IX
Next morning the baroness went away in her glittering caleche withLouison. Each shining spoke and golden turret flashed the sunlightback at me as I looked after them at the edge of the wood. Thebaroness had asked me to go with her, but I thought the journey toolong. Louise came out and sat by me awhile as I lay in thehammock. She was all in white. A trifle taller and a bit moreslender than her sister, I have sometimes thought her beauty wasstatelier, also, and more statuesque. The sight of her seemed tokindle in me the spirit of old chivalry. I would have fought anddied for her with my best lance and plume. In all my life I hadnot seen a woman of sweeter graces of speech and manner, and, intruth, I have met some of the best born of her sex.
She had callers presently--the Sieur Michel and his daughter. Iwent away, then, for a walk, and, after a time, strolled into thenorth trail. Crossing a mossy glade, in a circle of fragrantcedar, I sat down to rest. The sound of falling water came to myear through thickets of hazel and shadberry. Suddenly I heard asweet voice singing a love-song of Provence--the same voice, thesame song, I had heard the day I came half fainting on my horse.Somebody was coming near. In a moment I saw Louise before me.
"What, ma'm'selle!" I said; "alone in the woods!"
"Not so," said she. "I knew you were here--somewhere,and--and--well, I thought you might be lonely."
"You are a good angel," I said, "always trying to make othershappy."
"Eh bien," said she, sitting beside me, "I was lonely myself. Icannot read or study. I have neglected my lessons; I have insultedthe tutor--threw my book at him, and walked away, for he sputteredat me. I do not know what is the matter. I know I am very wicked.Perhaps--ah me! perhaps it is the devil."
"Ma'm'selle, it is appalling!" I said. "You may have injured thepoor man. You must be very bad. Let me see your palm."
I held her dainty fingers in mine, that were still hard and brown,peering into the pink hollow of her hand. She looked up curiously.
"A quick temper and a heart of gold," I said. "If the devil hasit, he is lucky, and--well, I should like to be in his confidence."
"Ah, m'sieur," said she, seriously, a little tremor on her lips, "Ihave much trouble--you do not know. I have to fight with myself."
"You have, then, a formidable enemy," I answered.
"But I am not quarrelsome," said she, thoughtfully. "I am onlyweary of the life here. I should like to go away and be of someuse in the world. I suppose it is wicked, for my papa wishes me tostay. And bah! it is a prison--a Hopital de Salpetriere!"
"Ma'm'selle," I exclaimed, "if you talk like that I shall take youon my horse and fly with you. I shall come as your knight, as yourdeliverer, some day."
"Alas!" said she, with a sigh, "you would find me very heavy. Onehas nothing to do here but grow lazy and--ciel!--fat."
If my meeting with her sister had not made it impossible andabsurd, I should have offered my heart to this fair young lady thenand there. Now I could not make it seem the part of honor anddecency. I could not help adoring her simplicity, her frankness,her beautiful form and face.
"It is no prison for me," I said. "I do not long for deliverance.I cannot tell you how happy I have been to stay--how unhappy Ishall be to leave."
"Captain," she said quickly, "you are not strong; you are nosoldier yet."
"Yes; I must be off to the wars."
"And that suggests an idea," said she, thoughtfully, her chin uponher hand.
"Which is?"
"That my wealth is ill-fortune," she went on, with a sigh. "Menand women are fighting and toiling and bleeding and dying to makethe world better, and I--I am just a lady, fussing, primping,peering into a looking-glass! I should like to do something, butthey think I am too good--too holy."
"But it is a hard business--the labors and quarrels of the greatworld," I suggested.
"Well--it is God's business," she continued. "And am I not one ofhis children, and 'wist ye not that I must be about my Father'sbusiness?' It was not too good for the man who said that."
"But what would you do?"
"I do not know. I suppose I can do nothing because--alas! becausemy father has bought my obedience with a million francs. Do younot see that I am in bondage?"
"Be patient; the life of a rich demoiselle is not barren ofopportunity."
"To be gay--oh! one might as well be a peacock; to say prettythings, one might better be a well-trained parrot; to grace thecourt or the salon, I had as soon be a statue in the corner--it hasmore comfort, more security; to be admired, to hear finecompliments--well, you know that is the part of a pet poodle. Isay, captain, to be happy one must be free to do."
I looked into her big eyes, that were full of their new discovery.
"I should like to be among the wounded soldiers," said she, herface brightening. "It did make me very happy to sit by yourbedside and do for you."
There was a very tender look in her eyes then.
She started to rise. A brier, stirring in the breeze, had fallenacross her hair. She let me loose the thorns, and, doing so, Ikissed her forehead--I could not help it.
