The interval that succeeded to the last council-scene of the Indians
was passed by the officers of Detroit in a state of inexpressible
anxiety and doubt. The fears entertained for the fate of their
companions, who had set out in the perilous and almost forlorn hope of
reaching Michilimackinac, in time to prevent the consummation of the
threatened treachery, had, in some degree, if not wholly, been allayed
by the story narrated by the Ottawa chief. It was evident, from his
statement, the party had again met, and been engaged in fearful
struggle with the gigantic warrior they had all so much reason to
recollect; and it was equally apparent, that in that struggle they had
been successful. But still, so many obstacles were likely to be opposed
to their navigation of the several lakes and rivers over which lay
their course, it was almost feared, even if they eventually escaped
unharmed themselves, they could not possibly reach the fort in time to
communicate the danger that awaited their friends. It is true, the time
gained by Governor de Haldimar on the first occasion had afforded a
considerable interval, of which advantage might be taken; but it was
also, on the other hand, uncertain whether Ponteac had commanded the
same delay in the council of the chiefs investing Michilimackinac, to
which he had himself assented. Three days were sufficient to enable an
Indian warrior to perform the journey by land; and it was chiefly on
this vague and uncertain ground they based whatever little of hope was
entertained on the subject.
It had been settled at the departure of the adventurers, that the
instant they effected a communication with the schooner on Lake Huron,
Francois should be immediately sent back, with instructions so to
contrive the period of his return, that his canoe should make its
appearance soon after daybreak at the nearest extremity of Hog Island,
the position of which has been described in our introductory chapter.
From this point a certain signal, that could be easily distinguished
with the aid of a telescope, was to be made from the canoe, which,
without being of a nature to attract the attention of the savages, was
yet to be such as could not well be mistaken by the garrison. This was
a precaution adopted, not only with the view of giving the earliest
intimation of the result of the enterprise, but lest the Canadian
should be prevented, by any closer investment on the part of the
Indians, from communicating personally with the fort in the way he had
been accustomed.
It will easily be comprehended therefore, that, as the period
approached when they might reasonably look for the return of Francois,
if he should return at all, the nervous anxiety of the officers became
more and more developed. Upwards of a week had elapsed since the
departure of their friends; and already, for the last day or two, their
impatience had led them, at early dawn, and with beating hearts, to
that quarter of the rampart which overlooked the eastern extremity of
Hog Island. Hitherto, however, their eager watching had been in vain.
As far as our recollection of the Canadian tradition of this story
serves us, it must have been on the fourth night after the final
discomfiture of the plans of Ponteac, and the tenth from the departure
of the adventurers, that the officers were assembled in the mess-room,
partaking of the scanty and frugal supper to which their long
confinement had reduced them. The subject of their conversation, as it
was ever of their thoughts, was the probable fate of their companions;
and many and various, although all equally melancholy, were the
conjectures offered as to the result. There was on the countenance of
each, that deep and fixed expression of gloom, which, if it did not
indicate any unmanliness of despair, told at least that hope was nearly
extinct: but more especially was this remarkable in the young but sadly
altered Charles de Haldimar, who, with a vacant eye and a pre-occupied
manner, seemed wholly abstracted from the scene before him.
All was silence in the body of the fort. The men off duty had long
since retired to rest in their clothes, and only the "All's well!" of
the sentinels was heard at intervals of a quarter of an hour, as the
cry echoed from mouth to mouth in the line of circuit. Suddenly,
however, between two of those intervals, and during a pause in the
languid conversation of the officers, the sharp challenge of a sentinel
was heard, and then quick steps on the rampart, as of men hastening to
the point whence the challenge had been given. The officers, whom this
new excitement seemed to arouse into fresh activity, hurriedly quitted
the room; and, with as little noise as possible, gained the spot where
the voice had been heard. Several men were bending eagerly over the
rampart, and, with their muskets at the recover, riveting their gaze on
a dark and motionless object that lay on the verge of the ditch
immediately beneath them.
