CHAPTER VI.
The month of July was drawing to an end, and the hot sun was glaringdown on the parched earth with an almost tropical heat. Even in thedark recesses of the woods, where only here and there a ray couldpenetrate the thick foliage, there was a sultry closeness that seemedto overpower the wayfarer, instead of his being refreshed by a gratefulshade. Look at those two men yonder, one stretched at full length atthe foot of a pine-tree, the other kneeling by his side, and bendingover him, both apparently exhausted with fatigue. From their thinhands and cheeks, bronzed as they are, one may well believe that wantof food has helped to reduce them to their sorry plight, whilst, as aclimax to their sufferings, one of them has been lamed by a snake bite,to which the other is applying some large leaves just gathered near athand.
"'Tis hard upon us that it should come to this, just as we had gotwithin a few miles of our journey's end," said the man who was hurt."Listen! There is the firing again--a regular volley--and cannon too.They are attacking Ticonderoga, that's certain, just as they did atwelvemonth ago."
Here the speaker gave a groan, but not from pain.
"To think, monsieur," he added, "that you should be here, tending poorBoulanger, as if he were your equal, when you might have been strikinga blow yonder for your dear France."
"It is only a pity, my good fellow," replied Isidore, "that I am not ared skin, so that I might find out the right sort of plant to cure thisabominable bite and put you on your legs again."
"Never mind me, I beseech you, monsieur," said the Canadian, faintly;"I shall do well enough, I daresay. Only go and make your way to thefort--it cannot be many miles off--and then perhaps you can come andhelp me later when the enemy are beaten off."
"That I will not," was the reply; "I will die here with you rather thanleave you alone."
There was in truth no mere sentiment in the words. Bravely indeed hadIsidore borne up for many a long week; but fatigue and privation hadtold upon him far more than on the more seasoned frame of hiscompanion, and with the misfortune that had befallen the latter, thestrong hopes that had sustained him gave way, and he felt that he hadno longer strength enough to proceed further.
"To-morrow," said he, with an attempt at an encouraging smile,"to-morrow I shall perhaps be able to carry you."
"To-morrow. Alas!" murmured Boulanger, turning away his face to hidehis emotion. Then suddenly he raised himself, and pointed to a clumpof undergrowth a few yards off. "Look!" whispered he, "a red skin!"
Isidore started to his feet, and levelled his rifle, but instantlythrew it down, and stepping forward cried aloud, "What! my old friendWhite Eagle of Louisburg! Never was any one more welcome. Make hasteand look to my poor comrade."
Without a word the Indian knelt down and examined the bite. Then hestrode away, but soon returned with a handful of simples, which hecarefully bound round the wounded limb.
"Not rattlesnake," said he quietly, "he will not die."
"I could have told you that, friend," said Boulanger, "but when a man'slife depends on his walking on a bit with a leg as big as a bison's, itmight just as well have been a rattlesnake for that matter, to saynothing of having had no food but a raw partridge between two of us forsome days past."
The Indian opened his pouch and placed before them his little stock offood, of which they eagerly partook. Whilst they were thus engaged hesat a little way apart, to all appearance wholly unconcerned. As soon,however, as the provisions were demolished he arose, and addressinghimself to Isidore, said, "Let the young brave follow me. The Canadianmust stay here till you can send him help."
"Not a step do I go without him," replied Isidore, firmly. "If hestays here, I stay here too."
For a moment the expression on the chief's face seemed to bode no good,but it passed away, and after a short pause he set to work without aword, and in a few minutes had cut down a dozen branches from thenearest trees, and wound them into a rude litter. Then silently takingBoulanger up, and laying him upon it as if he had been a mere child, hetook hold of one end of the litter, and signed to Isidore to take theother. He did so, and they at once set out with it, the savagethreading the way through the dense forest with the most marvellousdexterity, and at a pace with which Isidore found it no easy matter tokeep up. Refreshed as he had been by the food he had taken, and buoyedup as he now was by fresh hope on Boulanger's account as well as hisown, he nevertheless felt that a march of any great length would bebeyond his strength. Perhaps the Indian noticed this, for he presentlyslackened his pace.
"I hope we have done right to trust this fellow," Isidore said.
"There is nothing to fear," replied Boulanger. "If he had meantmischief our scalps would long ago have been hanging by the side ofthose others he has at his belt."
