THE DEPARTURE OF PEPIN
After all, Bastien Lagrange had been more frightened than
hurt by Antoine the bear. When Pepin Quesnelle had
satisfied himself that there were no bones broken, and
that the wound from which the blood flowed was a mere
scratch, he, as usual, became ashamed of his late display
of feeling and concern, and again assumed his old truculent
attitude. He gave the breed time to recover his breath,
then roughly asked him whom he thought he was that he
should make such a noisy and ostentatious entry into his
house.
"It ees me, Pepin, your ver' dear friend, Bastien Lagrange,"
whined the big breed, with an aggrieved look at the dwarf
and an apprehensive one at Antoine.
"What, villain, _coquin_, _I_ your ver' dear friend?
--may the good Lord forbid! But sit up, and let me once
more look upon your ugly face. Idiot, _entrez!_ Sit up,
and take this for to drink." So spoke Pepin as he handed
Bastien a dipper of water.
In all truth the shifty breed had an expression on his
face as he tried to put his torn garments to rights that
savoured not a little of idiocy. He had been for the last
three hours working himself into a mood of unconcern and
even defiance, so that he might be able to repel the
attacks of the outspoken Pepin. But now, at the very
first words this terrible manikin uttered, he felt his
heart sinking down into his boots. Still, he bore news
which he fancied would rather stagger the dwarf.
"And so, _mon ami_--"
"_Tenez vous la_, villain! You will pardon me, but I am
not the friend of a turncoat and traitor! _Dis donc_,
you will bear this in mind. Now what is it you have for
to say? _Bien?_"
"_Parbleu!_ what ees ze matter wit' Antoine?" exclaimed
the breed uneasily. "What for he look at me so? Make him
for to go 'way, Pepin."
Pepin caught up his stick and changed the trend of
Antoine's aggressive thoughts. The big brute slunk to
the far end of the room, sat upon his haunches, and
blinked at the party in a disconcerting fashion. Then
Pepin again turned upon Bastien with such a quick, fierce
movement that the latter started involuntarily.
"Bah! blockhead, pudding-head!" cried Pepin impatiently.
"Antoine has only that fire in his mouth that you will
have in the pit below before two, three days when you
have been hanged by the neck or been shot by the soldiers
of the great Queen. Proceed!"
"Aha! you ver' funny man, Pepin, but do you know that
Poundmaker has been catch what zey call ze convoy--sixteen
wagons wit' ze drivers and ze soldiers belongin' to your
great Queen, and now zey haf no more food and zey perish?
Haf you heard that, _mon_--M'sieur Pepin?"
Pepin had not heard it, but then he had heard some awkward
things about Bastien Lagrange, and he immediately proceeded
to let him know that he was acquainted with them. The
soldiers, with their great guns, were now swarming up
the Saskatchewan, and it was only a matter of a few weeks
before Poundmaker and Big Bear would be suing for mercy.
This and more of a disquieting nature did the dwarf tell
the unstable one, so that by the time he had finished
there was no hesitation in Bastien's mind as to which
side he must once and for all definitely espouse. So he
told of the capture of the Douglas party by Poundmaker
and of the fight at Cut-Knife. Then he called Pepin's
attention to the packet he had dropped, and explained
how it had been entrusted to him.
The manikin examined it in silence. A strange look of
intelligence came into his face. He shot a half-shy,
suspicious glance at the breed, but that gentleman, with
an awe-stricken expression, was watching Antoine, as with
sinister design that intelligent animal was piling up
quite a collection of boots, moccasins, and odds and ends
in a corner preparatory to having a grand revenge for
the trick that had been played upon him. He would chew
up every scrap of that leather and buckskin if he wore
his teeth out in the attempt The old lady, fortunately
for him, had left the room.
Pepin opened the packet, and the sight of that plain
little gold brooch and the bunch of prairie forget-me-nots
moved him strangely. After all, his heart was not adamant
where youth and beauty were concerned--he only realised
the immense gulf that was fixed between a man of his
great parts and graces and the average female.
He abruptly ordered Bastien into the summer kitchen to
look for his mother and get something to eat, and then,
when he realised he had the room to himself, he literally
let himself go. He sprang to his feet, and, waving the
flowers and the brooch over his head, advanced a few
paces into the middle of the room, struck a melodramatic
attitude, and, with one hand pressed to his heart, carried
Dorothy's tokens to his lips.
Then he turned and observed Antoine. This somewhat
absent-minded follower had already begun operations on
his little pile; but he had been so taken aback by the
unwonted jubilation of his master, that he stopped work
to gaze upon him in astonishment, and quite forgot to
remove the half-torn moccasin from his mouth. When he
saw he was caught red-handed, he dropped the spoil as he
had dropped the hot potato, and crouched apprehensively.
His master made a fierce rush at him.
"What ho! Antoine, you pig, you!" he cried; "and so you
would have revenge, you chuckle-pate!" And then he punched
Antoine's head.
Just at that moment his mother and Bastien re-entered
the room; the former set Lagrange down at a small table
in a far corner with some food before him. The dwarf
lounged towards the fire-place with an assumed air of
indifference and boredom, and, leaning against the
chimney-piece, stroked his black moustache.
"What is it, Pepin, my son?" asked the old lady anxiously.
"Oh, nothing--nothing, my mother; only that they are at
it again!"
"The shameless wretches!" she exclaimed; "will they never
cease? Who is it this time, Pepin?"
"Only that young Douglas female we have spoke about"--he
tried hard to infuse contempt into his voice--"she wants
me to go to her! Just think of it mother! But she is a
preesonar, and, perhaps, it is also my help she wants.
And she was a nice girl, was it not so, _ma mere?_"
Between them they came to the conclusion that Pepin must
go with Bastien to where Dorothy was kept a prisoner and
see what could be done. They also wisely decided that it
was no use notifying or trying to lead the Imperial troops
to the spot, for that might only force the Indians to
some atrocity.
Later on, when the moon arose, Pepin took Lagrange out
and showed him the British camp with its apparently
countless tents, and its battery of guns. It appeared
to the unstable one as if all the armies of the earth
must be camped on that spot. When the dwarf told him that
there were other camps further up the river, to which
the one before him was as nothing, Bastien fairly trembled
in his moccasins. When a sentry challenged them, the
now thoroughly disillusioned breed begged piteously that
they should return to Pepin's house and set out early on
the following morning for the place where Dorothy was
imprisoned up the Saskatchewan, before that army of
soldiers, who surely swarmed like a colony of ants, was
afoot.
Pepin knew that the approach of an army would only be
the means of preventing him from finding Dorothy. He
must go to her himself. He would also, for the sake of
the proprieties, take his mother along in a Red River
cart; his mind was quite made up upon that point. If he
did not do so, who could tell that the Douglas female,
with the cunning of her sex, would not lay some awkward
trap for him? The girl had plainly said, "Come to me,"
and he was secretly elated, but his conviction of old
growth, that all women were "after" him, made him cautious.
So next morning, before break of day, the Red River cart
was packed up and at the door. Pepin and his mother got
into it, Antoine was led behind by means of a rope, and
Bastien rode alongside on a sturdy little Indian pony.
It was indeed an _outre_ and extraordinary little procession
that started out.