The King's Warrant Part 17

[Ill.u.s.tration: Headpiece to Chapter VI]

CHAPTER VI.

The month of July was drawing to an end, and the hot sun was glaring down on the parched earth with an almost tropical heat. Even in the dark recesses of the woods, where only here and there a ray could penetrate the thick foliage, there was a sultry closeness that seemed to overpower the wayfarer, instead of his being refreshed by a grateful shade. Look at those two men yonder, one stretched at full length at the foot of a pine-tree, the other kneeling by his side, and bending over him, both apparently exhausted with fatigue. From their thin hands and cheeks, bronzed as they are, one may well believe that want of food has helped to reduce them to their sorry plight, whilst, as a climax to their sufferings, one of them has been lamed by a snake bite, to which the other is applying some large leaves just gathered near at hand.

"'Tis hard upon us that it should come to this, just as we had got within a few miles of our journey's end," said the man who was hurt.

"Listen! There is the firing again--a regular volley--and cannon too.

They are attacking Ticonderoga, that's certain, just as they did a twelvemonth ago."

Here the speaker gave a groan, but not from pain.

"To think, monsieur," he added, "that you should be here, tending poor Boulanger, as if he were your equal, when you might have been striking a blow yonder for your dear France."

"It is only a pity, my good fellow," replied Isidore, "that I am not a red skin, so that I might find out the right sort of plant to cure this abominable bite and put you on your legs again."

"Never mind me, I beseech you, monsieur," said the Canadian, faintly; "I shall do well enough, I daresay. Only go and make your way to the fort--it cannot be many miles off--and then perhaps you can come and help me later when the enemy are beaten off."

"That I will not," was the reply; "I will die here with you rather than leave you alone."

There was in truth no mere sentiment in the words. Bravely indeed had Isidore borne up for many a long week; but fatigue and privation had told upon him far more than on the more seasoned frame of his companion, and with the misfortune that had befallen the latter, the strong hopes that had sustained him gave way, and he felt that he had no longer strength enough to proceed further.

"To-morrow," said he, with an attempt at an encouraging smile, "to-morrow I shall perhaps be able to carry you."

"To-morrow. Alas!" murmured Boulanger, turning away his face to hide his emotion. Then suddenly he raised himself, and pointed to a clump of undergrowth a few yards off. "Look!" whispered he, "a red skin!"

Isidore started to his feet, and levelled his rifle, but instantly threw it down, and stepping forward cried aloud, "What! my old friend White Eagle of Louisburg! Never was any one more welcome. Make haste and look to my poor comrade."

Without a word the Indian knelt down and examined the bite. Then he strode away, but soon returned with a handful of simples, which he carefully bound round the wounded limb.

"Not rattlesnake," said he quietly, "he will not die."

"I could have told you that, friend," said Boulanger, "but when a man's life depends on his walking on a bit with a leg as big as a bison's, it might just as well have been a rattlesnake for that matter, to say nothing of having had no food but a raw partridge between two of us for some days past."

The Indian opened his pouch and placed before them his little stock of food, of which they eagerly partook. Whilst they were thus engaged he sat a little way apart, to all appearance wholly unconcerned. As soon, however, as the provisions were demolished he arose, and addressing himself to Isidore, said, "Let the young brave follow me. The Canadian must stay here till you can send him help."

"Not a step do I go without him," replied Isidore, firmly. "If he stays here, I stay here too."

For a moment the expression on the chief's face seemed to bode no good, but it pa.s.sed away, and after a short pause he set to work without a word, and in a few minutes had cut down a dozen branches from the nearest trees, and wound them into a rude litter. Then silently taking Boulanger up, and laying him upon it as if he had been a mere child, he took hold of one end of the litter, and signed to Isidore to take the other. He did so, and they at once set out with it, the savage threading the way through the dense forest with the most marvellous dexterity, and at a pace with which Isidore found it no easy matter to keep up. Refreshed as he had been by the food he had taken, and buoyed up as he now was by fresh hope on Boulanger's account as well as his own, he nevertheless felt that a march of any great length would be beyond his strength. Perhaps the Indian noticed this, for he presently slackened his pace.

"I hope we have done right to trust this fellow," Isidore said.

"There is nothing to fear," replied Boulanger. "If he had meant mischief our scalps would long ago have been hanging by the side of those others he has at his belt."

All this while they were gradually edging away from the sound of the firing, which could now only be heard at a remote distance on their right.

The Indian slackened his pace still more, and seemed to be listening eagerly as if for some expected sound. Suddenly he stopped, and the litter having been deposited on the ground, he turned to Isidore, saying, "White Eagle has finished his task." At the same moment he raised his rifle and discharged it in the air, and before the astonished wayfarers could utter a word in reply, he had darted into the thick wood and disappeared.

