Page 12 of Cardigan


  CHAPTER X

  It was still dark when I awoke; the fire had become a pyramid ofcoals. By the dull glow I saw two figures moving; one of thempresently crossed the dim, crimson circle and sat down beside me,fists clasped under his massive chin, rifle balanced on his knees.

  "I am awake," I whispered. "Is there any trouble?"

  Without moving a muscle of his huge frame, the forest runner said:"Don't come into the fire-ring. There's a man been prowling yonder,a-sniffing our fire, for the last four hours."

  I drew myself farther into the darkness, looking about me, shiveringand rubbing my stiffened limbs.

  "How do you feel?" he asked, without turning his head.

  I told him I felt rested, and thanked him so earnestly for his greatkindness to me that he began to laugh and chuckle all to himself anddrag his great chin to and fro across his knuckles.

  "Consider yourself fortunate, eh?" he repeated, rising to come intothe thicket and squat on his haunches beside me.

  "Yes," said I, wondering what he found so droll in the situation.

  "Ever hear of Catamount Jack?" he inquired, after a moment.

  "Yes; you mean Jack Mount, the highwayman? But you are mistaken; theman who follows me is not Jack Mount," I replied, smiling.

  "Sure?"

  "Oh yes," I said, bitterly; "I ought to know."

  "What do you know about Jack Mount?" he asked.

  "I? Nothing--that is, nothing except what everybody knows."

  "Well, what does Mister Everybody know?" he inquired, sneeringly.

  "They say he takes the King's highway," I replied. "There's a bookabout him, printed in Boston."

  "With a gibbet on the cover," interrupted the big fellow, impatiently."Oh, I know all that. But don't they say he's a rebel?"

  "Why, yes," I replied; "everybody knows he set fire to the King'sship, _Gaspee_, and started the rebels a-pitching tea overboard fromGriffin's Wharf."

  I stopped short and looked at him in amazement. _He_ was Jack Mount! Idid not doubt it for one moment. And there was the famous Weasel,too--that little, shrivelled comrade of his!--both correspondingexactly to their descriptions which I had read in the Boston book, ay,read to Silver Heels, while her gray eyes grew rounder and rounder atthe exploits of these so-called "Minions of the Moon."

  "Well," asked the forest runner, with a chuckle, "do you still thinkyourself lucky?"

  I managed to say that I thought I was, but my lack of enthusiasm sentthe big fellow into spasms of smothered laughter.

  "Now, now, be sensible," he said. "You know you've a belt full ofgold, a string of good wampum in your sack, and as pretty a rifle asever I saw. And you still think yourself in luck? And you're suppingwith Jack Mount? And the Weasel's watching everything from yonderhazel-bunch? And Saul Shemuel's pretending to be asleep under thatpine-tree? Why, Mr. Cardigan, you amaze me!" he lisped, mockingly.

  So the little Hebrew had recognized me after all. I swallowed a lumpin my throat and rose to my elbow. With Jack Mount beside me, WalterButler prowling outside the fire-ring, and I alone, stripped of everyweapon, what in Heaven's sight was left for me to do? Truly, I hadjumped into that same fire which burns below all frying-pans, andpresently must begin a-roasting, too.

  "So they say I take the King's highway, eh?" observed Mount, twiddlinghis great thumbs over his ramrod and digging his heels into thepine-needles.

  "They say so," I replied, sullenly.

  He burst out petulantly: "I never take a _rebel_ purse! The next foolyou hear call me a cut-purse, tell him that to stop his mouth withal!"And he fell a-muttering to himself: "King's highway, eh? Not mine, nothis, not yours--oh no!--but the King's. By God! I'd like to meet hisMajesty of a moonlight on this same highway of his!"

  He turned roughly on me, demanding what brought me into the forest;but I shook my head, lips obstinately compressed.

  "Won't tell, eh?" he growled.

  An ugly gleam came into his eyes, but died out again as quickly; andhe shrugged his giant's shoulders and spat out a quid of spruce-gum hehad been chewing.

  "One thing's plain as Shemuel's nose yonder," he said, jerking a bigthumb towards the sleeping peddler; "you're a King's man if I'm aKing's highwayman, and I'll be cursed if you go free without a betteraccounting than a wag o' your head!"

  Cade Renard, the Weasel, had come up while Mount was speaking, and hisbright little eyes gleamed ruby red in the fire-glow as he scanned mewarily from head to toe.

  "What's his business?" he inquired of Mount. "I've searched his packagain, and I can't find anything except the wampum belts."

  At this naive avowal I jumped up angrily, forgetting fear, demandingto know by what right he dared search my pack; but the impassiveWeasel only blinked at Mount and chewed a birch-leaf reflectively.

  "What is he, Jack?" he asked again, turning towards me, as though Ihad been some new kind of bird.

  "Don't know," replied Mount; "not worth the plucking, anyhow. Take hiswampum belts, all the same," he added, with a terrific yawn.

  "If you are a patriot," I said, desperately, "you will leave me mybelts and meddle only with your own affairs."

  Both men turned and looked at me curiously.

  "_You_ are no patriot," said Mount, after a silence.

  "Why not?" I persisted.

  "Ay--ay--why and why not?" yawned Mount. "I don't know, if you won'ttell. The devil take you, for aught I care! But you won't get yourbelts," he added, slyly, watching me askance to note the effect of hiswords.

  "Why not?" I repeated, choking down my despair.

  "Because you'll talk with your belts to some of these damned Indianshereabouts," he grinned, "and I want to know what you've got to say tothem first."

  "I tell you that my belts mean no harm to patriots!" I repeated,firmly. "You say I am no patriot. I deny it; I am a better patriotthan you, or I should not be in this forest to-day!"

  "You are not a patriot," broke in Cade Renard; "you have proved italready!"

  "You say that," I retorted, "because Jack Mount, the highwayman, givesme the Boston greeting--'God save our country!'--and I do not reply?What of it? I'm at least patriot enough not to pretend to be one. I ampatriot enough not to rob my own countrymen. I can say 'God save ourcountry!' as well as you, and I do say it, with better grace thaneither of you!"

  The men exchanged sullen glances.

  "That password is not fit for spies," said Mount, grimly.

  "Spy? You take me for a spy?" I cried, in astonishment. "Well, if youare the famous Jack Mount, you've duller wits than people believe."

  "I've wit enough left to keep an eye on you," he roared, startingtowards me; but the Weasel laid his little, rough claw on the giant'sarm, and at the same moment I saw a dark figure step just within theouter fire-ring, holding up one arm as a sign of peace. The man wasWalter Butler. I dropped back softly into the shadow of the thicket.

  Slowly Jack Mount strolled around the rim of the fire-circle, riflelying in the hollow of his left arm. He halted a few paces from Butlerand signed for him to remain where he stood. There was no mistakingthat signal, for it was a Mohawk sign, and both men understood that itmeant "Move and I shoot!"

