I realized, watching her prepare our scant meal, that she was bravely endeavoring to appear gay, while her heart remained heavy from memory of her father. Whether this assumed levity deceived De Noyan I cannot say—he was of a volatile nature, easily swayed by either smile or tear, and instantly joined responsive to her seeming mood. I left them thus, engaged in pleasant badinage, while seeking some spot where I might bathe my heated face. It was no small hardship to watch them thus together.

Seated upon the grass, lingering over the rude repast, we discussed our situation, seeking to outline vaguely our future plans. De Noyan was for keeping close against the western bank as we progressed northward. He had hunted amid the marshes, and remembered sufficiently the formation of the shore-line to be aware that for several leagues it remained thickly skirted by small islands, while numerous bayous offered secure hiding-places. In this choice I acquiesced, urging also that the downward flow of the current would sweep with greater force along the opposite shore; besides which the search-boat, just passing us on the way up-stream, would be more likely to return along the eastern bank.

"There is no reason," I continued, "why we should delay departure longer. We can keep the boat beneath the shadows of the bank, and even if the Dons stop to make camp, they would hardly do so without building a fire, which would afford ample warning to sheer out into the stream. If they return along this shore—as is unlikely—we should hear the heavy strokes of their oars before they caught the sound of our lighter ones. I am for embarking at once."

This agreed upon, within a half-hour we were pushing slow passage through the thick cane, soon finding ourselves once again afloat upon the broad water, the prow of our boat turned up-stream, while here and there a dim star winked down upon us between scurrying clouds.



CHAPTER XI

A NIGHT IN THE BOAT

This was one of many nights we passed in the narrow confines of the boat during our flight northward. Yet its incidents remain in memory with peculiar distinctness of detail. I do not recall exactly how it occurred, but my duty during that first night chanced to place me at the after oar. In consequence I sat directly facing Madame de Noyan, operating the rudder bar. It was so warm, merely a delicate, fragrant breeze blowing from the south, she had felt no necessity for drawing up her hood, and the soft light of distant stars, glimmering along the bosom of the river, reflected back into her face, illumining it until I could almost note the changing expression within her dark eyes.

It was a sadder, graver face than the one I associated with her girlhood. Yet I could scarce forbear an impression that it was now a sweeter one, more womanly, faint lines beginning to mark its satin smoothness with impress of sorrow. To my thought a new, higher womanhood had found birth within, during weary days and nights of suspense and suffering. It was yet torture to me constantly beholding these two together, but, as I observed her then, I thanked the good God who had permitted me to be near her in time of trial. In patience I would serve, even though I must suffer. Tears were clinging to her long lashes, and occasionally one would glitter an instant upon her white cheek, as she leaned her face upon one hand, from which the loose sleeve fell away, revealing an arm like chiselled marble. She made no effort at concealing these evidences of emotion, doubtless believing them sufficiently hidden by the gloomy shadows. Nor did she appear to glance at me, keeping her own gaze directly ahead, where the dark, swirling waters merged into the mystery of the North.

We were none of us in talkative mood—although I heard De Noyan, behind me, humming a light French air, as though perfectly free from trouble—and I have no recollection of exchanging a word for more than an hour. We merely continued to pull sturdily against the downward rush of the stream, the deep silence of the night broken only by the dripping of uplifted blades, or the occasional far-off hooting of an owl upon the bank to our left. The pressure of the river's current was scarcely perceptible close against the shore, so we made fair progress. Yet it was hard work, neither of us being accustomed to such exercise, the heavy oars feeling awkward to the hand. The grim uncertainty of the future, coupled with our solitary surroundings, exercised a depressing influence upon the spirits of each, although differing widely in degree, according to our several natures. Undoubtedly this same sense of dreariness led De Noyan to sing, caused me such painful restlessness under that same singing, and left Eloise saddened in her lonely thoughts.

Every occurrence impressed me that night as unusual. Perchance this was because both heart and head were sadly out of tune. Yet, at best, it was a lonesome journey, and remains a grewsome memory, haunting with many a spectre, as weird as the shadows of delirium. The few stars, peeping shyly forth between scurrying black cloud masses, were so far away they merely silvered the cloud edges, leaving them as though carven from granite. The low shore, often within reach of our oar blades, appeared gloomy and inhospitable, the spectral rushes creeping far out upon the water like living things, seeming to grasp after us as the wind swept them, and we glided past in phantom silence. Beyond, like a great black wall, arose higher ground, occasionally jutting into bare bluffs outlined against the lighter sky; again diversified by gaunt dead trees, their fleshless limbs extended upward toward ghostly pillars of vapor ever floating from off the river's surface. Occasionally, jaggedly uneven, close-set trunks of forest growth would appear, spectral in solemn ugliness, a veritable hedge, impenetrable and grim.

If, with a shudder of disgust, I turned away from that lorn, dead line of shore, my eyes swept a waste of waters slipping solemnly past, while farther out, where sky and stream met and mingled in wild riot, the surging river swirled and leaped, its white-capped waves evidencing resistless volume. It was a sight to awe one, that immense mass pouring forth from the upper darkness, flashing an instant beneath the star-gleam, only to disappear, a restless, relentless flood, black, unpitying, impenetrable, mysterious, a savage monster, beyond whose outstretched claws we crept, yet who at any moment might clutch us helpless in a horrible embrace. It was a sight to stun, that brutal flood, gliding ever downward, while, far as eye could see, stretched the same drear expanse of cruel waters.

From out that mystery would suddenly emerge, rolling toward us, as if born of the shadows, some grim apparition, a wildly tossing figure, with gaunt, uplifted arms beating the air, to startle for an instant, then fade from our ken into the dimness below. Well I knew it was only driftwood, the gnarled trunk of uprooted tree made sport with by mad waves, yet more than once I shrank backward, my unstrung nerves tingling, as such shapeless, uncanny thing was hurled past like an arrow. Nor were the noises that broke the silence less fearsome. Bred to the wilderness, I little minded loneliness when in the depths of the backwoods, but this was different. I cared nothing for the honk of wild fowl overhead, nor those sounds of varied animal life borne to us from off the black land; but that strange, dull roar, caused by great logs grinding together in the swirl of the current, and the groaning of bits of undermined shore as they gave way and dropped heavily into the water, racked my nerves.

The peace I found lay in that sweet face, turned partially away, yet appearing fairer than ever beneath the protecting hood, drawn up as the night air grew chill. Whether similar sense of strangeness and timidity rested upon her, I could not determine, yet I believed her thoughts so far away that our present surroundings were no more to her than the vaguest dream. She scarcely stirred during all the hours I watched her; only once did she glance up, to smile as she met my eyes before I could withdraw them from her face. Had she read aright their message, perchance this story might never have been written; yet purer, truer love no man ever gave to woman. We must have continued thus, pulling silently, for hours before De Noyan broke the oppressive silence with impatient speech. Indeed, not the least impressive feature of the grewsome night was his continued stillness.

"Le Diable!" he exclaimed uneasily, shifting in his seat. "If the Styx be more gloomy than this accursed stream, then Jesu pity its voyagers. Never have I put in so miserable a night, to say nothing of a strained back, and a pair of sore hands. What are those black, crawling things yonder? Mon Dieu! I have seen a thousand hideous demons since we left the cane."

