The Span o' Life Part 36

I said to myself, and was framing my defence in short order, when, 'M. Dalquier,' he said, so that all about could hear, 'the King owes you his thanks for not making that half-turn. Hold your position for five minutes, and I will answer for the battle.' Did you ever hear anything like it? Think of a general making such an acknowledgment, and before my men, too! Mort Dieu, Chevalier! Tell him I would rather have this to remember than wear the Cross of St. Louis. Go!" And he turned away his face, to hide the tears that spake of his overwhelming satisfaction.

"I will see him as soon as I can find a moment," said M. de Levis, when I repeated my message, almost as moved as the old soldier.

"Now, Chevalier, as soon as it falls dark, do you go over the ground alone, and as close to the town as possible, to see what dispositions we are to make for our trenches. Mark what Murray has attempted in the way of defences or outworks. Let me, or M. de Pontleroy, hear from you to-night, no matter how late the hour. But get some refreshment before you set out," he added, thoughtful as ever of the wants of others.

I sate down for a few moments' rest, and ate something the good nuns provided, and then borrowing a cloak to serve as a protection against the drizzling rain which had again set in, I sallied forth.

When I reached the Heights it was puzzlingly dark, though the hour was early, and I had the utmost difficulty in finding my way.

Corpses of men and horses hindered me, more than once the wounded appealed to me for help, but I went on unheeding, trying to determine my exact whereabouts, in order to begin my task. I had approached near enough the town to see the lights, and could even catch sounds from the no doubt terrified population, but paid no attention to anything save my object in hand.

Suddenly a voice shouted in the darkness, "Halte la!" to which I promptly replied:

"Etat-major, aide de M. de Levis."

"d.a.m.n your Etat-major!" was the astonis.h.i.+ng reply. "Why don't you say 'Mistaire Maxwelle'?" in an undescribable attempt at an English p.r.o.nunciation of my name.

"Come, come, Sarennes," I said, for I recognised the tall Canadian, "have you not got over your ill-humour yet? You nearly insulted me to-day in the field."

"I intended to. Do you wish me to repeat my words, or do you not know when you are insulted, unless you are struck?"

"Are you mad, or only drunk, Sarennes? Get back to camp, man, and sleep off your fit. We cannot afford to quarrel after such a day as this."

"No! you cannot afford to fight at any time. Do you think I am a woman like her whom you deceived, to be tricked by your lying tongue?"

"Stop, sir!" I commanded. "I am on duty, but my duty must wait until I have read you a lesson, which, I regret, you will not live to profit by."

We could hardly see each other, and it was utterly impossible to follow the sword-play save by feel; it was not a duel at all; it was death, sure and swift, for one or perhaps both of us in the dark.

Sure and swift it was. I lost touch of his blade, and as he lunged desperately, I avoided his stroke by dropping on my left hand, and straightening my sword-arm _en seconde_, ran him clean through the body as he came forward, his blade pa.s.sing harmlessly over me. It was a desperate chance to take, but the stakes were high.

I knelt beside the fallen man and spake to him, but he could not answer, and in common humanity I rose and hurried off to find some help.

I had not gone fifty yards before I almost ran up against a man cautiously making his way over the field. To my astonishment, I saw he was an officer of Fraser's Highlanders, and commanding him to halt, I advanced, pistol in hand, and recognized Nairn.

"You are my prisoner, sir," I declared, covering him as I spake, and then, the drollery of the situation coming over me, I dropped my arm and said, "It seems I am in for settling accounts to-night, Captain Nairn. You were good enough to remind me of some indebtedness on the field to-day, though what it was I am at a loss to determine.

Perhaps it was my refusal of your handsome offer to me in Louisbourg that I should turn traitor. No? 'Pon my soul, you are strangely quiet in private for a gentleman who was so insistent in company!

"Come, draw the sword which you flourished to so little purpose to-day, and you will find I can pay in the only coin a soldier should demand or take.

"What! Not ready yet? Would you have me produce my commission as an officer, or establish my right to arms, before you can cross swords with me? By G.o.d, sir! I will stand no more of your precious fooling. Do you think you are going to roar out at me in public like some scurvy shopkeeper, and then stand like a stock-fish when I do you the honour to ask your pleasure? Draw, sir, draw, before I am forced to strike you like a coward!"

To my amazement, instead of answering my words as they deserved, he threw up his hands with a weak cry and covered his face.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "He threw up his hands with a weak cry and covered his face."]

Supposing him to be wounded, I melted in a moment, and, stepping forward, held out my hand to him.

"Come, sir, come! You are unnerved. Tell me, are you hit?"

As I spake I still advanced to support him, and was surprised beyond measure when the supposed officer retreated before me and cried, in a voice of intense womanish entreaty, "No, no; do not touch me!"

I burst out laughing. "'Pon my soul, madam! you came near being somewhat late, with your embargo, and you have betrayed me into an exhibition of the vilest humour, for which I most humbly apologise."

She seemed somewhat uncertain how to take my drolling, whereupon I changed my tone, and asked, with every appearance of curiosity, "May I inquire how I can be of service to you?"

"Am I within the French lines?"

"No; you are on what may still be considered debatable ground. But I cannot give information to a lady whose masquerade is at least suspicious."

"I only ask, sir, to be taken within your lines. Will you do this for me?"

"I doubt it, madam, unless you can show me you have good right to be there. You are not a Frenchwoman."

"No, I am not, but I carry important information for your General."

"Pardon me, madam, but the General is fully occupied," I said, in my most repelling manner.

"Sir, I have come thus far at great risk to myself, and my news is of the utmost importance. Let me go on alone, if you will not take me in yourself."

"Madam, I have not the honour to be known to you, but, believe me, my advice is of the best when I tell you that your way is open to the town again. Take it, madam, and think nothing more of this escapade, but that you were fortunate to have fallen in with one who could advise so soundly."

"This is no escapade, sir; it has been a matter of life or death to me, and it is almost as much to your General," she said, with such earnestness that I could not doubt her intentions.

"Then, madam, if you are determined, I will take you. You cannot possibly go on alone; there are too many Indians engaged in their usual pastime of looking after white scalps. But first I must seek for help for a wounded officer, and then must complete my work.

Follow me closely, but give me your word you will not attempt any tricks," I said; for I have never been prepossessed in favour of adventurous damsels, and I mis...o...b..ed the value of her alleged information.

"That will not answer. I must go on at once! I cannot wait."

"It seems to me you are hardly in a position to choose, madam," I replied, amused at her decision.

She hesitated a moment, and then said, desperately:

"Do you know who I am, Hugh Maxwell? I am Margaret Nairn!"

Had the solid ground opened beneath my feet I could not have been more confounded.

"Margaret!" I cried, when I could find my voice. "Margaret--here?

I cannot understand. Speak to me again!"

"Yes, Hugh, I am Margaret--Margaret Nairn. I am Mme. de St. Just."

"You have been here all along and never let me know? I cannot understand."

"Do not try to understand now. Hugh! I beseech you to take me on trust and help me to go on."

But as she spake I caught sight of a moving light.

"Do not speak another word. Some one is coming. Crouch down here until I see who it is."

Advancing cautiously, I discovered the light came from a lanthorn, by the aid of which a priest was examining the bodies, hoping, no doubt, to discover some unfortunate who needed his ministrations.