A CONTEST OF WITS
Though I was never of hasty or violent temper, it was quite as well
that I failed to gain a sight of De Croix as I passed the posts and the
sentry clanged the gate behind me. The Frenchman's scurvy trick would
have heated cooler blood than mine; nor was my spirit soothed by the
harsh fall I suffered. But De Croix had not waited; nowhere along the
bare sunlit parade was he visible. I saw nothing but a squad of
grinning soldiers lounging beside the barracks, until Captain Wells,
issuing from the guard-house door, caught sight of me and came forward.
"Back, are you, Master Wayland?" he said gruffly, and 't was easy to
see he did not approve of my escapade. "I scarcely thought to see you
here again with so full a head of hair, after I learned of your mad
wager. Providence must indeed take special care of fools. Have the
redskins captured our French friend?"
"He entered a step in my advance."
A gleam of amusement played over his swarthy face.
"Ah, and so you let him win!" he exclaimed; "he, a mere voyager from
the courts, unused to forest play! Such remissness deserves the
guard-house, at the very least. Come, how happened it that this gay
sprig outfooted you?"
"'T was but a trick," I retorted, aroused by these contemptuous words,
"and one I shall make him pay well for. But I pray you cut these bands
and set me free."
I think he had not noticed them before; but now, as he quickly drew his
knife across the deerskin thongs, his whole expression changed.
"'Tis Indian tying," he said earnestly; "you have been in the hands of
the savages?"
"Ay!" and the memory of it instantly brought back the recollection of
the sacrifice that had won us our freedom. "There were three of us
taken at daylight on the river bank, beyond the factory building. De
Croix and I escaped through the efforts of one who is still a prisoner,
and marked for torture."
Many were gathering about us by this time, anxious to learn whatever
news I brought from without; but it was Captain Heald himself who now
pushed his way through the throng until he fronted me.
"Who was it?" he asked, sharply. "We have lost no men!"
"His name is Burns, sir. I ran across him just back of the Kinzie
house."
"Burns? Ol' Tom Burns?"
"Yes, sir."
Heald laughed, a look of evident relief on his haggard features.
"We shall not have to worry much as to his fate," he said, turning
toward Wells. "You remember the fellow, William? He was one of Mad
Anthony's scouts, and came west with you in 1803 when you first held
council here."
The other nodded, a twinkle of pleasant recollection in his eyes.
"Remember him?" he repeated. "I am not likely ever to forget him. He
it was who brought me your message at Fort Wayne a month ago. My
sympathies in this case are entirely with the Indians. There are
likely to be things happening when Ol' Tom is around, unless he has
lost his versatility and nerve in recent years. Come, my lad, give us
the details of the story, for it must be worth the hearing if Ol' Burns
played a leading part. He is as full of tricks as a dog of fleas."
I repeated the story briefly, for I was now eager to be away before De
Croix could dress and claim his wager. I knew well the conceited
coxcomb would never seek the presence of Mademoiselle until he had shed
the rags he wore on entering the Fort. I remember yet that throng of
faces, anxious yet amused, peering over each other's shoulders to get a
better view of me as I talked, and constantly augmented as the word
passed quickly about the garrison that we had safely returned from our
midnight adventures.
"You will send aid to him?" I questioned, as I concluded, my eyes fixed
appealingly upon Captain Heald.
"Not I," was the prompt and decisive rejoinder. "No soldier of this
command shall leave the stockade until the hour for our final
departure. The fellow had a chance to come in here with the others
before the gates were closed, but was obstinate as a mule, and must now
take the consequences. But you need not worry about Ol' Tom, my boy;
he 'll circumvent those red devils in some way, you may rest assured,
nor would he even thank us for interference. I have no force with
which to control the horde of savages that surround us here. A clash
of arms would be their excuse for immediate attack, and might mean
death and torture to the whole garrison. Our only hope lies in being
permitted to pass out without armed collision; and to do this requires
that we ignore such hidden deeds. 'Twas a mad prank of yours last
night, and might have involved us all in common ruin. Go this time
free, except for these words of censure; for you are not directly under
my orders. Another such attempt, subversive of all discipline, and the
gates of Dearborn will be closed against you."
