French and English: A Story of the Struggle in America Read online

  Chapter 3: The Life Of Adventure.

  "I have seen him once, and he has escaped me. But we shall meetagain, and then the hour of vengeance will have come!"

  This was the burden of Charles's words as he lay in his narrowquarters in the Rangers' huts just without Fort William Henry,tended by his comrades till his wound healed. The fever which sooften follows upon loss of blood had him in its grip for awhile,and he would lie and mutter for hours in a state of semi-delirium.

  The sympathy of his comrades for this strange man with the tragicstory was deep and widespread. Charles had become a favourite andan object of interest throughout the ranks of the Rangers, andgreat excitement prevailed when it was understood that he hadreally seen the man--the Frenchman--who had stood by to see hiswife and family massacred, and had deliberately designed to leavehim, cruelly pinioned, to die a lingering death of agony in theheart of the lonely forest.

  Every day he had visitors to his sickbed, and again and again hetold the tale, described his foe, and told how he knew that the manrecognized him, first taking him--or so he believed--for a spectrefrom the tomb, afterwards filled with the most lively terror as herealized that he was pursued by one who had such dire cause forbitter vengeance.

  "We have met twice!" Charles would say, between his shut teeth."Once I was at his mercy, and he showed none. The second time hefled before me as a man flees from death and hell. The third timewe meet--and meet we shall--it will be that the Lord has deliveredhim into my hand. I will strike, and spare not. It will be the hourappointed of Heaven!"

  With the lengthening days and the approach of spring the life ofthe Rangers became less full of hardship, though not less full ofadventure. Snowshoes and skates were laid aside, and the menstarted to construct boats and canoes in which they soon began toskim the surface of the lake; scouting here, there, and all over,and bringing back news of the enemy's movements and strength evenwhen no capture of prisoners rewarded their efforts.

  Rogers had taken a great liking to John Stark and his followers. Hedubbed Stark his lieutenant, and Fritz and Stark were inseparablecompanions by this time. Charles attached himself to no person inparticular, but was the friend of all; pitied and respected for hismisfortunes, allowed to come and go much as he would; regardedrather as one set aside by Heaven for an instrument of vengeance;standing alone, as it were, not quite like any of his comrades; adreamy, solitary creature, seldom talking much, often passing thewhole day in silent brooding; yet when there was fighting to bedone, waking up to a sort of Berserker fury, dealing blows with analmost superhuman strength, and invariably filling the hearts ofhis adversaries with a species of superstitious fear and dread.

  For the tall, gaunt figure with the haggard face, flaming eyes, andwildly-floating locks bore so weird an aspect that a man might bepardoned for regarding it as an apparition. Not a particle ofcolour remained in Charles's face. The flesh had shrunk away tillthe bones stood out almost like skin stretched over a skull. Thehair, too, was white as snow, whilst the brows were coal black,enhancing the effect of the luminous, fiery eyes beneath. It wassmall wonder that Charles was regarded by Rangers and soldiersalike as a thing apart. He came and went as he would, no maninterfering or asking him questions.

  At the same time he seemed to regard Fritz and Stark as his chieffriends; and if they started forth with any of the Rangers, it wasgenerally observed that Charles would be of the company.

  The life of the forest was pleasant enough in the warmer weather;but the garrison at the fort were anxious to know what orders theywould receive for the summer campaign, and so far nothing was heardbut that they were to remain on the defensive. This might beprudent, seeing that Ticonderoga was< strongly fortified andgarrisoned; but it pleased neither soldiers nor officers, and theRangers went scouting more and more eagerly, hoping to learn newswhich might tempt those in authority to sanction some more overtmovement.

  One day a strange adventure befell the Rangers. Rogers and hislittle flotilla of boats were here, there, and everywhere upon thelake. Not only did they move up and down Lake George, which wasdebatable ground, commanded at the different ends by a French andEnglish fort, but they carried boats across a mountain gorge to theeastward, launched them again in South Bay, and rowed down thenarrow prolongation of Lake Champlain, and under cover of darknights would glide with muffled oars beneath the very guns ofTiconderoga, within hearing of the sentries' challenge to eachother, and so on to Crown Point, whence they could watch themovements of the enemy, and see their transports passing to and frowith provisions for Ticonderoga.

  Many a small boat was seized, many a large one sunk by these hardyRangers of the forest. They were as wily as Indians, and as suddenand secret in their movements. The French regarded them with aspecies of awe and fear. They would sometimes find an English boator canoe in some spot perfectly inexplicable to them. They couldnot believe that anyone could pass the fortifications ofTiconderoga unseen and unheard, and would start the wildesthypotheses to account for the phenomenon, even to believing thatsome waterway existed which was unknown alike to them and theirIndian scouts.

