The sergeant of Fort Toronto

II

. C R LLNER

"I AM WAITING, McLEOD"

THE SERGEANT OF
FORT TORONTO

BY

GEORGE F. MILLNER

ILLUSTRATED BY

SEARS GALLAGHER

TORONTO :
THE COPP, CLARK COMPANY, LIMITED

Copyright, Canada, 1914, by TUB COPP, CLARK COMPANY, LIMITED,
Toronto, Ontario.

The Copp, Clark Press.

PREFATORY NOTE

FEW people read the preface of any book, however great
the writer, but, from courtesy to his authorities, the
author will follow the example of his literary masters,
though the brief description of the historical characters and the
historic scenes herewith described may be neglected by the
reader in search of romance.

Fort Toronto was originally named Fort Rouille. . . . Fort
Rouille was founded by the Marquis de Galissioniere, the act-
ing Governor of New France, as a trading post, where business
might be encouraged with the Indians, and to oppose that
hated Fort Choueguen established by the British just across
the lake. Perhaps, he also sought to impress them, fierce and
haughty, by this military occupation of a far-flung outpost,
with the prouder, haughtier majesty of the Old France he
served. The men who move within the covers of this book,
are for the most part, real men. . . . The Reverend Abbe Pic-
quet, Doctor of the Sorbonne, King's Messenger and Prefect
Apostolic of all New France, was, as may be gathered from his
titles, a most important personage. He founded the mission of
La Presentation at Oswegatchie, now Ogdensburg, and many
other such missionary institutions, in which he sought to subdue
the untamable Iroquois, by other methods than that of cold
steel. He visited Fort Toronto, though always opposed to its
existence as a rival to Fort Niagara, some thirty-three miles
distant across Lake Ontario. He exerted immense influence
among the savages with whom he labored. So great that influ-
ence, the Marquis du Quesne used to say, the Abbe Picquet
was worth ten regiments to New France. His activity was so
great, especially among the Six Nations, that even during his
lifetime he was complimented with the title " Apostle to the
Iroquois." He lived only for New France. Then, at the fall
of the French Power, he was forced to retire to the Sorbonne.
There, he may have died in the odor of sanctity, but it is cer-

PREFATORY NOTE

tainly safe to assume that while he lived, an ever-abiding regret
was his, New France became the Canada of the victorious
British. . . . The Comte de Laudonniere figures prominently
in history. His venture south with Ribault, to the Spanish
Main, was a dismal failure. He retired to England to live
and end his days. . . . Wabacommegat, Chief of the Missas-
sagas, is mentioned as follows, " This day, Wabacommegat,
came to speak to me (Norman McLeod), but was so drunk
that no one could understand him.". . . As this extract is taken
from "The Documentary History of New York," dated July
17 (1767), at the time of British occupation, and the Abbe
paid a visit to Fort Toronto in 1751, where he soundly rated
the Missassagas for their intemperance, there is ground for sup-
posing that the lessons their Chief Wabacommegat had com-
menced under French rule, were carried on under British
domination. . . . Senascot, his son, was also a real man. But
whether he dare oppose his father and chief in the manner here-
with described is open to consideration. . . . Norman McLeod
lived and had his being as an Indian Agent. He it was who
in real life wrote the words quoted above. . . . Jacques Birnon,
the grandfather of the romantic hero, was a Hugenot trader to
New France, rich, powerful, and under the protection of Louis,
to whom he is supposed to have loaned many a never-returned
franc. What less likely that such a man should have had one
grandson who desired to travel and see the world? . . . Ser-
geant Pere, it is true, is a creature of the imagination ; but his
prototype existed by the hundred among the soldiers of his mas-
ter. . . . Captain de Celeron was an officer stationed at Fort
Niagara. Not unreasonable to suppose he was detailed for a
tiresome duty in his turn, to command the fifteen soldiers who
formed the guard at lonely Fort Toronto. . . . From historical
accounts, soldiers were hard to procure. " All sorts and condi-
tions of men " took shelter from a life of error within their
ranks. Why not a Corporal Peche to obtain the large bounty
granted to each and every recruit? ... As to the women!
They, in those rigorous days, were few and far between. And
Madeline McLeod is of the same thin web as her ancient
lover. . . . Rose of the Hills, too, moved only on these pages.
Though many an Indian drudge may have cast longing eyes on
the white men, and in the comparing of a brutal lord and
master, raised one soldier to an undue elevation.

PREFATORY NOTE

Fort Toronto existed, was destroyed by fire at the hands of
the French. Real men planted corn, and perhaps, made wine,
with which to solace the lonely hours. But it is to be very
much doubted, if anyone of those soldiers — not even the far-
sighted Abbe — ever1 supposed for one solitary moment, that
tiny Fort Toronto would one day become great TORONTO, the
Queen City of the West.

To Scaddings' " Toronto of Old " ; " The Documentary His-
tory of New York " ; and " Kingsford's History of Canada,"
the author is greatly indebted. To W. F. Metcalf, Esq., he is
under obligation for many a French translation. To William
Copp, Esq., the writer is also indebted. Without his interest,
" The Sergeant of Fort Toronto," would, perhaps, have for-
ever reposed in the desk of

THE AUTHOR.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I A GIRL DISCOVERS A MAN n

II THE MAN DISCOVERS HIMSELF, TO LOSE HIMSELF AGAIN 23

III FRENCH HOSPITALITY 32

IV MAIDEN METHODS 42

V THE SERGEANT ALSO DISCOVERS A MAN 51

VI How CAPTAIN DE CELERON SOUGHT CONSOLATION . . 59

VII How A MAID DARED MUCH FOR A MAN 68

VIII CAPTAIN DE CELERON FINDS ONE MAN TOO MUCH FOR

HIM 77

IX Two SAVE ANOTHER WHO HAS DONE ONE MUCH INJURY 83

X ROSE OF THE HILLS ALSO DISCOVERS A MAN .... 93

XI How FRANCIS BIRNON WAS TEMPTED TO STEAL . . . 100

XII How A SECRETARY SOUGHT SUSTENANCE, AND How HE

SUFFERED 109

XIII How EIGHT DESERTERS CAME TO DRINK 117

XIV SERGEANT PERE MEETS FEAR! 128

XV THE ABBE HEARS A TRUTHFUL (?) MAN 140

XVI How ONE SOLDIER RECOVERED SEVEN 150

XVII SERGEANT PERE TELLS SECRETS 163

XVIII How A DOCTOR DEPRIVED A MAN OF His SPIRITUAL COM-
FORTS 175

XIX How A DUMB MAN RECOVERED SPEECH 186

XX WHY CAPTAIN DE CELERON SAVED THE MAN HE HATED 205

XXI How AMBROSE DELIVERED A MAN FROM PRISON . . .218

XXII How AMBROSE WAS DELIVERED FROM A FURIOUS FEMALE 231

XXIII How CORPORAL PECHE ESSAYED THE ROLE OF HISTORIAN 245

XXIV How A PRIEST DEPARTED FROM FORT TORONTO, AND WHY

A STOREKEEPER DETERMINED TO FOLLOW .... 262

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

XXV How A HALF DEAD INDIAN RACED WITH DEATH . . . 274
XXVI A WEAK MAN DEFENDS A YET WEAKER WOMAN . . 286
XXVII How SERGEANT PERE BECAME POSSESSED OF ANOTHER

MAN'S TREASURE 296

XXVIII How A SERGEANT SOUGHT TO CARE FOR A NEW FOUND

WEALTH 306

XXIX ANCIENT HISTORY 320

XXX How PECHE USED His KNOWLEDGE 330

XXXI SERGEANT PERE LOSES His TREASURE 342

XXXII THE END 35*

ILLUSTRATIONS

"I AM WAITING, McLEoo" . Frontispiece

FACING
PAGE

THE MONUMENT IN THE EXHIBITION GROUNDS, TORONTO, WHICH
MARKS THE SITE OF THE OLD FRENCH FORT 12

"DRINK" '. 56

"GIVE SOME ACCOUNT OF YOURSELVES" 192

" NOW, HASTE, HASTE, IF HASTE END YOUR LIFE " 284

THE SERGEANT OF FORT
TORONTO

CHAPTER I

A GIRL DISCOVERS A MAN

WHERE thousands gather every year, within a league of
half a million souls, a slender granite shaft, set four-
square upon a rock-hewn base, points tapering to the skies, to
mark the lone spot where but a century and a half gone by
France with careful hands planted and tended her famous
" fleur-de-lis." Fair blossoms, destined to fade, to wither, and
to die, beneath the tread of a few brave feet. The vanguard
of a British occupation ; forerunners of those who populate the
fairest city of fair Canada.

Then the stockaded walls of French Fort Toronto rose on
a rising bluff of land overlooking the heaving wastes of Lake
Ontario. A tiny trading station, founded by His Excellency,
the Marquis de Galissionaire, Acting Administrator and Gov-
ernor of all New France, in the year of our Lord seventeen
hundred and forty-nine, that traffic with the Indians might be
encouraged for the benefit of his people.

A tiny clearing of but three hundred acres had been carved
from the forest miles. An ax-won spot of sweating toil and
arduous labor at the hands of brave and brawny men. A
space encroached on daily by leafy growths and spreading un-
derbrush. A solitude made more solitary by the presence of a
garrison consisting of but eighteen men and one lone woman;
sole defenders of the glorious prestige of Old France, who per-
haps remembered, but was just as likely to forget them in the
turmoil of her own more immediate pressing home affairs.

The leaves whispered of the sorry efforts of foolish soldiers
who tried to sweep giants from the earth, of their daylong la-

ii

is THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

bors to stay the advance of stripling pines, ever ready to spring
up, and hide the scars of their wounded forest mother. But
the wind, more ancient than the monster trees, knowing of what
man had done, could do, and might even yet perform, bade the
triflers hush their laughter, and whisper a warning to their
parents of a swiftly coming doom.

But the forest was in all its glory on this brilliant September
dawn. Beneath its shade lay Fort Toronto, a collection of a
few low log buildings, girdled by massive tree trunks, huddled
for shelter within their circling embrace. The night had been
stormy, tempestuous, and the lake had roared a loud displeas-
ure. The branches dripped moisture and the shingled roofs
gleamed a faint reflection of the rising sun.

Silence reigned, save for the stealthy stirring of some wild
creature in the underbrush. The huge gate was barred against
intruders, and but one lone sentry maintained a monotonous
promenade inside its heavy timbers.

Suddenly the air was split with the roar of a gun. The daily
salute to the sun. The thunderous rattle crashed back from
wooded walls, rolled out over the lake to die away in faint
mutterings of spent sound. An eddying smoke wreath hung
low over the stockade walls; a drum clattered continuously
for several moments. Then, above the pointed stakes rose the
proud banner of Old France, challenging to mortal combat any
venturesome enough to dispute her lawful supremacy at this,
her far-flung trading outpost.

Day, for the garrison, had just commenced.

The gate of the stockade was thrown wide and a young
girl emerged from its safety. Quickly she moved over the short
stubble of new garnered wheat lying between the lake and the
only home she knew. Straight as a young pine she walked.
A girl with oval face, olive complexioned, but clear-skinned as
the " Fameuse " apples of her own more famous countiy. Two
gray eyes were hers, within whose clear depths shone health, and
a happy nature. Her nose, fine chiseled, the nostrils expanded
to greet the perfume of dawn, was set above two red lips, a
rosebud made for caresses, given by one who should some day
appear and claim her consent to take them. And those lips
moved religiously in prayer as she hurried toward the blue-
black stretch of water, in search of her daily bath for a dainty
and well-cared-for person.

A GIRL DISCOVERS A MAN 13

She reached the shore, flung a backward glance at the Fort,
then with busy ringers commenced to throw off her homespun
garments. Suddenly a startled scream escaped her. She saw
a man extended full length upon the beach. A strange white
man ; an intruder on her favorite bathing place.

" Blessed Lady! " she exclaimed, hastily rebuttoning the col-
lar at her white throat. " I wonder who he may be? " One
moment she hesitated, frightened. The next found her slen-
der body stealing with moccasined feet toward the stranger,
lying with upturned features to the blue sky. Her ringers
sought a sign of life in the mottled, half-bare chest, and with
a shudder, she rose, pitying, wide eyes staring at a most un-
expected discovery. " I wonder, does he live? " she murmured,
half trembling in the silence.

The destitute uncomfort of the man appealed to her latent
mother instinct. She robbed herself of a warm woolen petti-
coat, laying the garment over his naked chest. Then, blush-
ing at the forwardness of her maiden action, she turned, climbed
the bank, and ran swiftly back toward the Fort.

" Father ! Father ! " she called, slipping past the startled
sentry, and passing through the dark-arched entry. " Quick,
I have discovered a man." And Norman McLeod, the store-
keeper of the Fort, hurried out to greet her.

" Discovered a what, child?" he said with a grim chuckle.
' 'Tis no new thing in this land, where none but men dare
venture, is it?" But his daughter, repeating her request, van-
ished through the gate, to leave him staring, wondering at her
hurry.

" Some new whim ! " he muttered half angrily, reaching for
a well-used musket. " Madeline ! " he called, following across
the sand, to break into a run after her speeding figure. " What
in the name of all the saints possesses her now?" he growled,
pounding heavily along. Then, he stood stock still, his mind
filled with alarm of it all being a ruse to surprise his home.

He was not in the best possible humor this fine morning.
Affairs of business had gone all wrong of late. Only last night
had he had hot words with his superior officer, Captain de
Celeron, the commander, regarding a matter of trade. A
youngster, despatched from Niagara, knowing little of trade, to
succeed, as the garrison openly hinted at, his own more able
authority.

THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

" And she must add to my troubles," he said angrily. " Who
can this fellow be?" Again he set off running, coming to
the bank edge above the shore, to see his daughter kneeling at
a stranger's side. "What new folly is this, Madeline?" he
asked harshly. " Who is he?"

" I do not know," she answered, without turning her head.
" Come ! assist me to drag him from the water. I do not think
he is dead — yet."

" I will have naught to do with him," came the curt answer.

" At least drag him from the water," she said quickly. " He
will die indeed, if we waste time in talk."

" Better die now than at the end of a rope," was the grim
retort from the father, turning to retrace his steps. But a
gentle hand caught his arm, a soft voice pleaded in his ear, and
his unwilling feet were led nearer the sparkling waters, croon-
ing a melody to silent ears. " He is quite dead," he said, with
evident relief, and the girl sighed, as she fell on her knees.

The storekeeper, with experienced eyes, was quick to note
British make on all the garments of the senseless man. With
a pang of pity, he observed the fine lines of his features; the
well-kept hands that even in a death-clutch closed on the gun-
wale of the battered birch-bark. Remembrance of old times —
old friends — stirred a kindly wish in his heart that the stranger
might indeed be dead. New France at the moment was cruel
to those of British inclination, cast destitute upon her shores.

" Better be dead from drowning than to swing at a rope's
end," he muttered, and his daughter, catching the words, spoke
almost impatiently.

" What has a rope to do with one well nigh — if not dead? "
she flashed out. " Come, drag him from the lake, I say — that
much at least."

But the father made no move. His officer hated the British
with right good will. He was ever haunted, and with good
cause, that the daring enemies of his country might steal in and
surprise a first independent command. The bare whisper of
an English name, sufficient to loose all his fury on the head of
the unfortunate voicing that detested sound. Norman Mc-
Leod knew his man. Was unwilling to add another brand to
the flames of enmity, lit recently, but rapidly making Fort
Toronto far too hot for comfort of himself and only daughter.
He stood silent, pondering the matter, gazing on the silent

/ho

A GIRL DISCOVERS A MAN 15

figure, whose soul seemed already to have passed the curtain
separating the living from the dead.

" Madeline," he said slowly, " let him lie. His clothes are
of British pattern — you know De Celeron."

" I care not one jot who he is," she said quickly. " Lift him
from the water, I say. Are you afraid ? " — and the father,
recognizing the folly of opposing a spoiled child, stooped to drag
roughly the man from the water. With no soft hand he de-
posited his burden beneath the overhanging bank.

" Now," he said, drying his hands on his homespun coat, " we
will return, and our little Captain will have something to say
about this."

" I wait here," she said shortly.

" The man is dead, girl. Come, we must return," and he
turned to go, confidently expecting obedience. For once he
was mistaken. His daughter, interested in the novel appear-
ance of a total stranger — to her mind, an event not to be
lightly passed over in this desolate place where new faces
rarely came — was determined to stay on the spot. She con-
tinued kneeling, wiping the foam from blue lips she feared
would never thank her for the trouble. The father, a jealous
twinge at his heart, scowled at her attention. Then he said
gruffly, " Come, girl, we must return." But she made no sign
of moving.

" He breathes ! " she exclaimed, her bosom heaving with ex-
citement of her desire to have the man live. " Summon as-
sistance, I say. He shall not be left untended to die the death
of a dog."

With a curse at her willfulness, likely to set the Fort in a
blaze of passion, he threw his musket on the ground, to fold
his arms across a brawny chest. " Then we both stay," he
said sullenly. " Stay, until the red devils and their masters,
who baited this trap, come hither to find their fool quarry."

" Oh, let us go," she answered, rising from the ground, to
run up the bank. " Since it is necessary we both go, let us
hurry. How slow you are," she said, then set off running to-
ward the Fort.

" Slow, am I? " muttered the man. " Slow! well, 'tis what
youth says to the aged, and why should child of mine differ from
the others." Muttering to himself, even yet suspicious of a
trap, he hurried after his daughter. " She is growing beyond

16 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

my care. I will send her to Mount Royal, with Pere Picquet,
when next he comes to address his Missassagas. She shall be
placed with the good sisters, and if I know aught they will
have their hands full." Solemnly wagged his gray head, as
he reached the gateway, where she stood conversing with an
excited sentry.

" Haste, father. Please!" she said. "To the Captain, at
once."

Suddenly the soldier came to the present. He was first to
observe a tall young officer, wearing the uniform of a French
marching regiment, standing close.

" Why this energy so wasteful? " he said with a slight frown.

" Oh, Captain de Celeron, I have discovered a man upon
the beach. I beseech you to send aid to him. I do not think
he is dead."

"A man! And how came he there without you becoming
aware of his approach ? " The last, to the shaking soldier, shiver-
ing at the angry eyes fixed full on his reddened face. " Answer
me, idiot."

" I do not know, my Captain," he stammered. " Ma'amselle
ran in, ran out — ran out and in, I mean to say, and now is
here, I—"

" Fool ! cannot I see for myself that the lady is here ? " Then
with a low bow he added, " I pray you explain, Mademoiselle.
This imbecile hath lost the little wit he once possessed. JTis
the sunshine in your eyes dazzling his mind." And the girl
blushed crimson, her ears detected a tinge of sarcasm in the
extravagant reply.

" While we stand, the man may be dead," she answered
sharply.

" Best for him, if he be not of New France."

" So my father said, m'sieu, but I beg of you for the Blessed
Mary's sake to send assistance to him. He breathed when,
when I — " a teardrop glistened on the long lashes, as she hesi-
tated, and the keen eyes of Captain de Celeron were quick to
notice — " when I did what I could for him," she ended slowly.

11 Who is he? " he said sharply. " Do you know him? "—
the last jealously, for he gave many moments to thought of
this girl. Paid more attention to her beauty than to his lawful
mistress, New France, whose duty he was paid to do, and who
should, seeing the girl gave him no reward, have reigned alone

A GIRL DISCOVERS A MAN 17

in his manly affections. " You know him ? " he said again,
and the girl reddened at the imperious tone.

" I only know he lies upon the beach, near dead — will die,
if aid be not furnished him at once," she answered with spirit,
and again the devil jealously prompted Captain de Celeron.

" He is a friend of yours? " he muttered, twisting his mus-
tache, as the girl smiled disdainfully.

" All strangers are not my friends," she replied, and the man
stood thinking.

This sudden desire to furnish aid to another male was mad-
dening. Military instinct, also aroused, warned him to pro-
ceed carefully in the matter. The man with a spy's cunning
might have purposely waited on the beach, where the girl, dis-
covering a miserable object, should innocently assist his purpose
to enter the Fort. He glanced suspiciously at the storekeeper,
saw his features betrayed nothing of import, then curtly hailed
a corporal parading a few men.

" Ho ! Peche, send two men — you remain here under arms.
See the gate be barred." Then very slowly, " Mademoiselle,
I go to attend your stranger. You will remain behind in
safety."

She took fire at once. " If you fear the slightest danger, I
will lead the way," she said with withering disdain.

" Come then, if you will, you must," he answered, swallowing
the insult to his courage. " I will aid this man, but if he prove
a spy — " He ended abruptly, and the little party moved out
in silence, the crash of wooden beams assuring the officer his
command had been obeyed.

Rapidly they covered the level plain spread out before the
lake. The shore was hidden from view, but the track of foot-
steps in dewy grass was plain to the eye. Out to the sloping
steep bank they came. Out to its very edge. The beach was
deserted. But a battered canoe lay as evidence; father and
daughter had not dreamed their tale.

"Blessed Mother!" she exclaimed, her face going white.
" Where can he have disappeared?" She ran to the birch-
bark, her father standing silent and sober looking; but the face
of Captain de Celeron was a study in scowling black and white.
He said nothing; only, two keen eyes fixed full on the father
betrayed suspicion that both parent and daughter knew more
than they should of the stranger, totally disappearing at the

i 8 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

moment of attempted rescue.

The girl moved swiftly beneath the bank, a disappointed look
on her oval face, that quickly blushed crimson. The petti-
coat, her garment, lay crumpled on the sand, hidden from the
four above. With a quick movement she gathered the discarded
apparel beneath her skirt. Then the voice of her father came
to her ears and she moved out in full view.

" By all the Saints there was a man," he asserted strongly.

" Well — where is he then ? " the young man said sharply.
His lips curved to a sneer, his manner, most sarcastic, inti-
mated to the speaker open disbelief. " Strange a dead man
should come to life, and conveniently disappear when I come on
the scene."

" Indeed he was there," the girl said angrily. " My father
dragged him from the water at my request."

" I said 'twas a trap of the British to surprise us."

"You said that?" snapped the young man. And his com-
panion paled.

" Just that," he answered sharply. " Think you I know
naught of red devil ways after years of residence in this land?
Do I not know them ? The man was here, and now is gone —
where ? " Contemptuous, he shrugged well nigh to his ears.

Captain de Celeron stood silent, anxiety for the safety of his
command robbing him of speech. Suddenly he turned on the
two soldiers, smiling at what they thought to be a harmless
prank of their divinity, forgetting a stern father little given
to tricks shared her play.

" Fools," he muttered harshly, " search the shore and that
speedily. Do you laugh to my back, you shall sweat to my
face, when we come again to the Fort, I promise you." And
they hurried off, inwardly trembling at a doubtful future.

The girl half turned, as if to assist their search. A glance
at her father urged her to his side. She saw a black mood
possessed him; that Captain de Celeron was gnawing a lower
lip, and to prevent open warfare, second thought bade her re-
main.

"You are angry with us, monsieur?" she asked. "You
surely do not think we would betray our only home? "

" I do not suspect you, mademoiselle," came his slow answer,
" but — " And the unended sentence, the fire in his flashing
eyes, enabled her to complete the words he left unsaid.

A GIRL DISCOVERS A MAN J9

" You think my father would ? " she exclaimed angrily.

" Pardon, if I think rashly — but his unwillingness to assist
me — his attitude — "

" Can you blame him ? " she said sharply. " He does what
he is permitted, under your instructions. Until you came, was
commander here, and no one fault was ever found with his
conduct of trade — until recently — until you came. Surely
you must trust him, or you dare not trust me."

He moved uneasily, under the steady glance of two clear
eyes. What he saw in their depths seemed to give courage to
his tongue. Suddenly he spoke and the girl stepped back to
her father.

" He hates me, I know," he said, striving to master emotion.
" Strives to keep you from me — but I love you, Madeline.
Love you madly — would do anything to gain your affection
and his favor."

The storekeeper came swiftly to life. Whirling the girl be-
hind his strong body, he boldly confronted the man who had
displaced his authority, and now dared add insult to injury.
" Captain de Celeron," he burst out, " have a care what you
say to my daughter. She is no grisette of the faubourgs, I
warn you. Your love ! You, an officer, and she, a plain store-
keeper's daughter. Dare you repeat such folly, and I will im-
mediately set out for Niagara, where your commanding officer
may have something to say when I state the reason of my com-
ing. I warn you — we leave this spot the moment you dare
repeat such insult."

His companion reddened under the words. " I crave par-
don, mademoiselle," he muttered. " I forgot myself — I make
my apologies to your good father, an he will allow it."

The storekeeper turned contemptuously away. His evident
hostility aroused deep resentment in the mind of the younger
man. He stood, his eyes set in a hard stare, angry, brain busy
with what he would do, should opportunity halt at his door.
This cursed boor, to come between him and his one desire.
He should pay dearly for such impertinence. Some day would
come the chance to separate the two. Then, she might come
to him for protection. He would grant it. Name of ten
thousand devils, yes ! But at a price. And the purchase should
cost her dear. Slight attention would be paid at headquarters,
if a common storekeeper and his daughter were reported miss-

20 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

ing. The man should certainly be absent some fine morning!
The girl ! Well, she would be officially missing also, but some-
one would know of her whereabouts. He smiled grimly. He
thought he knew who that one would be !

The return of the soldiers roused him from unholy gloating.
" There is no man, my Captain," one hurried to say, and the
other not to be outdone in zeal, " Not a hair of one to be dis-
covered." And their officer smiled. He was certain now.
The discovery of the stranger, his trance swoon; all part of
a plot to surprise an envied command.

" Back to the Fort," he snapped out. "McLeod, you are
under arrest pending further inquiry as to this man. Made-
moiselle, you walk with me."

She flashed a haughty glance at his imperious command,
raised her eyebrows in surprise, then moved to her father, who
smiled at her treatment of the man he had grown to hate. And
he followed in their rear, as silent, savaging his underlip, be-
cause he knew fear. Not fear for his own person. But the
safety of a first independent command — dear to one of his
youth, menaced by the appearance of this stranger, who, because
of his sudden, unaccountable absence at the first approach of
French aid must surely be a British spy — caused him grave
uneasiness.

He knew his enemies more than aggressive. His lone out-
post, miles distant from relief, lost to France, should they at-
tack its walls. And their red-devil helpers, the Iroquois, ever
ready for slaughter at the first command of their allies! He
shuddered, picturing the scene, and the possibility of their be-
ing at hand. This stranger must have been of British na-
tionality to penetrate safely through their yelling hordes. That
much was certain, for no Frenchman dared attempt such mad-
ness.

Who was he? What his purpose? Had the storekeeper
knowledge of him? Was the daughter implicated? Were
both engaged in treachery to his own beloved New France?

" She may know something," he muttered, unwilling to be-
lieve aught against her. " It cannot be she would be so basely
treacherous. Yet, she is his daughter — may let fall some-
thing, if I question her — a something that will place me on
guard. I will speak to her." One long stride placed him at
her elbow. " Mademoiselle," he calmly commenced, though

A GIRL DISCOVERS A MAN 21

the nearness of her presence, the subtle perfume of her body,
caused a whirling in his brain, " believe me, when I say I deeply
regret this necessary action of arrest. But as commander —
I — " He ended dramatically, pointing to the Fort — " I must
be careful. I must."

They had come to the gate, swinging wide to receive them,
and they entered to its precarious shelter. The wooden bars
were slammed into place, and the two soldiers waited the or-
der to dismiss. Their comrades on parade a short distance from
where the little party stood so far forgot a rigid discipline as
to cast curious stares in their direction. Then, the young man
observant of these details received a stinging reply, causing his
very flesh to tingle.

" Captain de Celeron," she said quietly, facing him bravely,
though her bosom heaved stormily under the stuff dress, " I
have heard that you are careful — exceeding so. Know you so
careful of my person, you would seize any chance to separate
father and daughter ; for what — I will leave to those who
observe your actions. But remember, I am no foolish girl.
My father, long in the service of New France, certainly not an
ignorant man. He, be it known to you, has cautioned me of
your carefulness," this, with a slight sneer. " And I warn you,
do you dare harm either of us, father or daughter, there be
those in authority who will hearken to my tale. So I say, be
warned in time. Remember! I have the honor to bid you a
very good morning, Captain de Celeron. My absence will at
least remove the necessity for your carefulness of my poor
person."

She turned, disappeared, an easy laugh upon her lips. But
once within the privacy of her lodging — a room to the rear of
the crowded storehouse — a flood of tears flowed. In her heart
a sense of dread grew daily at the persistence of this man, who
dogged her every footstep, and openly showed his resentment
did she dare smile, even on one of his eighteen men.

Outside in the clear sunlight her father laughed openly at
the check to his superior officer. The two soldiers were also
on the broad grin. But their officer, white with rage, savagely
gnawing a short mustache, turned their merriment to instant
sobriety. His manner, furious and abrupt, even paled the cheek
of the father, thinking of the safety of a well-loved daughter.

" To the Missassagas, you," he snapped. " Bid the young

22 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

brave, Senascot, come hither with all speed." As the two dis-
appeared, glad to be out of reach, " Come with me, McLeod.
To my quarters we will go, and there I will have the truth of
this matter, if I stretch your lying tongue from its roots. Re-
member, if your daughter make merry with me, I am your su-
perior officer, and I may discover means to enjoy my share of
laughter, when you are not on hand to encourage her imper-
tinence. Come," he snarled and walked off across the stockaded
inclosure, brushing aside the obsequious corporal, who would
have stayed him with some question as to the men.

Norman McLeod swallowed hard at the lump in his throat,
but followed silently. He almost regretted his ill-timed laugh-
ter. He dared not think how far a man might go in following
a desire. And his daughter. He shivered* thinking of her
safety, if danger came his way.

CHAPTER II

THE MAN DISCOVERS HIMSELF, TO LOSE HIMSELF AGAIN

URSE these Indian canoes. How they leak, at times! "
The words were muttered drowsily, the lips utter-
ing them chattered with cold and exhaustion. Francis Birnon,
opening his eyes to blink wearily in the powerful sunlight,
caught a glimpse of overhanging bank, where to his last remem-
brance the blackness of wild night had appeared. Then he at-
tempted to rise.