All this while they were gradually edging away from the sound of thefiring, which could now only be heard at a remote distance on theirright.
The Indian slackened his pace still more, and seemed to be listeningeagerly as if for some expected sound. Suddenly he stopped, and thelitter having been deposited on the ground, he turned to Isidore,saying, "White Eagle has finished his task." At the same moment heraised his rifle and discharged it in the air, and before theastonished wayfarers could utter a word in reply, he had darted intothe thick wood and disappeared.
"It beats me altogether," said Boulanger; "he has brought us ever sofar away from the fort, and yet I can't think why he should start offlike that. He belongs to one of the Algonquin tribes, and they used tobe allies of ours. Hush! There is some one not far off."
"Qui vive?" shouted a voice from the underwood near them.
"French! Long live King Louis!" cried Isidore, in reply.
The usual challenge followed, and shortly afterwards a French officercautiously emerged from the brushwood, followed by a couple of his men.He seemed not a little astonished on discovering the number andcondition of the supposed enemy, and roughly demanded who they were,and whence they came.
"Well, I suppose," replied Isidore, with a grim smile, "I must not feelinsulted if my friend de Montenac fails to recognise in such ascarecrow his old comrade de Beaujardin."
"De Beaujardin!" exclaimed the officer, amazed and apparentlyhorrified. "For Heaven's sake, how came you in this pitiable state?Stop, not a word," he added, "you are in no condition for talking now.Quick, my men, bring the wounded man along." Then taking Isidore's armhe led him away, followed by the soldiers, who at once took Boulangerunder their charge. In a short time they reached an open space in theforest, where to his great joy Isidore found a considerable body ofFrench soldiers regularly encamped. De Montenac, however, would listento no questions until the wayfarers had been, not only well fed, butfurnished with some better covering than the rags that hung about them.
The short Canadian twilight was gone, and night had come on, as Isidorerelated to his friend as much of his story as it seemed necessary totell him. He concluded thus:--
"They kept us at Fort Duquesne all the winter, possibly not knowingexactly what to do with me, and a couple of months ago sent us off incharge of two burly New England militiamen, though I never knew whatwas our intended destination. These British are always boasting thatone Englishman is a match for three Frenchmen, so I suppose theythought that two must be quite enough to guard a couple of miserablehalf-starved creatures like Boulanger and myself. They had not eventaken the trouble to tie our hands, but simply made us go on in front.During the second day's march I noticed that they had both taken toomuch to drink, so just as we were going down a steep hill, at a signalwe had preconcerted we dropped down right in front of them, and overour backs they went like a shot. Long before they could scramble up wehad got hold of their muskets, and they were rather obliged thanotherwise by our letting them decamp without giving them each a bulletby way of souvenir. Thanks to Boulanger's knowledge of his craft wehave arrived here at last, though it has been no easy matter, I canassure you."
"I quite believe that, judging from your appearanc
e," replied deMontenac laughing; "but I must now go my rounds, and after that youshall hear what news there is with us."
He was absent much longer than was required merely to visit thepickets. Isidore's practised ears indeed told him that there had beenan alarm of some kind, and a shot had been fired in the wood. At lastde Montenac made his appearance.
"The strangest thing has just now happened," said he. "My men caught aspy. He had managed to pass the sentinels, when one of them saw thefellow creeping away among the bushes, and as he did not answer orstop, the man shot him dead. I found on him a note of our strength, tosay nothing of some English guineas, so the rascal fully deserved arope instead of a bullet, but in one of his pockets I came upon this."Here de Montenac handed to Isidore a sheet of paper, the writing onwhich ran as follows:--
"To all whom it may concern.
"This is to certify that the person designated in a royal warrant asIsidore Marquis de Beaujardin, otherwise known as Godefroid, confinedhere during the royal pleasure, is released from further detention, andthe authorities, whether civil or military, are required to permit himto pass freely.
"(Signed) DE VALRICOUR,
"Colonel Commandant of the Fort of Sorel."
Isidore sprang to his feet. "Where is the man?" he gasped out.
"You can see him; he lies dead not a hundred yards off." In a coupleof minutes they had reached the spot, and Isidore no sooner beheld theupturned face of the dead man then he exclaimed, "Just Heaven! it isJasmin."
