"In ten minutes," said he, "we shall reach the largest lake about here, and at this season we can skirt along its banks instead of having to go over yonder hill--no light task after the close of such a march as we have had to-day." As he spoke, a form was seen bounding towards them with the swiftness of a young roe; both stopped amazed, as Amoahmeh sprang forward, and laying her hand on Boulanger"s arm, pointed with the other towards the leaf-covered ground, and uttered the single word "Iroquois."
Isidore of course saw nothing, but the practised eye of the Canadian was not slow, now that his attention had been roused, to detect the trail of footsteps that had crossed their track. "The girl is right,"
said he, after a rapid but close inspection of them, "and take my word for it, it is the trail of our old friend of the b.u.t.ton-tree. Yes, he has been tracking us all the way. Now, look at that! The child came upon it this morning, and has followed it; she has caught him up, and has come to warn us of----"
Here Amoahmeh placed her finger on her lips, and made a gesture of impatience.
"Right, child," said Boulanger. "To think now that a bit of a girl like this should have to teach me to keep my tongue from wagging too loud."
"But what are we to do?" asked Isidore, somewhat bewildered by all this.
"Do!" repeated the guide. "Well, we had better leave that to her.
Questions would only puzzle her poor brain, whereas it is clear she has still got all the red skin"s cunning, and won"t let any harm befall you at any rate."
Probably Amoahmeh understood the expression of his face better than his words. At all events she took upon herself at once the office of guide, and beckoning to them to follow her turned off from the direction they had been taking and led them into the wood. In a few minutes they found themselves on the borders of a creek, scarcely a dozen yards from the point where it ran into a lake of great extent, and there, to their surprise, Amoahmeh pointed out two or three canoes which had evidently been purposely drawn up under some overhanging bushes, so as to escape the possibility of being observed either from the forest or the lake.
By this time a perfect understanding had been established between Boulanger and their new guide, and they seemed to need a few signs only to express their meaning. A good many whispers, however, were necessary in order to make Isidore crouch down in the middle of the largest canoe without upsetting the frail craft, but as soon as he had done so his companions stepped lightly in, one at each end, and the next moment they were silently paddling out into the lake.
Again Boulanger made a sign; stealthily they paddled back, and the Canadian reached over into the other canoes in succession, and with a few strokes of his Indian knife ripped them up after a fashion that did away with all chance of pursuit from that quarter; this done, they once more regained the lake.
After pausing for a few seconds to listen, Boulanger and the girl, as if with one consent, drove the canoe close under the bushes that fringed the bank and here and there hung down and dipped their long branches in the water. Isidore"s impatience and curiosity now became so great, and his sense of his own rather undignified position so galling, that he was just about to a.s.sert some kind of right to know what and whereabouts the danger might be, when he was stopped by the sound of voices upon the bank at no great distance from them. A few more strokes of the stealthy paddles and the voices were distinctly within hearing.
"And I say," exclaimed some one in English, "that I am not going to stay out here all night on such a wild-goose chase."
"Nor I," said another. "You, Master Kirby, may stop here with them that will; some of us have sorrow and trouble enough at our own doors that call us home instead of loitering here. Besides, who knows that the whole thing isn"t a lie of this red scoundrel"s after all?"
"You placed yourself under my orders, and I bid you stop here," replied a firm voice. "The Indian"s story was clear enough as he told it at first, before you were such fools as to let him get dead drunk after his hard run. What more likely than that Oswego has been taken by that rascally Montcalm, or that he should send important despatches across country this way? I know this Indian fellow well: he is trustworthy enough when sober, and he says he not only saw the French officer and his guide start from Oswego after the disaster there, but left them not two hours ago on a path that must bring them either along here or take them over the hill, in which latter case they will fall into Tyler"s hands."
As these various views and opinions were uttered the canoe was gliding along within a couple of feet of the bank, stealthily indeed and with diminished speed, lest the mere splash of the paddle should give the alarm. The bank was for the most part steep enough to afford complete concealment from any one at a short distance from the edge. It had just pa.s.sed the spot, and was drawing away from the voices, when it suddenly stopped and swung round. But for a dexterous stroke of Boulanger"s paddle it must have turned over, for it had come right across a long bramble that had become submerged.
