Chapter 10 No.10

A Bit of White Petticoat

We had not advanced above a score of paces when, peering stealthily between the stems of herbs and underbrush, we saw what Gr?l had desired us to see. Two more canoes were drawn up at the water's edge. Four savages were in sight, sprawling in indolent attitudes under the shade of a wide water-maple. In their midst, at the foot of the tree, lay a woman bound securely. She was huddled together in a posture of hopeless despair; and a dishevelled glory of gold-red tresses fell over her face to hide it. She lay in a moveless silence. Yet the sound of weeping continued, and Marc, gripping my hand fiercely, set his mouth to my ear and gasped:-

"'Tis my own maid! 'Tis Prudence!"

Then I saw where she sat, a little apart, a slender maid with a lily face, and hair glowing dark red in the full sun that streamed upon her. She was so tied to another tree that she might have no comfort or companionship of her sister,-for I needed now no telling to convey it to me that the lady with the hidden face and the unweeping anguish was Mistress Mizpah Hanford, mother of the child whom I had just seen carried away.

I grieved for Marc, whose eyes stared out upon the weeping maid from a face that had fallen to the hue of ashes. But I praised the saints for sending to our aid this madman Gr?l,-whom, in my heart, I now graciously absolved from the charge of madness. Seeing the Black Abbé's hand in the ravishment of these tender victims, I made no doubt to cross him yet again, and my heart rose exultantly to the enterprise.

"Cheer up, lad," I whispered to Marc. "Come away a little till we plot."

I showed my confidence in my face, and I could see that he straightway took heart thereat. Falling back softly for a space of several rods, we paused in a thicket to take counsel. As soon as we could speak freely, Marc exclaimed, "They may go at any moment, Father. We must haste."

"No," said I, "they'll not go till the cool of the day. The others went because they have plainly been ordered to part the child from his mother. It is a most cunning and most cruel malice that could so order it."

"It is my enemy's thrust at me," said Marc. "How did he know that I loved the maid?"

"His eyes are in every corner of Acadie," said I; "but we will foil him in this as in other matters. Marc, my heart is stirred mightily by that poor mother's pain. I tell you, lad,"-and I looked diligently to the priming of my pistols as I spoke,-"I tell you I will not rest till I give the little one back into her arms."

But Marc, as was not unnatural, thought now rather of his lily maid sobbing under the tree.

"Yes, Father," said he, "but what is to be done now, to save Prudence and Mizpah?"

"Of course, dear lad," I answered, smilingly, "that is just what we are here for. But let me consider." And sitting down upon a fallen tree, I buried my face in my hands. Marc, the while, waited with what patience he could muster, relying wholly upon my conduct of the business, but fretting for instant action.

We were well armed (each with a brace of pistols and a broadsword, the forest being no place for rapiers), and I accounted that we were an overmatch for the four redskins. But there was much at stake, with always the chance of accident. And, moreover, these Indians were allies of France, wherefore I was most unwilling to attack them from the advantage of an ambush. These various considerations decided me.

"Marc, we'll fight them if needful," said I, lifting up my head. "But I'm going to try first the conclusions of peace. I will endeavour to ransom the prisoners. These Micmacs are mightily avaricious, and may yield. It goes against me to attack them from an ambush, seeing that they are of our party and servants of King Louis."

At this speech Marc looked very ill content.

"But, Father," he objected, "shall we forego the advantage of a surprise? We are but two to their four, and we put the whole issue at hazard. And as for their being of our party, they bring shame upon our party, and greatly dishonour the service of King Louis."

"Nevertheless, dear lad," said I, "they have their claim upon us,-not lightly to be overlooked, in my view of it. But hear my plan. You will go back to where we lay a moment ago, and there be ready with your pistols. I will approach openly by the water side and enter into parley with them. If I can buy the captives, well and good. If they deny me, we quarrel. You will know when to play your part. I am satisfied of that. I shall feel safe under cover of your pistols, and shall depend upon you to account for two of the four. Only, do not be too hasty!"

"Oh, I'm cool as steel now, Father," said Marc. "But I like not this plan. The danger is all yours. And the quarrel is mine. Let us go into it side by side!"

"Chut, lad!" said I. "Your quarrel's my quarrel, and the danger is not more for me than for you, as you won't be long away from me when the fight begins,-if it comes to a fight. And further, my plan is both an honest one and like to succeed. Come, let us be doing!"

Marc seized my hand, and gave me a look of pride and love which put a glow at my heart. "You know best, Father," said he. And turning away, he crept toward his post. For me, I made a circuit, in leisurely fashion, and came out upon the shore behind a point some rods below the spot where the savages lay. Then I walked boldly up along the water's edge.

The Indians heard me before I came in view, and were on their feet when I appeared around the point. They regarded me with black suspicion, but no hostile movement, as I strode straight up to them and greeted, fairly enough but coldly, a tall warrior, whom I knew to be one of the Black Abbé's lieutenants. He grunted, and asked me who I was.

"You know well enough who I am," said I, seating myself carelessly upon a rock, "seeing that you had a chief hand in the outrages put upon me the other day by that rascally priest of yours!"

