Lords of the North

by Agnes C. Laut

  CHAPTER XXI

  LOUIS PAYS ME BACK

  What tempted me to moor opposite the ruins of Fort Gibraltar? Whattempts the fly into the spider's web and the fish with a wide ocean forplay-ground into one small net? I know there is a consoling fashion ofascribing our blunders to the inscrutable wisdom of a long-sufferingProvidence; but common-sense forbids I should call evil good, deify myerrors, and give thanks for what befalls me solely through my own fault.

  Bare posts hacked to the ground were all that remained of FortGibraltar's old wall. I had not gone many paces across the formercourtyard, when voices sounded from the gravel-pit that had once doneduty as a cellar. The next thing I noticed was the shaggy face of LouisLaplante bobbing above the ground. With other vagabond wanderers, theFrenchman had evidently been rummaging old Nor'-West vaults.

  "Tra-la, comrade," he shouted, leaping out of the cellar as soon as hesaw me. "I, Louis Laplante, son of a seigneur, am resurrecting. I was aPlante! Now I'm a _Louis d'or_, fresh coined from the golden vein ofdazzling wit. Once we were men, but they drowned us in a wine-barrellike your lucky dog of an English prince. Now we're earth-goblinsre-incarnate! Behold gnomes of the mine! Knaves of the nethermostdepths, tra-la! Vampires that suck the blood of whisky-cellars and floatto the skies with dusky wings and dizzy heads! Laugh with us, oldsolemncholy! See the ground spin! Laugh, I say, or be a hitching-post,and we'll dance the May-pole round you! We're vampires, comrade, andyou're our cousin, for you're a bat," and Louis applauded his joke withloud, tipsy laughter and staggered up to me drunk as a lord. His heavybreath and bloodshot eyes testified what he had found under the rubbishheaps of Fort Gibraltar's cellar. Embracing me with the affection of along-lost brother, he rattled on with a befuddled, meaningless jargon.

  "So the knife cut well, did it? And the Sioux did not eat you by inches,beginning with your thumbs? Ha! Tres bien! Very good taste! You were notmeant for feasts, my solemncholy? Some men are monuments. That's you,mine frien'! Some are champagne bottles that uncork, zip, fizz, froth,stars dancing round your head! That's me! 'Tis I, Louis Laplante, son ofa seigneur, am that champagne bottle!"

  Pausing for breath, he drew himself erect with ridiculous pomposity. Nowthere are times when the bravest and wisest thing a brave and wise mancan do is take to his heels. I have heard my Uncle Jack MacKenzie saythat vice and liquor and folly are best frustrated by flight; and allthree seemed to be embodied in Louis Laplante that night. A stupid sortof curiosity made me dally with the mischief brewing in him, just as thefly plays with the spider-web, or the fish with a baited hook.

  "There's a fountain-spout in Nor'-West vaults for those who know whereto tap the spigot, eh, Louis?" I asked.

  "I'm a Hudson's Bay man and to the conqueror comes the tribute,"returned Louis, sweeping me a courtly bow.

  "I hope such a generous conqueror draws all the tribute he deserves. Doyou remember how you saved my life twice from the Sioux, Louis?"

  "Generous," shouted the Frenchman, drawing himself up proudly, "generousto mine enemy, always magnificent, grand, superb, as becomes the son ofa seigneur! Now I pay you back, rich, well, generous."

  "Nonsense, Louis," I expostulated. "'Tis I who am in your debt. I oweyou my life twice over. How shall I pay you?" and I made to go down tomy canoe.

  "Pay me?" demanded Louis, thrusting himself across my path in a menacingattitude. "Stand and pay me like a man!"

  "I am standing," I laughed. "Now, how shall I pay you?"

  "Strike!" ordered Louis, launching out a blow which I barely missed."Strike, I say, for kicking me, the son of a seigneur, like a pig!"

  At that, half a dozen more drunken vagabonds of the Hudson's Bay servicereeled up from the cellar pit; and I began to understand I was in for asmuch mischief as a young man could desire. The fellows were about us ina circle, and now, that it was too late, I was quite prepared like thefly and the fish to seek safety in flight.

