CHAPTER XI
A SHUFFLING OF ALLEGIANCE
Time was when Fort Douglas rang as loudly with mirth of assembledtraders as ever Fort William's council hall. Often have I heard veteransof the Hudson's Bay service relate how the master of revels used to fillan ample jar with corn and quaff a beaker of liquor for every grain inthe drinker's hour-glass.
"How stands the hour-glass?" the governor of the feast, who wasfrequently also the governor of the company, would roar out instentorian tones, that made themselves heard above the drunken brawl.
"High, Your Honor, high," some flunkey of the drinking bout would bawlback.
Thereupon, another grain was picked from the jar, another flagon tosseddown and the revel went on. This was a usual occurrence before and afterthe conflict with the Nor'-Westers. But the night that I climbed thestairs of the main warehouse and, mustering up assurance, stepped intothe hall as if I belonged to the fort, or the fort belonged to me, therewas a different scene. A wounded man lay on a litter at the end of thelong, low room; and the traders sitting on the benches against thewalls, or standing aimlessly about, were talking in suppressed tones.Scotchmen, driven from their farms by the _Bois-Brules_, hung around inanxious groups. The lanterns, suspended on iron hooks from mid-rafter,gave but a dusky light, and I vainly scanned many faces for EricHamilton. That he was wounded, I knew. I was stealing stealthily towardsthe stretcher at the far end of the place, when a deep voice burredrough salutation in my ear.
"Hoo are ye, gillie?" It was a shaggy-browed, bluff Scotchman, whoevidently took me in my tartan disguise for a Highland lad. Whether hemeant, "How are you," or "Who are you," I was not certain. Afraid mytongue might betray me, I muttered back an indistinct response. The Scotwas either suspicious, or offended by my churlishness. I slipped offquickly to a dark corner, but I saw him eying me closely. A youthbrushed past humming a ditty, which seemed strangely out of place inthose surroundings. He stood an elbow's length from me and kickedmoccasined heels against the floor in the way of light-headed lads. Boththe air and figure of the young fellow vaguely recalled somebody, buthis back was towards me. I was measuring my comrade, wondering if Imight inquire where Hamilton could be found, when the lad turned, and Iwas face to face with the whiskered babe of Fort William. He gave along, low whistle.
"Gad!" he gasped. "Do my eyes tell lies? As I live, 'tis your very self!Hang it, now, I thought you were one of those solid bodies wouldn't doany turn-coating----"
"Turn-coating!" I repeated in amazement.
"One of those dray-horse, old reliables, wouldn't kick over the traces,not if the boss pumped his arms off licking you! Hang it! I'm not thatsort! By gad, I'm not! I've got too many oats! I can't stand being jawedand gee-hawed by Dunc. Cameron; so when the old Gov. threatened to dockme for being full, I just kicked up my heels and came. But say! I didn'tthink you would, Gillespie!"
"No?" said I, keeping my own counsel and waiting for the Nor'-Westdeserter to proceed.
"What 'd y' do it for, Gillespie? You're as sober as cold water! Was itold Cameron?"
"You're not talking straight, babe," said I. "You know Cameron doesn'tnag his men. What did _you_ do it for?"
"Eh?" and the lad gave a laugh over my challenge of his veracity. "Seehere, old pal, I'll tell you if you tell me."
"Go ahead with your end of the contract!"
"Well, then, look here. We're not in this wilderness for glory. I knockdown to the highest bidder----"
"Hudson's Bay is _not_ the highest bidder."
"Not unless you happen to have information they want."
"Oh! That's the way of it, is it?" So the boy was selling Nor'-Westers'secrets.
"You can bet your last beaver-skin it is! Do you think I was oldCam's private secretary for nothin'? Not I! I say--get your waresas you may and sell 'em to the highest bidder. So here I am, snuglyberthed, with nothing to do but twiddle my thumbs, all throughjudicious--distribution--of--information." And the boy gurgled withpleasure over his own cleverness. "And say, Gillespie, I'm in regularclover! The Little Statue's here, all alone! Dad's gone to Pembina tothe buffalo hunt. I've got ahead of all you fellows. I'm going tointroduce a French-chap, a friend of mine."
"You'd much better break his bones," was my advice. It needed no greatspeculation to guess who the Frenchman was; and in the hands of thatcrafty rake this prattling babe would be as putty.
