"Then they are both safe?" said the baron, eagerly.
"Yes, she is by this time far on the way to one who will befriend her."
"And he?"
"The great chief of the pale-faced warriors has sent him far away to the fort on the great river where the sun goes down."
"Do you mean to say he went to General Montcalm?" inquired the baron, eagerly. But Amoahmeh, fearful lest she might have said too much, hurriedly drew the veil over her face and only replied, "What should Gabrielle know of him?"
"Well, well," said de Valricour, "I will question you no more, though how you ever came in here and she got out is a mystery to me. But I have other matters to see to, so farewell for the present."
Two little scenes that had taken place within the walls of the fort on the preceding night accounted for the mystery. The clock had not long struck an hour after midnight, when one of the soldiers, who had just been relieved, entered the guard-room well-nigh covered with snow from head to foot, and looking as pale as death.
"You found it cold enough out there to-night, comrade," said one of the men, roused by his entrance; "if it goes on like this we must get half-hour reliefs again, or some of us will be found frozen to death on guard, like poor Jean Maret was last year."
"Cold!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the sentry, "I don"t care for cold, and I would as soon die of frost as see again what I"ve seen to-night."
"What! the black ghost?" inquired the other, but with bated breath.
"Black! I should think not, I"ve heard of that; but if ever there was a white ghost in the world I"ve seen one to-night, flying along over the snow where any human being would have floundered over head and ears, and at last it went over the edge of the fosse, where the fall would have broken any mortal"s neck to a certainty. But lo! before I could look round, there it was again flitting right past me in a whirl of snow, and with a blast that swept me clean off my feet."
"Why didn"t you send a bullet through it?" said his comrade.
"Through it! Yes, that"s just it. Any bullet but a silver one made out of a crown piece cut crosswise would only go _through_ that sort of thing. Who ever heard of killing a ghost? Well, I only came to this horrid place last week, but if things are to go on like this, I shall pitch away my firelock and desert some night."
"Then you had better do it before de Loison goes, Comrade. He is an easy-going fellow enough, and don"t like the bother of catching runaways, and says it is only wasting good cartridges. To-morrow we are to have old Valricour here instead; he is another kind of customer, for though he is as harmless as a baby, and as tender-hearted as a woman off duty, just try your tricks on him, and he will shoot you as soon as look at you."
"I don"t care," replied the other doggedly; "I may as well be shot as frightened to death."
Perhaps a leaden bullet might not have proved quite so harmless as the superst.i.tious sentry had supposed. When the apparition first vanished into the fosse opposite the corner of the fort, Marguerite was asleep, and dreaming that she was once more at Quebec, and listening to Isidore, as he sang that wondrously beautiful air of Stradella"s.
Presently she awoke with a sigh, but only to hear the enchanting melody continued in a low, soft voice. Was she awake, or still asleep?
Hastily raising herself, she beheld, with a feeling of mingled surprise and awe, a tall slim figure clad in white, on which the night lamp cast just light enough to make it stand out from the surrounding gloom. The song ceased, and a chill blast sweeping through the chamber made her shudder. Was it the chill of death?
"Hush, lady! Fear nothing," said the apparition in a low voice. "It is Amoahmeh. Make haste, rise at once; I have come to set you free."
Scarce knowing what she did, Marguerite obeyed the strange bidding.
"Quick, put this on, and draw the hood well round your face," said her visitor, throwing over her the great white mantle. "Monsieur is alive and safe, and you will meet again if you can but escape from here."
By this time Marguerite had somewhat recovered from her amazement, though she could as yet scarcely grasp all the reality of what was pa.s.sing.
"Amoahmeh! Is it indeed you? Merciful Heaven! Is he then really safe?" she added, clasping her bands.
"Quick, quick!" replied Amoahmeh. "This way, through the cas.e.m.e.nt--slip your feet into these, they are no strange things to one who has been so long among us," and with these words she pointed to the snow-shoes which lay just outside the window, already half-hidden by the snow.
Marguerite shrank back alarmed, but Amoahmeh continued--
"Fear nothing, madame; I came up by the drift, which runs right down into the ditch. Turn then to the right, and you will come upon another drift, which will take you out upon the slope. At the foot of it you will find an Indian, who will conduct you to my tribe, and they will conceal you till they can make their way to Boulanger"s cottage, near Quebec. Hasten, I beseech you. There is no time to be lost. If the sentries challenge you, heed them not, but speed on for your life."
"And you!" cried Marguerite; "you cannot follow in your moccasins only, and in that dress you must be seen, and may be fired upon."
"Fear not for me, madame," was the prompt reply. "I am still an Indian girl, and can laugh at any attempt to keep me in such a place as this longer than I choose to stay. Quick, if you would hope over again to see the one you love most dearly."
Scarce daring to breathe, in spite of all her courage, Amoahmeh watched the receding form as, with the parting words, "May Heaven reward you!"
Marguerite pa.s.sed into the raging snow-storm, and was soon lost even to the keen eyes of her deliverer. Still, however, Amoahmeh remained there bending forward, as if to catch some distant sound. At last it came. High even above the roaring and howling of the storm was heard what less practised ears might have taken for the shrill scream of an eagle winging its flight in safety to its nest. Then as she recognised the signal, Amoahmeh closed the cas.e.m.e.nt, drew the black veil around her, and calmly lay down to rest, nor did she wake until she was aroused by the beating of the drums that announced the arrival of the new commandant.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Tailpiece to Chapter IV]
[Ill.u.s.tration: Headpiece to Chapter V]
CHAPTER V.