"M'sieur!" she exclaimed in a whisper. Then she turned quicklyaway and stood tearing a leaf in her fingers.
"Forgive me!" I pleaded, for I saw she was crying. "It was theimpulse of a moment. Pray forgive me!"
She stood motionless and made no answer, I never felt such a stirin me, for I had a fear, a terrible fear, that I had lost what Imight never have again.
"It was honorable admiration," I continued, rising to my fullheight beside her. "Tell me, ma'm'selle, have I hurt you?"
"No," said she, in a voice that trembled. "I am thinking--I amthinking of somebody else."
The words, spoken so slowly, so sweetly, seemed, nevertheless, tofly at me. "Of somebody else!" Whom could she mean? Had hersister told her? Did she know of my meeting with Louison? I wasabout to confess how deeply, how tenderly, I loved her. I hadspoken the first word when this thought flashed upon me, and Ihalted. I could not go on.
"Ma'm'selle," I said, "I--I--if it is I of whom you are thinking,give me only your pity, and I can be content. Sometime, perhaps, Imay deserve more. If I can be of any service to you, send forme--command me. You shall see I am not ungrateful. Ah,ma'm'selle," I continued, as I stood to my full height, and felt amighty uplift in my heart that seemed to toss the words out of me,"I have a strong arm and a good sword, and the love of honor andfair women."
She wiped her eyes, and turned and looked up at me. I was nolonger a sick soldier.
"It is like a beautiful story," she said thoughtfully; "andyou--you are like a knight of old. We must go home. It is longpast luncheon hour. We must hurry."
She gave me her arm up the hill, and we walked without speaking.
"I am very well to-day," I remarked as we came to the road. "Ifyou will wait here until I get to the big birch, I shall go aroundto see if I can beat you to the door."
"It is not necessary," said she, smiling, "and--and, m'sieur, I amnot ashamed of you or of what I have done."
The baroness and Louison had not yet returned. M. Pidgeon was atluncheon with us in the big dining room, and had much to say of themighty Napoleon and the coalition he was then fighting.
The great monsieur stayed through the afternoon, as the baronesshad planned a big houseparty for the night, in celebration of thecount's return. My best clothes had come by messenger from theHarbor, and I could put myself in good fettle. The baroness andthe count and Louison came early, and we sat long together underthe trees.
The dinner was at seven. There were more than a dozen guests,among whom were a number I had seen at the chateau--Mr. DavidParish of Ogdensburg, who arrived late in a big, two-wheeled cartdrawn by four horses that came galloping to the door, and GeneralWilkinson, our new commander in the North, a stout, smooth-facedman, who came with Mr. Parish in citizen's dress.
At dinner the count had much to say of scenes of excitement inAlbany, where he had late
ly been. The baroness and her wards wereresplendent in old lace and sparkling jewels. Great haunches ofvenison were served from a long sideboard; there was a free flow ofold Madeira and Burgundy and champagne and cognac. Mr. Parish andthe count and the general and Moss Kent and M. Pidgeon sat long atthe table, with cigars and coffee, after the rest of us had gone tothe parlors, and the big room rang with their laughter. The youngMarquis de Gonvello and Mr. Marc Isambert Brunel of the Compagnie,who, afterward founded the great machine-shops of the Royal NavyYard at Portsmouth and became engineer of the Thames tunnel, andPierre Chassinis, Jr., and I waltzed with the ladies. Presently Isat down near the baroness, who was talking in French with ThereseLe Ray, the count's daughter.
"Pardon my using French," said the baroness, turning to me, "for Ibelieve you do not use it, and, my friend, it is a misfortune, foryou miss knowing what good company is the Ma'm'selle Le Ray."
"And I miss much pleasure and mayhap a duel with the marquis," Isaid, laughing; "but I beg you to proceed with your talk. I havelearned many words since I came here, and I love the sound of it."
"We saw British soldiers to-day," she continued to Ma'm'selle LeRay, in French. "They crossed the road near us on their horses."
Louison came over and sat by them.
"They were not in uniform," the baroness continued, "but I knewthey were English; you cannot mistake them."
"And what do you think ?" said Louison, eagerly. "One of themthreatened to kiss me."
"Indeed, that was terrible," said Ma'm'selle Le Ray. "You musthave been afraid."
"Yes," said she, smiling, "afraid he wouldn't. They were agood-looking lot."
"I do not think he was speaking of you at all," said the baroness."He was looking at me when--"
"Ciel!" exclaimed Louison, laughing. "That is why they turnedsuddenly and fled into the fields."