  But to return to the adventure to which allusion has been made.

  Rogers with some thirty of his Rangers was out upon one of thosedaring adventures. They were encamped within a mile of Ticonderoga.Their boats were lying in a little wooded creek which gave accessto the lake. Some of the party, headed by Rogers, had gone ontowards Crown Point by night. Stark, with a handful of trusty men,lay in hiding, watching the movements from the fort, and keeping awary eye upon those who came and went, ready to pounce out upon anystraggler who should adventure himself unawares into the forest,and carry him off captive to the English camp.

  Certain tidings as to the course the campaign was likely to takewere urgently wanted by this time. The posts to the English fortbrought in no news save that it was thought better for the army onthe western frontier to remain upon the defensive, and no talk ofsending large reinforcements came to cheer or encourage them.Winslow was impatient and resentful. He thought there weremismanagement and lack of energy. He knew that the provinces hadbeen roused at last out of their lethargy, and had pledgedthemselves to some active effort to check French aggression; yetweeks were slipping by, one after the other, and no help of anyconsequence came to the army on the outskirts. No command reachedthe eager soldiers for a blow to be struck there, as had beenconfidently expected.

  Perhaps the French might be better informed as to what was going onin other parts of the great continent, and so prisoners were wantedmore urgently than ever.

  At midday upon a steamy midsummer day, one of the young Rangers whohad been wandering about near to the camp in search of game cameback with cautious haste to report that he had seen a small partyof French leaving the fort by the water gate, cross the narrowwaterway, and plunge into the forest. He had observed the directiontaken, and thought they could easily surround and cut them off. Hedid not think there were more than six in the party; probably theywere out hunting, unconscious of the proximity of any foe.

  Stark was on his feet in a second. This was just the chance for theRangers. Seizing their arms and hastily conferring together, theylaid their plans, and then divided themselves into three companiesof three, planning to fetch a circuit, keep under cover, and thussurround the little company, who would believe themselves entirelyovermatched, and some of whom would surrender at discretion, ifthey did not all do so.

  Stark, Fritz, and Charles remained together, taking a certain pathas agreed upon. They crept like Indians through the wood. Hardlythe breaking of a branch betrayed their movements. In Charles'seyes the slumbering fire leaped into life. He always lived in thehope of again meeting his foe face to face. He knew that he wasprobably within the walls of Ticonderoga. Any day might bring themface to face once more.

  Softly and cautiously they crept through the brushwood. Stark hadmade a sign of extra caution, for some nameless instinct seemed tohave told him that they were near the quarry now. He paused amoment, held up his ha
nd as if in warning; and at that instantthere suddenly arose from the heart of the wood the unwonted soundof a sweet, fresh girl's voice raised in a little French song!

  The men looked at one another in amaze. Were their ears deceivingthem? But no; the trilling notes came nearer. Involuntarily theypressed forward a few paces, and then came to a dead stop. What wasit they saw?

  A maiden, a young girl of perhaps seventeen summers, her hatsuspended by a broad ribbon from her arm, and half filled withflowers, was wandering through the woodland tracks as quietly asthough in her sheltered home across the water. As she moved shesang snatches of song in a clear, bird-like voice; and when hereyes suddenly fell upon the three strange figures in the path,there was no fear in their violet depths, only a sort of startledbewilderment, instantly followed by an eagerness that there was nomistaking.

  "Oh," she exclaimed eagerly, in accents which denoted almostunmixed pleasure, and speaking English with only a very slightintonation denoting her mixed nationality, "I am sure that I havemy wish at last! You are Rogers' Rangers!"

  Stark and Fritz had doffed their hats in a moment. They were morenonplussed a great deal than this fearless maiden, who looked likethe goddess of the glade, secure in her right of possession. Hereyes were dancing with glee; her mouth had curved to a delicioussmile of triumph.

  "I have been longing to see the Rangers ever since I arrived atTiconderoga; but they declared they were terrible fire-eating men,worse than the wild Indians, and that they would kill me if Iadventured myself near to them--kill me or carry me away captive.But I said 'No!'" (and the girl threw back her head in a gesture ofpride and scorn); "I said that the Rangers were Englishmen--Englishgentlemen, many of them--and that they did not war with women! Iwas not afraid; I knew they would not lay a finger upon me.

  "I am not wrong, am I, sirs? You would not hurt a maiden who trustsyour chivalry and honour?"

