D'ri came soon with horses, one the black thoroughbred of Louise
which had brought her on this errand. We gave them free rein,
heading for the chateau. Not far up the woods-pike we met M. de
Lambert and the old count. The former was angry, albeit he held
himself in hand as became a gentleman, save that he was a bit too
cool with me.
"My girl, you have upset us terribly," said the learned doctor. "I
should like to be honored with your confidence."
"And I with your kindness, dear father," said she, as her tears
began falling. "I am much in need of it."
"She has saved my life, m'sieur," I said.
"Then go to your work," said he, coolly, "and make the most of it."
"Ah, sir, I had rather--"
"Good-by," said Louise, giving me her hand.
"Au revoir," I said quickly, and wheeled my horse and rode away.
The boats were ready. The army was waiting for the order, now
expected any moment, to move. General Brown had not been at his
quarters for a day.
"Judas Priest!" said D'ri, when we were alone together, "thet air
gal 'd go through fire an' water fer you."
"You 're mistaken," I said.
"No, I hain't nuther," said he. "Ef I be, I 'm a reg'lar
out-an'-out fool, hand over fist."
He whittled a moment thoughtfully.
"Ain' no use talkin'," he added, "I can tell a hoss from a
jack-rabbit any day."
"Her father does not like me," I suggested.
"Don't hev to," said D'ri, calmly.
He cut a deep slash in the stick he held, then added: "Don't make
no odds ner no diff'rence one way er t' other. I did n't like th'
measles, but I hed t' hev 'em."
"He'll never permit a marriage with me," I said.
"'T ain't nec'sary," he declared soberly. "In this 'ere country
don' tek only tew t' mek a bargain. One o' the blessin's o'
liberty."
He squinted up at the sky, delivering his confidence in slowly
measured phrases, to wit; "Wouldn't give ten cents fer no man 'at
'll give up a gal 'less he 'd orter--not fer nuthin' ner nobody."
I was called out of bed at cockcrow in the morning. The baroness
and a footman were at the door.
"Ah, my captain, there is trouble," she whispered. "M. de Lambert
has taken his daughters. They are going back to Paris, bag and
baggage. Left in the evening."
"By what road?"
"The turnpike militaire."
"Thanks, and good morning," I said. "I shall overhaul them."
I called D'ri, and bade him feed the horses quickly. I went to see
General Brown, but he and Wilkinson were on the latter's gig, half
a mile out in the harbor. I scribbled a note to the
farmer-general, and, leaving it, ran to the stables. Our horses
were soon ready, and D'ri and I were off a bit after daylight,
urging up hill and down at a swift gallop, and making the forest
ring with hoof-beats. Far beyond the chateau we slackened pace and
went along leisurely. Soon we passed the town where they had put
up overnight, and could see the tracks of horse and coach-wheel.
D'ri got off and examined them presently.
"Purty fresh," he remarked. "Can't be more 'n five mild er so
further on."
We rode awhile in silence.
"How ye goin' t' tackle 'em?" he inquired presently.
"Going to stop them somehow," said I, "and get a little
information."
"An' mebbe a gal?" he suggested.
"Maybe a gal."
"Don' care s' long as ye dew th' talkin'. I can rassle er fight,
but my talk in a rumpus ain' fit fer no woman t' hear, thet 's
sart'in."
We overtook the coach at a village, near ten o'clock.
D'ri rushed on ahead of them, wheeling with drawn sabre. The
driver pulled rein, stopping quickly. M. de Lambert was on the
seat beside him. I came alongside.
"Robbers!" said M. de Lambert, "What do you mean?"
The young ladies and Brovel were looking out of the door, Louise
pale and troubled.
"No harm to any, m'sieur," I answered. "Put up your pistol."
I opened the coach door. M. de Lambert, hissing with anger, leaped
to the road. I knew he would shoot me, and was making ready to
close with him, when I heard a rustle of silk, and saw Louise
between us, her tall form erect, her eyes forceful and commanding.
She stepped quickly to her father.
"Let me have it!" said she, taking the pistol from his hand. She
flung it above the heads of some village folk who had gathered near
us.
"Why do you stop us?" she whispered, turning to me.
"So you may choose between him and me," I answered.
"Then I leave all for you," said she, coming quickly to my side.
[Illustration: "Then I leave all for you."]
The villagers began to cheer, and old D'ri flung his hat in the
air, shouting, "Hurrah fer love an' freedom!"
"An' the United States of Ameriky," some one added.
"She is my daughter," said M. de Lambert, with anger, as he came up
to me. "I may command her, and I shall seek the aid of the law as
soon as I find a magistrate."
"But see that you find him before we find a minister," I said.
"The dominie! Here he is," said some one near us.
"Marry them," said another. "It is Captain Bell of the army, a
brave and honorable man."
Does not true love, wherever seen, spread its own quality and
prosper by the sympathy it commands? Louise turned to the good
man, taking his hand.
"Come," said she, "there is no time to lose."
The minister came to our help. He could not resist her appeal, so
sweetly spoken. There, under an elm by the wayside, with some
score of witnesses, including Louison and the young Comte de
Brovel, who came out of the coach and stood near, he made us man
and wife. We were never so happy as when we stood there hand in
hand, that sunny morning, and heard the prayer for God's blessing,
and felt a mighty uplift in our hearts. As to my sweetheart, there
was never such a glow in her cheeks, such a light in her large
eyes, such a grace in her figure.
"Dear sister," said Louison, kissing her, "I wish I were as happy."
"And you shall be as soon as you get to Paris," said the young
count.
"Oh, dear, I can hardly wait!" said the merry-hearted girl, looking
proudly at her new lover.
"I admire your pluck, my young man," said M. de Lambert, as we
shook hands. "You Americans are a great people. I surrender; I am
not going to be foolish. Turn your horses," said he, motioning to
the driver. "We shall go back at once."
I helped Louise into the coach with her sister and the Comte de
Brovel. D'ri and I rode on behind them, the village folk cheering
and waving their hats,
"Ye done it skilful," said D'ri, smiling. "Whut'd I tell ye?"