CHAPTER VIII
THE LITTLE STATUE ANIMATE
The men began arguing about the degrees of whiteness in a squaw's skin.Those, married to native women, averred that differences of complexionwere purely matters of temperament and compared their dusky wives toSpanish belles. The priest was now talking across the table to DuncanCameron, advocating a renewal of North-West trade with the Mandanes onthe Missouri, whither he was bound on his missionary tour. To ventureout of the fort through the Indian encampments, where natives andoutlaws were holding high carnival, and my sleepless foe could have afree hand, would be to risk all chance of using the information that hadcome to me.
I did not fear death--fear of death was left east of the Sault in thosedays. On my preservation depended Miriam's rescue. Besides, if either LeGrand Diable or myself had to die, I came to the conclusion of other mensimilarly situated--that my enemy was the one who should go.
Violins, flutes and bag-pipes were striking up in different parts of thehall. Simple ballads, smacking of old delights in an older land, songs,with which home-sick white men comforted themselves in far-offlodges--were roared out in strident tones. Feet were beating time to therasp of the fiddles. Men rose and danced wild jigs, or deftly executedsome intricate Indian step; and uproarious applause greeted everyperformer. The hall throbbed with confused sounds and the din deadenedmy thinking faculties. Even now, Eric might be slipping past. In thatdeafening tumult I could decide nothing, and when I tried to leave thetable, all the lights swam dizzily.
"Excuse me, Sir!" I whispered, clutching the priest's elbow. "You'reFather Holland and are to go north in my boats. Come out with me for amoment."
Thinking me tipsy, he gave me a droll glance. "'Pon my soul! Strappingfellows like you shouldn't need last rites----"
"Please say nothing! Come quickly!" and I gripped his arm.
"Bless us! It's a touch of the head, or the heart!" and he rose andfollowed me from the hall.
In the fresh air, dizziness left me. Sitting down on the bench, where Ihad lain the night before, I told him my perplexing mission. At first, Iam sure he was convinced that I was drunk or raving, but my story hadthe directness of truth. He saw at once how easily he could leave thefort at that late hour without arousing suspicion, and finally offeredto come with me to the river bank, where we might intercept Hamilton.
"But we must have a boat, a light cockle-shell thing, so we can dart outwhenever the brigade appears," declared the priest, casting about in hismind for means to forward our object.
"The canoes are all locked up. Can't you borrow one from the Indians?Don't you know any of them?" I asked with a sudden sinking of heart.
"And have the whole pack of them sneaking after us? No--no--that won'tdo. Where are your wits, boy! Arrah! Me hearty, but what was that?"
We both heard the shutter above our heads suddenly thrown open, butdarkness hid anyone who might have been listening.
"Hm!" said the priest. "Overheard! Fine conspirators we are! Someeavesdropper!"
"Hush!" and remembering whose window it was, I held him; for he wouldhave stalked away.
"Are you there?" came a clear, gentle voice, that fell from the windowin the breaking ripples of a fountain plash.
The bit of statuary had become suddenly animate and was not somarble-cold to mankind as it looked. Thinking we had been taken for anexpected lover, I, too, was moving off, when the voice, that soundedlike the dropping golden notes of a cremona, called out in tones ofvibrating alarm:
"Don't--don't go! Priest! Priest! Father! It's you I'm speaking to. I'veheard every word!"
Father Holland and I were too much amazed to do aught but gape from eachother to the dark window. We could now see the outlines of a white facethere.
"If you'd please put one bench on top of another, and balance a bucketon that, I think I could get down," pleaded the low, thrilling voice.
"An' in the name of the seven wonders of creation, what for would you begetting down?" asked the astonished priest.
"Oh! Hurry! Are you getting the bench?" coaxed the voice.
"Faith an' we're not! And we have no thought of doing such a thing!"began the good man with severity.
"Then, I'll jump," threatened the voice.
"And break your pretty neck," answered the ungallant father withindignation.
There was a rustling of skirts being gathered across the window sill andoutlines of a white face gave place to the figure of a frail girlpreparing for a leap.
"Don't!" I cried, genuinely alarmed, with a mental vision of shatteredstatuary on the ground. "Don't! I'm getting the benches," and I piledthem up, with a rickety bucket on top. "Wait!" I implored, stepping upon the bottom bench. "Give me your hand," and as I caught her hands, sheleaped from the window to the bucket, and the bucket to the ground, witha daintiness, which I thought savored of experience in such escapades.
"What do you mean, young woman?" demanded Father Holland in anger. "I'llhave none of your frisky nonsense! Do you know, you baggage, that youare delaying this young man in a matter that is of life-and-deathimportance? Tell me this instant, what do you want?"
