Part 8

"Yes," said the governor. "He comes direct from Master Juggins, recommended to me for use in the plight I find myself in."

"I will help the Englishman," agreed Ta-wan-ne-ars eagerly.

He smiled at me.

"This Englishman is honest. He is kind. If he fights, I will aid him."

"Do you see?" whispered Colden in my ear. "You have saved an Indian from ridicule. In his estimation that is a greater service than rescue from the stake."

"But you know nothing of the cause I am enlisting you in," protested the governor.

"That matters little," said Ta-wan-ne-ars composedly. "If you and this Englishman and Colden are in it, it is an honest cause. What say you, Corlaer?"

"It vill pe goodt enough for me," declared the Dutchman solemnly.

The governor laughed.

"My friends and I do thank you for the compliment you do us, Ta-wan-ne-ars. But I must lay our case before you, for we seek your counsel. Do you know that Andrew Murray is landed today and that he hath secured the consent of the Lords of Trade in London to the suspension of our law against the exporting of trade-goods to Canada?"

Both the Indian and Corlaer were startled from their customary stoical attitudes.

"Yes," continued the governor, "Murray landed this morning, together with a French officer, the Chevalier de Veulle, who----"

He stopped at sight of the passion in the Seneca's face. But 'twas Corlaer who spoke first.

"That is fery stranche news, gofenor, for on der frontier there is talk that an enfoy is coming to deliver a message to der tribes at Jagara from der King of France. Joncaire is calling a grandt council to meetd in der Summer. All der Indians from beyondt der Lakes and der West vill come."

"Strange news!" repeated the governor. "You may well say so! Murray overrides our law; Joncaire sets out to build a stone fort upon our soil at Jagara; the French King sends an officer, experienced on the frontier, with a special message for a grand council of the tribes.

"All these three events come simultaneously. 'Tis impossible that accident so disposed them. Here we have the first indication of the culmination of the plot. Aye, 'tis graver than I had supposed."

Ta-wan-ne-ars laid down the unopened letter from Juggins upon the table.

"Let some other read this," he said. "But it serves no purpose. This Englishman and Ta-wan-ne-ars are brothers. Corlaer, too, will take the Englishman into his friendship--not because he carried this writing across the sea, but because he is a man to be trusted. So much is to be read in his face. And now, Ga-en-gwa-ra-go, I would ask that Ta-wan-ne-ars may retire. What you have told me has clouded my heart with hatred, and I may not think straight."

His right arm swept up in the gesture of farewell, and the door closed upon his bronzed back.

"What hath happened to irk him so?" inquired the governor in surprize.

"Idt was this de Veulle who ran away with der dotter of his uncle, Do-ne-ho-ga-weh," replied Corlaer, stirred again from his habitual silence.

"I remember," interposed Colden. "'Twas some four years ago. I remember having seen the maid at a council at Albany. She was called Ga-ha-no,[6] a pretty child and wondrous dainty for an Indian."

[6] Hanging Flower.

Corlaer seemed to ponder momentarily.

"I haf been many years with der Indians, gofenor; but nefer didt I see redt people lofe as we do. They know not what passion is. But Ta-wan-ne-ars was different. If he learnedt nothing else from her missionaries he learnedt to lofe der white man's way."

"'Tis a sad story," commented the governor. "Is it certain de Veulle took her?"

"He didt not take her. She ran away with him."

"The chief will not attempt to take revenge here?"

Corlaer smiled.

"He will wait many years, if he must, to refenge himself in his own way."

"I wonder what became of her," I said. "'Tis only some three years since de Veulle appeared in Paris."

Corlaer shrugged his shoulders.

"Suppose you findt der Doom Trail andt come to La Vierge du Bois. Maybe then you know."

"That is exactly what we wish to do, Corlaer!" exclaimed the Governor.

"You don't want much, gofernor," replied the big man dryly.

"Do you think it can not be done?"

Corlaer reflected, ponderous as a sleepy moose.

"Idt has not been done."

"Does that necessarily mean it never will be done?"

"No, but----"

"But what?"

"It will take much time andt money--andt then all depends upon der Indians."

"What Indians?"

The governor was extremely patient with the mental processes of the frontiersman.

"Der Six Nations."

"Why do you specify them?"

Again Corlaer was buried in thought. And I saw that his eyes, which ordinarily twinkled, now smoldered with a slow-burning fire.

