ye t' think it all over, " said D'ri. "See ef ye can't thinko' suthin' soothin' t' say. God knows we need it. "

The guard went away without answering. 

"Got him thinkin', " said D'ri, as he lighted the candle. "He canhelp us some, mebbe. Would n't wonder ef he was good et cipherin'. "

"If he offered to take the two thousand, I don't see how we'd giveit to him, " said I. "He would n't take our promise for it. "

"Thet ain' a-goin' t' bother us any, " said D'ri. "Hed thet allfiggered out long ago. "

He gave me the candle and lay down, holding his ear close to thestone floor and listening. Three times he shifted his ear from onepoint to another. Then he beckoned to me. 

"Jest hol' yer ear there 'n' listen, " he whispered. 

I gave him the candle, and with my ear to the floor I could hearthe flow of water below us. The sound went away in the distanceand then out of hearing. "After a while it came again. 

"What does it mean?" I asked. 

"Cipherin' a leetle over thet air, " said he, as he made a longscratch on the floor with his flint. Then he rubbed his chin, looking down at it. "Hain' jest eggzac'ly med up my mind yit, " headded. 

We blew out the light and lay back, whispering. Then presently weheard the coming of footsteps. Two men came to the door with acandle, one being the guard we knew. 

"Come, young fellow, " said the latter, as he unlocked the door andbeckoned to me; "they want you upstairs. "

We both got to our feet. 

"Not you, " he growled, waving D'ri back. "Not ready fer you yet. "

He laid hold of my elbow and snapped a shackle on my wrist. Thenthey led me out, closing the door with a bang that echoed in thefar reaches of the dark alley, and tied a thick cloth over my eyes. 

"Good luck!" D'ri cried out as they took me away. 

"For both, " I answered as cheerfully as I could. 

They led me through winding passages and iron doors, with thathorrible clank of the prison latch, and up flights of stone till Ifelt as lost as one might who falls whirling in the air from agreat height. We soon came out upon a walk of gravel, where Icould feel the sweet air blowing into my face. A few minutes moreand we halted, where the guard, who had hold of my elbow, rang abell. As the door swung open they led me in upon a soft carpet. Through the cloth I could see a light. 

"Bring him in, bring him in!" a voice commanded impatiently--adeep, heavy voice the sound of which I have not yet forgotten. Theguard was afraid of it. His hand trembled as he led me on. 

"Take off the blindfold, " said that voice again. 

As it fell away, I found myself in a large and beautiful room. Myeyes were dazzled by the light of many candles, and for a little Ihad to close them. I stood before two men. One sat facing me at ablack table of carved oak--a man of middle age, in the uniform of aBritish general. Stout and handsome, with brown eyes, dark hairand mustache now half white, and nose aquiline by the least turn, he impressed me as have few men that ever crossed my path. A youngman sat lounging easily in a big chair beside him, his legscrossed, his delicate fingers teasing a thin mustache. I noticedthat his hands were slim and hairy. He glanced up at me as soon asI could bear the light. Then he sat looking idly at the carpet, The silence of the room was broken only by the scratch of a quillin the hand of the general. I glanced about me. On the wall was alarge painting that held my eye: there was something familiar inthe face. I saw presently it was that of the officer I had foughtin the woods, the one who fell before me. I turned my head; theyoung man was looking up at me. A smile had parted his lips. Theywere the lips of a rake, it seemed to me. A fine set of teethshowed between them. 

"Do you know him?" he asked coolly. 

"I have not the honor, " was my reply. 

"What is your name?" the general demanded in the deep tone I hadheard before. 

"Pardon me, " said the young man, quietly, as if he were now wearyof the matter, "I do not think it necessary. "

There was a bit of silence. The general looked thoughtfully at theyoung man. 

"If your Lordship will let me--" he went on. 

"My dear sir, " the other interrupted, in the same weary andlethargic manner, "I can get more reliable knowledge from othersources. Let the fellow go back. "

"That will do, " said the general to the guard, who then covered myeyes and led me back to prison. 

Lying there in the dark, I told D'ri all I knew of my mysteriousjourney. My account of the young man roused him to the soul. 

"Wha' kind uv a nose hed he?" he inquired. 

"Roman, " I said. 

"Bent in at the p'int a leetle?"

"Yes. "

"And black hair shingled short?"

"Yes. "

"An' tall, an' a kind uv a nasty, snookin', mis'able-lookin' cuss?"

"Just about the look of him, " I said. 

"Judas Priest! He's one o' them sneks et tuk me when you wasfightin' t' other feller over there 'n the woods. "

"Looks rather bad for us, " I remarked. 

"Does hev a ruther squeaky luk tew it, " said he. "All we got t'dew is t' keep breathin' jest es nat'ral 'n' easy es can be till wefergit how. May fool 'em fust they know. "

I had a high notion, those days, of the duty of a soldier. Myfather had always told me there was no greater glory for anybodythan that of a brave death. Somehow the feeling got to be part ofme. While I had little fear of death, I dreaded to be shot like afelon. But I should be dying for my country, and that feelingseemed to light the shadows. When I fell asleep, after much worry, it was to dream of my three countrymen who had fallen to theirfaces there by the corn. I awoke to find the guard in our cell, and D'ri and he whispering together. He had come with ourbreakfast. 

"All I want, " D'ri was saying, "is a piece of iron, with a sharpend, half es long es yer arm. "

He made no answer, that big, sullen, bull-dog man who brought ourfood to us. When he had gone, D'ri lay over and began laughingunder his breath. 

"His thinker's goin' luk a sawmill, " he whispered. "Would n'twonder ef it kep' 'im awake nights. He was askin' 'bout thet airtew thousan' dollars. Ef they 'll let us alone fer three days, we'll be out o' here. Now, you mark my word. "

"How?" I inquired. 

"Jest a leetle job o' slidin' downhill, " he said. "There's a bigdrain-pipe goes under this cell--t' the river, prob'ly. He saysit's bigger 'n a barrel. "

We saved our candle that day, and walked up and down, from wall towall, for exercise. Our hopes were high when we heard footsteps, but they fell suddenly, for, as we listened, we could hear thetramp of a squad of men. They came to our cell, and took usupstairs, blind-folded as before, to a bath-room, where theuniforms, discarded the day of our capture, were waiting for us, newly pressed. Our bath over, they directed us to put them on. They gave us new hats, for our own had been lost the night of thewreck, covered our eyes, and led us through many doors and alleysinto the open air. It was dark, I knew, for as we entered acarriage I could see dimly the glow of a lantern hanging over thewheel. The carriage went away swiftly on a level road. We satknee to knee, with two men facing us, and not a word was spoken. We could hear hoofs falling, the rattle of bit and rein, the creakof saddle-leather on each side of us. We must have gone a longjourney when the carriage halted. They pulled us out roughly andled us up three steps and across a deep veranda. A bell rang, adoor swung open, a flood of light fell on us, filtering to oureyes. Entering, we could feel a carpet under us, and took a dozenpaces or more before they bade us halt. We heard only thelow-spoken order and the soft tread of our feet. There was a deadsilence when they removed our fetters and unbound our eyes. Wewere standing in a big and sumptuous drawing-room. A company ofgentlemen sat near us in arm-chairs; there were at least a score ofthem. Round tables of old mahogany stood near, on which wereglasses and packs of cards and wine-bottles. The young man who satwith the general and answered to "your Lordship" was approachingme, hand extended. 

"Glad to see you; sit down, " he said in the same quiet, languid, forceful tone I had heard before. 

It was all very odd. The guards were gone; we were apparently asfree as any of them. 

"I shall try to make you comfortable, " he remarked. A servantbegan filling a row of glasses. "We have here wine and wit and allthe accessories, including women. I should introduce you, but Ihave not the honor of your acquaintance. Let it suffice to saythese are my friends" (he turned to those who sat about), "and, gentlemen, these are my enemies, " he added, turning to us. "Let ushope they may die happy. "

"And with a fighting chance, " I added, lifting the glass withouttasting it. 

D'ri sat, his brows lifted, his hands in his pockets, his legscrossed. He looked curiously from one to another. 

"Horton, " said his Lordship, as he sat down, leaning lazily on thearm of his chair, "will you have them bring down the prisoners?"

The servant left the room. Some of the men were talking togetherin low tones; they were mostly good-looking and well dressed. 

"Gentlemen, " said his Lordship, rising suddenly, "I'm going to turnyou out of here for a moment--they're a shy lot. Won't you go intothe library?"

They all rose and went out of a door save one, a bald man of middleage, half tipsy, who begged of his "Ludship" the privilege ofremaining. 

"Sir Charles, " said the young man, still lounging in his chair ashe spoke, in that cold, calm tone of his, "you annoy me. Go atonce!" and he went. 

They covered our faces with napkins of white linen. Then we heardheavy steps, the clank of scabbards on a stairway, the feet ofladies, and the swish of their gowns. With a quick movement ourfaces were uncovered. I rose to my feet, for there before me stoodLouison and the Baroness de Ferre, between two guards, and, behindthem, Louise, her eyes covered, her beautiful head bent low. Icould see that she was crying. The truth came to me in a flash ofthought. They had been taken after we left; they were prisonersbrought here to identify us. A like quickness of perception hadapparently come to all. We four stood looking at one another withno sign of recognition. My face may have shown the surprise andhorror in me, but shortly I had recovered my stony calm. Theladies were dressed finely, with the taste and care I had so muchadmired. Louison turned away from me with a splendid dignity andstood looking up at the wall, her hands behind her, a toe of oneshoe tapping the floor impatiently. It was a picture to remember alifetime. I could feel my pulse quicken as I looked upon her. Thebaroness stood, sober-faced, her eyes looking down, her fan movingslowly. His Lordship rose and came to Louise. 

"Come, now, my pretty prisoner; it is disagreeable, but you mustforgive me, " he said. 

[Illustration: "Come, now, my pretty prisoner; it is disagreeable, but you must forgive me. "]

She turned away from him, drying her eyes. Then presently theirbeauty shone upon me. 

"Grace au ciel!" she exclaimed, a great joy in her eyes and voice. "It is M'sieur Bell. Sister--baroness--it is M'sieur Bell!"

I advanced to meet her, and took her hand, kissing it reverently. She covered her face, her hand upon my shoulder, and wept insilence. If it meant my death, I should die thanking God I knew, or thought I knew, that she loved me. 

"Ah, yes; it is M'sieur Bell--poor fellow!" said Louison, comingquickly to me. "And you, my dear, you are Ma'm'selle Louise. "

She spoke quickly in French, as if quite out of patience with thepoor diplomacy of her sister. 

"I knew it was you, for I saw the emerald on your finger, " sheadded, turning to me, "but I could not tell her. "

"I am glad, I am delighted, that she spoke to me, " I said. Idesired to save the fair girl, whose heart was ever as a child's, any sorrow for what she had done. "I was about to speak myself. It is so great a pleasure to see you all I could not longer enduresilence. "

"They made us prisoners; they bring us here. Oh, m'sieur, it isterrible!" said the baroness. 

"And he is such a horrible-looking monkey!" said Louison. 

"Do they treat you well?" I asked. 

"We have a big room and enough to eat. It is not a bad prison, butit is one terrible place, " said the baroness. "There is a bigwall; we cannot go beyond it. "

"And that hairy thing! He is in love with Louise. He swears hewill never let us go, " said Louison, in a whisper, as she cameclose to me, "unless--unless she will marry him. "

"Ah! a tea-party, " said his Lordship, coming toward us. "Pardonthe interruption. I have promised to return these men at nine. Itis now ten minutes of the hour. Ladies, I wish you all a very goodnight. "

He bowed politely. They pressed my hand, leaving me with suchanxiety in their faces that I felt it more than my own peril, Louison gave me a tender look out of her fine eyes, and the thoughtof it was a light to my soul in many an hour of darkness. She hadseemed so cool, so nonchalant, I was surprised to feel the tremorin her nerves. I knew not words to say when Louise took my hand. 

"Forgive me--good-by!" said she. 

It was a faint whisper out of trembling lips. I could see her soulin her face then. It was lighted with trouble and a nobler beautythan I had ever seen. It was full of tenderness and pity andthings I could not understand. 

"Have courage!" I called as they went away. 

I was never in such a fierce temper as when, after they had goneabove-stairs, I could hear one of them weeping. D'ri stood quietlybeside me, his arms folded. 

"Whut ye goin' t' dew with them air women?" he asked, turning tothe young man. 

"I beg you will give me time to consider, " said his Lordship, calmly, as he lighted a cigarette. 

There was a quick move in the big tower of bone and muscle besideme. I laid hold of D'ri's elbow and bade him stop, or I fear hisLordship's drawing-room, his Lordship, and ourselves wouldpresently have had some need of repair. Four guards who seemed tobe waiting in the hall entered hurriedly, the shackles in hand. 

"No haste, " said his Lordship, more pleasantly than ever. "Standby and wait my orders. "

"D' ye wan' t' know whut I think o' you?" said D'ri, looking downat him, his eyes opening wide, his brow wrinkling into long furrows. 

"I make a condition, " said his Lordship: "do not flatter me. "

"Yer jest a low-lived, mis'able, wuthless pup, " said D'ri, "Away with them!" said his Lordship, flicking the ashes off acigarette as he rose and walked hurriedly out of the room. 

XIII

The waiting guards laid hold of us in a twinkling, and others camecrowding the doors. They shackled our hands behind us, and coveredour eyes again. Dark misgivings of what was to come filled me, butI bore all in silence. They shoved us roughly out of doors, andthere I could tell they were up to no child's play. A loud jeerburst from the mouths of many as we came staggering out. I couldhear the voices of a crowd. They hurried us into a carriage. 

"We demand the prisoners!" a man shouted near me. 

Then I could hear them scuffling with the guards, who, I doubt not, were doing their best to hold them back. In a moment I knew themob had possession of us and the soldiers were being hustled away. D'ri sat shoulder to shoulder with me. I could feel his musclestighten; I could hear the cracking of his joints and the grindingof the shackle-chain. "Judas Pr-r-i-e-st!" he grunted, strainingat the iron. Two men leaped into the carriage. There was a crackof the whip, and the horses went off bounding. We could hearhorsemen all about us and wagons following. I had a stout heart inme those days, but in all my life I had never taken a ride solittle to my liking. We went over rough roads, up hill and down, for an hour or more. 

I could see in prospect no better destination than our graves, and, indeed, I was not far wrong. Well, by and by we came to a townsomewhere--God knows where. I have never seen it, or known thename of it, or even that of the prison where we were first immured. I could tell it was a town by the rumble of the wheels and eachechoing hoof-beat. The cavalcade was all about us, and now andthen we could hear the sound of voices far behind. The processionslowed up, horsemen jammed to the left of us, the carriage halted. I could hear footsteps on a stone pavement. 

"You're late, " said a low voice at the carriage door. "It's neareleven. "

"Lot o' fooling with the candidates, " said one of the horsemen, quietly. "Everything ready?"

"Everything ready, " was the answer. 

The carriage door swung open. 

"We get out here, " said one of the men who sat with us. 

I alighted. On each side of me somebody put his hand to myshoulder. I could see the glow of a lantern-light close to myface. I knew there was a crowd of men around, but I could hearnothing save now and then a whisper. 

"Wall, Ray, " said D'ri, who stood by my side, "hol' stiddy 'n'don't be scairt. "

"Do as they tell ye, " a stranger whispered in my ear. "No matterwhat 't is, do as they tell ye. "

They led us into a long passage and up a steep flight of woodenstairs. I have learned since then it was a building equipped by awell-known secret society for its initiations. [1] We went onthrough a narrow hall and up a winding night that seemed to meinterminable. Above it, as we stopped, the man who was leading merapped thrice upon a rattling wooden door. It broke the silencewith a loud echoing noise. I could hear then the sliding of apanel and a faint whispering and the sound of many feet ascendingthe stairs below. The door swung open presently, and we were ledin where I could see no sign of any light. They took me aloneacross a wide bare floor, where they set me down upon some sort ofplatform and left me, as I thought. Then I could hear thewhispered challenge at the door and one after another entering andcrossing the bare floor on tiptoe. Hundreds were coming in, itseemed to me. Suddenly a deep silence fell in that dark place ofevil. The blindfold went whisking off my head as if a ghostly handhad taken it. But all around me was the darkness of the pit. Icould see and I could hear nothing but a faint whisper, high aboveme, like that of pine boughs moving softly in a light breeze. Icould feel the air upon my face. I thought I must have been movedout of doors by some magic. It seemed as if I were sitting undertrees alone. Out of the black silence an icy hand fell suddenlyupon my brow. I flinched, feeling it move slowly downward over myshoulder. I could hear no breathing, no rustle of garments nearme. In that dead silence I got a feeling that the hand touching mehad no body behind it. I was beyond the reach of fear--I was in away prepared for anything but the deep, heart-shaking horror thatsank under the cold, damp touch of those fingers. They laid holdof my elbow firmly, lifting as if to indicate that I was to rise. I did so, moving forward passively as it drew me on. To myastonishment I was unable to hear my own footfall or that of myconductor. I thought we were walking upon soft earth. Crossingour path in front of me I could see, in the darkness, a gleamingline. We moved slowly, standing still as our toes covered it. Then suddenly a light flashed from before and below us. A coldsweat came out upon me; I staggered back to strong hands that werelaid upon my shoulders, forcing me to the line again. By thatflash of light I could see that I was standing on the very brink ofsome black abyss--indeed, my toes had crossed the edge of it. Thelight came again, flickering and then settling into a steady glow. The opening seemed to have a grassy bottom some ten feet below. Infront of me the soil bristled, on that lower level, with some blackand pointed plant: there was at least a score of them. As Ilooked, I saw they were not plants, but a square of bayonetsthrust, points up, in the ground. A curse came out of my hotmouth, and then a dozen voices mocked it, going fainter, like adying echo. I heard a whisper in my ear. A tall figure in awinding-sheet, its face covered, was leaning over me. 

"To hesitate is to die, " it whispered. "Courage may save you. "

Then a skeleton hand came out of the winding-sheet, pointing downat the square of bristling bayonets. The figure put its mouth tomy ear. 

"Jump!" it whispered, and the bare bones of the dead fingersstirred impatiently. 

Some seconds of a brief silence followed. I could hear them slowlydripping out of eternity in the tick of a watch near me. I feltthe stare of many eyes invisible to me. A broad beam of brightlight shot through the gloom, resting full upon my face. I startedback upon the strong hands behind me. Then I felt my musclestighten as I began to measure the fall and to wonder if I couldclear the bayonets. I had no doubt I was to die shortly, and itmattered not to me how, bound as I was, so that it came soon. Fora breath of silence my soul went up to the feet of God for help andhope. Then I bent my knees and leaped, I saw much as my body wentrushing through the air--an empty grave its heap of earth besideit, an island of light, walled with candles, in a sea of gloom, faces showing dimly in the edge of the darkness, "Thank God! Ishall clear the bayonets, " I thought, and struck heavily upon asoft mat, covered over with green turf, a little beyond thatbristling bed. I staggered backward, falling upon it. To mysurprise, it bent beneath me. They were no bayonets, but onlyshells of painted paper. I got to my feet none the worse forjumping, and as dumfounded as ever a man could be. I stood on alot of broken turf with which a wide floor had been overlaid. Boards and timbers were cut away, and the grave dug beneath them. I saw one face among others in the gloom beyond the candlerows--that of his Lordship. He was coming up a little flight ofstairs to where I stood. He moved the candles, making a smallpassage, and came up to me. 

"You're a brave man, " said he, in that low, careless tone of his. 

"And you a coward, " was my answer, for the sight of him had made meburn with anger. 

"Don't commit yourself on a point like that, " said he, quickly, "for, you know, we are not well acquainted. I like your pluck, andI offer you what is given to few here--an explanation. "

He paused, lighting a cigarette. I stood looking at him. The coldpoliteness of manner with which he had taken my taunt, his perfectself-mastery, filled me with wonder. He was no callow youth, thatman, whoever he might be. He was boring at the floor with the endof a limber cane as he continued to address me. 

"Now, look here, " he went on, with a little gesture of his lefthand, between the fingers of which a cigarette was burning. "Youare now in the temple of a patriotic society acting with no letterspatent, but in the good cause of his Most Excellent Majesty KingGeorge III, to whom be health and happiness. "

As he spoke the name he raised his hat, and a cheer came from allsides of us. 

