CHAPTER XVI
THE RECKONING
Robert's belief that the issue was at hand was so strong that it was notshaken at all, while they hovered about the town for a while. He heardthrough Charteris that Wolfe was again ill, that he had suffered aterrible night, but that day had found him better, and, despite hiswasted frame and weakness, he was among the troops, kindling theircourage anew, and stimulating them to greater efforts.
"A soul of fire in an invalid's frame," said Charteris, and Robertagreed with him.
Through Zeb Crane's amazing powers as a spy, he heard that the Frenchwere in the greatest anxiety over Wolfe's movements. They had thought atfirst that he was abandoning the siege, and then that he meditated anattack at some new point. Montcalm below the town and Bougainville aboveit were watching incessantly. Their doubts were increased by the fiercebombardments of the British fleet, which poured heavy shot into theLower Town and the French camp. The French cannon replied, and the hillsechoed with the roar, while great clouds of smoke drifted along theriver.
Then an afternoon came when Robert felt that the next night and daywould tell a mighty tale. It was in the air. Everybody showed a tenseexcitement. The army was being stripped for battle. He knew that thetroops on the Heights of Levis and at Orleans had been ordered to marchalong the south shore of the St. Lawrence and join the others. The fleetwas ready, as always, and the army was to embark. This concentrationcould not be for nothing. Before the twilight he saw Charteris and theyshook hands, which was both a salute and a farewell.
"We take ship after dark," said Charteris, "and I know as surely as I'mstanding here that we make some great attempt to-night. The omens andpresages are all about us."
"I feel that way, too," said Robert.
"Tododaho will soon appear on his star," said Tayoga, who was withRobert, "but, though I cannot see him, I hear his whisper already."
"What does it say?" asked Robert.
"The whisper of Tododaho tells me that the time has come. We shall meetthe enemy in a great battle, but he does not say who will win."
"I believe that, if we can bring Montcalm to battle, we can gain thevictory," said Charteris. "I for one, Tayoga, thank you for theprophecy."
"And I," said Robert. "But we'll be together to the end."
"Aye, Dagaeoga, and together we shall see what happens."
Robert also saw the Philadelphians and the Virginians, and he shookhands with them in turn, every one of them giving a silent toast tovictory or death. He found Grosvenor with his own regiment, theGrenadiers.
"We may meet somewhere to-morrow, Grosvenor," he said, "but neither ofus knows where, nor under what circumstances."
"Just so we meet after victory, that's enough," said Grosvenor.
"Aye, so it is."
The boom of a cannon came from down the river, it was followed byanother and another and then by many, singularly clear in the Septembertwilight. A powerful British fleet ranged up in front of the Beauportshore and opened a fierce fire on the French redoubts. It seemed as ifWolfe were trying to force a landing there, and the French guns replied.In the distance, with the thunder of the cannonade and the flashes offire, it looked as if a great battle were raging.
"It is nothing," said Willet to Robert, "or rather it is only a feint.It will make Montcalm below the town think he is going to be attacked,and it will make Bougainville above it rest more easily. The French arealready worn down by their efforts in racing back and forth to meet us.Our command over the water is a wonderful thing, and it alone makesvictory possible."
Robert, Willet and Tayoga with a dozen rangers went into a long boat,whence they looked up at the tall ships that carried the army, andwaited as patiently as they could for the order to move.
"See the big fellow over there," said Willet, pointing to one of theships.
Robert nodded.
"That's the _Sutherland_, and she carries General Wolfe. Like the boatof Caesar, she bears our fortunes."
"Truly 'tis so," said Robert.
A good breeze was blowing down the river, and, at that moment, the starswere out.
"I see Tododaho with the wise snakes in his hair," said Tayoga in anawed whisper, "and he looks directly down at me. His eyes speak moreplainly than his whisper that I heard in the twilight. Now, I know thatsome mighty event is going to happen, and that the dawn will be heavywith the fate of men."
The sullen boom of a cannon came from a point far down the river, andthen the sullen boom of another replying. Quebec, on its rock, lay darkand silent. Robert was shaken by a kind of shiver, and a thrill oftremendous anticipation shot through him. He too knew instinctively thatthey were upon the threshold of some mighty event. Whatever happened, hecould say, if he lived, that he was there, and, if he fell, he would atleast die a glorious death. His was the thrill of youth, and it waswholly true.
It was two hours past midnight and the ebb tide set in. The good windwas still blowing down the river. Two lanterns went aloft in the riggingof the _Sutherland_, and the signal for one of the great adventures ofhistory was given. All the troops had gone into boats earlier in theevening, and now they pulled silently down the stream, Wolfe in one ofthe foremost.
Robert sat beside Tayoga, and Willet was just in front of them. Some ofthe stars were still out, but there was no moon and the night was dark.It seemed that all things had agreed finally to favor Wolfe's supremeand last effort. The boats carrying the army were invisible from thelofty cliffs and no spying canoes were on the stream to tell that theywere there. Robert gazed up at the black heights, and wondered wherewere the French.
"Are we going directly against Quebec?" he whispered to Willet. "'Tisimpossible to storm it upon its heights."
"Nay, lad, nothing is impossible. As you see, we go toward Quebec and Ithink we land in the rear of it. 'Tis young men who lead us, the boldestof young men, and they will dare anything. But I tell you, Robert, ourcoming to Quebec is very different from what it was when we came herewith a message from the Governor of the Province of New York."
"And our reception is like to be different, too. What was that? Itsounded like the splash of a paddle ahead of us."
"It was only a great fish leaping out of the water and then falling backagain," said Tayoga. "There is no enemy on the stream. Truly Manitouto-night has blinded the French and the warriors, their allies. Montcalmis a great leader, and so is St. Luc, but they do not know what iscoming. We shall meet them in the morning. Tododaho has said so to me."