I glanced across my shoulder in the direction he pointed, glad enough to hear once again the sound of a voice.

"Only the fire-seared branch of a tree tossed on the current—the night rests heavily upon your nerves."

"Heavily? Parbleu! it has unmanned me with hideous silence, with creeping, ghostly mystery, until I am half mad, scarcely daring to whisper, in fear of my own voice. Eloise, are you there? or have the spectres of this haunted journey flown away with you?"

"Angels or demons, they would have naught of me," she replied in seeming unconsciousness of his mood. "My thoughts, I fear, have been sufficiently sad to accord well with the gloom, only my shadows are within, not without."

"Sacre! mine are all yonder," he exclaimed, indicating with a gesture the vast extent of angry water. "Why should I bear heavy heart, except for brooding phantoms of the night? Life is still mine in all its sweetness. Not that I greatly valued it, to be sure, yet 'tis somewhat better than I once thought, and there is always pleasure left in the world for the young. From whence springs your mood of sadness, Eloise?"

"My thought was with my father."

"'Tis not strange it should be. Yet, it might be better if you dwelt upon the brighter view of our own future. He is at rest; no tears can be of aid. But we can look forward to dreams of happiness. 'Tis my plan to cross the great ocean, seeking better fortune on the Continent. France, they say, has ever a vacant place for a good sword, nor is the king likely to refuse service to a nephew of Bienville. You and I, Eloise, shall yet tread the Paris streets, nor shall we go as beggars."

I marked her quick smile, but thought it not wholly untouched by sadness, as she attempted answer.

"We will hope for the best; yet, Monsieur, we are still deeply buried in the wilderness. Ay! worse—in the country of our enemies. You may not comprehend the full truth of this, but Spain lays claim now to all this great river, with the country bordering it. O'Reilly has already despatched soldiers as high as the mouth of the Ohio, to guard its passage; so there is peril lurking before us, as well as behind."

"O'Reilly has sent soldiers northward? How know you this, Eloise?"

"It was common talk in the town. I saw with my own eyes the departure of one expedition. It was composed of a captain, with twelve soldiers, destined for the Ohio. I have heard that twice since others have been despatched northward, although to what points was unknown."

"The saints defend us! 'tis indeed serious. I supposed the boat which passed contained all the Dons on the upper river, but if this be true we may have to desert the stream, and take to the eastern trail on foot. Sacre! I like it not! What say you, you sphinx of an English borderman? Knew you this all along?"

"It is news to me," I answered soberly. "But if three expeditions have already been despatched north, there is little hope the land routes have been forgotten. Beyond doubt every trail, white or Indian, leading toward French or English settlements, is by now patrolled by the Dons. Nor can we hope to gain passage by surprise. That man-of-war boat will spread far the rumor of your escape, so every Spaniard between here and the Ohio will be on the lookout for our coming."

I imagine the same thought stole into the mind of both, how easily we two, travelling light, might press our way through that scattered line of guard, and attain the upper Ohio; how easily, only for the danger and distress to which so desperate an attempt would expose her. She alone ventured to give the idea utterance.

"Messieurs," she said earnestly, her calm brown eyes uplifted to our faces, "I have been considering this for an hour past. I know you would experience small trouble eluding the Spaniards, or even cutting your way through them, were I not with you. Yet this is not beyond remedy. I had sincerely hoped to prove of service when I usurped the slave's place in the boat; instead, I am an encumbrance, a weakling whom you must protect at the risk of your own lives. Fortunately it is not yet too late to leave you free; it cannot be many miles back to New Orleans, and the current would bear me swiftly downward. I have loyal friends in the town to hide the daughter of Lafreniere, should the Spaniards wage war against a woman, and surely some means would open whereby I might make the shores of France. Perhaps I should be there in advance of you. What say you, Messieurs, to such proposal? Would it not be best?"

The indignant feeling which swept me as I listened to this speech hardly needs dwelling upon. Yet I held my tongue. It was the privilege of De Noyan to make answer.

"Parbleu!" he cried, seemingly forgetful of caution in instant enthusiasm. "You have as good a head as heart, Eloise. Sacre! never before did I realize the treasure in my keeping. You gauge well the wishes of a soldier; 't is not pleasant to one of my blood and training to lurk thus in the shadows like a skulking spy. Bish! nor do I love this toll at the oars—'tis the work of slaves. I would prefer trusting all to the rapier, writing with its point a Frenchman's message of defiance. Holy saints! I am already half inclined to say yes to your proposal; yet Benteen, what word have you to speak regarding this plan?"

"That if she goes back to New Orleans, I make the town in the same boat," I answered shortly, angered by his flippant words and tone. "'Tis a plan not to be seriously considered a moment, Chevalier. If carried out it would merely place Madame de Noyan in the power of Cruel O'Reilly. I doubt if the sacrifice would preserve our worthless lives. She can only return by means of the boat; with that gone, we should be compelled to plunge, unprovisioned, into a trackless wilderness, feeling our way blindly for hundreds of leagues through unknown, savage tribes. If we survived their cruelty we should be crazed with hunger and fatigue long before our eyes were gladdened at sight of the upper Ohio. I do not say such a journey could not be made, but I retain vivid memory of one such trip, nor will I lightly seek another. I imagine, Captain, you have small conception of the horrors of the black forests, when you choose recklessly to plunge into their depths."

"I served against the Creeks," he announced somewhat sullenly.

"So I heard, yet that was mostly boys' play; armored men pitted against naked savages. You would discover different foemen among the mountain tribes to the north and east. Do not suppose I question your courage, but I realize the dangers, as you cannot from your town life, while as to Madame de Noyan, she will be safer here with us than with those black brutes in New Orleans."

"You refuse to be comrade with me then?"

"Ay, if such comradeship involve the desertion of your wife."

"Desertion!" The term stung him. "Sacre! 'tis not a word to be lightly flung in the face of a French cavalier. Did I not already owe you the debt of life, Monsieur, I might endeavor to teach you a lesson in etiquette."

"I permit your overlooking all obligations, if you desire to indulge in such an experiment," I retorted, no wise unwilling. "I am no brawling roisterer, but have never been above giving and receiving blows."

I judged from the glint of his eyes, and the manner in which he juggled his sword hilt, he had grave purpose of backing up his pretty words. I should rather have enjoyed giving the doughty gentleman a sudden bath alongside, had not Madame hastily calmed our hot blood with sober speech other own.

"Hush, Messieurs," she commanded quietly, her eyes upon my face, instantly shaming me. "It is not meet you should quarrel. There are better ways in which to strike blows for me than that. As to my going on with you, or returning alone, that may all be discussed when we make camp again at daylight. Then we will settle the matter coolly, not in the heat of anger. You are both my friends, nor would I awaken between you any cause for controversy."

De Noyan laughed.

"Sacre! 'tis the accursed night got into our blood," he exclaimed. "The very air seems poisoned with horror, while my back aches so with pulling this oar, I would esteem it relief to fight with my best friend. It was hard fortune that the boy Alphonse happened in track of that Spaniard's bullet. With three in the boat there would be some rest from the toll."

"I see solid ground yonder," I said, pointing as I spoke to the shadowy bank ahead. "We might run the boat's nose in, and stretch our cramped limbs on shore. There is little to be gained endeavoring to work with wearied muscles."

