26 A Race for a Rescue

Some days after our repulse at Montmorency Zeb Crane hunted me up on the Isle of Orleans, where I had returned after an up-the-river expedition.

The strange boy had been in Quebec ever since the battle. He seemed to pass and repass the gates with ease, having found better ways for coming out since he and I made the venture together.

“The French are making a great noise over their victory, leftenant,” said Zeb, “and pretend to think this Quebec business is all over. Vaudreuil, the governor, has told his friends that they need feel no more anxiety, and that if General Wolfe should attack again he’d find a welcome still warmer than he had at Montmorency.”

“Did you see anything of our friends the de St. Maur’s, Zeb?” I asked.

“Your friends, you mean,” said Zeb with a sly grin.

“Put it that way, if you wish,” I replied.

“I haven’t seen anythin’ of ’em,” said Zeb, “but I saw a fat friend of theirs, and I let him know I was a friend of yours.”

“Father Michel?” I asked.

“He was a priest, and that was his name,” replied Zeb, “an’ because I saw him and talked with him is the reason I’ve come to see you. He gave me this letter for you.”

He handed me a note from Father Michel. It was brief, but it excited and alarmed me. It said: “Louise is at the de St. Maur manor house. Savaignan with others has followed her. Go there if you can.” The priest had wisely left it unsigned.

I held the letter in my hand for a few moments considering. That Savaignan would offer harm to Louise, perhaps kidnap her, I did not doubt, but in a very few minutes I formed my plan to rescue her. I reported to my commanding officer that a party of French had gone to the de St. Maur manor house up the river, and showed Zeb, who was a well-known scout and spy, as proof that my information was correct. I asked leave to take Zeb and some rangers and cut off the French. As this was directly in line with our policy, the leave was granted instantly, and we set off without delay.

I was able to procure but a dozen men on such hurried notice, but I trusted that they would prove sufficient. They were a good, sound, hardy lot, nine New Englanders and three New Yorkers, all dressed in green to match the foliage of the forests, though the splashes of brown in the leaves were now increasing fast. In addition, there was Zeb, who was often worth a detachment, and myself, making fourteen in all. It was not likely that Savaignan had a large party, and I thought we would be able to take care of both him and his men if we arrived in time. If in time was what alarmed me. But Zeb had left Quebec with his letters only that morning, and I was hopeful.

We were lucky enough to get passage on one of our ships which was preparing at that very moment to run the batteries and pass beyond the town, and with my little troop I embarked. I had seen this risky act done twice, but I had not taken part in it before. Nevertheless, we sailed past without any damage except some holes in our rigging, a smashed spar or two, and one sailor slightly wounded, though the French burned a deal of powder and fired many good cannon balls into the uncomplaining air.

We landed above the town beyond the French lines, the ship going no farther, and the rest of the journey we would be compelled to make on foot. But this we did not dread, as men who are accustomed to forests learn to walk with the speed and endurance almost of horses. Moreover, my men were well provided with zeal, for I held before them the possibility of some rich plunder, always a temptation to rangers. I thought that for the sake of Louise’s safety I might be pardoned the confiscation of a few articles at the chateau.

The sun was setting, but we pressed on at speed, sometimes in the forests and sometimes in the open. Despite our haste, we kept a good watch and guarded against surprise—a most useful precaution, for we might at any moment encounter a band of French or Indians. I had taken careful note of the way when I returned from the manor house with Father Michel, and I recognized several landmarks. So I felt easy on that point, and our rapid progress made me very hopeful.

The chief of my rangers, excepting Zeb Crane, of course, was that very Ephraim Cook, the New Hampshire man, who had used my shoulder when in the boat as a rest for his rifle. By his advice and Zeb’s, we stopped just after dark and ate heartily of our rations. Then we resumed our journey. The coolness of the night was very favorable to walking, and we made admirable time. Twice we passed ruined and deserted farmhouses. So far as we could see in the moonlight and in our hurried passage, they had been stripped clean. Not even a chicken was left to pick worms in the deserted fields.

