Chapter XII
In a Strange Fellowship
I took Marc and the ladies to the house of one Giraud, a well-tried andtrusted retainer, to whom I told the whole affair. Then I sent aspeedy messenger to Father Fafard, begging him to come at once. TheCure of Grand Pre was a skilled physician, and I looked to him to treatMarc's wound better than I could hope to do. My purpose, as I unfoldedit to Marc and to the ladies that same evening, sitting by Marc'spallet at the open cottage door, was to start the very next day inquest of the stolen child. I would take but one follower, to help mepaddle, for I would rely not on force but on cunning in this venture.I would warn some good men among my tenants, and certain others whowere in the counsels of the Forge, to keep an unobtrusive guard aboutthe place, till Marc's wound should be so far healed that he might goto Grand Pre. And further, I would put them all in the hands of FatherFafard, with whom even the Black Abbe would scarce dare to meddleopenly.
"The Cure," said I, turning to Mizpah, "you may trust both for hiswisdom and his goodness. With him you will all be secure till myreturn."
Mizpah bowed her head in acknowledgment, and looked at me gratefully,but could not trust herself to speak. She sat a little apart, by thedoor, and was making a mighty effort to maintain her outward composure.
Then I turned to where Marc's face, pallid but glad, shone dimly on hispillow. I took his hand, I felt his pulse--for the hundredth time,perhaps. There was no more fever, no more prostration, than was to beaccounted inevitable from such a wound. So I said:--
"Does the plan commend itself to you, dear lad? It troubles me sore toleave you in this plight; but Father Fafard is skilful, and I think youwill not fret for lack of tender nursing. You will not _need_ me, lad;but there is a little lad with yellow hair who needs me now, and I mustgo to him."
The moment I had spoken these last words I wished them back, for Mizpahbroke down all at once in a terrible passion of tears. But I was evera bungler where women are concerned, ever saying the wrong thing, everslow to understand their strange, swift shiftings of mood. This time,however, I understood; for with my words a black realization of thelittle one's lonely fear came down upon my own soul, till my heartcried out with pity for him; and Prudence fell a-weeping by Marc'shead. But she stopped on the instant, fearing to excite Marchurtfully, and Marc said:--
"Indeed, Father, think not a moment more of me. 'Tis the poor littlelad that needs you. Oh that I too could go with you on the quest!"
"To-morrow I go," said I, positively, "just as soon as I have seenFather Fafard."
As I spoke, Mizpah went out suddenly, and walked with rapid stridesdown the road, passing Giraud on the way as he came from mending thelittle canoe which I was to take. I had chosen a small and lightcraft, not knowing what streams I might have to ascend, what longcarries I might have to make. As Mizpah passed him, going on to leanher arms upon the fence and stare out across the water, Giraud turnedto watch her for a moment. Then, as he came up to the door where wesat, he took off his woollen cap, and said simply, "Poor lady! it goeshard with her."
"My friend," said I, "will these, while I am gone, be safe here fromtheir enemies,--even should the Black Abbe come in person?"
"Master," he replied, with a certain proud nobility, which had everimpressed me in the man, "if any hurt comes to them, it will be notover my dead body alone, but over those of a dozen more stout fellowswho would die to serve you."
"I believe you," said I, reaching out my hand. He kissed it, and wentoff quickly about his affairs.
Hardly was he gone when Mizpah came back. She was very pale and calm,and her eyes shone with the fire of some intense purpose. Had I knownwoman's heart as do some of my friends whom I could mention, I shouldhave fathomed that purpose at her first words. But as I have said, Iam slow to understand a woman's hints and objects, though men I canread ere their thoughts find speech. There was a faint glory of thelast of sunset on Mizpah's face and hair as she stood facing me, herlips parted to speak. Behind her lay the little garden, with itssunflowers and lupines, and its thicket of pole beans in one corner.Then, beyond the gray fence, the smooth tide of the expanding river,violet-hued, the copper and olive wood, the marshes all greenish amber,and the dusky purple of the hills. It was all stamped upon my memoryin delectable and imperishable colours, though I know that at themoment I saw only Mizpah's tall grace, her red-gold hair, the eyes thatseemed to bring my spirit to her feet. I was thinking, "Was there eversuch another woman's face, or a presence so gracious?" when I realizedthat she was speaking.
"Do I paddle well, Monsieur?" she asked, with the air of one whorepeats a question.
"Pardon, a thousand pardons, Madame!" I exclaimed. "Yes, you use yourpaddle excellently well."
"And I can shoot, I can shoot very skilfully," she went on, with strongemphasis. "I can handle both pistol and musket."
"Indeed, Madame!" said I, considerably astonished.
"Ask Marc if I am not a cunning shot," she persisted, while her eyesseemed to burn through me in their eager intentness.
