VII
The sun was lifting above the tree-tops when the count's valetcalled me that morning at the Chateau Le Ray. Robins were callingunder my windows, and the groves rang with tournaments of happysong. Of that dinner-party only the count was at breakfast withme. We ate hurriedly, and when we had risen the horses were at thedoor. As to my own, a tall chestnut thoroughbred that Mr. Parishhad brought over from England, I never saw him in finer fettle. Istarted Seth by Caraway Pike for Ogdensburg with the count'smessage.
Mine host laid hold of my elbow and gave it a good shake as I lefthim, with D'ri, taking a trail that led north by west in the deepwoods. They had stuffed our saddle-bags with a plenty for man andhorse.
I could not be done thinking of the young ladies. It put my heartin a flutter when I looked back at the castle from the wood's edgeand saw one of them waving her handkerchief in a window. I liftedmy hat, and put my spurs to the flank with such a pang in me Idared not look again. Save for that one thing, I never feltbetter. The trail was smooth, and we galloped along in silence fora mile or so. Then it narrowed to a stony path, where one hadenough to do with slow going to take care of his head, there wereso many boughs in the way.
"Jerushy Jane!" exclaimed D'ri, as he slowed down. "Thet air's agran' place. Never hed my karkiss in no sech bed as they gin melas' night--softer 'n wind, an' hed springs on like them new waginsye see over 'n Vermont. Jerushy! Dreamed I was flyin'."
I had been thinking of what to do if we met the enemy and were hardpressed. We discussed it freely, and made up our minds that ifthere came any great peril of capture we would separate, each totake his own way out of the difficulty.
We halted by a small brook at midday, feeding the horses andourselves out of the saddle-bags.
"Ain't jest eggzac'ly used t' this kind uv a sickle," said D'ri, ashe felt the edge of his sabre, "but I 'll be dummed ef it don'tseem es ef I 'd orter be ruther dang'rous with thet air 'n my hand."
He knew a little about rough fighting with a sabre. He had seen myfather and me go at each other hammer and tongs there in ourdoor-yard every day of good weather. Stormy days he had alwaysstood by in the kitchen, roaring with laughter, as the good steelrang and the house trembled. He had been slow to come to it, buthad had his try with us, and had learned to take an attack withoutflinching. I went at him hard for a final lesson that day in thewoods--a great folly, I was soon to know. We got warm and mademore noise than I had any thought of. My horse took alarm andpulled away, running into a thicket. I turned to catch him.
"Judas Priest!" said D'ri.
There, within ten feet of us, I saw what made me, ever after, amore prudent man. It was an English officer leaning on his sword,a tall and handsome fellow of some forty years, in shiny top-hootsand scarlet blouse and gauntlets of brown kid.
"You are quite clever," said he, touching his gray mustache.
I made no answer, but stood pulling myself together.
"You will learn," he added, smiling, with a tone of encouragement."Let me show you a trick."
He was most polite in his manner, like a play-hero, and came towardme as he spoke. Then I saw four other Britishers coming out toclose in upon us from behind trees.
He came at me quickly, and I met him. He seemed to think it wouldbe no trick to unhand my weapon. Like a flash, with a whip of hissabre, he tried to wrench it away. D'ri had begun to shoot,dodging between trees, and a redcoat had tumbled over. I bore inupon my man, but he came back at me with surprising vigor. On myword, he was the quickest swordsman I ever had the honor of facing.
But he had a mean way of saying "Ha!" as he turned my point. Hesoon angered me, whereupon I lost a bit of caution, with someblood, for he was at me like a flash, and grazed me on the hipbefore I could get my head again. It was no parlor play, I cantell you. We were fighting for life, and both knew it. We foughtup and down through brakes and bushes and over stones--a perilousfooting. I could feel his hand weakening. I put all my speed tothe steel then, knowing well that, barring accident, I should win.I could hear somebody coming up behind me.
"Keep away there," my adversary shouted, with a fairness I admirewhen I think of it. "I can handle him. Get the other fellow."
I went at him to make an end of it.
"I'll make you squint, you young cub," he hissed, lunging at me.
He ripped my blouse at the shoulder, and, gods of war! we made thesparks fly. Then he went down, wriggling; I had caught him in theside, poor fellow! Like a flash I was off in a thicket. One ofthe enemy got out of my way and sent a bullet after me. I couldfeel it rip and sting in the muscle as it rubbed my ribs. I keptfoot and made for my horse. He had caught his reins, and I was onhim and off in the bush, between bullets that came ripping theleaves about me, before they could give chase.