But oftener we were in the woods. Here we dropped naturally into the Indian mode of walking in single file, Zeb or Cook or myself by turns leading. We were so silent that we were like a procession of ghosts passing through the forest, and we made but little more noise. Shortly after midnight we stopped to eat and rest a little more, for in case of a skirmish or other encounter at the house we would need all our strength. Then we resumed our ghostly procession. I was not so well trained to such business as the others, but I had more at stake, and that fact kept me on an equality of strength with them.

It was scarcely possible for us to go wrong in the night. I knew the house was near the river, and to that we could always come back. There was the road along which Father Michel and I had driven, but it did not follow a direct enough course for us.

Midnight came and then the small hours, which are so long. Trees and rocks assumed the ghostly quality which two or three o’clock in the morning imparts. A sharp chill was in the air, but our vigorous walking kept us warm. The daylight was at hand when I saw a strip of roof appearing above a low hill. I knew that strip of roof belonged to the seigneur’s barn, for I had noticed it when Father Michel and I came away. I encouraged my men with the news that we had almost reached our destination, and we hurried toward the lower hill. When we reached its crest we saw the indistinct mass of the manor house in an opening beyond. A thin and lazy coil of smoke arose, and in the gray light of the early dawn the place appeared to be peaceful and sleeping. In a small inclosure stood a spotted cow looking at us with calm eyes. Nowhere was there a sign of disturbance, and my spirits went away up, for I was sure that we had arrived in time.

The manor house was a square, massive structure of hewn logs, much like the blockhouses on our own frontier, and, as I have noted before, used in the beginning for the same purpose. In those early days the woods had been cleared away beyond rifle shot of the house, that they might not offer ambush to enemies, but they had since grown up somewhat. A half dozen low outhouses were scattered about in helter-skelter fashion. We stood for a few moments on the hill. I was studying how I should reward my little army, which I had promised plunder. I changed my mind about the latter, and decided that I would pay them out of my own pocket, which was tolerably well filled with English gold. I gave the word to advance, and forward we went.

We were winding our way through the new growth of forest, which as yet consisted but of saplings, when I jumped almost a foot high at the report of a rifle from the other side of the house. A bullet giving out its alarming little hiss passed directly between Zeb Crane and me and imbedded itself with a spat in the trunk of a sapling. The discharge of the rifle was followed in a second by another, and one of my men lost a nice little patch from the shoulder of his green coat.

Men trained like mine know what to do in such a case, and in about five seconds my army had whirled about and concealed itself in the most approved fashion in the woods or thickets. Two more shots while this brief operation was in progress hastened our retirement. I saw some smoke rising from the woods on the other side of the cleared ground which assured me that the shots had come from that point and not from the house, as I had at first thought. Both Zeb and Eph were near me, and when I appealed to them for an explanation of this ambush they agreed with a quickness and unanimity that showed they must be right.

“It’s as simple as fallin’ off a log,” said Zeb. “Savaignan and his crowd got here at the same time we did, only they came up on the other side of the clearin’. They saw us first, and plunked away at us.”

These seemed to me to be the facts of the case, and I built my plans upon them. After their sudden volley the French were quiet, lying hidden in their own patch of woods. The smoke from their shots drifted above the treetops and was dissipated in the growing light of the dawn. We could not see a rifle barrel or the comer of a garment. The French had concealed themselves with the address of the savages whose acts they have learned to practice so well.

Nobody seemed to be astir in the house. Its inmates apparently slumbered on, which could well be a fact, for unless some one was on guard it would take the report of a little cannon to penetrate those foot-thick log walls and reach sleepy ears. The roof was of red tiles, and the beams of the rising sun struck upon it, glanced away, and cast red splotches on the leaves of the adjacent forest. The lazy coil of smoke rising from a fire left overnight drifted away with the light wind. The spotted cow, aroused by the shots, came down to the end of her lot and looked through the bars with reproachful eyes.

I laid my plan before Zeb and Eph; it was to enter the house as quickly as possible and then beat off Savaignan and his party.

