CHAPTER II.
THE MAID.
Menard did not go at once to see Major Provost, the Commandant. He hadalready handed in his report at the citadel. It was probable that thiswas some new work for him. He had just settled his mind to theprospect of a rest, the first since that mad holiday, seven yearsbefore, when word had come that his lieutenant's commission was on theway. That was at Three Rivers. He wanted to idle, to waste a few weeksfor the sheer delight of extravagance, but his blood did not flow morequickly at the wish. He was an older man by a score of years--or wasit only seven?
He lingered on the square. The black-eyed children, mostly dirty andragged (for the maids whom the King had sent over by shiploads to hiscolonists had not developed into the most diligent and neathousewives) tumbled about his feet. He allowed himself to be drawninto their play. They had no awe of his uniform, for it was worn andfrayed. He had not yet taken the trouble to get out his fresher coatand breeches and boots. He thought of this, and was again amused. Itwas another sign of age. The time had been when his first care afterarriving in Quebec was to don his rich house uniform and polishedscabbard, and step gaily to the Major's house to sun himself in thewelcome of the Major's pretty wife, who had known his uncle, the Sieurde Vauban, at La Rochelle. Now he was back in Quebec from months onthe frontier, he was summoned to the Major's house, and yet he stayedand laughed at the children. For the Major's wife was older, too, andthe vivacity of her youth was thinning out and uncovering theneedle-like tongue beneath. A slim little urchin was squirming betweenhis boots, with a pursuing rabble close behind, and the Captain had totake hold of a young tree to keep his feet. He turned and started inpursuit of the children, but caught sight of two Ursuline sistersentering the square, and straightened himself. After all, a captain isa captain, even though the intoxication of spring be in him, and hisheart struggling to clamber back into the land of youth. He walked onacross the square and down the street to the Major's house.
Major Provost welcomed Menard heartily, and led him to his office."We'll have our business first," he said, "and get it done with."
Menard settled back in the carved oak chair which had for generationsbeen a member of the Major's family. The light mood had left him. Nowhe was the soldier, brusque in manner, with lines about his mouthwhich, to certain men, gave his face a hard expression.
"First let me ask you, Menard, what are your plans?"
"For the present?"
"Yes."
"I have none."
"Your personal affairs, I mean. Have you any matters to hold yourattention here for the next few weeks?"
"None."
Major Provost fingered his quill.
"I don't know, of course, how your own feelings stand, Menard. You'vebeen worked hard for three years, and I suppose you want rest. Butsomebody must go to Fort Frontenac, and the Governor thinks you arethe man."
Menard made a gesture of impatience.
"There are a dozen men here with little to do."
"I know it. But this matter is of some importance, and it may call fordelicate work before you are through with it. It isn't much initself,--merely to bear orders to d'Orvilliers,--but the Governorthinks that the right man may be able to do strong work before thecampaign opens. You probably know that we are to move against theSenecas alone, and that we must treat with the other nations to keepthem from aiding the Senecas. No one can say just how this can bedone. Even Father de Lamberville has come back, you know, from theMohawks; but the Governor thinks that if we send a good man, he may beable to see a way, once he gets on the ground, and can advise withd'Orvilliers. Now, you are a good man, Menard; and you can influencethe Indians if anyone can."
"You are a little vague, Major."
"You will go to Frontenac in advance of the army to prepare the way.La Durantaye and Du Luth are already at Detroit, awaiting orders, withclose to two hundred Frenchmen and four hundred Indians. And Tontyshould have joined them before now with several hundred Illinois."
"I don't believe he'll bring many Illinois. They must have known ofthe Iroquois war party that started toward their villages. They willstay to defend their own country. They may not know that the Iroquoisparty was recalled."
"Recalled?" said the Major.
"Yes. Father de Casson has the news from Father de Lamberville. Yousee what that means. The Iroquois have been warned."
"I was afraid of it. These new governors, Menard--each has to learnhis lesson from the beginning of the book. Why will they not takecounsel from the men who know the Indians? This campaign has beenheralded as broadly as a trading fair."
"When should I start?" asked Menard, abruptly.
