THE LOST LOCKET.
Captain Rudstone was in a temper, and but for the press in front of him
he would have dashed at the gates.
"What are you afraid of?" he cried. "Why don't you pursue the red
devils? make an end of them? They've killed two of the best voyageurs
that ever tramped the woods. My God! what does it all mean?"
"It means war, sir," answered the factor. "The Northwest Company is at
the bottom of the mischief. I entreat you to be calm, Captain Rudstone.
The Indians are in force, and it would be sheer madness to try to track
them down. I am responsible for the safety of the fort."
These sober words brought the captain to his senses.
"You are right, Hawke," he admitted. "I see there is nothing to be done
at present. But, by Heaven! sir, I'll have the blood of a score of
redskins for each of those poor comrades of mine. And you say war has
broken out? I don't understand--"
Just then his eyes fell on me, and he held out his hand with a stern
smile of welcome. I clasped it warmly.
"So we meet again, Mr. Carew?" he exclaimed.
"I wish it had been under happier circumstances," said I; "but I am
heartily glad to see you."
"Thank you," he replied, and his eyes shifted from mine as they had been
wont to do formerly. "I have much to be grateful for," he added, "I
might be lying yonder with a bullet in my back and a tomahawk in my
skull. It was a narrow escape."
"You did not come from Fort York?" I inquired.
"No, from the north--from Fort Churchill, at the mouth of the river. I
am finished with my errand in this part of the country, and am bound
south. I had no idea that trouble had broken out until I was attacked on
the edge of the timber."
"I fear you will be detained here for many a day, Captain Rudstone,"
said Griffith Hawke. "But come to my quarters, and when you have fed and
rested I will give you a full report of all that has happened."
Turning to me the factor added:
"See to the wounded, Denzil, and make sure that the sentries are
properly posted. Then let me know how matters are going. I don't
anticipate any further trouble."
That Griffith Hawke should put me in virtual command of the fort at such
a time and in preference to several officers who were older and of
superior rank, caused me some pride and satisfaction; for just now my
mind was taken up with sterner things than my hopeless passion for
Flora, and what martial spirit was in me had been fired by the prospect
of an Indian siege.
After attending to my duties I strode on to the house and entered the
cozily-furnished living room. Here logs were blazing in a great
fireplace, at opposite sides of which, talking in low tones, sat Father
Cleary and Andrew Menzies. The latter's wife, it may be observed, was
Flora's companion.
At a table in the middle of the room, with lighted pipes between their
teeth and their glasses of grog handy, were Griffith Hawke and Captain
Rudstone. The latter was as handsome and dandified as ever, and by the
litter of dishes at one end of the table I knew he had just finished
supper. Both had been discussing the Indian troubles, to judge from
their grave and thoughtful faces.
The factor's eyes seemed to read me through and through, and there was
something in the scrutiny that disturbed and puzzled me. He motioned to
a chair and I sat down awkwardly.
"All quiet?" he asked. "You have omitted no precautions?"
I told him what I had done, and he and the captain nodded approval.
"A bad storm has set in?" the latter said interrogatively.
"The worst kind of a one," I replied. "The wind is high, and the snow
will drift heavily. The Indians are not likely to attack us in such
weather."
"I wish I could feel sure of that," Griffith Hawke said doubtfully. "By
the way, Denzil, I have reason to believe that white men are among the
savages."
"I am pretty certain that Cuthbert Mackenzie is with them," said I.
"And others," broke in Captain Rudstone. "I heard more than one English
voice when I was fighting and running for my life yonder."
"Northwest men!" exclaimed the factor. "By sir, I tell you I am right.
To-day's events amount to an open declaration of war."
Captain Rudstone blew a thick cloud of smoke and smiled grimly through
it.
"I don't agree with you," he said, in the tone of one who knows his
ground. "The Northwest Company will pot come to open hostilities--they
are too crafty for that; but they are at the bottom of this trouble.
Their agents have persuaded the Indians to rise, are fighting with them,
and Mackenzie is determined to take the fort. Whether he fails or
succeeds, his participation will not be proved. The blame will be thrust
on your shoulders, Hawke, because of the Indian you shot this
morning."