"What have you here, Mitchell?" asked Captain Blessington, who was in
command of the guard, and who had recognised the gruff voice of the
veteran in the challenge just given.
"An American burnt log, your honour," muttered the soldier, "if one was
to judge from its stillness; but if it is, it must have rolled there
within the last minute; for I'll take my affidavy it wasn't here when I
passed last in my beat."
"An American burnt log, indeed! it's some damned rascal of a spy,
rather," remarked Captain Erskine. "Who knows but it may be our big
friend, come to pay us a visit again? And yet he is not half long
enough for him, either. Can't you try and tickle him with the bayonet,
any of you fellows, and see whether he is made of flesh and blood?"
Although this observation was made almost without object, it being
totally impossible for any musket, even with the addition of its
bayonet, to reach more than half way across the ditch, the several
sentinels threw themselves on their chests, and, stretching over the
rampart as far as possible, made the attempt to reach the suspicious
looking object that lay beyond. No sooner, however, had their arms been
extended in such a manner as to be utterly powerless, when the dark
mass was seen to roll away in an opposite direction, and with such
rapidity that, before the men could regain their feet and level their
muskets, it had entirely disappeared from their view.
"Cleverly managed, to give the red skin his due," half laughingly
observed Captain Erskine, while his brother officers continued to fix
their eyes in astonishment on the spot so recently occupied by the
strange object; "but what the devil could be his motive for lying there
so long? Not playing the eaves-dropper, surely; and yet, if he meant to
have picked off a sentinel, what was to have prevented him from doing
it sooner?"
"He had evidently no arms," said Ensign Delme.
"No, nor legs either, it would appear," resumed the literal Erskine.
"Curse me if I ever saw any thing in the shape of a human form bundled
together in that manner."
"I mean he had no fire-arms--no rifle," pursued Delme.
"And if he had, he certainly would have rifled one of us of a life,"
continued the captain, laughing at his own conceit. "But come, the bird
is flown, and we have only to thank ourselves for having been so
egregiously duped. Had Valletort been here, he would have given a
different account of him."
"Hist! listen!" exclaimed Lieutenant Johnstone, calling the attention
of the party to a peculiar and low sound in the direction in which the
supposed Indian had departed.
It was repeated, and in a plaintive tone, indicating a desire to
propitiate. Soon afterwards a human form was seen advancing slowly, but
without show either of concealment or hostility in its movements. It
finally remained stationary on the spot where the dark and shapeless
mass had been first perceived.
"Another Oucanasta for De Haldimar, no doubt," observed Captain
Erskine, after a moment's pause. "These grenadiers carry every thing
before them as well in love as in war."
The error of the good-natured officer was, however, obvious to all but
himself. The figure, which was now distinctly traced in outline for
that of a warrior, stood boldly and fearlessly on the brink of the
ditch, holding up its left arm, in the hand of which dangled something
that was visible in the starlight, and pointing energetically to this
pendant object with the other.
A voice from one of the party now addressed the Indian in two several
dialects, but without eliciting a reply. He either understood not, or
would not answer the question proposed, but continued pointing
significantly to the indistinct object which he still held forth in an
elevated position.
"The governor must be apprised of this," observed Captain Blessington
to De Haldimar, who was his subaltern of the guard. "Hasten, Charles,
to acquaint your father, and receive his orders."
The young officer willingly obeyed the injunction of his superior. A
secret and indefinable hope rushed through his mind, that as the Indian
came not in hostility, he might be the bearer of some communication
from their friends; and he moved rapidly towards that part of the
building occupied by his father.
The light of a lamp suspended over the piazza leading to the governor's
rooms reflecting strongly on his regimentals, he passed unchallenged by
the sentinels posted there, and uninterruptedly gained a door that
opened on a narrow passage, at the further extremity of which was the
sitting-room usually occupied by his parent. This again was entered
from the same passage by a second door, the upper part of which was of
common glass, enabling any one on the outside to trace with facility
every object within when the place was lighted up.