The movement caused his every muscle to creak agony. A
groan escaped him, and again he fell back senseless on the sand.
Again he woke. Struggled to realize where he was. Bewil-
dered, he gazed about on all sides. Noted his position on a
deserted beach, and with a tremendous effort rolled over on his
face. Groping, clutching at the grass growing on the bank,
he pulled his body upright, supporting aching limbs against the
earth, pouring a cascade of dust about two weary feet.

The world appeared loose from its anchorage to his swim-
ming vision. Round and round in dizzy circles swept the mir-
rored lake, or so it seemed to his whirling brain. His eyes
chanced on the crumpled canoe, and the sight brought stern
reality to his elbow. With lightning speed flashed through his
mind the battle with last night's storm ; that desperate clinging
to a canoe, with grip that naught save the icy fingers of death
should loose. The furious waves doing their giant best to beat
life from his body. Then blind, suffocating unconsciousness,
and now — where was he?

" Fort Toronto must be nigh at hand," he muttered. " I
thought I saw lights last night." Groping for a flask carried
in a hip pocket, unscrewing the top with chattering teeth, he
gulped a huge draft. A satisfied sigh escaped him. Carefully
replacing the receptacle, he stood, trying to take in more
clearly his surroundings. Then his glance fell on a woolen
garment, and he crouched quickly. " A woman's skirt," he
muttered. " Someone has been here to discover me."

A panic seized him. For the minute his eyes saw blackness.

23

24 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

Then he struggled upright, peering cautiously over the bank
for sign of his discoverer. Over the stubble level with his eyes
marched the sturdy shape of a stalwart man, a musket thrown
over his shoulder. Beyond, hurried the slim figure of a girl;
beyond her again, a sentry stood on guard at the open gate of
a high stockade, whose rough timbers sheltered the mud-chinked
walls of several low log buildings. He stood watching, until
the three were swallowed in the dark entry. Then with a gasp,
sank on the sand, the question of immediate escape troubling his
muddled mind.

" I must make way out of this place," he muttered drowsily.
" They have gone to alarm the garrison. If I am discovered —
here—"

He mumbled his words with an effort, for the fiery liquor
imbibed on an empty stomach, combined with the exposure of a
dreadful night, was proving too much for him, soldier as he
had been and one accustomed to some hardship on the field.
Francis Birnon found his eyelids come together of their own
accord. His head sought his chest. Again he wandered in
the mazes of sleep land, and for many moments remained un-
conscious. Then, obeying a subconscious prompting, he strug-
gled to his feet, staggered toward the lake edge, splashed along
the frothing shallows with all the irresponsibility of one
drunken, not caring where he wandered, as God-protected
drunkards are prone to do.

How far his rambling feet and straying wits traveled he
never knew. He half wakened at the touch of a hand on his
arm, to see a leering savage face. Then sleep, the rest his brain
and body craved and must have, regained the mastery, and he
sank into an embrace, seeming soft as fleecy wool.

"White man drunk — drunk as Missassaga," a harsh voice
whispered in his ear. The broken French, the rough gutturals
of Indian language, assured him he dreamed. Of that he was
certain. Care for personal safety was flung to the wide wings.
One of his guides had escaped the lake, and would see no harm
happened him. Of that also he was assured. Morpheus sealed
his eyes and he was happy. " White man, fool," muttered the
same voice, and the sleeper smiled, thinking how foolish were
the visions of a dream.

But the speaker was a living, wide-awake reality. Wabacom-
megat, Chief of the Missassagas, moving unsteadily to his wig-

THE MAN DISCOVERS HIMSELF 25

warn, also in search of sleep to recover from a debauch of
French brandy obtained from a thieving soldier of the garri-
son, paused in his way. Stood staring with drunken serious-
ness at the senseless man who had stumbled into his arms, and
fallen from their weak grasp to the hard sand.

" White man drunk," he muttered, drunkenly shaking his
head at such a sorry spectacle, and turning to see if any com-
rade followed. Not a soul was in sight. Placing his hands to
his mouth he emitted a most unearthly yell, and two young
braves came running at the sound.

" Where did my father find this man ? " the younger of the
two asked gravely, after a short silence, during which the Chief
had glorious visions of a future steeped in liquor. " He is bad
medicine for us," he ventured. But his father swayed silent,
his brain filled with but one idea. This stranger, himself
drunk, might furnish a parched throat with a draught of
longed-for strongwater.

" Carry him to my lodge," he said thickly. " When he
wakes I would speak with him. I, your Chief, command it,"
he added sternly to awe his half rebellious son. And the young
man, understanding his father was far from sober, in no mood
to be questioned on his doings, motioned his companion to lift
the stranger from the ground.

" French and British — bad enemies," grunted the other,
as they stumbled along.

" Were the first to know the Missassaga gave shelter to the
second, it would go hard with them," Senascot replied moodily.
He, noting the sleeper's clothes, thought him to be of British
origin. " My father is not wise," he added, then fell silent.

The outcurving bank gave way to a smoothly sloping sweep
of once green turf, level with the lake. Pitched on its trampled
surface, some thirty feet from the shore, rose several tepees,
their gaudily painted covers showing coarse and dirty in the
clean sunlight. Before the largest, clutching with both hands
at the skins, waited Wabacommegat. Save for the three In-
dians and the stranger, the place seemed deserted. Not one
soul witnessed the carrying in of that silent figure to its foul
resting place.

" Good ! " grunted the old man. " Senascot, wait without.
I need sleep. When this man wakes I will speak with him."
Passing inside, he dropped the tepee cover, regardless of the

26 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

stony glare in the eyes of his only son, angry, but forced to
unwillingly obey.

" Let no man of our tribe know of this," he said harshly to
his companion, and the other nodded, moving off to disappear
in the nearby forest. " My father is mad," the young brave
said, and gave way to thought the most gloomy. " Mad ! "

His parent was drunk, as he was every day of his life when
he could come at sufficient strongwater to reach that much de-
sired state. Since the Chief of the Missassagas had turned
aside from the sober pathway of his ancestors, Manitou had
frowned on his people. They had fallen from an ancient glory
through his folly, but had been keen to follow his example of
foolishness. Though nominally allies of the French, they were
but slaves kept closely under surveillance; a handful of beg-
gars whining for a doled-out ration. The resulting ruin, bit-
terly hateful to a young man longing for the red glory, once
his people's only ambition and delight.

All these things he knew and suffered. Knew his father
would have sold a perjured soul, had such a wretched thing
a fraction of value, for one taste of a well-loved ruin. Knew
his tribe were enslaved by drink, but he dared not murmur.
Compelled by tribal custom to obey his father, in turn ordered
by him implicitly to obey a hated master, his lot seemed of the
hardest. With no possibility of betterment. Bitterly he de-
tested the Frenchmen, though forced to render sullen obedience,
the only means at his command whereby some remnant of a
people might be saved from utter extinction. For their
hereditary foes, the savage Iroquois, slaughtered the Missas-
sagas as they did forest game, whenever — wherever they were
to be found without the protection of their French allies.

And Senascot, silent as a bronze statue beneath a hot Septem-
ber sun, pondered bitterly these matters. Angered beyond
speech at the drunken doings of a father, he was in no mind
to have thrust on his company a more drunken stranger. " He
shall taste fire," he muttered, " if he think to supply strong-
water to an old man." He ground his teeth, swearing by all
the gods he knew — and they were many, but not illustrious —
a hundred thousand torments should gnaw this white man, did
he pursue such purpose. " The French I must obey," he added
fiercely; "but does this drunken dog dare supply my father
liquor, he shall die ! "

to

THE MAN DISCOVERS HIMSELF 27

" Does Senascot love the sun so dearly, he burns his body in
its fire ? " a gentle voice said at his ear, and he turned, startled
from accustomed stolidity.

" Rose of the Hills," he exclaimed sharply. " Whence come
you?" Before him stood a slender form, just budding into
womanhood, her dusky features lovely to his admiring gaze.
" Whence come you, maiden ? " he repeated, and the raven head
drooped low.

" From the tepee," she answered meekly.

" From the tepee of my father? What did you there? " he
asked harshly, a burning glance centered on her trembling
figure.

" I sought speech of him — and — and, when the stranger
was carried in, hid myself. Then they sought sleep, and I — I
tended them — "

" That was wrong," he hissed fiercely. " My father would
be alone when the Evil One clouds his eyes."

" Even so, Senascot, but the stranger — needed attention ;
he — he seized my hand, and I — I — " She hesitated, with
heaving bosom, and her companion came close.

" And so ? " he snarled. " Then ? " Jealously he looked on
this girl who was his promised wife. That one of his tribe
should receive attention at her hands, a sore affront to his
dignity as a chief's son. But that this drunken wretch should
be tended by her — beyond all bearing. " And so," he hissed,
grasping roughly her slender arm.

" And I dared not disturb his hold," she gasped. " I feared
Wabacommegat — "

"What of him?" a harsh voice thundered, as the man they
spoke of stepped out, his reddened eyes glancing from one to
the other. " What of him ? " he demanded again, as both
waited silent.

Rose of the Hills stood shaking with fear at having dis-
turbed the old man's slumber. Senascot remained in an atti-
tude of tense-muscled strain. He feared the force of a father's
displeasure would fall on an innocent victim.

" Speak ! " shouted Wabacommegat, rage gaining in violence
from their silence. " What does a maid within my lodge, when
I would be alone?" And the son hastened to turn the river
of displeasure on his own more hardy head.

" The maid but sought my side — " he began hastily.

28 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

"Liar! Liar!" shrieked his father. With one stride he
moved on the girl, to beat her bruised and senseless to the
ground. " Lie there," he snarled. " I will teach you to play
spy on me." With a savage glance at Senascot he reentered
the tepee, jerking down the cover with a shaking hand.

A mad passion of rebellion raged in the son's mind. The
girl he worshiped lay bleeding from the nostrils. For a mo-
ment thoughts of thrashing a father entered his head. Then
he stooped, gathered the girl to his broad chest, and carrying
her to a near-by tepee, tenderly placed his senseless burden on
a heap of skins. No sound escaped his lips. Second, calm
thought told him the girl had done amiss and must bear pun-
ishment. Though his heart hammered hard beneath a buck-
skin shirt, he knew himself powerless to avenge the wrong done
to her. But his venom increased at the drunken stranger who,
he was assured, had been the cause of that sudden furious blow
given by a half sober father. He set his jaws hard. The
latter must be obeyed, but the former should receive atten-
tion — bitter attention — later.

When the stumbling Chief of the Missassagas entered his
tepee for the second time that day, he discovered a guest sitting
erect on the ground, staring about in evident bewilderment.
" White man sober now ? " he questioned in broken French.
" Where strongwater? " And Francis Birnon, but half awake,
his senses all astray in the gloom of the wretched tent, made no
reply. "Where strongwater?" demanded the old man, mis-
taking silence for fear. "Speak!" he said, laying one rough
hand on the other's shoulder.

Without warning, he measured his length on the dirt, to
stare upward to a menacing pair of gleaming eyes.

" So, you dirty brute, you would lay hands on me, eh ? "
Birnon said. " In a tight corner, I may be, but two may play
at blows, old man. Get up ! " he commanded, emphasizing his
order with a heavy foot, and the Chief struggled to his feet.
" Now, where am I ? Haste, I will not lose time with such
as you."

Wabacommegat breathed heavily. The insult to his person
was beyond belief. None had ever laid hands on him and lived
to boast of it. Under his breath he cursed his companion;
swore to have his scalp. But he must be wary. This stranger
possessed strength, and possibly might be made to furnish

THE MAN DISCOVERS HIMSELF 29

strongwater, ere he died a death of torment.

Francis Birnon, waiting anxiously, his whole mind occupied
with thoughts of escape, knew himself in great danger. All
his papers were at the bottom of the lake, keeping company with
his two Iroquois guides. He suspected Fort Toronto must be
close at hand, but to face the commander of that or any such
French outpost, without papers of identity, was to invite speedy
disaster. His clothes, of British pattern, evidence sufficient to
bring his neck within the compass of a swift rope.

"Am I to wait all day?" he asked threateningly, and his
companion, with a surly growl, that bared all his yellow teeth,
answered :

" In the tepee of Wabacommegat, who found you drunk upon
the lake shore," he snarled in fairly good French. Then he
added, all thought of insult washed out by a mad desire for
drink, "Where strongwater? You have?"

He snatched eagerly at the proffered flask, and Birnon
watched the liquor disappear. " So, 'tis both blood and brandy
you desire. I fear your capacity for the latter is greater than
my slim store, but I doubt your desire for the first can be ex-
ceeded."

" Good ! stranger, my friend," came the leering reply, fol-
lowed by, "Where more?" But the other only smiled.

" One thing at a time," he said. " Tell me, how far lies
Fort Oswego? "

" Fort Toronto much nearer," with a most suspicious look,
"you British?"

" Nay, not by birth, but inclined to sympathize with them,
though such distinction passes your befuddled wits, I fear."

" Why you come ? What for ? "

" That is my own business. How to get me across the lake
concerns you more closely."

" White man stay. Bring strongwater."

" I will supply enough to drown you and all your tribe, do
you set me over the great water."

" Bring strongwater," insisted the old man, and Birnon lost
patience with the drunken obstinate, demanding impossible
things.

" How may I provide that here? " he said impatiently. He
knew this dissolute sot could not be far from his masters. He
suspected Fort Toronto close at hand, and he had heard of its

30 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

commander as a zealot in the cause of his country. To fall
into the clutches of such a man would mean instant imprison-
ment. Perhaps immediate death. All white men traveling
within the bounds of New France, unless they were able to
produce papers proving they were militia men, or certificates
from the officer of their district, that they traveled on legitimate
private business, must possess a license to trade. And the young
man did not for a moment underestimate the gravity of his
present position. Papers, he had none; his journey, one liable
to arouse suspicion, for he came to spy out a man, but not to
spy out the country. " How may I procure strongwater in this
place? " he said angrily, thinking his companion but played for
time, while possibly a messenger hurried to acquaint the Fort
of his own presence. " How may I find liquor here? " he said
again, and a cunning leer crept into the eyes of the old man.

" We go to Fort. Frenchmen find strongwater — for you,"
he snarled, and Birnon became alert.

"So, you would sell me?" he said sharply. "My life for
liquor. Your appetite against my freedom."

As the words left his lips he leaped on the unsuspecting Chief,
seized his throat, to bear him, fighting, kicking, struggling with
the strength of a madman, backward to the dirt. Twisting his
thumbs deep into the knotted flesh, Birnon choked his com-
panion almost black in the face. Then he leaped to his feet
and listened. " A close shave," he muttered, jerking a leather
thong from its pole, to bind the still figure hand and foot. His
heart thumped loud, as again he strained every nerve to listen
for some sound outside. " Now to be away."

He stole on tiptoe to the tepee covering. Raised the flap with
cautious hand, to drop it as quickly as he picked up its corner.
Two moccasined feet stood immovably planted at the curved
edge. With a sharp indrawing of his breath, he hurried to the
rear of the tent, thinking to slit the cover and depart that way
unobserved.

Suddenly, as he waited, a rasping struck his ears, and he
turned with arrow speed. A gleam of sunlight shot in through
a rent, dazzling his gaze for the minute. A pair of gleaming
eyes stared ferociously for a bare second. That instant the
tepee fell bodily on him, and he fell, smothered in the clinging,
clammy folds.

" 'Tis to be my grave after all," he muttered. Then his

THE MAN DISCOVERS HIMSELF 31

mouth was stopped, the breath near driven from his body.
Numberless sinewy arms rolled him over and over, helpless,
unable to move one muscle, nigh smothered in the evil-smelling,
ill-tanned skins of the painted tepee cover.

CHAPTER III

FRENCH HOSPITALITY

WITHIN a gloomy building set apart as the guard house
of Fort Toronto, Captain de Celeron sat at a rough
table of dressed slabs. A writing case of red leather lay be-
fore him. At his elbow stood a silver drinking cup with a
dusty bottle, from which he liberally helped himself at by no
means long intervals. He sat scowling at the storekeeper stand-
ing on the other side of the table, silent, his features white with
anger.

" I am waiting, McLeod," he snapped, nibbling a quill pen.
" For the second time I ask you what you know of this man."
But the other shook his head stubbornly, and his silence con-
firmed the suspicions of his officer — the unknown must be a
spy. "Well, what of him?"

"What would you have me say? Lie to you?" the store-
keeper blazed out angrily. " My daughter went to bathe, dis-
covered a man, returned to acquaint me, and the rest you saw
with your own eyes."

" But I did not see the man," snapped his officer, and again
silence fell on the room, bitter with a new-born hate. " Where
is he?"

McLeod shook his head angrily, glancing up at the low
beams, and his eyes fell, to wander about the apartment.

The place was bare, dark almost, for the sunlight found
difficulty in creeping through the tiny horn panes. The tossed
blankets of a skin couch in one corner, the wide chimney-place
with its ashy yawn, added a most uncomfortable air to the rude
lodging. The only ornaments, a pair of dueling pistols hang-
ing on the mud-chinked wall, with a miniature of a lady. The
latter evidently a remembrance of former better times, that
seemed altogether out of place in this rude spot.

The storekeeper shrugged at the portrait. Scowled as he
glanced at the young man silent at the table. Evidently he
connected the two, and his train of thought was not calculated
to better his opinion of an officer he thoroughly disliked for an

33

FRENCH HOSPITALITY 3J

undesired attention to his only daughter.

" McLeod," snapped Captain de Celeron, " why did you run
to his assistance? You must have expected — "

" I repeat, I know naught of him. You are mistaken."

"Your daughter — does she know?"

" You may question her for yourself — I know nothing."

Captain de Celeron banged a heavy fist on the table and the
ink spurted over the paper. He rose to his feet, a look of en-
treaty in his eyes.

"Can you not see our danger?" he asked. "The danger
to your daughter, if this man prove a spy."

" Certainly, m'sieu," came the sneer. " I see great danger
in any case to one I know of."

The double meaning was not lost. The young man turned
white with anger. Came over to stare his companion in the
face.

" I understand," he said harshly. " You complain of my at-
tention to Mademoiselle. Listen. I complain of treachery to
New France. Which is worse? I know you have cause
against me, in that I superseded you here. My superiors, and
yours, know you a good man at trade — your record of skins
forwarded to Quebec proves that much. But they also know
a military man is absolutely necessary here at the moment. It
appears so to me indeed, when you refuse to tell me what you
know of this cursed spy. Now, once again — what know you
of this fellow?"

" I repeat, he was a plain woodsman from his dress. I did
not closely examine his body, thinking best to leave trouble
alone. It has come fast enough of late. That is all I know."

" Then you force me to place you under arrest, until I may
communicate with Fort Niagara, and — "

" If you placed me in hell, I could tell you no more," blazed
McLeod. " Why should I, with a daughter, do aught against
the safety of our only home? Why should I injure this place,
a spot I commanded when you were at dame school? Answer
me those questions, if you can, with any show of reason, Cap-
tain de Celeron."

He folded his arms across a broad chest to stare at his tor-
mentor, occupied with solution of those very statements. Why
should an honest man turn traitor? He had been the trusted
guardian of the Fort for years, his books balanced to a centime ;

34 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

what reason could one so honest find for a late treachery?

Then an inspiration crept into the mind of Captain de
Celeron. He smiled. At last he had it. The man was angry
at his supersession.

" McLeod," he said coldly, " your daughter may speak."

The storekeeper started as though pricked deep with a knife.

" Your word is law, here," he replied sullenly. " I think
you go too far."

" No loyal servant may go too far in the pursuit of treach-
ery."

" None save a fool would suspect an honest man, twice his
age," snapped the other, and Captain de Celeron colored to the
roots of his hair.

" I will see what I may do to assist her tongue," he said
hastily. "If you will remain silent, she can be made to
speak."

" As I have said, you may go too far," — McLeod got that
far coolly, then his anger burst bounds, and he leaned down to
stare with a deadly menace, straight into the eyes regarding his
excitement with much curiosity. " You are in authority here,"
he hissed savagely, " but by all the devils in hell, do you harm
my daughter, by one word, look or action, I will have your
life to pay for such work. So, remember." Then he stepped
back, to fold his arms, waiting what the other would do, at this
act of open warfare.

Captain de Celeron flushed at the threat. Then he banged
upon the table with his fist, curtly ordered the soldier who an-
swered the noisy summons to command Mademoiselle McLeod
to attend at once, and leaned back in his chair to also wait.

" She shall answer for you," he snapped out, and McLeod
inwardly raged with fury.

That this indignity of arrest should be placed upon his in-
nocent girl near drove him mad. This boy commander, this
insolent aristocrat, to insult his daughter! Some day, if there
was justice in the land, he should pay dearly for such work.
Then, as he stood, a thought flashed across his mind. Possibly,
she would refuse to come. Not one soldier would lay hands
upon her. Every man was her sworn slave, even to the griz-
zled sergeant. A smile flickered on his lips as he hoped she
would positively refuse the order.

Suddenly his smile departed. Another train of thought

FRENCH HOSPITALITY 35

entered his head. Had his girl some unknown object in view?
Was she interested in the disappearance of this stranger ? Was
he a messenger, or worse still — a lover? Then he almost
laughed. There was no man worth the paring of her thumb
nail, he thought. Visitors to the Fort were rare as diamonds.
Those that came never dreamed of raising their eyes to her
level. And as he stood he laughed out loud with relief, and
Captain de Celeron came to his side.

" You laugh," he said with a sneer. " 'Tis no pleasant mat-
ter, imprisonment, and * The Pit,' is bad — very bad, I hear."

" The Pit " at Fort Toronto was a narrow cellar dug deep
in the earth, and used as a prison for those disobedients resi-
dent within its confines. No ray of light entered its reeking
depths, once the heavy trapdoor — the only entrance — was
flung down. Confinement there effected salutary reformation
of the most hardened offender, and as a consequence, better-
behaved soldiers were not to be found within the realms of
New France, than the fifteen serving her at Fort Toronto.

Captain de Celeron sneered. His contemptuous glance took
in the burly figure, and as he thought of the misery to be en-
dured in close cramped quarters he laughed. Now was his
chance, he thought. The girl would be unprotected. He —
A sudden interruption put to an end his pleasing thought.

The door was thrown wide to admit a girl, followed by a
soldier, who seemed anything but pleased at a late occupation.
With a silent salute he hastened from the room, and once out-
side, ventured a shower of muttered curses, directed at an
officer who would molest a woman.

She, after hesitating a moment, hurried to her father, to be
clasped close in two strong arms. Then, with crimson features,
she turned to face Captain de Celeron, sitting staring, nervously
toying with a quill pen.

He remained silent many long minutes, drinking in her
beauty with longing eyes. Why was it, he thought, this girl-
woman should so distract his senses? Then, would she ever
be his? Her kisses be given of her own free will? Would
she ever respond to the caresses he ardently desired to place
on her red lips? Or — and the thought was hateful — would
force be necessary to secure their fresh delight?

He had known court beauty. Not an ignorant clod was
he. The Court at Paris had not left him untutored, but not

36 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

one bedizened lady of fashion had caused him one h
of thought. Yet, here he was to his amazement at the feet of
a forest girl, without fortune to gild a lack of birth and
soften a rustic manner! And he, the descendant of illustrious
ancestors, who would all turn in their stone beds at thought of
his marriage to such a common person! He scowled, silent.
A marriage ring, he knew, would be but a trifle for such a
glorious face and figure. Yet the thought was bitter. She, a
nobody, would have none of him. And that knowledge steeled
him to his intended purpose.

" Mademoiselle," he said sharply, " I am forced to command
your presence, that I may discover some necessary information,
refused by your father. Who was this stranger you discovered
on the beach ? "

" I know naught of him," she said passionately. " Naught,
save he was a poor unfortunate, well nigh dead. What right
have you to drag me here, to answer needless, foolish ques-
tions?"

The father vented a sly chuckle at her answer, that mad-
dened the young officer to extremity. Leaping to his feet, he
glared on both, and she shrank back, frightened at the expres-
sion on his crimson features.

" Mademoiselle," he shouted, " I will be answered with re-
spect. Impertinence from you, though you be a lady, will not
prevent me obtaining knowledge of this man you and your
father seek to hide. As an officer of New France I demand
from you all you know of him."

" I seek to hide no man," she replied hotly, with flashing eyes.
" The bare suggestion is an insult to both of us. As for New
France, she will be the better served when gentlemen are em-
ployed in her service."

Captain de Celeron flushed red as the sunrise before a storm.
Biting his lip, he seated himself, regretting a hasty speech,
bringing her reproaches on his head.

" Possibly the gentleman will place you in prison, Madeline,"
McLeod sneered. " He has threatened me with that."

"For what?" she demanded, her bosom heaving with fear.
"Prison!"

" Aye, he goes there an he mends not his manners," snapped
the young fellow. With a wicked smile, " You and I would
enjoy the society of each other, Mademoiselle, in his absence."

FRENCH HOSPITALITY 37

She clasped her hands together in earnest entreaty.

" You would not dare," she exclaimed. " Could not be so
cruel. What would you gain by such a dreadful action ? "

" Your company," he sneered. " Possibly you might — "

" Never," she said haughtily. " Never would I listen to a
man, the jailer of my father." Then seeing determination in
his face, for he thought he had gained a point, " What can my
poor father know of this man? He has never even set eyes on
him. I swear by all the Saints," she ended passionately.

" Then tell me what you know of him, Mademoiselle," he
answered brutally. " You know more than you should, or — "

The sound of shuffling feet, the noise of furious yelling from
Indian throats, interrupted the speaker, and he rose, waiting.
As he stood, the door was thrust wide. A mob of many
savages burst into the room, a white man in their midst, while
a soldier brandishing a musket strove to stem the tide of
struggling humanity. He was powerless to prevent their entry,
and contented himself with a glance at his officer, taking up a
position at his side.

The prisoner was half naked. His buckskin shirt ripped
and torn, his arms were drawn cruelly behind his back, and
the strip of hide thrust into his mouth permitted streaks of
mingled blood and foam to trickle down either side of jaws
forced half open by the gag. Commanding silence, a satisfied
smile upon his lips, Captain de Celeron observed McLeod re-
press a start of alarm. The girl remained unmoved, save that
her fair cheeks lost their charm of color.

" You have each seen the other before," he said, and as
McLeod scowled, " loose the gag. Now, I repeat, you men
have each seen the other before. Where? What for? I de-
mand to know in the name of New France."

The prisoner cast an anxious glance at his captor, allowed
his eyes to rest on the face of the girl regarding his condition
with evident pity ; turned to empty his mouth of blood and tried
to speak clearly.

" Monsieur," he answered hoarsely, " I do not remember
the acquaintance of this good gentleman." Plere he bowed low
to McLeod, who flushed uneasily, but made no other sign.

" I say you two have met before. Where, and for what
purpose? "

Captain de Celeron was purposefully rough in manner; in-

38 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

tentionally rude in speech. He had been quick to note
smile of appreciation on the lips of the girl he adored. Her
sympathy was evidently in favor of the prisoner. He savaged
his lips because of her presence, repressing a desire to use harsher
language, but his brow grew black as the stranger replied, per-
fectly cool and collected.

"Pardon, monsieur," he said shortly; "I repeat, this good
gentleman is unknown to me. Do you doubt my word, I shall
be honored to argue the matter — later, that is — " he hesi-
tated, bowing to the girl, — " when Mademoiselle is absent."

" Silence you," thundered the young officer, laying one hand
on his tasseled sword hilt. " Silence ! " and the other raised
his eyebrows with a shrug of broad shoulders.

" As you say now, monsieur," he said coldly. " Doubtless we
shall meet alone, and I may find opportunity to correct your
bad manners."

" Six feet of rope may prevent the lesson," came the grim
retort. " Of that, later. Now, answer me, sirrah. What
were you about upon the beach this morning? "

" Seeking immediate departure from this place, and the mind-
ing of my own private affairs, I do assure you."

McLeod chuckled quietly at the answer. Captain de Celeron
found more fuel for the fury of his blazing wrath at the jeer.
His face reddened as he seized a quill and prepared to write.

" Senascot," he snapped out, " where was this man ? How
came he to fall into the hands of the Missassaga?" He had
caught sight of the young man foremost in the band, and though
their chief, Wabacommegat, was at his elbow, he preferred to
question the son. The latter was more to be trusted than the
father. At least he never drank, supplied the Fort with game
at moderate charges, lied no more frequently than was to be
expected from a savage whose parent was a most notorious
offender in that respect. " Where was he found ? " he asked
again, and Senascot pressed eagerly forward.

" In the tepee of my father," he replied harshly. " There
we found him. He had bound our chief. Stolen his property.
We bound him, bringing him to our allies, the French."

Madeline, clinging to her father's arm, sighed with relief.
How foolish she had been, she thought. Of course the Missas-
sagas had found her stranger. Now matters would soon be set
straight. A pleased smile stole to her red lips.

,

the

FRENCH HOSPITALITY 39

" Continue, brother," Captain de Celeron said, hastily end-
ing the writing of the answer. " Continue; you shall be well
rewarded for such diligence."

" Senascot heard this spy speak cunning words. He offered
much strongwater, if knowledge of the Fort was given — "

" Liar," the prisoner interrupted calmly. " I made no such
offer."

" Silence, you. Thrust a gag in his mouth, an he interfere
again. Proceed, Senascot," and the young brave glared evilly.

" Then we bound him as I have said. Brought him hither.
We know him for a spy."

" I am no spy," Birnon said hastily. " I demand to be heard.
This lying villain — " The sentence ended in a babble of
sound, for the young brave, at a nod from Captain de Celeron,
snatched a knife from his girdle to thrust the gleaming steel
broadways into the mouth of the speaker. The keen edge bit
deep into tender flesh, as the thongs were tightly drawn and
knotted.

Madeline screamed. Quickly hid her face on the shoulder
of her father to shut out the horrid sight of blood. Her father
stepped forward, hesitated, remembering his daughter, to hold
her closely.

" Gently, Madeline," he whispered. " Gently, dear, I fear
we can do little for him — or any like us now." Then he im-
mediately regretted his thoughtless words, for she clung to him
in a very passion of weeping, as he caressed her hair, whispering
again, " Quiet, dear, you but make matters the worse."

