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The Refugees

Chapter 35. The Tapping Of Death.
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day was just breaking as the four comrades entered the gate of the stockade, but early as it was the censitaires and their families were all afoot staring at the prodigious fire which raged to the south of them. de catinat burst through the throng and rushed upstairs to adele, who had herself flown down to meet him, so that they met in each other’s arms half-way up the great stone staircase with a burst of those little inarticulate cries which are the true unwritten language of love. together, with his arm round her, they ascended to the great hall where old de la noue with his son were peering out of the window at the wonderful spectacle.

“ah, monsieur,” said the old nobleman, with his courtly bow, “i am indeed rejoiced to see you safe under my roof again, not only for your own sake, but for that of madame’s eyes, which, if she will permit an old man to say so, are much too pretty to spoil by straining them all day in the hopes of seeing some one coming out of the forest. you have done forty miles, monsieur de catinat, and are doubtless hungry and weary. when you are yourself again i must claim my revenge in piquet, for the cards lay against me the other night.”

but du lhut had entered at de catinat’s heels with his tidings of disaster.

“you will have another game to play, monsieur de sainte–marie,” said he. “there are six hundred iroquois in the woods and they are preparing to attack.”

“tut, tut, we cannot allow our arrangements to be altered by a handful of savages,” said the seigneur. “i must apologise to you, my dear de catinat, that you should be annoyed by such people while you are upon my estate. as regards the piquet, i cannot but think that your play from king and knave is more brilliant than safe. now when i played piquet last with de lannes of poitou—”

“de lannes of poitou is dead, and all his people,” said du lhut. “the blockhouse is a heap of smoking ashes.”

the seigneur raised his eyebrows and took a pinch of snuff, tapping the lid of his little round gold box.

“i always told him that his fort would be taken unless he cleared away those maple trees which grew up to the very walls. they are all dead, you say?”

“every man.”

“and the fort burned?”

“not a stick was left standing.”

“have you seen these rascals?”

“we saw the trail of a hundred and fifty. then there were a hundred in canoes, and a war-party of four hundred passed us under the flemish bastard. their camp is five miles down the river, and there cannot be less than six hundred.”

“you were fortunate in escaping them.”

“but they were not so fortunate in escaping us. we killed brown moose and his son, and we fired the woods so as to drive them out of their camp.”

“excellent! excellent!” said the seigneur, clapping gently with his dainty hands. “you have done very well indeed, du lhut! you are, i presume, very tired?”

“i am not often tired. i am quite ready to do the journey again.”

“then perhaps you would pick a few men and go back into the woods to see what these villains are doing?”

“i shall be ready in five minutes.”

“perhaps you would like to go also, achille?” his son’s dark eyes and indian face lit up with a fierce joy.

“yes, i shall go also,” he answered.

“very good, and we shall make all ready in your absence. madame, you will excuse these little annoyances which mar the pleasure of your visit. next time that you do me the honour to come here i trust that we shall have cleared all these vermin from my estate. we have our advantages. the richelieu is a better fish pond, and these forests are a finer deer preserve than any of which the king can boast. but on the other hand we have, as you see, our little troubles. you will excuse me now, as there are one or two things which demand my attention. de catinat, you are a tried soldier and i should be glad of your advice. onega, give me my lace handkerchief and my cane of clouded amber, and take care of madame until her husband and i return.”

it was bright daylight now, and the square enclosure within the stockade was filled with an anxious crowd who had just learned the evil tidings. most of the censitaires were old soldiers and trappers who had served in many indian wars, and whose swarthy faces and bold bearing told their own story. they were sons of a race which with better fortune or with worse has burned more powder than any other nation upon earth, and as they stood in little groups discussing the situation and examining their arms, a leader could have asked for no more hardy or more war-like following. the women, however, pale and breathless, were hurrying in from the outlying cottages, dragging their children with them, and bearing over their shoulders the more precious of their household goods. the confusion, the hurry, the cries of the children, the throwing down of bundles and the rushing back for more, contrasted sharply with the quiet and the beauty of the woods which encircled them, all bathed in the bright morning sunlight. it was strange to look upon the fairy loveliness of their many-tinted foliage, and to know that the spirit of murder and cruelty was roaming unchained behind that lovely screen.