I fled, too,--perhaps as suddenly as the Britishers,--to savemyself the disgrace of laughter.
The great clock in the hall above-stairs tolled the hour of two.The ladies had all gone to bed save the baroness. The butler hadstarted upstairs, a candelabrum in his hand. Following him werethe count and Mr. Parish, supporting the general between them. Theable soldier had overrated his capacity. All had risen to go totheir rooms. Of a sudden we were startled by a loud rap on thefront door. A servant opened it, and immediately I heard thefamiliar voice of D'ri.
"Is they anybody here by the name o' Mister Bell?" he asked.
I ran to the door, and there stood D'ri, his clothes wet, his bootsmuddy, for it had been raining. Before he could speak I had myarms around him, and he sank to his knees in my embrace. He wasbreathing heavily.
"Tired out--thet's whut's the matter," he muttered, leaning over onone hand. "Come through the woods t' save yer life, I did, an'they was tight up t' me all the way."
"Poor fellow!" said the baroness, who stood at the door. "Help himin at once and give him a sip of brandy."
"Tuk me prisoner over there 'n the woods thet day," said he,sinking into a chair and leaning forward, his head on his hands."They tuk 'n' they toted me over t' Canady, an' I tuk 'n' got away,'n' they efter me. Killed one on 'em thet was chasin' uv me over'n the Beaver medders on the bog trail. Hoss got t' wallerin' sohe hed t' come down. Riz up out o' the grass 'n' ketched holt uv'im 'fore he c'u'd pull a weepon. Tuk this out uv his pocket, an'I tried to git the boss out o' the mire, but didn't hev time."
He sat erect and proudly handed me a sheet of paper. I opened it,and read as follows:--
"To CAPTAIN ELIAS WILKINS, _Royal Fusiliers_.
"_My dear Captain_: You will proceed at once across the river witha detail of five men mounted and three days' rations, and, ifpossible, capture the prisoner who escaped early this morning,making a thorough search of the woods in Jefferson County. He hasinformation of value to the enemy, and I regard his death orcapture of high and immediate importance. I am informed that theyoung desperado who murdered my Lord of Pickford in the forestbelow Clayton June 29, escaping, although badly wounded, is lyingat the country-seat of the Baroness de Ferre, a Frenchwoman, atLeraysville, Jefferson County, New York. It would gratify me ifyou could accomplish one or both captures. With respect, I am,
"Your Obedient Servant, "R. SHEAFFER, _General Commanding_."
"They 'll be here," said D'ri. "They 'll be here jest es sure esGod--'fore daylight, mebbe. But I can't fight er dew nothin' tillI 've tied some vittles."
"You shall have supper," said the baroness, who, without delay,went to the kitchen herself with a servant to look after it. Thebutler brought a pair of slippers and a dry coat, while I drew offthe boots of my good friend. Then I gave him my arm as he limpedto the kitchen beside me. The baroness and I sat near him as heate.
"Go upstairs and call the gentlemen," said she to the butler, "Donot make any disturbance, but say I should like to speak with themin the dining room."
"Is thet air hired man o' yours a Britisher?" D'ri inquired assoon as the butler was gone.
"He is--from Liverpool," said she.
"Thet's the hole 'n the fence," said he. "Thet's where the goosegot away."
"The goose! The geese!" said the baroness, thoughtfully. "I donot understand you."
"Went 'n' blabbed, thet's whut he done," said D'ri. "Mebbe wrote'em a letter, gol-dum his pictur'."
"Oh, I perceive! I understand," said she; "and I send him awayto-morrow."
"Neck's broke with hunger," said D'ri. "Never threw no vittles 'nmy basket with sech a splendid taste tew 'em es these hev."
The baroness looked at him with some show of worry.
"I beg your pardon," said she, "did you say the neck of you wasbroken?"
I explained the idiom.
"Ain't hed nothin' t' eat since day 'fore yistiddy," said D'ri."Judas Priest! I 'm all et up with hunger."
With old Burgundy and biscuit and venison and hot coffee he wasrapidly reviving.
"I 'm wondering where I will hide you both," said the baroness,thoughtfully.
"Hed n't orter hev no rumpus here, 'n' go t' shootin' 'n' mebbespile yer house 'n' furnicher," said D'ri. "'T ain't decent er 'tain't nice. We 'd better mek tracks an' put a mild er tew 'twixtus 'n' here 'fore we hev any trouble. 'T ain't a-goin' t' be noSunday School. Ef they can, they 're a-goin't' tek us dead er'live. Ef they ever tuk us we would n't be wuth shucks, nuther onus, efter court martial."