"Pah! You're jealous, Gillespie! We're right on the inside track!"
"Lots of confidential talks with her, I suppose?"
"Talks! Pah! You gross fatty! Why, Gillespie, what do you know of suchthings? Laplante can win a girl by just looking at her--French way, youknow--he can pose better than a poem!"
"Blockhead," I ground out between my teeth, a feeling taking possessionof me, which is designated "indignation" in the first person butjealousy in the second and third. "You stupid simpleton, that Laplanteis a villain who will turn your addled pate and work you as an old wifekneads dough."
"What do you know about Laplante?" he demanded hotly.
"I know he is an accomplished blackguard," I answered quietly, "and ifyou want to spoil your chances with the Little Statue, just prance roundin his company."
The lad was too much surprised to speak.
"Where's Hamilton?" I asked.
"Find him for yourself," said he, going off in a huff.
I edged cautiously near enough the wounded man to see that he was notHamilton. Near the litter was a group of clerks.
"They're fools," one clerk was informing the others. "Cameron sent wordhe'd have McDonell dead or alive. If he doesn't give himself up, thisfort'll go and the whole settlement be massacred."
"Been altogether too high-handed anyway," answered another. "I'm loyalto my company; but Lord Selkirk can't set up a military despotism here.Been altogether better if we'd left the Nor'-Westers alone."
"It's all the fault of that cocky little martinet," declared a third.
"I say," exclaimed a man joining the group, "d' y' hear the news? Allthe chiefs in there--" jerking his thumb towards a side door--"areadvising Captain McDonell to give himself up and save the fort."
"Good thing. Who'll miss him? He'll only get a free trip to Montreal,"remarked one of the aggressives in this group. "I tell you, men, bothcompanies have gone a deal too far in this little slap-back game to bekeen for legal investigation. Why, at Souris, everybody knows----"
He lowered his voice and I unconsciously moved from my dark corner tohear the rest.
"Hoo are ye, gillie?" said the burly Scot in my ear.
Turning, I found the canny swain had followed me on an investigatingtour. Again I gave him an inarticulate reply and lost myself among othercoteries. Was the man spying on me? I reflected that if "the chiefs"--asthe Hudson's Bay man had called them--were in the side room, EricHamilton would be among these conferring with the governor. As Iapproached the door, I noticed my Scotch friend had taken some one intohis confidence and two men were now on my tracks. Lifting the latch, Igave a gentle, cautious push and the hinges swung so quietly I hadslipped into the room before those inside or out could prevent me. Ifound myself in the middle of a long apartment with low, slopingceiling, and deep window recesses. It had evidently been partitioned offfrom the main hall; for the wall, ceiling and floor made an exacttriangle. At one end of the place was a table. Round this was a group ofmen deeply engrossed in some sort of conference. Sitting on the windowsills and lounging round the box stove behind the table were others ofour rival's service. I saw at once it would be difficult to have accessto Hamilton. He was lying on a stretcher within talking range of thetable and had one arm in a sling. Now, I hold it is harder for theunpractised man to play the spy with everything in his favor, than forthe adept to act that role against the impossible. One is without theart that foils detection. The other can defy detection. So I stoodinside with my hand on the door lest the click of the closing latchshould rouse attention, but had no thought of prying into Hudson's Baysecrets.
"Your Honor
," began Hamilton in a lifeless manner, which told me hissearch had been bootless, and he turned languidly towards a puffy,crusty, military gentleman, whom, from the respect shown him, I judgedto be Governor McDonell. "Duncan Cameron's warrant for the arrest isperfectly legal. If Your Honor should surrender yourself, you will saveFort Douglas for the Hudson's Bay Company. Besides, the whole arrestwill prove a farce. The law in Lower Canada provides no machinery forthe trial of cases occurring----" Here Hamilton came to a blank andunexpected stop, for his eyes suddenly alighted on me with a look thatforbade recognition, and fled furtively back to the group it the table.I understood and kept silent.
"For the trial of cases occurring?" asked the governor sharply.
"Occurring--here," added Hamilton, shooting out the last word as if hisarm had given him a sudden twinge. "And so I say, Your Honor will losenothing by giving yourself up to the Nor'-Westers, and will save FortDouglas for the Hudson's Bay."