"At once--within a few days." Major Provost looked at the other's setface. "I am sorry about this, Menard. But you understand, I am sure.Perhaps I had better give you an idea of our plans. You know, ofcourse, that we have three ships fitting out at Frontenac. Already ourforce is being got together at St. Helen's Island, by Montreal.Champigny is engaging canoemen and working out a transport and supplysystem between Montreal and Frontenac. The force will proceed toFrontenac, and embark from there in the ships, bateaux, and canoes."
"Is the rendezvous at Niagara?"
"No, at La Famine, on the southern shore of Lake Ontario."
Menard nodded. He knew the place; for by nearly starving there, yearsbefore, with the others of Governor la Barre's ill-starred expedition,he had contributed to giving the spot a name.
"La Durantaye and Du Luth, with Tonty, are to meet us there. You willinstruct them to move on to Niagara, and there await further orders.We shall sail around the east end of the lake and along the southshore."
"The Iroquois will follow your movements."
"We intend that they shall. They will not know where our final landingplace will be, and will have to keep their forces well in hand. And itwill prevent them from uniting to attack Niagara."
"What then?"
"We will leave a strong guard at La Famine with the stores, and strikeinland for the Seneca villages."
"And now what part am I to play in this?"
Major Provost leaned back in his chair.
"You, Menard, are to represent the Governor. You will move in advanceof the troops. At Frontenac it will be your duty to see first that theway is clear to getting the two divisions to the meeting place at LaFamine, and to see that d'Orvilliers has the fort ready for thetroops, with extra cabins and stockades. Then the Governor wishes youand d'Orvilliers to go over all the information the scouts bring in.If you can decide upon any course which will hold back the othertribes from aiding the Senecas, act upon it at once, without orders.In other words, you have full liberty to follow your judgment. Thatought to be responsibility enough."
Menard stretched his arms. "All right, Major. But when my day comes totaste the delights of Quebec, I hope I may not be too old to enjoyit."
"The Governor honours you, Menard, with this undertaking."
"He honoured De Sevigne with a majority and turned him loose inQuebec."
"Too bad, Menard, too bad," the Major laughed. "Now I, who ask nothingbetter than a brisk campaign, must rot here in Quebec until I die."
"Are you not to go?"
"No. I am to stay behind and brighten my lonely moments drilling therabble of a home guard. Do you think you will need an escort?"
"No; the river from here to Frontenac is in use every day. I shallwant canoemen. Two will be enough."
"Very well. Let me know what supplies you need. You mistake, man, ingrumbling at the work. You are building up a reputation that nevercould live at short range. Stay away long enough and you will be amore popular man than the Governor. I envy you, on my honour, I do."
"One thing more, Major. This galley affair; what do you think of it?"
"You mean the capture at Frontenac? You should know better than I,Menard. You brought the prisoners down."
"There is no doubt in my mind, Major, nor in d'Orvilliers's! We obeyedorders." Menard looked up expressively. "You know the Iro
quois. Youknow how they will take it. The worst fault was La Grange's. Hecaptured the party--and it was not a war party--by deliberatetreachery. D'Orvilliers had intrusted to him the Governor's ordersthat Indians must be got for the King's galleys. As you know,d'Orvilliers and I both protested. I did not bring them here until theGovernor commanded it."
"Well, we can't help that now, Menard."
"That is not the question. You ask me to keep the Onondagas out ofthis fight, after we have taken a hundred of their warriors in thisway."
"I know it, Menard; I know it. But the Governor's orders--Well, I havenothing to say. You can only do your best."
They went to the reception room, where Madame de Provost awaited them.Menard was made to stay and dine, in order that Madame could draw fromhim a long account of his latest adventures on the frontier. Madame deProvost, though she had lived a dozen years in the province, had neverbeen farther from Quebec than the Seignory of the Marquis de St.Denis, half a dozen leagues below the city. The stories that came toher ears of massacres and battles, of settlers butchered in thefields, and of the dashing adventures of La Salle and Du Luth, were toher no more than wild tales from a far-away land. So she chatteredthrough the long dinner; and for the first time since he had reachedthe city, Menard wished himself back on Lake Ontario, where there wereno women.
Menard returned to the citadel early in the evening. Lieutenant Dantonwas drawing plans for a redoubt, but he leaned back as Menardentered.
"I began to think you were not coming back, Captain," he said. "I'mtold the Major says that you are the only man in New France who couldhave got that trading agreement from the Onondagas last year. How didyou do it?"
"How does a man usually do what he is told to do?" Menard sat on acorner of the long table and looked lazily at the boy.
