We got our bearings, a pair of boots for D'ri, and a hearty meal in
the cabin of a settler. The good man was unfamiliar with the upper
shore, and we got no help in our mystery. Starting west, in the
woods, on our way to the Harbor, we stopped here and there to
listen, but heard only wood-thrush and partridge--the fife and drum
of nature. That other music had gone out of hearing. We had no
compass, but D'ri knew the forest as a crow knows the air. He knew
the language of the trees and the brooks. The feel of the bark and
what he called "the lean of the timber" told him which way was
south. River and stream had a way of telling him whence they had
come and where they were going, but he had no understanding of a
map. I remember, after we had come to the Harbor at dusk and told
our story, the general asked him to indicate our landing-place and
our journey home on a big map at headquarters. D'ri studied the
map a brief while. There was a look of embarrassment on his sober
face.
"Seems so we come ashore 'bout here," said he, dropping the middle
finger of his right hand in the vicinity of Quebec. "Then we
travelled aw-a-a-ay hellwards over 'n this 'ere direction." With
that illuminating remark he had slid his finger over some two
hundred leagues of country from Quebec to Michigan.
They met us with honest joy and no little surprise that evening as
we came into camp. Ten of our comrades had returned, but as for
ourselves, they thought us in for a long stay. We said little of
what we had gone through, outside the small office at headquarters,
but somehow it began to travel, passing quickly from mouth to
mouth, until it got to the newspapers and began to stir the tongue
of each raw recruit. General Brown was there that evening, and had
for me, as always, the warm heart of a father. He heard our report
with a kindly sympathy.
Next morning I rode away to see the Comte de Chaumont at
Leraysville. I had my life, and a great reason to be thankful, but
there were lives dearer than my own to me, and they were yet in
peril. Those dear faces haunted me and filled my sleep with
trouble. I rode fast, reaching the chateau at luncheon time. The
count was reading in a rustic chair at the big gate. He came
running to me, his face red with excitement.
"M'sieur le Capitaine!" he cried, my hand in both of his, "I
thought you were dead."
"And so I have been--dead as a cat drowned in a well, that turns up
again as lively as ever. Any news of the baroness and the young
ladies?"
"A letter," said he. "Come, get off your horse. I shall read to
you the letter."
"Tell me--how were they taken?"