The boats passed on in their slow drifting with the tide. Once near to alofty headland, they were hailed by a French sentinel, who heard thecreaking of the boats, and who saw dim outlines in the dark, but aScotch officer, who spoke good French, made a satisfactory reply. Theboats drifted on, and the sentinel went back to his dreams, perhaps ofthe girl that he had left in France.
"Did I not tell you that Manitou had blinded the French and thewarriors, their allies, to-night?" whispered Tayoga to Robert."Ninety-nine times out of a hundred the sentinel would have asked more,or he would have insisted upon seeing more in the dark, but Manitoudulled his senses. The good spirits are abroad, and they work for us."
"Truly, I believe it is so, Tayoga," said Robert.
"The French don't lack in vigilance, but they must be worn out," saidWillet. "It's one thing to sail on ships up and down a river, but it'squite another for an army racing along lofty, rough and curving shoresto keep pace with it."
They were challenged from another point of vantage by a sentinel andthey saw him running down to the St. Lawrence, pistol in hand, to makegood his question. But the same Scotch officer who had answered thefirst placated him, telling him that theirs were boats loaded withprovisions, and not to make a noise or the English would hear him. Againwas French vigilance lulled, and they passed on around the headlandabove Anse du Foulon.
"The omens are ours," whispered Tayoga, with deep conviction. "Now, Iknow that we shall arrive at the place to which we want to go. UnlessManitou wishes us to go there, he wo
uld not have twice dulled the sensesof French sentinels who could have brought a French army down upon uswhile we are yet in the river. And, lo! here where we are going to landthere is no sentinel!"
"Under heaven, I believe you're right, Tayoga!" exclaimed Willet, withintense earnestness.
The boats swung in to the narrow beach at the foot of the lofty cliffand the men disembarked rapidly. Then, hanging to rocks and shrubs, theybegan to climb. There was still no alarm, and Robert held his breath insuspense, and in amazement too. He did not know just where they were,but they could not be very far from Quebec, and General Wolfe wasliterally putting his head in the lion's mouth. He knew, and every onearound him knew, that it was now victory or death. He felt again thattremendous thrill. Whatever happened, he would be in it. He keptrepeating that fact to himself and the thought of death was not withhim.
"The dawn will soon be at hand," he said; "I feel it coming. If we canhave only a half hour more! Only a half hour!"
"It will come with clouds," said Tayoga. "Manitou still favors us. Hewills that we shall reach the top."
Robert made another pull and surmounted the crest. Everywhere thesoldiers were pouring over the top. A small body of French sentinels wastaken by surprise. Some of them were captured, and the others escaped inthe dusk to carry the alarm to the city, to Montcalm and toBougainville. But Wolfe was on the heights before Quebec. From pointsfarther up the river came the crash of cannon. It was the Frenchbatteries firing upon the last of the boats, and upon the ships bringingdown the rest of the troops. But it was too late to stop the Britisharmy, which included Americans, who were then British too.
"The dawn is here," said Tayoga.
The east was breaking slowly into dull light. Heavy clouds were floatingup from the west, and the air was damp with the promise of rain. TheBritish army was forming rapidly into line of battle, but no army was infront of it. The daring enterprise of the night was a complete success,and Montcalm had been surprised. He was yet to know that his enemy hadscaled the heights and was before Quebec.
"We've gained a field of battle for ourselves," said Willet, "and it'snow for us to win the battle itself."
The mind of Wolfe was at its supreme activity. A detachment, sentswiftly, seized the battery at Samos that was firing upon the ships andboats. Another battery, farther away at Sillery, was taken also, and thelanding of additional troops was covered. A party of Canadians who cameout of the town to see who these intrusive strangers might be, weredriven back in a hurry, and then Wolfe and his officers advanced tochoose their ground, the rangers hovering on the flanks of the regulars.
Where the plateau was only a mile wide and before Quebec, the generaltook his stand with the lofty cliffs of the St. Lawrence on the southand the meadows of the St. Charles on the north. The field, the famousPlains of Abraham, was fairly level with corn fields and bushes here andthere. A battalion of the Royal Americans was placed to guard the fordof the St. Charles, but Robert saw the others, his friends among them,formed up in the front ranks, where the brunt of the battle would fall.Another regiment was in reserve. The rangers, with Robert, Tayoga andWillet, still hovered on the flanks.
Robert felt intense excitement. He always believed afterward that heunderstood even at that instant the greatness of the cloudy dawn thathad come, and the momentous nature of the approaching conflict, holdingin its issue results far greater than those of many a battle in whichten times the numbers were engaged.
"How far away is Quebec?" he asked.
"Over there about a mile," replied Willet. "We can't see it because theridge that the French call the Buttes-a-Neveu comes in between."
"But look!" exclaimed Robert. "See, what is on the ridge!"
The stretch of broken ground was suddenly covered with white uniforms.They were French soldiers, the battalion of Guienne, aroused in theircamp near the St. Charles River by the firing, and come swiftly to seewhat was the matter. There they stood, staring at the scarlet ranks,drawn up in battle before them, unable to credit their eyes at first,many of them believing for the moment that it was some vision of thecloudy dawn.
"I think that Montcalm's army will soon come," said Willet to Robert."You see, we're literally between three fires. We're facing the garrisonof Quebec, while we have Montcalm on one side of us and Bougainville onthe other. The question is which will it be, Bougainville or Montcalm,but I think it will be Montcalm."
"I know it will be Montcalm," said Robert, "and I know too that when hecomes St. Luc will be with him."
"Aye, St. Luc will be with him. That's sure."