A glance was sufficient to satisfy the youth his father was not in the
room; although there was strong evidence he had not retired for the
night. In the middle of the floor stood an oaken table, and on this lay
an open writing desk, with a candle on each side, the wicks of which
had burnt so long as to throw a partial gloom over the surrounding
wainscotting. Scattered about the table and desk were a number of
letters that had apparently been just looked at or read; and in the
midst of these an open case of red morocco, containing a miniature. The
appearance of these letters, thus left scattered about by one who was
scrupulously exact in the arrangement of his papers, added to the
circumstance of the neglected and burning candles, confirmed the young
officer in an impression that his father, overcome by fatigue, had
retired into his bed-room, and fallen unconsciously asleep. Imagining,
therefore, he could not, without difficulty, succeed in making himself
heard, and deeming the urgency of the case required it, he determined
to wave the usual ceremony of knocking, and penetrate to his father's
bedroom unannounced. The glass door being without fastening within,
easily yielded to his pressure of the latch; but as he passed by the
table, a strong and natural feeling of curiosity induced him to cast
his eye upon the miniature. To his infinite surprise, nay, almost
terror, he discovered it was that of his mother--the identical portrait
which his sister Clara had worn in her bosom from infancy, and which he
had seen clasped round her neck on the very deck of the schooner in
which she sailed for Michilimackinac. He felt there could be no
mistake, for only one miniature of the sort had ever been in possession
of the family, and that the one just accounted for. Almost stupified at
what he saw, and scarcely crediting the evidence of his senses, the
young officer glanced his eye hurriedly along one of the open letters
that lay around. It was in the well remembered hand-writing of his
mother, and commenced, "Dear, dearest Reginald." After this followed
expressions of endearment no woman might address except to an affianced
lover, or the husband of her choice; and his heart sickened while he
read. Scarcely, however, had he scanned half a dozen lines, when it
occurred to him he was violating some secret of his parents; and,
discontinuing the perusal with an effort, he prepared to acquit himself
of his mission.
On raising his eyes from the paper he was startled by the appearance of
his father, who, with a stern brow and a quivering lip, stood a few
paces from the table, apparently too much overcome by his indignation
to be able to utter a sentence.
Charles de Haldimar felt all the awkwardness of his position. Some
explanation of his conduct, however, was necessary; and he stammered
forth the fact of the portrait having riveted his attention, from its
striking resemblance to that in his sister's possession.
"And to what do these letters bear resemblance?" demanded the governor,
in a voice that trembled in its attempt to be calm, while he fixed his
penetrating eye on that of his son. "THEY, it appears, were equally
objects of attraction with you."
"The letters were in the hand-writing of my mother; and I was
irresistibly led to glance at one of them," replied the youth, with the
humility of conscious wrong. "The action was involuntary, and no sooner
committed than repented of. I am here, my father, on a mission of
importance, which must account for my presence."
"A mission of importance!" repeated the governor, with more of sorrow
than of anger in the tone in which he now spoke. "On what mission are
you here, if it be not to intrude unwarrantably on a parent's privacy?"
The young officer's cheek flushed high, as he proudly answered:--"I was
sent by Captain Blessington, sir, to take your orders in regard to an
Indian who is now without the fort under somewhat extraordinary
circumstances, yet evidently without intention of hostility. It is
supposed he bears some message from my brother."
The tone of candour and offended pride in which this formal
announcement of duty was made seemed to banish all suspicion from the
mind of the governor; and he remarked, in a voice that had more of the
kindness that had latterly distinguished his address to his son, "Was
this, then, Charles, the only motive for your abrupt intrusion at this
hour? Are you sure no inducement of private curiosity was mixed up with
the discharge of your duty, that you entered thus unannounced? You must
admit, at least, I found you employed in a manner different from what
the urgency of your mission would seem to justify."
There was lurking irony in this speech; yet the softened accents of his
father, in some measure, disarmed the youth of the bitterness he would
have flung into his observation,--"That no man on earth, his parent
excepted, should have dared to insinuate such a doubt with impunity."
