The Forge in the Forest

"That for his vengeance!" whispered Tamin, with a derisive gesture. "I will take service with de Ramezay, as a regular soldier of France!"

"Even there," said I, "his arm might reach and pluck you forth. Keep back now, and let him not see your face!"

"Priest though he be, M'sieu," urged Tamin, anxiously, "he is a mighty man of his hands!"

I turned upon him a face of scorn which he found sufficient answer. Then, signing to him to hold off, I sped forward silently. No weapon had I but a light stick of green ash, just cut. There was smooth, mossy ground along the trail, and my running feet made no more sound than a cat's. I was within a pace of springing upon his neck, when he must have felt my coming. He turned like a flash, uttered a piercing signal cry, and whipped out a dagger.

"They'll never hear it," mocked I, and sent the dagger spinning with a smart pass of my stick. The same stroke went nigh to breaking his wrist. He grappled bravely, however, as I took him by the throat, and I was astonished at his force and suppleness. Nevertheless the struggle was but brief, and the result a matter to be sworn to beforehand; for I, though not of great stature, am stronger than any other man, big or little, with whom I have ever come to trial; and more than that, when I was a prisoner among the English, I learned their shrewd fashion of wrestling. In a little space the Black Abbé lay choked into submission, after which I bound him in a way to endure, and seated him against a tree. Behind him I caught view of Tamin, gesturing drolly, whereat I laughed till I marked an amazement growing in the priest's malignant eyes.

"How like you my lesson, good Father?" I inquired.

But he only glared upon me. I suppose, having no speech that would fitly express his feelings, he conceived that his silence would be most eloquent. But I could see that my next move startled him. With my knife I cut a piece from my shirt, and made therewith a neat gag.

"Though you seem so dumb at this present," said I, "I suspect that you might find a tongue after my departure. Therefore I must beseech you to wear this ornament, for my sake, for a little." And very civilly prying his teeth open, I adjusted the gag.

"Do not be afraid!" I continued. "I will leave you in this discomfort no longer than you thought it necessary to leave me so. You shall be free after to-morrow's sunrise, if not before. Farewell, good Father, and may you rest well! Let me borrow this ring as a pledge for the safe return of the fragment of my good shirt which you hold so obstinately between your teeth!" And drawing his ring from his finger I turned away and plunged into the forest, where Tamin presently joined me.

Tamin chuckled, deep in his stomach.

"My turn now!" said he. "Give me the ring, M'sieu, and I'll give you the boy!"

"I see you take me!" said I, highly pleased at his quick discernment.

We now made way at leisure back to the canoes, and our plans ripened as we went.

Before we came within hearing of the Indians I gave over the ring with final directions, to Tamin, and then hastened toward the point of land which runs far out beyond the mouth of the Habitants. Around this point, as I knew, lay the little creek-mouth wherein Tamin kept his boat. Beyond the point, perchance a furlong, was a narrow sand-spit covered deep at every flood tide. In a thicket of fir bushes on the bluff over against this sand-spit I lay down to wait for what Tamin should bring to pass. I had some little time to wait; and here let me unfold, as I learned it after, what Tamin did whilst I waited.

About sunset, the tide being far out, and the Indians beginning to expect their Abbé's return, came Tamin to them running in haste along the trail from Pereau, as one who carried orders of importance. Going straight to the chief, he pointed derisively at Marc, whose back was towards him, and cried: —

"The good father commands that you take this dog of a spy straightway to the sand-spit that lies off the point yonder. There you will drive a strong stake into the sand, and bind the fellow to it, and leave him there, and return here to await the Abbé's coming. You shall do no hurt to the spy, and set no mark upon him. When the tide next ebbs you will go again to the sand-spit and bring his body back; and if the Abbé finds any mark upon him, you will get no pay for this venture. You will make your camp here to-night, and if the good father be not returned to you by sunrise to-morrow, you will go to meet him along the Pereau trail, for he will be in need of you."

The tall chief grunted, and eyed him doubtfully. After a brief contemplation he inquired, in broken French: —

"How know you no lie to me?"

"Here is the holy father's ring, in warranty; and you shall give it back to him when he comes."

"It is well," said the chief, taking the ring, and turning to give some commands in his own guttural tongue. Tamin repeated his message word by word, then strode away; and before he got out of sight he saw two canoes put off for the sand-spit. Then he made all haste to join me on the point.