"If we findt der Trail, gofernor, what then? We haf der Keepers. They are a strong bandt. We must fight them. You can not sendt soldiers. That wouldt be war. We must fight them with Indians. Andt what Indians couldt you get but der Iroquois?"

"Can we get the Iroquois?"

"I do not know," confessed Corlaer. "But if you get them, you smash der Trail."

"I see," said the governor. "Yes, there is every reason why the Iroquois should join us. Look you, Corlaer, this is the obvious plan of the French. With Murray's aid they will cram their magazines with trade-goods this Summer. They will make an impressive showing for the tribes that attend Joncaire's council. They will push ahead the building of the fort at Jagara. Once that is finished, they will have a curb on the necks of the Iroquois. They will be able to hold up the fleets of fur canoes from the Upper Lakes that now pass down to our post at Oswego on the Onondaga's River. In two seasons they will have wrested the trade entirely from our hands, and then if they are ready they can strike with musket and scalping-knife.

"And who, think you, will bear the brunt of the first blow? Who but the Iroquois, whom the French have dreaded since Champlain's day?"

"True, only too true," murmured Colden.

"Yes," assented Corlaer; "you haf der right of it, gofernor. What is your plan?"

"I shall send this young man"--he laid his hand on my arm--"with you and Ta-wan-ne-ars to spy out the ground at Jagara, to search the wilderness for signs of the Trail, to work upon the Iroquois in our interest. Master Ormerod knows naught of forest warfare, but he hath had experience with the French and he knows de Veulle of old."

"When do we start?" replied Corlaer simply.

"So soon as may be. I must see Ta-wan-ne-ars again and concert certain matters with Master Ormerod. But within the week you must leave for Albany. You need spare no expense, Peter. My own funds are pledged to this, and Master Juggins, too, is offering his aid."

Corlaer deliberately donned his cap of fur.

"It will not be money, but friendship andt hate will serfe your turn, gofernor," he said.

"You have not yet read the letter from Juggins," I reminded him as he walked toward the door.

"So I haf not," he admitted, and took the letter from me and slipped it inside his leather shirt.

"Will you have it read?" asked Colden.

"No, der young man is all right. Ta-wan-ne-ars has chudged him."

With that he was gone, and a sense of bewilderment stole over me. It seemed incredible that either of the two odd characters of the wilderness with whom I had talked could really have existed.

But Governor Burnet lost no time in doubts. He paced the room, rubbing his hands together with satisfaction.

"We have done well, Colden. We could not have done better. Master Ormerod, you were indeed fortunate in going to the help of the Seneca. You earned, not only his friendship, but that of Peter as well. No letter from Juggins could have served you so handily. Peter hath the mind of an Indian for all his white face, and he looks at things as they do. He likes you."

"I can scarce believe in my good fortune," I replied. "'Tis a change for the better, and a marked one, believe me, your Excellency."

"You are to be congratulated," he returned heartily. "But I must ask you to excuse me. I have much work to do. Pray grant me the pleasure of your company for dinner tomorrow. Colden, will you show Master Ormerod out?"

It was dusk in the streets, a soft purple dusk that became velvet darkness under the trees; and I felt in no humor to return to the drab company which the tavern offered. I was lifted out of myself by a mood of exaltation. After years which had been starred With humiliation, penury, discontent, I saw opening before me the golden path of adventure.

I drank in the tree smells and the odor of the ground underfoot, and longed for the great forests I had traced on the governor's map. And so I wandered at hazard until I found myself in an alley leading down to the waterfront--and heard of a sudden the thud of flying feet. I spun around in time to see a monstrous bulk come sailing through the air, knife and tomahawk whirling in either hand.

"I'll kill yer, varmint," howled an ugly voice. "I'll cut yer heart out and skin yer and take yer scalp!"

I dodged the knife and grappled the wrist which swung the tomahawk, twisting myself behind him so as to hinder his attack. But he was far stronger than I and slung me back in front of him as if I were a sack of chaffed wheat. I still clung to his tomahawk hand and contrived to knock up another blow of his knife, but he must have disemboweled me in the next vicious sweep of the blade.

"_Hah-yah-yah-eeee-eee-ee-e!_"

The ferocious yell made my blood run cold. It startled my assailant even more. His muscles slackened just long enough for me to leap clear of him.