"San Juan!" he returned, brightening instantly to the suggestion. "'Tis the first word of good sense reaching my ears this cursed night of folly. Head her in under the shade of yonder bush, Eloise, until I see if I can stand upright once more."



CHAPTER XII

WE LAND AN ODD FISH

After brief respite Madame steered as closely beside the bank as possible, thus avoiding the swift current, yet it was no small task to win our way upward through the lagging hours. More and more frequently tired muscles drove us to the shore for intervals of relaxation. Still, in spite of much time thus lost, we made steady progress, so before morning dawned I was confident many a mile had been placed behind, although the low shore we skirted remained so similar in outline as to afford few landmarks with which to gauge our passage.

De Noyan grew more cheerful toward the end, his sullen mood changing to a gay semblance of reckless abandon. To me, however, he appeared scarcely more engaging in snatches of ribald song, and careless speech, freely interspersed with French oaths and much complaint at unwonted toll, than in his former moody silence; yet his cheerfulness had effect upon Madame, who contrived to rally from her mental depression, becoming in turn a veritable sunburst in the gloom. I experienced a glow of pleasure listening to her merry banter, and, once or twice, to a low-voiced French song, sounding sweetly enough as it echoed back from off the black water.

In spite of such efforts to appear light-hearted, the nature of our work, coupled with the sombre surroundings of the night, rested heavily upon the spirits, and long before morning broke, we had all subsided into disheartening silence, holding grimly to our onward course through sheer force of will. With wearied eyes I marked the slow coming of dawn above that desolation; the faint gray light creeping like some living thing across the swirling waters, leaving more ghastly than before the immense flood sweeping past. It was a sombre sight, yet became more heartsome as crimson light streaked the sky, flashing forth over the wide river, reddening the heaving surface, until the waters blazed like burnished metal, and our blinded eyes could hardly gaze upon it.

We were at this time approaching a vast curve in the shore-line, appearing to the eye as if it might prove the mouth of some important tributary stream. Beyond, perhaps a hundred feet out in the main river, appeared a low island, a mere rock as it fronted us, yet thickly covered by small trees and bushes, growing close to the water's edge. No sign of life was apparent anywhere. The mainland, so far as the sweep of vision extended, bore the same marshy and inhospitable look, and I immediately determined upon the island as the more suitable camping spot.

"Turn the prow of the canoe toward the upper end of that rock, Madame," I said, resuming my place at the oar. "It appears the most promising halting place hereabout, and should afford us excellent vantage of view both up and down the river."

"It will prove vantage of sleep for me," grumbled the Chevalier gruffly. "I take it I should have been resting better had I remained with the Dons."

I noticed the sudden uplifting of his wife's face, and seeing a pained expression upon it, I replied:

"Such words bespeak little appreciation, Monsieur, of our efforts to pluck you from a fate which has befallen your companions. Surely your work is no harder than that of others, while you have more at issue."

He glanced from her face to mine in apparent surprise, but replied readily:

"Those knowing me best, friend Benteen, pay least heed to my words. When I bark I seldom bite, and when I intend biting I waste small time on the bark. But, parbleu! how can I feel life worth living, if it is all toil? There may be those who enjoy such existence, but I discover no pleasure in it. Sacre! I love not hard hands and poor fare, nor will I make pretence of what I do not feel."

We were then two-thirds of the distance between the mainland and the island, in the full sweep of the raging current. It struck us sidelong, with such force as to require all our combined strength to afford the laboring boat headway. Suddenly Eloise startled us with an outcry.

"What is that yonder?" she questioned excitedly, pointing directly up-stream. "It looks the strangest red thing ever I saw on water. I believed it moved but now, as if alive."

Keeping my oar in motion, lest we should drift backward, I made shift to glance across my shoulder in the direction indicated. The river had us completely in its grasp, tossing the light boat in a majestic flood of angry water, whitened by foam, and beaten into waves, where it rounded the rocky edge of the island. Across this tumbling surge streamed the glorious sunlight, gilding each billow into beauty, while in the midst of it, bearing swiftly down toward us, came that strange thing that had so startled Madame. What in the name of nature it might prove to be, I could not hazard—it had the appearance of some queer, shaggy animal, rolled tight into the form of a ball, having fur so radiantly red as to flash and burn in the sunshine. It bobbed crazily about, barely above the surface of the river, like some living creature, while now and then I marked a glimmer of light behind, as if the water was being vigorously churned by some species of swimming apparatus in the monster's tail.

"Stand by with your small sword, De Noyan," I commanded uneasily, "for, hang me if I ever before set eyes on such a creature! Move, quick, and pass me over your oar so you may have both hands free for the onset."

The beast was being swept along rapidly, now appearing to my eyes somewhat whiter on top, although the surrounding red was so glaringly prominent as to obscure everything else. Suddenly the creature gave a kick and whirled over, turning the white expanse directly toward us. At the same moment De Noyan dropped the point of his rapier against the side of the boat, with a loud guffaw.

"May the saints absolve me," he grinned, choking from merriment, "if it's not the red-headedest man ever my eyes looked upon."

Forcing back his laughter, he hailed the swimmer, who, perceiving us for the first time, began sheering off, as if frightened by our presence, and intent upon escape.

"Hold there a moment, Master Red-Cap! If in truth you are not a fish, come on board."

The fellow heard him plainly enough, for I distinguished a muttered English exclamation, but he made no pause in urging a peculiar sidestroke of the arms which threatened to bear him past us like a wild thing.

"Hold your hands!" I roared in English, thinking, perhaps, he had not comprehended the other tongue. "Come in here, sirrah, or, the Lord help you, we 'll turn and run you down."

At sound of these words he ceased his efforts, and turned a peculiar wrinkled face, creased like long-folded parchment, and as yellow, directly toward us. Even at that distance I imagined I could detect a twinkle of delight in the shrewd gray eyes.

"Thy words of greeting are as manna fallen from heaven," boomed a deep, resonant voice, surprising in its volume. "I take heart anew, young man, for surely thou art not the spawn of the scarlet woman, but, verily, one of the chosen people of our own God."

"I fail to grasp your meaning, friend," I retorted, nettled to be held at the oars so long in that current. "We are honest voyagers, glad to be of aid to any one in such distress as you seem to be."

"Nay; I am not especially uncomfortable, unless my tobacco is soaked, and if such disaster hath overtaken me, it shall yet go hard with those blaspheming idolaters who cast me overboard. But thy language is that of modern Israel, so I will join you in the boat. 'Tis the more readily done as I have not tasted food since yesternoon, and possess a hollowness within my physical temple which demandeth attention. The spirit yieldeth to the craving of the flesh."

"Catch hold upon the side," I ordered, as he drew near. "We will have you ashore in a dozen strokes."

The stranger did as I bade him, and it was truly a wondrous sight to observe how his head glowed in the sun as the drops of moisture dried, and brought out the full, ornate color of it. His face had a pinched look, with thousands of little wrinkles leading away from the corners of the wide mouth, and about the narrow, glinting gray eyes. But there was a sly gleam of humor about the expression of it, which, taken in connection with that fiery headpiece, nearly caused me a fit of laughter. I noticed, however, that Madame drew slightly away from his side of the boat, as if close proximity to the fellow were repugnant to her.

