REUNION.
The wounded man fell to the ground, and Claude, dropping his sword,
sank on his knees beside him. In that one instant all his anger and
his hate fled away. It was no longer Cazeneau, his mortal enemy, whom
he saw, but his fellow-creature, laid low by his hand. The thought
sent a quiver through every nerve, and it was with no ordinary
emotion that Claude sought to relieve his fallen enemy. But Cazeneau
was unchanged in his implacable hate; or, if possible, he was even
more bitter and more malignant now, since he had thus been beaten.
"Away!" he cried, in a faint voice. "Away! Touch me not. Do not exult
yet, Montresor. You think you have--avenged--your cursed father--and
your mother. Do not exult too soon; at least you are--a pauper--a
pauper--a pauper! Away! My own people--will care for me."
Claude rose at this, and motioned to Cazeneau's Indians. They came
up. One of them examined the wound. He then looked up at Claude, and
solemnly shook his head.
"May Heaven have mercy on his soul!" murmured Claude. "I thank Heaven
that I do not know all the bitter wrong that he has done to my
parents. What he has done to me I forgive."
Then, by a sudden impulse, he bent down over the fallen man.
"Cazeneau," said he, "you're a dying man. You have something on your
conscience now. What you have done to me I forgive. May others whom
you have injured do the same."
At this magnanimous speech Cazeneau rolled his glaring eyes furiously
towards the young man, and then, supplied with a sudden spasmodic
strength by his own passion, he cried out, with bitter oaths and
execrations,--
"Curse you! you and all your race!"
He raised himself slightly as he said this. The next instant he fell
back, senseless. For a moment Claude stood looking at the lifeless
form, undecided what to do. Should he remain here longer? If Cazeneau
should revive, it would only be to curse him; if he died, he could do
nothing. Would it not be better to hurry forward after the rest of
the party, who could not be very far away? If so, he could send back
the priest, who would come in time either for life or death. The
moment that he thought of this he decided that he would hurry forward
for the priest. He then explained to his guide what he wished, and
asked the Indians of Cazeneau how far the rest of the party were.
They could speak but very little French, but managed to make Claude
understand that they were not far. To his Indian they said more, and
he told his employer. What they said was to this effect: that on this
morning Cazeneau had left the party with these two Indians, for the
sake of a little recreation in hunting. The rest had gone forward,
with the understanding that they should not go more than two or three
hours. Then they were to halt and wait. Cazeneau was just about to go
after them as Claude came up.
[Illustration: "Curse You And All Your Race."]
This information showed Claude that the rest of the party were within
easy distance, and that the priest could be reached and sent back
before evening. Accordingly he hesitated no longer, but set forth at
once in the greatest haste.
The thought that Mimi was so near inspired Claude with fresh energy.
Although he had been on the tramp all day, and without
rest,--although he had received a severe and unparalleled shock in
the terrible fate of Cazeneau,--yet the thought of Mimi had
sufficient power over him to chase away the gloom that for a time had
fallen over his soul. It was enough to him now that a priest was
within reach. Upon that priest he could throw all the responsibility
which arose out of the situation of his enemy. These were the
thoughts that animated him, and urged him forward.
The Indians of Cazeneau had made him understand that they were only a
few hours ahead; but Claude thought that they were even nearer. He
thought it unlikely that Cazeneau would let them go very far, and
supposed that he had ordered the other Indians to go slowly, and halt
after about three or four miles. He therefore confidently expected to
come up with them after traversing about that distance.
With this belief he urged on his attendants, and himself put forth
all his powers, until at length, after nearly two hours, he was
compelled to slacken his speed. This showed that they were not so
near as he had expected; yet still he believed that they were just
ahead, and that he would come up with them every moment.
Thus his mind was kept upon a constant strain, and he was always on
the lookout, watching both with eyes and ears either to see some sign
of them, or to hear them as they went on before him. And this
constant strain of mind and of sense, and this sustained attitude of
expectation, made the way seem less, and the time seem short; and
thus, though there was a certain disappointment, yet still the hope
of seeing them every next minute kept up his spirits and his
energies. Thus he went on, like one who pursues an _ignis fatuus_,
until at length the light of day faded out, and the shades of night
settled down over the forest.
He would certainly have thought that he had missed the way, had it
not been for one fact; and that was, that the track of the party whom
he was pursuing was as plain as ever, and quite fresh, showing that
they had passed over it this very day. The Indians with him were all
certain of this. It showed him that however fast he had gone, they
had been going yet faster, and that all his eagerness to catch up
with them had not been greater than their eagerness to advance. Why
was this? Suddenly the whole truth flashed upon his mind.
The priest had unexpectedly shaken off Cazeneau. He had evidently
resolved to try to escape. His strange influence over the Indians
had, no doubt, enabled him to make them his accomplices. With the
hope, therefore, of shaking off Cazeneau, he had hurried on as fast
as possible.
Still there was one thing, and that was, that they would have to
bring up somewhere. It was more than probable that the priest would
try to reach Canso. In that case Claude had only to keep on his
track, and he would get to that place not very long after him;
sufficiently soon, at any rate, to prevent missing him. As to
Louisbourg, if the priest should go there, he also could go there,
and with impunity now, since his enemy was no more. As for the
unhappy Cazeneau, he found himself no longer able to send him the
priest; but he did not feel himself to blame for that, and could only
hope that he might reach the priest before it should be altogether
too late.