  "Well, Captain Butler," he drawled, "what can I do for you?"

  "You know me, sir?" replied Butler, without the faintest trace ofsurprise in his colourless voice.

  "Ay, we all know you," replied Mount, quickly; "even in your Iroquoisdress."

  "May I inquire your name, sir?" asked Butler, with that deathlygrimace which was his smile.

  "You may inquire, certainly you may inquire," said Mount, cordially."You may inquire of my old friend, the moon. Gad, she knows me well,Captain Butler!"

  After a silence Butler said: "You unintentionally misled me lastevening, friend. The man I follow did not cross the river as yousupposed."

  "Really?" cried Mount, smiling.

  There came another silence, then Butler spoke again:

  "I am here on business of my Lord Dunmore; I am here to arrest a young
man who is supposed to lie hidden in your camp. I call on you, sir,whoever you are, to aid me in execution of the law."

  "The law! Gad, she's another acquaintance o' mine, the jade!" saidMount, laughing. "I suppose you bring that pretty valentine ofhers--what some people call a warrant--do you not, Captain Butler?"

  "I do," said Butler, moving forward and holding out a paper. Mounttook it, and, while he read it, he deliberately shoved Butler backwith his elbow to where he had been standing, crowded him back beforehis huge, outstretched arm, coolly scanning the warrant the while. AndButler could not avoid the giant save by retreating, step by step,beyond the dull red circle, and out against the sky-line, where abullet could scarcely miss him.

  Mount was now contemplating the warrant in deep admiration. He held itout at arm's-length, cocking his head on one side; he held it upsidedown; he turned it over; he scanned it sideways.

  "Oh, Cade!" he called out, cheerily. "'Tis the same old valentine!Gad, Captain Butler, we have seen them in every one o' the thirteencolonies--my friend yonder, and I!"

  "You are doubtless a sheriff, sir," observed Butler, patiently.

  "No," said Mount; "no, not exactly what you could call a sheriff,Captain Butler; but I have had much business with sheriffs. I owe themmore than I can ever repay," he added, sentimentally.

  "Then you will understand, sir, the necessity of aiding the law,"suggested Butler, holding out his hand for the warrant.

  But Mount quietly pocketed the paper and began to whistle and reprimehis rifle.

  "May I trouble you for that paper?" asked Butler, with his chilling,sinister politeness.

  There was a pause. Butler's eyes stole around the camp-fire, but onlythe little Hebrew was now visible, for I lay in the shadow and theWeasel had ominously vanished.

  "You do not mean to retain this warrant, sir?" demanded Butler,raising his sneering voice, and searching the thickets for some signof the ambushed Weasel.

  "Oh, Captain Butler," said Mount, with a gigantic simper, "how can Iresist you? Pray tell me who this bad young Michael Cardigan may be,and what he has done to get his name on this valentine?"

  "It is a matter of treason," retorted Butler, sharply. "Come, my goodman, have done with silly chatter and aid me to my duty in the King'sname!"

  Mount burst into a shout of laughter. "That's it! In the King's name!I've heard that, too,--oh yes, I've heard that o' moonlight nights!"

  Butler observed him in astonishment, but Mount held his sides androared in his mirth: "Comes friend Butler with his warrant, trippingit through the woods, and singing of the King like a titmouse on astump. Ay, singing to me to help him take a stout fellow in the King'sname! Ha! Ha! Ha! This funny Mr. Sheriff Butler!" Then, in a flash, hewheeled on Butler, snarling, every tooth bared: "Damn you, sir, do youtake me for your lackey or the King's hangman? To hell with you, sir!To hell with your King, sir! Did you hear me? I said, to hell withyour King!"

  Butler's face paled in the waning fire-light. Presently he said, inhis slow, even tones: "I shall take care that your good wishes reachthe King's ears. Pray, sir, honour me with your name and quality,though I may perhaps guess both."

  "No need to guess," cut in the big fellow, cheerfully. "I'm JackMount; I burned the _Gaspee_, I helped dump his Majesty's tea intoBoston harbour, and I should be pleased to do as much for the Kinghimself. Tell him so, Captain Butler; tell my Lord Dunmore he canhave a ducking, too, at his lordship's polite convenience."

  Butler glared at him, but Mount raised his coon-skin cap and bowedmockingly. "Charmed, sir, charmed," he simpered. "Pray, permit me topresent my comrade, Sir Cade Renard, of the backwood aristocracy,sometimes called the Weasel. He's so shy, sir. Friend Weasel, come outfrom behind that stump and bring your rifle; step up beside me andmake a very fine bow to his Majesty's deputy-sheriff. Tell the kindgentleman what good men we are, Cade, and how proud we feel toentertain him."

  The Weasel sauntered up and performed a slow, wriggling bow.

  "Minions of the moon, sir," he said; "and so charmed to receive you,or anything you have of value. Your scalp, now, might bring fiveshillings at Baton Rouge, or is that but a scratch wig you wear, sir?"

  "Will you deliver me my warrant and my prisoner?" demanded Butler,with a ghastly smile.

  "No!" said Mount, abruptly changing his manner. "Make a new trail, youTory hangman! March!" And he gave him a prod with his rifle.

  Never had I seen such ferocity expressed on any human face as I sawnow on Mr. Butler's.

  He backed out into the brush, at the point of Mount's long rifle; thenthe red fire-glow left him, and he was gone into the darkness of earlymorning. Presently the Weasel stole after him.

  Mount came swaggering back, pausing to drop the warrant on the hotcoals as he passed. Renard returned in a few minutes, took his rifle,and squatted briskly down just beyond the fire-light.

  As Mount came up to me, I rose and thanked him for the protection hehad given so generously, and he laughed and laid one padded fist on myshoulder.

  "Hark ye, friend," he said; "take your Indian belts and your pack andgo in peace, for if Dunmore is after you, the sooner you start norththe better. Go, lad; I'm not your enemy!"

  "I go south," I replied, cautiously.

  "Oh, you do, eh?" said Mount, fumbling in his pockets for the flint hehad taken from my rifle. "Are you bound for Cresap's camp, too?"

  "Are you?" I asked, reddening.

  He rubbed his chin, watching me with sulky eyes.

  "You answer ever with a question!" he complained, fretfully. "I askyou this and you ask me that--tom tiddle! tiddle tom!--and I be nowiser now for all I have heard your name."

  "I know Michael Cardigan," observed the Weasel, quietly coming up,buckling on his pack.

  "It's an honourable name," I began, in desperation, striving to stophim, but the Weasel ignored me and addressed himself to Mount.

  "He's one of Sir William Johnson's household. That accounts for thosepeace-belts of wampum. Shemuel, yonder, knows the lad."