"Well, friend," said I, as we drew up in shoal water under lee of the rock, and I noted his short legs and stocky chest, "no doubt you are well water-logged, and a little healthful exercise will help to warm your blood, especially as we dare not light a fire for such purpose. So bend that broad back of yours, and aid us in lifting the boat to cover."

He performed his portion of the work well, bearing with apparent ease fully one-half the burden, while De Noyan and I staggered beneath the remainder, until together we sank the boat well out of sight behind the thick brush.

"And why not a fire?" the stranger questioned abruptly, noticing Eloise spreading forth our stock of provisions on the grass. "It was in hope of thus warming the inner man that I consented to come ashore and companion with you. Are you refugees, fleeing from danger?"

I glanced aside at De Noyan and muttered hastily in French, "It will be best to tell him our story—'tis not likely he will prove an emissary of Spain."

"As you please; he is more of your class than mine," he returned indifferently, and, with a shrug of the shoulders, strolled away.

"You have made fairly correct guess," I said to our new acquaintance; "so we may as well understand each other first as last. We have escaped with our lives from New Orleans, and are now seeking refuge on the Ohio."

He nodded, his shrewd gray eyes fastened intently on my face, his own countenance expressionless.

"Who holdeth New Orleans?" he asked in a tone of interest.

"The Spanish, under O'Reilly."

"'Tis what they told me above, yet I believed they lied. Those with you are French?"

"Ay."

"And you?"

"Of Louisiana birth and English blood; five years I have been a hunter in the Illinois country."

He groaned as though the mention of the word awoke unpleasant memories.

"'Tis an unholy land, no fit abiding place for the elect, as I learned, having passed through its settlements seeking prayerfully to bear an evangel unto that stiff-necked people. Friend, thou hast an honest face, and I will say in confidence I have been ofttimes blessed of the Spirit in the conversion of souls; yet this people laughed at my unctuous speech, making merry regarding that head-covering with which the Almighty chose to adorn his servant. Dost thou know the French settlement on the Kaskaskia?"

"I have been there often."

"Ah! 'tis verily a stronghold of popish superstition. Recall you the humble cabin of Gabriel La Motte, the Huguenot, close by the ravine? It was there I abode in much spiritual and temporal comfort with that godly man, until certain mad roisterers took offence at plain gospel speech, driving me forth into the wilderness, even as Jehovah's prophets of old. Since that hour I have been a wanderer on the face of the earth, finding small comfort in this life; yet Ezekiel Cairnes is merely the poor servant of the Lord, the chief of sinners, and must abide in travail until He cometh."

He cast up his eyes in pious affectation, his lips moving as though he meditated in prayer.

"Then your name is Cairnes?"

"Ezekiel Cairnes, late of the Connecticut colony, and am permitted by the Lord's mercy to write Reverend before my unworthy appellation."

"A Puritan preacher!" I exclaimed in some disgust. "I have heard of your sort before, yet have been spared a meeting until now. Where do you propose going?"

"The Lord leadeth His anointed, young man. Even as Jonah abode in the belly of the whale, so doth the water bear me onward as the Almighty willeth."

His wandering eyes rested thoughtfully upon my companion, now returning toward us, sauntering listlessly along the sandy shore.

"I know not, friend, who you may be, save as you have seen fit to reveal," he said shrewdly. "Yet I would venture a guess as to yonder gayly attired cavalier."

"A guess?" I echoed, taken completely by surprise. "It is small chance you would hit right—what might your guess be?"

"Chevalier Charles de Noyan."

"How know you that?"

He chuckled grimly, evidently well pleased at my astonishment.

"'Tis no work of the evil one, friend. I am but just escaped also from the hands of the Philistines," he explained, becoming angry at the thought, and ducking his red head vehemently. "While in their unhallowed company, a gray-bellied son of Belial questioned me much regarding yonder fine gentleman, ere he waxed exceedingly wroth at my plain speech in matters of the spirit, bidding his jabbering crew of papists to heave me overboard."

"How far away did this occur?" I asked, looking anxiously up the river.

"Oh, mayhap some such matter as twenty leagues," he returned indifferently, his gaze idly following mine. "Let me reflect; it was at the hour for sunset prayer I fell in with their party. I have heard it said this stream hereabout hath a sweep of seven or more miles the hour, and I kept well in the current of it."

"Do you mean you have been swimming since sunset yesterday?"

"Nay, friend; I beg be not over-hasty in conclusions. I merely reposed easily upon my back, with only enough straightening out of the legs to keep my nose fairly up-tilted above the stream. 'T was thus I made the passage with much comfort of body, and relaxation of mind. 'T is no serious trick for one unafraid of the water although it might bring on cramps were I to keep on as far as New Orleans."

I stared at him with an astonishment which for the moment precluded speech. Before I found voice with which to express doubt of his story, Madame called, bidding us join her upon the grass, where our rude meal waited.



CHAPTER XIII

WE GAIN A NEW RECRUIT

There could be no doubt regarding the complete emptiness of the Reverend Ezekiel Cairnes, if the breakfast he devoured from our stock of cold provisions was evidence. I have been commonly blessed with robust appetite, yet where that man found space within his ribs to store away all he ate in that hour remains a mystery. Nothing, except total inability to address him in intelligible language, held De Noyan quiet as our limited supply steadily diminished before the Puritan's onslaught, and long before the latter heaved a sigh of profound satisfaction the gallant soldier had fallen fast asleep. But Madame remained in her place opposite, apparently fascinated by that vivid red crop of hair, now thoroughly dried in the sun, and standing erect above his odd, pear-shaped head. I had whispered in her ear what the fellow claimed for himself, and being a most devout Catholic, and he the first specimen of his class she had ever met, she studied him with no small amount of curiosity and abhorrence.

I can clearly recall the picture, as these two, so widely different, sat facing each other in silence, the golden sunshine checkered over them through an arch of limbs, the broad river shining away to the southward, and De Noyan resting upon his back, with face turned up toward the clear blue sky. The woman, with her soft silken hair smoothed back from the wide, white brow, her intelligent face lighted by eyes of deepest brown, looking, what in truth she was, the aristocratic daughter of a gentleman of France, one whose home had ever been amid refinements of civilization, and whose surroundings those of love and courtesy. Even there, in the heart of that wilderness, the social training of years remained paramount, and she sat silent, toying with untasted food, out of respect to this stranger guest. And he, with shoulders so abnormally broad as to appear deformed, clad in sober Puritan garb, ate serenely on, unconscious of her glances, making use of both his huge hands in the operation, his little gimlet eyes twinkling greedily, his head, oddly resembling a cone, blazing like a fire whenever a ray of sun chanced to fall across it. I noticed he occasionally stole shy glances at her, nor could I wonder, for, in spite of fatigue and exposure, Madame remained a winsome sight, to do the heart of any man good to look upon.

"The Lord God of Hosts be praised; ay! with harps, cymbals, and instruments of many strings, will I give praise unto His holy name," he exclaimed fervently, wiping his wide mouth upon his sleeve, while casting a look of regret over the debris in his front. "Once again hath He abundantly supplied His elect with that which upbuildeth and giveth strength to the flesh. Now my bodily requirements have been duly attended to, it behooves me to minister likewise unto the spiritual, and then seek repose. Friends, will you not both join with me at the throne of grace? It hath been said that I possess much unction in prayer."