"What was that?" exclaimed one of the New England men; "it sounded like a paddle."
"Sounded like a fiddlestick!" replied another; "you with your sharp ears are always hearing something that n.o.body else can, Master d.i.c.k."
"Well, I am not going to stop here any longer," said the first speaker.
"We know that the Commandant of Fort Chambly has pushed forward detachments in this direction, and "tis my belief that if we don"t clear out, instead of shooting these Frenchmen and sending their despatches to the General at New York, we may get shot ourselves, or be taken and sent off to Montreal."
By this time Boulanger, feeling cautiously over the side, had come across the bramble that had stopped their course; his knife was through it in a moment and the canoe swung clear.
"Hush! I"ll swear I heard a paddle this time, say what you like,"
cried the former speaker. "Run one of you to the creek and see that the canoes are all safe."
What else he may have said died away in the distance as the frail barque that carried Isidore and his companions stole swiftly away, and soon afterwards rounded a small headland and took to the open waters.
"All safe!" cried Boulanger. "Half an hour will bring us across to a point they could not reach on foot in three hours at least. We are out of rifle shot already, even if they should see us; so take it easy a little, my brave girl, whilst I look about and get my bearings all right."
Just for a moment the evening breeze wafted towards them a faint sound as of men shouting; then a shot was fired, but after that all became still. In half an hour they had crossed the lake, and on landing the guide ordered a halt and produced their supper.
"Our friends from Chambly are pretty certain to have reached St. Michel by this time if they are really moving in this direction," said Boulanger, as he shared the provisions among them. "We will rest a bit here and then push on; in any case there is, or used to be, an Indian settlement there, where we can take up our quarters for the night."
"Thank Heaven for that, on this poor child"s account," replied Isidore.
"From what you have told me I hope that her misfortunes will ensure her safety with any tribe of friendly Indians."
"Undoubtedly; but we will not talk of that now, nor think about it just yet, monsieur," whispered the guide, "or she will read it in our faces that we want to get rid of her, which may make the thing not quite so easy."
On starting again, to Isidore"s great surprise, the guide quietly shouldered the canoe and marched off with it, though he subsequently allowed both Isidore and Amoahmeh to a.s.sist him in carrying it. A short hour"s march brought them to another creek sufficiently large to float their skiff, and soon afterwards they came upon a second lake, which they traversed from end to end. Then, as they neared the sh.o.r.e, Isidore"s ears were greeted by a well-known and most welcome sound--the challenge of a French sentinel. They had come upon the detachment sent out from Fort Chambly.
Great was the surprise of the French officer, who was in command of the little force, on seeing his friend Isidore at such a time and place and in such company. All this was of course quickly explained, and the young soldier and his guide were soon comfortably housed, but not until they had committed poor Amoahmeh, with many an expression of their grat.i.tude for her kindly help, to the care of an Indian family, into whose wigwam she was received with all the awe that her infirmity was sure to command. It may well be believed that after such a day it was not long before all three were asleep and dreaming of old friends and old homes, either amid the grand and gloomy forests of the New World or the sunny slopes and smiling vineyards of the Old.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Tailpiece to Chapter IV]
[Ill.u.s.tration: Headpiece to Chapter V]
CHAPTER V.
At sunrise on the following morning Isidore and his guide started for Chambly. Happily, Amoahmeh was still asleep. Accustomed as she was to the woods, the great distance they had traversed on the preceding day, and perhaps the excitement she had undergone, had told on her slight frame, and nature had insisted on her claim to a longer rest than usual. What the poor child"s feelings may have been when she awoke and found herself once more alone in the world who shall say? Possibly the unwonted exercise of some still active faculties the day before had dulled her sensibility, for outwardly, at least, she seemed to have forgotten all the past, and went about as though she had never known any other home, and as though the strange faces that she saw around her had looked upon her all her life. But the earnest yet plaintively uttered, "Where are they?" no longer fell from her lips. It had been answered, and amid the darkness that enveloped that young loving soul, it may well be that there was one glimmering ray of light that kept some smouldering embers of reason still alive.