  "Oho!" exclaimed Mount, staring at me. "So you come on Sir William'sbusiness to the Cayugas? Ha! Now I begin to grasp this pretty game.Sir William wishes his Cayugas to sit tight while Cresap buildsforts--"

  "Hush, for God's sake!" I pleaded, seeing that he had guessed all.

  "Oh, I'll hush," he replied, eying me with frank curiosity. "I am noenemy to Sir William. A fairer and more honest gentleman lives not inthese colonies, be he Tory or patriot! Oh, I'll hush, but every oneknows Sir William will not have the Indians take sides in this samewar that's coming so fast upon us. It's no secret, lad; everypot-house, every tavern tap-room is full o' gossip that Butler meansto rouse the Indians against us, and that Sir William will not haveit!"

  "Since when have you come from Johnstown?" I asked, astonished.

  "Oh, a week after you left," replied the Weasel. "We saw your tracks,but we went another way after the first week. You lost too much time."

  Mount had now hoisted his pack to his shoulders and stood watchingShemuel, the Hebrew peddler, strapping up his dingy boxes, tucking inbits of lace and ribbon and cheap finery.

  "Come on, Shemmy, you pigeon-toed woodchuck!" growled Mount, crackinga fresh lump of spruce-gum in his glistening teeth.

  The little Jew looked up at me slyly, his grimy fists buried in thebowels of his gewgaws.

  "Perhaps the gendleman cares to look at som goots?" he observed,interrogatively. "I haff chains, buckles, pins, needles, buttons,laces, knifes, ribbons for queue and gollarettes--"

  Mount, with the toe of his moccasin, gently reversed Shemuel into oneof his own boxes, then warning him to pack up if he valued his scalp,took my arm in friendly fashion and moved out into the gray woods.

  "Touching this mission of yours to the Cayugas," he said, frankly, "Isee no good to come of it, and I say this with all respect to SirWilliam. By-the-bye, Sir William has much to trouble him these days."

  "I know that," said I, sadly.

  "Oh no, you don't," smiled Mount. "There have b
een strange doings inJohnstown since you left: a change has come in a single week, lad;neighbours no longer speak; the town is three parts Tory to one partpatriot; even brothers hate each other. Two taverns known to be themeeting-places of patriots have been set afire and shot into; and oldJohn Butler is gone north, where, they say, he is raising a bloodycrew of cut-throats, rangers, half-breeds, and young Mohawks. SirWilliam is holding long talks with Brant and Red Jacket at the uppercastle. Oh, the sands begin to run faster now, and men must soon takeone side or t'other, for there's more troops going to Boston, and thatmeans the end of King George!"

  I did not perhaps realize the importance of all he said; I had seentoo little of the rebels themselves to credit the seriousness of thesituation. But here was an opportunity to sound Mount on the Cresapaffair, and I began earnestly.

  "Can you not see that Colonel Cresap is driving the Cayugas into theKing's ranks?"

  "What do we care for the Cayugas?" replied Mount, contemptuously; andit was in vain I wasted argument on this man who had been born awoodsman, but who knew the savages only from the outside. I could notmake him see the foolish uselessness of angering the Six Nations. Hewas one of that kind who detested all Indians, who professed to holdthem in scorn, and who had passed his life in killing all he could.

  "What are we to do?" he demanded, sarcastically. "Give up the frontierand go back to Virginia with tails between our legs?"

  "Better that than serve as silly tools for Dunmore!" I retorted hotly.

  "Dunmore!" sneered Mount. "We his tools, when the silly ass hasn'twits to twiddle his own thumbs?"

  "He had the wit to send Butler to stop me!" I answered, bitterly.

  Mount began to grin again and wink his eyes slyly.

  "Butler came for something else, too," he said. "Dunmore's suitetravelled south the day you left, and ought to be in Fortress Pitt bythis hour to-morrow."

  "What of it?" I asked.

  "Ay, that's it, you see. Since you left Johnstown, all are talking ofthe new beauty who threw over Walter Butler--what's her name--acertain Miss Warren, ward of Sir William; and it is commonly reportedthat the dispute over the Indians and the quarrel betwixt Butler andSir William stopped the match."

  "What of it!" I broke out, hoarsely.

  "Only that this beautiful Miss Warren came with Lord Dunmore's suiteto Pittsburg, and Walter Butler has openly boasted he will marry herspite of Sir William or the devil himself. And here is the lady--andhere comes her rash gallant tumbling after his jill!"

  To hear her name in the southern wilderness, to hear these things inthis place, told coarsely, told with a wink and a leer, raised such ablack fury in me that I could scarce see the man before me. As forspeaking, my throat closed and my breast heaved as though to burst thevery straps on my pack. Oh, that I had killed Butler! I clutched myrifle and glared into the gray waste of misty trees. Somewhere outthere that devil was lurking; and when I had fulfilled my trust Iwould seek him and end everything for good and all.

  "Are you certain that Miss Warren is already in Pittsburg?" I managedto ask.

  "We saw the ladies and the escort a week since," said Mount. "Thetrail is good for horses below Crown Gap, and they were well mounted,ay, nobly horsed, ladies and troopers, by Heaven! Was it not asplendid sight, Cade?"

  "Gay and godless," replied the Weasel, buckling the straps on his packmore tightly and shifting the weight with a grunt. "Are you ready,Jack?"

  Mount looked at me.

  "Join us and welcome," he said, briefly. "It's safer than going alone.Our friend, Mr. Sheriff Butler, will be watching for us, and wemustn't keep the gentleman on tenter-hooks too long, eh, Cade?"

  "Certainly not," said Cade; and we moved off due west, Mount leading,then Shemuel the peddler, then I, the Weasel trotting furtively in therear.

  At times the little peddler twisted his greasy neck to look back at mewith an inscrutable expression that puzzled me; but he said nothing,so I only scowled at him, meaning to imply my disgust at histreachery. However, as we strung out through the forest, I quickenedmy pace and came up beside him, saying, "It was not very wise of you,Shemuel; the next time you come to our house you get no permit topeddle."

  "Ach!" he said, spreading his fingers in deprecation, "don'd speagaboud it, Mr. Cardigan. Sir William he has giff me so many permidsmitout a shilling to pay. Oh, sir, he iss a grand gendleman, SirWilliam, ain't he?"

  "What made you betray my name and quality then, Shemuel?" I asked,curiously.

  His small eyes sought mine, then dropped meekly, as he plodded on insilence. Nor could I get another word from him; so I fell back into myplace, with a glance at the sun, which was still shining directly inmy face.

  "The Fort Pitt trail lies west by south," I suggested, over myshoulder, to the Weasel.

  "There's a shorter cut to Cresap," he replied, cunningly.

  "Shorter than the Pitt trail?" I asked, astonished.

  "Shorter because healthier," he returned. And, answering my puzzledsmile, he added, "A long life on a long trail, but there's ever ashorter cut to the gibbet!"

