Prisoners Of Chance The Story Of What Befell Geoffrey Benteen B
Chapter 16
WE CHANGE OUR COURSE
My attempt to recross the river proved difficult. I had lost no small amount of blood from my wound, which, besides weakening me, had so stiffened my right shoulder as to render any strain upon the oars a constant pain. Yet the excitement nerved me to the effort, and, crushing down weakness by sheer force of will, I drove the heavy boat straight through the low, overhanging bushes on to the soft mud of the bank. Before I could arise to my feet Madame was standing beside the dripping prow, her great eyes staring at the blood stains discoloring my doublet.
"You are hurt!" she exclaimed, her lips white with apprehension. "I beg you tell me, is it a serious wound?"
"Nay, the merest scratch, Madame," I answered hastily, for it added to my pain to mark such anxiety in her face. "Not worthy your thought, but I will ask you to call the others at once, and have them load everything into the boat without delay. I will await you here, as I find myself weak from loss of blood."
She stood gazing intently at me, as if she read my most secret thoughts; and no doubt my face was sufficiently white to alarm her, yet I smiled back into her eyes, and she turned away, running lightly up the bank. Nor was she long away, or noisy in her mission, scarcely a minute having elapsed before the three came trooping down to the water-side, their hands laden with camp utensils, De Noyan wide awake enough, and filled with intense interest in my adventures, but the Puritan yet cock-eyed from sleep, stumbling as he walked like a man in a dream.
"Take the oars, both of you," I said quietly, totally ignoring the question in the eyes of the Chevalier. "I have tasted a sword point, and am weakened from loss of blood. Pull up the stream, and be swift and quiet about it."
"Hast thou been smitten of the Philistine, friend Benteen?" loudly questioned Cairnes, stumbling noisily across the seats.
"Time enough to tell my story when we are beyond danger," I returned tartly, annoyed by his awkwardness. "If you utter another word before we are around yonder headland, I will have De Noyan hoist you overboard."
I saw him glance askance at the unconscious Chevalier as if mentally calculating his ability to perform the feat. Then his glinting gray eyes swept the sodden shore as though vaguely wondering what it was we fled from in such unseemly haste. Nor did I long withdraw my own anxious gaze from that north bank, until we rounded the bend in the stream, and were safely removed from view of any one below. I was able to mark no sign of life along the ridge, my faith reviving that the Spanish sailors yet slept soundly, while as to their irate commander, I had trussed him with a thoroughness which left me confident. Feeling reassured I finally yielded to Eloise's entreaties, laying bare my breast and permitting Madame to wash away the clotted blood and apply such bandages as might easily be procured. She was extremely gentle about it; but I marvelled somewhat at the trembling of her white fingers and the pallor of her face, for it was not a bad wound, De Noyan hesitating not to make light of it, although he acknowledged it was a strong wrist which drove the tuck in. Anyway, what with the reaction and the loss of blood, I lay back quite spent, telling over briefly those incidents that had occurred to me while they slept.
"And now," I said, addressing the Puritan, who was seated at the bow-oar, where I could see nothing of him except the bobbing of his red crop, "how do you know this stream makes a circuit and approaches the mouth of the Ohio? It beareth a little to the west of north here."
"It was the Spanish captain camping here as I passed down," he answered, speaking abominably through his nose. "They called him Castellane, a little fellow, with pop-eyes, who pretended to light his pipe from my hair. He pointed it out upon a map some black-frocked papist had drawn. It was plain enough to the eye, but 'tis likely they lied, for they were all spawns of Satan."
"True or false," I commented coolly, "we seem likely to find out. I have also heard somewhere--no doubt in the Illinois country--about a northern trend to this stream, and one thing is certain, there is no hope for us otherwise; there can be no running those guard-lines back yonder."
"Do you mean we push on up this river?" broke in De Noyan, who had managed to make something out of our conversation, especially as the Puritan illustrated his knowledge by rudely tracing with a stumped forefinger a map on the board where he sat. "_Sacre_! 'tis the dirtiest red slough ever I navigated. Why not try the other thing? A brush with those gentlemen below would be more to my taste."
