D'ri's narrative was the talk of the garrison. Those who heard the
telling, as I did not, were fond of quoting its odd phrases, and of
describing how D'ri would thrust and parry with his jack-knife in
the story of the bouts.
The mystery of that plunge into darkness and invisible water was a
trial to my nerves the like of which I had never suffered. After
they had pulled his Lordship out of the grave, and I knew there
would be no more fighting, I began to feel the strain he had put
upon me. He was not so strong as D'ri, but I had never stood
before a quicker man. His blade was as full of life and cunning as
a cat's paw, and he tired me. When I went under water I felt sure
it was all over, for I was sick and faint. I had been thinking of
D'ri in that quick descent. I wondered if he was the man who had
got away and gone down the slide. I was not the less amazed,
however, to feel his strong hand upon me as I came up. I knew
nothing for a time. D'ri has told me often how he bore me up in
rapid water until he came into an eddy where he could touch bottom.
There, presently, I got back my senses and stood leaning on his
broad shoulder awhile. A wind was blowing, and we could hear a
boat jumping in the ripples near by. We could see nothing, it was
so dark, but D'ri left me, feeling his way slowly, and soon found
the boat. He whistled to me, and I made my way to him. There were
oars in the bottom of the boat. D'ri helped me in, where I lay
back with a mighty sense of relief. Then he hauled in a rope and
anchor, and shoved off. The boat, overrunning the flow in a
moment, shot away rapidly. I could feel it take headway as we
clove the murmuring waters. D'ri set the oars and helped it on. I
lay awhile thinking of all the blood and horror in that black
night--like a dream of evil that leads through dim regions of
silence into the shadow of death. I thought of the hinted peril of
the slide that was to be the punishment of poor courage.
D'ri had a plausible theory of the slide. He said that if we had
clung to the sides of it to break our speed we 'd have gone down
like a plummet and shattered our bones on a rocky shore. Coming
fast, our bodies leaped far into the air and fell to deep water.
How long I lay there thinking, as I rested, I have no satisfactory
notion. Louise and Louison came into my thoughts, and a plan of
rescue. A rush of cavalry and reeking swords, a dash for the
boats, with a flying horse under each fair lady, were in that
moving vision. But where should we find them? for I knew not the
name of that country out of which we had come by ways of darkness
and peril. The old query came to me, If I had to choose between
them, which should I take? There was as much of the old doubt in
me as ever. For a verity, I loved them both, and would die for
either. I opened my eyes at last, and, rising, my hands upon the
gunwales, could dimly see the great shoulders of D'ri swaying back
and forth as he rowed. The coming dawn had shot an arrow into the
great, black sphere of night, cracking it from circumference to
core, and floods of light shortly came pouring in, sweeping down
bridges of darkness, gates of gloom, and massy walls of shadow. We
were in the middle of a broad river--the St. Lawrence, we knew,
albeit the shores were unfamiliar to either of us. The sunlight
stuck in the ripples, and the breeze fanned them into flowing fire.
The morning lighted the green hills of my native land with a mighty
splendor. A new life and a great joy came to me as I filled my
lungs with the sweet air. D'ri pulled into a cove, and neither
could speak for a little. He turned, looking out upon the river,
and brushed a tear off his brown cheek.
"No use talking" said he, in a low tone, as the bow hit the shore,
"ain' no country luk this 'un, don' care where ye go."
As the oars lay still, we could hear in the far timber a call of
fife and drum. Listening, we heard the faint familiar strains of
"Yankee Doodle." We came ashore in silence, and I hugged the
nearest tree, and was not able to say the "Thank God!" that fell
from my lips only half spoken.