"The doctor tells me it's a compound fracture. You'll find it painful,Mr. Hamilton," said Governor McDonell sympathetically, and he turned tothe papers over which the group were conferring. "I'm no great hand inwinning victories by showing the white flag," began the gallant captain,"but if a free trip from here to Montreal satisfies those fools, I'llgo."
"Well said! Bravo! Your Honor," exclaimed a shaggy member of thecouncil, bringing his fist down on the table with a thud. "I call thatdiplomacy, outmanoeuvring the enemy! Your Honor sets an example forabiding by the law; you obey the warrant. They must follow the exampleand leave Fort Douglas alone."
"Besides, I can let His Lordship know from Montreal just whatreinforcements are needed here," continued Captain McDonell, with acurious disregard for the law which he professed to be obeying, and afaithful zeal for Lord Selkirk.
Hamilton was looking anxiously at me with an expression of warning whichI could not fully read. Then I felt, what every one must have felt atsome time, that a third person was watching us both. Following Eric'sglance to a dark window recess directly opposite the door where I stood,I was horrified and riveted by the beady, glistening, insolent eyes ofLouis Laplante, gazing out of the dusk with an expression of rakishamusement, the amusement of a spider when a fly walks into its web.Taken unawares I have ever been more or less of what Mr. Jack MacKenziewas wont to call "a stupid loon!" On discovering Laplante I promptlysustained my reputation by letting the door fly to with a sharp clickthat startled the whole room-full. Whereat Louis Laplante gave a low,soft laugh.
"What do you want here, man?" demanded Governor McDonell's sharp voice.
Jerking off my cap, I saluted.
"My man, Your Honor," interjected Eric quietly. "Come here, Rufus," hecommanded, motioning me to his side with the hauteur of a master towardsa servant. And Louis Laplante rose and tip-toed after me with a tigerishmalice that recalled the surly squaw.
"Oh, Eric!" I cried out eagerly. "Are you hurt, and at such a time?"Unconsciously I was playing into Louis' hands, for he stood by thestove, laughing nonchalantly.
Thereupon Eric ground out some imprecation at my stupidity.
"There's been a shuffling of allegiance, I hear," he said with a queermisleading look straight at Laplante. "We've recruits from FortGibraltar."
Eric's words, curiously enough, banished triumph from Laplante's faceand the Frenchman's expression was one of puzzled suspicion. From Eric'simpassive features, he could read nothing. What Hamilton was driving at,I should presently learn; but to find out I would no more take my eyesfrom Laplante's than from a tiger about to spring. At once, to get myattention, Hamilton brought a stick down on my toes with a sharpnessthat made me leap. By all the codes of nudges and kicks and suchsignaling, it is a principle that a blow at one end of human anatomydrives through the density of the other extremity. It dawned on me thatEric was trying to persuade Laplante I had deserted Nor'-Westers for theHudson's Bay. The ethics of his attempt I do not defend. It was afterthe facile fashion of an intriguing era. A sharper weapon was presentlygiven us against Louis Laplante; for when I grasped Eric's stick to staythe raps against my feet, I felt the handle rough with carving.
"What are these carvings, may I inquire, Sir?" I asked, assuming thestrangeness, which Eric's signals had directed, but never moving my eyesfrom Laplante. The villain who had befooled me in the gorge and eludedme in the forest, and now tormented Frances Sutherland, winced under mywatchfulness.
"The carvings!" answered Eric, annoyed that I did not return his plainsignals and determined to get my eye. "Pray look for yourself! Where areyour eyes?"
"I can't see in this poor light, Sir; but I also have a strangely carvedthing--a spear-head. Now if this head has no handle and this handle hasno head--they might fit," I went on watching Laplante, whose saucyassurance was deserting him.
"Spear-head!" exclaimed Hamilton, beginning to understand I too had mydesign. "Where did you find it?"
"Trying to bury itself in my head." I returned. At this, Laplante, theknave, smiled graciously in my very face.
"But it didn't succeed?" asked Hamilton.
"No--it mistook me for a tree, missed the mark and went into the tree;just as another friend of mine mistook me for a tree, hit the mark andran into me," and I smiled back at Laplante. His face clouded. Thatreference to the scene on the beach, where his Hudson's Bay despatcheswere stolen, was too much for his hot blood. "Here it is," I continued,pulling the spear-head out of my plaid. I had brought it to Hamilton,hoping to identify our enemy, and we did. "Please see if they fit, Sir?We might identify our--friends!" and I searched the furtive, guilty eyesof the Frenchman.