These harsh expressions stung me, but I felt them in a measure merited,
and made no reply.
"'T was but the act of a boy, Heald," interposed Wells kindly, resting
his hand upon my shoulder, "and you will find the lad well worth having
when time of trial comes."
I slipped away through an opening in the curious throng, and hastened
across the open parade toward the messroom. I felt dust-covered and
bruised from my rough experiences, and hoped to discover opportunities
for a bath. The building called the mess-room was long, running nearly
half the length of the stockade, built like the others of logs, two
stories in height, and containing a number of rooms. The single flight
of stairs, opening just within the porch, was exceedingly rude, and
built without any protecting rail. I hesitated a moment when fairly
within the entrance, scarce knowing which way to turn in search of what
I sought; but as I waited there, a light step sounded upon the bare
floor above, and glancing up, with quickened beat of the heart, my eyes
caught the soft drapery of a woman as she stepped on the upper stair.
I could scarcely have retreated had I wished to do so, though I
realized instantly who it was, and drew back against the wall, so that
she came down, singing lightly to herself, without noticing my presence
until we were face to face. It was a picture to touch the heart of any
man, and abide forever in the memory. I saw the sunlight as it
streamed through an upper window along the rough log wall and flecked
her white dress with ever-changing spots of quivering gold, and, as she
drew nearer to my standing-place, played softly amid the masses of her
dark-brown hair, giving it a tinge of glory. How daintily fair she
was! how archly sweet looked the clear girlish face under the
coquettish sweep of the broad hat! and with what unconscious grace she
moved down the rude stairway, one white hand steadying her against the
brown logs, the other gathering her draperies so close that I could not
be blind to the daintily slippered foot that shyly peeped below the
petticoat of ruffled silk. I may not have loved her then as I learned
to do in later days, but my heart throbbed riotously at her presence,
and I stood forgetful of all else.
As she turned aside at the foot of the stairs, she saw me, and the
color deserted her face, only to return instantly in deeper volume,
while her tell-tale eyes hid themselves behind long lashes.
"And are you indeed returned, Master Wayland?" she asked quickly,
conquering her first emotion with a proud uplifting of her head. "You
surprised me greatly. I think I first mistook you for a ghost come
back to haunt me for having despatched you on so perilous a quest. You
cannot know how I have been scolded for doing such a thing; yet surely
you would have gone, even if I had failed to encourage it."
"Perhaps so, Mademoiselle," I answered, hoping I might lead her to
speak with greater seriousness; "but it was the hope of the reward that
spurred me forward."
"Ah, of course," she said deliberately ignoring her own offer, and with
a reckless toss of her head, "you sought a fair girl for whose sake you
have travelled far. Pray tell me, Monsieur,--I am so curious to
know,--do you truly think Josette fairer than I?"
She spoke so lightly, smiling softly into my eyes, that I hardly
detected the faint tinge of regretful sarcasm in her low voice.
"Josette, you ask me? Why, Josette is indeed a most charming girl,
Mademoiselle; but to my mind there can be no comparison between her and
you, for you are the fairest woman I have ever known."
Her dark eyes were full upon me, and I saw her parted lips move as if
she would speak. But no words came, and we stood there silent except
for the nervous tapping of her foot against the floor. Her look of
seriousness changed into a smile.
"By my faith, but you pay compliments with so grave a countenance,
Monsieur, that I hardly know how to receive them. Most men whisper
such things with a light laugh, or a twinkle of the eye, and I know
their words to be empty as bubbles of air. But you,--why, you almost
make me feel you are in earnest."