As soon as he had recovered from the excitement into which thisdiscovery had thrown him, Isidore acquainted his friend with the moreprivate details of his story. "I must start at once for Sorel," saidhe; "I scarcely dare to hope it, but it may be that my unhappy wife wasor is still detained there, and if so, with Heaven's blessing I may seeher again. I shall indeed be thankful if my Uncle de Valricour hasbeen her gaoler."
"Then you can march with us, at least a part of the way," said doMontenac. "Listen! there it goes." As he spoke, an explosion like apeal of thunder was heard in the distance. "De Bourlemaque hasevacuated Fort Ticonderoga and blown it up," added he. "We have beenstationed here to guard against a flank movement and to keep open theroad to Crown Point, on which we are to fall back."
"What! retreat without a fight!" exclaimed Isidore.
"We have scarce three or four thousand men to Amherst's twelve orfourteen thousand, and he is not an Abercromby to run his head againsta wall for nothing. I believe we are not even going to hold CrownPoint, strong as it is. No, no; forty or fifty leagues of well-nighimpassable country lie between this and the St. Lawrence, as you oughtto know, Master Isidore, and that will fight for us without our losinga man. Amherst can only advance by water, and as we have armed vesselson the lake and he has not, why there is as much chance of his doinganything before the winter sets in again, as there is of my being madea Field Marshal."
Thanks to the Indian's simple medicines, and the subsequent care of theregimental surgeon, Boulanger was doing well, and was able, on thefollowing day, to accomplish the short march made by the detachment.Nor was Isidore at first sufficiently strong to do more. Theyaccordingly accompanied the troops as far as Crown Point, and thenpushed forward alone. The journey which the travellers had undertakenwas long and difficult. On reaching the northern end of LakeChamplain, however, they obtained a small canoe, in which theydescended the Richelieu River, and thus reached Sorel.
Here Isidore, to his great disappointment, found that Baron deValricour was no longer commandant of the place, and had quitted it forQuebec early in June. During the three months that had elapsed thelittle garrison had been changed, and the few guarded inquiries whichhe ventured to make respecting any persons formerly detained in thefort proved fruitless.
There was nothing for it but to go on to Quebec, where Boulanger indeedwas anxious to rejoin his family, and they accordingly continued theirjourney, traversing Lake St. Peter, and passing down the St. Lawrencein their canoe. To their surprise and mortification they now foundthat for a considerable distance above Quebec small vessels belongingto the English fleet had the command of the river. Still they madetheir way onward, once or twice narrowly escaping capture by an Englishcutter, until they reached a spot called Le Foullon, about three milesabove the great fortress, where a rugged and winding footpath led tothe top of the lofty and precipitous cliff not far from the Canadian'scottage.
Arrived at the summit, they were instantly challenged, and then takento the officer in command of the detachment posted there. De Montenachad taken the precaution to obtain for Isidore a despatch from Generalde Bourlemaque to Montcalm, and he was at once allowed to pass, as wasBoulanger also when it was found that he was actually the proprietor ofthe house which had been appropriated as the captain's quarters. As toBibi and the little ones, the Canadian ascertained that they had takenrefuge in a less exposed locality near the city.
On entering the fortress, Isidore at once made his way through thetown, and was then directed to the citadel. There, on the extreme andloftiest point, where the white flag of France still waved, stoodMontcalm, "that little body with a mighty soul," surveying the vastlandscape spread out below. In front lay the great lake-like sheet ofwater, six miles in length, and nearly half as broad, formed by theconfluence of the St. Lawrence on the right, and the smaller river, St.Charles, on the left. Far away the united streams are again dividedinto a northern and southern channel by the picturesque Isle ofOrleans. To the right hand is seen Point Levi, and the almostperpendicular banks of the St. Lawrence; on the left the more graduallysloping shore presents a long line of intrenchments and redoubts,reaching to a distance of seven or eight miles, ending at the greatchasm into which the Montmorency River hurls down its waters in a fallof two hundred and fifty feet. Ranges of lofty mountains on every sideform the fitting background of this unrivalled scene.
Montcalm's eyes were riveted on the English fleet, whose countlessmasts bristled all across the further end of the bay, and down thediverging channels beyond it; so deeply indeed was he buried in thoughtthat he did not seem aware of Isidore's approach until the latter wasclose to him. He then turned abruptly and looked at the new-comer, butit was only for a moment.