"Dat frien'," muttered Louis with a threatening look at me, "dat frien'of Mister Hamilton he spike good English for Scot' youth."
Now Louis, as I remembered from Laval days, never mixed his English andFrench, except when he was in passion furious beyond all control.
"Fit!" cried Hamilton. "They're a perfect fit, and both carved the same,too."
"With what?"
"Eagles," answered Eric, puzzled at my drift, and Louis Laplante worethe last look of the tiger before it springs.
"And eagles," said I, defying the spring, "signify that both thespear-head and the spear-handle belong to the Sioux chief whosedaughter"--and I lowered my voice to a whisper which only Laplante andHamilton could hear--"is married--to Le--Grand--Diable!"
"What!" came Hamilton's low cry of agony. Forgetting the fractured arm,he sprang erect.
And Louis Laplante staggered back in the dark as if we had struck him.
"Laplante! Laplante! Where's that Frenchman? Bring him up here!" calledGovernor McDonell's fussy, angry tones.
Coming when it did, this demand was to Louis a bolt of judgment; and hejoined the conference with a face as gray as ashes.
"Now about those stolen despatches! We want to know the truth! Were youdrunk, or were you not? Who has them?" Captain McDonell arraigned theFrenchman with a fire of questions that would have confused any otherculprit but Louis.
"Eric," I whispered, taking advantage of the respite offered by Louis'examination. "We found Laplante at _Pointe a la Croix_. He was drunk. Heconfessed Miriam is held by Diable's squaw. Then we discovered someonewas listening to the confession and pursued the eavesdropper into thebush. When we came back, Laplante had been carried off. I found one ofmy canoemen had your lost fowling-piece, and it was he who had listenedand carried off the drunk sot and tried to send that spear-head into meat the Sault. 'Twas Diable, Eric! Father Holland, a priest in ourcompany, told me of the white woman on Lake Winnipeg. Did you findthis--" indicating the spear handle--"there?"
Eric, cold, white and trembling, only whispered an affirmative.
"Was that all?"
"All," he answered, a strange, fierce look coming over his face, as thefull import of my news forced home on him. "Was--was--Laplante--inthat?" he asked, gripping my arm in his unwounded hand with forebodingforce.
"Not that we know of. Only Diable. But Louis is friendly with the Sioux,and if we only keep him in sight we may t
rack them."
"I'll--keep--him--in sight," muttered Hamilton in low, slow words.
"Hush, Eric!" I whispered. "If we harm him, he may mislead us. Let uswatch him and track him!"
"He's asking leave to go trapping in the Sioux country. Can you go astrader for your people? To the buffalo hunt first, then, south? I'llwatch here, if he stays; you, there, if he goes, and he shall tell usall he knows or--"
"Hush, man," I urged. "Listen!"
"Where," Governor McDonell was thundering at Laplante, "where are theparties that stole those despatches?"
The question brought both Hamilton and myself to the table. We wentforward where we could see Laplante's face without being seen by hisquestioners.
"If I answer, Your Honor," began the Frenchman, taking the captain'sbluster for what it was worth and holding out doggedly for his ownrights, "I'll be given leave to trap with the Sioux?"
"Certainly, man. Speak out."
"The parties--that stole--those despatches," Laplante was answeringslowly. At this stage he looked at his interlocutor as if to questionthe sincerity of the guarantee and he saw me standing screwing thespear-head on the tell-tale handle. I patted the spear-head, smiledblandly back, and with my eyes dared him to go on. He paused, bit hislip and flushed.
"No lies, no roguery, or I'll have you at the whipping-post," roared thegovernor. "Speak up. Where are the parties?"
"Near about here," stammered Louis, "and you may ask your newturn-coat."
I was betrayed! Betrayed and trapped; but he should not go free! I wouldhave shouted out, but Hamilton's hand silenced me.
"Here!" exclaimed the astounded governor. "Go call that youngNor'-Wester! If _he_ backs up y'r story, _he_ was Cameron's secretary,you can go to the buffalo hunt."