"It is gathered this night, " he continued, "to avenge the death ofLord Ronley, a friend of his Majesty, and of many here present, andan honored member of this order. For his death you, and you alone, are responsible, and, we suspect, under circumstances of no creditto your sword. Many of our people have been cut off from theircomrades and slain by cowardly stealth, have been led into ambushand cruelly cut to pieces by an overwhelming number, have been shutin prison and done to death by starvation or by stabs of a knifethere in your country. Not content with the weapons of a soldier, you have even resorted to the barbarity of the poison-wasp. Pardonme, but you Yankees do not seem to have any mercy or fairness for afoe. We shall give you better treatment. You shall not be killedlike a rat in a trap. You shall have a chance for your life. Hadyou halted, had you been a coward, you would not have been worthyto fight in this arena. You would not have come where you arestanding, and possibly even now your grave would have been filled. If you survive the ordeal that is to come, I hope it will prove anexample to you of the honor that is due to bravery, of the fairnessdue a foe. "

Many voices spoke the word "Amen" as he stopped, turning to beckoninto the gloom about us. I was now quite over my confusion. Ibegan to look about me and get my bearings. I could hear a stir inthe crowd beyond the lights, and a murmur of voices. Reflectinglanterns from many pillars near by shot their rays upon me. Istood on a platform, some thirty feet square, in the middle of alarge room. Its floor was on a level with the faces of the manywho stood pressing to the row of lights, Here, I took it, I was tofight for my life, I was looking at the yawning grave in the cornerof this arena, when four men ascended with swords and pistols. Oneof them removed the shackles, letting my hands free. I thanked himas he tossed them aside. I was thinking of D'ri, and, shading myeyes, looked off in the gloom to see if I could discover him. Icalled his name, but heard no answer. His Lordship came over tome, bringing a new sword. He held the glittering blade before me, its hilt in his right hand, its point resting on the fingers of hisleft. "It's good, " said he, quietly; "try it. "

It was a beautiful weapon, its guard and pommel and quillonssparkling with wrought-silver, its grip of yellow leather lacedwith blue silk. The glow and the feel of it filled me with a joy Ihad not known since my father gave me the sword of my childhood. It drove the despair out of me, and I was a new man. I tried theblade, its point upon my toe. It was good metal, and the gripfitted me. 

"Well, how do you find it?" said he, impatiently. 

"I am satisfied, " was my reply. 

He helped me take off my blouse and waistcoat, and then I rolled mysleeves to the elbow. The hum of voices had grown louder. I couldhear men offering to bet and others bantering for odds. 

"We'll know soon, " said a voice near me, "whether he could havekilled Ronley in a fair fight. "

I turned to look at those few in the arena. There were half adozen of them now, surrounding my adversary, a man taller than therest, with a heavy neck and brawny arms and shoulders. He had comeout of the crowd unobserved by me. He also was stripped to theshirt, and had rolled up his sleeves, and was trying the steel. Hehad a red, bristling mustache and overhanging brows and a vulgarface--not that of a man who settles his quarrel with the sword. Ijudged a club or a dagger would have been better suited to hisgenius. But, among fighters, it is easy to be fooled by a face. In a moment the others had gone save his Lordship and that portlybald-headed man I had heard him rebuke as "Sir Charles. " Myadversary met me at the centre of the arena, where we shook hands. I could see, or thought I could, that he was entering upon abusiness new to him, for there was in his manner an indication ofunsteady nerves. 

"Gentlemen, are you ready?" said his Lordship. 

But there are reasons why the story of what came after should benone of my telling. I leave it to other and better eyes that werenot looking between flashes of steel, as mine were. And then onehas never a fair view of his own fights. 

[1] The intrepid Fitzgibbon, the most daring leader on the Canadianfrontier those days, told me long afterward that he knew thebuilding--a tall frame structure on the high shore of a tributaryof the St. Lawrence. It was built on a side of the bluff and usedoriginally as a depot for corn, oats, rye, and potatoes, that camedown the river in bateaux. The slide was a slanting box throughwhich the sacks of grain were conveyed to sloops and schoonersbelow. It did not pay and was soon abandoned, whereupon it wasrented by the secret order referred to above. The slide bottom wascoated with lard and used for the hazing of candidates. A prizefight on the platform was generally a feature of the entertainment. A man was severely injured in a leap on the bayonets, after whichthat feature of the initiation was said to have been abandoned. 

XIV

This is the story of Corporal Darius Olin, touching his adventurein the Temple of the Avengers, at some unknown place in UpperCanada, on the night of August 12, 1813, and particularly theordeals of the sword, the slide, and the bayonet to which CaptainRamon Bell was subjected that night, as told to Adjutant AsariusChurch, at Sackett's Harbor, New York:--

"Soon es I see whut wus up, I gin a powerful lift on thet airshackle-chain. I felt 'er give 'n' bust. A couple o' men clim'int' the seat front uv us, 'n' the hosses started hell bent. I sotup with my hands 'hind uv me 'n the wagin. I kep' 'em there tight'n' stiff, es ef the iron wus holdin' uv 'em. Could n't git nochance t' say nuthin' t' Ray. Hustled us upstairs, 'n' when wecome in t' thet air big room they tuk him one way an' me 'nother. 

"Didn't hev no idee where I wus. Felt 'em run a chain through myarms, careful, efter they sot me down. I sot still fer mebbe fiveminutes. Seemed so ev'rybody'd gone out o' the place. Could n'thear nuthin' nowhere. I le' down the chain jest es ca-areful es Icould, 'n' tuk off the blindfold. 'Twas all dark; could n't see myhand afore me. Crep' 'long the floor. See 't was covered withsawdust. Tuk off m' boots, 'n' got up on m' feet, 'n' walkedcareful. Did n' dast holler t' Ray. Cal'lated when the squabblecome I 'd be ready t' dew business. All t' once I felt a slant 'nthe floor. 'T was kind o' slip'ry, 'n' I begun t' slide. Feetwent out from under me 'n' sot me down quick. Tried t' ketch holto' suthin'. Could n't hang on; kep' goin' faster. Fust I knew I'd slid int' some kind uv a box. Let me down quicker 'n scat overthet air grease a little ways. I out with my tew hands 'n' boreag'in' the sides o' th' box powerful 'n' stopped myself. Then I upwith these here feet o' mine. See the top o' the box wa'n't muchmore 'n a foot above me. Tried t' crawl up ag'in. Couldn't mekit. Dum thing slanted luk Tup's Hill. Hung on awhile, cipherin'es hard es I knew how. Hearn suthin' go kerslap. Seem so the hullplace trembled. Raised up my head, 'n' peeked over my stumick downthe box. A bar o' light stuck in away down. Let myself go carefultill I c'u'd see my nose in it. Then I got over on my shoulder 'n'braced on the sides o' the box, back 'g'in' one side 'n' knees'g'in' t'other. See 't was a knot-hole where the light come in, 'bout es big es a man's wrist. Peeked through, 'n' see a lot o'lights 'n' folks, 'n' hearn 'em talkin'. Ray he stud on a platformfacin' a big, powerful-lookin' cuss. Hed their coats 'n' vestsoff, 'n' sleeves rolled up, 'n' swords ready. See there wus goin't' be a fight. Hed t' snicker--wa'n' no way I c'u'd help it, fer, Judas Priest! I knew dum well they wa'n't a single one of them airBritishers c'u'd stan' 'fore 'im. Thet air mis'able spindlin'devil I tol' ye 'bout--feller et hed the women--he stud back o'Ray. Hed his hand up luk thet. 'Fight!' he says, 'n' they got t'work, 'n' the crowd begun t' jam up 'n' holler. The big feller hecome et Ray es ef he wus goin' t' cut him in tew. Ray he tuk iteasy 'n' rassled the sword of the big chap round 'n' round es ef itwus tied t' hisn. Fust I knew he med a quick lunge 'n' pricked 'im'n the arm. Big chap wus a leetle shy then. Did n't come up t'the scratch es smart 'n' sassy es he'd orter. Ray he went efter'im hammer 'n' tongs. Thet air long slim waist o' hisn swayed 'n'bent luk a stalk o' barley. He did luk joemightyful han'some--wish't ye c'u'd 'a' seen 'im thet air night. Hair wus jest es shiny esgold 'n the light o' them candles. He 'd feint, an' t' other 'ddodge. Judas Priest! seemed so he put the p'int o' the sword allover thet air big cuss. C'u'd 'a' killed 'im a dozen times, but Isee he did n't want t' dew it. Kep' prickin' 'im ev'ry lunge 'n'druv 'im off the boards--tumbled 'im head over heels int' thecrowd. Them air devils threw up their hats 'n' stomped 'n'hollered powerful, es ef 't were mighty fun t' see a man cut t'pieces. Wall, they tuk up another man, quicker 'n the fust, but hewa'n' nowhere near s' big 'n' cordy. Wa'n't only one crack o' theswords in thet air fight. Could n't hardly say Jack Robinson 'forethe cuss hed fell. Ray hurt him bad, I guess, for they hed t' pick'im up 'n' carry 'im off luk a baby. Guess the boy see 't he hed agood many to lick, 'n' hed n't better waste no power a-foolin'. All t' once thet air low-lived, spindlin', mis'able devil he comet' the edge o' the platform 'n' helt up his hand. Soon 's theystopped yellin' he says; 'Gentlemen, ' he says, 'sorry t' tell yethet the man fer the next bout hes got away. We left him securelyfastened up 'n the fust chamber. Have hed the building searched, but ain't able t' find him. He must hev gone down the slide. I amsorry to say we hev no more Yankees. If this man fights any moreit will hev t' be a Britisher thet goes ag'in' 'im. Is there avolunteer?'

"Ray he runs up 'n' says suthin' right 'n his ear. Could n't hearwhut 'twus. Did n' set well. T' other feller he flew mad, 'n'Ray he fetched 'im a cuff, luk thet, with the back uv his hand. Yesee, he did n' know he hed been a-fightin' Yankees, 'n' he did n'like the idee. 'Gentlemen, ' says he, 'I 'll fight anybody, but efthis chap ain't a coward, he 'll fight me himself. ' T'other fellerhe off with his coat 'n' vest es quick es a flash 'n' picked up asword. 'Fight, then, ye cub!' says he; an' they flew at each otherhell bent fer 'lection. He wa'n' no fool with a sword, nuther, Ican tell ye, thet air spindlin' cuss. I see Ray hed his han'sfull. But he wus jest es cool es a green cowcumber, eggzac'ly. Kep' a-cuffin' t' other sword, 'n' let 'im hit 'n' lunge 'n' feintes much es he pleased. See he wus jest a-gettin' his measure, 'n'I knew suthin' wus goin' t' happen purty quick. Fust I knew heketched Ray by the shirtsleeve with the p'int uv 'is sword 'n'ripped it t' the collar. Scairt me so I bit my tongue watchin' uv'em. They got locked, 'n' both swords came up t' the hiltst'gether with a swish 'n' a bang luk thet. The blades clung, 'n'they backed off. Then Ray he begun t' feint 'n' lunge 'n' hustle'im. Quicker 'n scat he gin 'im an awful prick 'n the shoulder. Ic'u'd see the blood come, but they kep' a-goin' back 'n' forth 'n'up 'n' down desperit. The red streak on thet air feller's shirtkep' a-growin'. Purty quick one side uv 'im wus red an' t' otherwhite. See he wus gettin' weaker 'n' weaker. Ray c'u'd 'a'split 'im t' the navel ef he'd only hed a min' tew. All t' once hemed a jab at Ray, 'n' threw up 'is han's, 'n' went back a step ertew, luk a boss with th' blin' staggers, 'n' tumbled head overheels in thet air open grave. There wus hell t' pay fer a minute. Lot on 'em clim' over the row o' lights, yellin' luk wildcats, 'n'hauled thet air mis'able cuss out o' the grave, 'n' stud 'im up, 'n' gin 'im a drink o' liquor. In half a minute he up with hishan'kerchief 'n' waved it over 'is head t' mek 'em keep still. Soon 's they wus quiet he up 'n' he says: 'Gentlemen, ' says he, 'this 'ere chap hes stood the test o' the sword. Are yesatisfied?' 'We are, ' says they--ev'ry British son uv a gun theywus there up 'n' hollered, 'Then, ' says he, 'giv' 'im th' slide. '

"Ray he put down 'is sword 'n' picked up 'is coat 'n' vest. Thenthey grabbed th' lights, 'n' thet 's th' last I see on' em there. Purty quick 'twus all dark. Hearn 'em comin' upstairs 'n goin''cross th' floor over my head. 'Gun t' think o' myself a leetlebit then. Knowed I was in thet air slide, an' hed t' le' go purtyquick. Hed n't no idee where it went tew, but I cal'lated I wusmiddlin' sure t' know 'fore long. Knowed when I le' go I wus goin't' dew some tall slippin' over thet air greased bottom. See alight come down th' box 'n a minute. Hearn somebody speakin' thereet the upper end. 

"'This 'ere's th' las' test o' yer courage, ' says a man, says he;'few comes here alive 'n' sound es you be. Ye wus a doomed man. Ye 'd hev been shot at daylight, but we gin ye a chance fer yerlife. So fur ye 've proved yerself wuthy. Ef ye hold yer courage, ye may yit live. Ef ye flinch, ye 'll land in heaven. Ef yer lifeis spared, remember how we honor courage. '

"Then they gin 'im a shove, 'n' I hearn 'im a-comin'. I floppedover 'n' le' go. Shot away luk a streak o' lightnin'. Dum thinggrew steeper 'n' steeper. Jes' hel' up my ban's 'n' let 'er golickitty split. Jerushy Jane Pepper! jes' luk comin' down agreased pole. Come near tekin' my breath away--did sart'n. Wentout o' thet air thing luk a bullet eggzac'ly. Shot int' the airfeet foremust. Purty fair slidin' up in the air 'most anywheres, ye know. Alwus come down by the nighest way. 'T was darker 'npitch; could n't see a thing, nut a thing. Hearn Ray come out o'the box 'bove me. Then I come down k'slap in th' water 'n' sunk. Thought I 'd never stop goin' down. 'Fore I come up I hearn Rayrip int' th' water nigh me. I come up 'n' shook my head, 'n'waited. Judas Priest! thought he wus drownded, sart'n. Seemed soI 'd bust out 'n' cry there 'n th' water waitin' fer thet air boy. Soon es I hearn a flop I hed my han's on 'im. 

"'Who be you?' says he. 

"'D'ri, ' says I. 

"'Tired out, ' says he; 'can't swim a stroke. Guess I 'll hev t' got' th' bottom. '"

XV

D'ri's narrative was the talk of the garrison. Those who heard thetelling, as I did not, were fond of quoting its odd phrases, and ofdescribing how D'ri would thrust and parry with his jack-knife inthe story of the bouts. 

The mystery of that plunge into darkness and invisible water was atrial to my nerves the like of which I had never suffered. Afterthey had pulled his Lordship out of the grave, and I knew therewould be no more fighting, I began to feel the strain he had putupon me. He was not so strong as D'ri, but I had never stoodbefore a quicker man. His blade was as full of life and cunning asa cat's paw, and he tired me. When I went under water I felt sureit was all over, for I was sick and faint. I had been thinking ofD'ri in that quick descent. I wondered if he was the man who hadgot away and gone down the slide. I was not the less amazed, however, to feel his strong hand upon me as I came up. I knewnothing for a time. D'ri has told me often how he bore me up inrapid water until he came into an eddy where he could touch bottom. There, presently, I got back my senses and stood leaning on hisbroad shoulder awhile. A wind was blowing, and we could hear aboat jumping in the ripples near by. We could see nothing, it wasso dark, but D'ri left me, feeling his way slowly, and soon foundthe boat. He whistled to me, and I made my way to him. There wereoars in the bottom of the boat. D'ri helped me in, where I layback with a mighty sense of relief. Then he hauled in a rope andanchor, and shoved off. The boat, overrunning the flow in amoment, shot away rapidly. I could feel it take headway as weclove the murmuring waters. D'ri set the oars and helped it on. Ilay awhile thinking of all the blood and horror in that blacknight--like a dream of evil that leads through dim regions ofsilence into the shadow of death. I thought of the hinted peril ofthe slide that was to be the punishment of poor courage. 

D'ri had a plausible theory of the slide. He said that if we hadclung to the sides of it to break our speed we 'd have gone downlike a plummet and shattered our bones on a rocky shore. Comingfast, our bodies leaped far into the air and fell to deep water. How long I lay there thinking, as I rested, I have no satisfactorynotion. Louise and Louison came into my thoughts, and a plan ofrescue. A rush of cavalry and reeking swords, a dash for theboats, with a flying horse under each fair lady, were in thatmoving vision. But where should we find them? for I knew not thename of that country out of which we had come by ways of darknessand peril. The old query came to me, If I had to choose betweenthem, which should I take? There was as much of the old doubt inme as ever. For a verity, I loved them both, and would die foreither. I opened my eyes at last, and, rising, my hands upon thegunwales, could dimly see the great shoulders of D'ri swaying backand forth as he rowed. The coming dawn had shot an arrow into thegreat, black sphere of night, cracking it from circumference tocore, and floods of light shortly came pouring in, sweeping downbridges of darkness, gates of gloom, and massy walls of shadow. Wewere in the middle of a broad river--the St. Lawrence, we knew, albeit the shores were unfamiliar to either of us. The sunlightstuck in the ripples, and the breeze fanned them into flowing fire. The morning lighted the green hills of my native land with a mightysplendor. A new life and a great joy came to me as I filled mylungs with the sweet air. D'ri pulled into a cove, and neithercould speak for a little. He turned, looking out upon the river, and brushed a tear off his brown cheek. 

"No use talking" said he, in a low tone, as the bow hit the shore, "ain' no country luk this 'un, don' care where ye go. "

As the oars lay still, we could hear in the far timber a call offife and drum. Listening, we heard the faint familiar strains of"Yankee Doodle. " We came ashore in silence, and I hugged thenearest tree, and was not able to say the "Thank God!" that fellfrom my lips only half spoken. 

XVI

We got our bearings, a pair of boots for D'ri, and a hearty meal inthe cabin of a settler. The good man was unfamiliar with the uppershore, and we got no help in our mystery. Starting west, in thewoods, on our way to the Harbor, we stopped here and there tolisten, but heard only wood-thrush and partridge--the fife and drumof nature. That other music had gone out of hearing. We had nocompass, but D'ri knew the forest as a crow knows the air. He knewthe language of the trees and the brooks. The feel of the bark andwhat he called "the lean of the timber" told him which way wassouth. River and stream had a way of telling him whence they hadcome and where they were going, but he had no understanding of amap. I remember, after we had come to the Harbor at dusk and toldour story, the general asked him to indicate our landing-place andour journey home on a big map at headquarters. D'ri studied themap a brief while. There was a look of embarrassment on his soberface. 

"Seems so we come ashore 'bout here, " said he, dropping the middlefinger of his right hand in the vicinity of Quebec. "Then wetravelled aw-a-a-ay hellwards over 'n this 'ere direction. " Withthat illuminating remark he had slid his finger over some twohundred leagues of country from Quebec to Michigan. 

They met us with honest joy and no little surprise that evening aswe came into camp. Ten of our comrades had returned, but as forourselves, they thought us in for a long stay. We said little ofwhat we had gone through, outside the small office at headquarters, but somehow it began to travel, passing quickly from mouth tomouth, until it got to the newspapers and began to stir the tongueof each raw recruit. General Brown was there that evening, and hadfor me, as always, the warm heart of a father. He heard our reportwith a kindly sympathy. 

Next morning I rode away to see the Comte de Chaumont atLeraysville. I had my life, and a great reason to be thankful, butthere were lives dearer than my own to me, and they were yet inperil. Those dear faces haunted me and filled my sleep withtrouble. I rode fast, reaching the chateau at luncheon time. Thecount was reading in a rustic chair at the big gate. He camerunning to me, his face red with excitement. 

"M'sieur le Capitaine!" he cried, my hand in both of his, "Ithought you were dead. "

"And so I have been--dead as a cat drowned in a well, that turns upagain as lively as ever. Any news of the baroness and the youngladies?"

"A letter, " said he. "Come, get off your horse. I shall read toyou the letter. "

"Tell me--how were they taken?"

I was leading my horse, and we were walking through the deep grove. 

"Eh bien, I am not able to tell, " said he, shaking his headsoberly. "You remember that morning--well, I have twenty men therefor two days. They are armed, they surround the Hermitage, theykeep a good watch. The wasp he is very troublesome, but they seeno soldier. They stay, they burn the smudge. By and by I thinkthere is nothing to fear, and I bring them home, but I leave threemen. The baroness and the two girls and their servants they stayawhile to pack the trunk. They are coming to the chateau. It isin the evening; the coach is at the door; the servants havestarted. Suddenly--the British! I do not know how many. Theycome out of the woods like a lightning, and bang! bang! bang! theyhave killed my men. They take the baroness and the Misses deLambert, and they drive away with them. The servants they hear theshots, they return, they come, and they tell us. We follow. Wefind the coach; it is in the road, by the north trail. Dieu! theyare all gone! We travel to the river, but--" here he lifted hisshoulders and shook his head dolefully--"we could do nothing. "

"The general may let me go after them with a force of cavalry, " Isaid. "I want you to come with me and talk to him. "

"No, no, my capitaine!" said he; "it would not be wise. We mustwait. We do not know where they are. I have friends in Canada;they are doing their best, and when we hear from them--eh bien, weshall know what is necessary. "

I told him how I had met them that night in Canada, and what cameof it. 