“But how are you goin’ to get in?” asked Zeb. “They’re all sound asleep in the house. The door yonder is closed and barred. While we’re tryin’ to beat it in or to wake ’em up or before they can open it the French can pick us off as easy as shootin’ at a mark.”

I was forced to admit that Zeb had put the matter right. We would have to contrive some method of awakening the people in the house without exposing ourselves to the French fire. I sent out three or four skirmishers to protect our own party from attack while we were deliberating, and then we three, Zeb, Eph, and I, set about our task, which was none so easy.

We thought at first of making a direct attack upon Savaignan, but in forest warfare the chief danger is in the offensive. Moreover, we did not know the strength of the French party. Our doubts were resolved for us by an untoward event; I say untoward, but perhaps, after all, it was fortunate.

The big oaken door of the manor house was opened and a face and figure appeared. It was the face and figure of old Pierre, the seigneur’s loyal follower. He stood there a few seconds looking out, and some one in the French part of the woods fired a rifle. It was intended that the bullet should be Pierre’s. It struck the facing of the doorway, causing some splinters to fly. Pierre was no fool, and proved it. He jumped back with a quickness worthy of a man thirty years younger, and we heard the bang of the heavy door as it was slammed.

I could not understand why the French had fired at Pierre, unless it was because Savaignan thought the old fellow was in the way of his plans. It would be easy enough for an unscrupulous man to invent some plausible excuse for Pierre’s taking off. But the shot was unfortunate for us, as Pierre would be sure to think it was some English raiding party and not his countrymen who had fired upon him.

“They’ll be on guard in the house,” said Cook. “It’s that much gained at least,” “Perhaps Mlle. de St. Maur will come out to treat with the invaders,” I said. I had confided all the secrets of the expedition to Cook, who was a trusty man.

“In that case she’ll have two parties of invaders instead of one to treat with, and maybe we can make the better treaty,” said Cook.

This was true. Our chance for a treaty was certainly as good as Savaignan’s, and, if I knew Louise as I thought I did, perhaps a good deal better. But I was in great anxiety lest she should be exposed to a shot intended for some other. In five minutes the door was opened again and Louise herself appeared there. I intended to rise up and shout a caution to her, but Cook dragged me back.

“Keep still, lieutenant!” he said. “They are bound to see who it is, and they won’t shoot.”

I saw that he was right and remained quiet. Louise stood in the doorway gazing at the woods. I was too far away to perceive the look of wonder which must have been on her face when she saw nothing but the peaceful woods and the dawn of a bright day.

She stood there looking about, apparently confident that her womanhood would protect her from such shots as had been aimed at Pierre. Then I saw some one emerge from the French part of the woods and walk toward her. It was Savaignan. He seemed to trust that the apparently peaceful nature of his errand would cause us to withhold our fire. Nor was the man deficient in bravery, as his coming to New York as a spy showed.

I took my resolution at once. Bidding Cook to keep the men quiet and watch us, I also sprang up and walked toward the house. Savaignan may have been surprised at my imitation of his proceeding, but he kept his countenance. Louise was bewildered, and she did not seek to conceal it. She stared at one and then at the other as we approached from opposite directions. She gave me a warm smile, which, I believe, would have been warmer had it not been for the presence of Savaignan. I took a look at the woods from which Savaignan had come, but could see nothing of his comrades.

“I wish you a happy morning, Mlle. de St. Maur; you appear with the dawn and are as bright,” I said in the courtliest manner I could muster. We talked in a rather lofty fashion in those days. I had determined that I would act as if I were in a drawing-room as long as peace was preserved.

“I am glad to see so gallant and generous an enemy as you. Lieutenant Charteris,” she said, smiling at me very brightly and giving me her hand.

This was poison to Savaignan, but he was not wanting in readiness. He, too, made the compliments of the morning, and in a high-flown French way likened the appearance of Mlle. de St. Maur to that of the sun which dimmed all else.

“Some one fired at my servant Pierre as he opened the door and missed him but a trifle,” said Louise. “Do you know who was guilty of the crime. Captain Savaignan?”