"That wasn't the kind of treaty our Governors make; you know itwasn't."
"You were not here under Frontenac."
"No. I wish I had been. He must have been a great orator. My fatherhas told me about the long council at Montreal. He said that Frontenacout-talked the greatest of the Mohawk orators. Did you learn it fromhim?"
"My boy, when you are through with your pretty pictures," Menardmotioned toward the plans, "and have got out into the real work; whenyou've spent months in Iroquois lodges; when you've been burned andshot and starved,--then it will be a pity if you haven't learned to bea soldier. What is this little thing you are drawing?"
Danton flushed. "You may laugh at the engineers," he said, "but wherewould King Louis be now if--"
"Tut, my boy, tut!"
"That is very well--"
Menard laughed. "How old are you, Danton?" he asked.
"Twenty-two."
"Very good. You have got on well. I dare say you've learned a deal outof your books. Now we have you out here in the provinces, where thehard work is done. Well send you back in a few years a real man. Andthen you'll step smartly among the pretty officers of the King, andwhen one speaks of New France you'll lift your brows and say: 'NewFrance? Ah, yes. That is in America. I was there once. Rather aprimitive life--no court, no army.' Ah, ha, my boy--no, never mind.Come up to my quarters and have a sip of real old Burgundy."
"Are you ever serious, Menard?" asked Danton, sitting on the Captain'scot and smacking his lips over the liquor.
Menard smiled. "I'm afraid I shall have to play at composure for anhour," he said. "I must see Father Claude. Settle yourself here, ifyou like."
Menard hurried away, for it was growing late. He found the Jesuitmeditating in his cell.
"Ah, Captain Menard, I am glad to see you so soon again."
Menard sat on the narrow bed and stretched out his legs as far as hecould in the cramped space.
"How soon will your duties be over here, Father?"
"There seems to be no reason for me to stay. I have delivered therelations, and no further work has come to hand."
"Then it may be that you can help me, Father."
"You know, my son, that I will."
"Very well. I have been ordered to Fort Frontenac in advance of thetroops. I am to bear orders to d'Orvilliers and to Du Luth and LaDurantaye. It is possible that there may be some delicate work to bedone among the Indians. You know the Iroquois, Father, and our twoheads together should be stronger than mine alone. I want you to gowith me."
The priest's eyes lighted.
"It may be that I can get permission at Montreal."
"You will go, then?"
"Gladly. It is to be no one else--we two--"
"We shall have canoemen. To my mind, the fewer the better."
"Still, Captain, you cannot depend on the canoemen. Would it not bewell to have one other man? You might need a messenger."
Menard thought for a moment.
"True, Father. And if I am to have a man, he had best be an officer;yes, a man who could execute orders. I'll take Danton. You will beready for a start, Father, probably to-morrow?"
"At any time, my son."
"Good night."
There was little work to be done in preparing for the journey (MajorProvost would attend to the supplies and to engaging the canoemen),and Menard still was in the lazy mood. He stood for a while at theedge of the cliff and looked down at the wharf. It was dark, and hecould not see whether the body of the Indian had been removed. Theincident of the afternoon had been gathering importance to his mindthe longer he thought of it. Five years earlier Menard had beencaptured by the Onondagas during a fight near Fort Frontenac. They hadtaken him to one of their villages, south of Lake Ontario, and fordays had tortured him and starved him. They had drawn out cords fromhis arms and legs and thrust sticks between them and the flesh. Hisback was still covered with scars from the burning slivers which theyhad stuck through the skin. They had torn the nails from his left handwith their teeth. Then Otreouati, the Big Throat, the chief who hadled his followers to believe in Frontenac, came back from a parleywith another tribe, and taking a liking to the tall young soldier whobore the torture without flinching, he adopted him into his ownfamily. Menard had lived with the Indians, a captive only in name, andhad earned the name of the Big Buffalo by his skill in the hunt. Atlast, when they had released him, it was under a compact offriendship, that had never since been broken. It had stood many tests.Even during open campaigns they had singled him out from the otherFrenchmen as their brother. He wondered whether they knew of his partin stocking the King's galleys. Probably they did.
It was late when Menard took a last sweeping look at the river andwalked up to the citadel. His day of idleness was over. After all, ithad not been altogether a wasted day. But it was the longest holidayhe was likely to have for months to come. Having made up his mind toaccept the facts, he stretched out on his bed and went to sleep.