"They are a cruel people, the English, " said he. "I am afraid tofind them will be a matter of great difficulty. "

"But the letter--"

"Ah, the letter, " he interrupted, feeling in his pocket. "Theletter is not much. It is from Tiptoes--from Louison. It wasmailed this side of the river at Morristown. You shall see; theydo not know where they are. "

He handed me the letter. I read it with an eagerness I could notconceal. It went as follows:--

"MY DEAR COUNT: If this letter reaches you, it will, I hope, relieve your anxiety. We are alive and well, but where? I am sureI have no better idea than if I were a baby just born. We camehere with our eyes covered after a long ride from the river, whichwe crossed in the night. I think it must have taken us three daysto come here. We are shut up in a big house with high walls andtrees and gardens around it--a beautiful place. We have fine bedsand everything to eat, only we miss the bouillabaisse, and thejokes of M. Pidgeon, and the fine old claret. A fat Englishwomanwho waddles around like a big goose and who calls me Mumm (as if Iwere a wine-maker!) waits upon us. We do not know the name of ourhost. He is a tall man who says little and has hair on his neckand on the back of his hands. Dieu! he is a lord who talks as ifhe were too lazy to breathe. It is 'Your Lordship this' and 'YourLordship that. ' But I must speak well of him, because he is goingto read this letter: it is on that condition I am permitted towrite. Therefore I say he is a great and good man, a beautifulman. The baroness and Louise send love to all. Madame says do notworry; we shall come out all right: but I say _worry_! and, goodman, do not cease to worry until we are safe home. Tell the curehe has something to do now. I have worn out my rosary, and amlosing faith. Tell him to try his. 

 "Your affectionate "LOUISON. "

"She is an odd girl, " said the count, as I gave back the letter, "so full of fun, so happy, so bright, so quick--always on hertiptoes. Come, you are tired; you have ridden far in the dust. Ishall make you glad to be here. "

A groom took my horse, and the count led me down a wooded slope tothe lakeside. Octagonal water-houses, painted white, lay floatingat anchor near us. He rowed me to one of them for a bath. Insidewas a rug and a table and soap and linen. A broad panel on a sideof the floor came up as I pulled a cord, showing water clear andluminous to the sandy lake-bottom. The glow of the noonday filledthe lake to its shores, and in a moment I clove the sunlitdepths--a rare delight after my long, hot ride. 

At luncheon we talked of the war, and he made much complaint of theNorthern army, as did everybody those days. 

"My boy, " said he, "you should join Perry on the second lake. Itis your only chance to fight, to win glory. "

He told me then of the impending battle and of Perry's great needof men. I had read of the sea-fighting and longed for a part init. To climb on hostile decks and fight hand to hand was a thingto my fancy. Ah, well! I was young then. At the count's tablethat day I determined to go, if I could get leave. 

Therese and a young Parisienne, her friend, were at luncheon withus. They bade us adieu and went away for a gallop as we tookcigars. We had no sooner left the dining room than I called for myhorse. Due at the Harbor that evening, I could give myself nolonger to the fine hospitality of the count. In a few moments Iwas bounding over the road, now cool in deep forest shadows. Alittle way on I overtook Therese and the Parisienne. The formercalled to me as I passed. I drew rein, coming back and stoppingbeside her. The other went on at a walk. 

"M'sieur le Capitaine, have you any news of them--of Louise andLouison?" she inquired. "You and my father were so busy talking Icould not ask you before. "

"I know this only: they are in captivity somewhere, I cannot tellwhere. "

"You look worried, M'sieur le Capitaine; you have not the happyface, the merry look, any longer. In June you were a boy, inAugust--voila! it is a man! Perhaps you are preparing for theministry. "

She assumed a solemn look, glancing up at me as if in mockery of mysober face. She was a slim, fine brunette, who, as I knew, hadlong been a confidante of Louison. 

"Alas! ma'm'selle, I am worried. I have no longer any peace. "

"Do you miss them?" she inquired, a knowing look in her handsomeeyes. "Do not think me impertinent. "

"More than I miss my mother, " I said. 

"I have a letter, " said she, smiling. "I do not know--I thought Ishould show it to you, but--but not to-day. "

"Is it from them?"

"It is from Louison--from Tiptoes. "

"And--and it speaks of me?"

"Ah, m'sieur, " said she, arching her brows, "it has indeed much tosay of you. "

"And--and may I not see it?" I asked eagerly. "Ma'm'selle, I tellyou I--I must see it. "

"Why?" She stirred the mane of her horse with a red riding-whip. 

"Why not?" I inquired, my heart beating fast. 

"If I knew--if I were justified--you know I am her friend. I knowall her secrets. "

"Will you not be my friend also?" I interrupted. 

"A friend of Louison, he is mine, " said she. 

"Ah, ma'm'selle, then I confess to you--it is because I love her. "

"I knew it; I am no fool, " was her answer. "But I had to hear itfrom you. It is a remarkable thing to do, but they are in suchperil. I think you ought to know. "

She took the letter from her bosom, passing it to my hand. A faintodor of violets came with it. It read:--

"MY DEAR THERESE: I wish I could see you, if only for an hour. Ihave so much to say. I have written your father of our prisonhome. I am going to write you of my troubles. You know what wewere talking about the last time I saw you--myself and thathandsome fellow. Mon Dieu! I shall not name him. It is notnecessary. Well, you were right, my dear. I was a fool; I laughedat your warning; I did not know the meaning of that delicious pain. But oh, my dear friend, it has become a terrible thing since I knowI may never see him again. My heart is breaking with it. Mere deDieu! I can no longer laugh or jest or pretend to be happy. Whatshall I say? That I had rather die than live without him? No;that is not enough. I had rather be an old maid and live only withthe thought of _him_ than marry another, if he were a king. Iremember those words of yours, 'I know he loves you. ' Oh, my dearTherese, what a comfort they are to me now! I repeat them often. If _I_ could only say, 'I know'! Alas! I can but say, 'I do notknow, ' nay, even, 'I do not believe. ' If I had not been a fool Ishould have made him tell me, for I had him over his ears in lovewith me one day, or I am no judge of a man. But, you know, theyare so fickle! And then the Yankee girls are pretty and so clever. Well, they shall not have him if I can help it. When I returnthere shall be war, if necessary, between France and America. And, Therese, you know I have weapons, and you have done me thehonor to say I know how to use them. I have told Louise, and--whatdo you think?--the poor thing cried an hour--for pity of me! Asever, she makes my trouble her own. I have been selfish always, but I know the cure. It is love--toujours l'amour. Now I thinkonly of him, and he recalls you and your sweet words. God make youa true prophet! With love to you and the marquis, I kiss eachline, praying for happiness for you and for him. Believe me asever, "Your affectionate "LOUISON. 

"P. S. I feel better now I have told you. I wonder what hisLordship will say. Poor thing! he will read this; he will think mea fool. Eh bien, I have no better thought of him. He can put meunder lock and key, but he shall not imprison my secrets; and, ifthey bore him, he should not read my letters. L. "

I read it thrice, and held it for a moment to my lips. Every wordstung me with the sweet pain that afflicted its author. I couldfeel my cheeks burning. 

"Ma'm'selle, pardon me; it is not I she refers to. She does notsay whom. "

"Surely, " said Therese, flirting her whip and lifting hershoulders. "M'sieur Le Capitaine is never a stupid man. You--youshould say something very nice now. "

"If it is I--thank God! Her misery is my delight, her liberationmy one purpose. "

"And my congratulations, " said she, giving me her hand. "She haswit and beauty, a true heart, a great fortune, and--good luck inhaving your love. "

I raised my hat, blushing to the roots of my hair. 

"It is a pretty compliment, " I said. "And--and I have no gift ofspeech to thank you. I am not a match for you except in my love ofkindness and--and of Louison. You have made me happier than I havebeen before. "

"If I have made you alert, ingenious, determined, I am content, "was her answer. "I know you have courage. "

"And will to use it. "

"Good luck and adieu!" said she, with a fine flourish of her whip;those people had always a pretty politeness of manner. 

"Adieu, " I said, lifting my hat as I rode off, with a prick of thespur, for the road was long and I had lost quite half an hour. 

My elation gave way to sober thought presently. I began to thinkof Louise--that quiet, frank, noble, beautiful, great-hearted girl, who might be suffering what trouble I knew not, and all silently, there in her prison home. A sadness grew in me, and then suddenlyI saw the shadow of great trouble. I loved them both; I knew notwhich I loved the better. Yet this interview had almost committedme to Louison. 

XVII

Orders came shortly from the War Department providing a detail togo and help man the guns of Perry at Put-in Bay. I had the honorof leading them on the journey and turning them over to the youngCaptain. I could not bear to be lying idle at the garrison. Athought of those in captivity was with me night and day, but Icould do nothing for them. I had had a friendly talk with GeneralBrown. He invited and received my confidence touching the tendersolicitude I was unable to cover. I laid before him the plan of anexpedition. He smiled, puffing a cigar thoughtfully. 

"Reckless folly, Bell, " said he, after a moment. "You are youngand lucky. If you were flung in the broad water there with amillstone tied to your neck, I should not be surprised to see youturn up again. My young friend, to start off with no destinationbut Canada is too much even for you. We have no men to waste. Wait; a rusting sabre is better than a hole in the heart. Therewill be good work for you in a few days, I hope. "

And there was--the job of which I have spoken, that came to methrough his kind offices. We set sail in a schooner one brightmorning, --D'ri and I and thirty others, --bound for Two-Mile Creek. Horses were waiting for us there. We mounted them, and made thelong journey overland--a ride through wood and swale on a road wornby the wagons of the emigrant, who, even then, was pushing westwardto the fertile valleys of Ohio. It was hard travelling, but thatwas the heyday of my youth, and the bird music, and the many voicesof a waning summer in field and forest, were somehow in harmonywith the great song of my heart. In the middle of the afternoon ofSeptember 6, we came to the Bay, and pulled up at headquarters, atwo-story frame building on a high shore. There were woodedislands in the offing, and between them we could see thefleet--nine vessels, big and little. 

I turned over the men, who were taken to the ships immediately andput under drill. Surgeon Usher of the _Lawrence_ and a youngmidshipman rowed me to Gibraltar Island, well out in the harbor, where the surgeon presented me to Perry--a tall, shapely man, withdark hair and eyes, and ears hidden by heavy tufts of beard. Hestood on a rocky point high above the water, a glass to his eye, looking seaward. His youth surprised me: he was then twenty-eight. I had read much of him and was looking for an older man. Hereceived me kindly: he had a fine dignity and gentle manners. Somewhere he had read of that scrape of mine--the last one thereamong the Avengers. He gave my hand a squeeze and my sword acompliment I have not yet forgotten, assuring me of his pleasurethat I was to be with him awhile. The greeting over, we rowed awayto the _Lawrence_. She was chopping lazily at anchor in a lightbreeze, her sails loose. Her crew cheered their commander as wecame under the frowning guns. 

"They 're tired of waiting, " said he; "they 're looking forbusiness when I come aboard. "

He showed me over the clean decks: it was all as clean as a Puritanparlor. 

"Captain, " said he, "tie yourself to that big bow gun. It's themodern sling of David, only its pebble is big as a rock. Learn howto handle it, and you may take a fling at the British some day. "

He put D'ri in my squad, as I requested, leaving me with thegunners. I went to work at once, and knew shortly how to handlethe big machine. D'ri and I convinced the captain with nodifficulty that we were fit for a fight so soon as it might come. 

It came sooner than we expected. The cry of "Sail ho!" woke meearly one morning. It was the 10th of September. The enemy wascoming. Sails were sticking out of the misty dawn a few milesaway. In a moment our decks were black and noisy with the hundredand two that manned the vessel. It was every hand to rope andwindlass then. Sails went up with a snap all around us, and thecreak of blocks sounded far and near. In twelve minutes we wereunder way, leading the van to battle. The sun came up, lightingthe great towers of canvas. Every vessel was now feeling for thewind, some with oars and sweeps to aid them. A light breeze cameout of the southwest. Perry stood near me, his hat in his hand. He was looking back at the Niagara. 

"Run to the leeward of the islands, " said he to the sailing-master. 

"Then you 'll have to fight to the leeward, " said the latter. 

"Don't care, so long as we fight, " said Perry. "Windward orleeward, we want to fight. "

Then came the signal to change our course. The wind shifting tothe southeast, we were all able to clear the islands and keep theweather-gage. A cloud came over the sun; far away the mistthickened. The enemy wallowed to the topsails, and went out ofsight. We had lost the wind. Our sails went limp; flag andpennant hung lifeless. A light rain drizzled down, breaking thesmooth plane of water into crowding rings and bubbles. Perry stoodout in the drizzle as we lay waiting. All eyes were turning to thesky and to Perry. He had a look of worry and disgust. He was outfor a quarrel, though the surgeon said he was in more need ofphysic, having the fever of malaria as well as that of war. Hestood there, tall and handsome, in a loose jacket of blue nankeen, with no sign of weakness in him, his eyes flashing as he looked upat the sky. 

D'ri and I stood in the squad at the bow gun. D'ri was wearing anold straw hat; his flannel shirt was open at the collar. 

"Ship stan's luk an ol' cow chawin' 'er cud, " said he, looking offat the weather. "They's a win' comin' over there. It 'll give 'era slap 'n th' side purty soon, mebbe. Then she 'll switch 'er tail'n' go on 'bout 'er business. "

In a moment we heard a roaring cheer back amidships. Perry hadcome up the companionway with his blue battle-flag. He held itbefore him at arm's-length. I could see a part of its legend, inwhite letters, "Don't give up the ship. "

"My brave lads, " he shouted, "shall we hoist it?"

Our "Ay, ay, sir!" could have been heard a mile away, and the flagrose, above tossing hats and howling voices, to the mainroyalmasthead. 

The wind came; we could hear the sails snap and stiffen as itoverhauled the fleet behind us. In a jiffy it bunted our own hulland canvas, and again we began to plough the water. It grew into asmart breeze, and scattered the fleet of clouds that hovered overus. The rain passed; sunlight sparkled on the rippling plane ofwater. We could now see the enemy; he had hove to, and was waitingfor us in a line. A crowd was gathering on the high shores we hadleft to see the battle. We were well in advance, crowding ourcanvas in a good breeze. I could hear only the roaring furrows ofwater on each side of the prow. Every man of us held his tongue, mentally trimming ship, as they say, for whatever might come. Three men scuffed by, sanding the decks. D'ri was leaning placidlyover the big gun. He looked off at the white line, squintedknowingly, and spat over the bulwarks. Then he straightened up, tilting his hat to his right ear. 

"They 're p'intin' their guns, " said a swabber. 

"Fust they know they'll git spit on, " said D'ri, calmly. 

Well, for two hours it was all creeping and talking under thebreath, and here and there an oath as some nervous chap tightenedthe ropes of his resolution. Then suddenly, as we swung about, amurmur went up and down the deck. We could see with our naked eyesthe men who were to give us battle. Perry shouted sternly to somegunners who thought it high time to fire. Then word came: therewould be no firing until we got close. Little gusts of music camechasing over the water faint-footed to our decks--a band playing"Rule Britannia. " I was looking at a brig in the line of the enemywhen a bolt of fire leaped out of her and thick belches of smokerushed to her topsails. Then something hit the sea near by a greathissing slap, and we turned quickly to see chunks of the shatteredlake surface fly up in nets of spray and fall roaring on our deck. We were all drenched there at the bow gun. I remember some ofthose water-drops had the sting of hard-flung pebbles, but we onlybent our heads, waiting eagerly for the word to fire. 

"We was th' ones 'at got spit on, " said a gunner, looking at D'ri. 

"Wish they'd let us holler back, " said the latter, placidly. "Sicko' holdin' in. "

We kept fanning down upon the enemy, now little more than a mileaway, signalling the fleet to follow. 

"My God! see there!" a gunner shouted. 

The British line had turned into a reeling, whirling ridge of smokelifting over spurts of flame at the bottom. We knew what wascoming. Untried in the perils of shot and shell, some of mygunners stooped to cover under the bulwarks. 

"Pull 'em out o' there, " I called, turning to D'ri, who stoodbeside me. 

The storm of iron hit us. A heavy ball crashed into the afterbulwarks, tearing them away and slamming over gun and carriage, that slid a space, grinding the gunners under it. One end of abowline whipped over us; a jib dropped; a brace fell crawling overmy shoulders like a big snake; the foremast went into splinters afew feet above the deck, its top falling over, its canvas saggingin great folds. It was all the work of a second. That hastyflight of iron, coming out of the air, thick as a flock of pigeons, had gone through hull and rigging in a wink of the eye. And a finemess it had made. 

Men lay scattered along the deck, bleeding, yelling, struggling. There were two lying near us with blood spurting out of theirnecks. One rose upon a knee, choking horribly, shaken with thelast throes of his flooded heart, and reeled over. The _Scorpion_of our fleet had got her guns in action; the little _Ariel_ wasalso firing. D'ri leaned over, shouting in my ear. 

"Don't like th' way they 're whalin' uv us, " he said, his cheeksred with anger. 

"Nor I, " was my answer. 

"Don't like t' stan' here an' dew nuthin' but git licked, " he wenton. "'T ain' no way nat'ral. "

Perry came hurrying forward. 

"Fire!" he commanded, with a quick gesture, and we began to warm upour big twenty-pounder there in the bow. But the deadly scuds ofiron kept flying over and upon our deck, bursting into awfulshowers of bolt and chain and spike and hammerheads. We sawshortly that our brig was badly out of gear. She began to drift toleeward, and being unable to aim at the enemy, we could make no useof the bow gun. Every brace and bowline cut away, her canvas tornto rags, her hull shot through, and half her men dead or wounded, she was, indeed, a sorry sight. The _Niagara_ went by on the safeside of us, heedless of our plight. Perry stood near, cursing ashe looked off at her. Two of my gunners had been hurt by burstingcanister. D'ri and I picked them up, and made for the cockpit. D'ri's man kept howling and kicking. As we hurried over the bloodydeck, there came a mighty crash beside us and a burst of old ironthat tumbled me to my knees. 

A cloud of smoke covered us. I felt the man I bore struggle andthen go limp in my arms; I felt my knees getting warm and wet. Thesmoke rose; the tall, herculean back of D'ri was just ahead of me. His sleeve had been ripped away from shoulder to elbow, and a sprayof blood from his upper arm was flying back upon me. His hat crownhad been torn off, and there was a big rent in his trousers, but hekept going, I saw my man had been killed in my arms by a piece ofchain, buried to its last link in his breast. I was so confused bythe shock of it all that I had not the sense to lay him down, butfollowed D'ri to the cockpit. He stumbled on the stairs, fallingheavily with his burden. Then I dropped my poor gunner and helpedthem carry D'ri to a table, where they bade me lie down beside him. 

"It is no time for jesting, " said I, with some dignity. 

"My dear fellow, " the surgeon answered, "your wound is no jest. You are not fit for duty. "

I looked down at the big hole in my trousers and the cut in mythigh, of which I had known nothing until then. I had no soonerseen it and the blood than I saw that I also was in some need ofrepair, and lay down with a quick sense of faintness. My wound wasno pretty thing to see, but was of little consequence, a missilehaving torn the surface only. I was able to help Surgeon Usher ashe caught the severed veins and bathed the bloody strands of musclein D'ri's arm, while another dressed my thigh. That room was fullof the wounded, some lying on the floor, some standing, somestretched upon cots and tables. Every moment they were crowdingdown the companionway with others. The cannonading was now soclose and heavy that it gave me an ache in the ears, but above itsquaking thunder I could hear the shrill cries of men sinking tohasty death in the grip of pain. The brig was in sore distress, her timbers creaking, snapping, quivering, like one being beaten todeath, his bones cracking, his muscles pulping under heavy blows. We were above water-line there in the cockpit; we could feel herflinch and stagger. On her side there came suddenly a crushingblow, as if some great hammer, swung far in the sky, had come downupon her. I could hear the split and break of heavy timbers; Icould see splinters flying over me in a rush of smoke, and the legsof a man go bumping on the beams above. Then came another crash oftimbers on the port side. I leaped off the table and ran, limping, to the deck, I do not know why; I was driven by some quick andirresistible impulse. I was near out of my head, anyway, with therage of battle in me and no chance to fight. Well, suddenly, Ifound myself stumbling, with drawn sabre, over heaps of the hurtand dead there on our reeking deck. It was a horrible place:everything tipped over, man and gun and mast and bulwark. The airwas full of smoke, but near me I could see a topsail of the enemy. Balls were now plunging in the water alongside, the spray drenchingour deck. Some poor man lying low among the dead caught me by theboot-leg with an appealing gesture. I took hold of his collar, dragging him to the cockpit. The surgeon had just finished withD'ri. His arm was now in sling and bandages. He was lying on hisback, the good arm over his face. There was a lull in thecannonading. I went quickly to his side. 