  "Sink his canoe," suggested one; and I saw that borrowed craft swamped.

  "Strike! _Sacredie!_ I pay you back generous," roared Louis. "How can I,Louis Laplante, son of a seigneur, strike a man who won't hit back?"

  "And how can I strike a man who saved my life?" I urged, trying tomollify him. "See here, Louis, I'm on a message for my company to-night.I can't wait. Some other day you can pay me all you like--not to-night,some-other-time----"

  "Some-oder-time! No--never! Some-oder-time--'tis the way I pay my owndebts, always some-oder-time, and I never not pay at all. You nosome-oder-time me, comrade! Louis knows some-oder-time too well! He quithis cups some-oder-time and he never quit, not at all! He quit wildIndian some-oder-time, and he never quit, not at all! And he go home andsay his confess to the cure some-oder-time, and he never go, not at all!And he settle down with a wife and become a grand seigneursome-oder-time, and he never settle down at all!"

  "Good night, Laplante! I have business for the company. I must go," Iinterrupted, trying to brush through the group that surrounded us.

  "So have we business for the company, the Hudson's Bay Company, and youcan't go," chimed in one of the least intoxicated of the rival trappers;and they closed about me so that I had not striking room.

  "Are you men looking for trouble?" I asked, involuntarily fingering mypistol belt.

  "No--we're looking for the Nor'-West brigade billed to pass from FortWilliam to Athabasca," jeered the boldest of the crowd, a red-faced,middle-aged man with blear eyes. "We're looking for the Nor'-Westers'express," and he laughed insolently.

  "You don't expect to find our brigades in Fort Gibraltar's cellar," saidI, backing away from them and piecing this latest information to what Ihad already heard of plots and conspiracies.

  Forthwith I felt strong hands gripping both my arms like a vise and thecoils of a rope were about me with the swiftness of a lasso. My firstimpulse was to struggle against the outrage; but I was beginning tolearn the service of open ears and a closed mouth was often morevaluable than a fighter's blows. Already I had ascertained from theirown lips that the Hudson's Bay intended to molest our north-boundbrigade.

  "Well," said I, with a laugh, which surprised the rascals mightily, "nowyou've captured your elephant, what do you propose to do with him?"

  Without answering, the men shambled down to the landing place of thefort, jostling me along between the red-faced man and Louis Laplante.

  "I consider this a scurvy trick, Louis," said I. "You've let me into apretty scrape with your idiotic heroics about paying back a fanciedgrudge. To save a mouse from the tigers, Louis, and then feed him toyour cats! Fie, man! I like your son-of-a-seigneur ideas of honor!"

  "Ingrate! Low-born ingrate," snapped the Frenchman, preparing to strikeone of his dramatic attitudes, "if I were not the son of a seigneur, andyou a man with bound arms, you should swallow those words," and hesquared up to me for a second time. "If you won't fight, you shan't runaway----"

  "Off with your French brag," ordered the soberest of the Hudson's Baymen, catching Louis by the scruff of his coat and spinning him out ofthe way. "There'll be neither fighting nor running away. It is to FortDouglas we'll take our fine spy."

  The words stung, but I muffled my indignation.

  "I'll go with pleasure," I returned, thinking that Frances Sutherlandand Hamilton and Father Holland were good enough company to compensatefor any captivity. "With pleasure, and 'tis not the first time I'll havefound friends in the Hudson's Bay fort."

  At that speech, the red-faced man, who seemed to be the ringleader, eyedme narrowly. We all embarked on a rickety raft, that would, I declare,have drowned any six sober men who risked their lives on it; but drunkmen and children seem to do what sober, grown folk may not are.