  Mount, who had fallen back beside us, grinned at me and rubbed hisnose.

  "Butler will be sitting up like a bereaved catamount in the Pitt trailfor us," he said. "I've no powder to waste on him and his crew.However, Mr. Cardigan, if you want to take a long shot, now's yourchance to mark their hides."

  He took me by the arm and led me cautiously a few rods to the left,then crouched down and parted the bushes with his hand. We werekneeling on the very edge of a precipice which I never should haveseen, and over which I certainly should have walked had I been herealone. Deep down below us the Ohio flowed, a dark, slow stream, withjutting rocks on the eastern bank and a long flat sand-spit on thewest.

  At the point of this spit a man was standing, leaning on a rifle. Itwas not Butler.

  "There's another fellow on that rock," whispered Mount, pointing."Butler will be watching the slope below our camp."

  "Let him watch it," observed the Weasel; "we'll be with Cresap bymoon-rise!"

  "You can take a safe shot from here," smiled Mount, looking around atme; "but it's too far to go for the scalp."

  I shook my head, shuddering, and we resumed our march, filing awayinto the west in perfect silence until the sun stood in mid-heaven andthe heated air under the great pines drove us to the nearest water,which I had been sniffing for some time past.

  Resting there to drink, I looked curiously at my three companions.Such a company I had never beheld. There was the notorious Mount, agiant in stringy buckskins, with a paw like a bear and a smooth,boyish face cut by the single, heavy crease of a scar below the righteye. With his regular features and indolent movements, he appeared tome like some overgrown village oaf, too stupid to work, too lazy totry.

  Beside him squatted the little Jew, toes turned in, dirty thumbsjoined pensively, musing in his red beard. His boots had left theforeign mark which I had seen the day before in the trail; theWeasel's moccasins were those of Albany make.

  I examined the Weasel. Such a shrunken, serene, placid littlecreature, all hunting-shirt and cap, with two finely chiselled flatears, which perhaps gave him that alert allure, as though eternallylistening to some sound behind his back.

  But the mouths of these three men were curiously well made, bespeakinga certain honesty which I began to believe they perhaps possessedafter all. Even Shemuel's mouth, under his thin, red beard, was notthe mouth of treachery, though the lips were shrewd enough, God wot!

  "Well," cried Mount suddenly, "what do you think of us?"

  Somewhat embarrassed, I replied politely, but Mount shook his head.

  "You were thinking, what a row of gallows-birds for an honest man toflock with! Eh? Oh, don't deny it. You can't hurt my feelings, but youmight hurt the Weasel's--eh, Cade?"

  "I have sensitive feelings," said the Weasel dryly.

  "I think you all stood by me when I was in distress," said I. "I askno more of my friends than that."

  "Well, you're
a good lad," said Mount, getting to his feet and pattingmy shoulder as he passed me.

  "Give him something to wreck his life and he'd make a rare ranger,"observed the Weasel.

  "Cade was in love," explained Mount soberly; "weren't you Cade?"

  The weazened little man nodded his head and looked up at mesentimentally.

  "Yes," went on Mount, "Cade was in love and got married. His wife ranaway somewheres--didn't she Cade?"

  Again the little creature nodded, looking soberly at me for sympathy.

  "And then," continued Mount, "he just hunted around till he found me,and we went to hell together--didn't we, Cade, old friend?"

  Two large tears stole down the Weasel's seamy cheeks. He rubbed themoff with his smoky fists, leaving smears beside his nose.

  "She took our baby, too," he sniffed; "you forgot that, Jack."

  "So I did, so I did," said Mount, pityingly. "Come on, friends, thesun's sliding galley west, and it's a longer road to the devil thanBoston preachers tell you. Come, Shemmy, old chuck, hoist that prettynose up on both feet! Now, Mr. Cardigan!"

  We marched on heavily, bearing southwest, descending the great slopeof mountain and table-land which was but a vast roof, shedding athousand streams into the slow Ohio, now curving out below us, red asblood in the kindling coals of sunset.

  The river seemed but a mile distant, so clear was the air in themountains, but we journeyed on, hour after hour, until the big yellowmoon floated above the hills, and the river faded into the blueshadows of a splendid night.

  Mount had thrown aside all caution now. He strode on ahead, singing aswinging air with full-chested lungs:

  "Come, all you Tryon County men, And never be dismayed, But trust in the Lord, And He will be your aid!"

  And one by one we all took up the stirring song, singing cheerily aswe marched in file, till the dark forest rang back word for word.

  And I do remember Shemuel, his thumbs in his arm-pits, and cap overone eye, singing right lustily and footing it proudly beside Mount.

  Suddenly a light twinkled on the edge of a clearing, then anotherbroke out like a star in the bush, and soon all about us cabin-windowsgleamed brightly and we were marching down a broad road, full ofstones and stumps, and lined on either side by cultivated land andcabins enclosed in little stockades.

  "Shoulder arms! Right wheel!" cried Mount; and we filed between twoblock-houses, and across a short bridge, and halted, grounding armsunder the shadow of a squatty fort built with enormous logs.

  The sentry had called out the guard, and the corporal in charge cameup to us, lifting his lanthorn. He greeted Mount cheerfully, noddingand smiling at Renard also.

  "Who the devil is this he-goat with red whiskers?" he demanded,illuminating Shemuel's cheerful features.

  "Friend of liberty," said Mount, in a low voice. "Is Colonel Cresap inthe fort, corporal?"

  "No," said the corporal, looking hard at me; "he's off somewhere. Whois this gentleman, Jack?"

  I looked at Mount, perhaps appealingly, wondering what he would say.

  But he did not hesitate; he laid his great paw on my shoulder andsaid, "He's a good lad, corporal; give him a bed and a bowl o'porridge, and it's a kindness to Jack Mount you will do."

  Then he held out his hand to me, and I took it.

  "Good-night lad," he said, heartily. "We'll meet again to-morrow. I'vea few friends to see to-night. Sleep tight to the bed and think nottoo much ill of this same Catamount Jack they write books about."

  The Weasel sidled up and offered his small, dry hand.

  "If you were ruined," he said, regretfully, "you'd make a rarewood-runner."

  I thanked him uncertainly and returned Shemuel's low obeisance with anunforgiving nod.

  "Pray, follow me, sir," said the corporal, with a civil bow, and Iwalked after him through the postern, out across the moonlit parade,and into the western barracks, where he lighted me to a tiny casemateand pointed to a door.

  "We have messed, but there's some cold meat and a jug of cider foryou," he said, affably. "Yonder's a bucket of water, and I'll leavethis lanthorn for you. Open that door, and you'll find food and drink.Good-night, sir."

  "Good-night," I said, "and pardon my importunity, but I have a messagefor Colonel Cresap."