"----!" he snarled.

He drew one arm back to hurl his knife at me, but something whirred past my shoulder and his head jerked violently to one side. There was a sharp clang, and he fled precipitately, shouting curses.

Against the near-by house-wall a small, bright object glimmered through the shadows, and I stooped to snatch it up--only to leap instantly erect as a voice spoke at my elbow.

"My brother was in danger," said the voice quietly. "Ta-wan-ne-ars saw the Red Death follow Ormerod from the Governor's House, so Ta-wan-ne-ars followed him."

The tall figure of the Seneca was scarcely discernible in the gloom.

"Was it Bolling?" I asked.

He raised the shining object from the ground. It was his tomahawk, and curled about the blade was a lock of greasy red hair. He pointed to it.

"That time Ta-wan-ne-ars missed," he said grimly. "Some day the light will be better--and Ta-wan-ne-ars will not miss."

"Although you missed, you saved my life," I answered warmly. "'Tis an obligation I shall not forget."

He laid his fingers to his lips.

"Hark," he said.

I listened, and from the water-front came the thunderous voice of the bellman.

"Half-after-eight-o'clock, and a fine night with a south-west breeze. And all householders are cautioned they shall set out their lanthorns, and if any nightwalker shall injure the same he shall be fined twenty pounds for each offense and jailed in the Bridewell.

"And his Excellency the governor is pleased to proclaim that whereas divers persons have mocked, assailed or sought to humiliate Indian visitors to the city, the governor has made a rule that such persons, upon apprehension, shall be set in the stocks for twelve hours the first time and upon the second offense shall be publicly whipped at the cart's tail along the Broad-Way."

Ta-wan-ne-ars replaced his tomahawk in its sheath.

"There is no talk of obligations between brothers," he said. "Come, we will walk together to your tavern."

XI

TA-WAN-NE-ARS UNDERSTANDS

"No, we will go to Murray's tavern," I said. "I will ask him if he thinks he can commit assassination here in the town as he does in the forest."

"Good," rejoined Ta-wan-ne-ars impassively. "I will accompany my brother there."

I remembered that de Veulle lodged at Cawston's, and hesitated.

"Let my brother Ormerod be at ease," added the Indian. "Ta-wan-ne-ars has mastered his hatred."

"Very well," I replied. "I shall be glad of your company, but we must not be tempted to violence. There are reasons for my meekness."

"It would not be courteous for Ta-wan-ne-ars to slay his enemy in New York when he is the guest of Ga-en-gwa-ra-go," returned the Seneca as he walked lightly beside me.

"I, too, hate your enemy," I said.

He was silent for as much as ten paces.

"My brother means de Veulle?" he asked.

"Yes; I once crossed swords with him."

"And he lives! Did he wound my brother?"

I recounted briefly the circumstances of the duel at the Toison d'Or. He made no comment until I had finished.

"I am glad my brother spared him," he said then. "For Ta-wan-ne-ars has often prayed to Ha-wen-ne-yu, the Great Spirit, to give him the life of this man who lives as though he were one of the fiends of the Ga-go-sa.[1]

[1] False Faces.

"It is a bond between us that we have the same enemy. We did not need such a bond, Ormerod, but it is a proof that we were meant to be brothers."

At the next corner we met the bellman, trotting heavily.

"A citizen tells me he hath heard a horrid screech," he panted. "Do you know aught----"

"Yes," I told him. "I was attacked by a desperado named Bolling----"

"God save us, I knew there would be mischief with that villain in our midst!" interrupted the bellman.

"There would have been sore mischief done had not this Indian, who is visiting the governor, come to my aid," I rejoined.

"Did you slay the man?" asked the bellman apprehensively.

"No; he fled."

"'Tis a savage rogue, and a deadly. Gadslife, my master, but you had a fortunate escape. I will run to the watch house and give an alarm. Aye, we should have a file of soldiers from the fort. This is no easy task that is set for us. I will----"

His threats and adjurations died away in the distance, as he hurried on, his regular duties forgotten.

"What think you hath become of Bolling?" I asked Ta-wan-ne-ars.

"He is beyond the city limits, brother. There are no palisades for him to pass, and flight will be easy. He must have had a swift horse in readiness, for he would have been obliged to flee equally had he slain you."

"Will they catch him?"