"How are you feeling?" I asked, giving his hand a good grip. 

"Nuthin' t' brag uv, " he answered. "Never see nobody git hell rosewith 'em s' quick es we did--never. "

Just then we heard the voice of Perry. He stood on the stairscalling into the cockpit. 

"Can any wounded man below there pull a rope?" he shouted. 

D'ri was on his feet in a jiffy, and we were both clambering to thedeck as another scud of junk went over us. Perry was trying, withblock and tackle, to mount a carronade. A handful of men werehelping him, D'ri rushed to the ropes, I following, and we bothpulled with a will. A sailor who had been hit in the legs hobbledup, asking for room on the rope. I told him he could be of no use, but he spat an oath, and pointing at my leg, which was nowbleeding, swore he was sounder than I, and put up his fists toprove it. I have seen no better show of pluck in all my fighting, nor any that ever gave me a greater pride of my own people and mycountry. War is a great evil, I begin to think, but there isnothing finer than the sight of a man who, forgetting himself, rushes into the shadow of death for the sake of something that isbetter. At every heave on the rope our blood came out of us, untila ball shattered a pulley, and the gun fell. Perry had then afierce look, but his words were cool, his manner dauntless. Hepeered through lifting clouds of smoke at our line. He stood nearme, and his head was bare. He crossed the littered deck, hisbattle-flag and broad pennant that an orderly had brought himtrailing from his shoulder. He halted by a boat swung at thedavits on the port side--the only one that had not gone tosplinters. There he called a crew about him, and all got quicklyaboard the boat--seven besides the younger brother of Captain Perry--and lowered it. Word flew that he was leaving to take command ofthe sister brig, the _Niagara_, which lay off a quarter of a mileor so from where we stood. We all wished to go, but he would haveonly sound men; there were not a dozen on the ship who had alltheir blood in them. As they pulled away, Perry standing in thestern, D'ri lifted a bloody, tattered flag, and leaning from thebulwarks, shook it over them, cheering loudly. 

"Give 'em hell!" he shouted. "We 'll tek care o' the ol' brig. "

[Illustration: "D'ri, shaking a bloody, tattered flag, shouted, 'We'll tek care o' the ol' brig. '"]

We were all crying, we poor devils that were left behind. One, amere boy, stood near me swinging his hat above his head, cheering. Hat and hand fell to the deck as I turned to him. He was reeling, when D'ri caught him quickly with his good arm and bore him to thecockpit. 

The little boat was barely a length off when heavy shot fellsplashing in her wake. Soon they were dropping all around her. One crossed her bow, ripping a long furrow in the sea. A chip flewoff her stern; a lift of splinters from an oar scattered behindher. Plunging missiles marked her course with a plait of foam, butshe rode on bravely. We saw her groping under the smoke clouds; wesaw her nearing the other brig, and were all on tiptoe. The aircleared a little, and we could see them ship oars and go up theside. Then we set our blood dripping with cheers again, we whowere wounded there on the deck of the _Lawrence_. LieutenantYarnell ordered her one flag down. As it sank fluttering, wegroaned. Our dismay went quickly from man to man. Presently wecould hear the cries of the wounded there below. A man camestaggering out of the cockpit, and fell to his hands and knees, creeping toward us and protesting fiercely, the blood dripping fromhis mouth between curses. 

"Another shot would sink her, " Yarnell shouted. 

"Let 'er sink, d--n 'er, " said D'ri. "Wish t' God I c'u'd put myfoot through 'er bottom. When the flag goes down I wan't' go tew. "

The British turned their guns; we were no longer in the smoky pathsof thundering canister. The _Niagara_ was now under fire. Wecould see the dogs of war rushing at her in leashes of flame andsmoke. Our little gun-boats, urged by oar and sweep, werehastening to the battle front. We could see their men, waist-highabove bulwarks, firing as they came. The _Detroit_ and the _QueenCharlotte_, two heavy brigs of the British line, had run afoul ofeach other. The _Niagara_, signalling for close action, bore downupon them. Crossing the bow of one ship and the stern of theother, she raked them with broadsides. We saw braces fly and mastsfall in the volley. The _Niagara_ sheered off, pouring shoals ofmetal on a British schooner, stripping her bare. Our little boatshad come up, and were boring into the brigs. In a brief time--itwas then near three o'clock--a white flag, at the end of aboarding-pike, fluttered over a British deck. D'ri, who had beensitting awhile, was now up and cheering as he waved his crownlesshat. He had lent his flag, and, in the flurry, some one dropped itoverboard. D'ri saw it fall, and before we could stop him he hadleaped into the sea. I hastened to his help, tossing a rope's endas he came up, swimming with one arm, the flag in his teeth. Itowed him to the landing-stair and helped him over. Leaning on myshoulder, he shook out the tattered flag, its white laced with hisown blood. 

"Ready t' jump in hell fer thet ol' rag any day, " said he, as weall cheered him. 

Each grabbed a tatter of the good flag, pressing hard upon D'ri, and put it to his lips and kissed it proudly. Then we marched upand down, D'ri waving it above us--a bloody squad as ever walked, shouting loudly. D'ri had begun to weaken with loss of blood, so Icoaxed him to go below with me. 

The battle was over; a Yankee band was playing near by. 

"Perry is coming! Perry is coming!" we heard them shouting above. 

A feeble cry that had in it pride and joy and inextinguishabledevotion passed many a fevered lip in the cockpit. 

There were those near who had won a better peace, and they lay as aman that listens to what were now the merest vanity. 

Perry came, when the sun was low, with a number of Britishofficers, and received their surrender on his own bloody deck. Iremember, as they stood by the ruined bulwarks and looked down upontokens of wreck and slaughter, a dog began howling dismally in thecockpit. 

XVIII

It was a lucky and a stubborn sea-fight. More blood to the numberI never saw than fell on the _Lawrence_, eighty-three of ourhundred and two men having been killed or laid up for repair. Onehas to search a bit for record of a more wicked fire. But wedeserve not all the glory some histories have bestowed, for we hada larger fleet and better, if fewer, guns. It was, however, athing to be proud of, that victory of the young captain. Our men, of whom many were raw recruits, --farmers and woodsmen, --stood totheir work with splendid valor, and, for us in the North, it camenear being decisive. D'ri and I were so put out of business thatno part of the glory was ours, albeit we were praised in orders forvalor under fire. But for both I say we had never less pride ofourselves in any affair we had had to do with. Well, as I havesaid before, we were ever at our best with a sabre, and big gunswere out of our line. 

We went into hospital awhile, D'ri having caught cold and gone outof his head with fever. We had need of a spell on our backs, forwhat with all our steeplechasing over yawning graves--that is theway I always think of it--we were somewhat out of breath. No newshad reached me of the count or the young ladies, and I took someworry to bed with me, but was up in a week and ready for moretrouble, I had to sit with D'ri awhile before he could mount ahorse. 

September was nearing its last day when we got off a brig at theHarbor. We were no sooner at the dock than some one began to tellus of a new plan for the invasion of Canada. I knew Brown had hadno part in it, for he said in my hearing once that it was too big achunk to bite off. 

There were letters from the count and Therese, his daughter. Theyhad news for me, and would I not ride over as soon as I hadreturned? My mother--dearest and best of mothers--had written me, and her tenderness cut me like a sword for the way I had neglectedher. Well, it is ever so with a young man whose heart has found anew queen. I took the missive with wet eyes to our goodfarmer-general of the North. He read it, and spoke with feeling ofhis own mother gone to her long rest. 

"Bell, " said he, "you are worn out. After mess in the morningmount your horses, you and the corporal, and go and visit them. Report here for duty on October 16. "

Then, as ever after a kindness, he renewed his quid of tobacco, turning quickly to the littered desk at headquarters. 

We mounted our own horses a fine, frosty morning. The white earthglimmered in the first touch of sunlight. All the fairy lanternsof the frost king, hanging in the stubble and the dead grass, glowed a brief time, flickered faintly, and went out. Then thebrown sward lay bare, save in the shadows of rock or hill or forestthat were still white. A great glory had fallen over thefar-reaching woods. Looking down a long valley, we could seetowers of evergreen, terraces of red and brown, goldensteeple-tops, gilded domes minareted with lavender and purple anddraped with scarlet banners. It seemed as if the trees wereshriving after all the green riot of summer, and making ready forsackcloth and ashes. Some stood trembling, and as if drenched intheir own blood. Now and then a head was bare and bent, and nakedarms were lifted high, as if to implore mercy. 

"Fine air, " said I, breathing deep as we rode on slowly. 

"'T is sart'n, " said D'ri. "Mother used t' say 'at the frost wusonly the breath o' angels, an' when it melted it gin us a leetle o'the air o' heaven. "

Of earth or heaven, it quickened us all with a new life. Thehorses fretted for their heads, and went off at a gallop, needingno cluck or spur. We pulled up at the chateau well before theluncheon hour. D'ri took the horses, and I was shown to thelibrary, where the count came shortly, to give me hearty welcome. 

"And what of the captives?" I inquired, our greeting over. 

"Alas! it is terrible; they have not returned, " said he, "and I amin great trouble, for I have not written to France of their peril. Dieu! I hoped they would be soon released. They are well and nowwe have good news. Eh bien, we hope to see them soon. But of thatTherese shall tell you. And you have had a terrible time on LakeErie?"

He had read of the battle, but wanted my view of it. I told thestory of the _Lawrence_ and Perry; of what D'ri and I had hoped todo, and of what had been done to us. My account of D'ri--his drollcomment, his valor, his misfortune--touched and tickled the count. He laughed, he clapped his hands, he shed tears of enthusiasm; thenhe rang a bell, "The M'sieur D'ri--bring him here, " said he to a servant. 

D'ri came soon with a worried look, his trousers caught on hisboot-tops, an old felt hat in his hand. Somehow he and his hatwere as king and coronal in their mutual fitness; if he lost one, he swapped for another of about the same shade and shape. Hisbrows were lifted, his eyes wide with watchful timidity. Thecount had opened a leather case and taken out of it a shiny disk ofsilver. He stepped to D'ri, and fastened it upon his waistcoat. 

"'Pour la valeur eprouvee--de l'Empereur, '" said he, reading theinscription as he clapped him on the shoulder. "It was given to asoldier for bravery at Austerlitz by the great Napoleon, " said he. "And, God rest him! the soldier he died of his wounds. And to mehe have left the medal in trust for some man, the most brave, intrepid, honorable. M'sieur D'ri, I have the pleasure to put itwhere it belong. "

D'ri shifted his weight, looking down at the medal and blushinglike a boy. 

"Much obleeged, " he said presently. "Dunno but mebbe I better putit 'n my wallet. 'Fraid I 'll lose it off o' there. "

He threw at me a glance of inquiry. 

"No, " said I, "do not bury your honors in a wallet. "

He bowed stiffly, and, as he looked down at the medal, went away, spurs clattering. 

Therese came in presently, her face full of vivacity and color. 

"M'sieur le Capitaine, " said she, "we are going for a little ride, the marquis and I. Will you come with us? You shall have the besthorse in the stable. "

"And you my best thanks for the honor, " I said. 

Our horses came up presently, and we all made off at a quickgallop. The forest avenues were now aglow and filled with hazysunlight as with a flood, through which yellow leaves were slowlysinking. Our horses went to their fetlocks in a golden drift. Themarquis rode on at a rapid pace, but soon Therese pulled rein, Ikeeping abreast of her. 

In a moment our horses were walking quietly. 

"You have news for me, ma'm'selle?" I remarked. 

"Indeed, I have much news, " said she, as always, in French. "I wasafraid you were not coming in time, m'sieur. "

She took a dainty letter from her bosom, passing it to me. 

My old passion flashed up as I took the perfumed sheets. I felt myheart quicken, my face burn with it. I was to have good news atlast of those I loved better than my life, those I had notforgotten a moment in all the peril of war. 

I saw the handwriting of Louison and then a vision of her--thelarge eyes, the supple, splendid figure, the queenly bearing. Itread;--

"MY DEAR THERESE: At last they promise to return us to you on the12th of October. You are to send two men for us--not more--to thehead of Eagle Island, off Ste. Roche, in the St. Lawrence, withcanoes, at ten o'clock in the evening of that day. They will finda lantern hanging on a tree at the place we are to meet them. Wemay be delayed a little, but they are to wait for us there. And, as you love me, see that one is my brave captain--I do not careabout the other who comes. First of all I wish to see my emperor, my love, the tall, handsome, and gallant youngster who has won me. What a finish for this odd romance if he only comes! And then I dowish to see you, the count, and the others. I read your note withsuch a pleasure! You are sure that he loves me? And that he doesnot know that I love him? I do not wish him to know, to suspect, until he has asked me to be his queen--until he has a right toknow. Once he has my secret. Love is robbed of his best treasure. Mon Dieu! I wish to tell him myself, sometime, if he ever has thecourage to take command of me. I warn you, Therese, if I think heknows--when I see him--I shall be cruel to him; I shall make himhate me. So you see I will not be cheated of my wooing, and I knowyou would not endanger my life's happiness. I have written alittle song--for him. Well, some day I shall sing it to him, andwill he not be glad to know I could do it? Here are the firstlines to give you the idea:--

 My emperor! my emperor! Thy face is fair to see; Thy house is old, thy heart is gold, Oh, take command of me!

 O emperor! my emperor! Thy sceptre is of God; Through all my days I'll sing thy praise, And tremble at thy nod. 

But, dear Therese, you ought to hear the music; I have quitesurprised myself. Indeed, love is a grand thing; it has made menobler and stronger. They really say I am not selfish any more. But I am weary of waiting here, and so eager to get home. You arein love, and you have been through this counting of the hours. Weare very comfortable here, and they let us go and come as we likeinside the high walls. I have told you there is a big, big groveand garden. 

"We saw nothing of 'his Lordship' for weeks until three days ago, when they brought him here wounded. That is the reason we couldnot send you a letter before now. You know he has to see them alland arrange for their delivery. Well, he sent for Louise that dayhe came. She went to him badly frightened, poor thing! as, indeed, we all were. He lay in bed helpless, and wept when he saw her. She came back crying, and would not tell what he had said. I dothink he loves her very dearly, and somehow we are all beginning tothink better of him. Surely no one could be more courteous andgallant. Louise went to help nurse him yesterday, dear, sweetlittle mother! Then he told her the good news of our comingrelease, where your men would meet us, and all as I have written. He is up in his chair to-day, the maid tells me. I joked Louiseabout him this morning, and she began to cry at once, and said herheart was not hers to give. The sly thing! I wonder whom sheloves; but she would say no more, and has had a long face all day. She is so stubborn! I have sworn I will never tell her another ofmy secrets. You are to answer quickly, sending your note bycourier to the Indian dockman at Elizabethport, addressed RobinAdair, Box 40, St. Hiliere, Canada. And the love of all to all. Adieu. 

 "Your loving "LOUISON. 

"P. S. Can you tell me, is the captain of noble birth? I havenever had any doubt of it, he is so splendid. "

It filled me with a great happiness and a bitter pang. I was neverin such a conflict of emotion. 

"Well, " said Therese, "do you see my trouble? Having shown you thefirst letter, I had also to show you the second. I fear I havedone wrong. My soul--"

"Be blessed for the good tidings, " I interrupted. 

"Thanks. I was going to say it accuses me. Louison is a proudgirl; she must never know. She can never know unless--"

"You tell her, " said I, quickly. "And of course you will. "

"What do you mean?" she asked. 

"That every secret that must not be told is the same as publishedif--if--"

"If _what_?"

"If--if it tells a pretty story with some love in it, " I said, witha quick sense of caution. "Ah, ma'm'selle, do I not know what hasmade your lips so red?"

"What may it be?"

"The attrition of many secrets--burning secrets, " I said, laughing. 

"Mordieu! what charming impudence!" said she, her large eyesglowing thoughtfully, with some look of surprise. "You do not knowme, m'sieur. I have kept many secrets and know the trick. "

"Ah, then I shall ask of you a great favor, " said I--"that you keepmy secret also, that you do not tell her of my love. "

She wheeled her horse with a merry peal of laughter, hiding herface, now red as her glove. 

"It is too late, " said she, "I have written her. "

We rode on, laughing. In spite of the serious character of herwords, I fell a-quaking from crown to stirrup. I was now engagedto Louison, or as good as that, and, being a man of honor, I mustthink no more of her sister. 

"I wrote her of your confession, " said she, "for I knew it wouldmake her so happy; but, you know, I did not tell of--of thecircumstances. "

"Well, it will make it all the easier for me, " I said. "Ma'm'selle, I assure you--I am not sorry. "

"And, my friend, you are lucky: she is so magnificent. "

"Her face will be a study when I tell her. "

"The splendor of it!" said she. 

"And the surprise, " I added, laughing. 

"Ah, m'sieur, she will play her part well. She is clever. Thatmoment when the true love comes and claims her it is the sweetestin a woman's life. "

A thought came flying through my brain with the sting of an arrow. 

"She must not be deceived. I have not any noble blood in me. I amonly the son of a soldier-farmer, and have my fortune to make, "said I, quickly. 

"That is only a little folly, " she answered, laughing. "Whetheryou be rich or poor, prince or peasant, she cares not a snap of herfinger. Ciel! is she not a republican, has she not money enough?"

"Nevertheless, I beg you to say, in your letter, that I havenothing but my sword and my honor. "

As we rode along I noted in my book the place and time we were tomeet the captives. The marquis joined us at the Hermitage, where astable-boy watered our horses. Three servants were still there, the others being now in the count's service. 

If any place give me a day's happiness it is dear to me, and thewhere I find love is forever sacred. I like to stand where I stoodthinking of it, and there I see that those dear moments are as mucha part of me as of history. So while Therese and the marquis gotoff their horses for a little parley with the gardener, I canteredup the north trail to where I sat awhile that delightful summer daywith Louise. The grotto had now a lattice roofing of barebranches. Leaves, as red as her blush, as golden as my memories, came rattling through it, falling with a faint rustle. The bigwoods were as a gloomy and deserted mansion, with the lonely cry ofthe wind above and a ghostly rustle within where had been love andsong and laughter and all delight. 

XIX

D'ri and I left the chateau that afternoon, putting up in the redtavern at Morristown about dusk. 

My companion rode away proudly, the medal dangling at his waistcoatlapel. 

"Jerushy Jane!" said he, presently, as he pulled rein. "Ain'ta-goin' t' hev thet floppin' there so--meks me feel luk a bird. Don't seem nohow nat'ral. Wha' d' ye s'pose he gin me thet airthing fer?"

He was putting it away carefully in his wallet. 

"As a token of respect for your bravery, " said I. 

His laughter roared in the still woods, making my horse lift andsnort a little. It was never an easy job to break any horse toD'ri's laughter. 

"It's _reedic'lous_, " said he, thoughtfully, in a moment. 

"Why?"

"'Cause fer the reason why they don't no man deserve nuthin' ferdoin' what he 'd orter, " he answered, with a serious and determinedlook. 

"You did well, " said I, "and deserve anything you can get. "

"Done my damdest!" said he. "But I did n't do nuthin' but gitlicked. Got shot an' tore an' slammed all over thet air deck, an'could n't do no harm t' nobody. Jes luk a boss tied 'n the stall, an' a lot o' men whalin' 'im, an' a lot more tryin' t' scare 'im t'death. "

"Wha' d' ye s'pose thet air thing's made uv?" he inquired after alittle silence. 

"Silver, " said I. 

"Pure silver?"

"Undoubtedly, " was my answer. 

"Judas Priest!" said he, taking out his wallet again, to look atthe trophy. "Thet air mus' be wuth suthin'. "

"More than a year's salary, " said I. 

He looked up at me with a sharp whistle of surprise. 

"Ain' no great hand fer sech flummydiddles, " said he, as he put themedal away. 

"It's a badge of honor, " said I. "It shows you 're a brave man. "

"Got 'nough on 'em, " said D'ri. "This 'ere rip 'n the forehead's'bout all the badge I need. "

"It's from the emperor--the great Napoleon, " I said. "It's a markof his pleasure. "

"Wall, by Judas Priest!" said D'ri, "I would n't jump over a stumpover a stun wall t' please no emp'ror, an' I would n't cut off myleetle finger fer a hull bushel basket o' them air. I hain'ta-fightin' fer no honor. "

"What then?" said I. 