Long before he arrived the canoes had come stealing around the point and were drawn up on the treacherous isle of sand. My heart bled for the horror of death which, as I knew, must now be clutching at Marc's soul; but I kept telling myself how soon I would make him glad. It wanted yet three hours or more till the tide should cover the sand-spit. I lay very still among the young fir trees, so that a wood-mouse ran within an arm's length of my face, till it caught the moving of my eyes and scurried off with a frightened squeak. I heard the low change in the note of the tide as the first of the flood began to creep in upon the weeds and pebbles. Then with some farewell taunts, to which Marc answered not a word, the savages went again to their canoes and paddled off swiftly.

When they had become but specks on the dim water, I doffed my clothes, took my knife between my teeth, and swam across to the sand-spit. There was a low moon, obscured by thin and slowly drifting clouds, and as I swam through the faint trail of it, Marc must have seen me coming. Nevertheless he gave no sign, and I could see that his head drooped forward upon his breast. An awful fear came down upon me, and for a second or two I was like to sink, so numb I turned at the thought that perchance the savages had put the knife to him before quitting. I recovered, however, as I called to mind the orders which Tamin had rehearsed to me ere starting on his venture; for I knew how sorely the Black Abbé was feared by his savage flock. What they deemed him to have commanded, that would they do.

Drawing closer now, I felt the ground beneath my feet.

"Marc," I called softly, "I'm coming, lad!"

The drooped head was lifted.

"Father!" he exclaimed. And there was something like a sob in that cry of joy. It caught my heart strangely, telling me he was still a boy for all he had borne himself so manfully in the face of sudden and appalling peril. Now the long tension was loosed. He was alone with me. As I sprang to him and cut the thongs that held him, one arm went about my neck and I was held very close for the space of some few heart-beats. Then he fetched a deep breath, stretched his cramped limbs this way and that, and said simply, "I knew you would come, Father! I knew you would find a way!"

Chapter IV

The Governor's Signature

The clouds slipped clear of the moon's face, and we three – Marc, I, and the stake – cast sudden long black shadows which led all the way down to the edge of the increeping tide. I looked at the shadows, and a shudder passed through me as if a cold hand had been laid upon my back. Marc stood off a little, – never have I seen such quick control, such composure, in one so inexperienced, – and remarked to me: —

"What a figure of a man you are, Father, to be sure!"

I fell into his pretence of lightness at once, a high relief after the long and deadly strain; and I laughed with some pleasure at the praise. In very truth, I cherished a secret pride in my body.

"'Tis well enough, no doubt, in a dim light," said I, "though by now surely somewhat battered!"

Marc was already taking off his clothes. As he knotted them into a convenient bundle, there came from the woods, a little way back of the point, the hollow "Too-hoo-hoo-whoo-oo!" of the small gray owl.

"There's Tamin!" said I, and was on the point of answering in like fashion, when the cry was reiterated twice.

"That means danger, and much need of haste for us," I growled. Together we ran down into the tide, striking out with long strokes for the fine white line that seethed softly along the dark base of the point. I commended the lad mightily for his swimming, as we scrambled upon the beach and slipped swiftly into our clothes. Though carrying his bundle on his head, he had given me all I could do to keep abreast of him.

We climbed the bluff, and ran through the wet, keen-scented bushes toward the creek where lay the boat. Ere we had gone half-way Tamin met us, breathless.

"What danger?" I asked.

"I think they're coming back to tuck the lad in for the night, and see that he's comfortable!" replied Tamin, panting heavily. "I heard paddles when they should have been long out of earshot."

"Something has put them in doubt!" said Marc.

"Sure," said I, "and not strange, if one but think of it!"

"Yet I told them a fair tale," panted Tamin, as he went on swiftly toward his boat.

The boat lay yet some yards above the edge of tide, having been run aground near high water. The three of us were not long in dragging her down and getting her afloat. Then came the question that was uppermost.

"Which way?" asked Tamin, laconically, taking the tiller, while Marc stood by to hoist the dark and well-patched sail.

I considered the wind for some moments.

"For Chignecto!" said I, with emphasis. "We must see de Ramezay and settle this hound La Garne. Otherwise Marc stands in hourly peril."

