Chapter 6

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

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

"And I miss much pleasure and mayhap a duel with the marquis," I said, laughing; "but I beg you to proceed with your talk. I have learned 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 Le Ray, 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 knew they were English; you cannot mistake them."

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

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

"Yes," said she, smiling, "afraid he wouldn't. They were a good-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 turned suddenly and fled into the fields."

I fled, too,--perhaps as suddenly as the Britishers,--to save myself 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 had started upstairs, a candelabrum in his hand. Following him were the count and Mr. Parish, supporting the general between them. The able soldier had overrated his capacity. All had risen to go to their rooms. Of a sudden we were startled by a loud rap on the front door. A servant opened it, and immediately I heard the familiar 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 boots muddy, for it had been raining. Before he could speak I had my arms around him, and he sank to his knees in my embrace. He was breathing heavily.

"Tired out--thet's whut's the matter," he muttered, leaning over on one 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 him in 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' so he 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 with a detail of five men mounted and three days' rations, and, if possible, capture the prisoner who escaped early this morning, making a thorough search of the woods in Jefferson County. He has information of value to the enemy, and I regard his death or capture of high and immediate importance. I am informed that the young desperado who murdered my Lord of Pickford in the forest below Clayton June 29, escaping, although badly wounded, is lying at the country-seat of the Baroness de Ferre, a Frenchwoman, at Leraysville, Jefferson County, New York. It would gratify me if you 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 es God--'fore daylight, mebbe. But I can't fight er dew nothin' till I '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. The butler brought a pair of slippers and a dry coat, while I drew off the boots of my good friend. Then I gave him my arm as he limped to the kitchen beside me. The baroness and I sat near him as he ate.

"Go upstairs and call the gentlemen," said she to the butler, "Do not make any disturbance, but say I should like to speak with them in the dining room."

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

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

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

"The goose! The geese!" said the baroness, thoughtfully. "I do not 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 away to-morrow."

"Neck's broke with hunger," said D'ri. "Never threw no vittles 'n my 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 was broken?"

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 was rapidly 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' mebbe spile yer house 'n' furnicher," said D'ri. "'T ain't decent er 't ain't nice. We 'd better mek tracks an' put a mild er tew 'twixt us 'n' here 'fore we hev any trouble. 'T ain't a-goin' t' be no Sunday 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 on us, efter court martial."

"I shall not permit you to go," said the baroness. "They may be here now, about the house in the dark. They would shoot you, they would stab you, they would cause you to die as you went. No, I shall permit you not to go, There are four of them? Very well, we shall fight here, we shall conquer. We have a general, a count, a millionnaire, a marquis, a lawyer, an astronomer, a scout, and," she added, patting me on the shoulder, "_le brave capitaine_! I have 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," said the 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 any minute. Give us guns, 'n' we 'll sock it to 'em."

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

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

"Ici! they have come!" said she, in a loud whisper. "There are not four; there are many."

I took my detail of six men above-stairs. Each had a strip of lumber we had found in the shop, and each carefully raised a window, waiting the signal. I knew my peril, but I was never so cool in my life. If I had been wiser, possibly I should have felt it the more. The horsemen promptly deployed, covering every side of the mansion. They stood close, mounted, pistol and sabre ready. Suddenly I gave the signal. Then each of us thrust out the strip of lumber stealthily, prodding the big drab cones on every side. Hornets and wasps, a great swarm of them, sprang thick as seeds from the hand of a sower. It was my part to unhouse a colony of the long, white-faced hornets. Goaded by the ruin of their nests, they saw the nodding heads below them, and darted at man and horse like a night of arrows. They put their hot spurs into flank and face and neck. I saw them strike and fall; they do hit hard, those big-winged _Vespae_. It was terrible, the swift charge of that winged battalion of the air. I heard howls of pain below me, and the 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 was all evidence that they understood him.

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

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

"Whut! Been on the back o' one o' 'em hosses?" said D'ri, telling of it a long time after. "'D ruther o' been shet up 'n a barrel with a lot o' cats 'n' rolled downhill. Good deal better fer my health, 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' er nobody when we led 'em up t' the house--nut one on 'em."

Only one Britisher was brought down by our bullets, and he had been the mark of D'ri: with him a rifle was never a plaything. Five others lay writhing in the grass, bereft of horse, deserted by their comrades. The smudges were ready, and the nets. D'ri and I put on the latter and ran out, placing a smudge row on every side of the Hermitage. The winged fighters were quickly driven away. Of the helpless enemy one had staggered off in the brush; the others lay groaning, their faces lumpy and one-sided. A big sergeant had a nose of the look and diameter of a goose-egg; one carried a cheek as large and protuberant as the jowl of a porker's head; and one had ears that stuck out like a puffed bladder. They were helpless. We disarmed them and brought them in, doing all we could for their comfort with blue clay and bruised plantain. It was hard on them, I have often thought, but it saved an ugly fight among ladies, and, no doubt, many lives. I know, if they had taken us, D'ri and I would never have got back.