His face turned very sober. He pursed his lips, and spat acrossthe ditch; then he gave his mouth a wipe, and glanced thoughtfullyat the sky. 

"Fer liberty, " said he, with decision. "Same thing my father diedfer. "

Not to this day have I forgotten it, the answer of old D'ri, or thelook of him as he spoke. I was only a reckless youth fighting forthe love of peril and adventure, and with too little thought of thehigh purposes of my country. The causes of the war were familiarto me; that proclamation of Mr. Madison had been discussed freelyin our home, and I had felt some share in the indignation of D'riand my father. This feeling had not been allayed by the bloodyscenes in which I had had a part. Now I began to feel the greatpassion of the people, and was put to shame for a moment. 

"Liberty--that is a grand thing to fight for, " said I, after abrief pause. 

"Swap my blood any time fer thet air, " said D'ri. "I can fightsassy, but not fer no king but God A'mighty. Don't pay t' git alltore up less it's fer suthin' purty middlin' vallyble. My lifeain't wuth much, but, ye see, I hain't nuthin' else. "

We rode awhile in sober thought, hearing only a sough of the windabove and the rustling hoof-beat of our horses in the rich harvestof the autumn woods. We were walking slowly over a stretch of baremoss when, at a sharp turn, we came suddenly in sight of a hugebear that sat facing us. I drew my pistol as we pulled rein, firing quickly. The bear ran away into the brush as I firedanother shot. 

"He 's hit, " said D'ri, leaping off and bidding me hold the bit. Then, with a long stride, he ran after the fleeing bear. I hadbeen waiting near half an hour when D'ri came back slowly, with adownhearted look. 

"'Tain' no use, " said he. "Can't never git thet bear. He's got aflesh-wound high up in his hin' quarters, an' he's travellin' fast. "

He took a fresh chew of tobacco and mounted his horse. 

"Terrible pity!" he exclaimed, shaking his head with some trace oflingering sorrow. "Ray, " said he, soberly, after a little silence, "when ye see a bear lookin' your way, ef ye want 'im, alwus shuteat the end thet's _toward_ ye. "

There was no better bear-hunter in the north woods than D'ri, andto lose a bear was, for him, no light affliction. 

"Can't never break a bear's neck by shutin' 'im in the hin'quarters, " he remarked. 

I made no answer. 

"Might jest es well spit 'n 'is face, " he added presently; "jesteggzac'ly. "

This apt and forceful advice calmed a lingering sense of duty, andhe rode on awhile in silence. The woods were glooming in theearly dusk when he spoke again. Something revived his contempt ofmy education. He had been trailing after me, and suddenly I felthis knee. 

"Tell ye this, Ray, " said he, in a kindly tone. "Ef ye wan' t' gita bear, got t' mux 'im up a leetle for'ard--right up 'n theneighborhood uv 'is fo'c's'le. Don't dew no good t' shute 'ishams. Might es well try t' choke 'im t' death by pinchin' 'istail. "

We were out in the open. Roofs and smoking chimneys weresilhouetted on the sky, and, halfway up a hill, we could see thecandle-lights of the red tavern. There, in the bar, before blazinglogs in a great fireplace, for the evening had come chilly, a tablewas laid for us, and we sat down with hearty happiness to tankardsof old ale and a smoking haunch. I have never drunk or eaten witha better relish. There were half a dozen or so sitting about thebar, and all ears were for news of the army and all hands for ourhelp. If we asked for more potatoes or ale, half of them rose toproclaim it. Between pipes of Virginia tobacco, and old sledge, and songs of love and daring, we had a memorable night. When wewent to our room, near twelve o'clock, I told D'ri of our dearfriends, who, all day, had been much in my thought. 

"Wus the letter writ by her?" he inquired. 

"Not a doubt of it. "

"Then it's all right, " said he. "A likely pair o' gals themair--no mistake. "

"But I think they made me miss the bear, " I answered. 

"Ray, " said D'ri, soberly, "when yer shutin' a bear, ef ye want'im, don't never think o' nuthin' but the bear. " Then, after amoment's pause, he added: "Won't never hev no luck killin' a bearef ye don' quit dwellin' so on them air gals. "

I thanked him, with a smile, and asked if he knew Eagle Island. 

"Be'n all over it half a dozen times, " said he. "'T ain' no more'n twenty rod from the Yankee shore, thet air island ain't. Wec'u'd paddle there in a day from our cove. "

And that was the way we planned to go, --by canoe from ourlanding, --and wait for the hour at Paleyville, a Yankee villageopposite the island. We would hire a team there, and convey theparty by wagon to Leraysville. 

We were off at daybreak, and going over the hills at a livelygallop. Crossing to Caraway Pike, in the Cedar Meadows, an hourlater, we stampeded a lot of moose. One of them, a great bull, ranahead of us, roaring with fright, his antlers rattling upon bushand bough, his black bell hanging to the fern-tops. 

"Don' never wan't' hev no argyment with one o' them air chaps 'lessye know purty nigh how 't's comin' out, " said D'ri. "Alwus want agun es well es a purty middlin' ca-a-areful aim on your side. Thenye 're apt t' need a tree, tew, 'fore ye git through with it. "After a moment's pause he added: "Got t' be a joemightyful stouttree, er he 'll shake ye out uv it luk a ripe apple. "

"They always have the negative side of the question, " I said. "Don't believe they 'd ever chase a man if he 'd let 'em alone. "

"Yis, siree, they would, " was D'ri's answer. "I 've hed 'em comeright efter me 'fore ever I c'u'd lift a gun. Ye see, they're jestes cur'us 'bout a man es a man is 'bout them. Ef they can't smell'im, they 're terrible cur'us. Jes' wan' t' see what 's inside uv'im an' what kind uv a smellin' critter he is. Dunno es they wan't' dew 'im any pertic'lar harm. Jes' wan' t' mux 'im over aleetle; but they dew it _awful careless_, an' he ain't never fit t'be seen no more. "

He snickered faintly as he spoke. 

"An' they don't nobody see much uv 'im efter thet, nuther, " headded, with a smile. 

"I 'member once a big bull tried t' find out the kind o' works Ihed in me. 'T wa'n' no moose--jest a common ord'narythree-year-ol' bull. "

"Hurt you?" I queried. 

"No; 't hurt 'im. " said he, soberly. "Sp'ilt 'im, es ye might say. Could n't never bear the sight uv a man efter thet. Seem so he didn't think he wus fit t' be seen. Nobody c'u'd ever git 'n a mildo' th' poor cuss. Hed t' be shot. "

"What happened?"

"Hed a stout club 'n my hand, " said he. "Got holt uv 'is tail, an'begun a-whalin' uv 'im. Run 'im down a steep hill, an' passin' atree, I tuk one side an' he t' other. We parted there fer the las'time. "

He looked off at the sky a moment. 

Then came his inevitable addendum, which was: "I hed a dam sightmore tail 'an he did, thet 's sartin. "

About ten o'clock we came in sight of our old home. Then wehurried our horses, and came up to the door with a rush. Astranger met us there. 

"Are you Captain Bell?" said he, as I got off my horse. 

I nodded. 

"I am one of your father's tenants, " he went on. "Ride over theridge yonder about half a mile, and you will see his house. " Ilooked at D'ri and he at me. He had grown pale suddenly, and Ifelt my own surprise turning into alarm. 

"Are they well?" I queried. 

"Very well, and looking for you, " said he, smiling. 

We were up in our saddles, dashing out of the yard in a jiffy. Beyond the ridge a wide mile of smooth country sloped to the rivermargin. Just off the road a great house lay long and low in fairacres. Its gables were red-roofed, its walls of graystone halfhidden by lofty hedges of cedar. We stopped our horses, lookingoff to the distant woods on each side of us. 

"Can't be, " said D'ri, soberly, his eyes squinting in the sunlight. 

"Wonder where they live, " I remarked. 

"All looks mighty cur'us, " said he. "'Tain' no way nat'ral. "

"Let's go in there and ask, " I suggested. 

We turned in at the big gate and rode silently over a driveway ofsmooth gravel to the door. In a moment I heard my father's heartyhello, and then my mother came out in a better gown than ever I hadseen her wear. I was out of the saddle and she in my arms before aword was spoken. My father, hardy old Yankee, scolded the stampinghorse, while I knew well he was only upbraiding his own weakness. 

"Come, Ray; come, Darius, " said my mother, as she wiped her eyes;"I will show you the new house. "

A man took the horses, and we all followed her into the splendidhall, while I was filled with wonder and a mighty longing for theold home. 

XX

It was a fine house--that in which I spent many happy years back inmy young manhood. Not, indeed, so elegant and so large as thiswhere I am now writing, but comfortable. To me, then, it had anatmosphere of romance and some look of grandeur. Well, in thosedays I had neither a sated eye, nor gout, nor judgment of goodwine. It was I who gave it the name of Fairacres that day when, coming out of the war, we felt its peace and comfort for the firsttime, and, dumfounded with surprise, heard my mother tell the storyof it. 

"My grandfather, " said she, "was the Chevalier Ramon Ducet deTrouville, a brave and gallant man who, for no good reason, disinherited my father. The property went to my uncle, the onlyother child of the chevalier, and he, as I have told you, wrotemany kind letters to me, and sent each year a small gift of money. Well, he died before the war, --it was in March, --and, having nochildren, left half his fortune to me. You, Ramon, will rememberthat long before you went away to the war a stranger came to see meone day--a stout man, with white hair and dark eyes. Do you notremember? Well, I did not tell you then, because I was unable tobelieve, that he came to bring the good news. But he came againafter you left us, and brought me money--a draft on account. Forus it was a very large sum, indeed. You know we have always beenso poor, and we knew that when the war was over there would be moreand a-plenty coming. So, what were we to do? 'We will build ahome, ' said I; 'we will enjoy life as much as possible. We willsurprise Ramon. When he returns from the war he shall see it, andbe very happy. ' The architect came with the builders, and, voila!the house is ready, and you are here, and after so long it isbetter than a fortune to see you. I thought you would never come. "

She covered her face a moment, while my father rose abruptly andleft the room. I kissed the dear hands that long since had givento heavy toil their beauty and shapeliness. 

But enough of this, for, after all, it is neither here nor there. Quick and unexpected fortune came to many a pioneer, as it came tomy mother, by inheritance, as one may see if he look only at therecords of one court of claims--that of the British. 

"Before long you may wish to marry, " said my mother, as she lookedup at me proudly, "and you will not be ashamed to bring your wifehere. "

I vowed, then and there, I should make my own fortune, --I hadYankee enough in me for that, --but, as will be seen, the wealth ofheart and purse my mother had, helped in the shaping of my destiny. In spite of my feeling, I know it began quickly to hasten thelife-currents that bore me on. And I say, in tender remembrance ofthose very dear to me, I had never a more delightful time than whenI sat by the new fireside with all my clan, --its number as yetundiminished, --or went roistering in wood or field with the youngerchildren. 

The day came when D'ri and I were to meet the ladies. We startedearly that morning of the 12th. Long before daylight we weremoving rapidly down-river in our canoes. 

I remember seeing a light flash up and die away in the moonlit mistof the river soon after starting. 

"The boogy light!" D'ri whispered. "There 't goes ag'in!"

I had heard the river folk tell often of this weird thing--one ofthe odd phenomena of the St. Lawrence. 

"Comes alwus where folks hev been drownded, " said D'ri. "Thetair's what I've hearn tell. "

It was, indeed, the accepted theory of the fishermen, albeit manysaw in the boogy light a warning to mark the place of forgottenmurder, and bore away. 

The sun came up in a clear sky, and soon, far and wide, its lightwas tossing in the rippletops. We could see them glowing milesaway. We were both armed with sabre and pistols, for that riverwas the very highway of adventure in those days of the war. 

"Don' jes' like this kind uv a hoss, " said D'ri. "Got t' keepwhalin' 'im all the while, an' he 's apt t' slobber 'n rough goin'. "

He looked thoughtfully at the sun a breath, and then trimmed hisremark with these words; "Ain't eggzac'Iy sure-footed, nuther. "

"Don't require much feed, though, " I suggested. 

"No; ye hev t' dew all the eatin', but ye can alwus eat 'nough ferboth. "

It was a fine day, and a ride to remember. We had a warm sun, aclear sky, and now and then we could feel the soft feet of thesouth wind romping over us in the river way. Here and there aswallow came coasting to the ripples, sprinkling the holy water ofdelight upon us, or a crow's shadow ploughed silently across ourbows. It thrilled me to go cantering beside the noisy Rapides duPlats or the wild-footed Galloup, two troops of water hurrying tothe mighty battles of the sea. We mounted reeling knolls, andcoasted over whirling dips, and rushed to boiling levels, andjumped foamy ridges, and went galloping in the rush and tumble oflong slopes. 

"Let 'er rip!" I could hear D'ri shouting, once in a while, as heflashed up ahead of me. "Let 'er rip! Consarn 'er pictur'!"

He gave a great yell of triumph as we slowed in a long stretch ofstill, broad water. "Judas Priest!" said he, as I came alongside, "thet air's rougher 'n the bog trail. "

We came to Paleyville with time only for a bite of luncheon beforedark. We could see no sign of life on the island or the "Canuckshore" as we turned our bows to the south channel. That eveningthe innkeeper sat with us under a creeking sign, our chairs tiltedto the tavernside. 

D'ri was making a moose-horn of birch-bark as he smokedthoughtfully. When he had finished, he raised it to his lips andmoved the flaring end in a wide circle as he blew a blast that rangmiles away in the far forest. 

"Ef we heppen t' git separated in any way, shape, er manner 'ceptone, " said he, as he slung it over his shoulder with a string, "ye'll know purty nigh where I be when ye hear thet air thing. "

"You said, 'in any way, shape, er manner 'cept one. '" I quoted. "What do you mean by that?"

My friend expectorated, looking off into the night soberly a moment. 

"Guess I didn't mean nuthin', " said he, presently. "When I set outt' say suthin', don't never know where I 'm goin' t' land. Gooddeal luk settin' sail without a compass. Thet 's one reason Idon't never say much 'fore women. "

Our good host hurried the lagging hours with many a tale of theriver and that island we were soon to visit, once the refuge ofTadusac, the old river pirate, so he told us, with a cave nowhaunted by some ghost. We started for the shore near ten o'clock, the innkeeper leading us with a lantern, its light flickering in awest wind. The sky was cloudy, the night dark. Our host lent usthe lantern, kindly offering to build a bonfire on the beach ateleven, to light us home. 

"Careful, boys, " said the innkeeper, as we got aboard. "Aimstraight fer th' head o' th' island, Can't ye see it--right overyer heads there? 'Member, they 's awful rough water below. "

We pushed off, D'ri leading. I could see nothing of the island, but D'ri had better eyes, and kept calling me as he went ahead. After a few strokes of the paddle I could see on the dark sky thedarker mass of tree-tops. 

"Better light up, " I suggested. We were now close in. 

"Hush!" he hissed. Then, as I came up to him, he went on, whispering: "'T ain't bes' t' mek no noise here. Don' know nonetew much 'bout this here business. Don' cal'late we 're goin' t'hev any trouble, but if we dew--Hark!"

We had both heard a stir in the bushes, and stuck our paddles inthe sand, listening. After a little silence I heard D'ri get upand step stealthily into the water and buckle on his sword. Then Icould hear him sinking the canoe and shoving her anchor deep intothe sand. He did it with no noise that, fifty feet away, couldhave been distinguished from that of the ever-murmuring waters. Ina moment he came and held my canoe, while I also took up my trustyblade, stepping out of the canoe into the shallow water. Then heshoved her off a little, and sank her beside the other. I knew nothis purpose, and made no question of it, following him as he strodethe shore with measured paces, the lantern upon his arm. Thenpresently he stuck his paddle into the bushes, and mine beside it. We were near the head of the island, walking on a reedy strip ofsoft earth at the river margin. After a few paces we halted tolisten, but heard only the voice of the water and the murmur ofpines. Then we pushed through a thicket of small fir trees towhere we groped along in utter darkness among the big tree trunkson a muffle-footing. After a moment or so we got a spray of light. We halted, peering at the glow that now sprinkled out through manya pinhole aperture in a fairy lattice of pine needles. 

My heart was beating loudly, for there was the promised lantern. Was I not soon to see the brighter light of those dear faces? Itwas all the kind of thing I enjoyed then, --the atmosphere of periland romance, --wild youth that I was. It is a pity, God knows, Ihad so little consideration for old D'ri; but he loved me, and--well, he himself had some pleasure in excitement. 

We halted for only a moment, pushing boldly through a thicket ofyoung pines into the light. A lantern hung on the bough of a talltree, and beneath it was a wide opening well carpeted with moss andneedles. We peered off into the gloom, but saw nothing. 

D'ri blew out a thoughtful breath, looking up into the air coolly, as he filled his pipe. 

"Consarned if ever I wanted t' have a smoke s' bad 'n all my borndays, " he remarked. 

Then he moved his holster, turned his scabbard, and sat downquietly, puffing his pipe with some look of weariness andreflection. We were sitting there less than five minutes when weheard a footfall near by; then suddenly two men strode up to us inthe dim light. I recognized at once the easy step, the long, lithefigure, of his Lordship in the dress of a citizen, saving sword andpistols. 

"Ah, good evening, gentlemen, " said he, quietly. "How are you?"

"Better than--than when we saw you last, " I answered. 

D'ri had not moved; he looked up at me with a sympathetic smile. 

"I presume, " said his Lordship, in that familiar, lazy tone, as helighted a cigar, "there was--ah--good room for improvement, wasthere not?"

"Abundant, " said I, thoughtfully. "You were not in the best ofhealth yourself that evening. "

"True, " said he; "I--I was in bad fettle and worse luck. "

"How are the ladies?"

"Quite well, " said he, blowing a long puff. 

"Ready to deliver them?" I inquired. 

"Presently, " said he. "There are--some formalities. "

"Which are--?" I added quickly. 

"A trifle of expenses and a condition, " said he, lazily. 

"How much, and what?" I inquired, as D'ri turned his ear. 

"One thousand pounds, " said his Lordship, quickly. "Not a pennymore than this matter has cost me and his Majesty. "

"What else?" said I. 

"This man, " he answered calmly, with a little gesture aimed at D'ri. 

My friend rose, struck his palm with the pipe-bowl, and put up hisknife. 

"Ef ye're goin' t' tek me, " said he, "better begin right off, er yewon't hev time 'fore breakfust. "

Then he clapped the moose-horn to his lips and blew a mighty blast. It made the two men jump and set the near thicket reeling. Theweird barytone went off moaning in the far wastes of timber. Itsrush of echoes had begun. I put my hand to my sabre, for there inthe edge of the gloom I saw a thing that stirred me to the marrow. The low firs were moving toward us, root and branch, their twigsfalling. Gods of war! it made my hair stand for a jiffy to see thevery brush take feet and legs. On sea or land I never saw a thingthat gave me so odd a feeling. We stood for a breath or two, thenstarted back, our sabres flashing; for, as the twigs fell, we sawthey had been decorating a squad of the British. They came on. Istruck at the lantern, but too late, for his Lordship had swung itaway. He stumbled, going to his knees; the lantern hit the earthand went out. I had seen the squad break, running each way, tosurround us. D'ri grabbed my hand as the dark fell, and we wentplunging through the little pines, hitting a man heavily, who fellgrunting. We had begun to hear the rattle of boats, a shouting, and quick steps on the shore. We crouched a moment. D'ri blew themoose-horn, pulling me aside with him quickly after the blast. Lights were now flashing near. I could see little hope for us, andD'ri, I thought, had gone crazy. He ran at the oncomers, yelling, "Hey, Rube!" at the top of his lungs. I lay low in the brush amoment. They rushed by me, D'ri in the fore with fending sabre. Atawny hound was running in the lead, his nose down, baying loudly. Then I saw the truth, and made after them with all the speed of mylegs. They hustled over the ridge, their lights flashing under. For a jiffy I could see only, here and there, a leaping glow in thetree-tops. I rushed on, passing one who had tumbled headlong. Thelights below me scattered quickly and stopped. I heard a greatyelling, a roar of muskets, and a clash of swords. A hush fell onthem as I came near, Then I heard a voice that thrilled me. 

"Your sword, sir!" it commanded. 

"Stop, " said I, sharply, coming near. 

There stood my father in the lantern-light, his sword drawn, hisgray hair stirring in the breeze. Before him was my old adversary, his Lordship, sword in hand. Near by, the squad of British, nowsurrounded, were giving up their arms. They had backed to theriver's edge; I could hear it lapping their heels. His Lordshipsneered, looking at the veteran who stood in a gray frock ofhomespun, for all the world, I fancy, like one of those old yeomenwho fought with Cromwell. 