Captain de Celeron, alarmed by her cries, came over to them.

" I had forgotten Mademoiselle," he said abruptly. " Take
her away. But remember, McLeod, see you make no attempt
to leave this place." And as abruptly he returned to his chair,
motioning Senascot to his side.

The storekeeper glared his contempt of the speaker. He
dared not trust his lips with further speech. He moved from
the room, leading the girl, blind with tears, but as she passed
the prisoner she took courage to smile at him, and he made her
a very low bow. He read interest, pity, sympathy, in her brief
glance and realized he was not absolutely without one friend.
Then the door opened, closed behind them, and he once more
faced his captor, biting the end of his quill with vicious teeth.

Captain de Celeron had observed the two. That pitying

40 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

upward glance was full confirmation of his suspicions. He was
certain now that the three were in league. That a dark plot,
well laid and ready to be sprung, had been nipped in the very'
bud by the capture of this stranger. Hatred of this fellow,
this spy, whose bloody features gained him sympathy, sprang
into life. He might have had one chance as a spy. As a
rival, absolutely none.

" Continue, Senascot," he said to the young brave, who
waited with an evil scowl on his swarthy features. And as he
heard, his quill rasped at express speed over the paper. Not
that writing was so necessary, but he desired to impress on his
commanding officer at Niagara his zeal for the welfare of the
outpost under his command. " Your mark, Senascot, to this
account," he said, then threw down the pen, sitting back with
a satisfied air as the young brave laboriously scratched a cross
on the precise statement. " The prisoner has been searched ? "
he snapped. " No. Then strip him."

A dozen willing hands reached out to the helpless man. He
knew he must be eventually overpowered by sheer weight of
numbers. Though his mouth caused him an exquisite agony,
he determined that when they loosed his bonds, untied his hands,
then — The thought gave him some pleasure. He would
show this yelping crew a white man's strength.

Speedily he was undeceived. As quickly tripped from be-
hind and flung upon the floor. One arm was loosed from the
thongs, but held by a dozen clutching hands. A ripping sound,
and his garments fell away, seam by seam from his sorely
bruised body. His captors cut one thong to as speedily re-
place another about his bare flesh. He fought like a madman
against such degrading treatment, but in a very few minutes
he lay helpless, naked as the day he entered the world, save
for the leather thongs cutting like steel whips into the skin of
his smarting flesh.

He muttered a prayer that the fringe of his buckskin trousers
might escape the eyes of his brutal captors. Sewn in the beaded
edge of those garments was concealed a strip of parchment
whose loss would mean the complete frustration of his journey.
That is, if he escaped his tormentors. He strained his ears to
catch the sound of its discovery. Uttered a sigh of deep relief
as he heard the officer speak in a most disappointed voice.

" 'Twould be his death warrant, the carrying of treasonable

FRENCH HOSPITALITY 41

papers," he muttered angrily. Then savagely, " Place his
clothes on him, and throw him in the * Pit.' I will despatch
news of his capture to Niagara, and wait for a hangman to tie
his last cravat. Away with him! I say."

Birnon sighed again with very thankfulness as he was lifted
from the floor, and his garments thrust on him by ungentle
hands. At least he was alive, he thought. Surely something
must come to pass ere the messenger returned. The girl
would — Then he became incapable of thought. Roughly
they dragged him from the building; forced his feet across a
space of ankle-deep sand; opened a heavy trap door and flung
him headlong into a reeking black hole. The trap thundered
over his half-stunned head, and he knew Stygian darkness,
hiding hope, light and shutting out all possibility of escape from
the brutes who yelled and capered above his aching head.

CHAPTER IV

MAIDEN METHODS

WHEN Madeline with her father reached the privacy of
their lodging at the rear of the storehouse, she threw her-
self down on a thong-laced couch to shut out the sight of bloody
drops trickling down a chin near smooth as her own. Could
she ever forget that scene of brutality? Would the poor, ill-
used stranger think her savage as his French captors? What
brutes some men were she thought and sobbed quietly.

" My dear," her father said anxiously, " weeping will do
him little good; I must think out some plan of assistance."
And she raised her head eagerly, wondering at the sudden in-
terest betrayed by her rough-spoken father, in the man he had
once considered better off dead.

" You spoke of ropes for him," she said almost angrily.
" And now that he lies cruelly wounded you wish to aid him."

McLeod swore softly under his breath. Hastily he paced
the floor, his bushy eyebrows drawn close over blazing eyes.
" I did," he said harshly, " and with good reason, as you see.
Would he not better be in his grave than at the mercy of such
as De Celeron? I would that Sergeant Pere returned from
Niagara. He might do something — but what ? " And he fell
to a steady tramping, the silence broken only by the sounds of
low weeping coming from his daughter.

The log-walled lodging, with the sun streaming in at the
narrow casement, presented a most cheerful air. Everywhere
lay traces of a woman's handiwork. In the stuff hangings at
the window; in the gleaming copper pots and pans ranged in
orderly rows beneath the wide dresser occupying one whole
side of the room; in the neat arrangement of the few — ex-
ceeding few — fanciful china dishes set out tastefully on the
shining oak dresser-top, and the adze-smoothed floor, even, cov-
ered with glossy skins, not forgotten in a maid's well-ordered
idea of neatness. And she, who had rarely known sorrow,
lay sobbing bitterly at the ill treatment of a man who was to
her at least, a complete stranger.

42

MAIDEN METHODS 43

" And he will die ? " she asked after a long silence.

" Yes," came the abrupt reply. " Of a certainty he will —
now." He was thinking of that sympathetic smile given in
the guardhouse, and the glare in the eyes of his officer. " Yes,"
he said again, and she rose hurriedly.

"You do not believe Captain de Celeron will murder him?
I will to him at once — beg of him to give the poor man —
one chance."

" Murder ! 'tis a harsh word, my child, but I would have
you remember this officer of ours permits no one to stand in
his path. Have you forgotten this morning? He will hang
this stranger for a spy, if for no other reason." And she blushed
rose red.

" He is bad," she exclaimed angrily. " You know it, I
know it and Sergeant Pere knows it too, though of course
he cannot say so. He says he loves me." She stamped her
foot viciously. " I hate him ! Detest him — and I would have
done so much for him."

Her father understood. He knew whom she wished to aid.
In his heart he was not sorry her interest was centered on the
stranger. Even yet, he hoped that some chance would arise to
give him freedom. That to himself, however. He would
wait, to see how matters turned out. In his heart he wished
she had been of more common mold; that her figure lacked its
present beauty. For women were scarce in the land, and men
of Captain de Celeron's breed were capable of many things to
attain such perfection.

" All we may do is to wait the coming of the Sergeant. He
may do something — and — " He ended with, "he is a very
pig for obstinacy at times."

" He will do anything for me," she answered, then fell si-
lent, staring out of the window.

Often had she dreamed of someone strangely like the prisoner.
More often, when assisting her father to inscribe in the huge
tomes sent from Quebec bare records of business transactions,
of stores expended for furs carried on broad backs over mile-
long rough trails, had fancy conjured some fair prince scan-
ning the neat lines, to think of the writer hidden deep within
the leagues of northern forest. And he had arrived at last!
Out of the nowhere had he come, to be brutally misused by her
own people!

44 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

She shuddered as she thought. His future looked dark in-
deed, and she had scarce a word with him. His complete help-
lessness painted a tragic picture to her youthful mind. One
shaded by the dull colors of grief, etched in with darker shades
of cruelty. And her tears flowed the faster, while her father
bent down to stroke her glossy hair.

" I would not have you weep so bitterly for a stranger,"
he said.

" He does not seem strange to me," she whispered.

" Nor to me," came the quiet reply, and the girl started.

" You know him, father? " she asked, but he rose quickly, his
eyes set in a steady stare, that changed to one of wonder.

" De Celeron will have his hands full an he keep up that
display," he muttered, leaning forward to peer cautiously out
of the window.

On the narrow platform running round inside the stockade
walls, sentries paced their posts. Copper glints flashed from
the muskets they carried, and the storekeeper counting carefully
numbered every man of the garrison on duty.

"What does it mean?" Madeline asked. "Indians?"

"Aye, our little Captain fears the stranger to be their ad-
vance guard. I would our Sergeant came." Then he added
almost under his breath, " He might do something for the
youngster. Poor Birnon." And his daughter caught the name.

" Birnon, is that his name?" she said. "You do know
him," and the man abruptly turned, his weather-beaten features
flushed, his hand trembling violently, as his fingers sought for
and crushed one of her soft hands.

" Madeline," he answered hoarsely, " if he be the man I
think, his father and I were close friends in the old days.
Years gone I knew him well. Years — long years gone."
And a scalding tear trickled down his cheek. The well of
memory was full to overflowing.

" Poor father," she said softly. " We must assist him then
for old times' sake." And the thought that her only parent
possessed knowledge of her stranger was wonderfully cheering
to her mood of sadness. •

" Aye, child, but we have a difficult task. See — see where
De Celeron places him." He pointed out to the stockaded in-
closure.

" That such a man should disgrace the uniform of New

MAIDEN METHODS 45

France," she gasped, for she caught sight of a wounded man
dragged unresisting across the dusty space, his feet trailing mis-
erably, and again her face sought the shelter of her father's
rough coat. " Oh, the coward," she whispered, but the man
said nothing.

His keen eyes noted Wabacommegat foremost of the mob.
Noted also that when his band were without the gate, the Chief
remained, to seat himself on the four-inch trap-door, above the
prisoner, and knowing well the absolute laziness of the man,
wondered why he should have taken on his shoulders even the
slight task of guarding a wounded man condemned to death.

" I do not understand," he muttered. Knowing nothing of the
rough handling Birnon had given his jailer, he was amazed.
But Wabacommegat waited for vengeance. Blood was needed
to wash out the insult to his powerful person as Chief of the
Tribe of the Crane. He promised himself a pleasure indeed.
His jeers as a jailer, in the ears of a spy, blinking in the sun-
light, was something well worth the trouble of waiting for.
But the storekeeper, unaware of the morning events, could only
mutter, " I do not understand," and his daughter shared his
wonder.

"I wonder would he assist us?" she asked slowly.

" We might give him strongwater and so perhaps effect an
escape, but near a barrel would be needed."

" Rose of the Hills is to marry Senascot. She loves me —
perhaps might persuade her lover to help."

" The man she is to wed hates the storekeeper as much as his
father loves the storekeeper's strongwater. Senascot would not
permit her to assist us." And the father shook his head.
Plainly he saw no help in that direction. " We must wait for
the Sergeant."

" She might do much for me, she says she loves me dearly,"
the girl persisted, for it was the only plan she could think on,
and her heart was eager to help the man she had discovered on
the beach. "Suppose I try?"

" If you will you must," her father said. " You may do
something. 'Twill be better than waiting." And he rose to
enter the storehouse, while his daughter ran lightly out to-
wards the " Pit."

" Wabacommegat," she said, in the half-French, half-Mis-
sassaga dialect, "where is Rose of the Hills?" But the old

46 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

man gave a surly grunt. He disliked the familiarity of this
white woman.

" In her lodge. What white maid want? "

" I need her," Madeline replied bravely, though the leer in
his eyes frightened her.

" Ma'amselle needs assistance," a heavy voice boomed at her
shoulder. With a gasp of relief she turned, to come face to
face with her old friend, Sergeant Pere. " Name of a fish,"
he said sourly, " but you choose strange aid."

" Oh, Sergeant, I thought you away at Niagara. When did
you return ? But now you have come, all will be well. Oh, I
am so delighted," she said all in a breath, and the soldier beamed
his appreciation, while the girl stood considering how she should
best put the matter near her heart.

Sergeant Pere, the sub-officer at Fort Toronto, was of un-
certain age, but all knew him to be lank of form, and some-
what round shouldered. Some of his enemies — and he had
more than his share — said sixty, even hinted at seventy years
having passed over his iron-gray head. But the wide sword-belt
about his wasp-like waist, his gleaming side arms and spotless
attire, betrayed the military dandy, defying the ravages of time.
True, his face was slashed from temple to jaw with a purple
scar, that gave him a most ferocious appearance at first ac-
quaintance, but the merry eyes gleaming youthfully out from
bushy eyebrows had always a smile for the girl who stood think-
ing how best to approach him, and gain his interest to her
stranger. Rose of the Hills was forgotten. The Sergeant, if
he would, could do much better.

" I am waiting, ma'amselle," he said. " Is it an errand to
gather flowers, or some such desperate venture?" Then he
suddenly scowled, for the sentries to a man had stopped to
stare. " Name of a fish," he shouted, " can I not hold con-
verse with a lady, but every pig-dog of you must stop to re-
gard me? "

Madeline smiled. Each soldier resumed his steady pacing,
utterly oblivious to all things save duty, and taking courage, she
whispered, " Sergeant, I am loth to trouble you, but — the
stranger — he will receive attention ? " To her intense sur-
prise, he stiffened visibly; his features took on a blank stare,
and his head became if possible more erect upon his shoulders.

" I have no knowledge of such a man within these walls/'

MAIDEN METHODS 47

he said coldly, and the girl flushed at what she knew was a de-
liberate falsehood.

" Mademoiselle would do well to appeal to me," a voice said
at her ear, and she understood the lie of her abject slave.

" Captain de Celeron — " she commenced hotly, then hesi-
tated. What was to be gained by openly defying the man?
The only possible way to gain assistance for the captive was to
cultivate friendship with his captor. An easy task when the
latter was only too willing to play guide. The idea was re-
pellent to her gentle soul, yet there seemed no other way to
attain a much desired end. With a smile on her lips, but an
inward warning to be careful how far she encouraged his at-
tentions, she said softly, " Captain de Celeron, your manner to
me — to my father — "

" I know," he replied eagerly, " but pray consider my posi-
tion, mademoiselle." He came a step closer. She shuddered
as his hot breath fanned her white cheek.

" I have thought of that," she murmured.

"And you do forgive me? Madeline, dear."

The bright day grew dark to her as she noted the unwelcome
familiarity. The Sergeant coughed doubtfully. He evidently
thought his little cabbage wrong. "I — I find it hard to for-
give brutality," she murmured, and the face of Captain de
Celeron wore a smile. He would dissemble in future, he
thought; that is — until his desire was attained. Then the
iron beneath the velvet should be shown.

" Brutality," he said softly, as though the word was an
offense to his nature. " Brutality, mademoiselle. 'Twas duty.
The thought of danger to you made me somewhat harsh.
Were I — were any of us to fall into the hands of Indians,
we should be treated in worse manner. 'Tis what we soldiers
all expect in this savage land, should we be taken by the
enemy."

" From savages — yes ; from white men, no. This poor
fellow was near dead. He is no spy."

" Do you desire better treatment for his hurts, he shall re-
ceive it," he said eagerly. But the girl could only nod assent.
Her brain was swimming with a fear she could not put in
words. Her companion smiled at her dismay. " Ho, Ser-
geant," he said sharply, " remove the gag. Give the man
water." Then he waited until his sub was out of hearing. " I

48 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

pered.

would do much to gain your favor, Madeline," he whis
"The slightest reward would satisfy me."

" The good God will reward you, monsieur," she murmured
faintly. " I may only thank you in the depths of a grateful
heart."

" I would much prefer to receive my reward direct from the
lips of one of His angels," he commenced passionately, but dis-
covered he spoke to empty space. The girl had gone. Woman-
like, having gained her present object, she put off the date of
payment to a more convenient season. " Thousand devils," he
muttered, " she shall not escape me so easily the second time."
Twisting his mustache to needle points, he strode angrily off to
his quarters.

With the speed of a hare pursued by a relentless hunter,
Madeline raced over the ankle-deep dust. Fear of a detaining
hand lent wings to her feet, and she ran into the shelter of her
father's arms, clinging to him tightly with little sobs of ex-
citement.

"What is it, child? Iroquois?" he laughed.

" Oh, father, Captain de Celeron, he has promised to care for
our stranger."

" Name of all the Saints, and how came he to such a right
about face? "

" Well, Wabacommegat would not assist me, and Sergeant
Pere chanced by — "

"And wheedling lips beguiled the old one still further into
the meshes a saucy tongue daily entwines about willing feet,
eh? He asked assistance, yes?"

" Nay, he was angry — at least he made pretense of it, but
the Captain — " She hesitated with rosy face. How should
she explain to her father the reception given a man he had
warned her to hold strictly aloof?

" Well, child, what of him ? " he asked, turning her face to
the light streaming in through the wide wooden door. " Why
hesitate?"

" He was there and — I temporized," she whispered slowly,
but her father allowed his hand to fall from her cheek. For a
moment he said nothing. Then slowly, and the girl was fright-
ened at his expression, he said, —

" Temporized ! Temporized ! Ah, my girl, 'tis the first step
on the road to hell, the devil makes easy for those women who

MAIDEN METHODS 49

are easy led." The eyes of his daughter flashed fire.

" Father! " she exclaimed angrily, " do you think so of me?

hate this officer. Detest him." And she stamped her moc-
casined foot vehemently on the boards. " What else was I to
do? 'Twas the only way to gain assistance for the poor
stranger. The only way," she repeated.

" An my little cabbage did well," Sergeant Pere said, strid-
ing into the storehouse, his heavy feet resounding to the dusty
rafters. " A drink of brandy and charge it to New France,
my friend. 'Tis the order of our Captain," he added, noting
the stare of surprise on the face of his companions.

" For the prisoner ? " Madeline asked eagerly.

" He and no other, little one. You understood, just now."
Here he jerked his head sideways. " I dare not do too much
when he was on hand to take note of me. I am only sub," he
added with a grin.

" Ah, but I am more than satisfied he should receive attention
at the hands of my sub-officer," she said with a winning smile,
and the old one winked his appreciation.

" I lack bandages," he said ; and as the girl flew to obtain
what he desired, he continued, " We were not better served at
Brest, where we had abundance of material necessary to the
conduct of honorable warfare." Then curiously, " My little
cabbage is a friend of the prisoner? " For he was greatly per-
plexed. He failed to interpret aright the sudden interest of his
little one in a stranger, seen for the first and only time that
day.

Madeline blushed rosily, and her father came to the rescue.
" No," he said slowly, " but his father was my good friend.
Long ago." Sergeant Pere laughed heartily.

" Now I comprehend," he said with deep approval. " He is
the fiance of mademoiselle. Ah! now I see. 'Tis well."
Placing a finger to one side of his nose, he whispered confi-
dentially, "May I bear a message?" And as the girl stood
frozen, gazing up to the grinning features of her adoring slave,
he continued impressively, " Name of a fish, little one, 'tis
naught to be ashamed of. We all have loved. Why, when I
was at Brest, under Dieskau the German, I — Tut, tut, we
all have our little secrets, eh?" and he winked a volume of
confidences at the storekeeper, leaning against the counter, as
much if not more amazed than his stupefied daughter, at the

SO THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

complete misunderstanding of the old man.

He at last felt himself aggrieved at the silence of his two
best friends. They to keep a secret from him. Ah, he was as
wise as they, even though the flavor of youth had long departed
from his bones. Knowingly he came close to whisper.

" 'Tis to be hidden from our Captain. I understand, but
why from me? He desires you for himself. I have seen, and
shall be silent until I am to be trusted." Then he winked hard
to hide his displeasure.

" Sergeant — you — Oh, I do trust you — but — "
Madeline began, hastily attempting to explain, but the old man
was more than satisfied with her confidence.

" Name of a fish, of course you do, little one. You love him
and would say more were you certain of me." He rattled on to
hide the confusion of the girl, and as he strode outside ended,
" Trust me, my cabbage. I will convey to him all that a maid
may desire to say to her future husband. Trust me, child. I
will say enough." And he was gone.

Madeline ran to her father, hiding her face on his shoulder.
One fearful glance she caught of his features, but he seemed
not at all angry. He seemed rather to have arrived at the
solution of a very difficult problem.

"What will he say?" she murmured, and her father an-
swered very gently:

" My dear, we cannot help what he may say or think. This
matter is in the hands of God." Under his breath he added,
" But Sergeant Pere intends to have his way. I wonder what
will be the outcome?"

CHAPTER V

THE SERGEANT ALSO DISCOVERS A MAN

of a fish, but the child is fearful of offending her
future lord and master," Sergeant Pere muttered, as he
hastened toward the " Pit." " He is British. That may ac-
count for it. They are soulless heathens, to a man." Then
his eyes chanced on Wabacommegat seated on the trap-door.
" Out of the way," he muttered wrathfully, while the old
Chief longingly eyed the vessel of brandy set carefully on one
side. " Out of my road, heathen. A whiff will be your
share."

Feeling with careful feet for the rungs of the ladder, he
descended to the wet ground, and quickly kindling a torch he
carried, stood peering about, distastefully, and with much anger.

" Name of a fish," he muttered, " 'tis an evil place to receive
company." Then his gaze fell on the prisoner, lying where
he had been tumbled into his prison. " I have little doubt he
has received scurvy treatment, yet had Dieskau had him, he
would long ere this have imitated an acorn dangling from its
stalk." He paused to scowl angrily. " And now I, for the
sake of a maid, must turn traitor to the training of my youth
and assist the enemy. 'Tis not like De Celeron, such brutal-

ity."

A few quick slashes of a knife freed the man he came to
succor. The gag was tenderly removed, and Francis Birnon
sat stiffly upright, spitting the blood from his lacerated mouth.
For a moment the old soldier stood silent. Even his hardened
soul revolted from such cruelty perpetrated upon one white
man by another.

" De Celeron will be hard put to it to explain such conduct
an this man go free," he muttered. " What reason has he, I
wonder?" Then he had it. Madeline! He would have her
for his own. That was the reason, and scowling horribly he
shrugged, with, " Oh, these women," under his breath.

Aloud, he said in defense of New France and the uniform
he wore, " Name of a million fishes, my brave, 'twas no French-

Si

52 THE SERGEANT OF ORT TORONTO

man tied that gag." But the prisoner made no reply, save to
shake his head slowly. That careful movement, exquisite tor-
ture. " Never care," rambled on the old one, " I bear a mes-
sage, comrade, but first, drink this."

The prisoner eagerly 'seized the brimming bowl, and at-
tempted to swallow the fiery contents. The biting spirit pene-
trated to every corner of his wounds, cauterizing the slashes,
but proving a second agony, hard to bear without complaint.
He tried to mumble his gratitude, prevented by his visitor,
who, smearing a black ointment upon a strip of cloth, hastily
commenced to bandage his torn cheeks.

" Name of a fish, but your appearance will be none the
worse," he chuckled, endeavoring by rapid surgical treatment
to hide his disgust. " When I was at Brest, under Dieskau
the German, many a handsome fellow lost the half of his body,
and was thought none the less of by the girls an he had loot in
plenty to spend on their greedy persons." He paused in the
nice adjustment of a bandage, to add, " If silence be of gold, you
will possess many riches for the next few weeks." Then he
finished his task, and the pair waited, silently surveying each
other by the light of the sputtering torch.

Suddenly the younger man reeled; clutched at the slippery
wall to save a fall.

" Leg trouble, eh, my brave ? " Sergeant Pere said with a
chuckle. " Well, you are not the first to suffer from such
complaint. I have known occasions when my own limbs re-
fused duty and my tongue joined in the mutiny against their
owner." Here he screwed his lips into the semblance of a
smile, to as quickly resume his ordinary expression as though
ashamed of his momentary lapse from precise military manner.
" Name of a fish, but I forget," he continued, casting his eyes
up to the oblong of sunlight overhead ; " Ma'amselle sends her
love and devotion. Her heart is all your own. Beats only
for your sake. Much more she would have told me, but lacked
time and opportunity." Then he stood back to note the effect
of his message.

Francis Birnon stared undisguised wonderment. What girl
was the old fellow speaking of? There was no woman on this
side the Atlantic, or on the other for that matter, who cared
two straws as to his present predicament. He shook his head to
show lack of understanding; surprise in his eyes that asked a

THE SERGEANT ALSO DISCOVERS A MAN 53

thousand questions for their dumb owner. And his companion
grew irritated at the apparent willful denseness.

" Name of a fish," he said angrily, " do I not know all ? Has
she not assured me? Were I to receive a love message from
one so beautiful, I would do better than to stand staring like
an idiot." Then the idea that possibly the prisoner was more
in need of food than love tokens flashed to mind. With a
world of apology in his stiff manner, he said, " Pardon,
stranger; 'tis I who am a nameless animal. You doubtless re-
quire attention to the inner man." With a doleful shake of the
head, " I fear the road to your heart lies through your stomach."
For he was somewhat disappointed at the thought of divine
love finding entrance through such commonplace passage, and
his voice betrayed resentment at the humbling of Cupid.

The younger man hardly understood, but he vigorously
nodded his head at the word food. He had eaten nothing since
noon of the previous day. This old one was without doubt a
trifle mad. Certainly an odd character. But if meat and
drink were to be come at through his good will and kindness, it
was best to humor him. So he nodded again, pointing to his
mouth.

" Ah, that rouses you, does it ? For the moment I thought
your wits wool gathering, but they are hungered and quick to
smell meat. Now, wait. I will see what victuals I may pro-
vide for a man who may not open his mouth to receive them."

Sergeant Pere quickly ascended the ladder. He was angry
at his forgetfulness to provide food; was about to mutter some
further apology, when he noted his companion busily engaged
in making sure arms and legs remained sound. With a shrug
he departed, muttering to himself at the ingratitude toward a
maid.

Sounds of discord, the noise of blows putting haste into lag-
ging feet, rose on the still air, and Francis Birnon, in spite of
his captivity, inwardly smiled. " He is a tartar," he thought,
and then the open door met his eye. Why should he not
ascend ? None being at hand to dispute his passage, he climbed
the shaky ladder, emerging into the quiet afternoon. Grate-
fully he exposed his half naked body to the warm sun, draw-
ing deep breaths of the pine-scented air. Then his roving eyes
caught sight of a row of log buildings opposite where he sat;
their shingled roofs, warped and twisted by the heat of long

54 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

years, attracted his attention.

" 'Twas within one of those I saw her," he thought, and
curiously turned his head.

There, before his eyes, stood the girl of whom he thought,
her charming features framed by the vine-wreathed casement
at which she waited. At his first sign of recognition, a bow
in his best manner — he even had time to note the interest on
her smiling face — she disappeared. But a waving window
curtain betrayed the fact of her presence.

"Wonderful that a white girl -should reside in this desolate
spot," he thought. " And the man — he must of course be her
father — McLeod, the officer had named him. Strange indeed
to discover such beauty here." Then a stranger thought
flashed across his mind. " Could this storekeeper, — he must
be that from his civilian attire — could he be the man he was
in search of ? Absurd! That rough old man, with a tangle of
iron-gray hair surmounting his massive head, his harsh speech
and dictatorial manner, was little like to prove on closer ac-
quaintance even the refined Rene de Laudonniere, he had been
taught to expect from the description furnished by his grand-
father. Absurd; who could expect a gentleman acting store-
keeper to a tiny outpost? But who would have expected to
find in this savage waste so gentle and ladylike a person as this
very storekeeper's daughter?

Again he shrugged with a frown. 'Twas a confounded nui-
sance, this being dumb. Yet the bare idea of discovering the
benefactor of his grandparent in this outcast place was per-
fectly ridiculous. He dismissed the subject from his mind, to
fall wondering how long his repast would be in coming. And
how, in the name of St. Francis, he was to eat when it came?

" Drowned deep in reflection ? " a voice said at his elbow, and
his old soldier friend returned, balancing a bowl of steaming
broth carefully in two hands. " Name of a fish, but you
English take pleasure sorrowfully. English you must be in-
deed, by the folly of your approach to a French fort alone."
Then, hurriedly, " 'Tis hard to think on a hempen collar with
composure, my brave, but I have heard 'tis soon over, so cheer
up. Many a better man than either of us two has decorated
an oak tree-top."

Francis Birnon coolly shrugged. Rising, he shook his head
to show he possessed a purely philosophical mind in matters be-

THE SERGEANT ALSO DISCOVERS A MAN 55

yond his control. But he thought rebelliously, 'twas hard to be
silent when questions concerning his disposal seethed hotly for
solution. Then the soft loam at his feet inspired him. Seiz-
ing a short stick, he commenced to trace letters on the sand.
Surely by this means he could account for his appearance: state
exactly why he came and what for!

Sergeant Pere stood quietly by, his twisted lips drawn to a
queer smile. " Letters, eh ? " he said. " Knowledge and a
handsome appearance is sure attraction to a maid, that is —
provided the face of the writer be hers to fondle, and the words
speak of her own fair features. Otherwise — well, there may
be troublous times. Had I the art at Brest, now — ah — "
He was rudely interrupted from contemplating his own possible
amours, lost through ignorance.

Francis Birnon seized his lapeled coat, eagerly pointing to
the ground.

" Nay, stranger," he said sadly, " I am not versed in signs.
As a child I was delicate, and could not learn; as a youth I
was severely confined to — " He ended with a smothered
cough. He was about to trench on private history the better
to remain unrelated, possibly best concealed altogether. Re-
membering himself in the nick of time, he smiled, shook his
head in the sorely disappointed writer's face. " Name of a
fish, but art not hungry? " he asked to divert the topic. " Be
content. They may not hang you until speech be restored —
that of course is doubtful, but there is consolation in so think-
ing. See — here is broth. How in the name of all the fishes
in the sea 'tis to pass thy lips passes my poor wits." He shook
his head in disappointment. Then he had an idea. ' " If there
was but one quill," he muttered.

His roving eyes chanced on Wabacommegat, seated close at
hand, lost to all material things save the burning tobacco in a
stone pipe at which he contentedly puffed.

" Ha, to my hand appears the thing needed," he chuckled.
With one stride he came close, plucked several feathers from
the old man's gaudy head-dress, and unconcernedly commenced
to strip them of their plumage. When they were trimmed to
his liking, he thrust them into the bowl, and handed it to
Birnon. " Drink," he said, and the other, inserting the quills
to one side of the bandage, rapidly sucked down the rich con-
tents.

56 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

Wabacommegat sat stupefied at the insult to his sacred per-
son. Then he leaped to his feet, raving with rage, menacing
the old soldier, who paid not the slightest attention to his mo-
tions.

