CHAPTER XXII
WE LEAVE THE NORTH SEA
So Sieur Radisson must fit out a royal flotilla to carry MistressHortense to the French Habitation. And gracious acts are like the gifthorse: you must not look them in the mouth. For the same flotilla thatbrought Hortense brought all M. Picot's hoard of furs. Coming down theriver, lying languidly back among the peltries of the loaded canoe,Hortense, I mind, turned to me with that honest look of hers and askedwhy Sieur Radisson sent to fetch her in such royal state.
"I am but a poor beggar like your little Jack Battle," she protested.
I told her of M. Radisson's plans for entrance to the English court,and the fire that flashed to her eyes was like his own.
"Must a woman ever be a cat's-paw to man's ambitions?" she asked, witha gleam of the dark lights. "Oh, the wilderness is different," saysHortense with a sigh. "In the wild land, each is for its own! Oh, Ilove it!" she adds, with a sudden lighting of the depths in her eyes.
"Love--what?"
"The wilderness," says Hortense. "It is hard, but it's free and it'spure and it's true and it's strong!"
And she sat back among the pillows.
When we shot through racing rapids--"sauter les rapides," as our Frenchvoyageurs say--she sat up all alert and laughed as the spray splashedathwart. Old Allemand, the pilot, who was steersman on this canoe,forgot the ill-humour of his gin thirst, and proffered her a paddle.
"Here, pretty thing," says he, "try a stroke yourself!"
And to the old curmudgeon's surprise she took it with a joyous laugh,and paddled half that day.
Bethink you who know what warm hearts beat inside rough buckskinwhether those voyageurs were her slaves or no! The wind was blowing;Mistress Hortense's hair tossed in a way to make a man swear (vows, notoaths), and Allemand said that I paddled worse than any green hand of afirst week. At the Habitation we disembarked after nightfall toconceal our movements from the English. After her arrival, none of uscaught a glimpse of Mistress Hortense except of a Sunday at noon, butof her presence there was proof enough. Did voices grow loud in themess-room? A hand was raised. Some one pointed to the far door, andthe voices fell. Did a fellow's tales slip an oath or two? There wasa hush. Some one's thumb jerked significantly shoulderwise to thedoor, and the story-teller leashed his oats for a more convenientseason.
"Oh, lordy," taunts an English prisoner out on parole one day, "anyangels from kingdom come that you Frenchies keep meek as lambs?"
Allemand, not being able to explain, knocked the fellow flat.
It would scarce have been human nature had not some of the ruffiansuttered slurs on the origin of such an one as Hortense found in sostrange a case. The mind that feedeth on carrion ever goeth with thelarge mouth, and for the cleansing of such natures I wot there is nobetter physic than our crew gave those gossips. What the sailors did Isay not. Enough that broken heads were bound by our chirurgeon for therest of the week.
That same chirurgeon advised a walk outside the fort walls for MistressHillary's health. By the goodness of Providence, the duty of escortingher fell to me. Attended by the blackamoor and a soldier, with amusket across my shoulder, I led her out of a rear sally-port and soavoided the scenes of drunkenness among the Indians at the main gate.We got into hiding of a thicket, but boisterous shouting came from theIndian encampment. I glanced at Hortense. She was clad in a greenhunting-suit, and by the light of the setting sun her face shoneradiant.
"You are not afraid?"
A flush of sheer delight in life flooded her cheeks.
"Afraid?" she laughed.
"Hortense! Hortense! Do you not hear the drunken revel? Do you knowwhat it means? This world is full of what a maid must fear. 'Tis herfear protects her."
"Ah?" asks Hortense.
And she opened the tight-clasped hunting-cloak. A Spanish poniard hungagainst the inner folds.
"'Tis her courage must protect her. The wilderness teaches that," saysHortense, "the wilderness and men like Picot."
Then we clasped hands and ran like children from thicket to rock androck to the long stretches of shingly shore. Behind came theblackamoor and the soldier. The salt spray flew in our faces, the windthrough our hair; and in our hearts, a joy untold. Where a greatobelisk of rock thrust across the way, Hortense halted. She stood onthe lee side of the rock fanning herself with her hat.
"Now you are the old Hortense!"
"I _am_ older, hundreds of years older," laughed Hortense.
The westering sun and the gold light of the sea and the caress of aspring wind be perilous setting for a fair face. I looked and lookedagain.
