CHAPTER XIX

A CONFERENCE AND A RESOLVE

"To my mind, the risk would be extreme; and I greatly doubt the wisdom

of the step."

"But, William, what other alternative offers us any hope?"

"I confess I know not, for your last mistake has greatly aggravated the

situation."

I sat up hastily, for seemingly these words were spoken at the very

side of the bunk on which I lay. As I glanced about me I saw the room

was vacant; so I knew the conference thus accidentally overheard must

be taking place in an adjoining apartment. I was thoroughly awake when

Captain Heald's voice spoke again.

"You say a mistake,--what mistake?" he questioned, as though aggrieved.

"I have done no more than simply obey the orders of my superior

officer."

"That may be true," broke in the gentler tones of Lieutenant Helm, "but

of that we are unable to judge, for not one of your officers has been

privileged to see those orders."

"You shall see them now. If I have been remiss in taking you into my

confidence in these grave matters, it has been because of certain

malcontents in the garrison with whom I hesitated to confer."

There was a rustle of paper, and Heald read slowly. I failed to

distinguish the opening words, but as he reached the more important

portion of the document his utterance grew deeper, and I heard

distinctly this sentence:

"Evacuate the post if practicable, and in that event distribute the

property belonging to the United States in the Fort, and in the

factory or agency, to the Indians in the neighborhood."

There was a pause as he concluded. Captain Wells spoke first.

"To my mind, these orders are not positive, and leave much to your

discretion. Who brought the message, and when?"

"A Wyandot named Winnemeg. He reached here on the ninth."

"I have heard the name, and believe him worthy of confidence. Did you

advise with him?"

[Illustration: "There was a rustle of paper, and Heald read slowly:

'Evacuate the post if practicable.'"]

"Ay! Though he had no oral message from General Hull, he counselled

immediate evacuation. I also felt such action to be wise; but things

were in such condition within the Fort,--so large a number of helpless

women and children to be provided for, and so heavy a proportion of

the garrison on the sick-list,--that I found it impossible to act

promptly. The Indians gathered so rapidly without, and assumed so

hostile a manner, that I thought it suicidal to attempt a march through

the wilderness, encumbered as we should be, without some positive

understanding with their chiefs."

"I can easily comprehend all this, and that you have sought to act for

the best," was Wells's comment; "but I fail to realize how you hoped to

appease those same Indians by the wanton destruction last night of the

liquor thrown into the river. It was done in direct opposition to the

orders you have just read, and is bound to increase the hatred of the

savages. You may be sure they are not ignorant of the contents of your

despatch, and must resent the destruction of property they consider

their own."

"'Twas done upon the advice of two of their leading chiefs."

"Indeed! Which two?"

"Topenebe and Little Sauk."

"The two biggest devils in that whole Pottawattomie camp, and the head

and front of their war-party! Their purpose is clear enough to my mind,

and seamed with treachery. Well, Heald, from my knowledge of Indian

nature I must say that whoever goes forth now to confer with yonder

redskins has a desperate mission; but if you are still determined upon

such a conference, I will take my chances with you. 'Tis given unto man

but once to die."

"No, William," replied Captain Heald, with more firmness. "It is your

part to remain here in protection of your niece, my wife; and if my own

officers refuse to volunteer in this service, I shall go forth alone to

meet the chiefs. It is my duty as commandant."

"Two of your officers are here," said Wells, "and they can probably

answer for themselves. Ensign Ronan is not present."

"He is acting as officer of the day," returned Heald, somewhat stiffly,

"and is therefore not eligible for such service. Perhaps one of the

officers here present possesses courage enough for the venture?"

Apparently neither cared to express himself, after such an insinuation.

At last one, whose voice I recognized as that of Surgeon Van Voorhis,

gave utterance to his refusal.

"As the only medical officer of the garrison, I feel justified in

declining to go upon so desperate an expedition," he said gravely. "It

would expose not only my own life to unnecessary peril, but the lives

of many others as well."

"And what say you, Lieutenant Helm? Have you also personal scruples?"

I could detect a tremor in the younger officer's voice, as he answered

promptly.

"Captain Heald has before this seen me in time of danger," he said

quietly, "and can have no reason for ascribing cowardice to me. But

I will frankly say this, sir, and with all respect to my commanding

officer, I believe such conference as now proposed with the hostile

Indians yonder, at this late day, to be perfectly useless, and that

every hour's delay since the receipt of orders to evacuate the post has

only tended to increase our danger and lessen our hope of escape. I

feel now that our only chance of safety lies in defending this stockade

against attack until a rescue party from the East can reach us. I have

a young wife among the women of this garrison; to her I owe allegiance,

as well as to the flag I serve. Feeling as I do, Captain Heald, as a

soldier I will obey any command you give, and will go forth upon this

mission if ordered to do so, either in your company or alone; but I

cannot volunteer for such service. I believe it to be foolhardy, and

that whoever undertakes it goes forth to almost certain death."

"Then I shall go alone," said Heald, sternly; "nor do I look forward to

any such disastrous ending to so open a mission of peace."

"Wait," broke in Wells, impulsively. "I have a final suggestion to

make, if you are resolved to go. There rode in my party hither a

rattle-brained gallant, bearing a French commission, who ought to

prove sufficiently reckless to lend you his companionship. Faith! but

I think it may well suit the fellow. Be sides, if he wore his French

uniform it might have weight with the reds."