A slight repast that night, which was made from some fragments which
he had carried in his pocket, a few hours' sleep, and another slight
repast on the following morning, made from an early bird which he had
shot when it was on its way to get its worm, served to prepare him
for the journey before him.
The Indians informed him that the Strait of Canso was now not more
than a day and a half distant. The news was most welcome to Claude.
The Strait of Canso seemed like a place where the priest would be
compelled to make some sort of a halt, either while waiting for a
chance to cross or while making a detour to get to Canso. For his
part, he would have one great advantage, and that was, that he would
not be compelled to think about his course. All that he had to do was
to follow the track before him as rapidly and as perseveringly as
possible.
All that day Claude hurried onward without stopping to halt, being
sustained by his own burning impatience, and also by that same hope
which had supported him on the preceding day. But it was, as before,
like the pursuit of an _ignis fatuus_, and ever the objects of his
pursuit seemed to elude him.
At length, towards the close of the day, they reached a river, and
the trail ran along by its side for miles, sometimes leaving it, and
again returning to it. The path was broad, the woods were free from
underbrush, and more open than usual.
Suddenly the guide stopped and looked forward, with the instinct of
his Indian caution. But Claude had one idea only in his mind, and
knowing well that there could be no enemy now, since Cazeneau was out
of the way, he hurried onward. Some moving figures attracted his
gaze. Then he saw horses, and some men and women. Then he emerged
from the trees, bursting forth at a run into an open place which lay
upon the river bank. One glance was sufficient. It was the priest and
his party. With a cry of joy he rushed forward. The others saw him
coming. The priest turned in amazement; for he had no idea that
Claude was so near. Before he could speak a word, however, the young
man had flung himself into his arms, and the priest returned his
embrace with equal warmth. Claude then turned to Mimi, who was
standing near, and in the rapture of that meeting was on the point of
catching her in his arms also; but Mimi saw the movement, and
retreated shyly, while a mantling blush over her lovely features
showed both joy and confusion. So Claude had to content himself with
taking her hand, which he seized in both of his, and held as though
he would never let go.
After these first greetings, there followed a torrent of questions
from both sides. The priest's story was but a short one. On the day
when Cazeneau had left them, he had gone on a short hunting
excursion, simply for the sake of relieving the monotony of the long
tramp. He had charged the Indians not to go farther than two hours
ahead. His intention was to make a circuit, and join them by evening.
But the Indians were altogether under the influence of Pere Michel,
and were willing to do anything that he wished. The "Great
Father,"--the French king,--with whom Cazeneau thought he could
overawe them, was in truth a very shadowy and unsubstantial
personage. But Pere Michel was one whom they knew, and for some
reason regarded with boundless veneration. When, therefore, he
proposed to them to go on, they at once acceded. For Pere Michel
caught at this unexpected opportunity to escape, which was thus
presented, and at once set forth at the utmost possible speed. He
travelled all that day and far into the night, until he thought that
a sufficient distance had been put between himself and Cazeneau to
prevent capture. He would have gone much farther on this day had it
not been for Mimi, who, already fatigued by her long journey, was
unable to endure this increased exertion, and after trying in vain to
keep up, was compelled to rest. They had been encamping here for
about three hours, and were already deliberating about a night
journey, when Claude came up.
The time had been spent in constructing a sort of litter, which the
priest intended to sling between two horses, hoping by this means to
take Mimi onward with less fatigue. He had made up his mind, as
Claude indeed had suspected, to make for Canso, so as to put himself
out of the reach of Cazeneau.
Claude then told the priest his story, to which the latter listened
with deep emotion. He had not anticipated anything like this. Amazed
as he had been at the sudden appearance of Claude, he had thought
that by some happy accident the young man had eluded Cazeneau, and he
now learned how it really was.
For some time he said not a single word, and indeed there was nothing
that he could say. He knew well that Claude had been deeply and
foully wronged by Cazeneau, and he knew also that this last act was
hardly to be considered as anything else than the act of Cazeneau
himself, who first attacked Claude, and forced him to fight.
But there still remained to be considered what might now be done.
Claude's first thought was the one which had been in his mind during
the past day; that is to say, he still thought of sending the priest
back to Cazeneau, without thinking of the distance, and the time that
now lay between. His excitement had prevented him from taking this
into consideration. The priest, however, at once reminded him of it.
"I do not see," said he, "what I can do. You forget how long it is
since you left him. He must be dead and buried by this time. Even if
he should linger longer than you expected, I could not hope to reach
that place in time to do anything, not even to bury him. It is a good
two days' journey from here to there. It is two days since you left
him. It would take two days more for me to reach him. That makes four
days. By that time, if he is dead, he would already be buried; and if
he is living, he would be conveyed by the Indians to some place of
rest and shelter.
"As long as I thought that Cazeneau was pursuing us," continued the
priest, "I tried to advance as rapidly as possible, and intended to
go to Canso, where I should be safe from him. But now that he can
trouble us no more, there is no reason why we should not go to
Louisbourg. That will be better for Mimi, and it will also suit my
views better. You, too, may as well go there, since you will be able
to carry out your own plans, whatever they are, from that place
better than from any other."
The result of this conversation was, that they decided to go to
Louisbourg.