Isidore"s mission was completed without further adventure, and after delivering his despatches at Chambly, and reporting to the commandant the particulars he had noted on his way thither, in conformity with General Montcalm"s directions, he was ordered to proceed to Quebec on another service. This journey, although of about the same length as the previous one, was a much more easy affair, and was performed by water. Boulanger, however, who was now on his way home, still acted as guide, and day by day won more and more upon Isidore by his readiness and intelligence, and probably--though the young marquis might have been unwilling to own it--by his honest frankness and his outspoken dislike of everything mean and underhand. Even his remarks on pa.s.sing events were listened to with a forbearance which they would hardly have met with from the Isidore de Beaujardin of a week ago.
In a few days Isidore and his guide reached Quebec, and there, notwithstanding the little occasional skirmishes that had taken place between them, they parted with regret, and with cordial expressions of good-will. The young soldier had had opportunity enough to see and appreciate the honest character of the Canadian, whilst the latter had been still more struck with the condescension as well as by the courage and endurance of the young n.o.ble, of whose high rank he was well aware, and whose almost necessarily courteous manner, even to his inferiors, formed a strong contrast to the overbearing and arbitrary behaviour of the Government officials with whom he generally had to deal.
Isidore"s first proceeding was to report himself and deliver his despatches, on doing which he learned that although the intelligence of the capture of Oswego had arrived, no details had as yet been received, nor had his uncle, the Baron de Valricour, as yet reached Quebec. It was consequently not without hesitation that he made his way to the house of Madame de Rocheval, the lady with whom the daughter of Captain Lacroix was staying.
Isidore had never seen Marguerite Lacroix, but he took it for granted that it was she who, on his being shown into the drawing-room, rose from her embroidery frame to receive him.
"I am sorry, monsieur," said she, "that Madame de Rocheval is not at home. You have, doubtless, heard that news has been received of General Montcalm"s having captured Oswego. Madame de Rocheval has a brother in one of the regiments about whom she is anxious, and my father, Captain Lacroix, who is quartered at Montreal, has not written either to me or to her for some time, so she has gone to the adjutant"s office to----"
Here she paused; she would probably not have thought it necessary to offer all this explanation, but that her visitor seemed awkward and embarra.s.sed, and she had continued speaking out of politeness. She stopped suddenly on perceiving, with a woman"s quickness, that Isidore was evidently agitated or unwell.
"I beg your pardon, mademoiselle," said he, at last, but not without difficulty, "I have just come from Oswego."
"Indeed! Then you have pa.s.sed through Montreal. Perhaps you have seen my father? He is very intimate with Monsieur de Valricour, who, I believe, is your uncle."
"Yes, yes, that is true, but--I had hoped that you might have already heard--that is, I did not suppose----" here Isidore stopped; and then, as he looked up and saw the half bewildered, half alarmed look that came over her face, he added, scarce audibly, "Now may G.o.d be merciful to you, my dear young lady, for the news that I bring will----"
"My father! my father!" was all that poor Marguerite could utter, as, with hands clasped together, she bent forward in an agony of suspense.
"He is at rest, my dear young lady," said Isidore, with as much calmness as he could command. "He fell in the moment of victory, as a brave soldier like him would wish to do."
Marguerite uttered a cry that went to Isidore"s heart. He stepped forward just in time, for, had he not caught her in his arms, she would have fallen to the ground insensible. At this moment they were joined by Madame de Rocheval, who had returned in haste, having heard in the town the news of Captain Lacroix"s death; the fainting girl was carried to her room, and Isidore, after hurriedly explaining to Madame de Rocheval the circ.u.mstances that had brought him there, quitted the house, promising to call on the following day.
On the morrow letters arrived from the Baron de Valricour, who had come down from Oswego to Montreal, but was compelled to remain there. They contained the news of his friend"s death, and also an a.s.surance of his intention to fulfil the promise which he had given to Marguerite"s father. It remained for Isidore, however, to give to the poor orphan girl that which in this direst of all trials we all so earnestly yearn after, the personal account of one who has himself seen the dear one laid to his last rest, and to present to her the little relic he had himself meant to keep in memory of his fellow-soldier--the blood-stained strip of a flag in which, by Isidore"s directions, they had carried the hero to his grave.