"Hortense, should an oath to the dead bind the living?"
"If it was right to take the oath, yes," said Hortense.
"Hortense, I may never see you alone again. I promised to treat you asI would treat a sister----"
"But--" interrupts Hortense.
Footsteps were approaching along the sand. I thought only of theblackamoor and soldier.
"I promised to treat you as I would a sister--but what--Hortense?"
"But--but I didn't promise to treat you as I would a brother----"
Then a voice from the other side of the rock: "Devil sink my soul tothe bottom of the sea if that viper Frenchman hasn't all our furspacked away in his hold!"
Then--"A pox on him for a meddlesome--" the voice fell.
Then Ben Gillam again: "Shiver my soul! Let 'im set sail, I say!Aren't you and me to be shipped on a raft for the English fort at thefoot o' the bay?"
"We'll send 'em all to the bottom o' hell first."
"An you give the word, all my men will rise!"
"Capture the fort--risk the ships--butcher the French!"
Hortense raised her hand and pointed along the shore. Our two guardswere lumbering up and would presently betray our presence. Stealingforward we motioned their silence. I sent both to listen behind therock, while Hortense and I struck into cover of the thicket to regainthe fort.
"Do not fear," said I. "M. Radisson has kept the prisoners in hand.He will snuff this pretty conspiracy out before Brigdar and Ben gettheir heads apart."
She gave that flitting look which laughs at fear and hastened on. Wecould not go back as we had come without exposing ourselves to the twoconspirators, and our course lay nearer the Indian revel. About a milefrom the fort Hortense stopped short. Through the underbrush crawledtwo braves with their eyes leering at us.
"Hortense," I urged, "run for the rear gate! I'll deal with these twoalone. There may be more! Run, my dear!"
"Give me your musket," she said, never taking her eyes from the savages.
Wondering not a little at the request, I handed her the weapon.
"Now run," I begged, for a sand crane flapped up where the savages hadprowled a pace nearer.
Quick as it rose Hortense aimed. There was a puff of smoke. The birdfell shot at the savages' feet, and the miscreants scudded off interror.
"That was better," said Hortense, "_you_ would have killed a man."
In vain I urged her to hasten back. She walked.
"You know it may be the last time," she laughed, mocking my grave airof the beach.
"Hortense--Hortense--how am I to keep a promise?"
But she did not answer a word till we reached the sally-port. Thereshe turned with a brave enough look till her eyes met mine, when allwas the confusion that men give their lives to win.
"Yes--yes--keep your promise. If you had not come, I had died; if Ihad not come, you had died. Let us keep faith with truth, for that'skeeping faith with God--and--and--God bless you," she whisperedbrokenly, and she darted through the gate.
* * * * * *
And the next morning we embarked, young Jean Groseillers remaining withten Frenchmen to hold the fort; Brigdar and Ben aboard our ship insteadof going to the English at the foot of the bay; half the prisonersunder hatches in M. Groseillers's ship; the other half sent south onthe raft
--a plan which effectually stopped that conspiracy of Ben's.Not one glimpse of our fair passenger had we on all that voyage south,for what with Ben's oaths and Governor Brigdar's drinking, the cabinwas no place for Hortense.
At Isle Percee, entering the St. Lawrence, lay a messenger from LaChesnaye's father with a missive that bore ill news.
M. de la Barre, the new governor, had ordered our furs confiscatedbecause we had gone north without a license, and La Chesnaye hadthriftily rigged up this ship to send half our cargo across to Francebefore the Farmers of the Revenue could get their hands upon it. Itwas this gave rise to the slander that M. de Radisson ran off with halfLa Chesnaye's furs--which the records de la marine will disprove, ifyou search them.
On this ship with her blackamoors sailed Mistress Hortense, bearingletters to Sir John Kirke, director of the Hudson's Bay Company andfather of M. Radisson's wife.
"Now praise be Heaven, that little ward will open the way for us inEngland, Chouart," said M. de Radisson, as he moodily listened to newsof the trouble abrewing in Quebec.
And all the way up the St. Lawrence, as the rolling tide lapped ourkeel, I was dreaming of a far, cold paleocrystic sea, mystic in thefrost-clouds that lay over it like smoke. Then a figure emerged fromthe white darkness. I was snatched up, with the northern lights forchariot, two blazing comets our steeds, and the north star a charioteer.
PART III
Heralds of Empire Page 24