For a moment Colonel de Haldimar seemed to regard his son with a
surprised but satisfied air, as if he had not expected the
manifestation of so much spirit, in one whom he had been accustomed
greatly to undervalue.
"I believe you, Charles," he at length observed; "forgive the
justifiable doubt, and think no more of the subject. Yet, one word," as
the youth was preparing to depart; "you have read that letter" (and he
pointed to that which had principally arrested the attention of the
officer): "what impression has it given you of your mother? Answer me
sincerely. MY name," and his faint smile wore something of the
character of triumph, "is not REGINALD, you know."
The pallid cheek of the young man flushed at this question. His own
undisguised impression was, that his mother had cherished a guilty love
for another than her husband. He felt the almost impiety of such a
belief, but he could not resist the conviction that forced itself on
his mind; the letter in her handwriting spoke for itself; and though
the idea was full of wretchedness, he was unable to conquer it.
Whatever his own inference might be, however, he could not endure the
thought of imparting it to his father; he, therefore, answered
evasively.
"Doubtless my mother had some dear relative of the name, and to him was
this letter addressed; perhaps a brother, or an uncle. But I never
knew," he pursued, with a look of appeal to his father, "that a second
portrait of my mother existed. This is the very counterpart of Clara's."
"It may be the same," remarked the governor, but in a tone of
indecision, that dented his faith in what he uttered.
"Impossible, my father. I accompanied Clara, if you recollect, as far
as Lake Sinclair; and when I quitted the deck of the schooner to
return, I particularly remarked my sister wore her mother's portrait,
as usual, round her neck."
"Well, no matter about the portrait," hurriedly rejoined the governor;
"yet, whatever your impression, Charles," and he spoke with a warmth
that was far from habitual to him, "dare not to sully the memory of
your mother by a doubt of her purity. An accident has given this letter
to your inspection, but breathe not its contents to a human creature;
above all, respect the being who gave you birth. Go, tell Captain
Blessington to detain the Indian; I will join you immediately."
Strongly, yet confusedly, impressed with the singularity of the scene
altogether, and more particularly with his father's strange admonition,
the young officer quitted the room, and hastened to rejoin his
companions. On reaching the rampart he found that the Indian, during
his long absence, had departed; yet not without depositing, on the
outer edge of the ditch, the substance to which he had previously
directed their attention. At the moment of De Haldimar's approach, the
officers were bending over the rampart, and, with straining eyes,
endeavouring to make out what it was, but in vain; something was just
perceptible in the withered turf, but what that something was no one
could succeed in discovering.
"Whatever this be, we must possess ourselves of it," said Captain
Blessington: "it is evident, from the energetic manner of him who left
it, it is of importance. I think I know who is the best swimmer and
climber of our party."
Several voices unanimously pronounced the name of "Johnstone."
"Any thing for a dash of enterprise," said that officer, whose slight
wound had been perfectly healed. "But what do you propose that the
swimmer and climber should do, Blessington?"
"Secure yon parcel, without lowering the drawbridge."
"What! and be scalped in the act? Who knows if it be not a trick after
all, and that the rascal who placed it there is not lying within a few
feet, ready to pounce upon me the instant I reach the bank."
"Never mind," said Erskine, laughingly, "we will revenge your death, my
boy."
"Besides, consider the nunquam non paratus, Johnstone," slily remarked
Lieutenant Leslie.
"What, again, Leslie?" energetically responded the young Scotsman. "Yet
think not I hesitate, for I did but jest: make fast a rope round my
loins, and I think I will answer for the result."
Colonel de Haldimar now made his appearance. Having heard a brief
statement of the facts, and approving of the suggestion of Captain
Blessington, a rope was procured, and made fast under the shoulders of
the young officer, who had previously stripped himself of his uniform
and shoes. He then suffered himself to drop gently over the edge of the
rampart, his companions gradually lowering the rope, until a deep and
gasping aspiration, such as is usually wrung from one coming suddenly
in contact with cold water, announced he had gained the surface of the
ditch. The rope was then slackened, to give him the unrestrained
command of his limbs; and in the next instant he was seen clambering up
the opposite elevation.