"Your sword, sir, " my father repeated. 

"Pardon me, " said the young man, with a fascinating coolness ofmanner, "but I shall have to trouble you--"

He hesitated, feeling his blade. 

"How?" said my father. 

"To fight for it, " said his Lordship, quietly. 

"Surrender--fool!" my father answered. "You cannot escape. "

"Tut, tut!" said his Lordship. "I never heard so poor acompliment. Come in reach, and I shall make you think better ofme. "

"Give up your sword. "

"After my life, then my sword, " said he, with a quick thrust. 

Before I could take a step, their swords were clashing in deadlycombat. I rushed up to break in upon them, but the air was full ofsteel, and then my father needed no help. He was driving his manwith fiery vigor. I had never seen him fight; all I had seen ofhis power had been mere play. 

It was grand to see the old man fighting as if, for a moment, hisyouth had come back to him. I knew it could not go far. His firewould burn out quickly; then the blade of the young Britisher, tireless and quick as I knew it to be, would let his blood beforemy very eyes. What to do I knew not. Again I came up to them; butmy father warned me off hotly. He was fighting with terrificenergy. I swear to you that in half a minute he had broken thesword of his Lordship, who took to the water, swimming for hislife. I leaped in, catching him half over the eddy, where wefought like roadmen, striking in the air and bumping on the bottom. We were both near drowned when D'ri swam out and gave me hisbelt-end, hauling us in. 

I got to my feet soon. My father came up to me, and wiped a cuton my forehead. 

"Damn you, my boy!" said he. "Don't ever interfere with me in amatter of that kind. You might have been hurt. "

We searched the island, high and low, for the ladies, but with nosuccess. Then we marched our prisoners to the south channel, wherea bateau--the same that brought us help--had been waiting. One ofour men had been shot in the shoulder, another gored in the hipwith a bayonet, and we left a young Briton dead on the shore. Wetook our prisoners to Paleyville, and locked them overnight in theblockhouse. 

The channel was lighted by a big bonfire on the south bank, as wecame over. Its flames went high, and made a great, sloping volcanoof light in the darkness. 

After the posting of the guard, some gathered about my father andbegan to cheer him. It nettled the veteran. He would take nohonor for his defeat of the clever man, claiming the latter had nochance to fight. 

"He had no foot-room with the boy one side and D'ri t' other, " saidhe. "I had only to drive him back. "

My father and the innkeeper and D'ri and I sat awhile, smoking, inthe warm glow of the bonfire. 

"You 're a long-headed man, " said I, turning to my comrade. 

"Kind o' thought they'd be trouble, " said D'ri. "So I tuk 'n astyer father t' come over hossback with hef a dozen good men. Theygot three more et the tavern here, an' lay off 'n thet air bateau, waitin' fer the moosecall. I cal'lated I did n't want no moreslidin' over there 'n Canady. "

After a little snicker, he added: "Hed all 't wus good fer me thelas' time. 'S a leetle tew swift. "

"Gets rather scary when you see the bushes walk, " I suggested. 

"Seen whut wus up 'fore ever they med a move, " said D'ri. "Themair bushes did n't look jest es nat'ral es they'd orter. Bet yethey're some o' them bushwhackers o' Fitzgibbon. Got loops allover their uniforms, so ye c'u'd stick 'em full o' boughs. Jerushy! never see nuthin' s' joemightful cur'us 'n all my borndays--never. " He stopped a breath, and then added: "Could n't benuthin' cur'user 'n thet. "

XXI

We hired team and wagon of the innkeeper, and a man to paddleup-river and return with the horses. 

I had a brief talk with our tall prisoner while they were makingready. 

"A word of business, your Lordship, " I said as he came out, yawning, with the guard. 

"Ah, well, " said he, with a shiver, "I hope it is not so cold asthe air. "

"It is hopeful; it is cheering, " was my answer. 

"And the topic?"

"An exchange--for the ladies. "

He thought a moment, slapping the dust off him with a glove. 

"This kind of thing is hard on the trousers, " he remarkedcarelessly. "I will consider; I think it could be arranged. Meanwhile, I give you my word of honor, you need have no worry. "

We were off at daybreak with our prisoners; there were six of themin all. We put a fold of linen over the eyes of each, and ropedthem all together, so that they could sit or stand, as might pleasethem, in the wagonbox. 

"It's barbarity, " said his Lordship, as we put on the fold. "YouYankees never knew how to treat a prisoner. "

"Till you learnt us, " said D'ri, quickly. "Could n't never fergitthet lesson. Ef I hed my way 'bout you, I 'd haul ye up t' th' topo' thet air dead pine over yender, 'n' let ye slide down. "

"Rather too steep, I should say, " said his Lordship, wearily. 

"Ye wouldn't need no grease, " said D'ri, with a chuckle. 

We were four days going to the Harbor. My father and his men camewith us, and he told us many a tale, that journey, of hisadventures in the old war. We kept our promise, turning over theprisoners a little before sundown of the 16th. Each was given agreat room and every possible comfort. I arranged soon for therelease of all on the safe return of the ladies. 

In the evening of the 17th his Lordship sent for me. He was a bitnervous, and desired a conference with the general and me. DeChaumont had been over to the headquarters that day in urgentcounsel. He was weary of delay and planning an appeal to theFrench government. General Brown was prepared to give the matterall furtherance in his power, and sent quickly for the Englishman. They brought him over at nine o'clock. We uncovered his eyes andlocked the door, and "gave him a crack at the old Madeira, " as theyused to say, and made him as comfortable as might be at the cheeryfireside of the general. 

"I've been thinking, " said his Lordship. After a drink and a wordof courtesy. I never saw a man of better breeding or more courage, I am free to say. "You may not agree it is possible, but, anyhow, I have been trying to think. You have been decent to me. I don'tbelieve you are such a bad lot, after all; and while I should besorry to have you think me tired of your hospitality, I desire tohasten our plans a little. I propose an exchange of--of--"

He hesitated, whipping the ashes off his cigar. 

"Well--first of confidence, " he went on. "I will take your word ifyou will take mine. "

"In what matter?" the general inquired. 

"That of the ladies and their relief, " said he. "A littleconfidence will--will--"

"Grease the wheels of progress?" the general suggested, smiling. 

"Quite so, " he answered lazily. "To begin with, they are notthirty miles away, if I am correct in my judgment of this locality. "

There was a moment of silence. 

"My _dear_ sir, " he went on presently, "this ground is quitefamiliar to me. I slept in this very chamber long ago. But thatis not here nor there. Day after to-morrow, a little beforemidnight, the ladies will be riding on the shore pike. You couldmeet them and bring them out to a schooner, I suppose--if--"

He stopped again, puffing thoughtfully. 

"If we could agree, " he went on. "Now this would be my view of it:You let me send a messenger for the ladies. You would have to takethem by force somehow; but, you know, I could make it easy--arrangethe time and place, no house near, no soldiers, no resistence butthat of the driver, who should not share our confidence--no danger. You take them to the boats and bring them over; but, first--"

He paused again, looking at the smokerings above his head in adreamy manner. 

"'First, '" my chief repeated. 

"Well, " said he, leaning toward him with a little gesture, "to methe word of a gentleman is sacred. I know you are both gentlemen. I ask for your word of honor. "

"To what effect?" the general queried. 

"That you will put us safely on British soil within a day after theladies have arrived, " said he. 

"It is irregular and a matter of some difficulty, " said thegeneral. "Whom would you send with such a message?"

"Well, I should say some Frenchwoman could do it. There must beone here who is clever enough. "

"I know the very one, " said I, with enthusiasm. "She is as smartand cunning as they make them. "

"Very well, " said the general; "that is but one step. Who is tocapture them and take the risk of their own heads?"

"D'ri and I could do it alone, " was my confident answer. 

"Ah, well, " said his Lordship, as he rose languidly and stood withhis back to the fire, "I shall send them where the coast isclear--my word for that. Hang me if I fail to protect them. "

"I do not wish to question your honor, " said the general, "orviolate in any way this atmosphere of fine courtesy; but, sir, I donot know you. "

"Permit me to introduce myself, " said the Englishman, as he rippedhis coat-lining and drew out a folded sheet of purple parchment. 

"I am Lord Ronley, fifth Earl of Pickford, and, cousin of his MostExcellent Majesty the King of England; there is the proof. "

He tossed the parchment to the table carelessly, resuming his chair. 

"Forgive me, " said he, as the general took it. "I have littletaste for such theatricals. Necessity is my only excuse. "

"It is enough, " said the other. "I am glad to know you. I hopesometime we shall stop fighting each other--we of the same race andblood. It is unnatural. "

"Give me your hand, " said the Englishman, with heartier feelingthan I had seen him show, as he advanced. "Amen! I say to you. "

"Will you write your message? Here are ink and paper, " said thegeneral. 

His Lordship sat down at the table and hurriedly wrote theseletters:--

"PRESCOTT, ONTARIO, November 17, 1813. 

"To SIR CHARLES GRAVLEIGH, The Weirs, above Landsmere, Wrentham, Frontenac County, Canada. 

"MY DEAR GRAVLEIGH: Will you see that the baroness and her twowards, the Misses de Lambert, are conveyed by my coach, on theevening of the 18th inst, to that certain point on the shore pikebetween Amsbury and Lakeside known as Burnt Ridge, there to waitback in the timber for my messenger? Tell them they are to bereturned to their home, and give them my very best wishes. Lamsonwill drive, and let the bearer ride with the others. 

 "Very truly yours, "RONLEY. "

 _To whom it may concern_. 

"Mme. St. Jovite, the bearer, is on her way to my house atWrentham, Frontenac County, second concession, with a despatch ofurgent character. I shall be greatly favored by all who give herfurtherance in this journey. 

 "Respectfully, etc. , "Ronley, "Colonel of King's Guard. "

For fear of a cipher, the general gave tantamount terms for eachletter, and his Lordship rewrote them. 

"I thought the name St. Jovite would be as good as any, " heremarked. 

The rendezvous was carefully mapped. The guard came, and hisLordship rose languidly. 

"One thing more, " said he. "Let the men go over withoutarms--if--if you will be so good. "

"I shall consider that, " said the general. 

"And when shall the messenger start?"

"Within the hour, if possible, " my chief answered. 

As they went away, the general sat down with me for a moment, todiscuss the matter. 

XXII

Herein is the story of the adventures of his Lordship's courier, known as Mme. St. Jovite, on and after the night of November 17, 1813, in Upper Canada. This account may be accepted as quitetrustworthy, its writer having been known to me these many years, in the which neither I nor any of my friends have had occasion todoubt her veracity. The writer gave more details than aredesirable, but the document is nothing more than a letter to anintimate friend. I remember well she had an eye for color and ataste for description not easy to repress. 

When I decided to go it was near midnight, The mission was not allto my taste, but the reward was handsome and the letter of LordRonley reassuring. I knew I could do it, and dressed as soon aspossible and walked to the Lone Oak, a sergeant escorting. There, as I expected, the big soldier known as D'ri was waiting, his canoein a wagon that stood near. We all mounted the seat, drivingpell-mell on a rough road to Tibbals Point, on the southwest cornerof Wolf Island. A hard journey it was, and near two o'clock, Ishould say, before we put our canoe in the water. Then the manD'ri helped me to an easy seat in the bow and shoved off. A fullmoon, yellow as gold, hung low in the northwest. The water wascalm, and we cut across "the moon way, " that funnelled off to theshores of Canada. 

"It is one ver' gran' night, " I said in my dialect of the rudeCanuck; for I did not wish him, or any one, to know me. War iswar, but, surely, such adventures are not the thing for a woman. 

"Yis, mahm, " he answered, pushing hard with the paddle. "Yer afriend o' the cap'n, ain't ye--Ray Bell?"

"Ze captain? Ah, oui, m'sieu', " I said. "One ver' brave man, ain't it?"

"Yis, mahm, " said he, soberly and with emphasis. "He 's more 'n adozen brave men, thet's whut he is. He's a joemightyful cuss. Ain't nuthin' he can't dew--spryer 'n a painter, stouter 'n amoose, an' treemenjous with a sword. "

The moon sank low, peering through distant tree-columns, and wentout of sight. Long stubs of dead pine loomed in the dim, goldenafterglow, their stark limbs arching high in the heavens--likemullions in a great Gothic window. 

"When we git nigh shore over yender, " said my companion, "don'tbelieve we better hev a grea' deal t' say. I ain't a-goin' t' betuk--by a jugful--not ef I can help it. Got me 'n a tight placeone night here 'n Canady. "

"Ah, m'sieu', in Canada! How did you get out of it?" I queried. 

"Slipped out, " said he, shaking the canoe with suppressed laughter. "Jes' luk a streak o' greased lig-htnin', " he added presently. 

"The captain he seems ver' anxious for me to mak' great hurry, " Iremarked. 

"No wonder; it's his lady-love he 's efter--faster 'n a weasel t'see 'er, " said he, snickering. 

"Good-looking?" I queried. 

"Han'some es a pictur', " said he, soberly. 

In a moment he dragged his paddle, listening. 

"Thet air's th' shore over yender, " he whispered. "Don't say aword now. I 'll put ye right on the p'int o' rocks. Creep 'longcareful till ye git t' th' road, then turn t' th' left, the cap'ntol' me. "

When I stepped ashore my dress caught the gunwale and upset ourcanoe. The good man rolled noisily into the water, and rosedripping. I tried to help him. 

"Don't bother me--none, " he whispered testily, as if out ofpatience, while he righted the canoe. 

When at last he was seated again, as I leaned to shove him off, hewhispered in a compensating, kindly manner: "When ye 're goin'ashore, an' they 's somebody 'n the canoe, don't never try t' tekit with ye 'less ye tell 'im yer goin' tew. "

There was a deep silence over wood and water, but he went away sostealthily I could not hear the stir of his paddle. I stoodwatching as he dimmed off in the darkness, going quickly out ofsight. Then I crept over the rocks and through a thicket, shivering, for the night had grown chilly. I snagged my dress on abrier every step, and had to move by inches. After mincing alonghalf an hour or so, I came where I could feel a bit of clear earth, and stood there, dancing on my tiptoes, in the dark, to quicken myblood a little. Presently the damp light of dawn came leakingthrough the tree-tops. I heard a rattling stir in the bare limbsabove me. Was it some monster of the woods? Although I have morecourage than most women, it startled me, and I stood still. Thelight came clearer; there was a rush toward me that shook theboughs. I peered upward. It was only a squirrel, now scratchinghis ear, as he looked down at me. He braced himself, and seemed tocurse me loudly for a spy, trembling with rage and rushing up anddown the branch above me. Then all the curious, inhospitable folkof the timber-land came out upon their towers to denounce. 

I made my way over the rustling, brittle leaves, and soon found atrail that led up over high land. I followed it for a matter ofsome minutes, and came to the road, taking my left-hand way, asthey told me. There was no traveller in sight. I walked as fastas I could, passing a village at sunrise, where I asked my way inFrench at a smithy. Beyond there was a narrow clearing, stumpy andrank with briers, on the up-side of the way. Presently, lookingover a level stretch, I could see trees arching the road again, from under which, as I was looking, a squad of cavalry came out inthe open. It startled me. I began to think I was trapped, Ithought of dodging into the brush. But, no; they had seen me, andI would be a fool now to turn fugitive. I looked about me. Cowswere feeding near. I picked up a stick and went deliberately intothe bushes, driving one of them to the pike and heading her towardthem. They went by at a gallop, never pulling up while in sight ofme. Then I passed the cow and went on, stopping an hour later at alonely log house, where I found French people, and a welcome thatincluded moose meat, a cup of coffee, and fried potatoes. Leaving, I rode some miles with a travelling tinker, a voluble, well-meaningyouth who took a liking for me, and went far out of his way to helpme on. He blushed proudly when, stopping to mend a pot for thecook at a camp of militia, they inquired if I was his wife. 

"No; but she may be yet, " said he; "who knows?"

I knew it was no good place for me, and felt some relief when theyoung man did me this honor. From that moment they set me down fora sweetheart. 

"She 's too big for you, my boy, " said the general, laughing. 

"The more the better, " said he; "can't have too much of a goodwife. "

I said little to him as we rode along. He asked for my address, when I left him, and gave me the comforting assurance that he wouldsee me again. I made no answer, leaving him at a turn where, northof us, I could see the white houses of Wrentham. Kingston was hardby, its fort crowning a hill-top by the river. 

It was past three by a tower clock at the gate of the Weirs when Igot there. A driveway through tall oaks led to the mansion of darkstone. Many acres of park and field and garden were shut in withhigh walls. I rang a bell at the small gate, and some fellow inlivery took my message. 

"Wait 'ere, my lass, " said he, with an English accent. "I 'll goat once to the secretary. "

I sat in a rustic chair by the gate-side, waiting for thatfunctionary. 

"Ah, come in, come in, " said he, coolly, as he opened the gate alittle. 

He said nothing more, and I followed him--an oldish man with grayeyes and hair and side-whiskers, and neatly dressed, his headcovered to the ears with a high hat, tilted backward. We took astone path, and soon entered a rear door. 

"She may sit in the servants' hall, " said he to one of the maids, They took my shawl, as he went away, and showed me to a room where, evidently, the servants did their eating. They were inquisitive, those kitchen maids, and now and then I was rather put to it for awise reply. I said as little as might be, using the dialect, longfamiliar to me, of the French Canadian. My bonnet amused them. Itwas none too new or fashionable, and I did not remove it. 

"Afraid we 'll steal it, " I heard one of them whisper in the nextroom. Then there was a loud laugh. 

They gave me a French paper. I read every line of it, and satlooking out of a window at the tall trees, at servants who passedto and fro, at his Lordship's horses, led up and down for exercisein the stable-yard, at the twilight glooming the last pictures of along day until they were all smudged with darkness. Thencandle-light, a trying supper hour with maids and cooks and groomsand footmen at the big table, English, every one of them, and setup with haughty curiosity. I would not go to the table, and had acup of tea and a biscuit there in my corner. A big butler walkedin hurriedly awhile after seven. He looked down at me as if Iwere the dirt of the gutter. 

"They 're waitin', " said he, curtly. "An' Sir Chawles would liketo know if ye would care for a humberreller?"

"Ah, m'sieu'! he rains?" I inquired. 

"No, mum. "

"Ah! he is going to rain, maybe?"

He made no answer, but turned quickly and went to a near closet, from which he brought a faded umbrella. 

"There, " said he, as he led me to the front door, "see that yousend it back. "

On the porch were the secretary and the ladies--three of them. 

"Ciel! what is it?" one of them whispered as I came out. 

The post-lights were shining in their faces, and lovelier I neversaw than those of the demoiselles. They stepped lightly to thecoach, and the secretary asked if I would go in with them. 

"No, m'sieu', " was my answer; "I sit by ze drivaire. "

"Come in here, you silly goose, " said one of the ladies in French, recognizing my nationality. 

"Grand merci!" I said, taking my seat by the driver; and then wewere off, with as lively a team as ever carried me, our lightsflashing on the tree trunks. We had been riding more than twohours when we stopped for water at a spring-tub under a hill. Theygave me a cup, and, for the ladies, I brought each a bumper of thecool, trickling flood. 

"Ici, my tall woman, " said one of them, presently, "my boot isuntied. "

Her dainty foot came out of the coach door under ruffles of silk. I hesitated, for I was not accustomed to that sort of service. 

"Lambine!" she exclaimed. "Make haste, will you?" her foot movingimpatiently. 

My fingers had got numb in the cold air, and I must have been veryawkward, for presently she boxed my ears and drew her foot away. 

"Dieu!" said she. "Tell him to drive on. "

I got to my seat quickly, confident that nature had not intended mefor a lady's-maid. Awhile later we heard the call of a picket farafield, but saw no camp. A horseman--I thought him a cavalryofficer--passed us, flashing in our faces the light of a darklantern, but said nothing. It must have been near midnight when, as we were going slowly through deep sand, I heard the clang of acow-bell in the near darkness. Another sounded quickly a bitfarther on. The driver gave no heed to it, although I recognizedthe signal, and knew something would happen shortly. We had comeinto the double dark of the timber when, suddenly, our horsesreared, snorting, and stopped. The driver felt for his big pistol, but not in the right place; for two hours or more it had beenstowed away in the deep pocket of my gown. Not a word was spoken. By the dim light of the lanterns we could see men all about us withpikes looming in the dark. For a breath or two there was perfectsilence; then the driver rose quickly and shouted: "Who are you?"

"Frien's o' these 'ere women, " said one I recognized as theCorporal D'ri. 

He spoke in a low tone as he opened the door. 

"Grace au ciel!" I heard one of the young ladies saying. "It isD'ri--dear old fellow!"

Then they all hurried out of the coach and kissed him. 

"The captain--is he not here?" said one of them in French. ButD'ri did not understand them, and made no answer. 