Drums were beating the call to arms somewhere. I struck the trailin a minute, and, leaning low in the saddle, went bounding overlogs and rocks and down a steep hillside as if the devil were afterme. I looked back, and was nearly raked off by a bough. I couldhear horses coming in the trail behind with quick and heavy jumps.But I was up to rough riding and had little fear they would get asight of me. However, crossing a long stretch of burnt timber,they must have seen me. I heard a crack of pistols far behind; awhiz of bullets over my head. I shook out the reins and let thehorse go, urging with cluck and spur, never slacking for rock orhill or swale. It was a wilder ride than any I have known since orshall again, I can promise you, for, God knows, I have been hurttoo often. Fast riding over a new trail is leaping in the dark andworse than treason to one's self. Add to it a saddle wet with yourown blood, then you have something to give you a turn of thestomach thinking of it.
When I was near tumbling with a kind of rib-ache and could hear nopursuer, I pulled up. There was silence about me, save the soundof a light breeze in the tree-tops. I rolled off my horse, andhooked my elbow in the reins, and lay on my belly, grunting withpain. I felt better, having got my breath, and a rod of beech tobite upon--a good thing if one has been badly stung and has ajourney to make. In five minutes I was up and off at a slow jog,for I knew I was near safety.
I thought much of poor D'ri and how he might be faring. The last Ihad seen of him, he was making good use of pistol and legs, runningfrom tree to tree. He was a dead shot, little given to wastinglead. The drums were what worried me, for they indicated a bigcamp, and unless he got to the stirrups in short order, he musthave been taken by overwhelming odds. It was near sundown when Icame to a brook and falls I could not remember passing. I lookedabout me. Somewhere I had gone off the old trail--everything wasnew to me. It widened, as I rode on, up a steep hill. Where thetree-tops opened, the hill was covered with mossy turf, and therewere fragrant ferns on each side of me. The ground was clear ofbrush and dead timber. Suddenly I heard a voice singing--a sweetgirl voice that thrilled me, I do not know why, save that I alwayslonged for the touch of a woman if badly hurt. But then I havefelt that way having the pain of neither lead nor steel. The voicerang in the silent woods, but I could see no one nor any sign ofhuman habitation. Shortly I came out upon a smooth roadwaycarpeted with sawdust. It led through a grove, and following it, Icame suddenly upon a big green mansion among the trees, with Doricpillars and a great portico where hammocks hung with soft cushionsin them, and easy-chairs of old mahogany stood empty. I have saidas little as possible of my aching wound: I have always thought itbad enough for one to suffer his own pain. But I must say I wasnever so tried to keep my head above me as when I came to thatdoor. Two figures in white came out to meet me. At first I didnot observe--I had enough to do keeping my eyes open--that theywere the Mlles. de Lambert.
"God save us!" I heard one of them say. "He is hurt; he is pale.See the blood running off his boot-leg."
Then, as one took the bit, the other eased me down from my saddle,calling loudly for help. She took her handkerchief--that had aperfume I have not yet forgotten--as she supported me, and wipedthe sweat and du
st from my face. Then I saw they were the splendidyoung ladies I had seen at the count's table. The discovery putnew life in me; it was like a dash of water in the face. I liftedmy hat and bowed to them.
"Ladies, my thanks to you," I said in as good French as I knew. "Ihave been shot. May I ask you to send for a doctor?"
A butler ran down the steps; a gardener and a stable-boy hurriedout of the grove.
"To the big room--the Louis-Quinze," said one of the girls,excitedly, as the men came to my help.
The fat butler went puffing upstairs, and they followed, on eachside of me.
"Go for a doctor, quick," said one of them to the gardener, who wascoming behind--a Frenchman who prayed to a saint as he saw my blood.
They led me across a great green rug in a large hall above-stairsto a chamber of which I saw little then save its size and thewealth of its appointments. The young ladies set me down, biddingone to take off my boots, and sending another for hot water. Theyasked me where I was hurt. Then they took off my blouse andwaistcoat.
"Mon Dieu!" said one to the other. "What can we do? Shall we cutthe shirt?"
"Certainly. Cut the shirt," said the other. "We must help him.We cannot let him die."
"God forbid!" was the answer. "See the blood. Poor fellow! It isterrible!"
They spoke very tenderly as they cut my shirt with scissors, andbared my back, and washed my wound with warm water. I never felt atouch so caressing as that of their light fingers, but, gods ofwar! it did hurt me. The bathing done, they bound me big withbandages and left the room until the butler had helped me into bed.They came soon with spirits and bathed my face and hands. Oneleaned over me, whispering, and asking what I would like to eat.Directly a team of horses came prancing to the door.
"The colonel!" one of them whispered, listening.
"The colonel, upon my soul!" said the other, that sprightlyLouison, as she tiptoed to the window. They used to call her"Tiptoes" at the Hermitage.
The colonel! I remembered she was none other than the Baroness deFerre; and thinking of her and of the grateful feeling of thesheets of soft linen, I fell asleep.