Ta-wan-ne-ars laughed briefly, a trick he had which I afterward discovered to be rare, although not unknown, amongst the Indians.

"Those who are charged with his pursuit? No, brother; as well might the beaver pursue the wild pigeon. He will be buried in the wilderness tomorrow. But some day Ta-wan-ne-ars will come up with him--or perhaps it may be you, Ormerod. That will be a bad day for the Red Death."

At Cawston's we looked in vain for Murray or any of his party in the taproom and ordinary, so without a word to the servants we ascended the stairs to the upper floor. In the hall I halted momentarily, considering which door to knock upon, when the puzzle was solved by the opening of the one by which we stood.

My Lady Green Cloak appeared, and she started back in amazement, tinged with fear, at sight of me and the stalwart, half-naked figure of the Seneca, arms folded across his painted chest, his eagle's-feather reaching almost to the ceiling.

I bowed to her.

"Good evening, Mistress Murray," I said. "I am come with my friend for a word with your father."

"He is engaged," she answered quickly.

"That may be, but I must speak with him on a matter of much importance."

"What is that, sir!"

She began to recover her self-possession.

"What interest have you in common!" she added.

"None, save it be to dislike the other," I replied. "But I am obliged to ask your father for the second time if he condones assassination in the dark."

Her eyes widened with horror, then darkened with stony anger.

"Sir, you are monstrous impertinent!" she exclaimed. "How dare you suggest such a thing!"

"Because it occurred a quarter-hour past."

"And because you are assailed by some foot-pad in a disreputable part of the town, is that a reason for you to charge Master Murray with assassination!" she demanded with high contempt.

"Oh, I have proof," I said airily.

But my anger grew with hers. It maddened me that this girl, who I knew was honest, should be arrayed against me, should hold for me the contempt of a clean woman for a man she deemed a traitor.

"Look you, Mistress Murray," I went on haughtily. "The watch are now searching for your father's emissary. The garrison are to be turned out. Any moment Master Murray is like to receive a summons to go before the governor. He has overplayed his hand this time. He----"

The door behind her opened again, and Murray himself came out.

"I thought I heard voices---- Ah, Master Juggins----"

"Ormerod," I interrupted suavely.

His eyebrows expressed polite astonishment.

"To be sure. Forgive my stupidity. It hath gone so far as that already, hath it?"

"It hath gone so far as attempted assassination--for the second time," I retorted.

"Assassination! Tut, tut," he rebuked me. "Master Ormerod, you use strong language. And who in this little town of ours would seek to murder a gentleman new-landed like yourself?"

Ta-wan-ne-ars stepped to the front.

"Does Murray know this scalp?"

He permitted an end of the lock of Bolling's hair to show through his clinched fingers.

Marjory shrank back in terror. Murray's face became convulsed with passion.

"'Sdeath!" he swore. "If Bolling is dead by this savage's hand I shall know the wherefore of it! What? Do the Iroquois take scalps within the city!"

Ta-wan-ne-ars laughed, and slowly opened his fist to reveal the single lock of hair.

"Ta-wan-ne-ars only takes the scalps of honorable warriors," he said in his smooth, low-pitched voice. "But the Red Death escaped tonight by the width of these hairs. Does Murray think Ga-en-gwa-ra-go would have been angry with Ta-wan-ne-ars if the tomahawk had struck true?"

Murray wiped beads of perspiration from his face.

"So 'twas Bolling!" he muttered. "Curse the knave! What hath he done?"

"No more than attempted to murder me, sir--as I have attempted to tell you," I answered ironically.

Marjory came forward, hands clasped in expostulation.

"It isn't so! It can't be so! Tell him he lies, sir!" she pleaded with Murray.

He put her gently to one side.

"Peace, peace, my dear," he said. "You do not understand."

"But Bolling is the man you called 'Red Jack!'" she expostulated. "You presented me to him. You told him to be sure to remember my face. You jested about his hair and his evil looks."

"The man is likewise called 'The Red Death,' Mistress Murray," I said.

She turned to me, tears in her eyes.

"Oh, sir, pray you, do not bait me!" she cried. "I would not believe you before, but that is the man's hair, beyond a doubt."

"And what if it is?" said Murray kindly, drawing her to him with one arm. "Is that any reason why you should express shame?"