"No," I answered, not unwilling to be left alone with Eloise; "you are welcome to put up petitions in our behalf, but this lady is not of your faith, while as for myself, I have known little about such matters since childhood. One thing, however,—if you propose making use of that bull voice of yours, I advise that you select the farther extremity of the island for the scene of your devotions, lest you arouse the Chevalier."

He cast upon me a glance not altogether pleasant, but tramped off through the bushes without reply, and for several moments we heard the sturdy rise and fall of his earnest supplications, frequently interspersed with hearty groans, as of one in all the agony of deep remorse.

"'Tis an odd fish we've hooked out of the stream," I said, turning my head toward the dismal sounds. "Yet he has strong arms, and may be of considerable use, if he will consent to voyage with us."

"I scarcely know what to make of the man," Madame admitted candidly. "He is unlike any I have ever met. Yet I think he may prove honest and of good heart, although his exterior is far from attractive."

"And his appetite hardly suggestive of economy," I added.

The bright look I always loved to see leaped into her clear eyes.

"Have you faith his labor will offset his eating?" she replied, laughing.

"Possibly not; yet it is not labor alone I would select him for. We may have to fight before we attain a place of safety. For that purpose I would rank this fellow highly. Never yet have I met a red-headed man averse to a quarrel. Faith! by that token, this one should be worth a company if we ever come to blows."

"But he is a priest, you told me, a preacher of the Protestants."

"Ay! and the better for it. I have heard my father say the Puritan breed makes the stoutest men-at-arms; that nothing has been found to stiffen a battle-line equal to a good text. Give this fellow a pike, pit him against a boatload of Spanish papists, and, I 'll warrant, he 'll crack more heads than any two of us. Besides, he controls a perfect tornado of a voice, fit to frighten the crew of a frigate on a dark night."

She was sitting, her back pressed against a small tree, her hands clasped lightly about one knee, with dark eves gazing afar where the broad river danced away into the golden sheen.

"Geoffrey Benteen," she asked soberly, never glancing toward me, "is it true you do not desire my return to New Orleans?"

"It is true."

"Would you honestly tell me why?" and she turned her eyes, looking searchingly into mine.

"I have mentioned sufficient reasons," I ventured, resolutely facing her, determined to speak frankly and abide the result. "All I need add is, to my judgment it will prove better for you to remain with your husband."

She glanced aside at him where he lay, the quick blood flushing her clear cheek.

"You do not like him?" the question fell faltering from her lips.

"That I am not prepared to declare. He is changeable, somewhat overbearing in speech, not as sober of mind as I am accustomed to find men, yet it is not true I dislike him. I merely believe that he will do better, be truer to his manhood, with you near him, than with you absent."

"He is French," she explained gently, "by nature of birth different from your race. Besides, he has led a life filled with the dissipation of the town."

"True! for that reason I forbear judging his words and actions by any standard of my own people. Yet this I cannot be blind to, Madame; he is of quick temper, hasty in action, easily influenced by others, and might become careless at times, and under strong temptation, unless some moral firmness hold him in check. You alone possess the power to become his good angel."

She bowed her head, her gaze again far off upon the river, the deepening surge of color rising upon either cheek.

"You cannot be angry," I continued gravely, after pausing vainly for a reply. "Surely I have said no more than you already knew, and I spoke merely in answer to your questioning."

"No, I am not angry. But it is not a pleasant reflection underlying the things mentioned, and I cannot assert your judgment of the Chevalier false. Still I would press you further. Is this your only reason for desiring me to remain?"

"You wish me to answer frankly?"

"Otherwise I should not ask."

I felt the quick flush mount even to my hair, yet gripped my breath, making effort to respond boldly.

"I had other reason. To deny it would be merely uttering a lie to no purpose. Madame de Noyan, we are not strangers—we could never be after that night when we parted beneath the olives of Monsieur Beaujen's garden. You are wife to a chevalier of France; I, a homeless adventurer. Yet I have no higher ambition than to prove of service to you. Whatever I have accomplished has been entirely for your sake, not for his. Now we are together, the daily opportunity to serve you is mine; here I can work for you, perchance die for you, should such sacrifice promise you happiness. But if you decide to go back yonder, directly into danger as desperate as any confronting us to the northward, then I must determine for myself where I can serve you best. Knowing my heart as you must, you can easily judge whether I would plunge deeper into the wilderness with your husband, or return to New Orleans with you. There is a sentence in the Bible about the impossibility of serving two masters, hence I trust I may not be compelled to choose between, until the hour when you are both safe."

She listened silently, and I almost feared I had ventured upon too plain speaking. Yet now, as she turned again toward me, her eyes were moist with tears.

"You are a strange man, Geoffrey Benteen," she said gently, and, I know not how, yet both her hands found way to mine. "I scarcely comprehend your nature, or gauge your purposes—you are so unlike all others I have known. Yet this I am assured; you are of honest heart, and I trust you wholly."

"You will not return to the town?"

"I abide with you, and with my husband." Her voice faltered to that last word, yet she spoke it bravely.

"It will be better so," I assented. "Better for us all."

We slept late, undisturbed, in secure retreat among the trees, the vast river chanting its endless song on either side of us. During the evening meal, partaken of amid the gathering shadows of twilight, our newly discovered friend again evidenced his power as a trencherman.

"Sacre!" ejaculated De Noyan in dismay. "I supposed his breakfast was intended to last the week. We shall need a fleet of boats to provision the fellow if he keep us company long. How is it, friend Benteen, are we to enjoy the pleasure of associating with this human alligator, or do we now part company?"

"That is not yet determined," I replied, smiling at the look of consternation with which he regarded him. "I will sound the man on the subject, while he appears in good humor."

I crossed the narrow plat of grass to where our guest sat facing the remains of his late feast, a look of satisfaction visible upon his withered countenance.

"My good friend," he exclaimed, observing my approach, "there seems an over-preponderance of spices in this cured meat; otherwise it meets my cordial approbation, although your Southern cookery has a peculiarly greasy flavor to one of my taste in food."

"I failed to observe your refraining from any on account of that objection," I retorted, deeply amused by his words. "But if you are completely satisfied, you may be willing to turn a moment to matters of business, and inform us what you propose doing. In brief, will you resume your voyage, or is it your desire to cast your lot with us?"

He meditatively stroked the thin red stubble adorning his chin, contemplating me steadily.

"Doth that which assisteth to nourish and sustain the inner man bid fair to hold out?" he finally questioned in a tone of anxiety. "I have need of sufficient food, both temporal and spiritual, and would not lightly assume any burden of suffering, unless it appear clearly as the will of God."

"I know not how long we can withstand such onslaughts as those you have already made," I returned honestly. "We are fairly well provisioned for present needs, and when farther up the river will feel free to seek fresh game."

"Ah! you have guns in the party? You will shoot deer—deer!" He smacked his thin lips greedily. "A nice, fat, juicy steak would not go bad even now. 'Tis strange how the mind runneth upon such carnal matters—it remindeth us the flesh is weak. Deer—'tis best turned upon a spit, with live coats not quite touching it. I would one might wander before your gun this very night. Young man, did I not hear you name the destination of your party as the Ohio?"

"I so stated."