Six weary and trying months indeed to most of the personages who figure in this narrative were those which came to an end with the close of May, 1759. Even the Baron de Valricour, who always made the best of everything, had grown heartily tired of the forced inaction incidental to the long Canadian winter, when he received a despatch from head-quarters relieving him of his command at Sorel and instructing him to take up a responsible post at Quebec. The despatch was accompanied by a private communication from Montcalm himself, one part of which ran as follows:--
"For these measures, my good old friend and comrade, as well as for any others which may suggest themselves to you, I confidently rely on your well-known zeal and experience. The crisis is indeed a grave one. We have as yet no certainty of any very material aid from France to enable us to carry on the next campaign, which I have reason to know that Pitt intends to prosecute with greater energy than ever. His plan is a grand one, comprising an attack against Niagara, an invasion on the whole line of Lakes George and Champlain, and a combined naval and military expedition against Quebec. The capture of Louisburg and Forts Frontenac and Duquesne last year have given the enemy the command both of the upper and lower lines of water communication, and a great hold over us on the north and west, whilst the support of a population of nearly four hundred thousand in the English American states gives them a formidable advantage in the south. Although some of the states are not a little dissatisfied at the cost entailed on them both in men and money, most of them are evidently ready to make any sacrifices required of them. New France, on the other hand, gives to us but a population of some sixty thousand to draw upon, and of those considered capable of bearing arms we can reckon on only a small proportion as available.
This is a grave disadvantage indeed, where the necessity of carrying all regular troops across the Atlantic makes both sides so largely dependent on their colonial militia, whilst the great conference held by the English with the Indians last autumn has deprived us of the aid of many tribes formerly friendly to us. The situation, however, is not without some favourable features. It is easy enough to sit down and draw great plans, but quite another thing to carry them out within the few months which our summer here affords, and in a country where the distances are so great and the natural obstacles so many and so serious. Amherst is still far from ready, and I doubt his being before Ticonderoga much sooner than the end of July. Desertion, too, is already rife among his troops, and I foresee that it will become still more so. Bourlemaque will have some four thousand good effectives, so that, apart from the possibility of our repeating the success we gained last year, I think we shall not see Amherst on the St. Lawrence before winter sets in again. The fate of this campaign will be decided, not at Niagara or Ticonderoga, but at Quebec."
The baron had read so far with much interest, but calmly and quietly enough. As he went on reading, however, he became more excited, and at last started up with an exclamation of mingled pleasure and surprise.
He was about to quit the apartment, when an orderly came in and informed him that a young person was without and desired urgently to speak with him: "Who is it?" said he. "I am particularly engaged just now." Whilst he was still speaking a female entered the room, and the orderly, after a moment"s hesitation, retired and left them alone.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" inquired the commandant sharply.
"I cannot attend to you now."
But instead of making any reply the intruder flung herself on her knees before him, sobbing convulsively and evidently in great agitation; then as she raised her head the baron stepped back, exclaiming, "Is it possible! Surely it is Marguerite?"
"Yes, it is I," said she, clasping her hands, and looking up to him with streaming eyes. "I cannot bear it longer. Since I left this place I have had no peace. How could I, knowing as I did that I had left one who had risked all for me, to suffer such a dreadful fate? I could not have been so wicked, but for the hope, stronger than all, of again seeing one I loved so dearly; but I have been rightly punished.
Alas! I shall never see him more; but even if it were not so, I could not endure the terrible remorse that my selfishness has caused me. You who have been so kind and n.o.ble-hearted will help me to bear my lot. I have come to give myself up; you will not--you may not refuse me."
He raised her up and embraced her tenderly, but for a minute or two he could not speak for emotion. "My dear, dear child," said he at length, "you have indeed shown yourself the worthy daughter of a most n.o.ble father, and Heaven will reward you for this high-minded and generous act. Nay, I rejoice to say that it has already found its reward.
Listen to this," and then, as she stood wondering before him, he read to her the concluding part of Montcalm"s letter, which ran thus:
"With regard to a more private matter, I rejoice most heartily that my efforts have at last been attended with success. If it has not already reached you, you will shortly receive from Paris an order cancelling the _lettre de cachet_ under which your prisoners G.o.defroid and Gabrielle have been detained. I can sympathise with you in the pleasure this will give you as regards the latter; as to the supposed G.o.defroid of course it matters little beyond the fact that the real object of our solicitude, wherever he may be, is released from the terrible ban involved in the now cancelled warrant. Although many months have elapsed without his making his appearance, I cannot but hope that he is safe, as I may now mention to you in confidence that I sent him, accompanied by the guide Boulanger, to Fort Duquesne in the autumn, and under the peculiar circ.u.mstances many things might occur to prolong his absence."
Well might Isidore"s young wife fall once more upon her knees to pour out her grateful heart in thanksgiving for tidings which changed her sorrow and despair into joy and hope. Her guardian left her thus engaged whilst he sought out Amoahmeh and communicated to her not only the news of her freedom, but that which seemed to touch her far more deeply, Marguerite"s surrender of herself for the purpose of setting her deliverer free.
The two friends were soon locked in each other"s arms, and the baron leaving them together went forth to make the needful arrangements for relinquishing his post and proceeding with them to Quebec.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Tailpiece to Chapter V]