At this the chief stepped up to me with an air of menace, his high-cheeked, coppery face scowling with wrath. But I eyed him steadily, and raised my hand with a little gesture of authority. "Wait!" said I; and he paused doubtfully. "I have no grudge against you for that," I went on. "You but obeyed your master's orders faithfully, as you will doubtless obey mine a few weeks hence, when I take command of your rabble and try to make you of some real service to the King. I am one of the King's captains."

At this the savage looked puzzled, while his fellows grunted in manifest uncertainty.

"What you want?" he asked bluntly.

I looked at him for some moments without replying. Then I glanced at the form of Mizpah Hanford, still unmoving, the face still hidden under that pathetic splendour of loosened hair. Prudence I could not catch view of, by reason of another tree which intervened. But the sound of her weeping had ceased.

"I am ready to ransom these prisoners of yours," said I.

The savages glanced furtively at each other, but the coppery masks of their features betrayed nothing.

"Not for ransom," said the chief, with a dogged emphasis.

I opened my eyes wide. "You astonish me!" said I. "Then how will they profit you? If you wanted their scalps, those you might have taken at Annapolis."

At that word, revealing that I knew whence they came, I took note of a stir in the silent figure beneath the maple. I felt that her eyes were watching me from behind that sumptuous veil which her bound hands could not put aside. I went on, with a sudden sense of exaltation.

"Give me these prisoners," I urged, half pleading, half commanding. "They are useless to you except for ransom. I will give you more than any one else will give you. Tell me your price."

But the savage was obstinate.

"Not for ransom," he repeated, shaking his head.

"You are afraid of your priest," said I, with slow scorn. "He has told you to bring them to him. And what will you get? A pistole or two for each! But I will give you gold, good French crowns, ten times as much as you ever got before!"

As I spoke, one of the listening savages got up, his eyes a-sparkle with eagerness, and muttered something in Micmac, which I could not understand. But the chief turned upon him so angrily that he slunk back, abashed.

"Agree with me now," I said earnestly. "Then wait here till I fetch the gold, and I will deliver it into your hands before you deliver the captives."

But the chief merely turned aside with an air of settling the question, and repeated angrily:-

"I say white girls not for ransom."

I rose to my feet.

"Fools, you are," said I, "and no men, but sick women, afraid of your rascal priest. I offered to buy when I might have taken! Now I will take, and you will get no ransom! Unloose their bonds!"

And I pointed with my sword, while my left hand rested upon a pistol in my belt. I am a very pretty shot with my left hand.

Before the words were fairly out of my lips the four sprang at me. Stepping lightly aside, I fired the pistol full at the chief's breast, and he plunged headlong. In the next instant came a report from the edge of the underbrush, and a second savage staggered, groaned, and fell upon his knees, while Marc leaped down and rushed upon a third. The remaining one snatched up his musket (the muskets were forgotten at the first, when I seemed to be alone), and took a hasty aim at me; but before he could pull the trigger my second pistol blazed in his face, and he dropped, while his weapon, exploding harmlessly, knocked up some mud and grass. I saw Marc chase his antagonist to the canoes at the point of his sword, and prick him lightly for the more speed. But at the same instant, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the savage whom Marc's shot had brought down struggle again to his feet and swing his hatchet. With a yell I was upon him, and my sword point (the point is swifter than the edge in an emergency) went through his throat with a sobbing click. But I was just too late. The hatchet had left his hand; and the flying blade caught Marc in the shoulder. The sword dropped from his grasp, he reeled, and sat down with a shudder before I could get to his side. I paid no further heed to the remaining Indian, but was dimly conscious of him launching a canoe and paddling away in wild haste.

I lifted the dear lad into the shade, and anxiously examined the wound.

"'Tis but a flesh wound," said he, faintly; but I found that the blow had not only grievously gashed the flesh, but split the shoulder blade.

"Flesh wound!" I muttered. "You'll do no more fighting in this campaign, dear lad, unless they put it off till next spring. This shoulder will be months in mending."

"When it does mend, will my arm be the same as ever?" he asked, somewhat tremulously. "'Tis my sword arm."

"Yes, lad, yes; you need not trouble about that," said I. "But it is a case for care."

In the meantime, I was cleansing the wound with salt water which I had brought from the river in my cap. Now, I cast about in my mind for a bandage; and I looked at the prisoner beneath the maple. Marc first, courtesy afterwards, I thought in my heart; for I durst not leave the wound exposed with so many flies in the air.

The lady's little feet, bound cruelly, were drawn up in part beneath her dark skirt, but so that a strip of linen petticoat shone under them. I hesitated, but only for a second. Lifting the poor little feet softly to one side, with a stammered, "Your pardon, Madame, but the need is instant!" I slit off a breadth of the soft white stuff with my sword. And I was astonished to feel my face flush hotly as I did it. With strangely thrilling fingers, and the help of my sword edge, I then set free her feet, and with no more words turned hastily back to Marc, abashed as a boy.

In a few moments I had Marc's wound softly dressed, for I had some skill in this rough and ready surgery. I could see by his contracting pupils that the hurt was beginning to agonize, but the dear lad never winced under my fingers, and I commended him heartily as a brave patient. Then placing a bundle of cool ferns under his head for a pillow, I turned to the captives, from whom there had been never a word this while.