That response upset Louis' bearings. He had expected the governor wouldrefer to me; but the command let him out of an awkward place and hedarted from the room, as Hamilton and I supposed,--simpletons that wewere with that rogue!--to find the young Nor'-Wester. This turn ofaffairs gave me my chance. If the young Nor'-Wester and Laplante cametogether, my disguise as Highlander and turn-coat would be stripped fromme and I should be trapped indeed.
"Good-by, old boy!" and I gripped Hamilton's hand. "If he stays, he'syour game. When he goes, he's mine. Good luck to us both! You'll comesouth when you're better."
Then I bolted through the main hall thinking to elude the canny Scots,but saw both men in the stairway waiting to intercept me. When I randown a flight of side stairs, they dashed to trap me at the gate. At thedoorway a man lounged against me. The lantern light fell on a pointedbeard. It was Laplante, leaning against the wall for support and shakingwith laughter.
"You again, old tombstone! Whither away so fast?" and he made to holdme. "I'm in a hurry myself! My last night under a roof, ha! ha! Waittill I make my grand farewell! We both did well, did the grand, ho! ho!But I must leave a fair demoiselle!"
"Let go," and I threw him off.
"Take that, you ramping donkey, you Anglo-Saxon animal," and he aimed akick in my direction. Though I could ill spare the time to do it, Iturned. All the pent-up strength, from the walk with Frances Sutherlandrushed into my clenched fist and Louis Laplante went down with a thudacross the doorway. There was the sish-rip of a knife being thrustthrough my boot, but the blade broke and I rushed past the prostrateform.
Certain of waylaying me, the Scots were dodging about the gate; but byrunning in the shadow of the warehouse to the rear of the court, I gaveboth the slip. I had no chance to reconnoitre, but dug my hunting-knifeinto the stockade, hoisted myself up the wooden wall, got a grip of thetop and threw myself over, escaping with no greater loss than bootspulled off before climbing the palisade, and the Highland cap whichstuck fast to a picket as I alighted below. At dawn, bootless andhatless, I came in sight of Fort Gibraltar and Father Holland, who wasscanning the prairie for my return, came running to greet me.
"The tip-top o' the mornin' to the renegade! I thought ye'd beenscalped--and so ye have been--nearly--only they mistook y'r hat for thewool o' y'r crown. Boots gone too! Out wid your midnight pranks."
A succession of welcoming thuds accompanied the tirade. As breathreturned, I gasped out a brief account of the night.
"And now," he exclaimed triumphantly, "I have news to translate ye to asivinth hiven! Och! But it's clane cracked ye'll be when ye hear it.Now, who's appointed to trade with the buffalo hunters but y'r veryself?"
It was with difficulty I refrained from embracing the bearer of suchgood tidings.
"Be easy," he commanded. "Ye'll need these demonstrations, I'mthinkin'--huntin' one lass and losin' y'r heart to another."
We arranged he should go to Fort Douglas for Frances Sutherland and Iwas to set out later. They were to ride along the river-path south ofthe forks where I could join them. I, myself, picked out and paid fortwo extra horses, one a quiet little cayuse with ambling action, theother, a muscular broncho. I had the satisfaction of seeing FatherHolland mounted on the latter setting out for Fort Douglas, while theIndian pony wearing an empty side-saddle trotted along in tow.
The information I brought back from Fort Douglas delayed any morehostile demonstrations against the Hudson's Bay. That very morning,before I had finished breakfast, Governor McDonell rode over to FortGibraltar, and on condition that Fort Douglas be left unmolested gavehimself up to the Nor'-Westers. At noon, when I was riding off to thebuffalo hunt and the Missouri, I saw the captain, smiling and debonair,embarking--or rather being embarked--with North-West brigades, to besent on a free trip two thousand five hundred miles to Montreal.
"A safe voyage to ye," said Duncan Cameron, commander of Nor'-Westers,as the ex-governor of Red River settled himself in a canoe. "A safevoyage to ye, mon!"
"And a prosperous return," was the ironical answer of the dauntlessruler over the Hudson's Bay.
"Sure now, Rufus," said Father Holland to me a year afterwards, "'twas aprosperous return he had!"
Fortunately, I had my choice of scouts, and, by dangling the prospectsof a buffalo hunt before La Robe Noire and Little Fellow, tempted themto come with me.
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