  "I would slay the first man who dared so much as to lay a fingerupon you, lady," answered Stark impetuously, "even though he weremy own comrade or brother! We are Rogers' Rangers, as you haverightly guessed; and we are here scouting round Fort Ticonderoga,ready to intercept its inmates when we may catch them. But you areright: we war not with women; we fight with men who can fight usback.

  "But tell us, fair lady, how comes it that you are here alone inthe forest? It is scarce safe in these troubled times of warfare,with Indians all around, and rude soldiers prowling the woods andlurking in its fastnesses."

  "Ah, but my escort is close at hand. I did but stray away a littlein search of flowers. They said the forest was free from periltoday. The Indians have gone off yonder on some enterprise of theirown, and the English are lying within their lines far enough away.I begged and prayed, and at last they gave way. My brother and themen are after a fine young deer they sighted. I bid them leave me.I was not afraid. I thought the worst that could happen would bethat I came face to face with a party of Rangers, and that wasexactly what I have longed to do ever since I arrived."

  The girl looked up smiling into the faces of the bronzed, stalwartmen standing before her; then she seated herself upon a fallen treeand motioned them to be seated likewise.

  "I want to talk," she said; "let us sit down and be sociable. Idaresay they will be some time in killing their quarry. We willenjoy ourselves till they come back. They shall not hurt you; Iwill ensure that."

  Stark smiled a little at the girl's assurance.

  "More likely they may suffer at our hands, lady. There are more ofus scattered about the forest. But our aim is not to slay, but toobtain prisoners who shall give us news; so you need not fear thatharm will befall your brother--least of all if he speaks theEnglish tongue as you do. If I might make bold to ask you ofyourself, how comes it that an English girl is in such a wild spotas this, and amid the soldiers of France?"

  "I am not English," answered the maiden, with a smile; "I am Frenchupon my father's side, and my mother was a Scotchwoman. I havelived in Scotland, where I learned your tongue; and I always spokeit with my mother so long as she lived. It is as easy to me as myfather's French."

  "And how come you to this wild spot in the heart of these forests,and with warfare all around?"

  "I will tell you that, too. My father has always been a man ofaction, who has loved travel and adventure. Since the outbreak ofthis war in the west he has longed to be in the midst of it. He issomething of a soldier, and something of a statesman, and he is thefriend of many great ones at Court, and has been entrusted beforenow with missions requiring skill and tact. He is also the kinsmanof the Marquis of Montcalm, whose name no doubt you know by thistime."

  "He is the new military commander sent out by the King of France,to take the lead in the war now commenced in Canada and along theborder between France and England," answered Stark promptly.

  "Yes; and my father and uncle came out with him, and my brother andI also. My uncle is the good Abbe Messonnier; but you will not haveheard of him, though he is well known and well beloved in France.My father has certain work to do here the nature of which I do notfully know, nor could I divulge if I did. We arrived at Quebec ashort time ago, and thence we moved on to Montreal. But it wasneedful for my father and uncle to visit some of these outposts,and we begged, Colin and I, not to be left behind. We burned withcuriosity to see the strange sights of which we had heard--theIndians in their war paint, the great forests and lakes, the fortsand their garrisons, and all the wonders of the west.

  "So they brought us in their company. My father takes me everywherewith him that he can. Since my mother's death he seems unable tolose sight of me. We have been hard upon a month at the fort now.We are learning all we can of the condition of affairs, to reportto the Marquis when we return to Montreal or to Quebec. He himselftalks of coming to command here when the time comes for the attackto be made upon your fort; but that will scarcely be yet, for thereis so much he has to set in order in Canada. Oh, the way things aremanaged there--it is a disgrace!"

  "Is Canada weak then?" asked Stark, burning with curiosity forinformation on the subject.

  The girl slowly shook her head.

  "Perhaps I ought not to talk with you, since you are the enemies ofmy countrymen. And, in sooth, I know little enough to tell. I hearone say this and one the other, and I cannot know where the truthlies. But of one thing they are very certain and confident--thatthey will drive out the English from all these western outposts,and will keep them shut in between the mountains and the sea; andthat France alone shall rule this mighty continent of giant forestsand rivers, undisturbed by any foreign foe. Of that all men areconfident."

  The Rangers exchanged glances, and the girl saw it.