  How Louis Laplante was for fighting a duel _en route_ with the man, whospoke of "French brag" and was only dissuaded from his purpose by theraft suddenly teetering at an angle of forty-five degrees with thewater, which threatened to toboggan us all into mid-river; how I wasthen stationed in the centre and the other men distributed equally oneach si
de of the raft to maintain balance; how we swung out into theRed, rocking with each shifting of the crew and were treated to a volleyof objurgations from the red-faced man--I do not intend to relate. Thissort of melodrama may be seen wherever there are drunken men, a raft anda river. The men poled only fitfully, and we were driven solely by thecurrent. It was dark long before we had neared Fort Douglas and thewaters swished past with an inky, glassy sheen that vividly recalled themurky pool about the beaver-dam. And yet I had no fear, but driftedalong utterly indifferent to the termination of the freakish escapade inwhich I had become involved. Nature mercifully sets a limit to humancapacity for suffering; and I felt I had reached that limit. Nothingworse could happen than had happened, at least, so I told myself, and Iawaited with cynical curiosity what might take place inside the Hudson'sBay fort. Then a shaft of lantern light pierced the dark, strikingaslant the river, and the men began poling hard for Fort Douglas wharf.We struck the landing with a bump, disembarked, passed the sentinel atthe gate and were at the entrance to the main building.

  "You kick me here," said Louis. "I pay you back here!"

  "What are you going to do with him?" asked the soberest man of thered-faced leader.

  "Hand him over to Governor Semple for a spy."

  "The governor's abed. Besides, they don't want him about to hear H. B.secrets when the Nor'-West brigade's a-coming! You'd better get soberedup, yez hed! That's my advice to yez, before going to Governor Semple,"and the prudent trapper led the way inside. To the fore was the mainstairway, on the right the closed store, and on the left a smallapartment which the governor had fitted up as a private office. For someunaccountable reason--the same reason, I suppose, that mischief isalways awaiting the mischief-maker--the door to this office had beenleft ajar and a light burned inside. 'Twas Louis, ever alert, whenmischief was abroad, who tip-toed over to the open door, poked his headin and motioned his drunken companions across the sacred precincts ofGovernor Semple's private room. I was loath to be a party to this madnonsense, but the fly and the fish should have thought of results beforeventuring too near strange coils. The red-faced fellow gave me a push.The sober man muttered, "Better come, or they'll raise a row," and wewere all within the forbidden place, the door shut and bolted.

  To city folk, used to the luxuries of the east, I dare say that officewould have seemed mean enough. But the men had been so long away fromleather chairs, hair-cloth sofa, wall mirror, wine decanter and otherodds and ends which furnish a gentleman's living apartments that thevery memory of such things had faded, and that small room, with itsold-country air, seemed the vestibule to another world.

  "Sump--too--uss--ain't it?" asked the sober man with bated breath andobvious distrust of his tongue.

  "Mag--nee--feque! M. Louis Laplante, look you there," cried theFrenchman, catching sight of his full figure in the mirror and instantlystriking a pose of admiration. Then he twirled fiercely at both ends ofhis mustache till it stood out with the wire finish of a Parisian dandy.

  The red-faced fellow had permitted me, with arms still tied, to walkacross the room and sit on the hair-cloth sofa. He was lolling back inthe governor's armchair, playing the lord and puffing one of Mr.Semple's fine pipes.

  "We are gentlemen adventurers of the ancient and honorable Hudson's BayCompany, gentlemen adventurers," he roared, bringing his fist down witha thud on the desk. "We hereby decree that the Fort William brigade becaptured, that the whisky be freely given to every dry-throated lad inthe Hudson's Bay Company, that the Nor'-Westers be sent down the Red ona raft, that this meeting raftify this dissolution, afterwardsmoving--seconding--and unanimously amending----"

  "Adjourning--you mean," interrupted one of the orator's audience.

  "I say," called one, who had been dazed by the splendor, "how do youtell which is the lookin' glass and which is the window?" And he lookedfrom the window on one side to its exact reflection, length and width,directly opposite.

  The puzzle was left unsolved; for just then Louis Laplante found a flaskof liquor and speedily divided its contents among the crowd--which wasnot calculated to clear up mysteries of windows and mirrors among thoseaddle-pates. Dull wit may be sport for drunken men, but it is mightyflat to an onlooker, and I was out of patience with their carousal.

  "The governor will be back here presently, Louis," said I.