It was even so. Montcalm was already on his way. The valiant general ofFrance, troubled by the hovering armies and fleets of Britain, uncertainwhere they intended to strike or whether they meant to strike at all,had passed a sleepless night. At dawn the distant boom of the cannon,firing at the English ships above the town, had come to his ears. Anofficer sent for news to the headquarters of the Marquis de Vaudreuil,the Governor-General of New France, much nearer to the town, had notreturned, and, mounting, he galloped swiftly with one of his aides tolearn the cause of the firing. Near the Governor-General's house theycaught a distant gleam of the scarlet ranks of Wolfe's army, nearly twomiles away.
When Montcalm saw that red flash his agitation and excitement becameintense. It is likely that he understood at once the full danger, thathe knew the crisis for Canada and France was at hand. But he dispatchedimmediately the orders that would bring his army upon the scene. TheGovernor-General, already alarmed, came out of his house and theyexchanged a few words. Then Montcalm galloped over the bridge across theSt. Charles and toward the British army. It is stated of him that duringthis ride his face was set and that he never spoke once to his aides.
Behind Montcalm came his army, hurrying to the battle-field, and, takingthe quickest course, it passed through Quebec, entering at the PalaceGate and passing out through those of St. Louis and St. John, hastening,always hastening, to join the battalion of Guienne, which already stoodin its white uniforms and beneath its banners on the Buttes-a-Neveu.
Montcalm's army included the veterans of many victories. Through longyears they had fought valiantly for France in North America. AtTiconderoga they had shown how they could triumph over great odds, overmen as brave as themselves, and, as they pressed through the narrowstreets of the quaint old town, they did not doubt that they were goingto another victory. With them, too, were the swart Canadians fightingfor their homes, their flag and, as they believed then, for theirreligion, animated, too, by confidence in their courage, and belief inthe skill of their leaders who had so seldom failed.
Behind the French and the Canadians were the Indians who had been drawnso freely to Montcalm's banner by his success, thinking anew ofslaughter and untold spoil, such as they had known at William Henry andsuch as they might have had at Ticonderoga. The gigantic Tandakora,painted hideously, led them, and in all that motley array there was nosoul more eager than his for the battle.
On that eventful morning, which the vast numbers of later wars cannotdim, the councils of France were divided. Vaudreuil, fearing an attackon the Beauport shore, did not give the valiant Montcalm all the helpthat he could spare, nor did De Ramesay, commanding the garrison ofQuebec, send the artillery that the Marquis asked.
But Montcalm was resolute. His soul was full of fire. He looked at theranks of Wolfe's army drawn up before him on the Plains of Abraham, andhe did not hesitate to attack. He would not wait for Bougainville, norwould he hold back for the garrison of Quebec. He saw that the gauge ofbattle had been flung down to him and he knew that he must march at onceupon the British--and the Americans. Mounted on a black horse, he rodeup and down the lines, waving or pointing his sword, his dark face alivewith energy.
Montcalm now formed his men in three divisions. M. de Senezergues ledthe left wing made up of the regiments of Guienne and Royal Roussillon,supported by Canadian militia. M. de Saint Ours took the right wing withthe battalion of La Sarre and more Canadian militia. Montcalm was in th
ecenter with the regiment of Languedoc and the battalion of Bearn. Onboth flanks were Canadians and numerous Indians.
Robert from his position on a little knoll with Willet and Tayogawatched all these movements, and he was scarcely conscious of thepassage of time. There was a shifting in the British army also, as itperfected its alignment, and the bagpipes of the Scotchmen were alreadyscreaming defiance, but his eyes were mainly for the French before him.He recognized Montcalm as he rode up and down the lines, raising hissword, and presently he saw another gallant figure on horseback that heknew. It was St. Luc, and the old thrill shot through him: St. Luc forwhom the ancient M. de Chatillard had taken him, St. Luc with whom hemust have some blood tie.
Though it was now far beyond the time for the rising of the sun, the daywas still dark, heavy with clouds, and now and then a puff of rain wasblown in the faces of the waiting men, though few took notice. The waitand the preparations had to Robert all the aspects of a duel, and theincessant shrill screaming of the Scotch bagpipes put a fever in hisblood, setting all the little pulses in his head and body to beating.Ever after he maintained that the call of the bagpipes was the mostmartial music in the world.
The crackle of firing broke out on the flanks. The Canadian and Indiansharpshooters, from the shelter of houses, bushes and knolls, had openedfire. Now and then a man in scarlet fell, but the army of Wolfe neithermoved nor replied, though some of the New England rangers, stealingforward, began to send bullets at their targets.
"I see Tandakora," said Tayoga, "and, in an hour, the score between uswill be settled. Tododaho told me so last night, but it is stilluncertain which shall be the victor."
"Can't you get a shot at him?" asked Robert.
"It is not yet time, Dagaeoga. Tododaho will say when the moment comesfor me to pull trigger on the Ojibway."
Then Robert's gaze shifted back to the figure of St. Luc. The chevalierrode a white horse, and he was helping Montcalm to form the lines in thebest order for the attack. He too held in his hand a sword, the smallsword that Robert had seen before, but he seldom waved it.
"Are they ever coming?" asked Robert, who felt as if he had beenstanding on the field many hours.
"We've not long to wait now, lad," replied Willet. "Our own army isready and I think the fate of America will soon be decided here on thiscloudy morning."
Another light puff of rain struck Robert in the face, but as before hedid not notice it. The crackling fire of the sharpshooters increased.They were stinging the British flanks and more men in scarlet fell, butthe army of Wolfe remained immovable, waiting, always waiting. It wasfor Montcalm now to act. French field pieces added their roar to thecrackle of rifles and muskets, and now and then the fierce yell of theIndians rose above both. Robert thought he saw a general movement in theFrench lines, and his thought was Willet's also.
"The moment has come! Steady, lads! Steady!" said the hunter.