Birnon attempted to mumble some words of gratitude, but
was waved grandiloquently away. " Say not a word, stranger,"
Sergeant Pere said with a motion of one long lean arm.
1 'Tis naught, such device to feed the wounded. Why, when I
was at Brest, under Dieskau the German, we had forty doing
the same trick, through smaller feathers than those you put to
such good purpose. Forty," he added slowly ; " I think 'twas
fifty, but will not lie to gain a trifle of ten."

His gaze fell on Wabacommegat, near mad with fury and
the pretended ignorance expressed by the old soldier of his
whereabouts.

" What ails you, Indian ? " he asked scornfully. Without
waiting for reply, he coolly turned his back. " These dogs be
great dancers," he said with a scowl, pausing to adjust his waist-
belt.

Wabacommegat saw his chance of revenge. Quick as the
thought impelling the action, he seized his knife, raised the
blade high in the air to bring it whistling down to seek the
heart of his insulter. Birnon stepped forward as the steel de-
scended; thrust forward his elbow, taking the arm of the
would-be murderer in mid-air. The knife hurtled harmlessly
through space, and the old Chief sank to the ground, nursing
a bruised wrist, muttering horrible imprecations on both men.

Sergeant Pere grinned good humoredly. " Stranger," he
said, " I am obliged. 'Tis like these dirty brutes to stick a
man with their dirtier skewers when he offends them. I will
attend to him." With a long arm he seized Wabacommegat
by the back of the neck, and coolly proceeded to place several
well-planted kicks upon his anatomy. Two heavy boots were
employed with good effect until tiredness compelled the pun-
isher to desist, and at last he released the old Chief, who sank
groaning to the ground.

The jeers of the soldiers on the walls, interested spectators
to a man, rang loud on the quiet afternoon air. Stung to mad-
ness, forgetful of his injuries, the Chief bounded to his feet,
ran across the stockade, and before a hand could be raised to
prevent his escape, leaped to the platform, scaled the wall anil

,

"DRINK"

THE SERGEANT ALSO DISCOVERS A MAN 57

vanished. He waited for a moment until the walls were lined
with the soldiers, then with a yell of derision he hurried to the
leafy forest encroaching within a hundred yards of the Fort.

Sergeant Pere followed slowly to the gateway. " Another
enemy to annoy us," he muttered to Birnon standing at his
side. " He would have pricked my vanity. Stranger, I am
obliged. I am not acquainted with the name, but at least I
know a man when I meet one."

Birnon eagerly seized the hand extended. He knew he had
found at least one friend within the habitation of his enemies.
A sturdy comrade, too, and a brave one ; a man who had turned
not one single hair when an Indian knife came very near to
cutting the slender thread of existence.

"As a French soldier I am bound to obey orders," the old
one continued, " but," and here he winked impressively, " I am
allowed some discretion in the carrying out of such commands.
Wilt give thy parole as one man to another not to escape?"
and the other bowed low in elegant manner that won the secret
approval of Sergeant Pere. " Ah, good. Come with me to
my lodging,"yhe said grandly, as though the pleasures of all
Paris were to be found within his poor quarters. " Come. I
will find more proper accommodation for a long body and sore
bones than are to be found within the * pit,' which is but an
eyesore to my military way of thinking."

As he walked he muttered, " De Celeron may rave an he
will — should he discover what I have done, he will do so in
any case, but I know a man when I see one, and the Good
God alone knows they are scarce enough in this devil's land."

Francis Birnon followed slowly. His mind was filled with
gloom. The future seemed so short. He had made one friend,
but also a bad enemy in the person of Captain de Celeron. He
knew the name, and had overheard his companion's mutterings.
However, he was yet alive, and that was something to be thank-
ful for. Something must surely turn up to assist him out of
his present difficulty; some friendly hand ward off the disgrace-
ful spy's death. But he was not sure, and rescue seemed many
miles distant.

In this frame of mind he strode along, but he would, per-
haps, have been more cheerful had he only known a young girl
had witnessed his activity. That she had clapped her slim
hands when the knife had fallen harmlessly to earth. Also,

THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

that she secretly approved of his courage and personal appear-
ance, scarred though he happened to be at the moment and
ragged as any scarecrow flapping its rags in some safe meadow
in the old land from whence he came.

-.

CHAPTER VI

HOW CAPTAIN DE CELERON SOUGHT CONSOLATION

THE devil of dull care sat with Captain de Celeron; the
spirit of anxiety whispered a thousand fears in his ready
ear. Alone in his quarters, he mentally read over the doings
of the day.

The appearance of the prisoner troubled him, the stubborn
silence of the storekeeper where the former was concerned an-
noyed him ; the interest displayed by the girl he confessed he de-
sired beyond all things toward the same fellow roused a slum-
bering hate directed against the father, and a vindictive desire
to end the life of the younger man.

That the latter was a British spy he had little doubt, though
he had offered to explain his presence in French territory. He
knew white men without a license to trade would naturally lie
to save their necks from the noose accorded to all and sundry
without necessary papers to prove identity. And the man's
speech and appearance belied the trader. He must be a spy.
What else could he be, an Englishman alone within French
bounds ?

" Thousand devils," he muttered savagely, " 'twould perhaps
have been wiser to let him speak. That Senascot is at heart a
liar, as are all his breed." Then, thinking of the scouts he had
despatched to scour the surrounding forest, he added, " I would
they returned, yet when they do, 'twill be but to demand strong-
water for an unsuccessful search."

Captain de Celeron- was a brave man, but he may well be
forgiven his doubts. British forces were creeping slowly but
surely across the frontier. They had with amazing audacity
once succeeded in diverting the trade of the outpost he com-
manded to their own better supplied Chouegen across the lake.
Though that ill-starred spot had been wiped from the earth by
French soldiers, custom at Fort Toronto had not been bene-
fited by the slaughter of the garrison and the destruction of a
rival trading outpost. At least, to the eyes of the young man,
at his first independent command, imperatively ordered to re-

59

60 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

store trade to its former lucrative conditions, the monthly re-
turns forwarded to Niagara showed no increase. Rather a de-
cline in trade.

He rose from his chair to pace the floor. Swore lustily as he
thought of his failure. He knew fewer traders came now he
commanded than when McLeod had charge and the place was
a hive of noisy industry. To shoulder the blame of failure was
a bitter blow to his vanity; to confess to his superiors at Niagara
he was unsuccessful, calamitous to his further advancement in
the service of New France.

" Had McLeod worked with me, we had long ere this made
a better report to Lavalterie," he muttered, thinking of what
that gentleman would have to say when next he met him at
Niagara. " Thousand furies, I may consider myself recalled,
and through him. How in the name of all the Saints may I
restore a trade that was already ended ere I came? The devil
seize McLeod, the Fort, and the cursed custom into the bar-
gain." Turning, he paced the uneven floor, creaking dismally
beneath his irritated footsteps.

Captain de Celeron had risen rapidly in the service. He was
but twenty-one years of age, a mere boy to forest trading. The
jealous said, his father, the Comte de Jouey, a powerful states-
man in the old land, had more to do with his advancement than
brains. At any rate, he was in command of Fort Toronto to
effect a restoration of the place to its former profitable state.
Under his orders a military regime had at once superseded the
easy-going civil rule of McLeod, the former storekeeper and
officer in charge ; that was in its operation a deadly blow to the
desired end.

Drunkenness, buffoonery, was displaced by a forced sobriety,
foreign to the ideas of the trappers who made the place their
headquarters. Theft was punished by instant consignment to
the " pit " ; barefaced robbery instantly avenged by the rope
that needed but one application to effect a permanent cure.
As a consequence custom dwindled. Truthfully, it had ceased
to exist from the first week since the young officer had come to
take over his envied command.

Now, to crown failure, came the appearance of this spy.
Without doubt, the advance guard of a British force, near at
hand, waiting ready to surprise his tiny outpost. Worst of all
troubles, McLeod disliked him intensely, had forbidden his

HOW DE CELERON SOUGHT CONSOLATION 61

daughter to hold converse with him, and ordered her to avoid
his presence as she would a pesthouse.

He knew of that. Peche, the corporal, a creature of his own,
had overheard and related the story. To-day he had heard
the girl's open dislike of him. She had cajoled him only to
run away, and then the father, whose advice was now of the
utmost importance, had threatened to leave the Fort.

Savagely he clenched his teeth as the combination of troubles
was brought home to his lonely mind. " A thousand demons,"
he said ; " she gains favors from me to escape when payment
is demanded. I would I had never set eyes on her." Then
the soft beauty of the girl rose to his vision in the half-dark
room ; the bewitching smile on red lips made but for kisses ; the
sparkling eyes whose glances turned to disdain at his approach;
and throwing out his arms, he muttered, " Oh, Madeline, I
crave pardon. Your tender heart is not to blame. 'Tis a surly
old father who fills your dainty ears with tales of my evil pur-
pose towards you."

For a moment he stood, oppressed with a new sense of loneli-
ness, strange and unaccountable. Suddenly he strode to the
door, demanding from his orderly a bottle of rum. " Some
friend I must have in this forsaken spot," he muttered. " For
lack of a wiser and better spirit, the bottle must take its place."
When the soldier appeared, he seized the dusty flask, filled a mug
to the brim and tossed off the liquor at a draft. " Loneliness
is the devil's own invention and must be exorcised by the spirit,"
he laughed, and poured another drink.

Long he sat pondering his troubles, drinking deep even in
that day of abysmal potations and protracted sittings at the
wine cup. But though he gulped mug after mugful, his mind
retained its clearness of vision; his speech remained distinct,
proved by the manner in which he spoke, when brooding thought
demanded sound to break the uneasy silence.

A sharp tap on the door roused him to the present. With
steady tongue he commanded the intruder to enter, and Ser-
geant Pere appeared.

" Come to report the prisoner has received attention, my
Captain," he said, saluting smartly. Under his breath he mut-
tered, " Name of a fish, but he seeks consolation in the wrong
quarter with a vengeance. The remedy is like to prove worse
than the disease." But not a muscle of his countenance be-

62 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

trayed his thoughts.

" 'Tis too good for the dog. Place him in the ' pit ' again
I was a fool to even have him taken from it until he

swings."

" Your orders shall be obeyed, my Captain."

" Of a truth they will, or I know good reason for their dis-
obeyance." He rose from his chair, swaying, with reeling
brain. " Have a care, my man," he stuttered wrathfully. " I
say my orders will all times be obeyed here."

"If the man stay in that place overnight he is like to die of
chill," Sergeant Pere said slowly. ' 'Tis no place for a healthy
one and he is sorely wounded." The young man glared.

" Have a care, old one, I warn you," he shouted, pouring
another mugful, spilled down the lace of his coat in its passage
to his mouth. " You lean too much to the enemies of New
France."

" When I was at Brest under Dieskau," Sergeant Pere re-
monstrated respectfully, after a silence of some moments,
" scores of the English were captured, but he would have scorned
to place the worst of them in such a spot." Then Captain de
Celeron became convulsed with rage.

" Dieskau be d " he shouted. " He was unfit to com-
mand a regiment of swine." Shaking his fist, he went on
thickly, " Have a care, my man, have a care, or into the ' pit '
you go to keep your spy company." Then he sank back mut-
tering, attempting to pour more spirits from the empty flask.

Sergeant Pere remained silent. Years of military discipline
had dulled the fire of his naturally hot temper. Experience
had also taught him many a threatened punishment of the even-
ing was not half so bad the next morning. Besides, his officer
had evidently imbibed too freely, and that was good excuse for
harsh language. Therefore it was often best to remain silent,
but to-night his scar took on a deeper hue. His beloved
Dieskau had received gross insult from a lad who had yet to
win his spurs.

" Name of the Saints, can you not answer me, fool ? " the
young man shouted, growing the more angry at his sub's si-
lence. " Answer me on the instant." And the elder won-
dered at his folly in coming there at such a moment.

" I but await your orders, my Captain," he answered mildly,
and thought to himself, " Had I known he was so deep in liquor,

HOW DE CELERON SOUGHT CONSOLATION 63

I would have waited until he drowned. I am a poor target for
any man's drunken wrath."

" You will not wait long then. Place him in the * pit,' place
him with the devil for aught I care. And take warning —
have a care, I say, or into the ' pit ' you go, and Dieskau with
you, were he here."

Then he fell backward, slipped sideways and appeared to
sleep. Sergeant Pere stood looking on with pity in his eyes,
for the youngster was as a son to his warped affections. Not
that for one moment Captain de Celeron would have acknowl-
edged such relationship, even had his sub been inclined to ad-
vance it. The regard was all on one side. Never openly dis-
played. But when a sergeant of foot has successfully dry-
nursed a cub lieutenant through the several trying stages of
military discipline; has licked into shape the men of his com-
pany, then the inferior, if the superior be anything of a man,
cannot but feel affection for the boy he has assisted to fashion
to a good officer.

The old man sighed heavily. He foresaw much trouble in
store at the outpost were its commander to take to forbidden
liquor. He was also sorry for the young man. He suspected
that his little cabbage had won an undesired lover. She, too,
might find trouble on her hands. Again he sighed. Think-
ing the other had fallen asleep, he was about to go, but his first
stealthy step aroused him, and he waited.

" I say Dieskau was a swine and a breeder of swine," Captain
de Celeron shouted, struggling to his feet, to wave a wild arm
in the air. " A pig-dog German swine, I repeat. I would he
were here to have my opinion of his doings." Suddenly he
sat down, his voice trailing off into meaningless mutterings.
His head fell forward on his chest, and he tumbled headlong
to the floor.

" Name of a fish, but he would die of shame could he take
notice of such antics," the old man muttered. " Had Dieskau
passed at the moment, he would have needed few blankets to
keep him warm when next he slept." Then he half dragged,
half carried his officer to the next room, stripped off his boots,
covered him with a blanket and returned to the outer room.
" Name of a million fishes, to think such storm came of such
a small flask, but perhaps I prate too much of a brave man and
his skill to youngsters who grow jealous of a fame they are little

64 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

like to reach. I will remember." And he wagged his head to
remind himself of a more discreet mention of a beloved com-
mander's name.

Near on an hour passed silently, and still he sat motionless.
He was thinking how to account for the non-appearance of his
superior when the night rounds were made. All within the
Fort knew that duty a self-imposed task of its commander.
The placing of each sentry one of his most particular personal
attentions. Sergeant Pere had often smiled at the care of his
officer. Now he scowled at the thought of it.

" Without there," he shouted as an idea occurred to him.
" Ho, orderly ! " And as the soldier appeared, smiling, " You
have heard some loud talk, my man. An thy face wear that
grin to me again, into the ' pit ' you go for the next ten days.
You hear?" he said, shaking his fist under the terrified sol-
dier's nose. " And remember, if your cackling tongue utter
one word of what your gross mind be filled with, I will have
its roots in the morning, so beware."

" I have heard naught, my Sergeant," the man muttered in a
shaking voice. This old sub, with his scarred face, that wore
at times a devilish look, his grewsome tales of what Dieskau
was wont to do with his soldiers, was feared by every one of the
garrison. " I will be silent," he muttered, and turned to go.

" Stay, imbecile, and allow my orders to sink into the va-
cancy where thy brains should be. Go to the prisoner at my
quarters. Escort him here. On the way, inform the store-
keeper I have need of him. Haste!" And the terrified sol-
dier fled. " That fellow will never dare smile while I am
about," he grinned, well pleased. Then fell to busy thinking.
He had a scheme on hand and was anxious to set it working.

He was sure the orderly would hold his tongue now. He
liked the men to fear him. Knew well that fright kept many
a coward in the ranks when courage would have lent speed to
his feet. Fear of himself would ensure silence as to his officer's
raving. He counted on that to keep from the soldiers news of
Captain de Celeron having lost control of his appetite; a mat-
ter he desired to hide at this particular moment. A critical
period in the history of the outpost, liable to surprise by the
advancing British, who he was sure were near in force.

" Should my little man awake — and one never knows the
freaks of the foolish," he muttered absently — "he might go

HOW DE CELERON SOUGHT CONSOLATION 65

the length of providing more rope than I require. I wonder
will McLeod think well of my purpose?" Adding, slowly,
with a scowl born of past experience in dealing with his crony,
" Doubtless he will prove a mule an the idea not meet with
his approval."

A sounding knock followed and the man he spoke of en-
tered, throwing sharp glances about the dismal room. " Why,
Sergeant," he began quickly, "where is the Captain?"

" Come in, my friend. I have need of your advice."

" But where is Captain de Celeron ? " the other persisted.

" Where he is little likely to recover, for, say — at least
three or four hours. He has dipped deep and requires some
time to dry his wits. You understand ? " And the other
nodded.

' 'Twere best for some of us that he never recovered," he
muttered savagely.

" Nay, nay, McLeod ; I admit he has much to learn in the
conduct of honorable warfare — "

" Aye, and much more in his conduct as a gentleman."

" I repeat, McLeod, he has much to learn in the conduct of
honorable warfare, though at times he has good opinion of his
ability. But, be seated; that is not what I sent for you to
discuss."

The storekeeper came close, leaning down to the level of
his companion's face. " The cursed cub offends my daugh-
ter," he hissed, beating one knotted fist on the rough table top.
" He is a coward — "

" And my superior officer as he is yours," came the stern
reply. " If you have aught to say against him, at least wait
until he is here to defend himself."

McLeod was anything but a coward, and the justice of the
statement appealed to his sense of fairness. " I apologize, Ser-
geant," he muttered ungraciously, " but a father may not stand
calmly by and see his only daughter made a — "

" Easy, easy, my friend. I know. I know. I have seen.
I have understanding of your position. 'Tis fear for the maid
that makes our tongue wag like a shrew's to her late returning
husband. However, our little Captain will do small harm to any
the next few hours." And he yawned chasm-like, motioning the
storekeeper to a chair.

"And after?" the latter questioned. "After that?" he re-

66 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

peated. The face of his companion twisted to a frown of doubt.
"Why cross a bridge till the planks lay beneath the feet?
Forget for a moment our little maid. Answer me this ques-
tion. Where may I find accommodation for a wounded white
man?"

"In your quarters, if he be your friend," came the snappy
answer.

" But, supposing he is unwelcome to my landlord ? "
' 'Tis the stranger you have in mind, Sergeant?"

" Aye, he cannot remain in the * pit.' "
c 'Twas a dog's trick to place him there," McLeod replied
harshly, his rage rising anew at thought of the man who loved
his girl.

" True, and it were a mercy to find him some dryer lodging,"
the old one said, craftily playing on the sympathy of his com-
panion. " I know a man when I see one, and 'tis well to
stand friends with such in this land."

"You would have me give him shelter?"

" He will do no harm to you. He is dumb ! "

" But his eyes may speak, and — well, a mistake on your
part, Sergeant, a misunderstanding as to my daughter's relation
with this man renders his accommodation at our lodging some-
what distasteful to her."

"And her fiance?" Sergeant Pere said surprised.

" He is not," the other said shortly. " That is the cause of
my hesitation."

" But her readiness to assist. Her confusion — "

"Accounted for by finding him half naked on the beach —
also, er — a message you delivered — that is an you did deliver
it?"

" Name of a fish, now I do understand his woodenness," the
Sergeant said hurriedly. " I suppose then he must remain at my
quarters, but 'twould be best he lodged with you. Will you
not take him? One moment," as McLeod, shaking his head,
turned to go. " I hear someone."

The door was thrust open to admit Francis Birnon.

The storekeeper with a rapid glance took in the stalwart ap-
pearance of the young man as he walked to the table, eying
the two with steady gaze. He nodded his approval, was about
to go with a muttered good night, when his crony rose from
his chair.

*

HOW DE CELERON SOUGHT CONSOLATION 67

" Well, my savior of worthless carcasses," he smiled, " here
is a host for awhile. He will provide you shelter. Go with
him. Good night to you both." And he turned again to his
chair, as though the matter was settled to the complete satis-
faction of all.

McLeod flushed angrily. His first impulse to refuse hos-
pitality. He hesitated, scowled at the grinning Sergeant, then
said slowly, " Come, stranger. This gentleman commands here
for the present, and I must obey orders. Come." And with-
out a word he stalked outside, Birnon following with some
hesitation, for the manner of his reception by his host was, to
say the least, cold.

When the door closed, the old soldier lay back in his chair
and roared his merriment.

" Name of a fish," he gasped, wiping the tears from his eyes,
" but the storekeeper is vexed. My romance was shattered,
eh? Well, I will build it anew. When I so do, the lovers
shall love to my order. The father is angry — well, I did not
build his spare carcass or his surly mind. Had I so done, he
should have proved more amenable to my purpose. As 'tis, an
my little cabbage is not his fiancee now, she shall be in the
future. She shall have opportunity to learn her lesson this
very night, or — " Then he muttered, "I wonder do I do
right to play with fate? "

Quietly he rose, stole on tiptoe across the room, peeped in
at his snoring officer, who lay as one dead to the world. Then
he passed out under the silent stars, whose twinkling gleams
were the only light be needed to do the duty of his superior
lying drunken as any tippling Missassaga, incapable of service
to New France.

CHAPTER VII

HOW A MAID DARED MUCH FOR A MAN

WABACOMMEGAT, flying from imagined pursuit
through the depths of the leafy forest, presently emerged
from its shelter, coming out to the grassy sweep on whose sadly
trampled surface, were pitched the tepees of his tribe. Furious
at his treatment, enraged at the insult offered to his Chief's
dignity before the crowd, his body sore from the vigorous
application of a heavy pair of feet, shod in yet heavier leather,
he was in the mood for mad doings.

His son sat at the door of his lodge, and with a grunt, he in-
vited him to enter. " Senascot," he said harshly, " you love
our allies, the French ? " And the son stared to find his father
sober; such event so rare, he pondered long his answer.

" Senascot desires safety for his people," he said at last, and
a silence settled down in the foul tent, broken only by the mur-
murings of distant water, and the sighing of the breeze in the
lofty pine tops overhead. " Safety for our people/' he added
softly, and the father leaped to his feet, stoicism forgotten at
thought of injury.

" Senascot," he said harshly, " I, a, chief — and the son of a
hundred chiefs ruling their Tribe of the Crane, long ere these
white dogs came to steal our lands and destroy our people, was
this day received with blows. Blows! I say. With many
kicks from that child of the Evil One — he of the scarred face.
Wabacommegat, your chief and father, was driven from the
lodges of his allies with blows. Will my son — my only son,
stand tamely by and hear of the shame heaped on the head of
this father ? " As suddenly as he had risen he sat, squatting
cross-legged. From under his shaggy eyebrows, keenly regarded
the features of his son, that from their rigidity might have been
carved from marble.

" Will my father continue to heap shame on the heads of his
people for the sake of the strongwater these white dogs bring? "

Wabacommegat stared, silent, astounded at the daring of one
so young, venturing to criticise a chief, so much the more ex-

68

HOW A MAID DARED MUCH FOR A MAN 69

perienced. " A son is brave indeed to speak such words to a
father," he growled, and Senascot bounded to his feet, with
eyes that blazed passionate hatred.

" That son would be a coward if he sought to hide truth,"
he said sternly, " even to a father, who robs his tribe for the
sake of such strongwater." Then he waited.

For a moment he expected a knife blade seeking his heart.
Save for Rose of the Hills, whose very footsteps in the grass
he worshiped, he would have been content to die. The miser-
able life led by the remnant of his people, the men degraded
to beggary, their women debauched by the soldiery, all for the
sake of the hated liquor, was a daily misery to him. But,
though these evils were openly apparent, to mention them, and
above all lay the blame for their happening on the shoulders
of his father, required much courage. So thought Wabacom-
megat, scowling under the truthful accusation.

" Senascot," he said, repressing his anger, " I alone am not
to blame. From this moment not one drop shall pass my
lips." As the young brave remained silent, for these morning
sober tales were ancient to his ears, " My words are the words
of truth. Revenge I will have upon these white dogs who
steal our lands and insult our women."

The son stared deep into the eyes of the author of his being.
He thought he saw truth there. Leaping to his feet, his chest
heaving with excitement, he said brokenly, " Does my father
plan revenge for his injuries, our young men will be first to
win scalps and victory. But one thing do I ask. The stranger
— him we carried to the Fort. He must be mine. I will
cause him to wish the sun had never risen on the day of his
birth." And the father muttered words of approval.

" Good," he said harshly ; " the stranger is yours, but scarred
face — he is mine. He, too, shall wish the sun had died ere
he saw its light. Come! We will plan. These men are
few. They trust us. We are their friends. We will gather
the young men together, and this night leap in on them — and
then!"

Together the two sat, eagerly perfecting their horrid plans.
The stealthy advance toward the Fort, the bloody massacre
of all but two who were to be reserved for a more awful deed.
The giving of the buildings to the flames, that should consume
the slaughtered fragments of their defenders. One desired sat-

THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

isf action on a soldier who had robbed him of savage honor; th
other, revenge on a stranger, who had stolen the affections of
his bride. Senascot had not the slightest doubt that Rose of
the Hills loved the man whose hand she had confessed to
fondling near on the whole of one long summer morning. For
this reason he was ready to join with his father.

Had the two moved outside they had seen a stealthy figure
creep quietly away from the rear of the tepee where they sat.
And both, had they dreamed of her errand, would without hesi-
tation have stabbed keen knives deep into her heaving round
bosom. Rose of the Hills had heard horror planned. As she
stole cautiously away through the swift-descending gloom, her
throbbing brain was filled with but one thought — safety for
her white man.

Silently she reached the shelter of the forest. Ran swiftly
through its dusky spaces, her heart wild with apprehension that
some evil shape, appearing with descent of the sun, leap out on
her to tear her slim body to a thousand unrecognizable frag-
ments. Stormily her bosom heaved with the speed of her rac-
ing footsteps, as she ran and ran until the huge trees thinned
out to saplings and they gave place to a spreading underbrush.
Then she paused to regain breath and think on a course of
action.

The lights of the Fort twinkled bravely in the short twi-
light. Smoke from the two clay chimneys ascended straight
skyward on the still air. All was peaceful. No thought of
slaughter seemed within miles. Then she hurried to the gate,
beating sharply on the wood. A startled sentry peered over
the wall, demanding her errand.

"What does the Missassaga woman do here at this hour?"
he said in jeering tones, dangling a lantern on the end of a
thong to the level of her face.

" The Captain," she answered bravely, though the lewd
manner of the fellow alarmed her more than all thought of
evil spirits. " I must see him." But the sentry roared his
laughter.

" He is better employed, girl. Return to-morrow, then he
may find time for you." With a sneer he drew up his lantern
and disappeared.

The girl gave a frightened cry as she crouched at the gate
side. What to do, she had no idea. Return to her lodge

:he

HOW A MAID DARED MUCH FOR A MAN 71

through the blackness of the forest was fearful. Worse would
happen to her should Wabacommegat and his young men come
to find her giving warning to an enemy. Long she waited.
The sun sank to rest beneath a dull canopy of cloud, that
bristled with vivid lightning. The thunder growled angrily
at intervals, and the maid became terrified. Manitou was
angry at her errand, and desperately did she cling the closer
to the wooden gate for some protection. Thoughts of her end
at the hands of Wabacommegat, Senascot's brutality did they
find her, caused despair to her mind. Piteously she cried for
admittance, and the sentry losing patience with her stubborn-
ness leaned over.

" Ho, there, girl," he said roughly, " cease such howling.
I will see what I may do." And again he disappeared.
Hurrying across the darkness of the stockade, he stumbled into
Sergeant Pere setting forth alone. " There is a maid seeking
admittance at the gate," he muttered awkwardly, at a loss to
give good account for his absence from duty. His face burned
at the stinging reply.

" Was there none other to bear her message, save thy fool's
face?"

" She desires to see Captain de Celeron."

" So, and your post was at the mercy of the devil knows
who, eh? An I had you at Brest, I would make you ac-
quainted with a lady whose introduction would cause a sore-
ness to your vile carcass not easily forgotten. The gunner's
daughter remains long in the memory of those who had the mis-
fortune to become acquainted writh her. Lead on, idiot.
Where is this girl? What does she require? Stay, I will see
for myself. Fools may not be trusted with a woman."

Sergeant Pere was not in the best possible humor. He had
been thinking. Had he done right, as an officer of New
France, in allowing the spy the freedom of his command?
Yet, was he a spy? Shaking his head doubtfully he paced
along. His was a peculiar position. The man had saved his
life and he was grateful; willing to assist him to the best of
his ability. But now the responsibility of the safety of the
Fort rested on his own shoulders, and though he liked the
young fellow — well the point of view had changed. Another
matter troubled him. McLeod had seemed too willing to offer
hospitality. Of course, at first, he had hesitated, but, after,

72 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

the two had gone out together seeming quite satisfied. Were
they in league together? Was it all part of a plan to betray
Fort Toronto?

Then he laughed sourly. " McLeod is too old a bird," he
muttered. " The other — Name of a fish, but I know him
to be of gentle birth. A sheep's head may see that. Well,
'tis done, and now to see this girl."

"Who seeks admittance at this hour?" he asked, cautiously
unbarring the gate. As the girl stumbled to her feet, blinking
in the lantern light — " Rose of the Hills, what do you
here?"

" Where Captain," she stammered, taking one quick step
past the two. Detained forcibly but gently by a heavy hand,
she tried to escape. " Must see Captain," she urged, and
Sergeant Pere grinned.

" Wabacommegat was not long in making complaint," he
laughed. " I will hear the news, my girl." But she slipped
from his grasp, running toward the storehouse with silent feet.

" Name of a fish, but I am more shepherd than soldier this
night," the Sergeant muttered. With a wrathful command
to see the gate be closely barred, he hurried after the maid,
who stood peering in through the storehouse window. " The
Captain is not to be found there, girl," he commenced, but his
eyes were set on a strange scene inside the room, and he
whistled. " Name of a fish, but there are two of them learn-
ing the lesson I set for one, and there is but one book."

Rose of the Hills stood rigid, her eyes watching every move-
ment of her friend Madeline, tenderly bathing a wound in
the stranger's face. She intuitively understood what must
happen, for the man smiled and his nurse betrayed agitation,
as the bowl near slipped from her fingers. With a moan the
maid turned toward Sergeant Pere, and he, too, understood,
for he tenderly patted her shoulder, endeavoring to take her
away.