"Out wi' the lights, an' be still, " said D'ri, quickly, and thelights were out as soon as the words. "Jones, you tie up a frontleg o' one o' them hosses. Git back in the brush, ladies. Five on'em, boys. Now up with the pike wall!"

From far back in the road had come again the clang of the cow-bell. I remember hearing five strokes and then a loud rattle. In atwinkling I was off the seat and beside the ladies. 

"Take hold of my dress, " I whispered quickly, "and follow me. "

I led them off in the brush, and stopped. We could hear the moveand rattle of cavalry in the near road. Then presently the swishof steel, the leap and tumble of horses, the shouting of men. Mycompanions were of the right stuff; they stood shivering, but heldtheir peace. Out by the road lights were flashing, and now weheard pistols and the sound of a mighty scuffle. I could staythere in the dark no longer. 

"Wait here, and be silent, " I said, and ran "like a madwoman, " asthey told me long after, for the flickering lights. 

There a squad of cavalry was shut in by the pikes. Two troopershad broken through the near line. One had fallen, badly hurt; theother was sabre to sabre with the man D'ri. They were close up andstriving fiercely, as if with broadswords. I caught up the weaponof the injured man, for I saw the Yankee would get the worst of it. The Britisher had great power and a sabre quick as a cat's paw. Icould see the corporal was stronger, but not so quick and skilful. As I stood by, quivering with excitement, I saw him get a slash inthe shoulder. He stumbled, falling heavily. Then quickly, forgetting my sex, but not wholly, I hope, the conduct that becomesa woman, I caught the point of the sabre, now poised to run himthrough, with the one I carried. He backed away, hesitating, forhe had seen my hat and gown. But I made after him with all thefury I felt, and soon had him in action. He was tired, I have nodoubt; anyway, I whirled his sabre and broke his hold, whipping itto the ground. That was the last we saw of him, for he made off inthe dark faster than I could follow. The trouble was all over, save the wound of the corporal, which was not as bad as I thought. He was up, and one of them, a surgeon, was putting stitches in hisupper arm. Others were tying four men together with rope. Theirweapons were lying in a little heap near by. One of the Britishwas saying that Sir Charles Gravleigh had sent for them to rideafter the coach. 

"Jerushy Jane Pepper!" said the man D'ri. "Never see no sechwil'cat uv a woman es thet air. "

I looked down at my gown; I felt of my hat, now hanging over oneear. Sure enough, I was a woman. 

"Who be ye, I 'd like t' know?" said the man D'ri. 

"Ramon Bell--a Yankee soldier of the rank of captain, " I said, stripping off my gown. "But, I beg of you, don't tell the ladies Iwas ever a woman. "

"Judas Priest!" said D'ri, as he flung his well arm around me. 

XXIII

I felt foolish for a moment. I had careful plans for Mme. St. Jovite. She would have vanished utterly on our return; so, Ifancy, none would have been the wiser. But in that brief sally Ihad killed the madame; she could serve me no more. I have beencareful in my account of this matter to tell all just as ithappened, to put upon it neither more nor less of romantic colorthan we saw. Had I the skill and license of a novelist, I couldhave made much of my little mystery; but there are many now livingwho remember all these things, and then, I am a soldier, and tooold for a new business. So I make as much of them as there was andno more. 

In private theatricals, an evening at the Harbor, I had wonapplause with the rig, wig, and dialect of my trip to WrenthamSquare. So, when I proposed a plan to my friend the general, urging the peril of a raw hand with a trust of so much importance, he had no doubt of my ability. 

I borrowed a long coat, having put off my dress, and, when all wasready, went with a lantern to get the ladies. Louise recognized mefirst. 

"Grace au ciel! le capitaine!" said she, running to meet me. 

I dropped my lantern as we came face to face, and have ever beenglad of that little accident, for there in the dark my arms wentaround her, and our lips met for a silent kiss full of history andof holy confidence. Then she put her hand upon my face with agentle caressing touch, and turned her own away. 

"I am very, very glad to see you, " I said. 

"Dieu!" said her sister, coming near, "we should be glad to seeyou, if it were possible. "

I lighted the lantern hurriedly. 

"Ciel! the light becomes him, " said Louison, her grand eyes aglow. 

But before there was time to answer I had kissed her also. 

"He is a bold thing, " she added, turning soberly to the baroness. 

"Both a bold and happy thing, " I answered. "Forgive me. I shouldnot be so bold if I were not--well--insanely happy. "

"He is only a boy, " said the baroness, laughing as she kissed me. 

"Poor little ingenu!" said Louison, patting my arm. 

Louise, tall and lovely and sedate as ever, stood near me, primpingher bonnet. 

"Little ingenu!" she repeated, with a faint laugh of irony as sheplaced the dainty thing on her head. 

"Well, what do _you_ think of him?" said Louison, turning to helpher. 

"Dieu! that he is very big and dreadful, " said the other, soberly. "I should think we had better be going. "

These things move slowly on paper, but the greeting was to mepainfully short, there being of it not more than a minuteful, Ishould say. On our way to the lights they plied me with whisperedqueries, and were in fear of more fighting. The prisoners were nowin the coach, and our men--there were twelve--stood on every sideof it, their pikes in hand. The boats were near, and we hurried tothe river by a toteway. Our schooner lay some twenty rods off apoint. A bateau and six canoes were waiting on the beach, and whenwe had come to the schooner I unbound the prisoners. 

"You can get ashore with this bateau, " I said. "You will find thehorses tied to a tree. "

"Wha' does thet mean?" said D'ri. 

"That we have no right to hold them, " was my answer. "Ronley was, in no way responsible for their coming. "

Leaning over the side with a lantern, while one of our men held thebateau, I motioned to the coachman. 

"Give that 'humberreller' to the butler, with my compliments, " Iwhispered. 

Our anchors up, our sails took the wind in a jiffy. 

"Member how we used ye, " D'ri called to the receding Britishers, "an' ef ye ever meet a Yankee try t' be p'lite tew 'im. "

Dawn had come before we got off at the Harbor dock. I took theladies to an inn for breakfast, wrote a report, and went for myhorse and uniform. General Brown was buttoning his suspenders whenthey admitted me to his room. 

"What luck, my boy?" said he. 

"All have returned safely, including the ladies, " I repliedquickly, "and I have the honor to submit a report. "

He took a chair, and read the report carefully, and looked up atme, laughing. 

"What a lucky and remarkable young man!" said he. "I declare, youshould have lived in the Middle Ages. "

"Ah, then I should not have enjoyed your compliments or yourfriendship, " was my answer. 

He laughed again heartily. 

"Nor the demoiselles', " said he. "I congratulate you. They arethe loveliest of their sex; but I'm sorry they're not Americans. "

"Time enough. I have decided that one of them shall become anAmerican, " said I, with all the confidence of youth. 

"It is quite an undertaking, " said he. "You may find newdifficulties. Their father is at the chateau. "

"M'sieur de Lambert?" I exclaimed. 

"M'sieur de Lambert. Came yesterday, via Montreal, with a fineyoung nobleman--the Count Esmon de Brovel, " said he. "You mustlook out for him; he has the beauty of Apollo and the sword of acavalier. "

"And I no fear of him, " I answered soberly, with a quick sense ofalarm. 

"They rode over in the afternoon with Chaumont, " he went on. "Itseems the young ladies' father, getting no news of them, had becomeworried. Well, you may go and have three days for your fun; Ishall need you presently. "

Breakfast over, I got a team for the ladies, and, mounting my ownhorse, rode before them. I began to consider a very odd thing inthis love experience. While they were in captivity I had begun tothink less of Louison and more of Louise. In truth, one face hadfaded a little in my memory; the other, somehow, had grown clearerand sweeter, as if by a light borrowed from the soul behind it. Now that I saw Louison, her splendid face and figure appealed to mewith all the power of old. She was quick, vivacious, subtle, aggressive, cunning, aware and proud of her charms, and ever makingthe most of them. She, ah, yes, she could play with a man for themere pleasure of victory, and be very heartless if--if she were notin love with him. This type of woman had no need of argument tomake me feel her charms. With her the old doubt had returned tome; for how long? I wondered. Her sister was quite herantithesis--thoughtful, slow, serious, even-tempered, frank, quiet, unconscious of her beauty, and with that wonderful thing, a voicetender and low and sympathetic and full of an eloquence I couldnever understand, although I felt it to my finger-tips. I couldnot help loving her, and, indeed, what man with any life in himfeels not the power of such a woman? That morning, on thewoods-pike, I reduced the problem to its simplest terms: the onewas a physical type, the other a spiritual. 

"M'sieur le Capitaine, " said Louison, as I rode by the carriage, "what became of the tall woman last night?"

"Left us there in the woods, " I answered. "She was afraid of you. "

"Afraid of me! Why?"

"Well, I understand that you boxed her ears shamefully. "

A merry peal of laughter greeted my words. 

"It was too bad; you were very harsh, " said Louise, soberly. 

"I could not help it; she was an ugly, awkward thing, " saidLouison. "I could have pulled her nose'"

"And it seems you called her a geante also, " I said. "She wasquite offended. "

"It was a compliment, " said the girl. "She was an Amazon--like thecount's statue of Jeanne d'Arc. "

"Poor thing! she could not help it, " said Louise. 

"Well, " said Louison, with a sigh of regret, "if I ever see heragain I shall give her a five-franc piece. "

There was a moment of silence, and she broke it. 

"I hope, this afternoon, you will let me ride that horse, " said she. 

"On one condition, " was my reply. 

"And it is--?"

"That you will let me ride yours at the same time. "

"Agreed, " was her answer. "Shall we go at three?"

"With the consent of the baroness and--and your father, " I said. 

"Father!" exclaimed the two girls. /

"Your father, " I repeated. "He is now at the chateau. "

"Heavens!" said Louison. 

"What will he say?" said the baroness. 

"I am so glad--my dear papa!" said Louise, clapping her hands. 

We were out of the woods now, and could see the chateau in theuplands. 

XXIV

There was a dignity in the manners of M. De Lambert to meformidable and oppressive. It showed in his tall, erect figure, his deep tone, his silvered hair and mustache. There was a merryword between the kisses of one daughter; between those of the otheronly tears and a broken murmur. 

"Oh, papa, " said Louison, as she greeted him, "I do love you--but Idread that--tickly old mustache. Mon Dieu! what a lover--you musthave been!"

Then she presented me, and put her hand upon my arm, lookingproudly at her father. 

"My captain!" said she. "Did you ever see a handsomer Frenchman?"

"There are many, and here is one, " said he, turning to the youngcount, who stood behind him--a fine youth, tall, strong-built, well-spoken, with blond hair and dark, keen eyes. I admit franklyI had not seen a better figure of a man. I assure you, he had theform of Hercules, the eye of Mars. It was an eye tocommand--women; for I had small reason to admire his courage when Iknew him better. He took a hand of each young lady, and kissed itwith admirable gallantry. 

"Dieu! it is not so easy always to agree with one's father, " saidLouison. 

We went riding that afternoon--Therese and her marquis and Louisonand I. The first two went on ahead of us; we rode slowly, and fora time no word was spoken. Winds had stripped the timber, andswept its harvest to the walls and hollows, where it lay bleachingin the sun. Birch and oak and maple were holding bared arms to thewind, as if to toughen them for storm and stress. I felt a mightysadness, wondering if my own arms were quite seasoned for all thatwas to come. The merry-hearted girl beside me was ever like a dayof June--the color of the rose in her cheek, its odor always in herhair and lace. There was never an hour of autumn in her life. 

"Alas, you are a very silent man!" said she, presently, with alittle sigh. 

"Only thinking, " I said. 

"Of what?"

"Dieu! of the dead summer, " I continued. 

"Believe me, it does not pay to think, " she interrupted. "I triedit once, and made a sad discovery. "

"Of what?"

"A fool!" said she, laughing. 

"I should think it--it might have been a coquette, " said I, lightly. 

"Why, upon my word, " said she, "I believe you misjudge me. Do youthink me heartless?"

For the first time I saw a shadow in her face. 

"No; but you are young and--and beautiful, and--"

"What?" she broke in impatiently, as I hesitated. "I long to know. "

"Men will love you in spite of all you can do, " I added. 

"Captain!" said she, turning her face away. 

"Many will love you, and--and you can choose only one--a very hardthing to do--possibly. "

"Not hard, " said she, "if I see the right one--and--and--he lovesme also. "

I had kept myself well in hand, for I was full of doubts that day;but the clever girl came near taking me, horse, foot, and guns, that moment. She spoke so charmingly, she looked so winning, andthen, was it not easy to ask if I were the lucky one? She knew Iloved her, I knew that she had loved me, and I might as wellconfess. But no; I was not ready. 

"You must be stern with the others; you must not let them tellyou, " I went on. 

"Ciel!" said she, laughing, "one might as well go to a nunnery. May not a girl enjoy her beauty? It is sweet to her. "

"But do not make it bitter for the poor men. Dieu! I am one ofthem, and know their sorrows. "

"And you--you have been in love?"

"Desperately, " I answered, clinging by the finger-tips. Somehow wekept drifting into fateful moments when a word even might havechanged all that has been--our life way, the skies above us, thefriends we have known, our loves, our very souls. 

She turned, smiling, her beauty flashing up at me with a powerquite irresistible. I shut my eyes a moment, summoning all myforces. There was only a step between me and--God knows what!

"Captain, you are a foolish fellow, " said she, with a littleshudder. "And I--well, I am cold. Parbleu! feel my hand. "

She had drawn her glove quickly, and held out her hand, white andbeautiful, a dainty finger in a gorget of gems. That little cold, trembling hand seemed to lay hold of my heart and pull me to her. As my lips touched the palm I felt its mighty magic. Dear girl! Iwonder if she planned that trial for me. 

"We must--ride--faster. You--you--are cold, " I stammered. 

She held her hand so that the sunlight flashed in the jewels, andlooked down upon it proudly. 

"Do you think it beautiful?" she asked. 

"Yes, and wonderful, " I said. "But, mark me, it is all a sacredtrust--the beauty you have. "

"Sacred?"

"More sacred than the power of kings, " I said. 

"Preacher!" said she, with a smile. "You should give yourself tothe church. "

"I can do better with the sword of steel, " I said. 

"But do not be sad. Cheer up, dear fellow!" she went on, pattingmy elbow with a pretty mockery. "We women are not--not so bad. When I find the man I love--"

Her voice faltered as she began fussing with her stirrup. 

I turned with a look of inquiry, changing quickly to one ofadmiration. 

"I shall make him love me, if I can, " she went on soberly. 

"And if he does?" I queried, my blood quickening as our eyes met. 

"Dieu! I would do anything for him, " said she. 

I turned away, looking off at the brown fields. Ah, then, for abreath, my heart begged my will for utterance. The first wordpassed my lips when there came a sound of galloping hoofs andTheresa and the marquis. 

"Come, dreamers, " said the former, as they pulled up beside us. "Acold dinner is the worst enemy of happiness. "

"And he is the worst robber that shortens the hour of love, " saidthe marquis, smiling. 

We turned, following them at a swift gallop. They had helped meout of that mire of ecstasy, and now I was glad, for, on my soul, Ibelieved the fair girl had found one more to her liking, and wasonly playing for my scalp. And at last I had begun to know my ownheart, or thought I had. 

D'ri came over that evening with a letter from General Brown. Hedesired me to report for duty next day at two. 

"War--it is forever war, " said Therese, when I told her at dinner. "There is to be a coaching-party to-morrow, and we shall miss you, captain. "

"Can you not soon return?" said the baroness. 

"I fear not, " was my answer. "It is to be a long campaign. "

"Oh, the war! When will it ever end?" said Louise, sighing. 

"When we are all dead, " said Louison. 

"Of loneliness?" said the old count, with a smile. 

"No; of old age, " said Louison, quickly. 

"When the army goes into Canada it will go into trouble, " said theComte de Chaumont, speaking in French. "We shall have to get youout of captivity, captain. "

"Louise would rescue him, " said her sister. "She has influencethere. "

"Would you pay my ransom?" I inquired, turning to her. 

"With my life, " said she, solemnly. 

"Greater love hath no man than this, " said the good Pere Joulin, smiling as the others laughed. 

"And none has greater obligation, " said Louise, blushing withembarrassment. "Has he not brought us three out of captivity?"

"Well, if I am taken, " I said, "nothing can bring me back unless itbe--"

"A miracle?" the baroness prompted as I paused. 

"Yes; even a resurrection, " was my answer. "I know what it meansfor a man to be captured there these days. "

Louise sat beside me, and I saw what others failed to notice--hernapkin stop quickly on its way to her lips, her hand tighten as itheld the white linen. It made me regretful of my thoughtlessanswer, but oddly happy for a moment. Then they all besought mefor some adventure of those old days in the army. I told them thestory of the wasps, and, when I had finished, our baroness told ofthe trouble it led to--their capture and imprisonment. 

"It was very strange, " said she, in conclusion. "That Englishmangrew kinder every day we were there, until we began to feel athome. "

They were all mystified, but I thought I could understand it. Wehad a long evening of music, and I bade them all good-by beforegoing to bed, for they were to be off early. 

Well, the morning came clear, and before I was out of bed I heardthe coach-horn, the merry laughter of ladies under my window, theprancing hoofs, and the crack of the whip as they all went away. It surprised me greatly to find Louise at the breakfast table whenI came below-stairs; I shall not try to say how much it pleased me. She was gowned in pink, a red rose at her bosom. I remember, as ifit were yesterday, the brightness of her big eyes, the glow in hercheeks, the sweet dignity of her tall, fine figure when she roseand gave me her hand. 

"I did feel sorry, ma'm'selle, that I could not go; but now--now Iam happy, " was my remark. 

"Oh, captain, you are very gallant, " said she, as we took seats. "I was not in the mood for merrymaking, and then, I am reading abook. "

"A book! May its covers be the gates of happiness, " I answered. 

"Eh bien! it is a tale of love, " said she. 

"Of a man for a woman?" I inquired. 

"Of a lady that loved two knights, and knew not which the better. "

"Is it possible and--and reasonable?" I inquired. "In a talethings should go as--well, as God plans them. "

"Quite possible, " said she, "for in such a thing as love who knowswhat--what may happen?"

"Except he have a wide experience, " I answered. 

"And have God's eyes, " said she. "Let me tell you. They were bothhandsome, brave, splendid, of course, but there was a difference:the one had a more perfect beauty of form and face, the other anobler soul. "

"And which will she favor?"

"Alas! I have not read, and do not know her enough to judge, " washer answer; "but I shall hate her if she does not take him with thebetter soul. "

"And why?" I could hear my heart beating. 

"Love is not love unless it be--" She paused, thinking. "Dieu!from soul to soul, " she added feelingly. 

She was looking down, a white, tapered finger stirring the redpetals of the rose. Then she spoke in a low, sweet tone thattrembled with holy feeling and cut me like a sword of the spiritgoing to its very hilt in my soul. 

"Love looks to what is noble, " said she, "or it is vain--it iswicked; it fails; it dies in a day, like the rose. True love, thatis forever. "

"What if it be hopeless?" I whispered. 

"Ah! then it is very bitter, " said she, her voice diminishing. "Itmay kill the body, but--but love does not die. When it comes--"There was a breath of silence that had in it a strange harmony notof this world. 

"'When it comes'?" I whispered. 

"You see the coming of a great king, " said she, looking downthoughtfully, her chin, upon her hand. 

"And all people bow their heads, " I said. 

"Yes, " she added, with a sigh, "and give their bodies to be burned, if he ask it. The king is cruel--sometimes. "

"Dieu!" said I. "He has many captives. "

She broke a sprig of fern, twirling it in her fingers; her big eyeslooked up at me, and saw, I know, to the bottom of my soul. 

"But long live the king!" said she, her lips trembling, her cheeksas red as the rose upon her bosom. 

"Long live the king!" I murmured. 

We dared go no farther. Sweet philosopher, inspired of Heaven, Icould not bear the look of her, and rose quickly with dim eyes andwent out of the open door. A revelation had come to me. Mere deDieu! how I loved that woman so fashioned in thy image! Shefollowed me, and laid her hand upon my arm tenderly, while I shookwith emotion. 

"Captain, " said she, in that sweet voice, "captain, what have Idone?"

It was the first day of the Indian summer, a memorable season thatyear, when, according to an old legend, the Great Father sits idlyon the mountain-tops and blows the smoke of his long pipe into thevalleys. In a moment I was quite calm, and stood looking off tothe hazy hollows of the far field. I gave her my arm withoutspeaking, and we walked slowly down a garden path. For a timeneither broke the silence. 

"I did not know--I did not know, " she whispered presently. 