  "He returns to the fort to-morrow," said the soldier. Then, lingering,he asked the news from Boston and whether any more troops had beensent thither. But I did not know and he retired presently, whistling"The White Cockade," and making passes at the moonbeams with hisbright bayonet.

  As for me, I sat down on the bed, and slipping my sack from myshoulders, I rolled over on the blanket, meaning only to close my eyesfor a minute. But dawn was shining in through the loopholes of thecasemate ere I unclosed my eyes to the world again, and the drums andfifes were playing, the sun above the horizon.

  Bang! went a cannon from the parapet, and, leaning out of theporthole, I saw the flag of England crawling up the halyards over myhead.

  I sprang out of bed, and without waiting for food, though I was halffamished, I dressed hurriedly and ran out across the parade to thepostern.

  "How far is the Cayuga castle?" I asked the sentinel.

  "About a mile up the river," he replied, adding: "It's not very safeto go there just now. The Indians have been restless these threeweeks, and I guess there's deviltry hatching yonder."

  "Don't they come in to the village at all?" I inquired, glancingaround at half a dozen men who had gathered at the postern to watchthe morning parade.

  "There's a Cayuga, now," said the sentry, pointing to a short,blanketed figure squatting outside the drawbridge.

  I walked across the bridge and approached the Indian, who immediatelyrose when he saw me, as though he expected ill-treatment, a kickperhaps. The movement was full of sad significance to me, like thecowering of a mistreated hound. Shame to those who inspire cringing inbeasts! Double dishonour on those before whom men cower!

  So this was the result of Cresap's coming! I saw it all in an instant;the bullying, overbearing pioneers were here to stay, backed by cannonand fort and a thousand long rifles, backed, too, by my Lord Dunmore,to play for a stake, the winning of which meant woe unspeakable to mynative land.

  The Indian was watching me sullenly. I held out my hand and said:"Peace, brother. I am a belt-bearer."

  There was a silence. After a moment he took my hand.

  "Peace, bearer of belts," he said, quietly.

  "Our council fire is at Onondaga," I said.

  "It burns on the Ohio, too," he replied, gravely.

  "It burns at both doors of the Long House," I said. "Go to yoursachems and wise men. Say to them that Quider is dead; that the threeclans who mourn shall be raised up; that Sir William has sent sixbelts to the Cayuga. I bear them."

  He stared at me for a full minute, then gravely turned north, acrossthe cleared land, drawing his scarlet blanket over his face.

  All that morning I waited patiently for Mount to come, believing thathe might have some friend in the village who would give me a lodgingwhere I could lie hid until Colonel Cresap returned to the fort.

  Whether Butler had gone on to Pittsburg or whether he still lay inambush for me below Crown Gap, I did not know.

  One thing was clear: I could not remain at the fort without risk ofarrest if Butler arrived in Cresap's camp with a new warrant. Everymoment I tarried here in the barracks might bring danger nearer; yet,where was I to go?

  Bitterly disappointed at the news that Cresap was in Pittsburg, Idurst not, however, journey thither in search of him, for fear hemight have started to return, and so risk passing him on the trails,of which there were seven that traversed the forest betwixt PittsburgFortress and Cresap's camp. And on the morrow, too, must I needsdeliver my belts to the Cayugas at their castle. This was even moreimportant than intercepting Colonel Cresap; for I might gain Cresap byargument, even though he returned here with fresh instructions fromLord Dunmore, and his mind poisoned against me by Walter Butl
er; butI, personally, could hope to wield no influence with the Cayugas saveby what authority was invested in me through Sir William's wampumpledges.

  However, spite of my dangerous predicament, I was ravenously hungry,and made out to clean my platter and bowl as many times as they caredto replenish it. Then I thanked my host, the corporal, and we shookhands in friendly fashion, he inquiring when I expected my friendMount to return for me, and I replying that I did not know, but wouldmake ready to join him at once.

  The corporal, whose name was Paul Cloud, a New York man by birth,aided me to strap on my pack, conversing the while most agreeably, andfinally, when I was prepared, he accompanied me to the parade-ground,where two companies of Virginia militia were drilling on the grass.

  "My duties take me to the south stockade," he said, once more offeringhis hand. And again I thanked him for his hospitality so warmly thathe seemed a trifle surprised.

  "What friend of liberty could expect less?" he protested, smiling."Are you a recent recruit, sir, that you marvel at the good-fellowshipamong us?"

  "Are you, too, of that fellowship?" I exclaimed, amazed to find rebelsin uniform.

  He looked at me rather blankly.

  "You'll scarce find a Tory in the regiment," he said, beginning to beamused at my ignorance. "As for Colonel Cresap's colonists yonder,I'll warrant them all save some two score malignants like Greathouse,the store-keeper, and the company he keeps."

  His unsuspicious assumption that I was a rebel placed me in a mostdelicate and unhappy position. I knew not what to say nor how toexplain the misunderstanding without, perhaps, seriously damaging JackMount, who had vouched for me--as a friend, I supposed, not as a rebelcomrade.

  "I am afraid I do not merit your confidence in matters touching thefellowship to which you and my friend Mount adhere," I said, stiffly,determined not to wear false colours. "I am not a patriot, corporal,and Jack Mount meant only a kindness to a brother man in distress."

  Cloud cut me short with a hearty laugh.

  "I guess Jack Mount knows what he is about," he said, clapping me onthe shoulder. "Half our men are somewhat backward and distrustful,like you; but I'll warrant them when the time comes! Oh, I know them!It's your fawning, slavering, favour-currying Tory that I shy at! Ay,the man who snatches the very speech from between your teeth to agreewith you. None o' that kind for me. I know them."

  He stood there, serene, smiling, with folded arms, his kindly eyesvoid of all distrust; and I thought to myself that such a man mustneeds have at least an honest grievance to oppose his King withal.

  "Well," he said, abruptly, "time is on the wing, friend. So fare youpleasantly, and--God save our country!"

  "Amen," I replied, before I realized that I had acknowledged thefamous patriots' greeting. He turned around to laugh significantly,then walked away towards the sallyport, swinging his hangercontentedly.

  Ill-pleased with my bungling in such a delicate situation, and greatlydisturbed at having implied my adherence to this fellowship of which Iyet knew nothing, I stood on the parade, biting my lips in vexationand wondering where in the world to go.

  The two companies of Virginia militia were marching andcounter-marching at "support," halberdiers guiding, drummers andfifers leading off, and a long, lean major pacing to and fro, andwatching the two captains with keen, wrinkled eyes.

  The militia were mostly Virginians born, tall, stout fellows, smartlyuniformed in drab and scarlet, and wearing the bugle on theircross-belts, indicating them to be light infantry. Truly, they wheeledand halted and marched and counter-marched most adroitly, carefullypreserving distances and alignment; and I thought the major a martinetthat he found nothing but fault with the officers and men. Certainlythey paraded perfectly, their black knee-gaitered legs moving inunison, their muskets steady, their left arms swinging as one, whichinterested me because, in our militia of Tryon County, to swing thefree arm is not allowed.