  "You do not believe me," she said quickly; "but, indeed, I haveheard so many strange things that I know not what to believemyself. Strangest of all is that white men should call upon thoseterrible savage Indians to war with them against their whitebrethren. That, as my good uncle says, is a disgrace to humanity.Ah! I would you could have heard him speak to the officers atyonder fort since his arrival there. They brought in a fewprisoners a few days after we came. They were going to cook and eatthem--to treat them--oh, I cannot think of it! My uncle went to theofficers, and bid them interfere; but they only shrugged theirshoulders, and said they must not anger the Indians, or they woulddesert, and become even more troublesome than they are already. Hegot them out of their hands himself, and sent them safely toMontreal; and oh, how he spoke to the French soldiers and officersafterwards! He said that such wicked disregard of the bond betwixtChristian and Christian must inevitably draw down the wrath ofHeaven upon those who practised it, and that no cause could prosperwhere such things were permitted.

  "I have heard things since I have been here that have filled myheart with sorrow and anger. I have been ashamed of my countrymen!I have felt that our foes are nobler than ourselves, and that Godmust surely arise and fight for them if these abominations aresuffered to continue."

  The Rangers were silent; they well knew what she meant. The Fre
nchwere culpably weak where the Indians were concerned, permittingthem almost without remonstrance to burn their prisoners from theEnglish lines, and even after engagements leaving the English deadand wounded to the Indians and the wolves, though the Englishalways buried the French dead with their own when they had been inlike circumstances, and had showed kindness to their wounded.

  "The Indians are the plague of the lives of men and officersalike," continued the girl, breaking forth in animated fashion."They eat up a week's rations in three days, and come clamouringfor more. They make rules for the English which they will notobserve themselves. They are insolent and disgusting andtreacherous. Oh, I cannot think how our people bear it! I wouldsooner lose all than win through using such tools. I hate to thinkof victory obtained by such means. You Rangers are brave men;though men dread you, yet they respect you, and would fain imitateyour prowess. The Indians are devils--I can find no other name forthem. They are fiends, and I verily think that evil will befall usif we league ourselves with them. Thus my uncle tries to teach; butthey will not listen to his words."

  "Time will show, lady," answered Fritz; "and there are Indians whoare gentle and tamable, and are some of them even sincere believersin our Christian faith. I have seen and lived among such in thelands of the south. But here they have been corrupted by the vicesof those who should teach them better. It is a disgrace to Englandand France alike that this should be so."

  At this moment the sound of shouting and yelling arose from theforest, and some shots were fired in close succession. The girlstarted to her feet, looking white and scared; but Fritz and Starkstood close beside her, one on either hand, as if to assure herthat no harm should befall her.

  The next moment a fair-haired youth, with a strong likeness to thegirl, came dashing blindly through the forest, calling her name inaccents of frantic fear.

  "Corinne, Corinne, Corinne! Where are you? Hide yourself! Have acare! The Rangers are upon us!"

  "I am here, Colin. I am safe!" she cried, in her flute-likeaccents--"I am here all safe. The Rangers are taking care of me.See!"

  He pulled up short, blinded and breathless. He had come tearingback to his sister's aid, full of remorse at having been tempted toleave her for a moment in the pleasure of the chase. He stoodpanting, staring at the strange group, unable to get out a word.

  "Call the men in," said Stark, addressing Charles, who had remainedsilent all the while; "tell them to hurt no one--to make nocaptures. This lady's escort is to remain unmolested. Bring themhere, and we will deliver them their charge safe and sound."

  With alacrity Charles disappeared upon his errand. The oldtender-heartedness of the man always returned when he saw anythingyoung and helpless. There was no fierceness in his strange facetoday, and Corinne, looking after him, said wonderingly:

  "Who is he? he looks like one who has seen a ghost!"

  In a few terse phrases Fritz told the outline of Charles's story,and how he himself with his companion had found the hapless man andhis brother.

  "Oh, this war is a terrible thing!" cried Corinne, pressing herhands together. "It makes men into devils, I think. Ah, why can wenot live at peace and concord with our brothers? Surely out here,in these wild lands, French and English might join hands, and liveas brothers instead of foes."

  "I fear me," said Fritz, looking out before him with wide gaze,"that that time is far enough away--that it will never come untilthe kingdoms of this world have become the kingdom of our God andof His Christ, when He shall reign for ever and ever."

  She looked at him in quick surprise. She had not expected to hearsuch words in the mouth of one of Rogers' Rangers.

  "I have heard my uncle speak so," she said slowly; "but thesoldiers think of nothing but fighting and conquest."

  "We used to think much of that day down in my southern home. Wewere taught to look for the day of the Lord and the coming ofChrist. But men were even there growing weary and impatient. Thestrife of parties was spoiling our home. That is why so many of usjourneyed forth to see the world. But I do not forget what myforefathers taught and believed."

  There was a light of quick sympathy in the girl's eyes; but she hadno time to reply, for the Rangers were coming back, with the Frenchsoldiers in their company. They had surprised the whole band, andhad practically made them prisoners when Charles came up with hisstrange message, and they marched them along to see what it allmeant.