"That was an unfortunate accident," the factor admitted uneasily, "and
it may serve the purpose you suggest. But I am not afraid that the fort
will fall; we can hold out against big odds."
"You'll have them," said the captain. "I've no doubt there will be five
hundred redskins before the stockade within a day or two, and then
they'll give you sharp work. And a drifting snowstorm will be in their
favor."
"I don't see it," replied Griffith Hawke. "What do you mean?"
The captain shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing in particular," he answered
evasively. "By the way, Hawke, when are you to marry Miss Hatherton?"
As he spoke he jerked one arm toward the priest, who was still talking
by the fire, and then gave me a swift glance of amused contempt. The
factor also turned his eyes upon me, and I felt my face grow hot.
"I am to be married to-morrow," he replied half-sadly. "At least, that
is the present arrangement. But I have been thinking of late--"
He was interrupted, to my vast relief, by the sudden opening of a door
behind him. Mr. Christopher Burley entered the room, looking as if he
might have just stepped from the legal chambers in Lincoln's Inn. He had
evidently made a careful toilet, his traveling costume being discarded
for a suit of sober black.
He nodded severely to Captain Rudstone, who he had seen earlier in the
evening, and I observed a slight confusion in the bearing of both,
clearly due to the recollection of their quarrel at the Silver Lily.
Then, with an affable smile, the law clerk offered me his hand.
"I am pleased to see you, Mr. Carew," he said. "I learned from the
factor that you were here. I predicted that we might meet again, if you
remember."
"I remember well," said I. "This is a small world, after all. I take it
that the quest you spoke of has brought you to the north?"
"You are right, sir," he replied. "It has led me hundreds of miles
through the wilderness, from one fort to another of the Hudson Bay
territory--truly a weary round of travel."
"And with what success?"
"None as yet; but I am not discouraged. From here I go southwest. I feel
that I shall succeed in the end. I find that the factor is unable to
help me, and it is no doubt needless to ask you--"
"Quite so," I interrupted. "Osmund Maiden is still an unfamiliar name to
me."
"Captain Rudstone knows the Canadas thoroughly," said Griffith Hawke.
"Perhaps he has run across your man in the past."
My eyes were on the captain just then, and I fancied he gave a slight
start; certain it is that a sudden flush colored his bronzed face a
darker shade, and I remembered that this was not the first time he had
shown agitation at the mention of the man Christopher Burley was
seeking. But he was instantly himself again, and he calmly twisted his
long mustaches as he answered:
"Osmund Maiden! I fancy I have heard the name somewhere in my time. May
I ask, sir, what object you have in desiring to find this man?"
"That I may reveal to none save Osmund Maiden himself," Christopher
Burley replied. "But I beg of you to refresh your memory. It will be
greatly to your advantage if you can give me any information--"
"Denzil, I have been thinking of something," the factor interrupted
suddenly. "Forgive me, my boy, for alluding to a personal and delicate
matter; but I have always fancied that there was some mystery about your
father--that his name might have been assumed. I speak thus frankly
because Mr. Burley has honored me in part with his confidence--"
"There was no mystery," I broke in sharply. I was angry with Griffith
Hawke, though I knew that he meant well. "My father's name was Carew," I
went on, "and he had a right to it. Why he left England I cannot say,
but his home was in Yorkshire and his parents were dead when he came to
the Canadas."
"Then I am mistaken," said Griffith Hawke.
"There are Carews in Yorkshire," added the law clerk. "It is doubtless
the same family. Did your father leave no papers?"
"None," I replied.
"He used to wear a small gold locket about his neck," declared the
factor. "Surely you have seen it, Denzil?"
"I remember it," I said curtly; "but I do not know what was in it, or
what became of it. It was missing when my father's body was found in the
woods."
"That is unfortunate," said Christopher Burley in a tone that showed a
lack of further interest in the matter.
"Very!" assented Captain Rudstone, who was watching me curiously.
I made no reply. I had just recollected that I had in my pocket a seal
ring--a trifle too large to wear--which had been my father's. I fumbled
for it, hoping to put an end to a controversy that was distasteful to
me. But before I could find and produce it there were hurried steps
outside the house and the door was thrown open with a crash.