The whole French army suddenly began to advance, the veterans and themilitia together, uttering great shouts, while the Indians on the flanksgave forth the war whoop without ceasing. Robert remained motionless.The steadfastness of soul that he had acquired on the island controlledhim now. Inwardly he was in a fever, but outwardly he showed no emotion.He glanced at Montcalm on the black horse, and St. Luc on the white, andthen at the scarlet and silent ranks of Wolfe's army. But the Frenchwere coming fast, and he knew that silence would soon burst into suddenand terrible action.
"The French lines are being thrown into confusion by the unevenness ofthe ground and the rapidity of their advance," said Willet. "Theirsurprise at our being here is so great that it has unsteadied them. Nowthey are about to open fire!"
The front of the charging French burst into flame and the bullets sangin the scarlet ranks. Wolfe's army suddenly began to move forward, butstill it did not fire, although the battle of the skirmishers on theflanks was rapidly increasing in ferocity. The rangers were busy now,replying to the Indians and Canadians, but Robert still took rapidglances and he looked oftenest toward the Americans, where his friendsstood. The advance of the French became almost a run, and he saw all themuskets and rifles of his own army go up.
A tremendous volley burst from the scarlet ranks, so loud and so closetogether that it sounded like one vast cannon shot. It was succeededpresently by another, and then by an irregular but fierce fire, whichdied in its turn to let the smoke lift.
Robert saw a terrible sight. The ground where the French army had stoodwas literally covered with dead and wounded. The two volleys fired atclose range had mowed them down like grain. The French army, smittenunto death, was reeling back, and the British, seizing the moment,rushed forward with bayonet and drawn sword. The Highlanders, as theycharged with the broadsword, uttered a tremendous yell, and Robert sawhis own Americans in the front of the rush. He caught one glimpse of thetall figure of Charteris and he saw Colden near him. Then they were alllost in the smoke as they attacked.
But Wolfe had fallen. Struck by three bullets, the last time in thebreast, he staggered and sat down. Men rushed to his aid, but he livedjust long enough to know that he had won the victory. Before the firingdied away, he was dead. Montcalm, still on horseback, was shot throughthe body, but he was taken into the city, where he died the night of thenext day. Senezergues, his second in command, was also mortally wounded,and Monckton, who was second to Wolfe, fell badly wounded too.
But Robert did not yet know any of these facts. He was conscious only ofvictory. He heard the triumphant cheers of Wolfe's army and he saw thatthe French had stopped, then that they were breaking. He felt again thatpowerful thrill, but now it was the thrill of victory.
"We win! We win!" he cried.
"Aye, so we do," said Willet, "but here are the Canadians and Indianstrying to wipe out us rangers."
The fire in front of them from the knolls and bushes redoubled, but therangers, adept at such combats, pressed forward, pouring in theirbullets. The Canadians and Indians gave ground and the rangers, circlingabout, attacked them on the flank. Tayoga suddenly uttered a fierceshout and, dropping his rifle, leaped into the open.
"Now, O Tandakora!" he cried. "The time has come and thou hast given methe chance!"
The gigantic figure of Tandakora emerged from the smoke, and the two,tomahawk in hand, faced each other.
"It is you, Tayoga, of the clan of the Bear, of the nation Onondaga, ofthe league of the Hodenosaunee," said the chief. "So you have come atlast that I may spit upon your dead body. I have long sought thismoment."
"Not longer than I, Ojibway savage!" replied Tayoga. "Now you shall knowwhat it is to strike an Onondaga in the mouth, when he is bound andhelpless."
The huge warrior threw back his head and laughed.
"Look your last at the skies, Onondaga," he said, "because you will soonpass into silence and darkness. It is not for a great chief to be slainby a mere boy."
Tayoga said no more, but gazed steadily into the eyes of the Ojibway.Then the two circled slowly, each intently watching every movement ofthe other. The great body of Tandakora was poised like that of apanther, the huge muscles rippling under his bronze skin. But theslender figure of Tayoga was instinct also with strength, and with anincomparable grace and lightness. He seemed to move without effort, likea beam of light.
Tandakora crouched as he moved slowly toward the right. Then his armsuddenly shot back and he hurled his tomahawk with incredible force. TheOnondaga threw his head to one side and the glittering blade, flying on,clove a ranger to the chin. Then Tayoga threw his own weapon, butTandakora, with a quick shift evading it, drew his knife and, rushingin, cried:
"Now I have you, dog of an Onondaga!"
Not in vain was Tayoga as swift as a beam of light. Not in vain was thatlight figure made of wrought steel. Leaping to one side, he drew his ownknife and struck with all his might at the heart of that huge, rushingfigure. The blade went true, and so tremendous was the blow thatTandakora, falling in a heap, gave up his fierce and savage soul.
"They run
! They run!" cried Robert. "The whole French army is running!"
It was true. The entire French force was pouring back toward the gatesof the city, their leaders vainly trying to rally the soldiers. Theskirmishers fell back with them. A figure, darting from a bush, turnedto pull trigger on Robert, and then uttered a cry of terror.
"A ghost! It is a ghost!" he exclaimed in French.
But a second look told Achille Garay that it was no ghost. It may havebeen a miracle, but it was Robert Lennox come back in the flesh, and hisfinger returned to the trigger. Another was quicker. The hunter saw him.
"That for you, Garay!" he cried, and sent a bullet through the spy'sheart. Then, drawing the two lads with him, he rushed forward inpursuit.
The confusion in the French army was increasing. Its defeat was fastbecoming a rout, but some of the officers still strove to stay thepanic. Robert saw one on a white horse gallop before a huddle of fleeingmen. But the soldiers, swerving, ran on. A bullet struck the horse andhe fell. The man leaped clear, but looked around in a dazed manner. Thena bullet struck him too, and he staggered. Robert with a cry rushedforward, and received into his arms the falling figure of St. Luc.