"Come, maiden," he said softly; "what is the errand?"
But again she eluded his kind hands, running to the gateway,
beating at the senseless wood. " Now, listen," he said some-
what sharply; "the Captain is not to be found here. Come,
I say, 'tis shameful to see so fine a maid showing tantrums
in the open. If you have business with my commandant, and
none else will serve, I will see what may be done. Come! I

HOW A MAID DARED MUCH FOR A MAN 73

will take you to his lodging."

Rose of the Hills but half understood the rapid sentences,
though the word lodging sounded as a place of refuge to her
distress. With head bent low on a heaving bosom she fol-
lowed her silent guide, and he, watching closely, noted she
carefully avoided even as much as one glance toward the
storehouse windows. They came to the guardhouse; entered,
to find the silence murdered by most unmusical snoring.

" Now, my girl," Sergeant Pere said kindly, " what is this
message? "

For a moment the girl stpod silent, her face the picture of
grief. Staring, she waited, until the old man said patiently,
"What is amiss? Never mind, I will think myself answered.
I know. Now what is this message ? " and she started, coming
to his side.

"Captain ill?" she asked, and a troubled look spread over
the scarred face.

" Yes, ill of the same sickness Wabacommegat affects at
times. You understand? Name of a fish, but your wits are
here after all."

Rose of the Hills described in rapid pantomime the actions
of a drunken man. Then she came closer, whispered slowly,
" You Captain now ? " And the other stared.

" Yes," he nodded with a grim smile, " an there may be
worse."

" My people bad," came the impressive whisper. " Waba-
commegat bad. Senascot wicked. Come to-night and — kill.
You understand? What you do?" impatiently, with a stamp
of the foot.

"Do, maiden?" Sergeant Pere repeated vacantly. "Do?"
he added, tapping the table top with nervous fingers; "I do
not know."

For the moment his blood turned to ice within his veins.
An Indian rising; his officer drunken to senselessness, and but
fifteen soldiers, himself, a storekeeper and a wounded stranger
to repel the attack. With two women to care for! There
were near on a hundred Missassagas in camp close at hand.
What chance had such tiny force as he possessed of defense
from brutal slaughter? None that he could see. He sat lost
in thought, until a gentle hand upon his arm aroused him to
the present.

74 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

" What you do? " she said quickly. " What you do? Bad
men come. Take fort and kill all." The touch of contempt
in her voice suddenly restored the old soldier to all his facul-
ties.

" Art sure of the news, maiden ? " he asked sternly.

" Wabacommegat sat with Senascot. Rose of the Hills
heard. This day. What you do now ? " '

"If thy tidings be true, girl, we are like to die. Now, what
makes you turn on your own people ? "

" Wabacommegat beat Rose of the Hills. He bad man.
I come. He kill me when he come to-night."

There was something in her tone of voice that made Ser-
geant Pere pause ere he asked suspiciously, " What for ? Why
did the chief strike you ? "

" Rose of the Hills came to his tent. The white stranger
was there. Wabacommegat angry — " Here she hesitated,
dropping her head upon a heaving bosom. From the expres-
sion of her face, the trembling of her slender limbs, her com-
panion understood the cause of her visit. The safety of the
stranger, not her own fears of death, had brought her.

" So, he had already discovered a nurse," he muttered.
" Name of a fish, but he is a very wizard with the women."
Aloud, he said with a rueful shake of the head, " Maiden, I
fear me there is a rough road ahead for your little feet, but if
I live, I will do what I may to ease the way. Now, wait here
until I return. I must to the storekeeper. He is the most
sensible of the idiots who reside with me in this place."

He hurried from the room, and the girl cast herself down
in his chair, flinging both arms out on the table in tragic
loneliness.

The old soldier ran across the stockade, and without wait-
ing to knock quickly pushed open the door of the storekeeper's
dwelling.

" I need you, McLeod, at once," he said sharply, and turned
to return, but not before his keen glance fell on the stranger,
stretched out upon a couch, covered with an embroidered quilt.

Father and daughter had been sitting before a small log
fire. Both started to their feet. A battered volume falling
from the storekeeper's knee was the only sound to break the
silence for near on a minute.

"What is it?" he asked. "Is there robbery afoot?"

HOW A MAID DARED MUCH FOR A MAN 75

And for answer Sergeant Pere grimly nodded.

" Not yet," he replied sourly, " but there may be an we
take not precious good care." Under his breath, for he had no
desire to unduly alarm his little maid, he added, " A robbery
of hair we can little afford."

Madeline stooped to recover the precious book. Tenderly
she wiped the treasured volume. Charlevoix's " Histoire de
la Nouvelle France," the only printed pages entirely her own
possession, to carefully replace it on the table. " One friend
must not be badly treated because of another's intrusion," she
thought, as with a smile she waited.

" Come, McLeod, I need you at once," Sergeant Pere said
again; and as he saw the start of alarm on the girl's features,
he added kindly, " he is not desired, my little one. 'Tis your
father, I must have with me at once."

Without another word he walked out, and the storekeeper
kissed his daughter tenderly, bidding her for certain to bar
the door until he returned. Then he followed, most uneasy
of mind. He suspected Captain de Celeron wished a word
or two with him, and he was in no mood for battle.

Madeline obeyed the instructions of her parent to the letter.
Then she seated herself before the fire and gave her mind to
fancies the most charming. Dreams of a fairy prince were
at last, perhaps, to come true. This wornout stranger,
though clad in the roughest of garbs, she instinctively knew
to be of gentle birth. Womanly intuition was sure, without
the added proof of speech and manner. Though he was ac-
cused of spying, should now have occupied the " pit," she
knew he was honest. Entirely different to those selling secrets
for a living. Not the sort of man stooping to vile things.
And suddenly the brush of hope tinted her fair cheeks with a
glorious hue, the color painted only by tht master whose name
is love.

Strange to say, the girl discovered the features of her
stranger exactly fitted a vacant frame in the picture gallery
of her mind. His face a perfect copy of the original she had
dreamed of, as girls will. And as she sat alone — for Francis
Birnon slept as one lost to the world — her heart beat soft for
the tired object of her dreaming. The fire was not alto-
gether to blame for the roses in her cheeks. Maids are thought
bold who do the asking. They rarely do, save in the pages

76

THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

of romance. But had the sleeper awakened at the moment
the light of love in her eyes might have made him bold. Her
gladness touched the tinder of love to the heap of affection
waiting ready in his bosom for that divine spark.

tit,

.

CHAPTER VIII

APTAIN DE CELERON FINDS ONE MAN TOO MUCH FOR HIM

WHEN Norman McLeod entered the guardhouse for
the second time that fateful evening, he was astonished
to discover the Indian maid occupying the chair devoted to
the uses of his Captain. And more than surprised at the utter
dejection displayed on her usually smiling features, hurriedly
raised from the depths of her outstretched arms at his abrupt
entrance.

"What does she here? What ails her?" he asked, ad-
dressing Sergeant Pere, frowning silent his pity.

" Inquire of her," he said short. " She has a strange tale."

The storekeeper stared amazed. Then the sound of loud
snoring met his ear. " For the moment I thought he had sent
for me," he sneered. " But I hear him groaning. A fine
commander to restore a dying trade."

" He is no better, McLeod. Is not like to be for some
hours. Yet I did not drag you from home to prate of his
pranks. This maid has more important news to my mind.
Come, maiden," he added gently, " relate your story to this
good man."

The girl rose from her seat. Came close to McLeod, who
regarded her with some doubt. He had dealings with the
Missassaga every day of his life. According to his experience
they were thieves, rogues, robbers and liars, both male and
female, even to the veriest infants crawling to his storehouse
begging for sugar. " Well, Rose," he said with a smile,
"what story am I brought to hear at such an hour?" And
the girl hesitated for the fraction of a second.

" Wabacommegat come. His young men come. They kill
all. This man, he know," she said, pointing to the sergeant
waiting with folded arms, anxiously observing the effect upon
his friend.

"Ho! ho!" laughed McLeod derisively. "They come —
if that is all, I am better employed at home." With a shrug

77

78 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

he turned' to go, but the old soldier caught him by the coat
sleeve.

" You are pleased to be merry, my friend," he muttered.
" Think you she would venture here without good reason ? "
And again the storekeeper roared his merriment. Here was a
pretty tale to tell of the brave Sergeant Pere. He of all men
to be scared by the frightened story of a woman. One glance
he gave at the face of his crony, and at its comical aspect of
doubt roared the louder. But Rose of the Hills grew angry.
With a frown she said impressively, " White man laugh.
White man see. Wabacommegat come. Then white man not
laugh — he die."

Contemptuously she stared at the mocker of news, then
suddenly seated herself at the table, sobbing as though her
heart would burst. The storekeeper as suddenly ceased his
merriment. With an air of apology, he said slowly, " Never
mind, Rose." Then to the Sergeant, " Pardon, but these
chicken-hearted Missassagas to storm the Fort! 'Tis enough
to kill a man with laughter even to think on it. Had you
said Iroquois, I should have feared. As for these dogs who
daily swill their lives away, who live on us — why man, I tell
you 'tis rank nonsense, such talk."

The Sergeant shook his head. Used as he was to warfare
with the savage Iroquois, who scalped women and children
without mercy, tortured their tender bodies for the sheer
pleasure of the agonized cries produced by slow fires, and
splinters of pinewood inserted in soft flesh, the reception given
to the grim tidings of the girl amazed him. " McLeod," he
said angrily, " 'tis surely ignorance of these red devils that
makes you indifferent. Name of a fish, but these brutes are
to be feared by such a handful as we, be they Iroquois or Mis-
sassagas."

" My word on it, friend, the last-named would sell their
souls for firewater; but peril their bodies for it — nay. I
have lived among them too long — know them too well. The
first — well, I would not trust my scalp among the least of
them."

The old man frowned. To him a savage was a savage,
capable of the most hideous atrocity, no matter what the totem
he painted on his copper-colored carcass. He stood, thinking
of the many tales he had heard. Of Monongahela, where

ONE MAN TOO MUCH FOR HIM 79

hundreds of reeking British scalps were brandished in the
faces of French officers, sickened to the soul by horror,
yet powerless to stay the lust of slaughter they had incited.
And he, too, had fought in battles with the redmen — ii
battles they could be named — where savages fell on white
men, unused to forest death-traps laid for their unskilled per-
sons. Such enemies were to be regarded with suspicion; their
slightest animosity guarded against with every precaution.

McLeod was quick to note the volumes of doubt on his
crony's face. " See," he said, " I know these Missassagas.
They are cowards — drunken dogs to a man. Their women
— bah! — worse. I know them well — "

" No white man know Indian," the girl suddenly inter-
jected, and the storekeeper admitted that truth. " This night
they come. What you do? " She shook his rough coat sleeve
vehemently.

Sergeant Pere was very doubtful despite the assurance of
McLeod. " Child," he said, " I would I had the truth of
the matter. An they come, we will welcome them warmly."
Seeing the wretchedness on her face, he led her to the chair.
" Rest awhile. I must out to the walls. McLeod, you re-
main until I return. I shall not be long gone." And without
another word he walked heavily out.

The storekeeper took two or three turns up and down the
room. Knowing well the boasting propensities of the Indian
in liquor, he paid slight attention to the warning of the maid.
He thought her tribe had secured strongwater from some un-
authorized source — possibly stolen it from his stores — and
had been relating wonderful tales of what they would do were
the Fort to fall into their hands. The girl had overheard
and, becoming frightened, rushed off to warn her friends.

" The Missassagas fight," he said aloud, laughing harshly ;
" their hides be too precious to them." And Rose of the Hills,
her eyes flashing angrily at his cynical unbelief, ran to his side.

" Wabacommegat come. This night," she said, and the
storekeeper halted.

" Why do you turn against them ? " he asked suspiciously.
" What have they done that one of their own brood should
peck out their eyes? "

The girl shook her head. She was unable to convince this
man, so harsh in manner. He would not think a maiden

8o THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

capable of sacrifice for a stranger. Would not understand.
But she was mistaken. Had she only known, beneath his
crusty manner lay the crumb of tenderness to all women,
were they of copper color or of whiter hue. Then again, she
had little desire to save him or his daughter. Neither did
the narrow-chested soldier find a place in her thoughts. The
stranger, he must be saved from danger. If these two men
refused to listen she must find the commander of the Fort.

She knew he would listen. He was always on the alert
against treachery of his allies, her tribe. Had he not com-
manded that every one of the Missassaga be without the stock-
ade at sundown, on pain of forfeiting their scanty ration of
brandy, did they dare disobey? She knew he lay in the next
room. How to gain his ear, rouse him to listen, puzzled her
vaguely.

A thought flashed across her mind. On the instant she flew
over the floor, scream after scream leaving her lips, until the
storekeeper thought her mad. He hurried to her side. Then
stopped short.

In the doorway of the adjoining room stood Captain de
Celeron. His hair tousled, his uniform coat on all awry.
Clutching at the doorpost, he stared from man to girl, the
light of drunken madness in his blazing eyes. " Thousand
fiends," he stuttered, " but someone pays for this intrusion.
Am I to be disturbed in the privacy of my own rooms? By
all the devils in hell, I will not have such work." Then his
eyes fell on the storekeeper standing stock still in the center
of the floor. " Do you dare? " he shouted. " You! "

Rose of the Hills stood, near frightened to death at the
storm she had purposely aroused. Hiding her face she tried
to close her ears to the blasphemies of the young officer, roused
to&a sudden fury at the impertinence of the storekeeper in en-
tering unbidden to his rooms. Then the outer door opened
quietly and Sergeant Pere appeared, hesitated, thoroughly un-
easy at the sight of a man he had thought safe to sleep the
clock around.

Quickly making up his mind he walked forward, saluting
respectfully. " Your pardon, my Captain," he said, " but the
hour is late. Would it not be better that you retire, leaving
me to deal with this fellow ? " But his only reply was a sud-
den blow that swept him bodily to the floor. A shouting to

ONE MAN TOO MUCH FOR HIM 81

the guards without to enter.

" Arres' that man ! " Captain de Celeron raved, near foam-
ing at the mouth. " To the ' pit ' with him. Guard !
Guard ! " But none answered his frenzied call, for the very
good reason that Sergeant Pere had warned the soldiers to
stay without on pain of instant punishment. Then with a
wild rush the young man was across the floor, seized McLeod
by his middle, struggled to throw him roughly to the boards.

Together the two fought madly, up and down the room.
The chair was kicked to one side, the table overturned, the
copper candlesticks flattened by heavy boots. In the darkness
came the sound of sobbing breaths, vicious cries and the noise
of heavy blows dull thudding on bruised flesh.

Rose of the Hills crouched out of the way in one corner,
while Sergeant Pere groped over the floor, seeking to find a
candle, that by its light he might separate the combatants.
Just as he succeeded in making a spark with flint and steel, by
the flicker of the flattened candle he saw the storekeeper thrust
his opponent heavily backward, the head of the latter striking
the rough boards with a sickening crash.

Then as the weak flame grew brighter, he caught a side
glance of McLeod standing over the fallen man, horror in his
face, and he hurried to kneel on the floor by the side of his
officer.

" Name of a fish, but this is a mess," he said ; and, as Mc-
Leod nodded, " Head and boards came too sudden together,
I fear he is badly hurt. We will place him on the bed."

A fifteen-minute strenuous labor by both men followed.
For all their efforts Captain de Celeron remained unconscious,
his only sign of life the heaving of a white chest and the
stertorous breathing from ghastly lips.

" I trust he will come to, but, by 'all the Saints, he wears
the face of many a one I have seen lie on the field of battle."
The storekeeper started at the words. His face turned ashen
gray as his companion went on, "We must try brandy. He
has had one bath, but another is needed now." And the pair
silently rubbed the senseless man until their arms ached of a
fruitless task.

" I was not altogether to blame," McLeod muttered.
" You know that, Sergeant. You must know it," he said
fiercely, grasping the arm of his companion with such force

82 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

that the old man yelled.

" Is that reason why you should cut the flesh from my
bones ? " he asked with a scowl. " Name of a fish, it was he
who commenced the trouble, and were he a common soldier
should taste the ' pit ' the instant he wakes. That is," he
added slowly, " an he ever does wake."

" Blessed Saints, Sergeant," McLeod stammered, " he must
recover. He must. God ! am I to be his murderer, too ? "

" I trust he will for your sake," came the grim reply, and
the other, recognizing all that lay hidden for the future behind
that curt answer, groaned aloud. His daughter! What of
her future with himself a common felon, the murderer of an
officer whose life 'was sacred to the welfare of New France!

Staring blindly ahead, he stumbled from the room. Out
to the blackness of the night, that was brilliant as the midday
sun compared to the gloom of his dreadful thought.

Sergeant Pere made no attempt to follow. Wagging his
head solemnly, he seated his lank body on the bed where lay
his officer, white and still as any wax figure uncolored by the
deft fingers of the artist. " Name of a fish," he muttered to
himself, " but the storekeeper is in deep water. Even though
I bear witness to his innocence of crime, it will go hard with
the pair of us, for I commanded the men to stay without, and
who will bear witness to my honesty of purpose?" His
pursed-up lips drew a long breath. That order given to save
his superior from open shame was like to cost something he
little cared to think on. " Name of a fish, were Dieskau here
now — " then savagely, " Aye, were he so, I would be taking
my last pleasure in a swing too high for comfort."

" What white man do now ? " a soft voice whispered in his
ear, and he jumped from the bed to discover Rose of the Hills
at his elbow.

" Maiden," he replied angrily, " when I am meditating on
my end, I care not to be rudely disturbed. As for what I
am to do now, I can but wait as may you also. I have done
everything possible to guard against surprise. Seat yourself."
And the girl obediently obeyed.

Together the two remained in the dim room, the silence
broken only by the fitful breathing of the injured man.

'Twas not like himself," Sergeant Pere muttered thought-
fully. " But these women have much to answer for in this
world to which the priests say they first brought sin."

CHAPTER IX

TWO SAVE ANOTHER WHO HAS DONE ONE MUCH INJURY

NORMAN McLEOD, stumbling out to the darkness of
early morning, moved with unsteady feet over the ankle-
deep dust of the stockaded enclosure. Blindly he walked,
until the hoarse challenge of a watchful sentry recalled him
to where he wandered. A hastily muttered word assured the
soldier, and he turned back to the storehouse.

" Twice ! twice ! " he muttered, leaning against the log
wall. " Two murders on my sinful soul. God ! Will
there ever be an end to this senseless shedding of blood ? "

A groan burst from him. Passionate remorse caused his
hands to clench, until the pain of interlocked fingers forced
remembrance of what he did. Then the oval face of his
daughter appeared swift to mind. Again he groaned, mut-
tering, " Madeline, my child, what did I do to bring you
among these savage men." The thought of her, alone, un-
protected in the wilds of New France, should disaster over-
take himself, was bitter agony.

Suddenly the bandaged features of the stranger, his sunny
eyes and stalwart appearance, found a place in his distorted
vision, and a sharp bolt of parental jealousy pierced his stern
heart. " Perhaps 'tis for the best, but hard — hard," he mut-
tered. " I should be pleased in place of being angry with
him, but she is my one ewe lamb — my one and only comfort
in this desolate place."

Aimlessly he commenced a restless pacing, up and down
beneath the wide-arched vault above strewn with brilliant
stars, shining as diamond dust on a velvet pall. The wind
murmured in the pine tops, of dead hopes and a forbidding
future; of a buried past, whose specter horror was suddenly
raised to confront a man, striving for years to hide that
shrouded figure deep within the vaults of forgetfulness.

His eyes sought the stars. Wild passionate pleadings
poured from his lips, from the depths of an agonized heart,
that his precious daughter might be permitted happiness.

83

84 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

That she might be spared evil things. The words, hurried
entreaties to the Unknown God who ruled all things. Then
he fell on his knees to sob like a little child.

Obsessed by anguish, as many another father before his day
and like many who were to follow after, he forgot that in the
yielding of a daughter to a stranger he was but following the
sacrificial footsteps of every man since Adam. Though he
prayed for a daughter's safety, he rebelled against the idea of
relinquishing her to the arms of another. For he knew only
too well that, though his precious one had but set eyes on the
man in the early morning, afternoon had hurried love to her
heart. That it was written, the father was powerless to pre-
vent the lavishing of a daughter's love upon a total stranger.

"What blind chance brought the lad hither?" he muttered,
rising to scatter the sweat from his brow. " And what
blinder chance caused De Celeron to attack me? 'Twas little
like an officer of New France — still less like him. Was it
not enough he sought to rob me of my girl and had to be kept
at a pike's distance; but that the sin of his murder should
rest upon my guilty soul ? "

Again he resumed his restless pacing, under stars mocking
his somber mood with their twinkling gleams of hope, until
unhappy thought demanded respite in muttered speech.

" 'Tis not like him to drink," he said aloud, thinking of the
young officer's sober rule. " He ever disliked my drunken
reign, as he named it, of the trappers and the Missassaga.
What should make a brave man turn madman? Fear of re-
call? Aye, that must be it. That alone."

As he stood deep in the wall's shadow, the door of his lodg-
ing opened. Madeline with the prisoner came out, their fig-
ures, very close together, illuminated by the oblong of light
from the candle-lit room.

" Father is long gone," he heard the girl say with some
alarm. " I trust he is in no trouble with his officer." Then
she hesitated. For one of the chief causes of Captain de
Celeron's anger toward her parent was at her side, and not
for worlds would she have the young man think he was un-
welcome.

He bowed his understanding of her hesitation. He, too,
was fearful the storekeeper had come to harm through the
granting of a night's lodging to a supposed spy. He was about

TWO SAVE ANOTHER 85

to reenter the room, seeking paper to make known his willing-
ness to go in search of his delayed host — if needs be to return
to the " pit," when — a blood-curdling yell murdered the
silence of early morning.

The sound of a piercing scream as of a man in a death
agony rent the air. Madeline, with a frightened cry, crept
close to the side of her companion for protection.

In a second, pandemonium reigned within the stockade.
Ferocious yells from savage throats, intermingled with shouts
of soldiers surprised and taken in the rear; gasping sobs of
strong men smitten to mother earth. Then the crackle of
musketry seeking repayment for the silent knife, as the garrison
bravely sought to repel the assaulting hordes.

Birnon carried the half-fainting girl inside. Hurriedly
swept over both candles as he passed the table to lay her on
the couch. In a moment he had barred the door and returned
to her side, seeking to soothe her terror by repeated smooth-
ing of a white forehead wet with the dew of fright. And she
discovered a wonderful sense of comfort in the touch of his
strong but gentle fingers.

The sound of hoarse yelling, the banging of muskets, filled
the room. The young man, anxious to discover the cause of
all the alarm, hurried to the window, peering out to the
blackness with straining eyes. The pearl-gray tints of early
dawn struggled with night. In the gray shadows, his vision
began slowly to take in the scene.

Confusion appeared to be master. White men and red
struggled furiously together. Flashes of crimson from fire-
arms discharged at random illuminated swarthy features,
painted with hate and the lust of slaughter. The stunning
reports added to the turmoil. The garrison seemed trying to
keep together, in the effort to retreat compactly toward the
storehouse. Foremost in their ranks towered the burly store-
keeper, wielding a musket, butt first. On the hither side
raged the lean Sergeant, his short sword sending many a tall
brave seeking the road to a last home.

These things he noted and was about to go, when a soft
voice said, " I pray you, do not leave me." With imploring
gesture of two slender hands, " I beseech you to stay. What
is to become of me — alone ? " He soothed her alarm with
a gentle touch on a rounded shoulder. Then moved to the

86 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

door, the girl following quickly to hold him back. But point-
ing to the bars, he motioned her to secure the door when he
should be gone. Cautiously he opened the wooden frame,
stepped outside and disappeared.

The girl mechanically obeyed. With wild eyes she hurried
to the window, watching his movements. She saw him run,
trip, snatch something from the ground, then join himself to
the little band, fighting for dear life's sake. And she prayed
for him. Begged he might be spared, as he faded into a sway-
ing mob of shouting, struggling fighters.

So crowded was the attacking force, each impeded the other.
Indian wounded Indian even, in the mad onrush. One or two
of the soldiers, robbed of their arms, seized an opponent,
wrestling with frenzied force to escape a deadly scalping knife.
Sergeant Pere shouted noisy encouragement, at times threaten-
ing punishment to each and every one did they give way and
he live to know of such disgrace. McLeod, at his elbow, gave
slashing blows, but silent he was as the very death he dealt to
all within the compass of his flail-like arms.

Suddenly a piercing yell rose above the din and the attack
ceased as by magic. The Indians melted into the shadows of
the stockade wall.

"To me! To my lodging!" shouted the storekeeper, tak-
ing swift advantage of the lull. But, only eight of the sol-
diers succeeded in gaining the much-needed shelter. As the
door was banged and barred tight, a demon chorus of disap-
pointment rose on the quiet air.

Francis Birnon, in the confusion of the retreat, observed one
soldier running toward the guardhouse. Without thinking,
he followed; reached the door on the other's heels, to silently
enter a gloom, black as the nether world. He slid on one side
as the wood crashed together, and a harsh voice greeted his
ears.

' 'Twas as I said 'twould be; McLeod found his Missas-
saga tame dogs turned wolves," he heard Sergeant Pere say
savagely. He was about to make his presence known, when
knotted fingers clutched his throat, and he stumbled, fell,
surprised by the sudden attack.

For a full minute, each sought the upper hand. With one
supreme effort, the younger man succeeded in releasing him-
self, and rolled his antagonist over on his back. Then he

TWO SAVE ANOTHER 87

knelt on a laboring chest, as lights flashed down the passage,
revealing Rose of the Hills, horrified, fear heaving her bosom
to painful movement.

" Name of a fish, 'tis my stranger," gasped the old one.
" Remove your carcass," he added in surly tones. " 'Tis not
my nature to relish the part of under dog." He struggled to
his feet, aided by his late antagonist, who dumbly strove to
apologize for a former harsh treatment. " Name of a fish,"
he said, grinning, " 'tis naught. When I was at Brest, under
Dieskau, every day we killed a friend as relaxation to break
a siege monotony. Phut ! " he ended angrily, " I am at it
again.'* And swore most viciously. He was vexed to think
the name of his former commander lay ready to his lips, too
prone to prating of bygone days. " Light here," he called
harshly. " We must make all fast ere those beasts come to
their meal."

Rose 'of the Hills smiled. Not the faintest trace of fear
was on her features. Why should she be afraid? The man
she came to save was at her side, sound and well, and she
moved about quite happy in a paradise where furious men
waited to murder and secure revenge.

Together the three moved from casement to casement, bar-
ring their wooden shutters. Once, as they moved by a window,
a whistling scream flashed near the girl's ear. But her impas-
sive features never changed. Not a sign of fear did she be-
tray, and the younger man patted her shoulder gently, greatly
approving her courage. With a smile on her lips she turned,
her dark eyes speaking many things her gentle tongue had no
time to whisper.

Sergeant Pere evidently heard the sound of the bullet. Its
noise seemed to startle his composure. A quick flicker of ap-
prehension crossed his scarred face. " Name of a fish," he
muttered, " an he smiles at this savage. Were it Madeline —
now, I might find occasion to grin, but this Missassaga maid? "
His mind was filled with doubt of the young man as he care-
fully bolted the last shutter into place.

" Missassagas come too soon," Rose of the Hills said with
a smile, as though the assault had been an exhibition of mock
warfare given for her own particular entertainment. " They
bad men."

" Yes," surlily responded the old soldier, " my fears were

88 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

well grounded. Had McLeod — " He suddenly ended, his
face flaming red at the forgetfulness of a friend. " By all the
Saints, I trust he and my little cabbage reached safety." He
turned to Birnon, anxiously observing the effect of his words.
But the young man walked swiftly to the inner room, making
motions as if to write. " Nay, save the trouble, lad," he said
shortly. " I cannot read. Listen. Shake your head for no,
nod for yes. Did McLeod gain the storehouse ? " And, as
the other slowly obeyed his first command, " Is Madeline
safe?" he queried most anxiously, then smiled at the emphatic
nods he received as answer. " That is good," he muttered
and moved to the bedside of the senseless man.

A sound of wood strained to breaking point suddenly broke
the grim silence. Of a sudden the pressure was relaxed and
the noise ceased.

The Sergeant, silent as a shadow, slipped down the dark
room, Birnon at his heels, Rose of the Hills not far behind.
Sounds of shuffling feet, the stealthy movements of many men,
penetrated to their ears, as they stood holding their breath, the
thumping of their hearts audible on the strained silence.

Then the creaking began again. The old man placed one
hand on the staple holding the bar. To his dismay the iron
bent inward with the weight of tremendous pressure.

" They force the door, comrade," he whispered. " Wait."
Then he ran specter-like to the room where lay his officer,
seized a pair of pistols hanging over the bed, returning as silent
as he had gone. " When the wood gives," he muttered, " we
will give them a welcome they least expect." Forcing one
cocked weapon in the other's hand, he ended savagely, " Back
to the room, girl. We have enough to do. This is no place
for women ! " And Rose of the Hills disappeared without
one murmur.

The two flattened themselves against the logs, Sergeant Pere
muttering, " When the door bends inwards, fire through the
chinks. We may make a hit in a target that will show red
marks for many a day."

Francis Birnon grasped the saw-edged butt, determined his
bullet should make a vacancy in the ranks of the devils with-
out. Through his mind flashed the thought, if he was con-
demned to bid good-by to a fair world, at least one should
accompany his journey on the unknown pathway he perhaps

.is

TWO SAVE ANOTHER $9

was soon to seek. "Ready, comrade?" he heard whispered
at his ear, as the crack in the bending door grew wider.
" Now! " And he fired point blank into a mass of writhing
figures, the report of his pistol echoed, by the weapon of his
companion.

The door shot back into place with a snapping crack.
" Two birds winged," the Sergeant chuckled. " Two of how
many, think you? They are welcome. I wonder how fares
McLeod? I warned him. I trust he is safe, but I would
that our commander were here to command. 'Tis the devil's
own work this thinking and acting at the same time."

The old man grumbled his desire in no pleasant frame of
mind. He was wondering how his little cabbage was at the
moment. Devoutly wished his captain sober and sensible.
Not a thought had he to spare for either Birnon or himself.
As for the girl, she was an Indian and of the breed that comes
to no harm.