  But I had no business to linger here; I felt that every minuteredoubled my danger. Yet again I asked myself where under heaven Icould go, and I thought bitterly of Mount for leaving me hereneglected.

  Plainly the first thing to be done was to get out of the fort. This Iaccomplished without the slightest trouble, nobody questioning me; andI shortly found myself in the road which appeared to be the mainstreet of Cresap's village.

  The fort, I now perceived, stood on a low hill in the centre ofcleared ground. The road encircled the fort, then ran west through aroughly cultivated country, dotted with cabins of logs plastered overwith blue clay. The circumference of the village itself appeared to beinconsiderable. Everywhere the dark circle of the forest seemed tocrowd in the desolate hamlet; I say desolate, for indeed the scenewas grim, even for the frontier. The whole country had a blackappearance from the thousands of charred roots and stumps which chokedthe fields. Dead trees lay in heaps, stark patches of dead pines stoodlike gray spectres, blasted hemlocks, with foliage seared rusty, linedthe landscape, marking the zones doomed to cultivation. These latterwere girdled trees, but I saw no attempt to preserve any trees forshade around the cabins, or for shade along the fences, or for beauty.

  We in Johnstown never girdled the bush without preserving rows oftrees to ornament roads and fields, and this dismal destruction byfire and axe reacted on my sombre thoughts, depressing me dolefully.

  Under a leaden sky, through which a pale sun peered fitfully, theblackened waste about me seemed horrible and ominous of horrors tocome; the very soil in the fields was black with charcoal, throughwhich the young corn struggled up into the fading sunshine as thoughstrangling.

  Cresap's Maryland colonists were busy everywhere with harrow andplough and axe and spade. The encircling woods echoed and re-echoedwith their chopping; their voices rang out, guiding the slow ox-teamsamong the stumps. At intervals the crack of a rifle signalled thedeath of some partridge or squirrel close by.

  There were men in the fields labouring half-naked at the unyieldingroots; men in linen shirts and smalls, planting or weeding; men movingin distant fields, aimlessly perhaps, perhaps planning a rough home,perhaps a grave.

  Women sometimes passed along the paths, urging gaunt cattle to gaunterpasture; children peered from high door-sills, hung from unpaintedwindows, quarrelled in bare door-yards, half seen through stockades;some chopped fire-wood, some carried water, some played in the ditchesor sailed chips in the dark, slow stream that crawled out across theland towards the Ohio.

  And here and there, on little knolls dotting the scene, tall riflemenstood, leaning on their weapons; sentinels mounting guard over flockand family below.

  I looked at the flag on the fort; its dull folds hung dark andlifeless under a darkening sky. Below it paced a sentry to and fro,to and fro, with the gray light on his musket shining dimly.

  I looked towards the black woods. They seemed to promise moreprotection than fort and flag; there was less gloom under theirbranches than under these sad cabin-roofs.

  Unconsciously I began to walk towards the forest, yet with no ideawhat I should do there. A child here and there saluted me fromstockade gates; now and then an anxious woman's face appeared at awindow, watching me out of sight along the charred road. Presently Ipassed a double log-house, from the eaves of which dangled a greenbush. The door bore a painted sign-board also, representing a largehouse with arms and legs like a man, at which I puzzled, but could notguess the significance.

  I needed salt, having for the last week used white-wood ashes tosavour my corn withal, so I entered the tavern and made known my needsto a coarse-featured, thick-set fellow, who lay in a chair smoking aclay pipe.

  He rose instanter, all bows and smiles and cringing to my orders,begging me to be seated until he could find the salt sack in thecellar; and I sat down, after saluting the company, which consisted ofhalf a dozen men playing cards by the window.

  They all returned my salute, some leaning clear around to look at me;and although they resumed their game I noticed that they began talkingin whispers, pausing sometimes in a
shuffle to turn their eyes on me.

  Presently the landlord came in with my small bag of salt, and set iton the scales with many a bow and smirk at me to beg indulgence forhis delay.

  "You have travelled far, sir," he said, pointedly; "there is northernmud on your hunting-shirt and southern burrs on your legging fringe.Ha! A stroke, sir! Touched, by your leave, sir! I have run the forestsmyself, sir, and I read as I run--I read as I run."

  He was tying my sack up with grass, clumsily I thought for one who hadlived as a forest-runner. But I waited patiently, he meanwhileconversing most politely. In fact, I could find no opportunity tocourteously make an end to his garrulous chatter, and, ere I couldrefuse or prevent it, he had persuaded me to a pewter of home-brewand had set it before me, brimming with good stout foam.

  "No water there, sir!" he observed, proudly; "body and froth hum likebee-hives in August! It is my own, sir, my own, barrel and malt andhops!"

  I could do no less than taste the ale, and he picked up his pipe andbegged the honour of sitting in my presence: all of which ceremonyrevealed to me that my language and bearing were not at all in concordwith my buckskin and my pack, and that he was quite aware of thediscrepancy.

  "Perchance, sir, you have news from Boston?" he asked, with a jollylaugh.

  I shook my head. The company at the table by the window had paused tolisten.

  "Well, well," he said, puffing his long clay into a glow, "these beparlous times, sir, the world over! And, between ourselves, sir,begging your pardon for the familiarity, sir, I have been wonderingmyself whether the King is wholly right."

  The stillness in the room was intense.

  "Doubt," said I, carelessly, "is no friend to loyalty."

  I was drinking when I finished this choice philosophy, but through theglass bottom of my pewter I surprised a very cunning squint in hispuffy eyes.

  "Oho!" thought I, "you wish to know my politics, eh? Let us see howmuch you'll find out!" And I set down my pewter with a sigh ofcontentment and tossed him a shilling for my reckoning.

  "But," he suggested, "cannot even the King be deceived by unscrupulouscounsellors?"

  "The King should know better than you whether his ministers be whatyou accuse them of being," I said, seriously.

  "I meant no accusation," he said, hastily; "but I voiced thesentiments of many honest neighbours of mine."

  "Sentiments which smack somewhat of treason," I interrupted, coldly.

  Through the bottom of my mug again I saw he was still far fromsatisfied concerning my real sentiments. I listened as I drank: thecard-players behind me were not playing.

  "Landlord," I asked, carelessly, cutting short another argument,"what may your tavern sign mean with its house running loose on a pairo' legs?"

  "It is my own name, sir," he laughed, "Greathouse! I flatter me thereis some small wit in the conceit, sir, though I painted yon signmyself!"