"Then let me warn you, friend," he crossed his legs more comfortably, resting back at ease, "that what you propose may not prove so easy as you dream. The Amalekites and heathen, together with the worshippers of Baal, are everywhere along the upper waters. By the memory of Old Noll, I have seen more black-faced papists in the past two weeks than I ever before laid eyes on."

"You do not enjoy the prospect of a fight?"

"Nay; it is not that, friend. I am, indeed, a preacher of righteousness, a man of peace, yet I might, upon occasion, strike right lustily for the Lord and Gideon. I am not altogether unaccustomed to feeling carnal weapons of strife, but with yonder fair specimen of womanhood in our care, I should not deem it best to force a struggle, provided passage might be secured through other means."

"Have you some plan?"

"Nay; it has not been revealed unto me, although I besought it of the Lord with great earnestness after the morning meal. I will again wrestle in prayer before the throne, and no doubt it shall all be made plain in due season, if we faint not."

"I take it, then, you propose forming one of our company?"

"Such seemeth the will of the Lord," he responded soberly, "and I ever hearken unto His voice. Thou didst state there would be plenty of food, so I abide with you."



CHAPTER XIV

THE MOUTH OF THE ARKANSAS

I do not recall how many leagues we pushed our way up the stream, nor could I name the length of time required for our journey, before we arrived where a large river, bearing a muddier current, led toward the north and west. Those were neither days nor miles that imprinted themselves on memory; they left only vague impressions, as one sometimes beholds objects through the dense haze of early morning. I remember merely the low, flat line of shore, stretching away to a darker green of the heavy forest behind, and the ever-moving flood of changeless water, no sign of life appearing along its surface.

Nor was there any happening within our boat to reflect upon, excepting that our new comrade proved himself a stanch man at the oars, thus commending himself to me, in spite of a choleric temper apt to burst forth over trifles. He and De Noyan would have quarrelled many times a day, only neither comprehended the language of the other. The greatest cause I found for criticism was his interminable prayers, and the bull voice in which he offered them. I have never made mock of religion, coming of a line of godly ancestors, yet I felt there could be no necessity for making such noise over it morning, noon, and night. Yet neither entreaty nor threat moved him to desist, so I came to the conclusion that he either considered the Almighty deaf, or else was totally unconscious of his own lung power. As to his appetite—but there are things of which one may not justly write, so I content myself by saying that, all in all, he was not so bad a comrade.

De Noyan kept to his nature, and I liked him none the worse for it, although it is not pleasant to have at your side a gay cavalier one moment and a peevish woman the next. You never know which may be uppermost. Yet he performed his full share of toil like a man, and, when not curling his long moustachios, or swearing in provincial French, was mostly what he should be, a careless soldier of fortune, to whom life appealed more as a play than a stern duty. He was of that spirit most severely tried by such drudgery, and, looking back upon it, I can only wonder he bore the burden as cheerfully as he did. Beneath his reckless, grumbling exterior, the metal of the man was not of such poor quality.

However continual labor and enforced companionship told upon the rest, Madame retained her sweetness through it all, hushing our lips from many a sharp retort that had threatened to disrupt our party long before this time. She had merely to glance toward us to silence any rising strife, for no man having a true heart beneath his doublet could find spirit to quarrel before the disapproving glance of her dark eyes. It was thus we toiled forward, until one frosty morning our boat arrived where this great stream poured forth from the west, forcing its reddish, muddy current far out into the wide river against which we had struggled so long. Slowly rounding the low, marshy promontory, and beginning to feel the fierce tug of down-pouring waters against our bow, I observed the old Puritan suddenly cock up his ears, like some suspicious watch-dog, twisting his little glittering eyes from side to side, as though the spot looked familiar.

"Do you suspect anything wrong, my pious friend," I questioned curiously, "that you indulge in such sniffing of the air?"

"'Tis a spot I know well, now it looms fairly into view," he answered solemnly, continuing to peer about like one suddenly aroused from sleep. "It was near here the Philistines made camp as I passed down the river, but I perceive no signs now of human presence in the neighborhood."

His words startled me, and I began looking anxiously about us. The low shores consisted of the merest bog, overgrown heavily with stunted bushes and brown cane, but some distance beyond rose the crest of a pine forest, evidencing firmer soil. The opposite side of the stream was no whit more inviting, except that the marsh appeared less in extent, with a few outcropping rocks visible, one rising sheer from the water's edge, so crowded with bushes as scarcely to expose the rock surface to the eye.

"I discover no evidences of life," I answered at last, reassured by my careful survey. "Nor, for the matter of that, Master Cairnes, can I see any spot dry enough to camp upon."

"Up the stream a few strokes the Spaniards had camp; not so bad a place, either, when once reached, although the current will prove difficult to overcome as we turn."

Following his guidance we deflected the boat's head, and, by hard toil at the oars, slowly effected a passage up the swift stream, keeping as close as possible along the southern shore, until, having compassed something like five hundred yards, we found before us a low-lying bank, protected by rushes, dry and thickly carpeted with grass.

"What is the stream?" I questioned, marvelling at the red tinge of the water.

"The Spaniards named it the Arkansas."

"Oh, ay! I remember, although I passed this way along the other shore. It was here some of La Salle's men made settlement near a hundred years ago, I 'm told. The stream has trend northward."

"So the Spaniards claimed to my questioning; they knew little of its upper waters, yet possessed a map placing its source a few leagues from where the Ohio joins the great river. It was yonder they were encamped when I was here before."

He pointed toward a ridge of higher ground, where two trees hung like sentinels above the bank. Madame immediately turned the prow that way, and, bending our heads low, we shot beneath their trailing branches, grounding softly on the red clay of the bank. A brief search disclosed remains of camp-fires, testimony to the Puritan's remembrance of the spot. Evidently the place had been frequently occupied, and by sizable parties, yet the marks were all ancient; we discovered no signs that any one had been there lately.

It was barely daylight, although the sun was above the horizon. A vast bank of cloud hung so dense across the eastern sky as to leave the whole scene in shadow, making the hour appear much earlier. I felt, as we searched the camp-fires, a strange uneasiness, for which I could not account—it was a premonition of approaching peril. This sense is the gift of many accustomed to border life, and compelled to rely for safety upon minute signs scarcely observable to the eyes of others. I had noticed a broken reed near where we turned into this new stream, so freshly severed as to show green from sap yet flowing, while the soft mud about the base of the big rock bore evidence of having been tramped, although the distance was so great the nature of the marks was not discernible. To be sure, native denizens of the forest might account for this, yet the sight aroused suspicion and a determination to examine more closely, while the fear of prowling enemies made me strenuous in objecting to the building of any fire with which to cook our morning meal.

The eating came to a conclusion at last, although not without grumbling, in both French and English, at being obliged to subsist on cold fare. By use of threats I succeeded in inducing the Rev. Mr. Cairnes to retire without indulging in his usual devotional exercise. Discovering De Noyan comfortably settled against a tree-trunk, pipe in mouth, already beginning to look sleepy about the eyes, I muttered in his hearing a word or two regarding a fishing trip into deeper water along the opposite shore, and, quietly leaving him to unsuspicious repose, slipped down to where our boat was tied beneath the tree shadows. As I bent, loosening the rope, I felt rather than perceived the presence of Madame upon the bank above. Turning as she addressed me, I glanced up, holding the untied rope in my hand.

"You fear Spaniards may be near," she said quickly, as if she had deciphered my hidden thought.