As he waited in the gloom, fumbling ,at a powder horn in
the attempt to reload his pistol, but spilling more grains on
the floor than went down the barrel, someone whispered at
his ear, and he jumped a full inch from the ground. " Rose
of the Hills go. Find canoe. Bring help soon." That was
all he heard, save the soft slither of a window frame raised
cautiously and lowered again to its place.

With suspicious hoarseness, he whispered to Birnon, " Name
of a fish, lad, but the maid is braver than most men I am
acquainted with. 'Tis not many who would dare so much."
And the other, dumb as the fish he swore by, could only grope
for a leathery hand and in a grip of steel make known appre-
ciation of the act. " Waste not strength on me, comrade, but
when these dogs burst in on us as they surely will do then — "
He was silent suddenly. He knew grim death crouched out-
side. So near that the dark angel's breath froze his soul.
Brave as he was he shuddered. " When I was at Brest under
Dieskau — " he commenced after a while to keep up his
spirits, but abruptly ceased. The door was suddenly assaulted
by a succession of thunderings that bade fair to beat it to
splinters. "What to do now, stranger?" he exclaimed.

Without waiting for an answer he darted up the passage.
"Quick!" he shouted to Birnon, almost on his heels, "A
light." As- the candle sputtered to a flame. " Wrap him in a

\
t)Q THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

blanket. We must try to pass his body through yon window.
We cannot remain here to furnish amusement for dogs, who
would stick us full of pine splinters, and howl with delight
to see us roast to a cinder."

They hurriedly wrapped the senseless man in a blanket.
Tore the bottom and top into strips to serve as handles. Then
extinguishing the candle, the old man softly clambered
through the window, and waited while the body of his officer
was lowered to his arms. Francis Birnon was at his side,
silently. Then both peered cautiously about for sign of the
enemy. Not one Indian was in sight.

" Now for it, stranger. This side at least is clear. What
we may discover round the corner is another matter. Take
hold. Move softly. We are like to pay in hair for noise."

The pair stole like shadows over the dust. Keeping close
to the high stockade wall, they made its entire circuit without
discovery. None pursued them, but the pounding of wood on
wood, the noise of savage yells, was eloquent of the fate in
store should they fall into the clutches of their Indian assail-
ants.

" Name of a fish," the old man gasped, near exhausted with
the weight of the man they carried, " I trust McLeod has his
ears and eyes wide this night." Then they came to the rear
of the storehouse, where they wrere forced to the open stockade
to gain its door. " Now, stranger," he said, gritting his teeth,
"rush it is. Lay low the minute we get there. Ready?"
They darted across, lying down on the threshold, while the
old soldier hammered with his foot on the wood. " We shall
soon hear our welcome," he muttered, and a crash of mus-
ketry fired point-blank through three inches of wood echoed
on his words.

" McLeod ! McLeod ! " he yelled, beating at the panel.
" Name of a fish, 'tis I — Sergeant Pere. Open ere we be
cooked on your doorstep, with the door for firing. Haste ! "

The wooden frame was thrust wide, and a dozen willing
hands hauled them, bundle and all, into safety. Then the
splintering smash of tough wood, with yells of disappointment,
rent the air. And the few gathered in the storehouse knew
the guardhouse had fallen into the hands of the enemy.

" Blessed Saints," the storekeeper muttered, " we thought
you dead with De Celeron for company."

TWO SAVE ANOTHER 9!

" We are in his company," came the grim retort, " only we
are alive. Though," this with a shrug, " he might as well be
dead for all the use he is to us."

McLeod nodded assent. His black mood of the previous
hour seemed vanished. All his thoughts were needed for the
saving of his daughter and the soldiers from butchery.

" We will place him on my bed," he said, stooping to lift
the inanimate man. As they undressed him, covering him
carefully, "What may we do? Think you of the soldiers
brave enough to venture to Niagara?"

" What think you ? " was the grim reply. " Does any here
hanker after Heaven in a hurry?" His companion shook a
doubtful head. He knew the soldiers of the garrison.

Later they fell to discussing ways and means of escape. A
hundred ways. All futile, because no messenger might hope
to evade the yelling hordes outside. To no possible plan
could they agree, save the waiting where they were, holding
out to the last bitter end, but saving one charge of powder
for the survivor sooner than he fall into the clutches of the
red fiends without.

"He has not spoken?" McLeod said uneasily, nodding at
the bed.

" Not to my knowledge," was the yawning answer. "If
he has, I have not heard him. I have had other things to
think on." Then the old man rose, moved among the sentries
posted at every window. " Sqme of you will wake in a hot-
ter spot than this if you fall asleep," he said sharply, as one
man nodded at his post. " Beware of my hands though, they
will make you warm enough before you start." With a scowl
at the offender he followed his crony. But something he ob-
served caused him to halt.

Francis Birnon, the moment he had entered the building,
glanced anxiously around for the girl. In a second she was
at his side, laughing, crying, in a breath; maidenly reserve
thrown to the winds at her delight in his safety. He was
dumb, but the warm clasp of two strong hands told her all
she wished to know of his feeling. She glanced at him,
blushed, released her fingers, but her eyes had said enough.

To the young man, her open pleasure in his company roused
all the affection of his hot heart. She was worth the winning,
he thought. As he followed after, he determined to do his

92 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

best to gather this wild flower to his arms. And the task
gave him pleasure the most extreme.

Sergeant Pere observed the two seated very close together.
And a grim smile curved his lips as he stood thoughtfully re-
garding them.

" Name of a fish, stranger," he grinned, " but you waste no
time. As for you, child, 'tis easy to see you are pleased to
greet one of us. Which one I need not mention." Then he
moved off, muttering to himself, knowing they desired to be
alone. He was more than pleased at the possibility of his ro-
mance becoming a reality. But found himself rather in the
way. " Name of a fish," he scowled, " when I was at Brest
under Dieskau, I always played principal. Then, no doubt
fate was the author. 'Tis strange. I must be growing old
and she neglects me. Old," he ended dismally, " and age makes
sorry show in life to youth. Ah, well, was I but ten years
younger."

Then he hurried off to assist the storekeeper, busily engaged
in serving out supplies at the farther end of the long low room.

CHAPTER X

ROSE OF THE HILLS ALSO DISCOVERS A MAN

WHEN the frame of the window closed behind Rose of
the Hills, she stood listening intently, holding her breath
for sounds of pursuit. With two brown hands she clasped
her bosom, fearing her pounding heart should dull a strained
hearing. Then deer-like she sped across the inclosure, leaped
to the platform, scaled the wall, jumped, coming to the ground
with a thud shaking every bone in her frail body.

Again she listened. Crashing blows on yielding wood she
heard, but no sound of her own discovery. Then she ran over
the crackling stubble and gained the dark forest's sheltering
depths.

Exactly what to do she had no clear idea. That help must
be gotten, other French soldiers found to rescue her white man
from extremity, dominant to a mind untrained to emergencies.
Across the lake lay Fort Niagara. But how to gain it — how
find a canoe to carry her there? Her own people were all
concerned in the preventing of her plan. If plan it could
be called. If a canoe was gained, was her strength equal to
the fifty-mile journey? Food was unobtainable. Water too
plentiful, but one must eat on such a league-long distance.
To creep along the winding shore, out of the question. Such
a sailing course would occupy days, and every moment was
precious as gold to the stranger shut up within the spot she
ran from.

The gloom of the forest held no frightful devils to scare
her from her purpose. One thought tormented insistently.
Had her people placed guards at the mooring place? Would
the canoes lying on the shore be easy to come at? And her
silent feet raced the faster over the narrow trail to solve the
problem.

A falling star shot across the pearl-gray sky, the momentary
flash a baleful gleam between tall pines whispering ancient
tales one to another. " Manitou frowns on my errand," she
gasped, pausing for a moment, a fearful glance cast over her

93

94 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

shoulder. " But I must save him. He must not die. Surely
the Great Spirit will not set his face against me for my pur-
pose to save a people from their evil plan of slaughter." Again
she hurried forward, braving the displeasure of the only god
she knew. Encouraged by a sweeter yet to her young heart
a more powerful deity. One, whose name she had never
known, but only discovered that early morning. Yet, He in-
sisted on her errand. " I must save him," she whispered, her
bosom heaving with breath coming in short sobs.

Out to the grassy sweep she came. Crept cautiously toward
the lake, a mirror of blue black. Not a soul, male or female,
barred her passage as she waded ankle deep into the still water.
The outcurving shore was deserted. One foot after another
she placed with such care that not a drop fell to disturb the
silence. The jutting spit of land was reached. Her strain-
ing eyes peered cautiously about, seeking the mooring place
slim fingers came to plunder.

A deep sigh escaped her. The canoes lay on the bank,
hauled out beyond reach of sudden storm. Untended; not
even a yelping cur was there to prevent theft. Then she
passed from the water, crept under the shadow of an overhang-
ing point, seized the nearest canoe, and —

" What does Rose of the Hills here? " a harsh voice said in
her ear. A heavy hand placed on her shoulder turned her
sharply about to come face to face with Senascot. " Does she
steal a canoe to run from the lodges of her tribe ? " Fear made
her silent. Again the young man rasped, " Rose of the Hills
was about to go — where ? " As he roughly forced her un-
resisting to the high bank above, " Now," he scowled, " where
does a Missassaga woman go at this hour?"

" I would go fishing," she whispered faintly, stumbling on
the first excuse coming to a bewildered mind.

" With but paddles for bait ? " the other muttered. The
lie was too transparent. " Few fish would come to you,
maiden," and the girl trembled at the glare in his eyes. " Come
with me," he said briefly. " Were my father to know of this,
his knife would steal your life to pay for such robbery. I
know where you would go," he added viciously. " You would
fish for assistance. Aid the men who steal our lands as you
would do this canoe. Not while I live, maiden. Come with
me!"

ROSE OF THE HILLS ALSO DISCOVERS A MAN 95

Rose of the Hills stood stunned. Despair raged in her
bosom. Then with the quickness of a woman she recovered
her wits. Determined to allay suspicion in the mind of the
tall bronzed figure, by whose side she was forced to move.

" Does Senascot think to frighten a maid by angry talk of
death?" she asked gently. "Where would a lone girl fly?
Where find shelter, save in the tepees of her tribe ? "

Senascot scowled angrily. " Maiden," he said sternly,
" once on a time your silver tongue might have deceived the
man you are to wed. But I have seen. Since this drunken
stranger came to beguile your ears, they need guarding. 'Tis
he and he alone you would save by the theft of my father's
canoe." He halted, his eyes glittering with jealous hate. The
girl shrank away, covering her face with both hands to hide a
gleaming knife. " My father did well to beat your false body
to the earth," he hissed. " He had done better to pluck out
by the roots a tongue that would carry news to his enemies."

" He was cruel to me," she moaned, her heart plumbing the
depths of disappointment. " He was cruel." Senascot
sneered.

"Was I cruel when you lay senseless on the earth?" he
said. " When the Evil Spirit clouded the eyes of my father,
was I the one to pass on? When he knew not friend from
foe, who watched you? Who cared, save Senascot?" His
voice trembled, his hands shook violently as he stood over her,
striving to search her averted eyes.

Suddenly she took courage. Such a tone was new to ears
accustomed to the harsh marital relations existing between the
sexes of the Missassagas. Perhaps even yet the man might
be molded to her will. She would try. At all, at any cost,
the stranger must be saved from death, no matter what befell
her own slim personage.

" Did my brother Senascot join in with this mad attack
upon our allies the French ? " she asked gently. " Does he
think in this manner to save our people from harm ? " For she
knew of his desire for better things.

" I was at the gateway — " The young man hesitated.
"Where do you go?" he said harshly, for he understood she
played with him. She must be taught a lesson. " Where
thought you to go?" he ended, grasping her arm roughly.
And she trembled at his change of voice and manner.

96 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

" I but go a fishing," she answered slowly.

" As I did and caught my fish," he sneered. " Come! " and
he dragged her unresisting toward the nearest tepee. " Now,"
he muttered, " tell me your purpose. Speak, or my father,
Wabacommegat, shall hear of this."

The girl was as a reed to his violence. Grasping her shoul-
ders his brawny arms spent their strength until she gasped for
breath and he let go suddenly, allowing her to fall to the
beaten floor.

" Rose of the Hills sought assistance for a man," she found
strength to whisper. " A man who is not a coward." And
Senascot glared his hatred.

" Are you mad ? " he said slowly, a new-born respect rising
in his breast for a maid who dared the anger of a chief's son.
" The Great Spirit clouds your mind. The white dog has be-
witched you — stolen the love you had for me — "

The misery in his voice touched a sympathetic chord in the
girl's bosom. She had discovered what love meant. Knew
that ardent longing to have a love returned. And how hope-
less that desire to her? More than ever hopeless now.

" Senascot is brave," she murmured, rising quickly. " He
is not a coward. Some day love will pass his way and — "
She hesitated at the longing in his eyes. If love was so much
to a man who might soon console his misery by choice of an-
other, what would future loneliness mean to a woman who
dare not pick or choose among the few remaining braves of
the Missassaga?

" Does Rose of the Hills love so much this stranger? This
drunken dog who bewitches my father with firewater?" His
tone was exceeding bitter.

" The stranger was not drunken," she replied hurriedly.
" He is sober. The Captain, he was drunken. Lies at the
Fort as one dead. Scar-face and the other men fight." She
stopped suddenly at the face of her companion.

" You were there. Warned them," he said savagely.
" You went there. Why, why, save for the love of a dog who
will take the best from your body and laugh to see the suf-
ferings of your mind."

" Rose of the Hills went there to save her people. Can a
few fight many? We live on their bounty. Think you that
none but men dream of the future? What will be the fate

ROSE OF THE HILLS ALSO DISCOVERS A MAN 97

of our people when the French, our masters, learn of this ? "

The young man shook his head. Already, to his way of
thinking, too much mischief had been done, but 'twas not
woman's work to consider such matters. " Was it for love
of our people or love of him you went ? " he asked suddenly.

" Both are dear to me," she murmured. " The first I tried
to save from harm. I feared the French — "

" As I do, now," came the gloomy interruption. " They
are too many for us. Without them we shall perish — with
them, now — " He ended abruptly, for the future of his tribe
looked dark. Punishment he knew lay in store for them.
Their mad attack on a French fort would cost much.

"Will my brother Senascot speak to his father? Warn
him of the folly in which he persists. Speak to the young
men, warn them also of what lies in store? "

The man sadly shook his head. With all the natural
ferocity of his nature, a shrewd brain was his. He knew him-
self foolish now, after the hot outburst of jealousy had ex-
hausted its flow. To what end revenge on the person of one
man, if a whole tribe were to suffer extinction? Why had he
allowed a mad passion to destroy his people? He thought
surely that Manitou had made him mad, that by his actions he
was an instrument to sweep the remnant of the Missassaga from
the earth.

" What will my brother do? " she said gently, to rouse him
from gloomy thought. But he had no answer ready. His
heart was overflowing with bitterness. The maid he loved
with all the passion of his wild nature, called him brother!
Confessed her regard for a stranger. The thought was hate-
ful, exceeding bitter, that a hated white stranger, one of the
stealers of his lands and debauchers of his tribe, should also
steal her love. He flung out his arms. Near struck at her
as she stood silent, waiting an answer.

Could he lose her, he thought? Should he tamely stand by
to see her body become the property of another? No! a thou-
sand times no. Suddenly an idea entered his mind, causing his
eyes to glitter. "Will Rose of the Hills give up this man?
Become the bride of Senascot, if — " He hesitated, leaning
toward her in the intensity of desire to know her mind —
" if he goes with her to warn the French? " Then he waited,
folding his arms, the girl stunned to silence by the unexpected

98 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

question.

Her dusky cheeks turned the color of chalk. A curi(
emptiness seized her bosom. Her heart seemed suddenly to
stop its hurried beat, as she lowered her eyes to the ground that
he might not see the misery in their depths. " Give up the
stranger." The words hammered insistently at her ears. The
gloom of the tepee a grave in which to bury sweet hope of en-
joyment. The beaten ground seemed rising, as a faintness
seized upon her. Could she give him up to save his precious
life? Give him up to that girl at the Fort. That was what
the end must have been in any case, but she would not have
been on hand to see the happiness of the two. She shuddered
as she thought of a future, chained to the side of a man who
had no power to stir her heart-beats one fraction of a second
the faster. The storehouse, those two, were burnt into her
brain. She had dreamed of saving, but not of sacrifice. Never
once thought her body - would be its heavy price.

"Will Rose of the Hills do as Senascot wishes? " she heard
his low voice say, and the color surged back to her dusky
cheeks. Her lips near refused to utter a sound. " Will she
do so?" he said again.

He came a step closer to hear a faint whisper.

" Yes," she murmured. " Yes, if Senascot will do as he
says. Find assistance for the French soldiers — and the
stranger."

Before she could grasp the full meaning of what accept-
ance was to mean, her slim body was crushed close to the man.
His mad heart sounding loud in her half fainting ear. He
stood, the picture of passionate possession, forgetful of a con-
templated treachery to his tribe. He was content with her in
his arms. The hated white intruder already half forgotten,
though not wholly forgiven for an unintentional theft.

But the girl, having paid the price, expected her bitter pur-
chase to be at once delivered. Gently releasing his clinging
arms, she bravely tried to smile in the face of her future lord
and master. " Senascot," she said in a hollow voice, " what
of the Fort ? " And his face lost its look of satisfaction.
Again he was the practical Indian. Love and dreaming miles
distant from the present.

" We must depart and that quickly," he answered readily,
though a frown covered his features. " Food must be ob-

ROSE OF THE HILLS ALSO DISCOVERS A MAN 99

tained. The young men will not hearken to my councils.
They would think I fear the French. When we return some
way must be found — how I know not — to save them from
the consequences of my mad folly." And his brain reproached
him for his treachery, though his heart was singing with pure
delight.

An hour later a birch-bark stole from the mooring place.
Coasted cautiously down the shore, past the Fort where a
great column of flame was blazing, and thus kept its course a
mile down the lake. Then the bow was turned straight to-
ward Fort Niagara, while four willing arms urged on the
frail craft. Into the creeping haze, they, a strange pair of
lovers, disappeared. Not a word did they exchange. Each
had strange thoughts, and the weaker one went as to a funeral.

CHAPTER XI

HOW FRANCIS BIRNON WAS TEMPTED TO STEAL

FOR five age-long miserable days and nights, the little band
of eleven men and one woman defended their retreat from
the raging mob menacing their safety. The besiegers furi-
ous at unexpected resistance robbing their thirsty throats of
much strongwater; the besieged weary, well-nigh desperate for
want of sleep. Each day one long continued uproar of assault ;
each night an interminable length of fearful waiting for a
stealthy storming of their position.

During the wretched hours every soldier did his utmost,
save one. That one, their commander, who lay as though his
spirit had departed, leaving the useless husk a mockery to those
needing its once intelligent assistance. For Captain de Celeron
remained silent; inert as on the night he was carried to his
present resting place.

Madeline, as a matter of course, constituted herself his
nurse. Her gentle hands forced at regular intervals between
his ghastly lips spoonfuls of broth made from dried deer's
flesh preserved in the storehouse for winter use. Meat there
was in plenty, with hard biscuit stored in bags. But water
was scarce. A well in the center of the stockade, the only
supply of the garrison, guarded day and night by the savages.
They, with cunning ingenuity, aware of the extremity of their
victims, in broad daylight spilled bucket after bucket of the
precious fluid on the thirsty sand before the eyes of the men
and woman they tormented.

' 'Tis their infernal cruelty makes them do such work,"
Sergeant Pere muttered to McLeod, as they stood at the close
of the fifth day, peeping out through the chinks of a loopholed
shutter. " They are devils." McLeod nodded assent.

" I little thought to see Missassaga wolves turn tiger," he
responded. ' 'Tis enough to make a man rush out and sell
his life for just one long draft."

Four squaws were busily engaged drawing water. Their
lives were safe enough. White men could not fire on defense-

100

HOW FRANCIS BIRNON WAS TEMPTED TO STEAL 101

less women, though in the minds of several soldiers, their pres-
ent task warranted a bullet.

" They are devils," the old man repeated. " Devils I should
have kept well chained. And yet we were warned."

" Aye, I know, but I had lived among them for years and
found them harmless. They must have had trouble among
themselves. I wonder what would turn Rose of the Hills
against them? What became of her?"

" She disappeared to warn our friends. At least, I thought
that in her mind. 'Twas the manner of her going that put
me in mind of doing the same."

" We may not stay here much longer without water," Mc-
Leod said slowly. " If she does not bring assistance, we must
go under." And his companion agreed silently. Words were
not easy. Dried salt meat with but a few drops of liquid
to moisten its swallowing is not conducive to conversation, and
he turned away to the farther end of the storehouse.

Francis Birnon had fared worst of all. At the serving of
each scanty ration he had been forced to remove the bandages
covering his mouth and by sucking at the raw flesh, try in
some manner to alleviate the pangs of hunger consuming his
once sturdy body. He knew wood for a fire, scarce. Made-
line, making broth by the aid of bark stripped from the log
walls, had on many occasions offered him a small portion.
But each pitiful drop left over from the needs of the patient,
was more than necessary to the nurse. With a determined
shake of the head he had refused to drink, but, had the girl
only known of his suffering, her lips would have gone thirst
blistered ere she permitted one tiny drop to touch their red
fullness.

Daily he grew weaker, hiding his distress under a jaunty
air. His one thought, to save the girl from as much misery
as was possible under the circumstances. Even Sergeant Pere,
with all his careful attention to detail, overlooked the fact
that the young man was unable to eat the provided coarse fare.
In fact, during the intense excitement reigning during the
last few days, no man cared over much for his fellow. Each
one had enough to do in the caring for self. Now the precious
water was at an end. Death by thirst was added to the possi-
bility of a fiery doom.

The long storehouse faced the spot where once had stood

102 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

the guardhouse. A row of charred posts, some half-consumed
boards, was all that remained to mark its former existence.
The besiegers, furious at the escape of those they thought
safe to fall into their hands, had fired the dry timbers, and a
roaring column of flame speedily devoured the labor of many
white men. Fortunately for the garrison, the little wind blow-
ing at the time carried the sparks out over the stockade toward
the lake. The green stockade had suffered a scorching for
some yards, but the storehouse had escaped injury. Nothing
else had been damaged, the attacking force were cautious.
They had no mind to raise a forest blaze that would speedily
bring justice on their destructive heads.

" 'Tis a wonder they have not tried smoking us out for the
pleasure of hearing us cough," Sergeant Pere muttered to Mc-
Leod, leaning against the wall. " I fear we shall roast after
all, when they find we are not to be taken alive." And he
cast a sorrowful glance at Madeline seated near the bed of
Captain de Celeron.

" They will not burn good strongwater. They would rather
blister their throats with the stuff. We are safe from fire.
'Tis water we must have, and that soon," mumbled McLeod,
to fall silent as his crony.

The end of the fifth day was drawing to a close. Long
shadows of swaying pines cast wavering shapes along the
sandy inclosure. Night, with fear of sudden surprise, was
again settling over the forlorn defenders, near exhausted with
continued exertion. Inside the shelter of the thick logs not
one of the garrison had been wounded. Strange to say, they
had not seen one dead Indian without at any time, though
they had poured bullets at them as they tried to rush the Fort.

" McLeod, we must have water," Sergeant Pere muttered
thirstily.

" Aye, but unless God send some from heaven and we tear
the shingles apart to let it through, I know not where we are
to get it."

" As well wait on a miracle."

" Then we wait in vain, old friend." And a silence fell on
the two.

Francis Birnon overheard the words. From a chink in the
warped shutter where he kept a watchful eye on the women at
the well, he came toward them,

HOW FRANCIS BIRNON WAS TEMPTED TO STEAL 103

"Name of a fish, stranger, what is it now? " Sergeant Pere
said testily. "Signs again?" for the young man was hastily
scratching letters on the whitewashed wall. " I tell you I
am unable to read. Am I to shout my ignorance to please
you?" He would have hurried away, but the storekeeper
laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. " At every thought en-
tering his head he scribbles. I wonder his brains do not rebel
at such restless fingers."

McLeod paid little attention to the words. He was reading
the rude characters. "Hum, and who will venture?" he
asked. " Were we beyond the stockade — "

"What is there?" Sergeant Pere demanded rudely.

" The lake, at least that is what he means. One of us to
go out and bring supplies. What think you of such mad-
ness?"

" He is not so mad save for his constant desire to write and
so provoke me. Who will venture?"

* 'Tis worse than madness to weaken our numbers," Mc-
Leod grumbled. " Worse than madness. Who dare scale
the stockade with buckets in his hands?"

Francis Birnon eagerly pointed to himself. Then, seizing
a charred stick, commenced to write upon the hearth.

" Name of a fish, but he is at it again, McLeod. What
maggot bites his brain to torment his fingers to scratching? "
But the other made no reply. He was eagerly reading the
startling inscription written on the hearth.

" ' We may tunnel under the stockade,' " he read aloud.
" ' Once beneath the wall I will try.' " He ended abruptly,
facing Sergeant Pere standing with a sneer on his twisted lips.
"Shall we permit such self-destruction?" The old soldier
shrugged, as the three eyed each other doubtfully, well know-
ing the slender chance for the one venturing a race with death.
" What say you, Sergeant? "

Madeline came to interrupt them. All three saw her lips
were cracked and bleeding; knew she spoke with evident diffi-
culty. " I need water for Captain de Celeron," she whis-
pered. " He is very restless." And Sergeant Pere smiled.

" He shall have it," he said heartily. " 'Tis as easy as shoot-
ing a dog Indian."

'Then I pray you to be speedy; 'tis not myself I think of,
but him."

104 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

" Name of a fish, child, an he need a bath he shall have it."
The Sergeant made a grim attempt at merriment, scowling at
the others to be silent. " Return to his side. In a short while
we will have bathfuls for all." He laughed hoarsely, thinking
that the journey for water was like to prove one of blood.

Slowly the girl returned to her patient, her father follow-
ing. For sometime he remained anxiously observing the fea-
tures on the pillow, but not a word passed his lips as he re-
turned to his two male companions. His mind was busy with
thought. If water could be obtained, his antagonist might
possibly recover from that death-like trance. A prayer escaped
his dry lips that such more than welcome event might come to
pass. He even smiled when the harsh voice of his old crony
met his ears.

" Ho, there ! To me, my children. To work. I have
discovered a way to wet our throats. To the cellar, all that may
be spared from window watching." As the soldiers crowded
to the depths beneath the storehouse, where in a few mo-
ments they were hastily set to work, he said, " A day's work,
and then a drink for all. At it my lads — at it."

By the light of sputtering pine torches, they toiled at the
making of a tunnel directly out toward the lake. Birnon,
first, swinging a mattock that brought the soft sand in showers
about his bare feet.

" We may need timbers to support this child's gallery,"
Sergeant Pere said to McLeod, busy shoveling. " When I
was at Brest, under Dieskau — Name of the devil!" he
ended abruptly. Again he returned to his work, swearing bit-
terly. He had forgotten. " I grow old," he muttered.
" Old."

" When you were there," the other said in all seriousness,
" did you ever do the like? "

"Do the like?" came the testy words. "Why, we did
naught else but tunnel under the English who waited outside
to come in at us. Many a one of them we raised nearer
Heaven than he thought to be."

" Then this should prove an easy task."

" Easy enough the shaft. 'Tis the weight of the stockade I
fear. An it tumbles, some of us are like to lose the desire for
water, that is — here." Then they both fell to work shoveling
in silence, each wondering what the end would be.

HOW FRANCIS BIRNON WAS TEMPTED TO STEAL 105

For hours they worked, with Birnon foremost in the narrow
driveway, when the storekeeper called a halt. " Within there,
stranger," he called. " Let another take your place." And
the young man staggered out to the coolness of the damp cellar.
" 'Tis useless work, I fear," he went on. " When 'tis fin-
ished, there are those brutes above to be considered. They
will watch us as a cat does a mouse." The other nodded, was
about to cast his body on the ground. " Upstairs, man. This
hole will give you a chill your body will shiver to be rid of
for many a long day."

Birnon nodded silently. His bones ached, his mouth was
dry, though his tatters were wringing wet as if he had tum-
bled into the lake his parched tongue craved to taste. When
he reached the gloomy room above, he cast himself down on
a heap of skins. The instant his head touched their softness
he lost himself in the welcome realms of sleep, and the store-
keeper stood looking down with much interest on his ragged
figure.

" He is brave," he muttered. " Had I been as he, I had
not come to this devil's land. Perhaps 'tis as well he came.
Madeline will have someone to care for her, should aught
happen to me."

Silently he turned away to the torch-lit cellar where sweat-
ing soldiers worked without ceasing. Night or day both alike
to them. They labored the harder for their toil that caused
an agony of thirst only to be alleviated by continued effort.
Every man knew of the plan proposed. One or two of the
discontented regarded the. matter as a devilish contrivance of
their hated Sergeant, to keep them employed and out of mis-
chief. From looting strongwater, one said openly. A fool's
proposal, another.

Their officer, overhearing, caused both regret. He was a
hard taskmaster. His horny hands harder still. The blows
he showered right and left convinced the grumblers that if he
was a fool, he possessed strength to enforce a fool's decision.
Amid silence deep and surly their strenuous labor went slowly
but surely forward, though many a vow of revenge was
registered against the lean personage of the man who drove
them.

The sun had long risen in a cloudless sky, when Sergeant
Pere wearily climbed the ladder to rouse Birnon to a new turn

io6 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

of duty. To his surprise the young man was nowhere to be
seen. Madeline lay sleeping on the bed ; Captain de Celeron
had disappeared, and a low whistle escaped his lips. Quickly
he passed to the other room, to throw a sharp glance at the
sentry motionless by each window. All seemed well, and he
retraced his steps, peered beneath the slab counter, thinking
that the young man had chosen that more retired spot in which
to rest.

Moccasined feet move shadow-like, and he made as little
noise. To his astonished gaze Captain de Celeron lay on a
heap of skins, with Birnon at his side. The latter's eyes were
red and glassy with more than mere fatigue of hard work, their
blinking stare set on a cup of broth standing on the floor by
the mattress. He stood watching. Noted the hand of the
stranger steal out toward the full cup, to be speedily withdrawn.
Twice was this action repeated, and he angrily frowned.
Thoughts of what this wounded stranger must have suffered
the last few days came home to his mind with full force. He
moved across the boards noisily upsetting a barrel as he passed.

