TWO MEN AND A MAID
The emotion I felt was new and strange to me; for though I had known
little of young women, yet as I looked upon her in that dim light of
dawn I found myself wondering if I already loved this strange girl.
Fair as her face certainly was, its beauty rendered even more striking
by the pallor of her late exposure and the blackness of her dishevelled
hair, it was her frankness and confidence which most appealed to me.
She had held all my thoughts through the long hours of watchfulness
as I sat there quietly, feeling the rise and fall of her regular
breathing, and thrilled by the unconscious caress of stray tresses as
they were blown against my cheek. How she trusted me, stranger though
I was! Yet it was through no lack of knowledge of the great world of
men, for this young girl had known court gallants and rough soldiery,
soft-spoken courtiers and boastful men-at-arms. So the night through
I dreamed of what might be; and when the light finally came slowly
reddening the eastern sky, I feasted my eyes unchecked upon that sweet
upturned face, and made a rash vow that I would win her heart.
I was still mirroring her image in my memory, forgetful of all
else,--the broad white brow, the long dark lashes resting in such
delicate tracery against the smooth velvet of the cheek now slightly
flushed, the witching pink of the ear, the softly parted lips between
which gleamed the small and regular teeth of ivory, the round white
throat swelling ever so slightly to her breathing, when a sudden shout
of surprised recognition aroused me from my reverie, and I looked up to
see Jordan topping the sand-bank in our front, and waving his hand to
some one beneath him and out of sight.
"See here, De Croix!" he cried, excitedly, "the prodigal has had good
cause to lag behind. He has found the lost fairy of this wilderness."
Before I could relieve myself of my burden,--for the mockery of his
words angered me,--the French man appeared at his side, and glanced
down where his companion's finger pointed. For a moment he gazed; then
he murmured a sharp French oath, and strode heavily down the sand-bank.
There was a look in his face that caused me to lay the girl's head back
upon the sand and rise hastily. The sudden movement awoke her, and her
dark eyes looked up in startled confusion. By this time I had taken a
quick step forward, and faced De Croix.
"This lady is under my protection," I said, a bit hotly, not relishing
the manner of his approach, "and any disrespect from either of you will
be unwarranted."
He paused, evidently surprised at my bold front, and his lip curled
contemptuously.
"Ah, my young game-cock!" he ejaculated, surveying me curiously. "So
you have spurs, and think you can use them? Well, I have no quarrel
with you, but perchance I may have more reason to be the protector of
this young lady than you suppose. Stand aside, Monsieur."
She had risen from the sand, and now stood erect beside me. I saw
Jordan grinning in great enjoyment of the scene, and that De Croix's
eyes were full of anger; but I would not stir. In my heart I felt a
dull pain at his words, a fear that they might prove too true; but
I remained where I was, determined to take no step aside until she
herself should judge between us.
"Will you stand back, Monsieur?" he said, haughtily, dropping his hand
upon the hilt of his rapier, "or shall I show you how a gentleman of
France deals with such impertinence?"
If he thought to affright me with his bravado, he reckoned ill of my
nature, for I have ever driven badly; my blood seems slow to heat,
though it was warm enough now.
"If the lady wishes it, you may pass," I answered shortly, my eyes
never leaving his face. "Otherwise, if you take so much as another step
I will crush every bone in your body."
He saw I meant it, but there was no cowardice in him; and the steel
had already flashed in the sunlight to make good his threat, when she
touched me gently upon the shoulder.
"I beg you do not fight," she urged. "I am not worthy, and 'tis all
unneeded. Captain de Croix," and she swept him a curtsey which had the
grace of a drawing-room in it, "'tis indeed most strange that we should
meet again in such a spot as this. No contrast could be greater than
the memory of our last parting. Yet is there any cause for quarrel
because this young gentleman has preserved my life?"
De Croix hesitated, standing half-poised for attack, even his glib
tongue and ready wit failing as she thus calmly questioned him. Indeed,
as I later learned, there was that of witchery about this young girl
which held him at bay more effectually than if she had been a princess
of the royal blood,--a something that laughed his studied art to scorn.
She noted now his hesitancy, and smiled slightly at the evidence of her
power.
"Well, Monsieur, 'tis not often that your lips fail of words," she
continued, archly. "Why is it I am made the subject of your quarrel?"
The slight sarcastic sting in her voice aroused him.
"By all the saints, Toinette!" he exclaimed, striving to appear at his
ease, "this seems a poor greeting for one who has followed you through
leagues of forest and across oceans of sand, hopeful at the least to
gain a smile of welcome from your lips. Know you not I am here, at the
very end of the world, for you?"
"I think it not altogether unlikely," she replied with calmness. "You
have ever been of a nature to do strange things, yet it has always been
of your own sweet will. Surely, Monsieur, I did never bid you come, or
promise you a greeting."
"No," he admitted regretfully, "'tis, alas, true"; and his eyes seemed
to regain something of their old audacity. "But there was that about
our parting,--you recall it, Toinette, in the shadow of the castle
wall?--which did afford me hope. No one so fair as you can be without
heart."