"No, Madame," I replied, scarcely able to conceal astonishment at her penetration, yet eager to quiet alarm, particularly as I had no occasion for uneasiness. "I merely feel a curiosity to examine that odd rock beside the entrance—the one we passed on the right."

"Geoffrey Benteen," she said firmly, stepping down the sloping bank until she stood beside me, "there is no occasion for your attempting deceit with me. Besides, you are too open-hearted a man to deceive any one. I have noticed your glances, and interpreted your thoughts, ever since we turned into this stream. I am certain you fear at this moment we have been beguiled into a trap. Tell me, is this not true?"

Her clear, questioning eyes gazed so directly into my own, and were so honestly courageous, I up and told her what I had observed, and where I was then bound.

"It is better to trust me," she commented simply, as I ended my recital. "My eyes have not been altogether idle, although I am no borderer to observe such faint signs. There were several reeds bent low in the water a hundred yards back; their sides scraped as if a large boat had been dragged through them. I thought nothing of it, until I observed how intently you were studying each mark left by man. While you are gone yonder, what would you wish me to do?"

I looked at her attentively, noting how heavy her eyes were from weariness.

"You are too tired to remain on guard, Eloise," I said, forgetting I should not use that name, "or I might bid you watch here, and, if any misfortune befall me, call the others. Besides, if there are enemies at hand there is no knowing from what direction they may chance upon us. However, all we have observed were probably old marks, or made by roving beasts, and I shall soon return to fling myself on the ground, seeking sleep also. So go and rest those weary eyes, while I scout to satisfy myself. It is only the doubt of a suspicious man."

"I shall not sleep until your safe return," she replied firmly. "You shall not go forth thus without one to pray for your safe return. I beg you, exercise care."

"Have no fear, Madame, I am no reckless hot-head at such work, and shall continue to guard my life while it remains of value to you and yours. Try to rest at ease, for I will soon return, with a laugh at my foolish suspicions."

I forced the boat into the swollen stream, and, using one oar as a paddle, silently and swiftly propelled it directly across. Discovering a spot seemingly fit for travel, I pushed the prow through the long marsh grass, and stepped ashore. She still stood in the tree shadow of the opposite bank, and waving a hand in reassurance, I drew forth my long rifle from beneath the seat. Advancing silently, I pressed forward into the thick bed of cane, thinking more of Eloise de Noyan than of the task before me. It proved a hard passage, so extremely difficult as to call back my mind from foolish day-dreams to save myself an ugly fall, for the grass under-foot was matted and tangled, interspersed with marshy pools of brackish water, amid which innumerable projecting roots spread snares for the feet. The sun, now well advanced, gave me the points of the compass, and, holding the rifle-stock before my face, I cleared a path through the dense growth, and emerged from the low marsh land upon smooth turf, where some brush found foothold, yet not so thickly as to impede the walking.

I discovered myself near the bottom of a steep bank, which, curving with the line of the shore, extended forward for probably fifty feet, crowned along its ridge with numerous stunted trees. Trusting thus to obtain a firmer foothold and more extended view, I breasted the steep ascent and found the summit a narrow plateau, only a few yards in width, with a still more extensive morass upon the opposite side, which stretched away some distance in a desolate sea of cane and drooping grass. Fortunately it proved easy travelling along the ridge, which appeared of stone formation, probably having a terminus at the big rock, toward which I proposed extending my investigation.

I moved forward slowly and with caution, not because I expected to meet enemies in this lonely spot, but rather from an instinct of long frontier training. I had advanced possibly a hundred yards, when I approached a small clump of stunted evergreens, so closely woven together I could not wedge a passage between. Rounding their outer edge, my footsteps noiseless on ground thickly strewn with their soft needles, I came to a sudden halt within five paces of a man.



CHAPTER XV

A PASSAGE AT ARMS

He stood motionless, one hand grasping the limb of a tree, leaning far out so as to gaze up the river, totally unconscious of my approach. The fellow was tall, yet heavily built, wearing a great leather helmet with brass facings, his body encased in a slashed doublet, the strap fastenings of a steel breastplate showing at waist and shoulders, while high boots of yellow cordovan leather extended above his knees. I noticed also the upward curve of a huge gray moustache against the stern profile of his face, while a long straight sword dangled at his side. Evidently the stranger was a soldier, and one not to be despised in feats at arms, although in what service I might merely conjecture, as his dress was not distinctive. Yet it was small likelihood any other nation than Spain had armed men in those parts.

That he had discovered and was watching our camp, I entertained no doubt, yet for the moment the surprise of seeing him was so great I was unable to choose my safer course,—should I withdraw silently as I came, or make quick attack? If the first, he would certainly see me recross the river, and suspect my mission. Nor was the other alternative more promising. If I sprang upon him (and he looked a burly antagonist), such combat could not be noiseless, and surely the fellow was not alone in this wilderness. How close at hand lurked his companions was beyond guessing, yet, if the sound of struggle aroused that band of wolves, my life would not be worth the snapping of a finger. I felt cold chills creep up my spine as I stood hesitating, one foot uplifted, my eyes staring at that motionless figure.

I waited too long, until every vantage left me. Suddenly the soldier swung back from his lookout on to firmer ground, wheeled, and faced me. I marked his start of surprise, noting his right hand drop, with soldierly instinct, upon the sword hilt, half drawing the blade before recovering from that first impulse. Then curiosity usurped the place of fear. He took one step backward, still upon guard, surveying me carefully with one glinting gray eye, for the other had been closed by a slashing cut, which left an ugly white scar extending half-way down his cheek. Except for this deformity, he was a man of fair appearance, having a stern, clearly chiselled face, with a certain arrogant manner, telling of long authority in scenes of war. A half smile of contempt played across his features as he ran me down from head to foot, evidently with the thought I was little worthy of his steel. It was then I recognized him. There had been familiarity about his great bulk from the first, yet now, as I faced him fairly, marking the haughty sneer curl his lips, I knew him instantly as that officer who passed us in the boat with the priest.

"By the true cross!" he exclaimed at last, as if his breath had barely returned, "you gave me a start such as I have not often had in all my soldiering. Yet you are no ghost; your aspect is altogether too healthful for one condemned to exist upon air. Saprista! you must have a light foot to steal thus on me unheard. Who are you, fellow? What do you here upon this soil of Spain?"

I leaned lightly on my rifle, so that I might swing it easily if occasion warranted, determined now not to fire unless it proved necessary to save my life, and made careless answer, using the same tongue in which I had been addressed.

"Nor are you more surprised, Senor, at my presence, than was I a moment back to stumble upon you when I supposed our party alone here in this wilderness. Who did you say held dominion over this country?"

"His most gracious Christian Majesty, Charles the Third, of Spain," he replied shortly. "As his officer, I require that you give proper heed and direct answer to my questioning. Who are you, and where are you going?"

The man's domineering manner amused me, yet I replied civilly to his words.

"A wandering hunter, Senor, from the Illinois country, homeward bound. I was not aware this territory had fallen into Spanish hands, supposing it still to be under French control. You are then a soldier of Spain?"

"Ay," he returned ungraciously, eying me in his irritating way, "of the battalion of Grenada."

He was evidently in doubt whether to believe my word, and I rejoiced to mark such indecision, accepting it as proof he had not gained a glimpse of De Noyan, for whom he was in eager search.