"It beats me altogether," said Boulanger; "he has brought us ever so far away from the fort, and yet I can't think why he should start off like that. He belongs to one of the Algonquin tribes, and they used to be allies of ours. Hush! There is some one not far off."

"Qui vive?" shouted a voice from the underwood near them.

"French! Long live King Louis!" cried Isidore, in reply.

The usual challenge followed, and shortly afterwards a French officer cautiously emerged from the brushwood, followed by a couple of his men.

He seemed not a little astonished on discovering the number and condition of the supposed enemy, and roughly demanded who they were, and whence they came.

"Well, I suppose," replied Isidore, with a grim smile, "I must not feel insulted if my friend de Montenac fails to recognise in such a scarecrow his old comrade de Beaujardin."

"De Beaujardin!" exclaimed the officer, amazed and apparently horrified. "For Heaven's sake, how came you in this pitiable state?

Stop, not a word," he added, "you are in no condition for talking now.

Quick, my men, bring the wounded man along." Then taking Isidore's arm he led him away, followed by the soldiers, who at once took Boulanger under their charge. In a short time they reached an open s.p.a.ce in the forest, where to his great joy Isidore found a considerable body of French soldiers regularly encamped. De Montenac, however, would listen to no questions until the wayfarers had been, not only well fed, but furnished with some better covering than the rags that hung about them.

The short Canadian twilight was gone, and night had come on, as Isidore related to his friend as much of his story as it seemed necessary to tell him. He concluded thus:--

"They kept us at Fort Duquesne all the winter, possibly not knowing exactly what to do with me, and a couple of months ago sent us off in charge of two burly New England militiamen, though I never knew what was our intended destination. These British are always boasting that one Englishman is a match for three Frenchmen, so I suppose they thought that two must be quite enough to guard a couple of miserable half-starved creatures like Boulanger and myself. They had not even taken the trouble to tie our hands, but simply made us go on in front.

During the second day's march I noticed that they had both taken too much to drink, so just as we were going down a steep hill, at a signal we had preconcerted we dropped down right in front of them, and over our backs they went like a shot. Long before they could scramble up we had got hold of their muskets, and they were rather obliged than otherwise by our letting them decamp without giving them each a bullet by way of souvenir. Thanks to Boulanger's knowledge of his craft we have arrived here at last, though it has been no easy matter, I can a.s.sure you."

"I quite believe that, judging from your appearance," replied de Montenac laughing; "but I must now go my rounds, and after that you shall hear what news there is with us."

He was absent much longer than was required merely to visit the pickets. Isidore's practised ears indeed told him that there had been an alarm of some kind, and a shot had been fired in the wood. At last de Montenac made his appearance.

"The strangest thing has just now happened," said he. "My men caught a spy. He had managed to pa.s.s the sentinels, when one of them saw the fellow creeping away among the bushes, and as he did not answer or stop, the man shot him dead. I found on him a note of our strength, to say nothing of some English guineas, so the rascal fully deserved a rope instead of a bullet, but in one of his pockets I came upon this."

Here de Montenac handed to Isidore a sheet of paper, the writing on which ran as follows:--

"To all whom it may concern.

"This is to certify that the person designated in a royal warrant as Isidore Marquis de Beaujardin, otherwise known as G.o.defroid, confined here during the royal pleasure, is released from further detention, and the authorities, whether civil or military, are required to permit him to pa.s.s freely.

"(Signed) DE VALRICOUR,

"Colonel Commandant of the Fort of Sorel."

Isidore sprang to his feet. "Where is the man?" he gasped out.

"You can see him; he lies dead not a hundred yards off." In a couple of minutes they had reached the spot, and Isidore no sooner beheld the upturned face of the dead man then he exclaimed, "Just Heaven! it is Jasmin."

As soon as he had recovered from the excitement into which this discovery had thrown him, Isidore acquainted his friend with the more private details of his story. "I must start at once for Sorel," said he; "I scarcely dare to hope it, but it may be that my unhappy wife was or is still detained there, and if so, with Heaven's blessing I may see her again. I shall indeed be thankful if my Uncle de Valricour has been her gaoler."

"Then you can march with us, at least a part of the way," said do Montenac. "Listen! there it goes." As he spoke, an explosion like a peal of thunder was heard in the distance. "De Bourlemaque has evacuated Fort Ticonderoga and blown it up," added he. "We have been stationed here to guard against a flank movement and to keep open the road to Crown Point, on which we are to fall back."

"What! retreat without a fight!" exclaimed Isidore.