A STOLEN INTERVIEW.
The news of so unexpected an event spread quickly through the fort, and
by the time the gates had been closed and barred again, men were
hurrying forward from all sides. They surrounded the travelers, greeting
them eagerly, and plying them and their guides with rapid questions.
I held aloof, for I was in too bitter a mood to trust myself to speech.
The reasons that had brought the London law clerk to Fort Royal--a journey
of hundreds of miles through the wilderness--gave me no concern; but I
knew what Father Cleary's visit meant, and what would follow speedily on
his arrival. Surely, I reflected, there could be no man living more
wretched than myself. I thought I had become resigned to the loss of
Flora, but now I knew that it was a delusion. I could not contemplate
her approaching marriage without grief and heartburning--without a mad
desire to dare the worst and claim the girl as my own.
The dogs and sledges were going to the stable, and the travelers, still
hemmed in by a crowd, were moving toward the factor's house. Griffith
Hawke caught sight of me, and made a gesture; but I pretended not to see
him, and turning on my heel, I strode away to a far corner of the yard.
An hour of solitude put me in a calmer frame of mind--outwardly, at
least. The supper horn drew me to quarters. I had little appetite, but I
made a pretense of eating, and tried to answer cheerfully the remarks
that my comrades addressed to me.
By listening I learned much of interest. The men kept up a ceaseless
chatter and discussion, and the sole topic of conversation was the
arrival of Christopher Burley and the priest. The travelers, it
appeared, had come together from Fort York--where all was quiet at the
time of their departure--and by the same roundabout road our party had
traversed some days before. Strange to say they had encountered no
Indians, either on the way or when near the fort, and for this the men
had two explanations. A part asserted that the redskins had moved off in
the direction of Fort York, while others were of the opinion that they
had purposely let the travelers enter unmolested in order to deceive our
garrison.
The discussion waxed so hot that no reference was made to the motive of
the priest's visit, for which I was heartily thankful. I was anxious to
get away from the noise and the light, and as soon as I had finished my
supper I rose. Just then Andrew Menzies, a non-commissioned officer of
the company, entered the room.
"Carew!" he called out; "the factor wants to see you when you can spare
the time."
"All right; I'll go over to the house presently," and lighting my pipe,
I sauntered out of the quarters.
Why the factor wanted me I could not readily conceive, unless it was for
some detail connected with his marriage. There were several things that
I wished to turn over in my mind before presenting myself to Griffith
Hawke, where I would be likely to meet Flora.
A sound of low voices at the gates, and the rattle of a bolt, drew me
first in that direction. A little group of men were standing at the
loopholes, peering out.
"What's up, comrades?" I inquired in a whisper.
"Ah, it's you, Denzil?" replied one looking around. "Didn't you know?
Vallee and Maignon, the voyageurs who came in a bit ago have just
started back to Fort York on snowshoes, taking a letter from the factor
in regard to the row here this morning."
"They will go as they came," added another, "and I believe they will get
through all right. They are out on the river by this time, and they
would scarcely have been permitted to pass yonder timber had any Indians
been on the watch."
"I agree with you," said I. "Let us hope that the brave fellows will
meet with no mishap."
I lingered for a moment, but the quiet of the night remained unbroken.
Then I turned back across the yard, taking care that none observed me,
and made my way to a small grove of fir trees that lay in the rear of
the trading house and some distance to the right of the factor's
residence. In the heart of the copse was a rude wooden bench, built some
years before by the factor's orders. I made my way to it over the frozen
snow crust, and sat down to meditate and smoke.
I had no more than settled myself when I heard the light, crunching
patter of feet. The sounds came nearer, and of a sudden, by the dim glow
of the moon, I saw the figure of a woman within six feet of me. It was
Flora Hatherton. She was bareheaded, and a long cloak was thrown over
her shoulders. As she advanced, her hands clasped in front of her, a
stifled sob broke from her lips.
I had been on the point of retreating, but the girl's distress altered
my mind. By an irresistible impulse I rose and stood before her.
"Flora!" I exclaimed.
She shrank back with a smothered scream.
"Hush! do not be alarmed!" I added. "Surely you know me?"
"Denzil!" she whispered. "Oh, what a fright you gave me!"
"Why are you here?" I asked.
"The house was so warm--they have the stove red hot," she stammered
confusedly. "I slipped out for a breath of fresh air. And you?"
"I came for the same purpose," said I. "This is a favorite spot of mine.
But you have been weeping Flora."
"No--oh, no," she answered, in a tone that belied her words. "You are
mistaken, Denzil. I--came here to think."
"Of what?"
"Of my wedding day," she replied half-defiantly. "Surely you know that
the priest has arrived. I am to be married to-morrow morning."
"To-morrow morning!" I gasped.
"Yes, unless the world ends before then. Oh, Denzil, I have such wicked
thoughts to-night! It is in my heart to wish that the Indians would take
the fort--that something would happen before to-morrow."
"Nothing will happen," I said bitterly. "The fort can stand a siege of
days and months. So you are determined to wed Griffith Hawke--to forget
what we have been to each other in the past?"
"Denzil, you have no right," she said sadly.
The words stung me, and I suddenly realized the depths of shame to which
I had sunk. She saw her advantage, and pressed it.
"I have lingered too long," she said. "I fear I shall be missed. This is
our last meeting. Farewell, Denzil!"
"Farewell!" I answered bitterly.
She held out her hand, and I pressed it to my lips. It was like marble.
Then she turned and glided away, and I heard her light footsteps
receding among the trees.
The next instant I regretted that I had yielded and let her go. The
thought that I might never see her again maddened me. Without realizing
the recklessness and folly of it, I started in pursuit, calling her name
in a hoarse whisper.
But I was too late, swiftly as I moved. I reached the edge of the trees
in time to see a flash of light as the rear door of the factor's house
opened and closed.
I stood for a moment in the moonlight and solitude and then something
happened that cooled my fevered brain and put Flora out of my thoughts.
Loud on the frosty night rang the report of a gun; two more followed in
quick succession. From the nearest watch-tower the sentries shouted a
sonorous alarm, and their voices were drowned by a shrill and more
distant burst of Indian yells.