Birnon leaped to his feet at the noise. His eyes searching
the gloom to discover the reason. He nodded recognition of
the intruder. Then wearily resumed his position by the side
of the senseless man.

"Ha, my brave, watching the sleeper in place of sleeping
your watch?" the old soldier said with a grin. "Art not
hungry, that you leave broth to cool ? " — offering the liquid,
refused with a decided shake of the head. " Drink it, I say.
No? Then I will cast it out. Faugh, 'tis sour. Wretched
stuff." And he made a motion as if to empty the cup.

Francis Birnon leaped to his feet, his eyes glittering two pin
points of light. One hand seized the cup, the other hastily
tore off the bandages covering his mouth. In a second he
gulped the cold contents. Then stood waiting, ashamed of
his wolfish action.

" Ah, lad, I know," the old soldier said gently. " I should
have been first to think of that wound, seeing I was first to
give it attention."

" Sergeant Pere," came the mumbled reply, " I needed
that — I — I have — have swallowed little the past five days.
Mademoiselle would have given me broth, but . . . she is a
woman and was worse off than even myself."

HOW FRANCIS BIRNON WAS TEMPTED TO STEAL 107

For the first time he spoke, and the other was impressed with
the manliness of his voice.

" When I was at Brest," he tried to chuckle, though a suspi-
cion of tears marred the effort, " we waited not on wromen.
'Twas every man for himself and Dieskau for us all." But his
lie was a failure. His companion knew that he would have
starved to a skeleton sooner than the veriest trollop of the streets
should have known want. ' 'Tis every man for himself at
such a time," he added quickly, and Birnon smiled.

"You will not tell Mademoiselle?" he asked painfully, for
the keen air bit at his raw mouth. " You, a soldier, under-
stand."

" Name of a fish, what am I? Tattle-tale in my old days?
Nay, rest assured she shall never know of the hunger caused
by my carelessness. She would acquaint me of the character
I bear. Now, I will replace the bandages. 'Tis too soon for
your mouth to open. I must to work, though my fingers be
not so gentle as some I know of."

The young man shook the hand of his companion most
gratefully. He knew the other understood, and felt more re-
lieved. In a few moments his mouth was covered, the
bandager keeping up a running fire of witticisms directed at
the bandaged.

" I like you best when your tongue be silent," he chuckled.
" I cannot read and you are dumb, so I may not know
your expressed opinion of aught I say or do. If I might ren-
der your feet silent as your tongue, we might stand chance of
water when the tunnel be driven. That is," he added with
desire to tease, " if it fall to your lot to go. Mind, I do not
say it will, for we cast lots as to that doubtful honor."

Here the other made a motion to tear off the bandages,
restrained by the sinewy clutch of a determined hand.

" Foolish man. Never fear. You go. The soldiers will
not seek to rob you of distinction. McLeod has his daughter
to think on, and I am too far gone in the wind to venture a
race with death. So, we will consider the lots drawn and
the lucky one falls to you. Will that suit your craving to
shine in a fair maid's eyes? Ah, I thought as much," as the
young man nodded his satisfaction. " Then 'tis settled. The
danger and the glory all to be yours for the sake of a maid I
will not mention. But a word in your ear. Were I, say,

108

THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

some twenty years the younger, I would give you, handsome
and all as your features be, a strong tussle for the favor of
Mademoiselle, though she doubtless is prejudiced on your be-
half. Come, now I have eased your mind, we will descend to
that purgatory, the storekeeper names a cellar, to taste a good
imitation of what priests preach many sinners may come to in
the future."

me

CHAPTER XII

HOW A SECRETARY SOUGHT SUSTENANCE, AND HOW HE
SUFFERED

WHEN the good fathers of the Christian Church came
to New France in search of converts to the Faith, they
cared little for danger, less for hardship and welcomed martyr-
dom, provided that prior to such dreadful death, they had
gathered to the fold a few of the forlorn sheep inhabiting the
forest-clad country in which they had labored. But few in
these comfortable days realize the terror of those gloomy wastes
in which their days and nights were spent. The bitter cold
of winter, the torrid heat of summer, the ever-present danger
from savage animals, both biped and quadruped, haunting their
trackless depths!

The four-footed beast slew quickly to allay the pangs of
hunger; the two-footed savage endeavored by most ingenious
methods to prolong awful death agonies, to appease his never-
ending lust of slaughter and to prolong the amusement he dis-
covered in the writhings of a victim. Yet the reverend fathers
faced these dangers willingly. In fact, sought out and lived
with the more cruel animal in his lair. By constant example
they succeeded in veneering the savage with civilization. But
at intervals, never fixed and most uncertain, the slight coating
sloughed off, and the beast released from unaccustomed dur-
ance rushed into a thousand frenzies of horrid deviltries.

The Abbe Picquet was one of these good souls preferring
danger in the wilds to a comfortable ease within the walls of
some safe abbey in Old France. Periodically he traversed
leagues of tossing water in a canoe, miles of troubled land on
foot, taking neither care for the safety of the morrow, disre-
garding the trouble of the moment. By his untiring efforts
many missions were established. So marvelous his zeal and
the method of his conversions, he was of more benefit to New
France than ten regiments of foot, and bears even to this day,
the proud title, " Apostle to the Iroquois."

Now it came about that in the spring of the year, Wabacom-

109

no THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

megat, Chief of the Missassagas, wards of the French in New
France, had despatched to this most unselfish man a request for
a mission. His bitter enemies, the Iroquois, possessed many
such institutions, and though they far exceeded his people in
number, ferocity and cunning, he saw no good reason why his
tribe should not be equally favored.

Possibly the debauched old man dreamed of an increased
supply of well-beloved strongwater by the establishment of
such a seat of learning. In the absence of scholastic favors,
with but a small garrison to oversee and check his hurried
course to drunken extremity, he could by begging, generally
add to the scanty dole allowed him by his keepers. With a
missionary enterprise greatly enlarging the population of Fort
Toronto, he had visions of a permanent state, bordering on
bestial unconsciousness, which was his highest ideal of life.
Certainly his tutors were to blame in that they encouraged
his taste, but while he was thus employed, their scalps were
the safer. Drink was doled out, sparingly, to keep him and
his tribe occupied, that civilization might secure itself upon
his rightful inheritance.

The Chief had requested a mission. The Church, always
eager to encourage and assist such hopeful aspiring, readily
dispatched the Abbe Picquet to investigate the aspirant. Un-
limited powers were given to the good man, and he, King's
Messenger, Prefect Apostolic of all New France, eagerly set
out from Le Presentation to do as he had been ordered. With
him came his secretary Ambrose, and Brother Alonzo — fa-
mous for his skill in medicine — accompanied by five trusty
Indians to act as guides. But though the journey was one of
religion, civil and military interests were to be cared for.
Reports were to be made of the state of the country; the
garrisons inspected as he passed; such documents carefully
tabulated and stored away in the archives at Quebec.

Fort Frontenac had earned his well-merited censure. An
eagle-eyed inspection revealed the weakness of numbers and
the carelessness of its guarding. Seated in a roomy canoe, the
good doctor had much to think on. He feared his statement to
the Governor would be disregarded; his plans for extending
the boundaries of New France to the extreme western horizon
frustrated by the slothful ease of those he sought to warn of a
quickly coming peril. None knew better than he, of the rapid,

ew

HOW A SECRETARY SOUGHT SUSTENANCE in

never tiring advances of the British. Yet his countrymen
would not be warned.

With all his dreams of colonization, he was averse to the
continuing of Fort Toronto as an outpost-mission.

" I like not the position of the place," he said one morning as
they neared their destination. " Fort Niagara is in the exact
situation for trade. Fort Toronto but diminishes its custom.
And as was instanced by that Choueguen, our friends the Eng-
lish established to steal our furs and poison the minds of the
heathen against their rightful masters, such place, I say, is bet-
ter destroyed."

" I have heard that good white bread and wine of rare
vintage is to be found there," the secretary mumbled, smack-
ing his lips. He was of immense girth, with an appetite to
correspond. " Much wine," he added, and the Abbe frowned.

" Ambrose," he said sternly, " I like not a gourmand for
company."

" A man must eat or die, reverend sir."

" True, but to fatten the body at expense of the mind is
neither manly nor befitting the company in which you travel.
Pray let me hear no more of good white bread or wine of rare
vintage. Read to me again the message of this drunken chief
to whom we pay a visit."

The secretary dutifully obeyed the sharp command. He
made no more mention of provisions, but his mind was filled
with thought of their sweetness. Scoldings might come, but
they did not rob luscious venison of juiciness. The autocratic
Abbe was to be feared, but his displeasure could not spoil rare
wines. And though inward rebellion raged in the heart of
Ambrose, outwardly he was calm and continued a monotonous
drawl.

The sun was hot. Do what he would, his heavy eyelids
closed in spite of frantic efforts to keep them wide. Break-
fast had been with him a weighty meal, and sleep was needed
to digest its ample sufficiency. A half snore, his head nodded,
then he was startled to complete wakefulness by a harsh voice.

" Ambrose, your wits wander. For the space of some ten
minutes you have ceased to read. Your fat body would be
benefited by exertion. Will it please you that I order the
canoe ashore ? "

" No — no, reverend sir," he gasped, puffing with excite-

H2 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

ment. " I but fell into a train of thought. I was not asleep,
just in deep thought." Exercise he dreaded more than any
punishment his harsh superior was like to place upon his head.
Hastily, with much attention to rhythm, he resumed his in-
terrupted reading from the brass-bound volume open on his
quivering knees. " I will turn back to Wabacommegat," he
added slowly and the Abbe smiled.

"Wait," he said, turning to Brother Alonzo, silent but an
interested spectator of scenery he had never before visited.
" Good brother, you see the fairest of lands. Fort Toronto,
where we journey, situated in a charming spot for health's
sake, but in a bad for trading. 'Tis but a mushroom com-
pared with Niagara. This Chief we visit will be displeased
at my necessary decision, but — " He ended abruptly with,
" Ambrose, it pleases me to add to my journal. Take a quill
and write. Be careful of the ink. Yesterday's record would
shame a school urchin of tender years."

Silently the secretary obeyed. On this occasion he remained
wide awake. What he wrote demanded his every attention,
for his master spoke of many matters far beyond his dull com-
prehension. Those same words even yet on record for the
searcher to read, should he so desire. Burning impressions of
the great country little known at Quebec, wondrous schemes
for the advancement of its population, fell fast from eager lips,
and the secretary thought his master would never tire.

But the brassy sun, high in the clear heavens, warned the
energetic doctor that men must eat and rest, if he would have
them work. With a vexed glance upward he ordered the
canoe toward the sandy shore. A camping place was soon
chosen. Fires lighted, and speedy preparations made for the
noonday meal.

The secretary, with watering mouth and complaining
stomach, sniffed with great approval the savory odor of broil-
ing meat. He sat licking his lips, anticipation bringing a
pleased smile to his fat face. Then the Abbe, ever watchful,
came over to where he sat, and disappointment came also.

" Look you, Ambrose," he said, a gleam of anger in his black
eyes, " 'twere more fitting a man of your calling to mortify the
flesh in place of adding to an unseemly girth. Now, while we
eat moderately, you may read to us a fitting chapter. Not one
word. I must cure you of this hankering after the fleshpots."

HOW A SECRETARY SOUGHT SUSTENANCE 113

The fat man stood as one dazed. He stood silent, not dar-
ing to open his lips to remonstrate. He was intensely hungry,
yet fear of continued fasting sealed him to silence. " He is
lean," he muttered, as the Doctor walked to a stone, seating
himself to wait for dinner. " Starvation would be natural
to him. I will plead with him. He may relent."

The Abbe glanced quickly up. His secretary was des-
perately afraid, but humbly he commenced. " Reverend sir,"
he mumbled, " I trust my appetite is not offensive to you. I,
to my sorrow, am a large man and require much sustenance to
support its weight — "

"If weight annoy you, Ambrose, I know of sure and certain
cure. I have but to order the canoe close in shore, where you
may walk. I will keep a watchful eye that no wild beast takes
you in its maw. Will that please you? You have but to say
so."

" Nay, nay, good sir, I will wait — I will wait. I will
exercise patience with my hunger, though hunger is a punish-
ment hard borne." And the fat one removed himself to a more
secluded spot, until the call for dinner. Then he opened his
book. In a dolorous tone of voice he read. Most unfortunate
was he in his choice of reading, for the chapter dwelt upon the
fatness of the land of Canaan, its overflow of milk and honey,
and his mouth watered as he stumbled over the words.

The learned doctor was a good judge of character. He had
his own peculiar methods of punishment, when any offended
his strict opinion. Closely he observed his secretary. Smiled
grimly at his suffering. He thought the pains of mortified
flesh might possibly effect a cure. For the fat man was a
glutton and needed some attention. Hunger and thirst, to his
own way of thought, were to be satisfied in moderate manner.
The zest of the epicurean eater was unknown to him. Now
was a good opportunity of reformation. His secretary must
be taught a sharp lesson. Cured, if possible, of a most of-
fensive habit. He smiled again as he finished his meal. Then
forgetful of everything but the necessity of New France, he
rose, walked with Brother Alonzo to the shore. There fell
into deep discussion of ways and means.

The secretary, left alone, ceased to read. Though huge of
girth, he stood in mortal terror of his spare master. Would
without hesitation, had the command been given, have walked

ii4 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

into the lake and so drowned. And death was anything
welcome to a man whose appetite made life a long necessity of
eating. But his master was given to fits of abstraction, mo-
ments when he seemed utterly unconscious of passing events,
and those minutes were eagerly seized on by the fat one to
thoroughly enjoy.

"He will never take notice now," he muttered. "Ah!"
as his eyes chanced on a deer rib, well covered with meat, lying
forgotten to one side of the fire. " Just one tiny morsel of
that. Vension is delicious when served with jelled preserve
and bread dressing, to which a pinch of herbs has been added,
but the sauce of hunger makes amends for the lack of de-
tails." Then he stole to the fire, stooped to pick up the tempt-
ing morsel, stood blowing with fat lips to cool its heat.

"Ambrose! " he heard a dreaded voice calling, and he shiv-
ered in his moccasins. "Ambrose!" Again came the im-
perative call, and without thinking he thrust the glowing bone
into the bosom of his cassock. Summoning a smile, he turned
to confront the Abbe.

" I missed your voice," he said dryly. "Why cease to read?
I was not far off." And the secretary was hard put to it to
invent a plausible excuse.

" I thought little use in wasting my voice, reverend sir," he
said hurriedly. "I — Oh! Oh!" he suddenly gasped, mak-
ing a most horrible grimace. With a frantic effort he pulled
his cassock from his broad chest allowing the hot bone to slide
still further down. " Oh!" he yelled again in agony, and his
master startled beyond measure hastily stepped back.

" How now — " he commenced angrily, adding in a more
gentle tone as the painful twitchings of the other became more
apparent to his eye, "What ails you? Are you ill? Is it
serious? Speak! Perchance we may discover a remedy for

but

your pans."

The secretary was silent. All he possessed would have
been trifling to give, for the opportunity of being alone. Ter-
ror of detection kept him silent. Though his fat face worked
with pain of his burn, he stood as if speech was foreign to his
tongue, and the Abbe lost patience.

" I warned you against the sin of gluttony," he said sternly,
and the other found his voice.

" Nay, reverend sir, 'tis not that. 'Tis hunger. Believe

HOW A SECRETARY SOUGHT SUSTENANCE 115

me, I am better. Much better."

"If 'tis the lack of one meal that causes such contortions of
both face and body, what diabolical shapes would come to
you, were you to hunger for a week, I know not. Come. We
waste time. We must be on our way." He turned, thought
better of his intention, came close to the other. " See you be
careful of my journal. Carry it beneath your arm. So!"
And folding one of the fat man's arms about the precious
volume, he forced the hot bone the deeper into an already sore
place.

" Oh! Oh! kind sir, have mercy," the secretary gasped, then
coughed to cover his confusion, for his master was intently
staring into his face, a most unpleasant look upon his grim
features.

" Ambrose," he said coldly, " that foul fiend within thy
body must be exorcised. Brother Alonzo," he called, while
the other stood foolishly plucking at his cassock, " my secre-
tary suffers grievous pain. Have you aught that may ease
him ? " And the tall compounder of drugs eagerly hurried to
the two.

" Reverend sir," he said with great precision of manner,
" I have a powder to be taken in water. 'Tis famous for its
quality in the expelling of gross humors from the body. 'Tis
strong, but the sufferer is lusty. An he take my mixture, ac-
cording to directions, soon will he be well."

The fat one overheard and shuddered. A nauseous dose in
addition to his body pain was intolerable to think of. With an
ingratiating smile he said, " I thank the Saints I am some bet-
ter. In no immediate need of medicine." But the Abbe, sus-
picious of such quick recovery, hastily interrupted.

" You shall not play with me, sirrah. Mix the brew, good
brother. I will see it swallowed. Haste! I am anxious to
be gone." Then the man of medicine, delighted to be of serv-
ice to the suffering, carefully compounded with a scrupulous
exactness — horrible to Ambrose fascinated with the sight —
a potion handed over with instructions to hold his nose while
he swallowed. " Now," the Abbe said with a satisfied air,
" follow us to the shore at once." And he, with the doctor,
walked composedly away.

Once their backs were turned, the fat one plucked from his
bosom the cause of his agony. Hurled, far into the under-

n6 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

brush a juicy bone. Then holding his paunch with both hands,
dismal groans escaped his lips. Already the powder, swallowed
much against his will, had commenced a painful operation.

" Oh, my stomach," he wailed. " Oh, had I only known
what was in store for me, all the deer ribs piled mountains
high had not tempted my sinful appetite." Then he moved
slowly down to the beach, groaning at every step. The Abbe
waited in no pleasant mind to receive his appearance.

" If that fat body of yours move not the faster, I will leave
you at Fort Toronto. I am wearied of such sloth and greedi-
ness. Push off. Too much time has been wasted."

The secretary dared not reply. He had said too much al-
ready.

CHAPTER XIII

HOW EIGHT DESERTERS CAME TO DRINK

IN the stifling heat of the cellar eleven weary men labored
as those who strive to avert disaster coming at an appointed
hour. Progress was slow, for one only might wield the mat-
tock at one time. Twenty- four hours had joined the yester-
days since the driveway had been commenced, and Sergeant
Pere, stripped to a lean and corded chest, his muddied trousers
strapped tight about a waspish waist, stood with McLeod, as
dirty, tired, and dust begrimed as himself, seeking a short res-
pite from exertion the most strenuous.

" Name of a fish," he said with a wide yawn, " not since I
labored at Brest elevating the English to higher things, have
I known such desperate undertaking." He spoke indistinctly,
his mouth dryer than the dryest dried peas. " I fear the
weight will bring ten feet of earth about our heads," he mut-
tered dubiously. " I am exceeding doubtful."

" We must take our chance. We must gain water for him
and her," McLeod replied. He was not in much better condi-
tion than his crony. Speech most painful to his cracked and
bleeding lips. " We must drink."

" I would we were come at the top," Sergeant Pere said.
Then clutched his companion's arm. " Where are your pis-
tols? 'Twill need more than my tongue to enforce the com-
mand that but one go."

The storekeeper stared amazed.

" Pistols? " he exclaimed. " What need of weapons here? "

" Name of a fish, have you lost the little wit God has blessed
you with? Think you when we reach the top in sight of
water, any command of mine will hold these thirsty ones?
If you do, you are greater fool than you look, and I should be
sorry to know that much."

" I have never once thought on such a matter," McLeod
answered impatiently.

' Then think at once. Go ! Load those pistols. The ones
I have seen in your room. Return on the instant. 'Twill

117

n8 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

never do for all to depart at one time."

" I thought Birnon was ready — "

" Name of a fish and so he is, but he will not have oppor-
tunity. These men of mine be militiamen. Not of the army
at home. There, I could and would hold any under my com-
mand. Here, 'tis different. These forest men — poor sol-
diers on parade, the devil's own in a skirmish, when they smell
water — they but obey me now through fear — will be as
wolves at a carcass."

[<They will not dare. What of the savages?"

" Fear the savages," came the sneer. " Little you seem to
know the power of thirst. They would not fear the devil him-
self, did he come in person to bar their passage, with a whole
company of his own to back him up. They have forgotten
fear. Though 'tis but water, they will be mad to dip their
dirty noses in it. Get your weapons, and that speedily."

McLeod slowly shook his head. Painfully he climbed the
ladder leading above. Moved stupidly, as one lost to the
world's doings. For six miserable days he had not removed
his clothes. Had not had two consecutive hour's sleep at one
time. One other trouble sapped his strength. Worry!
Dread that the man he had stricken to the floor would never
again open his lips. Doubt, that murdered peace of mind be-
cause of the harrowing thought of a beloved daughter.

Quietly he crossed the floor to stand with folded arms, look-
ing down on the man who rarely moved. " Does he speak? "
he asked of the girl seated at the bedside.

" No, father, not with reason," she replied slowly. " He
raves of water and of this place. Sometimes speaks of me,
but — " Here she ceased. Her sweet mouth was parched, her
fair face lined with the care of her patient. Not only thirst
had been her lot ; the fear of hideous death, the lack of privacy
to remove her clothing, had told heavily on a slim body. Be-
neath the coating of dust thick on her cheeks, her face was
pale and haggard. " Father," she suddenly exclaimed, " shall
we ever find water? I am so thirsty, so dirty, so tired, oh — "
And the tears trickled between slender fingers covering her
worn features.

" There, there, child," he said. " We must get through to-
night. One goes out to try. Do not cry, my dear one. 'Tis
little like my brave girl to weep."

HOW EIGHT DESERTERS CAME TO DRINK n9

" I am not brave," she whispered. " I am a coward, weak
woman, waiting — waiting, alone in this darkness, with naught
to do, save tend a sick man who frightens me at times."

" I would he were well again," McLeod replied, his voice
trembling. " If he should die? Oh, God, if he die? Think
you he improves? Speak! Think you he will recover?"
But the girl only shook her head.

" I cannot tell," she whispered. " As I say, he but raves of
water and of this place. Often he calls my name. He — "
She hesitated, glancing anxiously at the bowed figure at her
side. He seemed not to half understand what she said.

" Aye, women, women," she heard him mutter. " From the
time a man is born until he die, he must needs call on them.
Die!" That word uttered unconsciously aloud, roused him
from thought. He turned to stare about in the gloom, one
hand at his throat. Already the hangman's cord seemed fas-
tened about his be-whiskered neck. " Not that," he muttered.
" Not that."

Hempen cravats have never become fashionable, though many
men of fashion have worn them at a last moment. Norman
McLeod was anything but a coward, but the bravest shrinks
from disgraceful death. And he, a plain man, had no desire
to dangle at the end of a long rope. He stood muttering, sway-
ing, and his daughter, alarmed, started to his side.

"What is it, dear? Are you ill? Shall I call Sergeant
Pere?" But he strove to push her timid hand on one side.

" Nay, nay, I am better. I was thinking." Then to him-
self, as the girl resumed her seat, " Aye, thinking on my end.
The death of a mongrel dog."

He knew his New France for an iron-handed mistress.
Smiling, lavish with gifts when pleased with her servants;
frowning, harsh, when angered against them. Loss of her sol-
diers without good reason furnished by the loser, a capital
crime in her watchful eyes. The murder of the least one in-
vestigated, and the extreme penalty demanded from the mur-
derer. Again he shuddered as he thought, and his daughter
came close.

" Do not tremble so, father," she said gently. " See, I am
brave once more. I will not weep. I was tired. Perhaps
we may soon obtain water. Even enough for a bath." And
she tried to smile.

120 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

'Tis not so much the water, 'tis he. If he should die?

" But he will not die. Monsieur Birnon says not. He has
some skill in medicine — at least I think he must have, for
every day he comes to his side — "

She was roughly interrupted. Harshly her father spoke,
his eyes gleaming, as catching her arm angrily, he said,
"Where is he, Birnon? Where?" And the girl ruefully
rubbed her soft flesh, that angry fingers bruised.

" There he stands," she said with some alarm. " He is on
duty. I will call him. Will it please you come hither? " she
called and the young man hurried to her side.

He was red-eyed and sleepy looking; his hair matted and un-
kempt, while the dirt of six smoke-stained days covered his
hands and features. Scarecrow he was and knew it. The rag
across his wound emphasized thin, gaunt cheeks. His appear-
ance that of an old, old beggar, rather than that of a strong
youth in the early twenties. He shuffled over the boards, try-
ing to straighten drooping shoulders, conscious the girl was
closely observing him. A miserable sense of shame submerged
his white face to a glow of color, and she, though he was un-
aware of the fact, discovered a wonderful sympathy spring up
in her heart.

The storekeeper seized his arm. "Will he recover?" he
demanded fiercely. "Quick! Speak, I say." For answer
the other nodded, glancing at the girl who blushed the color
of red rose. " Thank God ! Thank God ! " he muttered, tot-
tered, to fall headlong to the floor.

"Oh, father! My dear father!" Madeline exclaimed,
kneeling at his side. Then, as the younger man came, she
fled to a near-by cupboard, obtaining a flask of brandy, and
the pair sought by administering small quantities to restore
sense to the inanimate figure. Their efforts fruitless as the mo-
ments hurried by.

Suddenly Sergeant Pere broke in, " Name of a fish, what
is this? McLeod ill? Thousand fishes, to have this happen,
just when his services were most like to be needed. What ails
him, child? Thirst? Well, we shall be soon through. We
have come to the stakes of the stockade and the dirt falls in
showers from their sides. Pest ! " he added, as Birnon rose
hurriedly, " I would not have this happen for a million gallons
of water. No, not yet," motioning the young man to wait, " we

HOW EIGHT DESERTERS CAME TO DRINK 121

cannot go till it be dark."

" Is he to go?" Madeline asked in alarm, near forgetting
her father. " Surely someone more able, not a wounded man,
will be sent."

The old soldier grinned, as he observed the motions Birnon
made behind her back. " Name of a fish, little one, of course
an able man will be sent. Think you I command here for
naught? Be brave, fear nothing while I am Sergeant.
Look — " to distract her mind from the peril of a lover — " I
think the good father requires attention."

The girl was anything but satisfied with the evasive an-
swer. Then her father moaned feebly, tried to sit upright,
supported by a bony knee that his old crony swiftly placed
against his back, and for the time she had other matters to
ponder.

"Madeline," he gasped, "where am I? What has hap-
pened?"

" Name of a fish," the Sergeant said, " you gave us a dismal
fright for some ten long minutes. What caused the attack?
Thirst?"

" Aye, that and age," came the muttered reply. " I am old,
or at least on my way to age. Old ! " he repeated angrily, as
the three assisted his feeble body to a heap of skins, where he
lay as one exhausted and glad to rest.

Sergeant Pere scowled whimsically at the daughter ere he
answered. " Name of a thousand fishes," he snorted, " we
none of us grow younger. And why complain? We travel
in good company. The King of France is older by some few
seconds already; we are all for that matter. 'Tis little use
wishing to be youthful once again. I never found the hands
of the timepiece move backward. Now, though I wish them
to travel forward, will they move? Not they. As well wish
one way as another, then. Time is the same. Here I am
anxious to add a few more hours to the past. Phut ! " he
ended, seeing the girl smile, which was exactly what he in-
tended, " an excellent preacher was lost when I turned sol-
dier. Which of us keeps watch till the sun descend ? " Then,
threw himself down, yawning, on a bale of skins.

"Which of us watches?" he muttered again, closing his
eyes for a moment's luxury of rest. He ached all over; his
limbs indifferent to the commands of an iron-willed master.

122 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

Even the thirst tormenting his throat, second to that direful
need of sleep. "Which of us does?" he muttered. Beneath
swollen eyelids he noted the dusty rafters with their hundred
and one pendant articles of trade. A sun shaft quivered misty
notes on the swaying packages, and he was about to observe
on the queer freaks of corded provisions dancing of their own
free will. " The watch," he murmured, and fell asleep. De-
parted to the land of absolute forgetfulness granted to those
who labor; to those whose consciences are clean as the soul of
a new-born child.

" Poor tired old man," Madeline whispered, bending to kiss
his leathery cheek. But her answer was a stupendous snore
resounding to the rafters, and her father, somewhat recovered,
testily bade her leave the old man alone.

" He needs sleep," he said. " You, too, Birnon." As the
young man energetically shook his head, " Then see you stay
wide awake. Madeline, you must rest. Sleep, my child,
is what you need. I, too, for that matter." And as the girl
with a lingering glance at her lover moved away, he added,
" For the Blessed Saints' sake, Birnon, stay wide awake —
that is, if you will keep watch. I do not think we are like to
be troubled with attack. The brutes have left us alone all day.
I do not understand it, but, we must make the best of the few
hours' relief."

The young fellow nodded slowly. Retired to a near-by
window where he could keep a ready eye on the stockade. His
mind was filled with peculiar thoughts. Foremost, how did
this man know his name? Possibly he had done business with
his grandfather. That must be it. But why had he not men-
tioned the fact and saved much misery? Many things needed
explanation. He would ask, that is, when water had been come
at. When? he thought, and glanced toward the sleeping girl
lying at the far end of the storehouse on a heap of skins.
Would he ever ask? flashed through his mind as the com-
ing journey to the lake drew nearer and nearer! Well —
time would tell.

With an inward sigh at his dumbness, he placed a cautious
eye to a chink in the shutter. All was unchanged as far as
he could see, save that the women had ceased their wasteful
operations. They had disappeared for the first time during the
siege. He wondered at their absence. Then noted that even-

I HOW EIGHT DESERTERS CAME TO DRINK 123

ing was drawing on apace. Long shadows lay across the
dusty, deserted space of sand. Silence reigned save for the
sound of many snores. It seemed impossible that the outpost
had ever known the turmoil of attack.

