Lords of the North Part 38

"This is too bad, Louis," said I, hurrying forward. "I forgot to send word about you. You might as well have stayed in the fort till your wounds healed. Won't you come back?"

Louis stole a furtive, sheepish glance at me, hung his head and looked away with a suspicion of moisture about his eyes.

"You always were a brute to fight at Laval! I might trick you at first, but you always ended by giving me the throw," he answered disconsolately.

"Nonsense, Louis." I was astounded at the note of reproach in his voice.

"We're even now--let by-gones be by-gones! You helped me, I helped you.

You trapped me into the fort, I tricked you into breaking a mirror and laying up a peck of trouble for yourself. Surely you don't treasure any grudge yet?"

He shook his head without looking at me.

"I don't understand. Let us begin over again. Come, forget old scores, come back to the fort till you're well."

"Pah!" said Louis with a sudden, strange impatience which I could not fathom. "You understand some day and turn upon me and strike and give me more throw."

"All right, comrade, treasure your wrath! Only I thought two men, who had saved each other's lives, might be friends and bury old quarrels."

"You not know," he blurted out in a broken voice.

"Not know what?" I asked impatiently. "I tell you I forgive all and I had thought you might do as much----"

"Do as much!" he interrupted fiercely. "_O mon Dieu!_" he cried, with a sob that shook his frame. "Take me away! Take me away!" he begged the man on whose arm he was leaning; and with those enigmatical words he pa.s.sed to the nearest boat.

While I was yet gazing in mute amazement after Louis Laplante, wondering whether his strange emotion were revenge, or remorse, the women and children marched forth with the men protecting each side. The empty threats of half-breeds to butcher every settler in Red River had evidently reached the ears of the women. Some trembled so they could scarcely walk and others stared at us with the reproach of murder in their eyes, gazing in horror at our guilty hands. At last I caught sight of Frances Sutherland. She was well to the rear of the sad procession, leaning on the arm of a tall, st.u.r.dy, erect man whom I recognized as her father. I would have forced my way to her side at once, but a swift glance forbade me. A gleam of love flashed to the gray eyes for an instant, then father and daughter had pa.s.sed.

"Little did I think," the harsh, rasping voice of the father was saying, "that daughter of mine would give her heart to a murderer. Which of these cut-throats may I claim for a son?"

"Hush, father," she whispered. "Remember he warned us to the fort and took me to Pembina." She was as pale as death.

"Aye! Aye! We're under obligations to strange benefactors when times go awry!" he returned bitterly.

"O father! Don't! You'll think differently when you know----" but a hulking lout stumbled between us, and I missed the rest.

They were at the boats and an old Highlander was causing a blockade by his inability to lift a great bale into the barge.

"Let me give you a lift," said I, stepping forward and taking hold of the thing.

"Friend, or foe?" asked the Scot, before he would accept my aid.

"Friend, of course," and I braced myself to give the package a hoist.

"Hudson's Bay, or Nor'-Wester?" pursued the settler, determined to take no help from the hated enemy.

"Nor'-Wester, but what does that matter? A friend all the same! Yo heave! Up with it!"

"Neffer!" roared the man in a towering pa.s.sion, and he gave me a push that sent me knocking into the crowd on the landing. Involuntarily, I threw out my arm to save a fall and caught a woman's outstretched hand.

It was Frances Sutherland's and I thrilled with the message she could not speak.

"I beg your pardon, Mistress Sutherland," said I, as soon as I could find speech, and I stepped back tingling with embarra.s.sment and delight.

"A civil-tongued young man, indeed," remarked the father, sarcastically, with a severe scrutiny of my retreating person. "A civil-tongued young man to know your name so readily, Frances! Pray, who is he?"

"Oh! Some Nor'-Wester," answered Frances, the white cheeks blus.h.i.+ng red, and she stepped quickly forward to the gang-plank. "Some Nor'-Wester, I suppose!" she repeated unconcernedly, but the flush had suffused her neck and was not unnoticed by the father's keen eyes.

Then they seated themselves at the prow beside the Nor'-Wester appointed to accompany the boat; and I saw that Louis Laplante was sitting directly opposite Frances Sutherland, with his eyes fixed on her face in a bold gaze, that instantly quenched any kindness I may have felt towards him. How I regretted my thoughtlessness in not having forestalled myself in the Sutherlands' barge. The next best thing was to go along with Grant, who was preparing to ride on the river bank and escort the company beyond all danger.

"You coming too?" asked Grant sharply, as I joined him.

"If you don't mind."

"Think two are necessary?"

"Not when one of the two is Grant," I answered, which pleased him, "but as my heart goes down the lake with those barges----"

"Hut-tutt--man," interrupted Grant. "War's bad enough without love; but come if you like."

As the boats sheered off from the wharf, Grant and I rode along the river trail. I saw Frances looking after me with surprise, and I think she must have known my purpose, though she did not respond when I signalled to her.

"Stop that!" commanded Grant peremptorily. "You did that very slyly, Rufus, but if they see you, there'll be all sorts of suspicion about collusion."

The river path ran into the bush, winding in and out of woods, so we caught only occasional glimpses of the boats; but I fancied her eyes were ever towards the bank where we rode, and I could distinctly see that the Frenchman's face was buried in his arms above one of the squarish packets opposite the Sutherlands.

"Is it the same la.s.s," asked Grant, after we had been riding for more than an hour, "is it the same la.s.s that was disguised as an Indian girl at Fort Gibraltar?"

His question astonished me. I thought her disguise too complete even for his sharp penetration; but I was learning that nothing escaped the warden's notice. Indeed, I have found it not unusual for young people at a certain stage of their careers to imagine all the rest of the world blind.

"The same," I answered, wondering much.

"You took her back to Fort Douglas. Did you hear anything special in the fort that night?"

"Nothing but that McDonell was likely to surrender. How did you know I was there?"

"Spies," he answered laconically. "The old _voyageurs_ don't change masters often for nothing. If you hadn't been stuck off in the Mandane country, you'd have learned a bit of our methods. Her father used to favor the Nor'-Westers. What has changed him?"

"Seven Oaks changed him," I returned tersely.

"Aye! Aye! That was terrible," and his face darkened. "Terrible!

Terrible! It will change many," and the rest of his talk was full of gloomy portents and forebodings of blame likely to fall upon him for the ma.s.sacre; but I think history has cleared and justified Grant's part in that awful work. Suddenly he turned to me.

"There's pleasure in this ride for you. There's none for me. Will ye follow the boats alone and see that no harm comes to them?"

"Certainly," said I, and the warden wheeled his horse and galloped back towards Fort Douglas.

For an hour after he left, the trail was among the woods, and when I finally reached a clearing and could see the boats, there was cause enough for regret that the warden had gone. A great outcry came from the Sutherlands' boat and Louis Laplante was on his feet gesticulating excitedly and talking in loud tones to the rowers.

"Hullo, there!" I shouted, riding to the very water's edge and flouris.h.i.+ng my pistol. "Stop your nonsense, there! What's wrong?"

"There's a French papist demands to have speech wi' ye," called Mr.