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

X

The shooting and shouting and the tramp of horse and man had roused everybody in the big house. Even the general came down to know what was the matter. The young ladies came, pale and frightened, but in faultless attire. I put an armed guard by the prisoners at the door, under command of D'ri. Then I had them bare the feet of the four Britishers, knowing they could not run bootless in the brush. We organized a convoy,--the general and I,--and prepared to start for the garrison. We kept the smudges going, for now and then 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 with them air willy-come-bobs." He meant wasps.

I had had no opportunity for more than a word with the young ladies. I hoped it might come when I went in for a hasty breakfast with the baroness, the count, the general, and Mr. Parish. As we were 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 the brook. It is my emerald. I cannot reach it."

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

"If she will have the kindness to take me there," I said to the hostess, 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 will recover it for you."

It pleased and flattered me, the strategy of this wonderful young creature. She led me, with dainty steps, through a dewy garden walk into the trail.

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

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

"My! but you have a ready tongue," said she. "It is with me a pleasure to listen. You are going away? You shall not return--perhaps?"

She was trying to look very gay and indifferent, but in her voice I could detect a note of trouble. The flame of passion, quenched for a 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 I have 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 desperate things--you may need all your valor. The count and the baroness--they may send us back to France."

"Which will please you," I remarked.

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

She held in her fingers a flashing emerald on a tiny circlet of gold. Before I could answer she had laid it in my hard palm and shut 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 I was not quick enough. Before I could speak she had turned away and was running. I called to her, but she did not turn or seem to hear me. She and my opportunity were gone.

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

"Do not forget," said the baroness, holding my hand, "you are always welcome in my house. I hope, ma foi! that you will never find happiness until you return."

The young ladies came not to the step where we were, but stood by the count waving adieux. Louison had a merry smile and a pretty word 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 to remain at the Hermitage, having sent to the chateau for a squad of his armed retainers. They were to defend the house, if, by chance, the British should renew their attack. Mr. Parish and his footman and the general went with us, the former driving. D'ri and I rode on behind as the coach went off at a gallop.

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

"Parish," said the general, rising on stiffened legs, "I like your company 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 hung doggedly to his saddle.

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

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

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

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

XI

It was, indeed, tougher business than we had yet known--a dash into the 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 troop of forty, under my command. We were to rescue some prisoners in a lockup on the other side. They were to be shot in the morning, and our mission therefore admitted of no delay. Our horses had been put aboard a brig at midnight, and soon after the noon mess we dropped down the lake, going into a deep, wooded cove south of the Grenadier Island. There we lay waiting for nightfall. A big wind was howling over the woods at sunset, and the dark came on its wings an hour ahead of time. The night was black and the lake noisy when we got under way, bound for a flatboat ferry. Our skipper, it turned out, had little knowledge of those waters. He had shortened sail, and said he was not afraid of the weather. The wind, out of the southeast, came harder as it drove us on. Before we knew it, the whole kit and boodle of us were in a devil of a shakeup there in the broad water. D'ri and I were down among the horses and near being trampled under in the roll. We tried to put about then, but the great gusts of wind made us lower sail and drop anchor in a hurry. Soon the horses were all in a tumble and one on top of the other. We had to jump from back to back to save ourselves. It was no pretty business, I can tell you, to get to the stairway. D'ri was stripped of a boot-leg, and I was cut in the 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 me say there is no such remedy for a proud spirit. Bullets are much easier to put up with and keep a civil tongue in one's head. That lower 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 to fetlock--those that lived, for some of them, I could see, were being trampled to death. How many I never knew, for suddenly we hit a reef there in the storm and the black night. I knew we had drifted to the north shore, and as the sea began to wash over us it was every man for himself. The brig went up and down like a sledge-hammer, and at every blow her sides were cracking and caving. She keeled over suddenly, and was emptied of horse and man. A big wave flung me far among the floundering horses. My fingers caught in a wet mane; I clung desperately between crowding flanks. Then a big wave went over us. I hung on, coming up astride my capture. He swam vigorously, his nose high, blowing like a trumpet. I thought we were in for a time of it, and had very little hope for any landing, save in kingdom come. Every minute I was head under in the wash, and the roaring filled me with that mighty terror of the windfall. But, on my word, there is no captain like a good horse in bad water. Suddenly I felt him hit the bottom and go forward on his knees. Then he reared up, and began to jump in the sand. A big wave washed him down again. He fell on his side in a shallow, but rose and ran wearily over a soft beach. In the blackness around me I could see nothing. A branch whipped me in the face, and I ducked. I was not quick enough; it was like fencing in the dark. A big bough hit me, raking the withers 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 lie still, for I had begun to know of my bruises. In a few minutes I took off my boots and emptied them, and wrung my blouse, and lay back, cursing my ill luck.

But that year of 1813 had the kick of ill fortune in it for every mother's son of us there in the North country. I have ever noticed that war goes in waves of success or failure; If we had had Brown or Scott to lead us that year, instead of Wilkinson, I believe it had had a better history. Here was I in the enemy's country. God knew where, or how, or when I should come out of it. I thought of D'ri and how it had gone with him in that hell of waters. I knew it would be hard to drown him. We were so near shore, if he had missed the rocks I felt sure he would come out safely. I thought of Louison and Louise, and wondered if ever I should see them again. Their faces shone upon me there in the windy darkness, and one as brightly as the other. Afterwhiles I drew my wet blouse over me and went asleep, shivering.