"Welcome, welcome indeed!" said he, extending his hand, "not as ClaudeBreton however, but as my valued friend and comrade-in-arms, Isidore deBeaujardin."
"I can well believe that I have to thank Monseigneur for that," repliedIsidore, bowing.
Montcalm waved his hand: "It was no more than was due to you," said he."Fortunately a certain M. de Crillon, who seems to have been your evilgenius, has been disgraced at last, and the task became an easy one.But whence do you now come, and what news do you bring?"
"As for myself, I must report to you, _pro forma_, that I duly reachedFort Duquesne, where I was made prisoner, but subsequently escaped, andmade my way to Ticonderoga. I left the army on this side of CrownPoint, which has been evacuated, and I have to hand to you a despatchfrom de Bourlemaque. There is not a chance of Amherst reaching the St.Lawrence in time to co-operate with Wolfe."
"Thanks for that, at all events. My news is less cheering: Niagara islost."
"I had hoped," said Isidore, "that Pouchot would have been able to holdout."
"Not so. The English General Prideaux was killed by the bursting of ashell in his own intrenchments, but Sir William Johnson took thecommand, and nothing could withstand that brave and skilful fellow.Aubrey came to Pouchot's relief with at least a thousand men collectedfrom the other forts, but was beaten in a pitched battle before theplace, which had to surrender at discretion, and the governor andgarrison were made prisoners, but were allowed to march out with thehonours of war. This and the loss of Frontenac make the Englishmasters of all the upper country."
"But here," exclaimed Isidore, eagerly, "here we may yet retrieve itall."
"If it so please God," replied Montcalm; "but though all hope is notyet gone, our chance is but slender. We have kept the enemy at bay for
nearly two months and a half, and on the last day of July we foiled adesperate attack which Wolfe made on the Montmorency redoubts yonder.If we could hold out till winter comes to our aid all would be well,but I have little hope."
"They are masters of all the right bank, are they not?" interposedIsidore.
"Yes, for many miles up the river. If I had had my way I would havethrown a couple of thousand men across and stopped that game, but deVaudreuil overruled me at the outset. He is a traitor, and has ruinedus. What can I do with barely three thousand regulars? The Canadianmilitia are indeed some five or six thousand strong, but I cannot relyon them with any certainty, and with such a fleet at his command it isimpossible to say where Wolfe may next assail us. Look at it! A scoreof ships of the line, with frigates and transports out of number."
"But they have been here since the end of June and have done nothing.This bank of the river is absolutely impregnable, and it seems theycannot force the Montmorency lines."
"It is our last and only chance," replied Montcalm, "and if the worstshould come, a battle before Quebec might save us. I have had,however, to send away a couple of thousand Canadians to try and savesome of the harvest, which is sorely needed, for our commissariat isreduced almost to the last extremity. Yes, de Beaujardin," he added,"there is nothing left for me but to hold out and fight to the last,and die a soldier's death. I would not wish to live to see the fall ofNew France, but that must surely come. But de Valricour has of coursetold you----"
"I have not seen him yet. I came direct to you to report myself," saidIsidore.
"Not seen him!" cried Montcalm in amazement; "but I might have expectedthat from you. Go--go at once--good news is in store for you at allevents, and you are worthy of it." Then turning to an officer who hadjust come up, he added, "Send an orderly with this gentleman to Colonelde Valricour's quarters. Stay; Colonel de Beaujardin is reappointed tohis old position on the staff. See to this at once."
Isidore would have thanked him, but Montcalm was already reading thedespatch just brought to him, and with a full heart the young soldierbent his steps towards his uncle's quarters.
Passing out of the citadel, he had proceeded but a short distance whenthe orderly stopped.
"Here!" exclaimed Isidore, with some agitation, for the house pointedout to him was the very one in which Madame de Rocheval had resided,and where he had seen Marguerite for the first time.
Another orderly at the door bade him enter. He did so, and ascendedthe stairs as if in a dream. He did not even hear the man announcehim, and as he stood at the open door of the saloon his eyes grew dim,and he could see nothing; but he heard a voice cry out, "Isidore! myhusband!" and Marguerite was clasped in his arms.
Tailpiece to Chapter VI]
Headpiece to Chapter VII]