As the broad sail drew, and the good boat, leaning well over, gathered way, and the small waves swished and gurgled merrily under her quarter, I could hardly withhold from laughing for sheer gladness. Marc was already smoking with great composure beside the mast, his lean face thoughtful, but untroubled. He looked, I thought, almost as old as his war-battered sire who now watched him with so proud an eye. Presently I heard Tamin fetch a succession of mighty breaths, as he emptied and filled the ample bellows of his lungs. He snatched the green and yellow cap of knitted wool from his head, and let the wind cool the sweating black tangle that coarsely thatched his broad skull.

"Hein!" he exclaimed, with a droll glance at Marc, "that's better than that!" And he made an expressive gesture as of setting a knife to his scalp. To me this seemed much out of place and time; but Tamin was ever privileged in the eyes of a de Mer, so I grumbled not. As for Marc, that phantom of a smile, which I had already learned to watch for, just touched his lips, as he remarked calmly:

"Vraiment, much better. That, as you call it, my Tamin, came so near to-night that my scalp needs no cooling since!"

"But whither steering?" I inquired; for the boat was speeding south-eastward, straight toward Grand Pré.

Tamin's face told plainly that he had his reasons, and I doubted not that they were good. For some moments that wide, grave mouth opened not to make reply, while the little, twinkling, contradictory eyes were fixed intently on some far-off landmark, to me invisible. This point being made apparently to his satisfaction, he relaxed and explained.

"You see, M'sieu," said he, "we must get under the loom o' the shore, so's we'll be out of sight when the canoes come round the point. If they see a sail, at this time o' night, they'll suspicion the whole thing and be after us. Better let 'em amuse themselves for a spell hunting for the lad on dry land, so's we won't be rushed. Been enough rush!"

"Yes! Yes!" assented I, scanning eagerly the point behind us. And Marc said: —

"Very great is your sagacity, my Tamin. The Black Abbé fooled himself when he forgot to take you into his reckoning!"

At this speech the little wrinkles gathered thicker about Tamin's eyes. At length, deeming us to have gone far enough to catch the loom of the land, as it lay for one watching from the sand-spit, Tamin altered our course, and we ran up the basin. Just then we marked two canoes rounding the point. They were plainly visible to us, and I made sure we should be seen at once; but a glance at Tamin's face reassured me. The Fisher understood, as few even among old woodsmen understand it, the lay of the shadow-belts on a wide water at night.

Noiselessly we lowered our sail and lay drifting, solicitous to mark what the savages might do. The sand-spit was by this so small that from where we lay it was not to be discerned; but we observed the Indians run their canoes upon it, disembark, and stoop to examine the footprints in the sand. In a moment or two they embarked again, and paddled straight to the point.

"Shrewd enough!" said Marc.

"Yes," said I, "and now they'll track us straight to Tamin's creek, and understand that we've taken the boat. But they won't know what direction we've taken!"

"No, M'sieu," muttered Tamin, "but no use loafing round here till they find out!"

Which being undoubted wisdom of Tamin's, we again hoisted sail and continued our voyage.

Having run some miles up the Basin, we altered our course and stood straight across for the northern shore. We now felt secure from pursuit, holding it highly improbable that the savages would guess our purpose and destination. As we sat contenting our eyes with the great bellying of the sail, and the fine flurries of spray that ever and again flashed up from our speeding prow, and the silver-blue creaming of our wake, Marc gave us a surprise. Thrusting his hand into the bosom of his shirt he drew out a packet and handed it to me.

"Here, perhaps, are the proofs on which the gentle Abbé relied!" said he.

Taking the packet mechanically, I stared at the lad in astonishment. But there was no information to be gathered from that inscrutable countenance, so I presently recollected myself, and unfolded the papers. There were two of them. The moon was partly clear at the moment, and I made out the first to be an order, written in English, on one Master Nathaniel Apthorp, merchant, of Boston, directing him to pay Master Marc de Mer, of Grand Pré in Nova Scotia, the sum of two hundred and fifty pounds. It was signed "Paul Mascarene, Govr of Nova Scotia." The other paper was written in finer and more hasty characters, and I could not decipher it in the uncertain light. But the signature was the same as that appended to the order on Mr. Apthorp.