"And I am," I interrupted, longing to seize her hand as I knew De Croix
would have done, and pour forth the words that burnt upon my lips. "I
have not been privileged to see much of the great outside world,
Mademoiselle,--the world of courts and cities,--nor do I know how
lovely its women may be; but no ideal formed in dreams satisfies me as
you do. I know naught of idle compliments, nor the graces of a
courtier; but my words are from the heart."
"I do truly believe and trust you, John Wayland," and she gave me her
hand. "But let us talk of this no longer. My vanity is already more
than satisfied by your frank and honest speech. And so you found
Josette?"
"Yes," I answered, scarce noting what it was I said, so puzzled was I
by her quick retreat.
"And that meeting, perchance, was so pleasant that it has taken your
thought from all else? It must indeed be so, or why is it that Master
Wayland doth not claim of me the stake of the wager?"
"Because," I stammered, greatly embarrassed by her roguish questioning
eyes, "I fear it has not been fairly won."
"Not fairly won?" she echoed, puzzled by my tone and manner. "Surely
you have made the trip, and the terms were plain. Really, Monsieur,
you do not think I would withhold so small a reward from the winner?"
"But there was another,--the prize was destined for him who came back
first."
"And has Captain de Croix returned also?"
"We arrived together, Mademoiselle, but it was his good fortune to be
earliest through the gate."
'Twas good to see how her face lit up with the amusement this reply
afforded her.
"Pish! but you are in truth the most marvellous man I ever knew. 'T is
good to meet with such open honesty; and when did maid ever have before
so unselfish a cavalier to do her honor? Monsieur, I greatly doubt if
Captain de Croix will prove so thoughtful when his hour comes."
"You are right, Toinette," broke in a voice at my back. "I know not
what Master Wayland may be yielding up so easily, but, like the Shylock
of your William Shakespeare, I am here to claim my pound of flesh."
I wheeled and faced him, standing firmly between his approach and the
girl, my blood instantly boiling at the familiar sound of that drawling
voice.
"I have refused to accept from Mademoiselle what I had not fairly
earned," I said, with quiet emphasis, "and so, no doubt, will you."
There was that about my words and action that astonished him, and for
the moment his old audacity was gone as he swept a puzzled glance over
our faces. I have often reflected upon the contrast we must have
presented to her sight as we stood there,--for De Croix had donned his
best attire, and was once again resplendent in frills and ribbons, with
heavily powdered hair.
"Oh, most certainly, what I have not earned," he said at length, "but
the kiss promised is surely mine by every right, as I was the first in."
"'T was done by a most scurvy trick."
"Poof! what of that? 'Tis the same whether the goal be won by wit and
strategy, or mere fleetness of foot. Toinette will make no such fine
distinction, I warrant you."
"Mademoiselle," and I turned toward the smiling girl, who seemingly
enjoyed our interchange of compliments, "what may have been your
understanding of this wager?"
"Why," she answered slowly, endeavoring to recall the details to mind,
"Captain de Croix declared he would willingly make the trip for a touch
of rosy lips, and in a spirit of venture I promised that whichever of
you two first completed the journey and returned here should obtain
such reward."
"There, 't is plain enough," he cried, stroking his mustache
complacently, "and I have won."
"Most surely you have," I retorted, "and the reward has already been
given you."
"Been given?" she questioned, "and by whom?"
"The girl Josette."
She looked from the one to the other of us, puzzled for a brief moment
at the odd situation. Then, as her eyes settled upon De Croix's
flushed and angry face, she laughed gaily, even as she daintily drew
aside her skirts to pass us by.
"Pish, Monsieur!" she cried, shaking her finger at him, "I doubt it
not. No, you need not deny it, for 't is but one of your old-time
tricks, as I knew them well at Montreal. 'T would be no more than
right were I even now to reward Master Wayland, for he hath truly won
it,--yet for that I will delay awhile."
And with a flash of her dark eyes that held us speechless, she was gone.