Although the officers, indulging in a forced levity, in a great degree
meant to encourage their companion, had treated his enterprise with
indifference, they were far from being without serious anxiety for the
result. They had laughed at the idea, suggested by him, of being
scalped; whereas, in truth, they entertained the apprehension far more
powerfully than he did himself. The artifices resorted to by the
savages, to secure an isolated victim, were so many and so various,
that suspicion could not but attach to the mysterious occurrence they
had just witnessed. Willing even as they were to believe their present
visitor, whoever he was, came not in a spirit of enmity, they could not
altogether divest themselves of a fear that it was only a subtle
artifice to decoy one of them within the reach of their traitorous
weapons. They, therefore, watched the movements of their companion with
quickening pulses; and it was with a lively satisfaction they saw him,
at length, after a momentary search, descend once more into the ditch,
and, with a single powerful impulsion of his limbs, urge himself back
to the foot of the rampart. Neither feet nor hands were of much
service, in enabling him to scale the smooth and slanting logs that
composed the exterior surface of the works; but a slight jerk of the
well secured rope, serving as a signal to his friends, he was soon
dragged once more to the summit of the rampart, without other injury
than a couple of slight bruises.
"Well, what success?" eagerly asked Leslie and Captain Erskine in the
same breath, as the dripping Johnstone buried himself in the folds of a
capacious cloak procured during his absence.
"You shall hear," was the reply; "but first, gentlemen, allow me, if
you please, to enjoy, with yourselves, the luxury of dry clothes. I
have no particular ambition to contract an American ague fit just now;
yet, unless you take pity on me, and reserve my examination for a
future moment, there is every probability I shall not have a tooth left
by to-morrow morning."
No one could deny the justice of the remark, for the teeth of the young
man were chattering as he spoke. It was not, therefore, until after he
had changed his dress, and swallowed a couple of glasses of Captain
Erskine's never failing spirit, that they all repaired once more to the
mess-room, when Johnstone anticipated all questions, by the production
of the mysterious packet.
After removing several wrappers of bark, each of which was secured by a
thong of deerskin, Colonel de Haldimar, to whom the successful officer
had handed his prize, at length came to a small oval case of red
morocco, precisely similar, in size and form, to that which had so
recently attracted the notice of his son. For a moment he hesitated,
and his cheek was observed to turn pale, and his hand to tremble; but
quickly subduing his indecision, he hurriedly unfastened the clasp, and
disclosed to the astonished view of the officers the portrait of a
young and lovely woman, habited in the Highland garb.
Exclamations of various kinds burst from the lips of the group of
officers. Several knew it to be the portrait of Mrs. de Haldimar;
others recognised it from the striking likeness it bore to Clara and to
Charles; all knew it had never been absent from the possession of the
former since her mother's death; and feeling satisfied as they did that
its extraordinary appearance among them, at the present moment, was an
announcement of some dreadful disaster, their countenances wore an
impress of dismay little inferior to that of the wretched Charles, who,
agonized beyond all attempt at description, had thrown himself into a
seat in the rear of the group, and sat like one bewildered, with his
head buried in his hands.
"Gentlemen," at length observed Colonel de Haldimar, in a voice that
proved how vainly his natural emotion was sought to be subdued by his
pride, "this, I fear me, is an unwelcome token. It comes to announce to
a father the murder of his child; to us all, the destruction of our
last remaining friends and comrades."
"God forbid!" solemnly aspirated Captain Blessington. After a pause of
a moment or two he pursued: "I know not why, sir; but my impression is,
the appearance of this portrait, which we all recognise for that worn
by Miss de Haldimar, bears another interpretation."
Colonel de Haldimar shook his head.--"I have but too much reason to
believe," he observed, smiling in mournful bitterness, "it has been
conveyed to us not in mercy but in revenge."
No one ventured to question why; for notwithstanding all were aware
that in the mysterious ravisher of the wife of Halloway Colonel de
Haldimar had a fierce and inexorable private enemy, no allusion had
ever been made by that officer himself to the subject.