"Ay, Master Benteen," boomed Cairnes with pious emphasis, reading the meaning of the other through his French gestures. "Methinks the Lord of Hosts would assuredly strengthen the hearts of His servants for such a fray. How many, friend, do you suppose they number, those unwashed sons of Belial?"
"I can only guess. There were twelve oars in the boat passing us on the lower river, while four others sat with guns in their hands; besides these are the Marquis de Serrato and the Capuchin priest, making a total of eighteen, all of whom we must reckon upon as being fighting men at a pinch."
"Faith, merely enough to make the affair of interest," muttered De Noyan, as I explained my words to him. "Hardly enough even by your count, as the officer nurses a cracked rib, while the priest would prove of small moment when it came to blows. I am for bearing down upon the knaves in sudden onset; it will require but a crack or two ere the villains let us by."
"May the God of Battles place me within fair stroke of that accursed gray-backed emissary of Rome," snorted the Puritan, his red hair erect. "I promise, Master Benteen, to smite as did David at Goliath."
I gazed uneasily about from where I lay at the feet of Madame, only to perceive her eyes resting upon me as if she waited anxiously my decision.
"Do not suppose," she said quickly as our glances met, "that I shall shrink from the peril of encounter. If it is best, you may trust me to do whatsoever may become a daughter of France."
"Nor do we question it, Madame," I returned warmly, noting the unrestrained flash of pride leaping into the careless eyes of her husband at these brave words. "But to invite such conflict in our present condition would be sheer madness. There are only two men among us, for I am but half a man, the rapier thrust has robbed me of so large an amount of blood; nor do we possess fit weapons to wage battle against so well-armed a company as blocks our passage. De Noyan sports his straight sword, which would be well wielded at close quarters; I possess my rifle, with small store of powder and ball, all of which are likely to be needed to save us from starving in this wilderness; while Cairnes here might indeed prove a strong arm with the tuck I brought back with me, yet probably knows nothing of the secrets of thrust and parry. Pish! 'tis not worth thinking about. Pit such an outfit as this against eighteen well-armed men,--for the Marquis can shoot for all his cracked rib, nor do I doubt the fighting qualities of the priest,--and the venture becomes too difficult for parley. Nay," warming up as I noted the hot-headed gallant preparing for speech, "nor is this all we should have to contend with. Above, along the upper river, there are at least three other expeditions of Spanish soldiery. They are warned of De Noyan's escape, already guarding every junction. Suppose we succeeded--which in itself would be a miracle--in cutting our way out from here, could we hope to distance a twelve-oared boat racing against the current, or escape a clash with those others? I know the difference between a bold dash and the utter foolhardiness such a hopeless venture as this would be."
"_Sacre_! you appear strangely over-cautious all at once," and I detected a covert sneer in the Chevalier's low, drawling tone. "The Spaniard's blade must have let out the best of your blood. Were you a soldier, now, instead of a mere forest rover, the odds you mention would only serve to stir you into action."
"Pardon, Monsieur," I said quietly, holding my temper, "it may be I have seen harder service than some who boast loudly their soldiership. It requires more than a gay dress, with some skill in the fencing-schools, to make a soldier in my country, nor do I believe you will ever find me lagging when a proper time comes to strike blows."
"So I supposed until now; yet 'tis evident you would have us continue toiling for weeks against this foul current rather than strike one quick blow, and be free from the mess."
"Nay, Monsieur," my voice coming stern in rebuke of his rashness, "you are wrong. You know perfectly well, De Noyan, I risk my life readily as any man in a good cause. I have ranged the woods since boyhood, long accustomed to border broil and battle--there is scarcely an Indian trail between the Great Lakes and the country of the Creeks I have not followed either in peace or war. I have faced savage foemen in battle, and crossed steel with those of your own school, and although I may wear no glittering gold lace, nor sport a title with which to dazzle the imagination of a girl, yet the man venturing to sneer at my courage, either amid the wilderness, or in the town, makes answer for the speech, whenever I come to my strength again."