He eased the Chevalier to the ground and rested his head upon his knee.
"He isn't dead!" he exclaimed. "He's only shot through the shoulder!"
"Now, this is in truth the hand of Providence," said Willet gravely,"when you are here in the height of a great battle to break the fall ofyour own uncle!"
"My uncle!" exclaimed Robert.
The Chevalier Raymond Louis de St. Luc smiled wanly.
"Yes, my nephew," he said, "your own uncle, though wounded grievously,on this the saddest of all days for France, son of my dear, dead sister,Gabrielle."
Then he fainted dead away from loss of blood, and the Canadian, Dubois,appearing suddenly, helped them to revive him. Robert hung over him withirrepressible anxiety.
"The brother of my mother!" he exclaimed. "I always felt there was apowerful tie, a blood tie, uniting us! That was why he spared me sooften! That was why he told me how to escape at Ticonderoga! He will notdie, Dave? He will not die?"
"No, he will not die," replied Willet. "The Marquis de Clermont canreceive a greater wound than that, and yet live and flourish."
"The Marquis de Clermont!"
"Aye, the Chevalier de St. Luc is head of one of the greatest familiesof France and you're his next of kin."
"And so I'm half a Frenchman!"
"Aye, half a Frenchman, half an Englishman, and all an American."
"And so I am!" said Robert.
"Truly it is a great morning," said Tayoga gravely. "Tododaho has givento me the triumph, and Tandakora has gone to his hereafter, wherever itmay be; the soul of Garay is sped too, France has lost Canada, andDagaeoga has found the brother of his mother."
"It's true," said Willet in a whimsical tone. "When things begin tohappen they happen fast. The battle is almost over."
But the victorious army, as it advanced, was subjected to a severe fireon the flank from ambushed Canadians. Many of the French threwthemselves into the thickets on the Cote Ste.-Genevieve, and poured ahail of bullets into the ranks of the advancing Highlanders. Vaudreuilcame up from Beauport and was all in terror, but Bougainville andothers, arriving, showed a firmer spirit. The gates of Quebec were shut,and it seemed to show defiance, while the English and Americans, stillin the presence of forces greater than their own, intrenched on thefield where they had won the victory, a victory that remains one of thedecisive battles of the world, mighty and far-reaching in itsconsequences.
A night of mixed triumph and grief came, grief for the loss of Wolfe andso many brave men, triumph that a daring chance had brought such abrilliant success. Robert found Charteris, Grosvenor, Colden and theVirginians unharmed. Wilton was wounded severely, but ultimatelyrecovered his full strength. Carson was wounded also, but was as well asever in a month, while Robert himself, Tayoga, Willet and Zeb Crane werenot touched.
But his greatest interest that night was in the Chevalier de St. Luc,Marquis de Clermont. They had made him a pallet in a tent and one of thebest army surgeons was attending so famous and gallant an enemy. But heseemed easiest when Robert was by.
"My boy," he said, "I always tried to save you. Whenever I looked uponyou I saw in your face my sister Gabrielle."
"But why did you not tell me?" asked Robert. "Why did not some one ofthe others who seemed to know tell me?"
"There were excellent reasons," replied the wounded man. "Gabrielleloved one of the Bostonnais, a young man whom she met in Paris. He wasbrave, gallant and true, was your father, Richard Lennox. I have nothingto say against him, but our family did not consider it wise for her tomarry a foreigner, a member of another race. They eloped and weremarried in a little hamlet on the wild coast of Brittany. Then they fledto America, where you were born, and when you were a year old theyundertook to return to France, seeking forgiveness. But it was only astart. The ship was driven on the rocks of Maine and they were lost,your brave, handsome father and my beautiful sister--but you were saved.Willet came and took you into the wilderness with him. He has stood inthe place of your own father."
"But why did not they tell me?" repeated Robert. "Why was I left so longin ignorance?"
"There was a flaw. The priest who performed the marriage was dead. Therecords were lost. The evil said there had been no marriage, and thatyou were no rightful member of the great family of De Clermont. We couldnot prove the marriage then and so you were left for the time withWillet."
"Why did Willet take me?"
Raymond Louis de St. Luc turned to Willet, who sat on the other side ofthe pallet, and smiled.
"I will answer you, Robert," said the hunter. "I was one of those wholoved your mother. How could any one help loving her? As beautiful as adream, and a soul of pure gold. She married another, but when she waslost at sea something went out of my life that could never be replacedin this world. You have replaced it partly, Robert, but not wholly. Itseemed fitting to the others that, being what I was, and lovingGabrielle de Clermont as I had, I should take you. I should have takenyou anyhow."
Robert's head swam, and there was a mist before his eyes. He wasthinking of the beautiful young mother whom he could not remember.
"Then I am by blood a De Clermont, and yet not a De Clermont," he said.
"You're a De Clermont by blood, by right, and before all the world,"said Willet. "I've a letter from Benjamin Hardy in New York, statingthat the records have been found in the ruins of the burned church onthe coast of Brittany, where the marriage was performed. Theirauthenticity has been acknowledged by the French government and all themembers of the De Clermont family who are in France. Copies of them havebeen smuggled through from France."
"Thanks to the good God!" murmured St. Luc.
"And Adrian Van Zoon? Why has he made such war against me?" askedRobert.