"Who is he?" asked Heald, doubtfully. "I seem not to have memory of

him."

"He calls himself Captain Villiers de Croix, and holds commission in

the Emperor's Guard."

Scarcely were the words spoken when I was on my feet, all vestige of

sleep gone from my eyes. De Croix was hardly a friend of mine, since

late developments, but he had been my comrade for many a league of hard

forest travel, and I was unwilling to have him carelessly sacrificed

in a venture regarding the danger of which he knew nothing. Besides,

I counted on his sword to aid in the defence of Mademoiselle. I

understood thoroughly the desperate chances of Indian treachery that

lay before such a commission as was now proposed. It was rash in the

extreme; and only the terrors of our position could sanction such an

experiment. The savages that hemmed us in were already in an ugly

mood, and fully conscious of their power. To go forth to them, unarmed

and uninvited, as Captain Heald coolly proposed doing, was to walk

open-eyed into a trap which treachery might snap shut at any time. It

was not my purpose to halt De Croix, nor to stand between him and any

adventure he might choose to undertake; but I could at least warn him,

in a friendly spirit, of the imminent danger such a thing involved.

With this thought in mind, I ran hastily across the open parade into

the officers' mess-hall, hoping I might find him loitering there. To my

hasty glance, the place appeared deserted; and I drew back, wondering

where to turn next in search. As I hesitated on the threshold, the low

voice of Mademoiselle fell upon my ear; and at that moment she emerged

from behind the curtain which divided the officers' quarters.

"May I hope you are seeking me?" she asked, graciously; "for it has

been most lonely here all day, even Captain de Croix seems to have

forgotten my existence."

"It was De Croix I sought," I answered, somewhat nettled by her prompt

reference to him; "and doubtless you are well able to give me trace of

him."

She studied me keenly, marking an angry note in my voice that I sought

vainly to disguise.

"Forever a quarrel?" she said, regretfully. "Do you know, Master

Wayland, I had thought better of you. Surely it is not your nature to

be a brawler, and always seeking opportunity to show the strong hand!

What has Captain de Croix done now to make you seek him so vengefully?"

"'Tis not in quarrel," I explained,--I fear with ill grace, for her

words in his defence were little inclined to mollify me. "You may

indeed have so poor conception of me as to misinterpret my coming; yet

in truth I seek De Croix in friendship, hoping that I may by a chance

word serve him."

"Indeed! what danger threatens, that he needs to be warned against?"

I hesitated; for, now that my blood had somewhat cooled, my mission

seemed a bit foolish.

"I insist upon knowing," she continued haughtily, her eyes full upon

mine, "or I shall believe you sought him for hostile purpose, and would

deceive me by fair words."

"Mademoiselle," I answered gravely, "you do me wrong. Only a few

moments ago I chanced to overhear a discussion, by the officers of

this Fort, regarding a commission to go forth and hold council with

the Indians. Captain Heald is determined upon such a course; but none

will volunteer to accompany him, because of the grave danger of savage

treachery. The Frenchman's name was mentioned as one reckless enough

to join with such a party; and I sought to warn him ere he accepted

blindly. He is hardly a friend of mine,--yet it seems no more than fair

that he should know the full measure of his peril before saying 'yes.'"

She came impulsively forward, with quickly extended hand, her face

aglow.

"You are indeed a true heart, John Wayland, and have shamed me

rightly. I know well the deceit and treachery of Indian nature, and can

understand the peril such a party would run. Promise me that you will

prevent Captain de Croix from becoming one of them."

"I?" I exclaimed in perplexed surprise; "I can do no more than warn

him."

"But you must do more!" she cried imperatively. "He will surely go if

asked. A warning such as you propose would only stir his blood. I beg

you to use your wits a little, so that he may know nothing of it."

I looked at her, deeply hurt by the interest so openly displayed.

"You are wondrously aroused for the Frenchman's safety, Mademoiselle!"

"Yes, though not as you may fancy. Captain de Croix came here for my

sake, even though no word of mine gave him reason for doing so. For

this reason I could never forgive myself if harm befell him on such a

journey. 'Twould be as if I had lured him to his death. So 'tis for my

sake, not his, that I ask the favor."

I leaned against the log wall and thought quickly, her anxious eyes

never leaving my face. There came into my mind a conviction that the

girl really loved him; and this made the struggle harder for me to

serve him. Nor did I see clearly how it could well be done, save

through a sacrifice of myself, such as I had never intended.

"Surely," she urged, "your wits will conceive some way in which it may

be done?"

"Yes," I answered, eager now to hide my own feeling from her; "'tis not

hopeless. You desire that he be kept within the Fort, ignorant of this

commission?"

"I do; 'tis the only way."

"Very well, it shall be done, Mademoiselle. No, I need no thanks from

you. Only do this simple thing, which, I am sure, you will find no

hardship,--keep Captain de Croix from any possible contact with others

for an hour. Your eyes will prove sufficient, no doubt, to enchain him

that long; if not, use other measures."

"But what will you do?"

"That does not count. 'Tis the result, not the means, that must content

you. I have my plan, and it will work; but I cannot stay here longer to

discuss it. Only do your part well, and I pledge you the safety of De

Croix."

I left her standing there, the light of questioning still in her eyes;

but I wished mainly to be safely away, where I might hide my own sudden

heart-ache in the energy of action.

When Wilderness was King: A Tale of the Illinois Country · 第 19 / 36 章