"I shall not permit you to go," said the baroness. "They may behere now, about the house in the dark. They would shoot you, theywould stab you, they would cause you to die as you went. No, Ishall permit you not to go, There are four of them? Very well, weshall fight here, we shall conquer. We have a general, a count, amillionnaire, a marquis, a lawyer, an astronomer, a scout, and,"she added, patting me on the shoulder, "_le brave capitaine_! Ihave four guns and three pistols, and M'sieur Bell has arms also.We shall conquer. We shall make them to bite the dust."
"Guns; did ye say? Jerushy Jane! Le' 's hev 'em," said D'ri.
"What did he call me? Mon Dieu! Jerushy Jane! It is not I," saidthe baroness.
Again I explained the difficulty.
"Ain't very proper-spoke," said D'ri, apologetically. "Jest wan't'say et them 'air guns er likely t' come handy here 'most anyminute. Give us guns, 'n' we 'll sock it to 'em."
"We shall sock it to them, we shall indeed," said she, hurrying outof the room. "We shall make them to run for their lives."
They were all in the dining room--the men of the party--save thegeneral, who could not he awakened. Guns and pistols were loaded.I made a novel plan of defence that was unanimously approved. Iposted a watch at every window. A little after dawn the baroness,from behind a curtain, saw a squad of horsemen coming through thegrove.
"Ici! they have come!" said she, in a loud whisper. "There are notfour; there are many."
I took my detail of six men above-stairs. Each had a strip oflumber we had found in the shop, and each carefully raised awindow, waiting the signal
. I knew my peril, but I was never socool in my life. If I had been wiser, possibly I should have feltit the more. The horsemen promptly deployed, covering every sideof the mansion. They stood close, mounted, pistol and sabre ready.Suddenly I gave the signal. Then each of us thrust out the stripof lumber stealthily, prodding the big drab cones on every side.Hornets and wasps, a great swarm of them, sprang thick as seedsfrom the hand of a sower. It was my part to unhouse a colony ofthe long, white-faced hornets. Goaded by the ruin of their nests,they saw the nodding heads below them, and darted at man and horselike a night of arrows. They put their hot spurs into flank andface and neck. I saw them strike and fall; they do hit hard, thosebig-winged _Vespae_. It was terrible, the swift charge of thatwinged battalion of the air. I heard howls of pain below me, andthe thunder of rushing feet. The horses were rearing and plunging,the men striking with their hats.
I heard D'ri shouting and laughing at his window.
"Give 'em hell, ye little blue devils!" he yelled; and there wasall evidence that they understood him.
Then, again, every man of us opened his window and fired a volleyat the scurrying mass.
One horse, rearing and leaping on his hind legs, came down acrossthe back of another, and the two fell heavily in a rolling,convulsive heap. One, as if blinded, bumped a tree, going over onhis withers, all fours flashing in the air. Some tore off in thethickets, as unmanageable as the wild moose. More than half threwtheir riders. Not a man of them pulled a trigger: they were busyenough, God knows. Not one of them could have hit the sky with anycertainty. I never saw such a torrent of horsehair and red caps.
"Whut! Been on the back o' one o' 'em hosses?" said D'ri, tellingof it a long time after. "'D ruther o' been shet up 'n a barrelwith a lot o' cats 'n' rolled downhill. Good deal better fer myhealth, an' I 'd 'a' luked more like a human bein' when I come out.Them fellers--they did n't luk fit t' 'sociate with nuthin' ernobody when we led 'em up t' the house--nut one on 'em."
Only one Britisher was brought down by our bullets, and he had beenthe mark of D'ri: with him a rifle was never a plaything. Fiveothers lay writhing in the grass, bereft of horse, deserted bytheir comrades. The smudges were ready, and the nets. D'ri and Iput on the latter and ran out, placing a smudge row on every sideof the Hermitage. The winged fighters were quickly driven away.Of the helpless enemy one had staggered off in the brush; theothers lay groaning, their faces lumpy and one-sided. A bigsergeant had a nose of the look and diameter of a goose-egg; onecarried a cheek as large and protuberant as the jowl of a porker'shead; and one had ears that stuck out like a puffed bladder. Theywere helpless. We disarmed them and brought them in, doing all wecould for their comfort with blue clay and bruised plantain. Itwas hard on them, I have often thought, but it saved an ugly fightamong ladies, and, no doubt, many lives. I know, if they had takenus, D'ri and I would never have got back.
I have saved myself many a time by strategy, but chose the swordalways if there were an even chance. And, God knows, if one hadever a look at our bare bodies, he would see no sign of shirking oneither D'ri or me.
D'Ri and I Page 11
