D'Ri and I
Page 12
X
The shooting and shouting and the tramp of horse and man had rousedeverybody in the big house. Even the general came down to knowwhat was the matter. The young ladies came, pale and frightened,but in faultless attire. I put an armed guard by the prisoners atthe door, under command of D'ri. Then I had them bare the feet ofthe four Britishers, knowing they could not run bootless in thebrush. We organized a convoy,--the general and I,--and prepared tostart for the garrison. We kept the smudges going, for now andthen we could hear the small thunder of hornet-wings above us.There is a mighty menace in it, I can tell you, if they are angry.
"Jerushy Jane Pepper!" said D'ri, as he sat, rifle on his knee,looking at his prisoners. "Never thought nobody c'u'd luk s'joemightyful cur'us. Does mek a man humly t' hev any trouble withthem air willy-come-bobs." He meant wasps.
I had had no opportunity for more than a word with the youngladies. I hoped it might come when I went in for a hasty breakfastwith the baroness, the count, the general, and Mr. Parish. As wewere eating, Louison came in hurriedly. She showed some agitation.
"What is the trouble, my dear?" said the baroness, in French.
"Eh bien, only this," said she: "I have dropped my ring in thebrook. It is my emerald. I cannot reach it."
"Too bad! She has dropped her ring in the brook," said thebaroness, in English, turning to me.
"If she will have the kindness to take me there," I said to thehostess, rising as I spoke, "I shall try to get it for her."
"M'sieur le Capitaine, you are very obliging," said she. Then,turning to Louison, she added in French: "Go with him. He willrecover it for you."
It pleased and flattered me, the strategy of this wonderful youngcreature. She led me, with dainty steps, through a dewy gardenwalk into the trail.
"Parbleu!" she whispered, "is it not a shame to take you from yourmeat? But I could not help it. I had to see you; there issomething I wish to say."
"A pretty girl is better than meat," I answered quickly. "I amindebted to you."
"My! but you have a ready tongue," said she. "It is with me apleasure to listen. You are going away? You shall notreturn--perhaps?"
She was trying to look very gay and indifferent, but in her voice Icould detect a note of trouble. The flame of passion, quenched fora little time by the return of peril and the smoke of gunpowder,flashed up in me.
"It is this," she went on: "I may wish you to do me a favor. May Ihave your address?"
"And you may command me," I said as I gave it to her.
"Have a care!" she said, laughing. "I may ask you to do desperatethings--you may need all your valor. The count and thebaroness--they may send us back to France."
"Which will please you," I remarked.
"Perhaps," she said quickly. "Mon Dieu! I do not know what Iwant; I am a fool. Take this. Wear it when you are gone. Notthat I care--but--it will make you remember."
She held in her fingers a flashing emerald on a tiny circlet ofgold. Before I could answer she had laid it in my hard palm andshut my hand upon it.
"Dieu!" she exclaimed, whispering, "I must return--I must hurry.Remember, we did not find the ring."
I felt a great impulse to embrace her and confess my love. But Iwas not quick enough. Before I could speak she had turned away andwas running. I called to her, but she did not turn or seem to hearme. She and my opportunity were gone.
We stowed the prisoners in the big coach at the baroness, behind alively team of four. Then my horse and one for D'ri were broughtup.
"Do not forget," said the baroness, holding my hand, "you arealways welcome in my house. I hope, ma foi! that you will neverfind happiness until you return."
The young ladies came not to the step where we were, but stood bythe count waving adieux. Louison had a merry smile and a prettyword of French for me; Louise only a sober look that made me sad,if it did not speak for the same feeling in her. The count was toremain at the Hermitage, having sent to the chateau for a squad ofhis armed retainers. They were to defend the house, if, by chance,the British should renew their attack. Mr. Parish and his footmanand the general went with us, the former driving. D'ri and I rodeon behind as the coach went off at a gallop.
He was a great whip, that man David Parish, who had built a bigmansion at Ogdensburg and owned so much of the north country thosedays. He was a gentleman when the founders of the proud familiesof to-day were dickering in small merchandise. Indeed, one mightlook in vain for such an establishment as his north of Virginia.This side the Atlantic there was no stable of horses to be comparedwith that he had--splendid English thoroughbreds, the blood ofwhich is now in every great family of American horses. And, myfaith! he did love to put them over the road. He went tearing uphill and down at a swift gallop, and the roads were none too smoothin that early day. Before leaving home he had sent relays ahead toawait his coming every fifteen miles of the journey: he always didthat if he had far to go. This time he had posted them clear tothe Harbor. The teams were quickly shifted; then we were off againwith a crack of the whip and a toot of the long horn. He held upin the swamps, but where footing was fair, the high-mettled horseshad their heads and little need of urging. We halted at an inn fora sip of something and a bite to eat.
"Parish," said the general, rising on stiffened legs, "I like yourcompany and I like your wine, but your driving is a punishment."
D'ri was worn out with lack of sleep and rest, but he had hungdoggedly to his saddle.
"How do you feel?" I asked him as we drew up on each side of thecoach.
"Split t' the collar," said he, soberly, as he rested an elbow onhis pommel.
We got to headquarters at five, and turned over the prisoners. Wehad never a warmer welcome than that of the colonel.
"I congratulate you both," he said as he brought the rum-bottleafter we had made our report. "You've got more fight in you than awolverene. Down with your rum and off to your beds, and reporthere at reveille. I have a tough job for you to-morrow."