  Great was their astonishment when they saw the golden-haired girlwith her fearless bearing, and the handsome lad standing besideher, still breathless and bewildered.

  "Release these men," said Stark briefly; "they have been told offfor the service of this lady. Let them resume their charge, andreturn in safety to the fort, or continue their chase in the forestat pleasure. We do not war with women.

  "If you wish to see some pretty hunting, Mistress Corinne, Rogers'Rangers are at your service, and the haunts of bird and beast arewell known to us."

  The girl's eyes sparkled. She was as full of the love of adventureas any boy could be. She looked at her brother, but he shook hishead in doubt.

  "I think our father would not wish it," he said. "I thank thesegentlemen most gratefully for their courtesy and chivalry, but Ithink we must be returning to the fort. It may be that the shotswill have been heard, and that soldiers may be coming in search ofus already.

  "We shall not forget your kindness, sir. I trust the day will comewhen we may be able to requite you in kind;" and he held out hishand, first to Stark and then to Fritz.

  Corinne had looked a little mutinous at first; but when her brotherspoke of a possible sortie across the water from the fort, her facechanged. Perhaps she was not quite so confident of the chivalry ofthe French soldiers as she had been of that of the Rangers.

  "Perhaps it is best so; yet I should have loved to scour the forestwith Rogers' Rangers.

  "Are you the great Rogers himself?" she asked, turning to Stark,and then letting her glance wander to Fritz's fine face.

  "No, Mistress Corinne; Rogers himself is away farther afield,"answered Stark. "This is Fritz Neville, and I am John Stark, whomhe honours with the title of his lieutenant."

  "Fritz Neville--John Stark," she repeated, looking from one to theother, a smile in her frank, sweet eyes. "I shall not forget thosenames. I shall say them over every day to myself, and pray that intimes of warfare the saints will watch over and protect the braveEnglish Rangers, who had us as prisoners in their power, and let usgo away safe and sound."

  She held out her hand as she spoke, first to one and then to theother of the men, both of whom took it reverently, pressed it, andbowed low with a sort of rude homage. The other Rangers sent up alittle cheer for the brave young lady who spoke their tongue sowell; and the French soldiers, who looked a little ashamed of thepredicament in which they had placed themselves, smiled, and becamefriendly and at ease, realizing that all was well.

  "We will escort you to your boat, lady," said Stark; "you willsuffer us that privilege."

  "Ah yes, if it will be safe. But they will not dare fire from thefort when they see that our company is returning. I would I couldtake you back with me, and introduce you to my father and uncle;but perchance it would not be safe."

  "Perhaps we shall make their acquaintance some other way!" saidStark, with a touch of grim humour; and Corinne, understanding him,exclaimed:

  "Ah, do not let us think of that! let us only remember that we havemet as friends in the wild forest."

  "A pleasant memory truly," answered Stark gallantly, "and one sonew to a Ranger that he will never be like to forget it;" and asthey pursued their way towards the lake, he held the youth and thegirl spellbound and breathless by tales of the strange life ofadventure which they led, and by detailing some of theirhairbreadth escapes from the hands of Indians and Frenchmen as theyscoured the forest, lay in ambush, and skulked beneath the veryramparts of the enemy's fortifications, hearing the talk of thesentries overhead.

  "Nay, but you are brave men in sooth; you deserve succe
ss. Thefortunes of war must surely be yours at last," cried Corinne, withcovert enthusiasm.

  "Ah! here is the lake, and here is our boat. Nay, come not further.I fear lest hurt should come to you. I thank you again with all myheart. Perhaps the day will come when we shall see each otheragain. I would fain believe that I shall meet again with Rogers'bold, chivalrous Rangers."

  "It may be--it may be," answered Stark, with a smile. "Farewell,sweet Mistress Corinne; may you come safely through all perils byland and water. Your brave spirit will carry you well throughlife's troubled sea, I think."

  She smiled, and stepped into the boat. Then suddenly turning andwaving her hand, she said:

  "I will tell you one thing which my uncle has said. Whether he willbe a true prophet or no I cannot tell. His words are these, andthey were spoken to M. de Montcalm: 'You are safe now, for Englandis governed by an imbecile--the Duke of Newcastle--a ministerwithout parts, understanding, or courage. But there is another manin England of a different calibre. If ever you hear that Pitt is atthe head of the administration, then look to your laurels; for, ifI be not greatly deceived, that man has brain and energy to turnthe whole tide of battle. Three years after he begins to ruleEngland's policy, and France will have begun to lose her empire inthe West!'"