"I cannot decipher this one, in this bad light," said I; "but what does it all mean, Marc? How comes the English Governor to be owing you two hundred and fifty pounds?"

"Does he owe me two hundred and fifty pounds? That's surely news of interest!" said Marc.

I looked at him, amazed.

"Do you mean to say that you don't know what is in these papers?" I inquired, handing them back.

"How should I know that?" said Marc, with a calmness which was not a little irritating. "They were placed in my pocket by the good Abbé; and since then my opportunities of reading have been but scant!"

Tamin ejaculated a huge grunt of indignant comprehension; and I, beholding all at once the whole wicked device, threw up my hands and fell to whistling an idle air. It seemed to me a case for which curses would seem but tame and pale.

"This other, then," said I, presently, "must be a letter that would seem to have been written to you by the Governor, and worded in such a fashion as to compromise you plainly!"

"'Tis altogether probable, Father," replied Marc, musingly, as he scanned the page. He was trying to prove his own eyesight better than mine, but found the enterprise beyond him, – as I knew he would.

"I can make out nothing of this other, save the signature," he continued. "We must even wait for daylight. And in the meanwhile I think you had better keep the packet, Father, for I feel my wits and my experience something lacking in this snarl."

I took the papers and hid them in a deep pocket which I wore within the bosom of my shirt.

"The trap was well set, and deadly, lad," said I, highly pleased at his confidence in my wisdom to conduct the affair. "But trust me to spring it. Whatever this other paper may contain, de Ramezay shall see them both and understand the whole plot."

"'Twill be hard to explain away," said Marc, doubtfully, "if it be forged with any fair degree of skill!"

"Trust my credit with de Ramezay for that. It is something the Black Abbé has not reckoned upon!" said I, with assurance, stuffing my pipe contentedly with the right Virginia leaf. Marc, being well tired with all that he had undergone that day, laid his head on the cuddy and was presently sound asleep. In a low voice, not to disturb the slumberer, I talked with Tamin, and learned how he had chanced to come so pat upon me in my bonds. He had been on the way up to the Forge, coming not by the trail, but straight through the forest, when he caught a view of the Indians, and took alarm at the stealth of their approach. He had tracked them with a cunning beyond their own, and so achieved to outdo them with their own weapons.

The moon now swam clear in the naked sky, the clouds lying far below. By the broad light I could see very well to read the letter. It was but brief, and ran thus: —

To my good Friend and trusted Helper Monsieur Marc de Mer: —

DEAR SIR, – As touching the affair which you have so prudently carried through, and my gratitude for your so good help, permit the enclosed order on Master Apthorp to speak for me. If I might hope that you would find it in your heart and within your convenience to put me under yet weightier obligations, I would be so bold as to desire an exact account of the forces at Chignecto, and of the enterprize upon which Monsieur de Ramezay is purposing to employ them.

Believe me to be, my dear Sir, yours with high esteem and consideration,

PAUL MASCARENE.

With a wonder of indignation I read it through, and then again aloud to Tamin, who cursed the author with such ingenious Acadian oaths as made me presently smile.

"It is right shrewdly devised," said I, "but the deviser knew little of the blunt English Governor, or never would he have made him write with such courtly circumlocutions. De Ramezay, very like, will have seen communications of Mascarene's before now, and will scarce fail to note the disagreement."

"The fox has been known to file his tongue too smooth," said Tamin, sententiously.

By this we were come over against the huge black front of Blomidon, but our course lay far outside the shadow of his frown, in the silvery run of the seas. The moon floated high over the great Cape, yellow as gold, and the bare sky was like an unruffled lake. Far behind us opened the mouth of the Piziquid stream, a bright gap in the dark but vague shore-line. On our right the waters unrolled without obstruction till they mixed pallidly with the sky in the mouth of Cobequid Bay. Five miles ahead rose the lofty shore which formed the northern wall of Minas Channel, – grim and forbidding enough by day; but now, in such fashion did the moonlight fall along it, wearing a face of fairyland, and hinting of fountained palaces in its glens and high hollows. After I had filled my heart with the fairness and the wonder of it, I lay down upon a thwart and fell asleep.