the scouting party under du lhut and achille de la noue had already left, and at the order of the seigneur the two gates were now secured with huge bars of oak fitted into iron staples on either side. the children were placed in the lower store-room with a few women to watch them, while the others were told off to attend to the fire buckets, and to reload the muskets. the men had been paraded, fifty-two of them in all, and they were divided into parties now for the defence of each part of the stockade. on one side it had been built up to within a few yards of the river, which not only relieved them from the defence of that face, but enabled them to get fresh water by throwing a bucket at the end of a rope from the stockade. the boats and canoes of sainte marie were drawn up on the bank just under the wall, and were precious now as offering a last means of escape should all else fail. the next fort, st. louis, was but a few leagues up the river, and de la noue had already sent a swift messenger to them with news of the danger. at least it would be a point on which they might retreat should the worst come to the worst. and that the worst might come to the worst was very evident to so experienced a woodsman as amos green. he had left ephraim savage snoring in a deep sleep upon the floor, and was now walking round the defences with his pipe in his mouth, examining with a critical eye every detail in connection with them. the stockade was very strong, nine feet high and closely built of oak stakes which were thick enough to turn a bullet. half-way up it was loop-holed in long narrow slits for the fire of the defenders. but on the other hand the trees grew up to within a hundred yards of it, and formed a screen for the attack, while the garrison was so scanty that it could not spare more than twenty men at the utmost for each face. amos knew how daring and dashing were the iroquois warriors, how cunning and fertile of resource, and his face darkened as he thought of the young wife who had come so far in their safe-keeping, and of the women and children whom he had seen crowding into the fort.

“would it not be better if you could send them up the river?” he suggested to the seigneur.

“i should very gladly do so, monsieur, and perhaps if we are all alive we may manage it to-night if the weather should be cloudy. but i cannot spare the men to guard them, and i cannot send them without a guard when we know that iroquois canoes are on the river and their scouts are swarming on the banks.”

“you are right. it would be madness.”

“i have stationed you on this eastern face with your friends and with fifteen men. monsieur de catinat, will you command the party?”

“willingly.”

“i will take the south face as it seems to be the point of danger. du lhut can take the north, and five men should be enough to watch the river side.”

“have we food and powder?”

“i have flour and smoked eels enough to see this matter through. poor fare, my dear sir, but i daresay you learned in holland that a cup of ditch water after a brush may have a better smack than the blue-sealed frontiniac which you helped me to finish the other night. as to powder, we have all our trading stores to draw upon.”

“we have not time to clear any of these trees?” asked the soldier.

“impossible. they would make better shelter down than up.”

“but at least i might clear that patch of brushwood round the birch sapling which lies between the east face and the edge of the forest. it is good cover for their skirmishers.”

“yes, that should be fired without delay.”

“nay, i think that i might do better,” said amos. “we might bait a trap for them there. where is this powder of which you spoke?”

“theuriet, the major-domo, is giving out powder in the main store-house.”

“very good.” amos vanished upstairs, and returned with a large linen bag in his hand. this he filled with powder, and then, slinging it over his shoulder, he carried it out to the clump of bushes and placed it at the base of the sapling, cutting a strip out of the bark immediately above the spot. then with a few leafy branches and fallen leaves he covered the powder bag very carefully over so that it looked like a little hillock of earth. having arranged all to his satisfaction he returned, clambering over the stockade, and dropping down upon the other side.

“i think that we are all ready for them now,” said the seigneur. “i would that the women and children were in a safe place, but we may send them down the river to-night if all goes well. has anyone heard anything of du lhut?”

“jean has the best ears of any of us, your excellency,” said one man from beside the brass corner cannon. “he thought that he heard shots a few minutes ago.”

“then he has come into touch with them. etienne, take ten men and go to the withered oak to cover them if they are retreating, but do not go another yard on any pretext. i am too short-handed already. perhaps, de catinat, you wish to sleep?”

“no, i could not sleep.”

“we can do no more down here. what do you say to a round or two of piquet? a little turn of the cards will help us to pass the time.”

they ascended to the upper hall, where adele came and sat by her husband, while the swarthy onega crouched by the window looking keenly out into the forest. de catinat had little thought to spare upon the cards, as his mind wandered to the danger which threatened them and to the woman whose hand rested upon his own. the old nobleman, on the other hand, was engrossed by the play, and cursed under his breath, or chuckled and grinned as the luck swayed one way or the other. suddenly as they played there came two sharp raps from without.

“some one is tapping,” cried adele.

“it is death that is tapping,” said the indian woman at the window.

“ay, ay, it was the patter of two spent balls against the woodwork. the wind is against our hearing the report. the cards are shuffled. it is my cut and your deal. the capot, i think, was mine.”

“men are rushing from the woods,” cried onega.

“tut! it grows serious!” said the nobleman. “we can finish the game later. remember that the deal lies with you. let us see what it all means.”

de catinat had already rushed to the window. du lhut, young achille de la noue, and eight of the covering party were running with their heads bent towards the stockade, the door of which had been opened to admit them. here and there from behind the trees came little blue puffs of smoke, and one of the fugitives who wore white calico breeches began suddenly to hop instead of running and a red splotch showed upon the white cloth. two others threw their arms round him and the three rushed in abreast while the gate swung into its place behind them. an instant later the brass cannon at the corner gave a flash and a roar while the whole outline of the wood was traced in a rolling cloud, and the shower of bullets rapped up against the wooden wall like sleet on a window.

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