"It may be, fellow," he consented to say at last, "you speak truth, and it may be your tongue is false as hell. These are times of grave suspicion, yet there are means of discovery open to men of action. I just noted the position of your camp yonder, and have sufficient men within easy reach of my voice to make it mine if need arise. So I warn you to deal fairly, or accept the consequences. The Marquis de Serrato is not one given to speaking twice in such quest. I have a soft tongue in ladies' bowers, but my hand is hard enough in camp and field."

He uttered these words in fierce threat, his one evil eye glaring full at me as though to terrify. Before I could answer, he shot forth a question, direct as a bullet from a gun.

"I beheld the flap of a dress yonder amid those trees; what means it? Women are not common in these parts—have you one in your company?"

"We have, my lord," I replied, holding myself to calmness, striving to speak with apparent respect for his rank. "We are four, altogether; one has his wife along to cook for us."

"You are voyaging from New Orleans?"

"Nay; from the savannahs of Red River, where we enjoyed a good season of sport."

"You are French?"

"A natural guess, yet a wrong one, Senor. I am of English blood."

"Saprista! 't is a beast of a nation! I like not that such as you should be here. I will call some of my men and visit your camp." He spoke sternly, taking a step backward as if about to seek his companions. "The tale you tell may be true enough, yet these are troublous days along the river, and my orders are strict against permitting any to pass unsearched."

My hands clinched hard around the gun-barrel for a swing, while I braced my body for a leap forward, yet held back from such desperate action, making hazard of one more effort to draw him out.

"I have met soldiers of Spain before, my lord," I said, speaking the words with deference, yet managing to inject sufficient tinge of sarcasm to the tone, "yet never previously found them so fearful of a stray hunter's camp as not to dare approach it without a guard of armed men. My companions yonder are asleep, excepting the woman; we are only three, and of peaceful life. You would discover nothing except warm welcome at our fire."

I caught the quick responsive smile lighting his hard, thin face, observing how suddenly awakened pride and contempt combined to curl his upturned moustache.

"Ah!" he exclaimed gayly, with a derisive wave of the hand, "so you suppose it is from fear I proposed calling others to accompany me! Caramba! 'tis well you put your suspicion in no stronger words. But stay; I trust not altogether the truth of your tale. Saints' love! a soldier can place faith only in what he sees—yet your face is frank and simple enough, and, as you say, there are but three of you, besides the woman. I did mark that much from yonder tree. It will be small risk to one of my experience in arms, and my men sleep in weariness. Lead on, fellow, yet do not forget I wear this sword for use, not show."

With muttered thanksgiving at my possessing so honest a countenance, and a blessing on the Spaniard's pride, I turned back, beginning to retrace my steps along the narrow ridge, never deigning to glance across my shoulder, yet confident he was close behind. Every additional step I inveigled him from his camp was to my advantage, nor would I permit him to feel suspicion on my part, as fearlessness was certain to beget confidence, and my final plan of action was already made. We thus passed the spot where I had climbed the steep bank, and were, to the best of my memory, some twenty yards beyond the hiding-place of my boat, when the ridge widened, a thick fringe of low-growing trees completely shutting out all view of the water. It was a likely spot enough, having firm ground under-foot, with sufficient room for a royal struggle, and here I determined to try a passage-at-arms with my burly antagonist. It was useless to hope for surprise. He was an old soldier dogging my steps, doubtless eying my every motion, his own hand hard gripping his sword hilt, ready to cut me down did slightest need arise. No; it must be foot to foot, eye to eye, a club of steel against the dancing blade; yet I felt the strange contest would not prove unfair, for he was a man not as agile as in years agone, while his armor of proof, valuable as it might be in the turning of a sword thrust, would be more burden than protection against my rifle-stock.

"Senor," I said, in studied courtesy, stopping suddenly and confronting him, "I have hunted across this wilderness more than one season, and dislike greatly being estopped now by Spanish decree. Nor do I comprehend your right in this matter. Have you warrant for opposing our peaceful passage to the Ohio?"

He stared at me in undisguised amazement at my boldness, a grim smile on his hard, set face.

"Ay! I have, fellow," he finally retorted angrily, tapping his hilt. "'Tis in this scabbard at my side."

"Then draw it, Senor," I exclaimed, throwing forward my long rifle menacingly. "And may God stand with the better man."

I have a conception that at the moment he believed he was being fronted by a crazed man, yet there was in my face an expression quickly teaching him otherwise, and, with a swift twist, he flashed his sword forth into the sunlight, standing on guard.

"Por Baco!" he growled savagely, "you must be little better than a fool to hoist that club. It will give me pleasure to teach you better manners toward a grandee of Spain."

"Grandee, or not," I retorted, angered at his implied contempt, "I may teach you a trick, Senor, with that same club, never learned in your Spanish fencing-schools."

It was swift, intense fighting from the word, he proving past-master of his weapon, yet my stiff rifle-barrel was no mean defence against his lighter blade, with a reach preventing his point touching my body, and sufficient weight to bear down the thin, murderous steel whenever the two came into contact. It had been long practice with me, having picked up the pretty trick from a French zouave when I was a boy, so I swung the iron as if it were a single-stick; and, in truth, I know of no better fence against the stroke of a straight sword, although fencing-masters, I have heard, make light of it. Nevertheless it was new experience to this Spaniard, and it did me good to note how it angered the fellow to be held back by such a weapon. He made such stress to press in behind my guard that he began to pant like a man running a hard race. Nor did I venture to strike a blow in return, for, in simple truth, this soldier kept me busier with parry and feint than any swordsman before, while he tried every trick of his trade, not a few of them strange to me. So I bided my time, confident he must make an opening for fit return if he kept up such furious attack, and thus, with retreat and advance, hack and guard, thrust and parry, we tramped up a wide bit of ground, while there was no sound of the struggle, except our hard breathing, with now and then a fierce curse from him as his flashing steel nicked on my gun-barrel, or flew off into thin air just as he thought to send its deadly point home.

Such fighting is wearing even to seasoned nerves, and the dazzle of the sun bothered my eyes, yet he had pressed me back scarcely more than a couple of yards when his dancing blade slipped stealthily up my brown barrel, suddenly nipping the loose sleeve of my doublet. As it pricked into the cloth, scraping the skin of my forearm, I let the fellow have the end of the muzzle full in the side. It was not the best spot for such a thrust, nor could I give it proper force, yet I think it cracked a rib, from the way the Spaniard drew back, and the sudden pallor of his face; indeed, so ghastly white he got, I thought him done for, and lowered my barrel carelessly. He was more of a man than I had reckoned on, or else his pride made him averse to accepting defeat, for with one quick spring, like a wounded tiger, he was inside my guard, his ugly point rasping into me just beneath the shoulder. Saint Andrew! It was an awkward touch, especially as the tough steel held, the punctured flesh burning like fire; but fortunately the fellow was in too great pain himself to press his advantage, and, as we clinched and went down together, I chanced to be on top, throttling him with right good-will.

That which followed was but a small matter, yet I left him there, waiting the discovery of his comrades, in as comfortable a posture as possible, confident he could give no alarm. That Spaniard was a brave man, and I have ever had respect for such.



CHAPTER XVI

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 melee 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."