"But he was one of your people, sir. You told me----"

"Tut, tut, my dear Marjory. You are new to this New World of ours. The frontier is not like Scotland. We must work with what tools we find. I say it to my sorrow"--and he said it furthermore without even the twitch of an eyelid--"I am compelled occasionally to consort with men I might prefer to do without."

He gave his attention once more to me.

"In a word, Master Ormerod, what hath happened that you approach me in so hostile a spirit?"

"In a word, Master Murray," I replied, "your man Bolling, or 'The Red Death,' as he seems to be known in these parts, tried to kill me with knife and hatchet this evening."

"I am constrained to believe you," he said with an appearance of much sorrow, "but I can not hold myself responsible, sir."

"It may be that the governor will not be so indulgent," I commented sarcastically.

Murray drew himself erect.

"Sir," he replied, "as it happens, Bolling quarreled with me this afternoon in the presence of half a dozen well-known citizens of the town, and I dismissed him from my service."

"Pardon me," I said with a laugh, "if I express some----"

"Do you step within," he responded with celerity. "I shall be glad if you will satisfy yourself by questioning witnesses of the dispute. Marjory, will you----"

"I will stay," she said positively.

He shrugged his shoulders and stood aside. I motioned to Marjory, and she reëntered first. I walked next, and the Seneca followed me, one hand resting on his knife-hilt.

Murray shut the door behind us, and I found myself in a large room, sufficiently lighted by candles. Five or six men, who had been talking at a table, looked up with interest as we came in. One of them was de Veulle, and I felt rather than saw the massive frame of Ta-wan-ne-ars gather itself together exactly as does the wildcat when he sights his quarry.

The others I did not know. Murray introduced them by names which meant nothing to me, but later Ta-wan-ne-ars told me they were respectable merchants identified with the faction in the province who were hostile to Governor Burnet, and all were for the closest trade relations with Canada.

These men greeted us civilly enough, and gave most of their attention to Ta-wan-ne-ars. De Veulle acknowledged the meeting by a smile that was tinged with mockery. Our clash came when Murray turned to me, after recounting my errand, and said:

"Your companion is evidently a chief, Master Ormerod. Will you identify him?"

Before I could say anything Ta-wan-ne-ars responded for himself.

"I am Ta-wan-ne-ars, of the Clan of the Wolf, war-chief of the Senecas, and nephew to Do-ne-ho-ga-weh, the Guardian of the Western Door of the Long House."

He spoke directly to de Veulle, and the Frenchman's eyes shifted from his level glance.

"Must we have an Indian present?" he muttered. "This is a white man's affair."

"As it happens, this Indian saved my life from a white man's knife," I replied quickly. "He is my brother. I would rather have him here than a woman-stealer."

But I had reckoned without Marjory. She took the situation out of my hands.

"Sir," she said, "you seem to delight in slandering gentlemen who are not disloyal to their faiths. I beseech you, have done. 'Tis a sorry business, and gains naught for you. Get forward with what brought you here."

I marked the relief that shone in de Veulle's eyes. I marked, too, the penetrating glance which Ta-wan-ne-ars bent upon her face. For myself, although I felt sick at heart, I said nothing. There was nothing which I could say.

I turned to Murray again.

"This conversation must be painful to us," I said. "Let us make an end to it. Bolling attacked me, as you know. My friend and brother here saved me and drove him away. We have a lock of Bolling's hair in proof of the attempt.

"The watch are now searching for Bolling. The governor will shortly be apprised. 'Tis in your interest to do what you can to clear yourself of responsibility for so dastardly a crime."

One of the merchants at the table, a very decent-appearing man, soberly dressed and with much good sense in his face, caught me up.

"'Tis not strange that you should have come to Master Murray after such an attempt as you mention, sir," he began in conciliatory fashion. "But fortunately we were present this afternoon when Master Murray dismissed the man from his employ, in consequence of evidence of his dishonesty and misdealing during Master Murray's absence. Bolling left in a great rage, vowing he would put Master Murray in trouble."

"Aye," spoke up a second merchant, "and sure, the knave must have attacked you hoping 'twould be brought against Master Murray."

"Not to speak of the fact he was in great need of funds, Master Murray having refused to grant certain demands he made," suggested a third.

I bowed.

"Gentlemen," I said, "I am satisfied--that Master Murray hath a stout case. There is no more need be said."