  "Tired of being a tombstone, ha--ha! Better be a champagne bottle!" helaughed with slightly thickened articulation and increased unsteadinessin his gait.

  "If you don't hide that bottle in your hand, there'll be a big head anda sore head for you men to-morrow morning." I rose to try and get themout of the office; but a sober man with tied arms among a drunken crewis at a disadvantage.

  "Ha--old--wise--sh--head! To--be--sh--shure! Whur--d'--y'--hide--it?"

  "Throw it out of the window," said I, without the slightest idea ofleading him into mischief.

  "Whish--whish--ish--the window, Rufush?" asked Louis imploringly.

  The last potion had done its work and Louis was passing from the jovialto the pensive stage. He would presently reach a mood which might beugly enough for a companion in bonds. Was it this prospect, I wonder, orthe mischievous spirit pervading the very air from the time I reachedthe ruins that suggested a way out of my dilemma?

  "Throw it out of the window," said I, ignoring his question and shovinghim off.

  "Whish--ish--the window--dammie?" he asked, holding the bottleirresolutely and looking in befuddled distraction from side to side ofthe room.

  "Thur--both--windows--fur as I see," said the man, who had been sober,but was no longer so.

  "Throw it through the back window! Folks comin' in at the door won't seeit."

  The red-faced man got up to investigate, and all faith in my plan diedwithin me; but the lantern light was dusky and the red-faced man couldno longer navigate a course from window to mirror.

  "There's a winder there," said he, scratching his head and looking atthe window reflected in perfect proportion on the mirrored surface.

  "And there's a winder there," he declared, pointing at the real window."They're both winders and they're both lookin'-glasses, for I see us allin both of them. This place is haunted. Lem-me out!"

  "Take thish, then," cried Louis, shoving the bottle towards him andfloundering across to the door to bar the way. "Take thish, or tell mewhish--ish--the window."

  "Both winders, I tell you, and both lookin'-glasses," vowed the man. Theother four fellows declined to express an opinion for the very goodreason that two were asleep and two befuddled beyond questioning.

  "See here, Louis," I exclaimed, "there's only one way to tell where tothrow that bottle."

  "Yesh, Rufush," and he came to me as if I were his only friend on earth.

  "The bottle will go through the window and it won't go through themirror," I began.

  "Dammie--I knew that," he snapped out, ready to weep.

  "Well--you undo these things," nodding to the ropes about my arms, "andI'll find out which opens, and the one that opens is the window, and youcan throw out the bottle."

  "The very thing, Rufush, wise--sh--head--old--old--ol' solemncholy," andhe ripped the ropes off me.

  Now I offer no excuse for what I did. I could have opened that windowand let myself out some distance ahead of the bottle, without involvingLouis and his gang in greater mischief. What I did was not out of spiteto the governor of a rival company; but mischief, as I said, was in thevery air. Besides, the knaves had delayed me far into midnight, and Ihad no scruples about giving each twenty-four hours in the fortguardroom. I took a precautionary inspection of the window-sash. Yes, Iwas sure I could leap through, carrying out sash and all.

  "Hurry--ol' tombshtone--governor--sh-comin'," urged Louis.

  I made towards the window and fumbled at the sash.

  "This doesn't open," said I, which was quite true, for I did not try tobudge it. Then I went across to the mirror. "Neither does this," said I.

  "Wha'--wha'--'ll--we do--Rufush?"

>   "I'll tell you. You can jump through a window but not through a glass.Now you count--one two--three,"--this to the red-faced man--"and whenyou say 'three' I'll give a run and jump. If I fall back, you'll knowit's the mirror, and fling the bottle quick through the other. Ready,count!"

  "One," said the red-faced man.

  Louis raised his arm and I prepared for a dash.

  "Two!"

  Louis brought back his arm to gain stronger sweep.

  "Three!"

  I gave a leap and made as though I had fallen back. There was thepistol-shot splintering of bottle and mirror crashing down to the floor.The window frame gave with a burst, and I was outside rushing past thesleepy sentinel, who poured out a volley of curses after me.