"Will you permit me to examine the portrait and envelopes, Colonel?"
resumed Captain Blessington: "I feel almost confident, although I
confess I have no other motive for it than what springs from a
recollection of the manner of the Indian, that the result will bear me
out in my belief the bearer came not in hostility but in friendship."
"By my faith, I quite agree with Blessington," said Captain Erskine;
"for, in addition to the manner of the Indian, there is another
evidence in favour of his position. Was it merely intended in the light
in which you consider it, Colonel, the case or the miniature itself
might have been returned, but certainly not the metal in which it is
set. The savages are fully aware of the value of gold, and would not so
easily let it slip through their fingers."
"And wherefore thus carefully wrapped up?" remarked Lieutenant
Johnstone, "unless it had been intended it should meet with no injury
on the way. I certainly think the portrait never would have been
conveyed, in its present perfect state, by an enemy."
"The fellow seemed to feel, too, that he came in the character of one
whose intentions claimed all immunity from harm," remarked Captain
Wentworth. "He surely never would have stood so fearlessly on the brink
of the ditch, and within pistol shot, had he not been conscious of
rendering some service to those connected with us."
To these several observations of his officers, Colonel de Haldimar
listened attentively; and although he made no reply, it was evident he
felt gratified at the eagerness with which each sought to remove the
horrible impression he had stated to have existed in his own mind.
Meanwhile, Captain Blessington had turned and examined the miniature in
fifty different ways, but without succeeding in discovering any thing
that could confirm him in his original impression. Vexed and
disappointed, he at length flung it from him on the table, and sinking
into a seat at the side of the unfortunate Charles, pressed the hand of
the youth in significant silence.
Finding his worst fears now confirmed. Colonel de Haldimar, for the
first time, cast a glance towards his son, whose drooping head, and
sorrowing attitude, spoke volumes to his heart. For a moment his own
cheek blanched, and his eye was seen to glisten with the first tear
ever witnessed there by those around him. Subduing his emotion,
however, he drew up his person to its lordly height, as if that act
reminded him the commander was not to be lost in the father, and
quitting the room with a heavy brow and step, recommended to his
officers the repose of which they appeared to stand so much in need.
But not one was there who felt inclined to court the solitude of his
pillow. No sooner were the footsteps of the governor heard dying away
in the distance, when fresh lights were ordered, and several logs of
wood heaped on the slackening fire. Around this the officers now
grouped, and throwing themselves back in their chairs, assumed the
attitudes of men seeking to indulge rather in private reflection than
in personal converse.
The grief of the wretched Charles de Haldimar, hitherto restrained by
the presence of his father, and encouraged by the touching evidences of
interest afforded him by the ever-considerate Blessington, now burst
forth audibly. No attempt was made by the latter officer to check the
emotion of his young friend. Knowing his passionate fondness for his
sister, he was not without fear that the sudden shock produced by the
appearance of her miniature might destroy his reason, even if it
affected not his life; and as the moment was now come when tears might
be shed without exciting invidious remark in the only individual who
was likely to make it, he sought to promote them as much as possible.
Too much occupied in their own mournful reflections to bestow more than
a passing notice on the weakness of their friend, the group round the
fireplace scarcely seemed to have regarded his emotion.
This violent paroxysm past, De Haldimar breathed more freely; and,
after listening to several earnest observations of Captain Blessington,
who still held out the possibility of something favourable turning up,
on a re-examination of the portrait by daylight, he was so far composed
as to be able to attend to the summons of the sergeant of the guard,
who came to say the relief were ready, and waiting to be inspected
before they were finally marched off. Clasping the extended hand of his
captain between his own, with a pressure indicative of his deep
gratitude, De Haldimar now proceeded to the discharge of his duty; and
having caught up the portrait, which still lay on the table, and thrust
it into the breast of his uniform, he repaired hurriedly to rejoin his
guard, from which circumstances alone had induced his unusually long
absence.