Danton took the news that he was to be a member of the party withenthusiasm. Menard had hardly finished telling him when he swept thetiresome plans and specifications into a heap at the end of the table,and rushed out to get a musket (for a sword would have no place in thework before them). The start was to be made at noon, but Danton was onthe ground so early as almost to lower his dignity in the eyes of thebronzed canoemen. He wore his bravest uniform, with polished belt andbuttons and new lace at the neck. His broad hat had a long curlingfeather. He wore the new musket slung rakishly over his shoulder.
About the middle of the forenoon, as Menard was looking over hisorders, memorizing them in case of accident to the papers, he wasfound by Major Provost's orderly, who said that the Commandant wishedto see him at once.
The Major was busy with the engineers in another room, but he leftthem.
"Menard," he said abruptly, "I've got to ask you to do me a favour. IfI could see any way out of it--"
"I will do anything I can."
"Thank you. I suppose you know the Marquis de St. Denis?"
"Slightly."
"Well, I shan't take time to give you the whole story. St. Denis hasthe seignory six leagues to the east. You may know that he went intodebt to i
nvest in La Salle's colonizing scheme in Louisiana. St. Deniswas in France at the time, and had great faith in La Salle. Of course,now that La Salle has not been heard from, and the debts are all pastdue without even a rumour of success to make them good--you canimagine the rest. The seignory has been seized. St. Denis hasnothing."
"Has he a family?" asked Menard.
"A daughter. His wife is dead. He came here after you left last night,and again this morning. We are old friends, and I have been trying tohelp him. He is going to sail to-day on _Le Fourgon_ for Paris to seewhat he can save from the wreck. My house is crowded with the officerswho are here planning the campaign; but St. Denis has a cousin livingat Frontenac, Captain la Grange, and we've got to get Valerie theresomehow. Do you think it will be safe?"
"It's a hard trip, you know; but it's safe enough."
"I shan't forget your kindness, Menard. The girl is a spirited littlething, and she takes it hard. Madame has set her heart on getting herto La Grange. I don't know all the details myself."
"I think we can arrange it, Major. We start in an hour."
"She will be there. You are a splendid fellow, Menard. Good-bye."
Menard's face was less amiable once he was away from the house. Heknew from experience the disagreeable task that lay before him. Butthere was nothing to be said, so he went to his quarters and took alast look at the orders. Then taking off his coat and his rough shirt,he placed the papers carefully in a buckskin bag, which he hung abouthis neck.
Everything was ready at the wharf. The long canoe lay waiting, a_voyageur_ at each end. The bales were stowed carefully in the centre.Father de Casson met Menard at the upper end of the dock. He had comedown by way of the winding road, for his bundle was heavy, and he knewno way but to carry it himself. Menard good-naturedly gave him a handas they crossed the dock. When they had set it down, and Menardstraightened up, his eyes twinkled, for young Danton, in his finery,was nervously walking back and forth at the edge of the dock, lookingfixedly into the canoe, apparently inspecting the bales. His shoulderswere unused to the musket, and by a quick turn he had brought themuzzle under the rim of his hat, setting it on the side of his head.His face was red.
Sitting on a bundle, a rod away, was a girl, perhaps eighteen ornineteen years old, wearing a simple travelling dress. Her hands wereclasped tightly in her lap, and she gazed steadily out over the waterwith an air that would have been haughty save for the slight upwardtip of her nose.
"Sitting on a bundle was, a girl, perhaps eighteen ornineteen years old."]
Menard's eyes sobered, and he handed his musket to one of thecanoemen. Then he crossed over to where the maiden was sitting.
"Mademoiselle St. Denis?"
The girl looked up at him. Her eyes seemed to take in the dinginess ofhis uniform. She inclined her head.
"I am Captain Menard. Major Provost tells me that I am to have thehonour of escorting you to Fort Frontenac. With your permission wewill start. Father Claude de Casson is to go with us, and LieutenantDanton."
The bundle was placed in the canoe. Menard helped the girl to a seatnear the middle: from the way she stepped in and took her seat he sawthat she had been on the river before. Danton, with his Parisian airs,had to be helped in carefully. Then they were off, each of the fourmen swinging a paddle, though Danton managed his awkwardly at first.