"Because of money," replied Willet. "Your father was a great owner ofshipping, inherited, as Richard Lennox was a young man under thirty whenhe was lost at sea. At his death the control of it passed into the handsof his father's partner, Adrian Van Zoon. Van Zoon wanted it all, and,since you had no relatives, he probably would have secured it if you hadbeen put out of the way. That is why you were safer with me at Albanyand in the woods, until your rightful claims could be established.Benjamin Hardy, who had been a schoolmate and great friend of yourfather, knew of this and kept watch on Van Zoon. Your estate has notsuffered in the man's hands, because, expecting it to be his own, he hasmade it increase. Jonathan Pillsbury knew your history too. So didJacobus Huysman, in whose house we placed you when you went to school,and so did your teacher, Master Alexander McLean."
"I had powerful friends. I felt it all the time," said Robert.
"So you had, lad, and it was largely because they saw you grow up worthyof such friendship. You're a very rich man, Robert. There are shipsbelonging to you on nearly every sea, or at least there would be if wehad no war."
&
nbsp; "And a Marquis of France--when I die," said St. Luc.
"No! No!" exclaimed Robert. "You'll live as long as I will! Why, you'reonly a young man!"
"Twenty-nine," said St. Luc. "Gabrielle was twelve years older than Iam. You are more a younger brother than a nephew to me, Robert."
"But I will never become a Marquis of France," said Robert. "I amAmerican, English to the core. I have fought against France, though I donot hate her. I cannot go to France, nor even to England. I must stay inthe country in which I was born, and in which my father was born."
"Spoken well," said Willet. "It was what I wanted to hear you say. TheChevalier will return to France. He will marry and have children of hisown. Haven't we heard him sing often about the girl he left on thebridge of Avignon? The next Marquis of Clermont will be his son and nothis nephew."
Which came to pass, as Willet predicted.
Robert stayed long that night by the pallet of his uncle, to whom theEnglish gave the best of attention, respecting the worth of a woundedprisoner so well known for his bravery, skill and lofty character. St.Luc finally fell asleep, and, going outside, Robert found Tayogaawaiting him. When he told him all the strange and wonderful story thathe had heard inside the tent, the Onondaga said:
"I suppose that Dagaeoga, being a great man, will go to Europe andforget us here."
"Never!" exclaimed Robert. "My home is in America. All I know isAmerica, and I'd be out of place in any other country."
And then he added whimsically:
"I couldn't go so far away from the Hodenosaunee."
"Dagaeoga might go far and yet never come to a nation greater than thegreat League," said Tayoga, with deep conviction.
"That's true, Tayoga. How stands the battle? I had almost forgotten itin the amazing tide of my own fortunes."
"General Wolfe is dead, but his spirit lives after him. We arevictorious at all points. The French have fled into Quebec, and they yethave an army much more numerous than ours, if they get it all together.But Montcalm was wounded and they say he is dying. The soul has gone outof them. I think Quebec will be yielded very soon."
And surrendered it was a few days later, but the victors soon found thatthe city they had won with so much daring would have to be defended withthe utmost courage and pertinacity. St. Luc, fast recovering from hiswound, was sent a prisoner to New York, together with De Galissonniere,who had been taken unhurt, but Robert did not get away as soon as he hadexpected. Quebec was in peril again, but now from the French. De Levis,who succeeded Montcalm as the military leader of New France, gatheringtogether at Montreal all the fragments of the French power in Canada,swore to retake Quebec.
Robert, Tayoga and Willet, with the rangers, served in the garrison ofQuebec throughout the long and bitter winter that followed. In thespring they moved out with the army to meet De Levis, who was advancingfrom Montreal to keep his oath. Robert received a slight wound in thebattle of Ste. Foy that followed, in which the English and Americanswere defeated, and were compelled to retreat into Quebec.
This battle of Ste. Foy, in which Robert distinguished himself againwith the New England rangers, was long and fierce, one of the mostsanguinary ever fought on Canadian soil. De Levis, the French commander,showed all the courage and skill of Montcalm, proving himself a worthysuccessor to the leader who had fallen with Wolfe, and his men displayedthe usual French fire and courage.
Hazen, the chief of the rangers, was badly wounded in the height of theaction, but Robert and Willet succeeded in bringing him off the field,while Tayoga protected their retreat. A bullet from the Onondaga's riflehere slew Colonel de Courcelles, and Robert, on the whole, was glad thatthe man's death had been a valiant one. He had learned not to cherishrancor against any one, and the Onondaga and the hunter agreed with him.
"There is some good in everybody," said Willet. "We'll remember that andforget the rest."
But Robert's friends in the Royal Americans had a hard time of it in thebattle of Ste. Foy, even harder than in Wolfe's battle on the Plains ofAbraham. They were conspicuous for their valor and suffered manycasualties. Colden, Cabell and Stuart were wounded, but took nopermanent hurt. Charteris also received a slight wound, but he recoveredentirely before his marriage in the summer with the lovely Louise de St.Maur, the daughter of the Seigneur Raymond de St. Maur, in whose househe had been a prisoner a long time in Quebec.
It was Robert's own personal contact and his great friendship forCharteris, continuing throughout their long lives in New York, thatcaused him to take such a strong and permanent interest in thisparticular regiment which had been raised wholly in the colonies andwhich fought so valiantly at Duquesne, Louisbourg, Ticonderoga, Quebec,Ste. Foy, and in truth in nearly all the great North American battles ofthe Seven Years' War.
It was at first the Sixty-Second Regular Regiment of the British Army,"Royal American Provincials," but through the lapsing of two otherregiments it soon became the Sixtieth. Its valor and distinction were sohigh when composed wholly of Americans, except the superior officers,that nearly seventy years subsequent to the fall of Quebec theEnglishmen, who after the great quarrel had replaced the Americans init, asked that they be allowed to use as their motto the Latin phrase,_Celer et audax_, "Swift and Bold," "Quick and Ready," which Wolfehimself was said to have conferred upon it shortly before his fall uponthe Plains of Abraham. And in memory of the great deeds of theirAmerican predecessors, the gallant Englishmen who succeeded them werepermitted by the British government to use that motto.