"I want to save that woman, Miriam! You're both so slow and stupid!Come, quick!" and she caught us by the arms. "There's a skiff down amongthe rushes in the flats. I can guide you to it. Cross the river in it!Oh! Quick! Quick! Some of the Hudson's Bay brigades have alreadypassed!"
"How do you know?" we both demanded as in one breath.
"I'm Frances Sutherland. My father is one of the Selkirk settlers and hehad word that they would pass to-night! Oh! Come! Come!"
This girl, the daughter of a man who was playing double to bothcompanies! And her service to me would compel me to be loyal to him!Truly, I was becoming involved in a way that complicated simple duty.But the girl had darted ahead of us, we following by the flutter of thewhite gown, and she led us out of the courtyard by a sally-port to therear of a block-house. She paused in the shadow of some shrubbery.
"Get fagots from the Indians to light us across the flats," shewhispered to Father Holland. "They'll think nothing of your coming.You're always among them!"
"Mistress Sutherland!" I began, as the priest hurried forward to theIndian camp-fires, "I hate to think of you risking yourself in this wayfor----"
"Stop thinking, then," she interrupted abruptly in a voice that somehowreminded me of my first vision of statuary.
"I beg your pardon," I blundered on. "Father Holland and I have bothforgotten to apologize for our rudeness about helping you down."
"Pray don't apologize," answered the marble voice. Then the girllaughed. "Really you're worse than I thought, when I heard you bunglingover a boat. I didn't mind your rudeness. It was funny."
"Oh!" said I, abashed. There are situations in which conversation isimpossible.
"I didn't mind your rudeness," she repeated, "and--and--you mustn't mindmine. Homesick people aren't--aren't--responsible, you know. Ah! Hereare the torches! Give me one. I thank you--Father Holland--is it not?Please smother them down till we reach the river, or we'll be followed."
She was off in a flash, leading us through a high growth of rushesacross the flats. So I was both recognized and remembered from theprevious night. The thought was not displeasing. The wind moaneddismally through the reeds. I did not know that I had been glancingnervously behind at every step, with uncomfortable recollections ofarrows and spear-heads, till Father Holland exclaimed:
"Why, boy! You're timid! What are you scared of?"
"The devil!" and I spoke truthfully.
"Faith! There's more than yourself runs from His Majesty; but resist thedevil and he will flee from you."
"Not the kind of devil that's my enemy," I explained. I told him of thearrow-shot and spear-head, and all mirth left his manner.
"I know him, I know him well. There's no greater scoundrel betweenQuebec and Athabasca."
"My devil, or yours?"
"Yours, lad. Let your laughter be turned to mourning! Beware of him!I've known mor
e than one murder of his doing. Eh! But he's cunning, socunning! We can't trip him up with proofs; and his body's as slippery asan eel or we might----"
But a loon flapped up from the rushes, brushing the priest's face withits wings.
"Holy Mary save us!" he ejaculated panting to keep up with our guide."Faith! I thought 'twas the devil himself!"
"Do you really mean it? Would it be right to get hold of Le GrandDiable?" I asked. Frances Sutherland had slackened her pace and we wereall three walking abreast. A dry cane crushed noisily under foot and myhead ducked down as if more arrows had hissed past.
"Mane it?" he cried, "mane it? If ye knew all the evil he's done ye'dknow whether I mane it." It was his custom when in banter to drop fromEnglish to his native brogue like a merry-andrew.
"But, Father Holland, I had him in my power. I struck him, but I didn'tkill him, more's the pity!"
"An' who's talking of killin', ye young cut-throat? I say get howld ofhis body and when ye've got howld of his body, I'd further advisegettin' howld of the butt end of a saplin'----"
"But, Father, he was my canoeman. I had him in my power."
Instantly he squared round throwing the torchlight on my face.
"Had him in your power--knew what he'd done--and--and--didn't?"
"And didn't," said I. "But you almost make me wish I had. What do youtake traders for?"
"You're young," said he, "and I take traders for what they are----"
"But I'm a trader and I didn't----" Though a beginner, I wore the airsof a veteran.
"Benedicite!" he cried. "The Lord shall be your avenger! He shalldeliver that evil one into the power of the punisher!"
"Benedicite!" he repeated. "May ye keep as clean a conscience in thisland as you've brought to it."
"Amen, Father!" said I.
"Here we are," exclaimed Frances Sutherland as we emerged from thereeds to the brink of the river, where a skiff was moored. "Go, bequick! I'll stay here! 'Twill be better without me. The Hudson's Bay arekeeping close to the far shore!"
"You can't stay alone," objected Father Holland.
"I shall stay alone, and I've had my way once already to-night."
"But we don't wish to lose one woman in finding another," I protested.
"Go," she commanded with a furious little stamp. "You lose time!Stupids! Do you think I stay here for nothing? We may have been followedand I shall stay here and watch! I'll hide in the rushes! Go!" And therewas a second stamp.