  So this was Greathouse, a notorious loyalist--this bloated lout whohad been prying and picking at me to learn my sentiments? The slynessof the fellow disgusted me, and I could scarce control my openaversion, though I did succeed in leaving him with his suspicionslulled, and got out of the house without administering to him the kickwhich my leg was itching for.

  From the corner of my eye I could see the card-players watching mefrom the window; it incensed me to be so spied upon, and I was gladwhen a turn in the scurvy, rutted road shut me out of their vision.

  There were several houses just beyond me to the left; one displayed aholly-bush and wrinkled berries, a signal to me to avoid it, and Ishould have done so had I not perceived Jack Mount loafing in thedoorway, and Shemuel seated on the horse-block, eating a dish of fishwith his fingers.

  From the blotched face and false smile of Greathouse to the filthycompany of Shemuel was no advantage. If these two creatures wererepresentatives of their respective causes, I had small stomach foreither them or their parties. Tory and patriot, pot-licker and Jew,they disgusted me; and I returned Mount's cheery salute with a sullennod, not pausing at the house as I passed by.

  He came out into the road after me, asking what had gone amiss; and Itold him he had left me at the fort without advice or counsel, andthat I had quitted the barracks, not caring to be caught there byButler and his warrant.

  "Shame on you, lad, for the thought!" said Mount, angrily. "Do youthink we do things by halves, Cade and I? The Weasel has been in touchwith Butler's men all night, ready to warn you the moment they startedfor this camp! He's asleep in there, now," jerking his huge thumbtowards the inn, "and I've just returned from seeing Butler well onthe trail towards Pittsburg."

  Mortified and ashamed at my complaint, and deeply touched by thequiet kindness of these two men who had, spite of fatigue, voluntarilyset out to watch while I slept, I silently offered my hand to Mount.He took it fretfully, complaining that all the world had alwaysmisunderstood him as I had, and vowing he would never more do kindnessto man or beast or good red herring!

  "Small blame if the world requites your generosity as stupidly as Ido," said I; whereat he fell a-laughing and drew me with him into thetavern, vowing we should wash out all bitterness in a draught of ale.

  The inn, which was called "The Leather Bottle," appeared to be cleanthough rough. Tables and chairs were massive, hewn out of buckeye;horn instead of glass filled the tiny squares in the window frames,and a shelf ran around the tap-room just below the loopholes, whereonmen could stand to fire in any direction.

  Mount presented me to a young man in homespun who had been sitting bythe chimney, reading a letter--a quiet, modest gentleman of thirty,perhaps, somewhat travel-stained and spotted with reddish mud, whichproclaimed him an arrival from the south.

  He gave me a firm, cool clasp of the hand and a curiously sharp yetnot unkindly smile, promising to join us when he had finished theletter he was reading.

  I had meant to tell Mount of my conversations with Corporal Cloud andwith Greathouse, but hesitated because the smallness of the room wouldcarry even a whisper to the stranger by the chimney.

  Mount must have divined my intentions, for he said, in his hearty,deep-chested voice, "You may say what you please here, Mr. Cardigan,and trust this gentleman from Maryland as you trust me, I hope."

  I had not caught the name of the young man from Maryland, and wasdiffident about asking. He looked up from his letter with a briefsmile and nod at us, and we sat down beside one of the hewn buckeyetables and called upon the tap-boy for home-brew.

  I began by telling Mount very frankly that he had put me in a falseposition as a rebel. I retailed my conversation with Corporal Cloud,how I had felt it dishonourable to accept hospitality under amisunderstanding, and how I had deemed it necessary to confess me. Butthis only appeared to amuse Mount, who laughed at me maliciously overhis brown tankard and sucked in the frothy ale with unfeigned smacksof satisfaction.

  "Tiddle--diddle--diddle! Who the devil cares!" he said. "I wish halfof our patriots possessed your tender conscience, friend Michael."

  I swallowed a draught in silence, not at all pleased to feel myselfforced into a position whither it appeared everybody was conspiring todrive me.

  "I'm loyal to the King," I said, bluntly; "and when I am ready torenounce him, I shall do so, not before."

  "Certainly," observed Mount, complacently.

  "Not that I care for Tory company, either," I added, in disgust,thinking of my encounter with Greathouse. And I related the affair toMount.

  The big fellow's eyes narrowed and he set his tankard down with abang.

  "A sneak!" he said. "A sly, mealy-mouthed sneak! Look out for thisfellow Greathouse, my friend. By Heaven, I'm sorry he saw you! You candepend upon it the news of your arrival here will be carried toButler. Why, this fellow, Greathouse, is a notorious creature of LordDunmore, set here to spy on Colonel Cresap and see that the militiahave no commerce with rebel emissaries from Boston. Gad, had I notbelieved you trusted me, and that you would sit snug in the fortyonder instead of paying calls of state on a
ll the Tories in town--"

  He took a pull at the fresh tankard, set it down two-thirds empty, andlay back in his chair, licking his lips thoughtfully.

  "How long do you stay here?" he asked.

  "Until I deliver my belts--that will be to-morrow."

  "I thought you wished to see Colonel Cresap, too?" he said.

  "I do; he will return to-day they tell me."

  Mount leaned over the table, folding his arms under his chest.

  "Hark ye, friend Michael," he said. "Colonel Cresap, three-quarters ofthe militia, and all save a score or so of these villagers here arepatriots. The Maryland pioneers mean to make a home here forthemselves, Indians or no Indians, and it will be little use for youto plead with Colonel Cresap, who could not call off his people if hewould."

  "If he is a true patriot," I said, "how can he deliberately drive theSix Nations to take up arms against the colonies?"

  "What you don't understand," replied Mount, "is that Colonel Cresap'speople hold the Indians at small account. They are here and they meanto stay here, spite of Sir William Johnson and the Cayugas."

  "But can't you see that it's Dunmore's policy to bring on a clash?" Iexclaimed, in despair. "If Cresap is conciliatory towards the Cayugas,can't you see that Dunmore will stir up such men as Butler andGreathouse to commit some act of violence? I tell you, Dunmore meansto have a war started here which will forever turn the Six Nationsagainst us."

  "Against _us_?" said Mount, meaningly.

  "Yes--_us_!" I exclaimed. "If it be treason to oppose such a monstrouscrime as that which Lord Dunmore contemplates, then I am guilty! If tobe a patriot means to resist such men as Dunmore and Butler--ay, andour Governor Tryon, too, who knows what is being done and saysnothing!--if to defend the land of one's birth against the plots ofthese men makes me an enemy to the King, why--why, then," I ended,violently, "I am the King's enemy to the last blood drop in my body!"

  There was a silence. I sat there with clinched fist on the table,teeth set, realizing what I had said, glad that I had said it, grimlydetermined to stand by every word I had uttered.

  "Lord Dunmore represents the King," said Mount, smiling.

  "Prove it to me and I am a rebel from this moment!" I cried.

