The Story of Tonty Part 19

All eyes on the Rock followed him. He shone through the trees, a splendid figure in the gold and white uniform of France, laid aside for years but resumed on this great occasion.

When he came up to Barbe he stopped and folded his arms, saying whimsically,--

"Mademoiselle, I have not the experience to know how one should approach his betrothed. I never was married before."

"It is my case, also, monsieur," replied Barbe.

"How do you like Fort St. Louis?" proceeded Tonty.

"I am enchanted with it."

"You delight me when you say that. During the last four years I have not made an improvement about the land or in any way strengthened this position without thinking, Mademoiselle Cavelier may sometime approve of this. We are finding a new way of heating our houses with underground flues made of stone and mortar."

"That must be agreeable, monsieur."

"We often have hunting parties from the Rock. This country is full of game."

"It is pleasant to amuse one's self, monsieur."

Tonty had many a time seen the silent courtship of the Illinois. He thought now of those motionless figures sitting side by side under a shelter of rushes or bark from morning till night without exchanging a word.

"Mademoiselle, I hope this marriage is agreeable to you?"

"Monsieur de Tonty," exclaimed Barbe, "I have simply been flung at your head to suit the convenience of my relatives."

"Was that distasteful to you?" he wistfully inquired.

"I am not fit for a bride. No preparation has been made for me."

"I thought of making some preparation myself," confessed Tonty. "I got a web of brocaded silk from France several years ago."

"To be clothed like a princess by one's bridegroom," said Barbe, wringing her gown skirt and twisting folds of it in her fingers. "That might be submitted to. But I could not wear the web of brocade around me like a blanket."

"There are fifty needlewomen on the Rock who can make it in a day, mademoiselle."

"And in short, monsieur, to be betrothed in the morning and married the same day is what no girl will submit to!"

Tonty, in the prime of his manhood and his might as a lover was too imposing a figure for her to face; she missed seeing his swarthy pallor as he answered,--

"I understand from all this, mademoiselle, that you care nothing for me.

I have felt betrothed to you ever since I declared myself to Monsieur de la Salle at Fort Frontenac. How your pretty dreaming of the Rock of St.

Louis and your homesick cry for this place did pierce me! I said, 'She shall be my wife, and I will bring home everything that can be obtained for her. That small face shall be heart's treasure to me. Its eyes will watch for me over the Rock.' On our journey here, many a night I took my blanket and lay beside your tent, thanking the saints for the sweet privilege of bringing home my bride. Mademoiselle," said Tonty, trembling, "I will kill any other man who dares approach you. Yet, mademoiselle, I could not annoy you by the least grief! Oh, teach a frontiersman what to say to please a woman!"

"Monsieur de Tonty," panted Barbe. "You please me too well, indeed! It was necessary to come to an understanding. You should not make me say,--for I am ashamed to tell,--how long I have adored you!"

As Tonty's quick Italian blood mounted from extreme anguish to extreme rapture, he laughed with a sob.

Fifty needlewomen on the Rock made in a day a gown of the web of brocaded silk. The fortress was full of preparation for evening festivity. Hunters went out and brought in game, and Indians carried up fish, new corn, and honey from wild bee trees. All the tables which the dwellings afforded were ranged in two rows at opposite sides of the place of arms, and decorated with festoons of ferns and cedar, and such late flowers as exploring children could find.

Some urchins ascended the Rock with an offering of thick-lobed p.r.i.c.kly cactus which grew plentifully in the sand. The Demoiselle Bellefontaine labored from place to place, helping her husband to make this the most celebrated fete ever attempted in Fort St. Louis.

As twilight settled--and it slowly settled--on the summit, roast venison, buffalo steaks, and the odor of innumerable dishes scented the air. Many candles pinned to the branches of trees like vast candelabra, glittered through the dusk. Crows sat on the rocks below and gabbled of the corn they had that day stolen from lazy Indian women.

There was no need of chapel or bell in a temple fortress. All the inhabitants of the Rock stood as witnesses. Colin brought Barbe from the dwelling with the greater part of the web of brocaded silk dragged in grandeur behind her. Tonty kissed her hand and led her before the priests. When the ceremony ended a salute was fired.

The Illinois town could hear singing on the Rock and see that stronghold glittering as if it had been carried by torches. Music of violin and horn, laughter, dancing, and gay voices in repartee sounded on there through half the hours of the night.

FOOTNOTES:

[23] "The joyous French held b.a.l.l.s, gay suppers, and wine parties on the Rock."--Old History of Illinois.

V.

THE UNDESPAIRING NORMAN.

The morning star yet shone and the river valley was drenched with half frosty dew, and filled with silver mist when the Abbe Cavelier and his party descended to their canoes and set off up the river. They had made their farewells the night before, but Tonty and Greysolon du Lhut appeared, Tonty accompanying them down the descent. He came up with a bound before the boat was off, thundered at Bellefontaine's door, and pulled that sleepy officer into the open air, calling at his ear,--

"What fellow is this in the Abbe's party who kept out of my sight until he carried his load but now to the canoe?"

"You must mean Teissier, Monsieur de Tonty. He has lain ailing in the storehouse."

"Look,--yonder he goes."

Tonty made Bellefontaine lean over the eastern earthwork, but even the boat was blurred upon the river.

"That was Jolycoeur," declared Tonty, "whom Monsieur de la Salle promised me he would never take into his service again. That fellow tried to poison Monsieur de la Salle at Fort Frontenac."

"Monsieur de Tonty," remonstrated the subordinate, "I know him well. He was here a month. He told me he was enlisted at St. Domingo, while Monsieur de la Salle lay in a fever, to replace men who deserted. He is a pilot and his name is Teissier."

"Whatever his real name may be we had him here on the Rock before you came, and he was called Jolycoeur."

"At any rate," said Du Lhut, "his being of Abbe Cavelier's company argues that he hath done La Salle no late harm."

Tonty thought about the matter while light grew in the sky, but dismissed it when the priest of Fort St. Louis summoned his great family to matins. On such pleasant mornings they were chanted in the open air.

The sun rose, drawing filaments from the ma.s.s of vapor like a spinner, and every shred disappeared while the eye watched it. Preparations went forward for breakfast, while children's and birds' voices already chirped above and below the steep ascent.

One urchin brought Tonty a paper, saying it was Monsieur Joutel's, the young man who slept in the storehouse and was that morning gone from the fort.

"Did he tell you to give it to me?" inquired Tonty.

"Monsieur," complained the lad, "he pinned it in the cap of my large brother and left order it was to be given to you after two days. But my large brother hath this morning pinned it in my cap, and it may work me harm. Besides, I desire to amuse myself by the river, and if I lost Monsieur Joutel's paper I should get whipped."

"I commend you," laughed Tonty, as he took the packet. "You must have no secrets from your commandant."