"Always at your service, Monsieur," he murmured gently, "with the greatest pleasure."
"Very well then," I went on, barely noting his words, yet marking the look of distress on the face of his young wife, and despising him for it. "Understand this, Monsieur--we make no battle here, whether it suit your hot-brained desires or not. I dragged you from the jaws of death at the request of her who sits in silence yonder. I will never consent that your rashness now draw her into the peril of such a _mêlée_ as the attempt to run that gantlet. Cairnes,"--I turned to face the Puritan, sitting all this time with open mouth listening to our quarrel, yet scarcely comprehending a word that passed,--"this gay French cockerel would throw us against those eighteen men below, to fight our way from here to the Ohio, as if the Spaniards between were so many buzzing mosquitoes, and you are not greatly averse to trying that same experiment."
"It would be a godly and pious service to smite so black and Papist a crew."
"No doubt of that; yet, Master Cairnes, you are scarcely the sort who would involve a lady in such broil, when, if we escaped at first, the chances are we should have wounded to care for, or, perchance, be prisoners borne southward under Spanish guard--a contingency not over-pleasant, I imagine, to a preacher of your faith."
I saw him twist his little eyes as if in petition for guidance, while he ran his hand nervously through his red hair before venturing a reply.
"It must ever be as the Lord wills, friend Benteen," he returned soberly, De Noyan surveying the fellow as he might some strange animal whose ways he did not understand. "I am not one to draw back my hand once upon the plough. Yet I have found you of a level and cool head in matters of judgment, and it is meet we exercise due care over this rare flower of womanhood who shares our dangers. I like not the hard pull up this swift current," he cast anxious eyes at the swirling stream. "It is not clear into what additional peril it may lead, nor do I feel gifted at the oars, now the provisions bid fair to become somewhat scant."
I waited for no more.
"The Puritan sufficiently agrees with me," I announced to De Noyan firmly. "We will pull on up this stream until we learn its true trend, and are beyond Spanish overhauling. It will be best to lose no time in placing a good stretch of water behind us."
During this controversy our boat had drifted against the southern bank, its side softly scraping the mud, its bow entangled amid the roots of an overhanging bush. To my surprise the Chevalier, instead of picking up his oar, grasped a bit of the projecting root, and, sword dangling after him, coolly stepped forth upon dry land.
"You and your cursed canting preacher can do as you please," he announced carelessly, staring down at us, "but if you desire to retain me as one of this interesting party, you will wait until I return."
"Surely, man, you do not propose attacking the Spaniards single-handed? This is sheer madness."
He laughed lightly at the look of consternation on my face, twisting his moustache between his white fingers, his good humor instantly restored.
"Nay, most valiant hunter of game," he returned gayly. "_Le diable_! you appear as horrified as your hellfire friend yonder at sight of a crucifix. _Sacre_! I am not such a fool. I know when the odds are too great, even although I wear a uniform. Still, should I chance to meet obstruction during my ramble, it is not likely I shall run from it without a pass or two. I merely return to our camp, and will be back presently, if naught unpleasant occur."
"Our camp? You deliberately venture your life, and ours as well, from mere bravado?"
"_Bravado_! _Sacre_! you do wrong to use such term. 'T is of far greater moment than that--I seek the curling iron I have just missed from out my toilet-bag. I mind me now I laid it beside the tree while I slept."
Before I could recover speech to stay him, he vanished into the thick cane. It was a difficult task to make the practical-headed old Puritan comprehend the nature of his quest, and when it slowly dawned upon him for what trivial matter the Frenchman undertook so desperate a journey, there came across his seamed and withered face so odd a look of complete disgust, I laughed outright in my nervousness, discovering some slight response in the amused eyes or Madame. It proved a good hour before the Chevalier returned, somewhat bedraggled of attire, yet with his prize dangling at the belt, and dropped wearily upon a seat within the boat.
"'Tis time to move," he answered, responding to my look of inquiry. "They were at the camp when I left; and appeared in ill humor, from what little I could understand of their Spanish mouthings. They had just released the noble Marquis from where you trussed him upon the rock, and his language has given me a headache."