"Yes, Father," came Marc's whispered response out of the shadow, whereI saw only the bended head of the maid Prudence. "Yes, Father, she isa more cunning marksman than I."
I turned again to her, and saw that she expected, that she thirstedfor, an answer. But what answer?
"Madame," said I, bowing profoundly, and hoping to cover mybewilderment with a courtly speech, "may I hope that you will fire agood shot for me some day; I should account it an honour above allothers if I might be indebted to such a hand for such succour."
She clasped her hands in a great gladness, crying, "Then I _may_ gowith you?"
"Go with me!" I cried, looking at her in huge amazement.
"She wants to help you find the child," whispered Marc.
The thought of this white girl among the perils which I saw before mepierced my heart with a strange pang, and in my haste I cried rudely:--
"Nonsense! Impossible! Why, it would be mere madness!"
So bitter was the pain of disappointment which wrung her face that Iput out both hands towards her in passionate deprecation.
"Forgive me; oh, forgive me, Madame!" I pleaded. "But how _could_ Ibring you into such perils?"
But she caught my hands and would have gone on her knees to me if I hadnot stayed her roughly.
"Take me with you," she implored. "I can paddle, I can serve you aswell as any man whom you can get. And I am brave, believe me. And how_can_ I wait here when my boy, my darling, my Philip, is alone amongthose beasts? I would die every hour."
How could I refuse her? Yet refuse her I would, I must. To take herwould be to lessen my own powers, I thought, and to add tenfold to theperil of the venture. Nevertheless my heart did now so leap at thethought of this strange, close fellowship which she demanded, that Icame near to silencing my better judgment, and saying she might go.But I shut my teeth obstinately on the words.
At this moment, while she waited trembling, Marc once more intervened.
"You might do far worse than take her, Father. No one else will serveyou more bravely or more skilfully, I think."
So Marc actually approved of this incredible proposal? Then was it,after all, so preposterous? My wavering must have shown itself in myface, for her own began to lighten rarely.
"But--those clothes!" said I.
At this she flushed to her ears. But she answered bravely.
"I will wear others; did you think I would so hamper you with thisguise? No," she added with a little nervous laugh, "I will play theman; be sure."
And so, though I could scarce believe it, it was settled that MizpahHanford should go with me.
That night I found little sleep. My thoughts were a chaos ofastonishment and apprehension. Marc, moreover, kept tossing, for hiswound fretted him sorely, and I was continually at his side to give himdrink. At about two in the morning there came a horseman to the gardengate, riding swiftly. Hurrying out I met him in the path. It was
Father Fafard, come straight upon my word. He turned his horse intoGiraud's pasture, put saddle and bridle in the porchway, and thenfollowed me in to Marc's bedside.
When he had dressed the wound anew, and administered a soothingdraught, Marc fell into a quiet sleep.
"He will do well, but it is a matter for long patience," said the Cure.
Then we went out of the house and down to the garden corner by thethicket of beans, where we might talk freely and jar no slumberers.Father Fafard fell in with my plans most heartily, and accepted mycharges. To hold the Black Abbe in check at any point, would, he felt,be counted unto him for righteousness.
My mind being thus set at ease, I resolved to start as soon as might beafter daybreak.
Before it was yet full day, I was again astir, and goodwife Giraud wasgetting ready, in bags, our provision of bacon and black bread. I hadmany small things to do,--gathering ammunition for two muskets and fourpistols, selecting my paddles with care from Giraud's stock, andloading the canoe to the utmost advantage for ease of running andeconomy of space. Then, as I went in to the goodwife's breakfast, Iwas met at the door by a slim youth in leathern coat and leggins, withtwo pistols and Marc's whinger. I recognized the carven hilt stuckbravely in his belt, and Marc's knitted cap of gray wool on his head,well pulled down. The boy blushed, but met my eye with a sweetfirmness, and I bowed with great courtesy. Even in this attire Ithought she could not look aught but womanly--for it was MistressMizpah. Yet I could not but confess that to the stranger she wouldappear but as a singularly handsome stripling. The glory of her hairwas hidden within her cap.
"These are the times," said I, seriously, "that breed brave women."
Breakfast done, messages and orders repeated, and farewells all spoken,the sun was perhaps an hour high when we paddled away from the littlelanding under Giraud's garden fence. I waved my cap backwards toPrudence and the Cure, where they stood side by side at the landing.My comrade in the bow waved her hand once, then fell to paddlingdiligently. I was still in a maze of wonderment, ready at any time towake and find it a dream. But the little seas that slapped us as wecleared the river mouth, these were plainly real. I headed for theeastern point of the island, intending to land at the mouth of thePiziquid and make some inquiries. The morning air was like wine in myveins. There was a gay dancing of ripples over toward Blomidon, andthe sky was a clear blue. A dash of cool drops wet me. It was nodream.
And so in a strange fellowship I set out to find the child.