“Certainly, mademoiselle,” said Savaignan, with the bow of a courtier and the face of the father of lies. “Hidden in the woods yonder is a party of English robbers come upon their favorite pursuit of pillage. When Pierre opened the door one of them fired at him, and they would have murdered all of you had I not fortunately arrived just in time. Mademoiselle, I beseech you to commit yourself to our protection at once.”

The precious scoundrel said it with a good face, and Louise looked reproachfully at me. I saw that I must be as ready as Savaignan.

“Mlle. de St. Maur,” I said, “I am sorry to contradict Captain Savaignan in your presence, but it was one of his men, not mine, who fired at Pierre, and it is we who will save this house and its inmates from pillage and murder. The Frenchmen in the woods out there are a band of robbers and cutthroats, not regular soldiers. Mademoiselle, I beseech you to commit yourself to our protection at once.”

Savaignan glanced at me. I edged around a bit, putting a corner of the house between me and his hidden marksmen. But I do not think I was in much danger of a shot. If any of the French had fired at me, my men would have brought down Savaignan at once, and he knew it, and his men knew it too.

“You do not seem to agree upon an important point, gentlemen,” said Louise.

“I am a Frenchman, your countryman, and your betrothed. You can not go, mademoiselle, with the English, the enemies of your father and yourself,” said Savaignan, putting his hand upon his heart in a manner smacking of the theater.

“Mademoiselle,” I said earnestly, “do not trust yourself in this man’s hands. He is a villain, and he has come here for no good purpose.”

I knew that Louise believed me, but I saw also the reason why she was in a quandary. Savaignan was a French officer, ostensibly in good standing, and she could not favor the English while he and his countrymen were present. She took the middle course.

“This is a peaceful house, occupied by noncombatants,” she said, “and I will not admit either of you.—Close the door, Marie!”

I saw the maid standing behind her, and when Louise stepped back the quick little Marie slammed the door and threw the heavy bar into place, as I could very well hear. But time enough had been left Louise to give me a quick glance of entreaty, which said as plain as speech, “Get out of danger at once.”

That I proceeded to do, recognizing its necessity.

“Good-by, Savaignan!” I shouted, and I skipped off toward my own men. In my rapid flight I noticed that he was making a similar retreat toward his own quarter of the wood. One shot was fired at me, but a flying target at a good distance is hard to hit, and I reached the woods in safety. The shot was a signal for one to be sent after Savaignan, but he, too, was untouched, and in a minute previous conditions were restored—that is, the house was closed and locked on the noncombatants, and outside English and French were face to face, each keeping the other from his object.

It was a puzzling position, and I think Solomon himself would have found difficulty in telling us the right thing to do. I distrusted that old scamp Pierre. I feared that he would communicate with the French in some manner and let them into the house. That Louise herself would do so I never believed for a moment.

“It looks as if the girl intended to hold the house herself, don’t it, captain? What do you intend to do?” asked Cook when I rejoined my men.

“The French will lay siege to the house,” I said. “We must beat them and then take the place.”

My men were quite willing to undertake the job. War was their trade for the time. Moreover, in common with all the remainder of our army, they were smarting under the defeat at Montmorency, which the French rubbed into us by sending us insulting messages and sarcastic invitations to attack again.

Zeb did a little scouting, and returned with information that the French were about as numerous as ourselves, and that they had began to edge up as if they meant to attack us. I suggested that we move around the circuit in the same direction and attack them from the rear, where we would most likely have the advantage of a surprise. This plan commended itself to Zeb and Cook, and we proceeded to put it into action.

The woods formed a complete circle around the house, near at some points and distant at others. The trunks were sufficiently numerous and the foliage dense enough to conceal us, and we stepped with great caution to avoid noise. Cook and two others covered our rear, in order to keep us from being the overtaken and surprised party. Thus we proceeded, Zeb Crane leading, myself and the majority of the men following.

It was full day now, the sun having risen above the treetops, and was very bright. But it was a dense forest. The seigneur certainly would never have allowed it to grow up in this manner had he contemplated such a thing as a siege of his house.

►   ▲