That stamp of a foot no larger than a boy's hand cowed two strong menand sent us rowing meekly across the river.
"Did ye ever--did ever ye see such a little termagant, such apersuasive, commanding little queen of a termagant?" asked the priestalmost breathless with surprise.
"Queen of courage!" I answered back.
"Queen of hearts, too, I'm thinking. Arrah! Me hearty, to be young!"
She must have smothered her torch, for there was no light among thereeds when I looked back. We crossed the river slowly, listening betweenoar-strokes for the paddle-dips of approaching canoes. There was nosound but the lashing of water against the pebbled shore and we lay ina little bay ready to dash across the fleet's course, when the boatsshould come abreast.
We had not long to wait. A canoe nose cautiously rounded the headlandcoming close to our boat. Instantly I shot our skiff straight across itspath and Father Holland waved the torches overhead.
"Hist! Hold back there--have a care!" I called.
"Clear the way!" came an angry order from the dark. "Clear--or we fire!"
"Fire if you dare, you fools!" I retorted, knowing well they would notalarm the fort, and we edged nearer the boat.
"Where's Eric Hamilton?" I demanded.
"A curse on you! None of your business! Get out of the way! Who areyou?" growled the voice.
"Answer--quick!" I urged Father Holland, thinking they would respectholy orders; and I succeeded in bumping my craft against their canoe.
"Strike him with your paddle, man!" yelled the steersman, who was beyondreach.
"Give 'im a bullet!" called another.
"For shame, ye saucy divils!" shouted the priest, shaking his torchaloft and displaying his garb. "Shame to ye, threatenin' to shoot amissionary! Ye'd be much better showin' respect to the Church. Whur'sEric Hamilton?" he demanded in a fine show of indignation, and hecaught the edge of their craft in his right hand.
"Let go!" and the steersman threateningly raised a pole that shonesteel-shod.
"Let go--is ut ye're orderin' me?" thundered the holy man, now in atowering rage, and he flaunted the torch over the crew. "Howld y'rimp'dent tongues!" he shouted, shaking the canoe. "Be civil this minute,or I'll spill ye to the bottom, ye load of cursin' braggarts! Faith an'ut's a durty meal ye'd make for the fush! Foine answers ye give politequestions! How d'y' know we're not here to warn ye about the fort? Forshame to ye. Whur's Eric Hamilton, I say?"
Some of the canoemen recognized the priest. Conciliatory whispers passedfrom man to man.
"Hamilton's far ahead--above the falls now," answered the steersman.
"Then, as ye hope to save your soul," warned Father Holland not yetappeased, "deliver this young man's message!"
"Tell Hamilton," I cried, "that she whom he seeks is held captive by aband of Sioux on Lake Winnipeg and to make haste. Tell him that andhe'll reward you well!"
"Vary by one word from the message," added the priest, "and my curses'lltrack your soul to the furnace."
Father Holland relaxed his grasp, the paddles dipped down and the canoewas lost in the darkness.
More than once I thought that a shadowy thing like an Indian's boat hadhung on our rear and the craft seemed to be dogging us back to theflats. Father Holland raised his torch and could see nothing on thewater but the glassy reflection of our own forms. He said it was aphantom boat I had seen; and, truly, visions of Le Grande Diable hadhaunted me so persistently of late, I could scarcely trust my senses.Frances Sutherland's torch suddenly appeared waving above the flats. Iput muscle to the oar and before we had landed she called out--
"An Indian's canoe shot past a moment ago. Did you see it?"
"No," returned Father Holland.
"I think we did," said I.
* * * * *
"How can I thank you for what you have done?" I was saying to FrancesSutherland as we entered the fort by the same sally-port.
"Do you really want to know how?"
"Do I?" I was prepared to offer dramatic sacrifice.
"Then never think of it again, nor speak of it again, nor know me anymore than if it hadn't happened----"
"The conditions are hard."
"And----"
"And what?" I asked eagerly.
"And help me back the way I came down. For if my father--oh! if myfather knew--he would kill me!"
"Faith! So he ought!" ejaculated the priest. "Risking such precioustreasure among vandals!"
Again I piled up the benches. From the bench, she stepped to the bucket,and from the bucket to my shoulder, and as the light weight left myshoulder for the window sill, unknown to her, I caught the fluffy skirt,now bedraggled with the night dew, and kissed it gratefully.
"Oh--ho--and oh-ho and oh-ho," hummed the priest. "Do _I_ scentmatrimony?"
"Not unless it's in your nose," I returned huffily. "Show me a man ofall the hundreds inside, Father Holland, that wouldn't go on hismarrow-bones to a woman who risks life and reputation, which is dearerthan life, to save another woman!"
"Bless you, me hearty, if he wouldn't, he'd be a villain," said thepriest.
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