Chapter V

In the Run of the Seas

It seemed as if I had but fairly got my eyes shut, when I was awakened by a violent pitching of the boat. I sat up, grasping the gunwale, and saw Marc just catching my knee to rouse me. The boat, heeling far over, and hauled close to the wind, was heading a little up the channel and straight for a narrow inlet which I knew to be the joint mouth of two small rivers.

"Where are you going? Why is our course changed?" I asked sharply, being nettled by a sudden notion that they had made some change of plan without my counsel.

"Look yonder, Father!" said Marc, pointing.

I looked, and my heart shook with mingled wrath and apprehension. Behind us followed three canoes, urged on by sail and paddle.

"They outsail us?" I inquired.

"Ay, before the wind, they do, M'sieu!" said Tamin. "On this tack, maybe not. We'll soon see!"

"But what's this but a mere trap we are running our heads into?" I urged.

"I fear there's nothing else but to quit the boat and make through the woods, Father," explained Marc; "that is, if we're so fortunate as to keep ahead till we reach land."

"In the woods, I suppose, we can outwit them or outfoot them," said I; "but those Micmacs are untiring on the trail."

"I know a good man with a good boat over by Shulie on the Fundy shore," interposed Tamin. "And I know the way over the hills. We'll cheat the rogue of a priest yet!" And he shrewdly measured the distance that parted us from our pursuers.

"It galls me to be running from these dogs!" I growled.

"Our turn will come," said Marc, glowering darkly at the canoes. "Do you guess the Black Abbé is with them?"

"Not he!" grunted Tamin.

"Things may happen this time," said I, "and the good father may wish to keep his soutane clear of them. It's all plain enough to me now. The Indians, finding themselves tricked, have gone back on the Pereau trail and most inopportunely have released the gentle Abbé from his bonds. He has seen through our game, and has sent his pack to look to it that we never get to de Ramezay. But he will have no hand in it. Oh, no!"

"What's plain to me now," interrupted Tamin, with some anxiety in his voice, "is that they're gaining on us fast. They've put down leeboards; an' with leeboards down a Micmac canoe's hard to beat."

"Oh!" I exclaimed bitterly, "if we had but our muskets! Fool that I was, thus to think to save time and not go back for our weapons! Trust me, lad, it's the first time that Jean de Mer has had that particular kind of folly to repent of!"

"But there was nought else for it, Father," said Marc. "And if, as seems most possible, we come to close quarters presently, we are not so naked as we might be. Here's your two pistols, my good whinger, and Tamin's fishy dirk. And Tamin's gaff here will make a pretty lance. It is borne in upon me that some of the good Abbé's lambs will bleat for their shepherd before this night's work be done!"

There was a steady light in his eyes that rejoiced me much, and his voice rose and fell as if fain to break into a war song; and I said to myself, "The boy is a fighter, and the fire is in his blood, for all his scholar's prating of peace!" Yet he straightway turned his back upon the enemy and with great indifference went to filling his pipe.

"Ay, an' there be a right good gun in the cuddy!" grunted Tamin, after a second or two of silence.

"The saints be praised!" said I. And Marc's long arm reached in to capture it. It was a huge weapon, and my heart beat high at sight of it. Marc caressed it for an instant, then reluctantly passed it to me, with the powder-horn.

"I can shoot, a little, myself," said he, "but I would be presumptuous to boast when you were by, Father!"

"Ay, vraiment," said Tamin, sharply; "don't think you can shoot with the Sieur de Briart yet!"

"I don't," replied Marc, simply, as he handed me out a pouch of bullets and a pouch of slugs.

The pursuing canoes were by this come within fair range. There came a strident hail from the foremost: —

"Lay to, or we shoot!"

"Shoot, dogs!" I shouted, ramming home the good measure of powder which I had poured into my hand. I followed it with a fair charge of slugs, and was wadding it loosely, when —

"Duck!" cries Tamin, bobbing his head lower than the tiller.

Neither Marc nor I moved a hair. But we gazed at the canoes. On the instant two red flames blazed out, with a redoubled bang; and one bullet went through the sail a little above my head.

"Not bad!" said Marc, glancing tranquilly at the bullet hole.

But for my own part, I was angry. To be fired upon thus, at a priest's orders, by a pack of scurvy savages in the pay of our own party, – never before had Jean de Briart been put to such indignity. I kneeled, and took a very cautious aim, – not, however, at the savages, but at the bow of the nearest canoe.