  "But Lord Dunmore is only doing his duty," urged Mount. "His Majestyneeds allies."

  "Do you mean to say that Lord Dunmore is provoking war here at theKing's command?" I asked, in horror.

  The young man by the chimney stood up and bent his pleasant eyes onme.

  "I have here," he said, tapping the letter in his hand, "my LordDunmore's commission as major-general of militia, and his Majesty'spermission to enlist a thousand savages to serve under me in the eventof rebellion in these colonies!"

  I had risen to my feet at the sound of the stranger's voice; Mount,too, had risen, tankard in hand.

  "I am further authorized," said the young stranger, coolly, "bycommand of my Lord Dunmore, to offer L12 sterling for every rebelscalp taken by these Indian allies of his most Christian Majesty."

  At that I went cold and fell a-trembling.

  "By God!" I stammered. "By the blood of man!--this is too much--thisis too--"

  Crash! went Mount's tankard on the table; and, turning to the youngstranger with a bow, "I bring you a new recruit, Colonel Cresap," hesaid, quietly; "will you administer the oath, sir?"

  Thunderstruck, I stared at the silent young man in his gray woollenhunting-shirt and cloth gaiters who stood there, grave eyes bent onme, tearing at the edge of his paper with his white teeth.

  "Pray, be seated, Mr. Cardigan," he said, smiling. "I know you have amessage for me from Sir William Johnson. I hold it an honour toreceive commands from such an honourable and upright gentleman."

  He drew up a heavy buckeye chair, motioning Mount and me to be seated;the tap-boy brought his tankard; he tasted it sparingly, and leanedback, waiting for me to speak.

  If my speech was halting or ill-considered, my astonishment at theidentity of the stranger was to blame; but I spoke earnestly andwithout reserve, and my very inexperience must have pleaded with him,for he listened patiently and kindly, even when I told him, with someheat, that the whole land would hold him responsible for an outbreakon the frontier.

  When I had finished, he thanked me for coming, and begged me to conveyhis cordial gratitude to Sir William. Then he began his defence, verymodestly and with frankest confession that he had been trapped byDunmore into a pitfall, the existence of which he had never dreamedof.

  "I am to-day," he said, "the Moses of these people, inasmuch as Ihave, at Lord Dunmore's command, led them into this promised land. Godknows it was the blind who led the blind. And now, for months, I havebeen aware that Dunmore wishes a clash with the Cayugas yonder; but,until Sir William Johnson opened my eyes, I have never understood whyLord Dunmore desired war."

  He looked at Mount as though to ask whether that notoriousforest-runner had suspected Dunmore; and Mount shook his head with asneer.

  "He is a witless ass," he muttered. "I see nothing in Mr. Cardigan'sfears that Dunmore means trouble here."

  "_I_ do," said Cresap, calmly. "Sir William is right; we have beentricked into this forest. Why, Jack, it's perfectly plain to me now.This very commission in my hands, here, proves the existence of everymissing link in the chain of conspiracy. This commission is made outfor the purpose of buying my loyalty to Dunmore. Can't you see?"

  Mount shook his head.

  Cresap flushed faintly and turned to me.

  "What can I do, Mr. Cardigan? I have led these people here, but Icannot lead them back. Do you think they would follow me in a retreat?You do not know them. If I should argue with them every day for ayear, I could not induce a single man to abandon the cabin he hasbuilt or the morsel of charred earth he has planted. And where shouldI lead them? I have nothing behind me to offer them. Virginia isover-populated. I have no land to give them except this, granted bythe King--granted in spite of his royal oath, now broken to theCayugas.

  "You say the whole country will hold me responsible. I cannot helpthat, though God must know how unjust it would be.

  "Were I to counsel the abandonment of this fort and village, LordDunmore would arrest me and clap me into Fort Pitt. Is it not betterfor me to stay here among these people who trust me? Is it not betterthat I remain and labour among my people in the cause of liberty?

  "I can do nothing while a royal Governor governs Virginia. But if thetime ever comes when our Boston brothers sound the call to arms, Ican lead six hundred riflemen out of this forest, whose watchword willbe, 'Liberty or Death!'"

  He had grown pale while speaking; two bright scarlet patches flamedunder his cheek-bones; he coughed painfully and rested his head on hishand.

  "Go to your Cayugas," he said, catching his breath. "Tell them thetruth, or as much of the truth as Sir William's wisdom permits. I amhere to watch, to watch such crafty agents as Greathouse, and youngWalter Butler, whom I met on the Pitt trail three hours since. Oh, Iunderstand the situation now, Mr. Cardigan."

  He tasted his ale once more, thoughtfully.

  "Keep Sir William's Cayugas quiet if you can," he said. "I will watchDunmore's agents that they do nothing to bring on war. I may fail, butI will do what I can. When do you speak to the Cayugas with belts?"

  "At dawn," I replied, soberly.

  "Poor devils," said Cresap, sadly, "poor, tricked, cheated, andplundered devils! This is their land. I should never have come had notDunmore assured me the Cayugas had been paid for the country. Andthere is their great sachem, Logan, called 'The Friend of the WhiteMan.' Greathouse has made a drunken sot of Logan, and all his familydown to the tiny maid of ten. Ay, sir, I have seen Logan's childrenlying drunk in the road there by Greathouse's tavern--poor, littlebabies of twelve and ten, stark-naked, lying drunk in the rain!"

  After a moment I asked why he had not expelled this fiend, Greathouse,and he replied that he had, but that Dunmore had sent him back underhis special protection.

  "What on
earth can I do?" he repeated. "The Cayuga camp is rotten withwhiskey. Their chiefs and sachems come to me and beg me to forbid thesale. I am powerless; for back of me stands Lord Dunmore in the shapeof Greathouse. By God, sir, the man is a nightmare to me!"

  "Why not twist his gullet?" observed Mount.

  Cresap paid him no attention, and the big fellow pouted, mutteringthat it was a simple thing to exterminate vermin.

  As we sat there, I heard the rain drumming against the horn panes inthe window. The room had grown very dark.

  Cresap rose, holding out his hand to me.

  "Shall I administer the oath of fellowship, my friend?" he asked.

  "Not yet," I replied, taking his hand.

  "When you are ready, Mr. Cardigan," he said, simply. "Will you lodgehere? That is well; the fort is not safe. And, if I mistake not, youngButler will be here to-morrow to search for you. He begged me to haveyou arrested should you be in my camp."

  "I shall be at the Cayuga castle by dawn," I said.

  "And after that?" inquired Mount. "You are not going to leave us, areyou, lad?"

  "I have my message to deliver to Sir William," I answered, earnestly;"and," I added, "truly, I do not believe there is anything on earththat can prevent my delivering my message, nor retard my returning andslaying this frightful enemy of mankind, Walter Butler."