Despite their defeat at Ste. Foy, the English and Americans held thecapital against De Levis until another British fleet arrived andcompelled the retreat of the brave Frenchmen. More reenforcements camefrom England, the powerful army of Amherst advanced from the south,Montreal was taken, and it was soon all over with New France.
Canada passed to England, and after its fall English and Americantroops, men of the same blood, language and institutions, did not standtogether again in a great battle for more than a century and a half, andthen, strangely enough, it was in defense of that France which under oneflag they had fought at Duquesne and Ticonderoga, at Quebec and Ste.Foy.
Robert, Tayoga and Willet went back to the colonies by land, and after along journey stopped at Albany, where they received the warmest ofwelcomes from Master Jacobus Huysman, Master Alexander McLean andCaterina.
"I knew Robert that some time you would come into your own. I hold someof the papers about you in my great chest here," said Jacobus Huysman."Now it iss for you to show that you understand how to use great fortunewell."
"And never forget your dates," said Master Alexander. "It is well toknow history. All the more so, because you have had a part in the makingof it."
Warm as was their welcome in Albany, it was no warmer than that giventhem in New York by Benjamin Hardy and Jonathan Pillsbury. The very nextday they went to the house of Adrian Van Zoon for a reckoning, only tofind him dead in his bed. He had heard the night before of Robert'sarrival; in truth, it was his first intimation that young Lennox wasalive, and that all his wicked schemes against him had failed.
"It may have been a stroke of heart disease," said Benjamin Hardy, asthey turned away, "or----"
"He has gone and his crimes have gone with him," said Robert. "I don'twish ever to know how he went."
A little later the Chevalier Raymond Louis de St. Luc, Marquis deClermont, the war now being over, sailed with his faithful Canadianattendant, Dubois, from New York for France. The parting between him andhis nephew was not demonstrative, but it was marked by the deepestaffection on either side.
"France has been defeated, but she is the eternal nation," said St. Luc."She will be greater than ever. She will be more splendid than before."
The De Clermonts were a powerful stock, with their roots deep in thesoil. A son of St. Luc's became a famous general under Napoleon, a greatcavalry leader of singular courage and capacity, and a lineal descendantof his, a general also, fought with the same courage and ability underJoffre and Foch i
n the World War, being especially conspicuous for hisservices at both the First and Second Marne. At the Second Marne he gavea heartfelt greeting to two young American officers named Lennox,calling them his cousins and brothers-in-arms, in blood as well as inspirit. They were together in the immortal counter-stroke on the morningof July 18, 1918, when Americans and French turned the tide of the WorldWar, and sealed anew an old friendship. They were also togetherthroughout those blazing one hundred and nineteen days when British,French and Americans together, old enemies and old friends who hadmingled their blood on innumerable battle-fields, destroyed the greatestmenace of modern times and hurled the pretender to divine honors fromhis throne.
Robert found his fortune to be one of the largest in the New World, buthe kept it in the hands of Benjamin Hardy and David Willet, whoincreased it, and he became the lawyer, orator and statesman for whichhis talents fitted him so eminently. A marked characteristic in the lifeof Robert Lennox, noted by all who knew him, was his liberality ofopinion. He had his share in public life, but the bitterness ofpolitics, then so common in this country as well as others, seemed neverto touch him. He was always willing to give his opponent credit forsincerity, and even to admit that his cause had justice. In his opinionthe other man's point of view could always be considered.
This broadness of mind often caused him to incur criticism, but it hadbecome so much his nature, and his courage was so great, that he wouldnot depart from it. He had been through the terrible war with theFrench, and, even before he knew that he was half a Frenchman by blood,he had gladly acknowledged the splendid qualities of the French, theirbravery and patience, and their logical minds. He always said during theworst throes of their revolution that the French would emerge from itgreater than ever.
His position was similar in the Revolutionary War with the English.While he cast in his lot with his own people, and suffered with them, heinvariably maintained that the English nation was sound at the core. Hehad fought beside them in a great struggle and he knew how strong andtrue they were, and when our own strife was over he was most eager for arenewal of good relations with the English, always saying that the factthat they had quarreled and parted did not keep them from being of thesame blood and family, and hence natural allies.
He consistently refused to hate an individual. He always insisted thatlife was too busy to cherish a grudge or seek revenge. Bad actsinvariably punished themselves in the course of time. He was able to seesome good, a little at least, in everybody. Searching his mind in afteryears, he could even find excuses for Adrian Van Zoon. He would say toWillet that the man loved nothing but money, that perhaps he had beenborn that way and could not help it, that he had made his attempts uponhim under the influence of what was the greatest of all temptations tohim, and that while he paid the slaver to carry him away he had not paidhim to kill him. As for Garay, he would say that he might have exceededorders. He would say the same about the shots the slaver had fired athim at Albany.
This tolerance came partly from his own character, and partly from anenormous experience of life in the raw in his young and formative years.He knew how men were to a large extent the creatures of circumstances,and on the individual in particular his judgments were always mild. Hehad two favorite sayings:
"No man is as bad as he seems to his worst enemy."
"No man is as good as he seems to his best friend."
His own faults he knew perfectly well to be quickness of temper and aproneness to hasty action. Throughout his life he fought against themand he took as his models Willet and Tayoga, who always appeared to himto have a more thorough command over their own minds and impulses thanany other men he ever knew.