She laughed softly, as though his words recalled memories of other
days, pressing back her hair within its ribbon.
"Such art of compliment seems more in place at Montreal than here. This
is a land of deeds, not words, Monsieur. Yet, even though I confess
your conclusion partially true, what cause does it yield why you
should seek a quarrel with my good friend, John Wayland?"
"You know him, then?" he asked, in quick astonishment.
"Know him! Do you think I should be here otherwise? Fie, Captain de
Croix, that you, the very flower of the French court, should express so
poor a thought of one you profess to respect so highly!"
He looked from one to the other of us, scarce knowing whether she were
laughing at him or not.
_"Sacre!"_ he exclaimed at last. "I believe it not, Mademoiselle. The
boy would have boasted of such an acquaintance long before this. You
know him, you say, for how long?"
"Since yester even, if you must know. But he has a face, Monsieur, a
face frank and honest, not like that of a man long trained at courts to
deceive. 'Tis for that I trust him, and have called him friend."
"You may rue the day."
"No, Captain de Croix," she exclaimed, proudly. "I know the
frontiersmen of my father's blood. They are brave men, and true of
heart. This John Wayland is of that race." And she rested one hand
lightly upon my arm.
The motion, simple as it was, angered him.
"You ask why I sought quarrel," he said sternly. "'Twas because I
suspected this uncouth hunter had wronged you. Now I understand
'twas of your own choice. I wish you joy, Mademoiselle, of your new
conquest."
I felt the girl's slight form straighten, and saw his bold eyes sink
beneath the flame of her look.
"Captain de Croix," and every sentence stung like the lash of a whip,
"those are cowardly words, unworthy a French gentleman and soldier.
Did you leave all your courtesy behind in Montreal, or dream that in
this wilderness I should cringe to any words you might speak? You wish
the truth; you shall have it. Three days ago, through an accident,
I drifted, in an oarless boat, out from the river-mouth at Fort
Dearborn to the open lake. None knew of my predicament. A storm blew
me helpless to the southward, and after hours of exposure to danger,
and great mental anguish, I was driven ashore amid the desolation of
this sand. This comrade of yours found me scarce alive, ministered to
my sore need, protected me through the hours of the night, stood but
now between me and your ribaldry, counting his life but little beside
the reputation of a woman. He may not wear the latest Paris fashions,
Monsieur, but he has proved himself a man."
"I meant not all I said, Toinette," he hastened to explain. "You will
forgive, I know, for I was sorely hurt to find that some one else had
done the duty that was plainly mine. Surely no rude backwoodsman is to
come between us now?"
She glanced from the one to the other, with true French coquetry.
"Faith, I cannot tell, Monsieur," she said, gayly; "stranger things
have happened, and 'tis not altogether fine clothes that win the hearts
of maidens on this far frontier. We learn soon to love strength, and
the manly traits of the border. On my word, Monsieur, this John Wayland
seems to have rare powers of body; I imagine he might even have crushed
you, as he said."
"Think you so?" he asked, eying me curiously. "Yet 'tis not always as
it looks, Mademoiselle."
It came so quickly as to startle me. I was wondering at the smile
that curled his lips, when he sprang upon me, casting his arms around
my waist, and twining one leg about mine. The shock of this sudden
and unexpected onset took me completely by surprise, and I gave back
sharply, scarce realizing his purpose, till he had the under-hold, and
sought to lift me for a throw. 'Twas my weight alone that saved me,
together with the rare good fortune that I had been leaning upon my gun.
As the breath came back to me, we locked grimly in a fierce struggle
for the mastery. I had felt the straining grip of strong arms before,
but De Croix surprised me, he was like steel, quick of motion as a
wild-cat, with many a cunning French wrestling trick that tried me
sorely. I heard a quick exclamation of surprise from the girl, a shout
of delighted approval from Jordan, and then there was no sound but the
harsh trampling of our feet and the heavy breathing. De Croix's effort
was to lift me to his hip for a throw; mine, to press him backward by
bodily strength. Both of us were sadly hindered by the sliding sand on
which we strove. Twice I thought I had him, when my footing failed; and
once he held me fairly uplifted from the ground, yet could not make the
toss. 'Twas a wild grapple, for when we had exhausted all the tricks
we knew, it came to be a sheer test of physical endurance. Then, for
the first time, I felt myself the master,--though he was a man, that
gay French dandy, and never did my ribs crack under the pressure of a
stronger hand. But I slowly pressed him back, inch by inch, struggling
like a demon to the last, until I forced his shoulders to the sand.
For a moment he lay there, panting heavily; then the old frank and easy
smile came upon his lips.
"Your hand, monsieur," he said; "that is, if it yet retains sufficient
strength to lift me."
Upon his feet he brushed the sand from out his long hair, and bowed
gallantly.
"I have done my very best, Mademoiselle, 'Tis defeat, but not disgrace,
for I have made your giant puff to win. May I not hope it has won me
restoration to your good graces?"