"And I--must--tell you, " I said brokenly, "that I--that I--"

"Hush-sh-sh!" she whispered, her hand over my lips. "Say no more!say no more! If it is true, go--go quickly, I beg of you!"

There was such a note of pleading in her voice, I hear it, afterall this long time, in the hushed moments of my life, night or day. "Go--go quickly, I beg of you!" We were both near breaking down. 

[Illustration: "We were both near breaking down. "]

"Vive le roi!" I whispered, taking her hand. 

"Vive le roi!" she whispered, turning away. 

XXV

How empty and weak are my words that try to tell of that day! Idoubt if there is in them anywhere what may suggest, even feebly, the height and depth of that experience or one ray of the light inher face. There are the words nearly as we said them; there arethe sighs, the glances, the tears: but everywhere there is muchmissing--that fair young face and a thousand things irresistiblethat drift in with every tide of high feeling. Of my history thereis not much more to write, albeit some say the best is untold. 

I had never such a heart of lead as went with me to my work thatafternoon. What became of me I cared not a straw then, for I knewmy love was hopeless. D'ri met me as I got off my horse at theHarbor. His keen eye saw my trouble quickly--saw near to thebottom of it. 

"Be'n hit?" said he, his great hand on my shoulder. 

"With trouble, " I answered. "Torn me up a little inside. "

"Thought so, " he remarked soberly. "Judas Priest! ye luk es ef ashell 'ad bu'st 'n yer cockpit. Ain' nuthin' 'll spile a manquicker. Sheer off a leetle an' git out o' range. An' 'member, Ray, don't never give up the ship. Thet air 's whut Perry tol' us. "

I said nothing and walked away, but have always remembered hiscounsel, there was so much of his big heart in it. The army was tomove immediately, in that foolish campaign of Wilkinson that endedwith disaster at Chrysler's Farm. They were making the boats, small craft with oars, of which three hundred or more would beneeded to carry us. We were to go eastward on the river and joinHampden, whose corps was to march overland to Plattsburg, at somepoint on the north shore. Word came, while I was away, that downamong the islands our enemy had been mounting cannon. It lookedas if our plan had leaked, as if, indeed, there were good chance ofour being blown out of water the first day of our journey. So, before the army started, I was to take D'ri and eleven others, withfour boats, and go down to reconnoitre. 

We got away before sundown that day, and, as dark came, werepassing the southwest corner of Wolf Island. I was leading thelittle fleet, and got ashore, intending to creep along the edge andrejoin them at the foot of the island. I had a cow-bell, mutedwith cork, and was to clang it for a signal in case of need. Well, I was a bit more reckless that night than ever I had been. BeforeI had gone twenty rods I warned them to flee and leave me. I hearda move in the brush, and was backing off, when a light flashed onme, and I felt the touch of a bayonet. Then quickly I saw therewas no help for me, and gave the signal, for I was walled in. Well, I am not going to tell the story of my capture. My sabrecould serve me well, but, heavens! it was no magic wand such as onemay read of in the story-books. I knew then it would serve me bestin the scabbard. There were few words and no fighting in theceremony. I gave up, and let them bind my arms. In two hours theyhad me in jail, I knew not where. In the morning they let me senda note to Lord Ronley, who was now barely two days out of his owntrouble. A week passed; I was to be tried for a spy, and sawclearly the end of it all. Suddenly, a morning when my hopes weregone, I heard the voice of his Lordship in the little corridor. Akeeper came with him to the door of my cell, and opened it. 

"The doctor, " said he. 

"Well, well, old fellow, " said Ronley, clapping me on the shoulder, "you are ill, I hear. "

"Really, I do not wish to alarm you, " I said, smiling, "but--but itdoes look serious. "

He asked me to show my tongue, and I did so. 

"Cheer up, " said he, presently; "I have brought you this pill. Itis an excellent remedy. "

He had taken from his pocket a brown pill of the size of a largepea, and sat rolling it in his palm. Had he brought me poison?

"I suppose it is better than--"

He shot a glance at me as if to command silence, then he put thepill in my palm. I saw it was of brown tissue rolled tightly. 

"Don't take it now, " said he; "too soon after breakfast. Wait halfan hour. A cup of water, " he added, turning to the guard, who leftus for a moment. 

He leaned to my ear and whispered:--

"Remember, " said he, "2 is _a_, and 3 is _b_, and so on. Becareful until the guard changes. "

He handed me a small watch as he was leaving. 

"It may be good company, " he remarked. 

I unrolled the tissue as soon as I was alone. It was covered withthese figures:--

 21-24-6-13-23-6

 21-16-15-10-8-9-21 4-6-13-13 5-16-16-19 22-15-13-16-4-12-6-5 13-10-7-21 20-14-2-13-13 24-10-15-5-16-24 10-15 4-16-19-19-10-5-16-19 3-2-4-12 21-16 24-2-13-13 8-16 19-10-8-9-21 21-16 19-16-2-5 13-6-7-21 200 17-2-4-6-20 21-16 17-2-21-9 13-6-7-21 21-16 19-10-23-6-19 19-10-8-9-21 21-24-6-15-21-26 21-16 21-9-10-4-12-6-21. 

I made out the reading, shortly, as follows:--

 "Twelve to-night cell door unlocked. Lift small window in corridor. Back to wall go right to road. Left two hundred paces to path. Left to river. Right twenty to thicket. "

Having read the figures, I rolled the tissue firmly, and hid it inmy ear. It was a day of some excitement, I remember, for that veryafternoon I was condemned to death. A priest, having heard of myplight, came in that evening, and offered me the good ministry ofthe church. The words, the face, of that simple man, filled mewith a deep tenderness for all who seek in the shadows of thisworld with the lantern of God's mercy. Never, so long as I live, shall an ill word of them go unrebuked in my hearing. He left meat 10. 30, and as he went away, my jailer banged the iron doorwithout locking it. Then I lay down there in the dark, and beganto tell off the time by my heartbeats, allowing forty-five hundredto the hour, and was not far wrong. I thought much of his Lordshipas I waited. To him I had been of some service, but, surely, notenough to explain this tender regard, involving, as it must havedone, bribery and no small degree of peril to himself. My countingover, I tried the door, which swung easily as I put my hand uponit, The little corridor was dark and I could hear no sound save thesnoring of a drunken soldier, committed that day for fighting, asthe turnkey had told me. I found the small window, and slid thesash, and let my boots fall to the ground, then climbing throughand dropping on them. It was a dark night, but I was not long inreaching the road and pacing my way to the path and river. HisLordship and a boatman lay in the thicket waiting for me. 

"This way, " the former whispered, taking my arm and leading me tothe mouth of a little brook, where a boat was tied, the bottommuffled with blankets. I took the stern seat, his Lordship thebow, and we pushed off. The boatman, a big, husky fellow, had beenrowing a long hour when we put into a cove under the high shore ofan island. I could see a moving glow back in the bushes. It swungslowly, like a pendulum of light, with a mighty flit and tumble ofshadows. We tied our boat, climbed the shore, and made slowly forthe light. Nearing it, his Lordship whistled twice, and gotanswer. The lantern was now still; it lighted the side of asoldier in high boots; and suddenly I saw it was D'ri. I caughthis hand, raising it to my lips. We could not speak, either of us. He stepped aside, lifting the lantern. God! there stood Louise. She was all in black, her head bent forward. 

"Dear love!" I cried, grasping her hands, "why--why have you comehere?"

She turned her face away, and spoke slowly, her voice tremblingwith emotion. 

"To give my body to be burned, " said she. 

I turned, lifting my arm to smite the man who had brought me there;but lo! some stronger hand had struck him, some wonder-workingpower of a kind that removes mountains. Lord Ronley was wiping hiseyes. 

"I cannot do this thing, " said he, in a broken voice. "I cannot dothis thing. Take her and go. "

D'ri had turned away to hide his feelings. 

"Take them to your boat, " said his Lordship. 

"Wait a minute, " said D'ri, fixing his lantern. "Judas Priest! Iain't got no stren'th. I 'm all tore t' shoe-strings. "

I took her arm, and we followed D'ri to the landing. Lord Ronleycoming with us. 

"Good-by, " said he, leaning to push us off. "I am a better man forknowing you. Dear girl, you have put all the evil out of me. "

He held a moment to the boat, taking my hand as I came by him. 

"Bell, " said he, "henceforward may there be peace between you andme. "

"And between your country and mine, " I answered. 

And, thank God! the war was soon over, and ever since there hasbeen peace between the two great peoples. I rejoice that even weold men have washed our hearts of bitterness, and that the younghave now more sense of brotherhood. 

Above all price are the words of a wise man, but silence, that isthe great counsellor. In silence wisdom enters the heart andunderstanding puts forth her voice. In the hush of that night rideI grew to manhood; I put away childish things. I saw, or thought Isaw, the two great powers of good and evil. One was love, with thepower of God in it to lift up, to ennoble; the other, love'scounterfeit, a cunning device of the devil, with all his power towreck and destroy, deceiving him that has taken it until he findsat last he has neither gold nor silver, but only base metal hangingas a millstone to his neck. 

At dawn we got ashore on Battle Point. We waited there, Louise andI, while D'ri went away to bring horses. The sun rose clear andwarm; it was like a summer morning, but stiller, for the woods hadlost their songful tenantry. We took the forest road, walkingslowly. Some bugler near us had begun to play the song ofYankee-land. Its phrases travelled like waves in the sea, somehigh-crested, moving with a mighty rush, filling the valleys, mounting the hills, tossing their spray aloft, flooding all theshores of silence. Far and near, the trees were singing in praiseof my native land. 

"Ramon, " said Louise, looking up at me, a sweet and queenly dignityin her face, "I have come to love this country. "

"And you could not have done so much for me unless you had loved--"

She looked up at me quickly, and put her finger to her lips. Mytongue faltered, obeying the command. How sweet and beautiful shewas then, her splendid form erect, the light of her eyes softenedby long lashes! She looked down thoughtfully as she gave thebottom of her gown a shake. 

"Once upon a time, " said she, slowly, as our eyes met again, "therewas a little country that had a cruel king. And he commanded thatnone of all his people should speak until--until--"

She hesitated, stirring the dead leaves with her dainty foot. 

"Until a great mountain had been removed and buried in the sea, "she added in a low tone. 

"Ah, that was hard. "

"Especially for the ladies, " she went on, sighing. "Dieu! theycould only sit and hold their tongues and weep and feel veryfoolish. And the longer they were silent the more they had to say. "

"And those who broke the law?" I inquired. 

"Were condemned to silence for their lives, " she answered. "Come, we are both in danger; let us go. "

A bit farther on we came to a log house where a veteran of the oldwar sat playing his bugle, and a motherly woman bade us sit awhileat the door-step. 

XXVI

D'ri came soon with horses, one the black thoroughbred of Louisewhich had brought her on this errand. We gave them free rein, heading for the chateau. Not far up the woods-pike we met M. DeLambert and the old count. The former was angry, albeit he heldhimself in hand as became a gentleman, save that he was a bit toocool with me. 

"My girl, you have upset us terribly, " said the learned doctor. "Ishould like to be honored with your confidence. "

"And I with your kindness, dear father, " said she, as her tearsbegan falling. "I am much in need of it. "

"She has saved my life, m'sieur, " I said. 

"Then go to your work, " said he, coolly, "and make the most of it. "

"Ah, sir, I had rather--"

"Good-by, " said Louise, giving me her hand. 

"Au revoir, " I said quickly, and wheeled my horse and rode away. 

The boats were ready. The army was waiting for the order, nowexpected any moment, to move. General Brown had not been at hisquarters for a day. 

"Judas Priest!" said D'ri, when we were alone together, "thet airgal 'd go through fire an' water fer you. "

"You 're mistaken, " I said. 

"No, I hain't nuther, " said he. "Ef I be, I 'm a reg'larout-an'-out fool, hand over fist. "

He whittled a moment thoughtfully. 

"Ain' no use talkin', " he added, "I can tell a hoss from ajack-rabbit any day. "

"Her father does not like me, " I suggested. 

"Don't hev to, " said D'ri, calmly. 

He cut a deep slash in the stick he held, then added: "Don't makeno odds ner no diff'rence one way er t' other. I did n't like th'measles, but I hed t' hev 'em. "

"He'll never permit a marriage with me, " I said. 

"'T ain't nec'sary, " he declared soberly. "In this 'ere countrydon' tek only tew t' mek a bargain. One o' the blessin's o'liberty. "

He squinted up at the sky, delivering his confidence in slowlymeasured phrases, to wit; "Wouldn't give ten cents fer no man 'at'll give up a gal 'less he 'd orter--not fer nuthin' ner nobody. "

I was called out of bed at cockcrow in the morning. The baronessand a footman were at the door. 

"Ah, my captain, there is trouble, " she whispered. "M. De Lamberthas taken his daughters. They are going back to Paris, bag andbaggage. Left in the evening. "

"By what road?"

"The turnpike militaire. "

"Thanks, and good morning, " I said. "I shall overhaul them. "

I called D'ri, and bade him feed the horses quickly. I went to seeGeneral Brown, but he and Wilkinson were on the latter's gig, halfa mile out in the harbor. I scribbled a note to thefarmer-general, and, leaving it, ran to the stables. Our horseswere soon ready, and D'ri and I were off a bit after daylight, urging up hill and down at a swift gallop, and making the forestring with hoof-beats. Far beyond the chateau we slackened pace andwent along leisurely. Soon we passed the town where they had putup overnight, and could see the tracks of horse and coach-wheel. D'ri got off and examined them presently. 

"Purty fresh, " he remarked. "Can't be more 'n five mild er sofurther on. "

We rode awhile in silence. 

"How ye goin' t' tackle 'em?" he inquired presently. 

"Going to stop them somehow, " said I, "and get a littleinformation. "

"An' mebbe a gal?" he suggested. 

"Maybe a gal. "

"Don' care s' long as ye dew th' talkin'. I can rassle er fight, but my talk in a rumpus ain' fit fer no woman t' hear, thet 'ssart'in. "

We overtook the coach at a village, near ten o'clock. 

D'ri rushed on ahead of them, wheeling with drawn sabre. Thedriver pulled rein, stopping quickly. M. De Lambert was on theseat beside him. I came alongside. 

"Robbers!" said M. De Lambert, "What do you mean?"

The young ladies and Brovel were looking out of the door, Louisepale and troubled. 

"No harm to any, m'sieur, " I answered. "Put up your pistol. "

I opened the coach door. M. De Lambert, hissing with anger, leapedto the road. I knew he would shoot me, and was making ready toclose with him, when I heard a rustle of silk, and saw Louisebetween us, her tall form erect, her eyes forceful and commanding. She stepped quickly to her father. 

"Let me have it!" said she, taking the pistol from his hand. Sheflung it above the heads of some village folk who had gathered nearus. 

"Why do you stop us?" she whispered, turning to me. 

"So you may choose between him and me, " I answered. 

"Then I leave all for you, " said she, coming quickly to my side. 

[Illustration: "Then I leave all for you. "]

The villagers began to cheer, and old D'ri flung his hat in theair, shouting, "Hurrah fer love an' freedom!"

"An' the United States of Ameriky, " some one added. 

"She is my daughter, " said M. De Lambert, with anger, as he came upto me. "I may command her, and I shall seek the aid of the law assoon as I find a magistrate. "

"But see that you find him before we find a minister, " I said. 

"The dominie! Here he is, " said some one near us. 

"Marry them, " said another. "It is Captain Bell of the army, abrave and honorable man. "

Does not true love, wherever seen, spread its own quality andprosper by the sympathy it commands? Louise turned to the goodman, taking his hand. 

"Come, " said she, "there is no time to lose. "

The minister came to our help. He could not resist her appeal, sosweetly spoken. There, under an elm by the wayside, with somescore of witnesses, including Louison and the young Comte deBrovel, who came out of the coach and stood near, he made us manand wife. We were never so happy as when we stood there hand inhand, that sunny morning, and heard the prayer for God's blessing, and felt a mighty uplift in our hearts. As to my sweetheart, therewas never such a glow in her cheeks, such a light in her largeeyes, such a grace in her figure. 

"Dear sister, " said Louison, kissing her, "I wish I were as happy. "

"And you shall be as soon as you get to Paris, " said the youngcount. 

"Oh, dear, I can hardly wait!" said the merry-hearted girl, lookingproudly at her new lover. 

"I admire your pluck, my young man, " said M. De Lambert, as weshook hands. "You Americans are a great people. I surrender; I amnot going to be foolish. Turn your horses, " said he, motioning tothe driver. "We shall go back at once. "

I helped Louise into the coach with her sister and the Comte deBrovel. D'ri and I rode on behind them, the village folk cheeringand waving their hats, "Ye done it skilful, " said D'ri, smiling. "Whut'd I tell ye?"

I made no answer, being too full of happiness at the moment. 

"Tell ye one thing, Ray, " he went on soberly: "ef a boy an' a galloves one 'nother, an' he has any grit in 'im, can't nuthin' keep'em apart long. "

He straightened the mane of his horse, and then added:--

"Ner they can't nuthin' conquer 'em. "

Soon after two o'clock we turned in at the chateau. 

We were a merry company at luncheon, the doctor drinking our healthand happiness with sublime resignation. But I had to hurryback--that was the worst of it all. Louise walked with me to thebig gate, where were D'ri and the horses. We stopped a moment onthe way. 

"Again?" she whispered, her sweet face on my shoulder. "Yes, andas often as you like. No more now--there is D'ri. Remember, sweetheart, I shall look and pray for you day and night. "

XXVII

Sooner or later all things come to an end, including wars andhistories, --a God's mercy!--and even the lives of such lucky men asI. All things, did I say? Well, what wonder, for am I not writingof youth and far delights with a hand trembling of infirmity? Allthings save one, I meant to say, and that is love, the immortalvine, with its root in the green earth, that weathers every storm, and "groweth not old, " and climbs to paradise; and who eats of itsfruit has in him ever a thought of heaven--a hope immortal asitself. 

This book of my life ends on a bright morning in the summer of '17, at the new home of James Donatianus Le Ray, Comte de Chaumont, thechateau having burned the year before. 

President Monroe is coming on the woods-pike, and veterans aredrawn up in line to meet him. Here are men who fought at Chippewaand Lundy's Lane and Lake Erie and Chrysler's Farm, and here aresome old chaps who fought long before at Plattsburg andTiconderoga. Joseph Bonaparte, the ex-king of Spain, so like hismighty brother at St. Helena, is passing the line. He stepsproudly, in ruffles and green velvet. Gondolas with liveriedgondoliers, and filled with fair women, are floating on the stilllake, now rich with shadow-pictures of wood and sky and rocky shore. 

A burst of melody rings in the great harp of the woodland. In thattrumpet peal, it seems, a million voices sing:--

 Hail, Columbia, happy land!

Slowly the line begins to limp along. There are wooden legs andcrutches and empty sleeves in that column. D'ri goes limping infront, his right leg gone at the knee since our last charge. Draped around him is that old battle-flag of the _Lawrence_. Imarch beside him, with only this long seam across my check to showthat I had been with him that bloody day at Chrysler's. We moveslowly over a green field to the edge of the forest. There, in thecool shadow, are ladies in white, and long tables set for a feast. My dear wife, loved of all and more beautiful than ever, comes tomeet us. 

"Sweetheart, " she whispers, "I was never so proud to be your wife. "

"And an American, " I suggest, kissing her. 

"And an American, " she answers. 

A bugle sounds; the cavalcade is coming. 

"The President!" they cry, and we all begin cheering. 

He leads the escort on a black horse, a fine figure in militarycoat and white trousers, his cocked hat in hand, a smile lightinghis face. The count receives him and speaks our welcome. President Monroe looks down the war-scarred line a moment. Hiseyes fill with tears, and then he speaks to us. 

"Sons of the woodsmen, " says he, concluding his remarks, "you shalllive in the history of a greater land than that we now behold ordream of, and in the gratitude of generations yet unborn, long, long after we are turned to dust. "

And then we all sing loudly with full hearts:

 O land I love!--thy acres sown With sweat and blood and shattered bone-- God's grain, that ever doth increase The goodly harvest of his peace. 

THE END

[Transcriber's note - the following material is the Lilypond(www. Lilypond. Org) source for the song found earlier in thise-book. Search for the word "roundelay". Thanks to DaveMaddock for its preparation. ]

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text = \lyrics { Oh, hap -- py is th' mil -- ler who lives by him -- self! As th' wheel goes round, he gath -- ers in 'is wealth, One hand on the hop -- per and the oth -- er on the bag; As the wheel goes round, he cries out, "Grab!" Oh, ain't you a lit -- tle bit a -- shamed o' this, Oh, ain't you a lit -- tle bit a -- sham'd o' this, Oh, ain't you a lit -- tle bit a -- sham'd o' this -- To stay all night for one sweet kiss "Oh, etc. "}

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