Aside from his brilliancy and power in public life, Lennox had otherqualities that distinguished him as a man. He was noted for hiscosmopolitan views concerning human affairs. He had an uncommonlargeness and breadth of vision, all the more notable then, as Americawas, in many respects, outside the greater world of Europe. People inspeaking of him, however, recalled the extraordinary variety andintensity of his experiences. Much of his story was known and it was notdiminished in the telling. He was always at home in the woods. He had anuncommon sympathy for hunters, borderers, pathfinders and all kinds ofwilderness rovers. He understood them and they instinctively understoodhim, invariably finding in him a redoubtable champion. He was alsoclosely in touch with the Indian soul, and his friends used to saylaughingly that he had something of the Indian in his own nature. At allevents, the Great League of the Hodenosaunee found in him a defender andhe was more than once an honored guest in the Vale of Onondaga.
On the other hand, his interest in European affairs was always keen andintelligent, especially in those of England and France, with whose sonshe had come into contact so much during the great war. He maintained alifelong correspondence with his friend, Alfred Grosvenor, whoultimately became a nobleman and who sat for more than forty years inthe House of Lords. Lennox visited him several times in England, bothbefore and after the quarrel between the colonies and the mothercountry, which, however, did not diminish their friendship a particle.In truth, during those troubled times Grosvenor, who was noted for theliberality of his sentiments and for an affection for Americans,conceived during his service as a soldier on their continent in theSeven Years' War, often defended them against the criticism of hiscountrymen, while Lennox, on his side, very boldly told the people thatnothing could alter the fact that England was their mother country, andthat no one should even wish to alter it.
But his correspondence with his uncle, Raymond Louis de St. Luc, Marquisde Clermont, not so many years older than himself, covered a period ofnearly sixty years filled with world-shaking events, and, though it hasbeen printed for private circulation only, it is a perfect mine of fact,comment and illumination. St. Luc was one of the few French noblemen toforesee the great Revolution in his country, and, while he mourned itsexcesses, he knew that much of it was justified. His patriotism andcourage were so high and so obvious that neither Danton, Marat norRobespierre dared to attack him. As an old man he supported Napoleonardently until the empire and the ambitions of the emperor became tooswollen, and, while he mourned Waterloo, he told his son, General RobertLennox de St. Luc, who distinguished himself so greatly there and whoalmost took the chateau of Hougoumont from the English, that it was forthe best, and that it was inevitable. It was the comment of St. Luc,then eighty-five years old and full of experience and wisdom, that avery great man may become too great.
Lennox was noted for his great geniality and his extraordinary capacityfor making friends. Yet there was a strain of remarkable gravity, evenausterity, in his character. There came times when he wished to bealone, to hear no human voices about him. It was then perhaps that hethought his best thoughts and took, too, his best resolutions. In thegreat silences he seemed to see more clearly, and the path lay straightbefore him. Many of his friends thought it an eccentricity, but he knewit was an inheritance from his long stay alone upon the island, a periodin his life that had so much effect in molding his character.
It was this ripeness of mind, based upon fullness of information anddeep meditation, that made him such a great man in the true sense of theword. As a speaker he was without a rival either in form or substance inthe New World. It was said everywhere in New York that the famousAlexander Hamilton and the equally skillful Aaron Burr went to thecourtroom regularly to study his methods. Both admitted quite freely inprivate that they copied his style, though neither was ever able toacquire the wonderful golden voice, the genuine phenomenon that madeLennox so notable.
On one of these occasions, after making a thrilling speech, when hefilled the souls of both Hamilton and Burr with despair, a greatOnondaga sachem, in the full costume of his nation, said to his friendWillet, once a renowned hunter:
"I always knew Dagaeoga could use more words than any one else couldfind in the biggest dictionary."
THE END
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES
Page numbers in the table of conte
nts and in the transcriber's notesbelow refer to the original printed version.
Footnotes have been moved to the end of their respective chapters.
The following typographical errors in the original printed version havebeen noted below and corrected only where indicated.
CHARACTERS IN THE FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR SERIES
The character Louis de Galissonniere appears here as "GALISONNIERE."Although he appears only at one other point in this book, the correctspelling comes from his more frequent appearances in another novel ofthe series, _The Masters of The Peaks_.
The captain of the _Hawk_, Stuart Whyte, is listed here as "WHITE."
The lieutenant of the _Hawk_, John Lanham, is listed here as "LATHAM."
CHAPTER I
(Page 2) The character of Jacobus Huysman has a very noticeable dialect.The spelling of "iss," "wass," and "hass," plus various other words inhis dialogue, is preserved as in the original text.
(Page 17) Alfred Grosvenor is referred as "Grovenor's."
CHAPTER III
(Page 53) "hiden" instead of "hidden." Corrected in this text.
CHAPTER IV
(Page 71) A missing closing quote at "... and so I decided againsthim." Corrected in this text.
CHAPTER V
(Page 92) "probabilty" instead of "probability." Corrected in this text.
(Page 93) "She's going almost due south ..." opens with a single quote.Corrected in this text.
CHAPTER VIII
(Page 144) "firce" instead of "fierce." Corrected in this text.
CHAPTER XI
(Page 203) Once again, Captain Stuart Whyte is referred to as "White."
(Page 214) A missing closing quote at "... for the term of the war, atleast." Corrected in this text.
CHAPTER XII
(Page 221) "You" instead of "your" in "your look iss changed!" Correctedin this text.
CHAPTER XIII
(Pages 245, 246). The name "Todohado" appears twice in quick successionon these pages. Presumably the spirit Tododaho was intended.
(Page 247). Tayoga uses "Degaeoga," presumably meaning Dagaeoga, hisname for Lennox.
(Page 248) "atack" instead of "attack." Corrected in this text.
(Page 255) The location of Isle-aux-Noix appears here as"Isle-aux-noix."
CHAPTER XIV
(Page 266) A comma appeared to terminate the sentence "... laid by theOjibway." Corrected in this text.
(Page 282) The lieutenant of the _Hawk_, John Lanham, is referred to as"Lanhan."
CHAPTER XV
(Page 293) David Willet is referred to as "Willett."
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