Homebound birds sought their nests, while twittering swal-
lows soared, dipping about the charred embers of the guard-
house. A white-winged owl hooted mournfully in the near
distance; bats wheeled their circling flight in the shadowed
safety of approaching eve. The darkness grew deeper,
deeper — He roused himself with a yawn, shrugging vigor-
ously. He had near fallen asleep, soundly as those he was on
guard to protect.

He moved over to the bale of skins. Placed a hand on either
shoulder of the sleeping men. With a muttered expression of
alarm both rose unsteadily to their feet.

" Name of a fish," Sergeant Pere said hoarsely, " but I must
have closed my eyes for a moment. 'Tis dark, McLeod," he
added angrily, and the other nodded.

" Yes," he muttered, " dark enough. I suspect one moment
lengthened to hours, my friend. 'Twas light when we lay
down, now — " and he moved over behind the slab counter,
groping for a silver timepiece. " By all the Martyrs, 'tis eight
of the clock," he said, striking flint and steel, making a spark
that flared on three anxious faces.

" Name of a fish," Sergeant Pere growled, " to sleep on
guard is a breach of duty I would be first to punish, but as
none are superior here to me, I shall escape. Lucky for me
Dieskau came not by to catch me or I should have descended
to the ranks in a hurry that would deprive me of breath."
Muttering to himself, he hurried to the cellar. In the gloom,
he heard a concert of most unmusical snoring. With a curse
he kindled a torch, and his loud voice roared displeasure.

11 Guard turn out," he yelled with all the power of his
lungs. And as the scared soldiers scrambled to their feet,
blinking in the glare, he added, " Asleep all, and not one keep-
ing watch? I will attend you." Then he proceeded to re-
count their several histories, as he knew them, and with red-
dened faces the tired men resumed a weary shoveling.

ct If I myself sleep on guard, thereby breaking the first Ar-
ticle of War, 'tis no reason why you nameless animals should
follow my example," he said wrathfully. " To your tasks,

124 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

01 my feet will be among you."

At this moment McLeod, with Birnon, descended to his
side. " Ha, stranger, art ready as ever to dare a journey from
which there is no return ? " And as the young man nodded,
" Then prepare ; we are near through, though I fear a tumble.
One grave for the lot of us." He called the men from work.
They, scowling, fell in line. " Remember," he said harshly,
" one goes, and one only. Should any man dare disobey me,
well he will repent his rashness. Now, stranger, a few strokes
upward, and we find — aye, what shall we find? " he muttered,
moving aside to let Birnon pass.

Into the narrow passage the young man moved; under the
sharp pointed stakes gleaming white in the torchlight. Strik-
ing upward with powerful strokes, showers of dust covered his
ragged body, blinding his eyes with stinging grains. Wedg-
ing his body into the hole, he persisted until he could no longer
use his heavy mattock. At last, was forced to return to his
waiting comrades.

" How now, my brave? " Sergeant Pere said in alarm, while
the thirsty soldiers eyed wistfully his movements. " Is aught
wrong? Will the pick not reach?"

Birnon shook his head pointing to the mattock in his hand.
McLeod hurriedly ran upstairs, as hurriedly returned, carry-
ing a keen-bladed hunting knife. "Will that do?" he said;
the other, nodding, disappeared again.

Climbing into the sandy hole, hanging on by one hand, the
young man worked desperately. Suddenly his knife stabbed
emptiness. With extreme caution, he cut a circle in the roots
above his head and the sweet fresh air of a silent September
night swept relief to his flushed features. Then he dropped
back into the gloom, hurried to the cellar, brushing by the
others, eager questioning, his mind filled with thoughts of
water for his girl, and vessels with which to bring it to her
dear presence. Up to the storehouse he ran, seized on two
clean buckets, hurriedly returned to the cellar, where a laugh-
able sight met his eyes.

Sergeant Pere lay flat on his back, near smothered in a heap
of dirt, swearing by all the Saints he knew and though they
were of limited number, his curses made up in luridity what
they lacked in truthful naming of the dire vengeance he would
have on the heads of those responsible for his downfall. The

HOW EIGHT DESERTERS CAME TO DRINK 125

storekeeper stood to one side, doubled up with painful merri-
ment, rendered incapable of assistance by reason of much
laughter. At last the old soldier succeeded in regaining his
feet.

" Aye, laugh away, my good friend," he said viciously.
" Laugh on. Said I not that my men would be as wolves
when they smelt water? "

" Oh, Sergeant," McLeod replied weakly, " I cannot help
it. I must laugh. When I saw them rush you, fling you on
one side, I thought of many a harsh word revenged, as they
stood before you on parade."

" Ah, did you ? " came the angry snarl. " Well, my time
will come for rushing. When each pig-dog beast of them
shall fill his hide to bursting he may split its length ere I go
to relieve him."

The old man stood brushing down his clothes, furiously
angry at the serious breach of discipline. Above all, he was
most sensitive to ridicule. He knew the barrack room power
of distortion. That the tale of an officer of New France
should hold a crowd of laughers made him keen to be re-
venged before its relation traveled far. " I will have them,"
he muttered savagely. " He who laughs last has generally
best cause for amusement." Then he turned on McLeod.

"Why do you stand staring like an idiot? " he said; and as
the other followed up the passage, " Forgive me, old friend,
but I am not used to being made a football. Let us go
steady." As they climbed upward to the silent night, drink-
ing in the cool air, he glanced suspiciously along the curving
stockade walls. " 'Tis strange we see no one. I wonder they
set not a guard about the Fort. All the better for us, but,
'tis not like Indian cunning."

As they stole over the stubble, the crepitation of their foot-
steps sounded loud. Yet no one barred their passage. Within
the space of a few minutes, they stood by the lake where eight
thirsty men were busy absorbing mouthful after mouthful of
the clear water. They two, not slow to follow a greedy
example.

Sergeant Pere quickly satisfied his thirst. He knew the
penalty of too much liquid refreshment, be it strongwater
made by man, or rainwater coming from the distillery of a
wiser Maker. He rose to his feet, a grim smile hovering on

126 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

twisted lips.

" When we return," he said slowly, " each one of you will
have cause to curse his restless nature, and the insult put on
me, an officer of the King of France." As the eight sheepish-
looking individuals jumped to attention, satiated with the tre-
mendous drafts they had swallowed — one, sickened to reple-
tion, was taken violently ill — he continued, " Back to the
Fort. We have work to do this night. Ah ! " as the sound
of sickness reached his ears, " pig-dog, you are already re-
warded. Water is too rich for your stomach. Fall in."
And the little company wearily marched back to the outpost;
McLeod walking in the rear.

The old man shook his head in silent wonder. He could
not understand this sudden desertion of relentless enemies.
The strange silence puzzled him. He said nothing, though
he determined at the first streak of daylight to investigate
thoroughly. Setting his men to work, he filled every avail-
able vessel at his command. They had something to do to
satisfy a taskmaster, suffering from ridicule.

Francis Birnon, before he thought of drinking, waded out
to deep water, filled his pails to the brim, setting them care-
fully on the shore. Then he removed the bandages from his
smarting mouth, dipping deep into the most delicious draft
he had known since setting foot on the shores of New France.
Refreshed, he too returned to the Fort. Carefully passed
down his buckets. Hurried to the gloomy storehouse, where
waited the girl he had grown to worship.

She sat wide-eyed, thirsty and tired. Yet when her lover
handed a brimming mug, she held the water to the lips of
her patient. He, supported by the pair, drank greedily;
opening his eyes, to sink back into a stupor. Then she too
drank slowly of the sweetest drink that ever passed her lips,
tasting to a swollen throat as no liquid had ever tasted before.
Suddenly she dropped the cup with a glad cry, to be gathered
close in the arms of as ragged a man as ever offered hospi-
tality.

Below in the heated cellar men worked as demons labor,
tempting men to sin. It was not until the first streaks of a
windy dawn came to rouse the earth to another day of toil,
they were permitted to cease from labor. Even Sergeant Pere
was satisfied. As he gave the command to desist, and the men

HOW EIGHT DESERTERS CAME TO DRINK 127

dropped on the sand, he ascended to the storehouse. There
he came on a maid and man seated close together, absolutely
unconscious others existed.

" Name of a fish, stranger," he growled, " where do you
find excuse for theft of so much sweetness ? " For the cheeks
of each were pressed close together. " Which is sweeter, my
friend; stolen kisses or stolen water?" The barest suspicion
of jealousy made his voice the harsher. " Ah, I understand.
When I was at Brest with Dieskau, I too stole both, though
the water was of the strongest, as was too often the breath of
the maids I kissed."

Madeline crept softly to his side. Pulled down his gray
poll until his mouth was level with her own. " There," she
said as she kissed him soundly, " now you too have tasted honey,
and must not be vexed."

" I vexed ? I ? " he muttered with a smile. " I am too
glad to see romance on the road to coming true in this work-
aday world to croak at such wonder." As the happy pair lost
themselves again, he muttered, " I vexed. What in the name
of a fish put that into her head? I am more than pleased."
But he turned away to hide tears in his eyes. They seemed to
belie the truth of his emphatic assertion. He was glad —
but—!!!

CHAPTER XIV

SERGEANT PERE MEETS FEAR!

NINE of the clock the following morning found Sergeant
Pere well fed and fairly comfortable of body, though
somewhat uneasy of mind. True, sundry tweaks of rheuma-
tism annoyed him when he moved, but such pains were naught
compared with the annoyance in his brain. He could not un-
derstand the sudden desertion of the Fort by its besiegers.
Why they had departed so mysteriously, so silently, when suc-
cess lay almost within their red grasp. Possibly they in-
tended a trap? Well — he would venture out and see.

Sentries with loaded muskets he placed at every window
to cover his movements. Then quietly unbarring the door, he
first peeped outside. Found nothing to alarm the most cau-
tious discretion. Swiftly stole to the edge of the wooden
stoop, to stand with a scowl on his puzzled features.

Francis Birnon followed, pointing to himself, but he shook
his head, pointing in turn to the gloom of the storehouse where
Madeline lay on a couch at the farther end, wrapped in deep
slumber upon a heap of skins. " Wait here," he said. " She
would not thank me were you to return filled with splinters.
Stay, and keep an eye on the men. 'Tis better that one
should fall into the trap — if trap be intended by the dogs
who have penned us close — and one only. We can ill spare
that one for their amusement." As the other showed his dis-
pleasure by a frown, " In, I say. Name of a fish, but do you
prove mutinous, I will rouse her. Then you will receive a
most proper lecture, I warn you. Ah, I see you train for a
docile husband."

He grinned as the young man shrugged, but rebelliously
obeyed. Waited till he heard the sound of barring bolts
shutting him outside. Then he crept over to the platform,
rnpunted its height, to stand staring about, surprise keeping
his tongue quiet for the moment. To remain unmolested wras
wonderful. That silence, in place of the horrid yelling of
the past six days greeted his ears, more than he was able to

128

SERGEANT PERE MEETS FEAR! . 129

grasp. Shaking his head solemnly, he turned to view the lake.
Suddenly his jaw dropped; his eyes opened wide. Hurriedly
he leaped to the ground and raced back to shelter.

" Open ! Open ! " he shouted, hammering the door with a
knotted fist. " Here is work," he said to McLeod and Bir-
non, standing amazed. " Out yonder, if I am not mistaken,
is the Abbe Picquet. He comes here." And the storekeeper
stood still as a stone.

" The Abbe," he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his
eyes. " The Abbe, and last month's books not yet posted.
Now, I am in for it."

"Books! Books!" Sergeant Pere shouted angrily. "If
any Indian lie in wait for him, he is like to hear a record not
written by man, and that in another world to this. Guard
fall in," he added hastily. " Four men remain here. The
others follow me. No, not you, McLeod. Stranger, lie well
hidden for a time. He must not see you." He hurried down
the cellar steps, for he purposed going that way, not caring to
run the risk of opening the stockade gate. Followed by the
four, once at the surface, he doubled over the stubble on the
run.

"What should bring him here at this time?" he muttered.
' 'Tis not his usual month. What trouble lies in store for
me who am but a poor liar, with De Celeron gone in the
wits, McLeod prating of books, and good reason to furnish
for the doings of those misguided pig-dog Missassagas." Then
he came to the beach.

The Abbe stood on the shore, surprise on a wrathful face,
whose eyes slowly took in every detail of the ragged five.
" Ha," he said in chill tones, " at last. Why am I kept wait-
ing? I see the gate closed, not a flag to greet my appearance.
Is the commanding officer dead that such disorder reigns?"

" The commander, Captain de Celeron, is somewhat indis-
posed, your grace — " the old soldier commenced hurriedly,
interrupted by a haughty wave of the hand.

" I thought him dead. Ill, he must be, to allow his men
to appear in such disgraceful manner of clothes. Pray, who
commands — or rather, who allows such foul condition of both
arms and person? Answer me, sirrah. At once."

Sergeant Pere discovered a numbness seize his over-ready
tongue. He knew a fear that gripped his heart. Although

i3o THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

he had never the honor of speech with this powerful dignitary,
he had heard of him. A soldier of the Church peaceful he
was, but in the world of arms equally at home. His sharp
eyes more to be dreaded than the sharpest gaze of any military
inspector. The old soldier shivered at this dominant man,
staring him out of countenance.

" There is much to explain — " he stammered, his usually
authoritative voice taking on a submissive tone. "I — I — "
he commenced, but was silenced by the other.

" Conduct me to the Fort," he said icily. " Command your
— scarecrows to assist with my baggage." As a reply was
forthcoming, " Silence ! Leave explanation to your command-
ing officer. When I come to shelter, I will have his reasons,
not yours."

Sergeant Pere meekly obeyed. Walking two paces in ad-
vance, he wondered if time would be allowed for that explana-
tion by the savages he feared lurked in wait for them. Fear
of this stern man stilled his lips. His civil authority, his tre-
mendous churchly power, oppressive even to a military man,
accustomed to command and be obeyed.

" A pretty state of affairs," the Abbe audibly muttered as
he walked under a hot sun, that caused the sweat to start on
his pale forehead. " I will use severe measures with this
commander if he furnish not good reason for such neglect."
And Sergeant Pere, overhearing, hot as was the day, shivered
violently.

" I trust De Celeron will keep quiet," he muttered softly.
" Half crazed as he is, he is like to bark at the wrong time,
and have his hide nailed to the stockade as a warning to rum
swillers."

The party quickly covered the short distance to the outpost.
They reached the deserted entrance, with its close-barred gate.
Then the Abbe turned on his meek companion, his face white
with suppressed anger.

"What means this, soldier?" he said bitterly. "The door
barred and bolted against the peaceful representative of New
France. Why is this?" he said. His gaze seemed scorch-
ing to Sergeant Pere.

He was at a loss what to say. What reasonable excuse to
offer. Oh, for five minutes with McLeod, that both might
tell the same story! Why had his officer chosen such time to

SERGEANT PERE MEETS FEAR! 131

dip into a bottled depth ? Oh, for someone — anyone, to bear
a share of the wrath of this stern man. Silent he stood, and
the Abbe became impatient.

" Has fear of the Church turned your tongue to stone? "
he asked haughtily, angrily, though he was gratified at the
evident fear openly displayed by his grimy companion. " An-
swer me. At once."

" Reverend Lord," the old man stuttered, "I — I would
have explained but you would not hearken. You were angry,
though even now I fear the Missassaga more than your
wrath — »

"Fear the harmless heathen who exist but on our charity?
Fear them ? Why, pray ? " The Abbe stared his astonish-
ment. That those drunken Indians he knew so well would
dare lay hands on the. least of the soldiers whose country pro-
vided for their wants seemed folly. He laughed quietly, but
his chill merriment froze the hot answer rising to the lips of
Sergeant Pere. " Fear," he sneered. " If you, a soldier,
know that, you had best discard the clothes you wear. Find
other excuse, my man. One more worthy of a French sol-
dier. Fear! I, a churchman, fear naught save God; and do
you, whose calling is of war, shelter yourself behind that which
is unknown to me ? "

Sergeant Pere was at his wits' end. Suddenly an idea en-
tered his head. He must gain time to come at his crony. He
would. " Shall I order the gateway thrown open to admit
your lordship ? " he asked, and his companion frowned.

"At once," he said, adding slowly, near sneering; "that
is, if you have lost all fear."

For the moment the other lost his terror. Sharply he an-
swered, "I had — we all had fear," he said. "And I will
have you understand, that when a man goes in terror of death
from brutal Indians, be he a Churchman who fears naught
but God, or a common soldier as I am, who knows not what
shape his fear may take, there is great excuse for him."

Again, the Abbe stared. A different man now spoke. Not
the craven of a few moments past. To his surprise he had
discovered a soldier brave enough to beard a Christian pos-
sessed of unlimited authority. Accustomed to meek obedi-
ence of meeker subordinates, he discovered a sudden liking
spring up for this old fellow, daring a disastrous displeasure.

i32 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

" That is the answer of a bold man," he said after a silence
of some moments, while the soldiers stared in terror, each
expecting instant imprisonment for their sub-officer. " Some-
what pert, I must say, but I will go deeper into the matter
when I am admitted. Open the gate, my good man. Others
of my company approach and I like not to be kept waiting."

Sergeant Pere hastily turned away. The sweat stood out
on his forehead as he hurried to the hole in the ground and
disappeared. His companion followed, staring amazement.

" Of all things," he muttered. " Am I expected to do
likewise? Can they have feared fire?" The sodden earth
caught his eye about the gaping circle. " 'Tis not rain.
The very stubble crackles with dryness. If 'twas fire, why
did they not use the gate? There remains much to be ac-
counted for, I suspect. I am anything but satisfied." Then
he walked to the stockade gate, thrown wide by Sergeant Pere.

" Your reverence is welcome," he lied quickly. " Most
welcome."

" How is it the Commandant comes not out to meet me?"
was the sharp question. " His name is De Celeron, is it
not ? " Then the charred embers of the guardhouse caught his
roving eye, and he stopped, frowned, said with a snap of steel in
his voice, " Where is this Captain who permits such destruc-
tion of property? Is McLeod here with him?" And as the
old soldier bowed low, " I will see him. He is a man to be
trusted. I cautioned De Vaudreil of incompetent children
placed at an outpost." Then he strode to the door of the
storehouse followed by a shaking figure, who knew not what
to expect, and least when to expect it.

He entered to discover the storekeeper with a girl, bending
over an officer seated in a chair at the window.

" McLeod," he said coldly, u this reception is of the
strangest. Different to your usual custom. This is the of-
ficer commanding? Yes? You and I will have much to
speak of, young sir. I hope for reasonable explanation from
you." Then he turned to Madeline. " Ah, my daughter, the
air agrees with you." Abject silence greeted his salutations,
and he turned quickly to the door. There was a mystery here.
From the disheveled state of the three, close together, some-
thing strange must surely have occurred. " What can it be? "
he muttered impatiently.

SERGEANT PERE MEETS FEAR! 133

The storekeeper recovered his wits. Followed to say hum-
bly, " I trust your reverence is well ; has come safely through
the danger of a long journey?" The Abbe turned swiftly
on him.

"I am well as you may see," he said briefly. "But," and
he laid stress on the word, " I am in need of explanation from
your commanding officer. What ails him?" he asked sharply,
for the man in question sat smoothing his forehead with vacant
air and shaking hand. " Has he been long afflicted in this
manner? "

Madeline came to the side of her father, whose face
streamed sweat. She was about to reply, when he stam-
mered, " He has been very ill, your reverence. Is feeble even
yet," he added, swallowing hard at the lump in his throat.

He had received a violent shock from which he had not
recovered when the Abbe entered. Now to encounter that
stern stare, the steady eyes, was near beyond him. He opened
his lips to stammer other words of welcome, but the chill
voice asked, " I trust all is well here. I will attend you later,
McLeod. When I have received report from your superior
officer." ^

" I fear, your reverence, that for some time, I, I — " he
mumbled lamely. Then blurted out, " Captain de Celeron is
dumb. He cannot speak."

"Dumb?" the other gasped. "Dumb? And when did
such affliction befall him ? Are you all in league to drive me to
distraction? What with a provoking old soldier who suffers
from that complaint, then, when he recovers, becomes over bold
and saucy — a captain who remains seated while I, the repre-
sentative of the King of France, am forced to stand — and
you, stammering, half witted — I am at a loss. I warn you,
storekeeper, I am a patient man, as you know. A very patient
man, but at this moment there is a limit to my patience. Be-
ware now. Speak quickly, if you would retain my favor."

To emphasize his reputation regarding the possession of
patient waiting, he strode up and down the boards with im-
patient feet. His violence, contrary to usual custom, warned
the storekeeper that the Very Reverend, The Abbe Picquet,
had changed not one iota of his hastiness since last he visited
Fort Toronto. Then suddenly he had other matters to think
on. The grim inspector came close, his angry countenance

134 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

thrust forward.

" Well, sirrah, have you thought long enough on an answer?
Shall the secular arm of authority whip speech to your lips?"

" Reverend sir," McLeod said slowly, " your authority here
to do as you shall please is unquestioned. I am prepared to
suffer if unwitting offense has been given you."

" Then in the name of all that is wonderful, begin. Begin
ere I am driven to violence." The speaker threw himself im-
patiently into a chair, intently regarding his companion. A
sharp glance he threw at the officer, gazing absently about on
all sides. The thought flashed across his mind this same
young man appeared to have forgotten much that was necessary
to a complete unraveling of a most mysterious happening.
" Commence, McLeod. I am weary and need rest."

At the moment Madeline came to the side of her father.
She had not really understood the illness of Captain de Cele-
ron, but she knew her father was in some way responsible,
and that his responsibility was like to get him into trouble
with the Abbe. With flushed face she fondled one cal-
loused hand seeking to find courage for her purpose. Then
she said bravely, " Reverend sir, my poor father also has been
ill. This morning he was seized with a fainting spell. You
may see, he is not yet himself — the once strong man you
found on your last visit." And the Abbe stared.

" Child," he said at last, " every man in this place seems to
have the same excuse. One is dumb, one has a fainting fit.
Is there one able-bodied soul in good health who may answer
my questions? Is the place bewitched that all suffer at the
same time? First, I am bewildered by a soldier disappearing
into the bowels of the earth ; secondly, the commander is dumb ;
now 'tis your father who is ill. Lastly, you, a child, attempt
excuses for a man who once was more than ready tongued."
He ceased for an instant. His sharp eyes caught sight of
Sergeant Pere stealthily entering the room. " You, soldier,"
he said with a frown. " Come hither. What excuse have
you?"

. " None, your worship," the old man said, saluting briskly.
He stood with his back to the open door. He was crafty even
in his fear. Though he now found it impossible to gain a
word with his crony alone, a nod was as good as a wink to
those who understood. Possibly the white-faced storekeeper

SERGEANT PERE MEETS FEAR! 135

would find some way to tell him how matters stood. Any-
way he would risk the matter. " I have no excuse, wor-
ship," he said blandly, his features blank as a stone wall. " I
am in good health and wait to answer any questions, to the
best of my poor ability, that you may care to ask."

" Enough of insolence, sirrah," came the sharp reproof.
" You presume. I am in no mood for jesting as you will find
to your sorrow."

" The last of my thoughts, reverence. But will it not please
you to retire? Refreshments will be provided in the adjoin-
ing room — 'tis rather comfortless at present, but you will ex-
cuse the accommodation, I trust, if you will retire there. My
tale is long, your excellence is doubtless weary, and 'twill take
some time to set before you the strange state of affairs reign-
ing at this outpost."

The studied pomposity of his manner, the extreme coolness
of his composed speech, was almost too much for the Abbe.
With difficulty he restrained a rising wrath. Suddenly he rose
frowning, a light in his eyes that boded ill for the future of
the man he considered impertinent.

" I will wait, sirrah," he said sternly. " Wait, yes, but
you have a care how you attempt to play with my authority.
Order my secretary and good Brother Alonzo to come hither.
See to my Indians. And remember, soldier," — the glare in his
eyes was discomforting to the three — " remember, none leave
here without my express command. And also remember your
explanation is short and to the point. I like not a dissembler,
as for a liar — well, you will not lie twice an I discover you
in the attempt."

Without another word he stalked from the room, through
a door held wide by a shaking storekeeper, and followed by the
frightened glance of a trembling girl. The door closed behind
his spare figure. Deep gloom settled on the storehouse; a
silence broken only by the fitful breathing of three persons.

Sergeant Pere was first to recover. " Name of a fish," he
whispered, " but we are like children caught at the jampot.
Whew!" he whistled, and McLeod looked horrified.

" Be careful," he muttered. " Be careful. Once I knew
him to disrate a Captain to the ranks for less than you said."

"Tut! Tut!" the old one said with a careful glance at
his little maid, clinging to the arm of her father, " I have faced

136 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

Dieskau when he was wild. He was bad to cross when hun-
gry and tired. A very lamb when rested. I will own this
blackbird—"

" Hush ! good soldier," a smooth voice said behind them,
and the three turned as one. " Hush, call us not names.
Dark skies hide the sun at times." And Ambrose shuffled
across the floor, his weight shaking the storehouse to its beams.
" Is there aught to eat? " he asked with a hungry sniffle.

Madeline quickly recovered her scared wits. " Aye, kind
sir," she said with a winning smile, eager to placate this man
who might carry tales to his master. " Good white bread and
great store of rare wines."

Immediately, the sebaceous one became all smiles.

"Good!" he said. "Good! When I come forth from
my master — " Here the three cast anxious glances at one
another, noted by Ambrose who smiled benevolently, " Never
fear," he said kindly, " I can be merciful to the unwary —
that is, when well fed and at ease — I can be dumb on occa-
sion. No doubt you are unprepared for us, but if you will
furnish me a small morsel? Ah, I should greatly appreciate
such favor."

" At once, sir," Madeline said quickly. " The instant you
come a meal shall await you."

" Thanks, maiden. Thanks. Good bread, rare wines.
Ah ! " The fat secretary smacked his thick lips at the thought.
He rather liked the idea of remaining in such comfortable quar-
ters with so ready a maid to wait on his whims. Jocularly
turning on Sergeant Pere, he said, " No more rash calling of
names, my good fellow. Now, lead me to my master, and
above all, forget not to have ready a small portion for me
when I am at leisure. White bread and venison steak. By
the way, maiden, I prefer my meat broiled." Then he en-
tered the inner room and was lost to sight.

McLeod stared, as did the old soldier. The voice of the
Abbe reprimanding his slow secretary reached their ears, and
for a few moments they listened eagerly to catch the conversa-
tion. The wooden separation was too thick, and both sighed,
giving up the attempt. Madeline stood with an anxious smile
on her face, that gave way to merriment as she caught the
whimsical look on the face of Sergeant Pere.

" Name of a fish, child," he said softly, " but what a weight.

SERGEANT PERE MEETS FEAR! 137

I was like to choke with laughter at him. Had Dieskau had
him at Brest we should never known cold. He would have
rendered his fat to oil and we should have warmed ourselves
at its burning." And his chuckles waxed fiercer, broken in
upon by the storekeeper with gloomy face.

" I see little cause for merriment," he said gruffly.
' 'Twere better we took counsel together. Decide on some
tale, and that quickly. I fear the Abbe who holds New France
in the hollow of his hand."

Sergeant Pere wiped his eyes. " I know. I know," he
said, quickly restored to his grim manner. " I should not
grin, but this secretary does he carry as much weight in the
counsels of his master as he does on his fat carcass ? "

' 'Tis no laughing matter," McLeod said angrily. " The
Abbe is swayed by none. What he decides, is, within the
bounds of New France. I fear his displeasure. I know him
of yore. He is terrible when angered."

Madeline gave a frightened cry, covering her face with both
hands. The dismal tone of her father, his woebegone coun-
tenance, led her to believe punishment waited on the appear-
ance of the Abbe he admitted fearing. Sergeant Pere came
close, patted her shoulder, saying testily, " Name of a fish,
McLeod, but you are a croaker. Once I had respect for your
opinion, but now it seems of little value save to scare maids.
I too feared this priest, though of course I know little of his
doings — "

" I say let us to work," the storekeeper exclaimed angrily,
his face paling to an ashy gray. " Let us work and not talk
too loud, either. He may overhear — "

" As I say," calmly continued the other, " I too feared this
priest, but when I spoke bravely, as man to man — "

" He terms such bravery, impudence," McLeod interrupted.

" That is where we differ, then. Never fear, my little one,
we shall come safely through. Your father has a touch of
black dog this day. He could not see good in an angel from
Heaven were such to come in his present mood."

The old man laughed long, but in his heart he had many
misgivings. Tenderly patting the girl's shoulder, he passed
from the room, and when he came to the open scowled about
to see any hapless wight who needed his correction. Nothing
was amiss. Previous to the moment when he had entered the

i38 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

storehouse, deliberately planning boldness to the visitor in the
attempt to avert displeasure from the storekeeper and turn it
in his own direction, he had placed sentries round the walls.
To the casual observer nothing appeared out of place, save
that the charred embers of the guardhouse blackened a fair
scene.

" Name of a fish," he muttered suddenly, " I forgot the
Indians! There can be none about or some of us would be
half way to heaven or the other spot. I am puzzled to ac-
count for their disappearance. Why, how and when those
dogs moved off." Then he came to his quarters.

The place was foul with refuse, the bed tossed on the floor,
and his few trinkets had followed the former occupants.
Otherwise he discovered nothing wrong and speedily two men
were set to work making the rooms once again habitable. He
stood wondering if the nightmare howls of the besiegers had
been anything but a bad dream. With a shake of the head
he turned to see a tall thin man pacing to and fro wrapped in
deep thought and hurried to his side.

" Reverence," he said, as the other nodded kindly, " a re-
past will soon be furnished in that building across from here,"
pointing to the storehouse. " You must be tired. We will
not keep you long."

" My son, I am busy thinking. Food is very well, but
mental excitement better. I have discovered a plant I thought
only to grow in warmer climates. See ! " he said, clasping
the other's sleeve, holding up a withered weed. " What think
you of this? Ha! Ha! my good brother Decimus was mis-
taken in his botany after all."

Sergeant Pere smiled deferentially. " I am glad to see you
pleased, kind sir," he said quickly, " but I must to the kitchen.
Hungry men will not be pleased with but plants for dinner."
The other nodded absently. Already he was disputing
learnedly with the man who had corrected his learning.

" He seems a good soul," the old man said, " though some-
what gone in the upper story. However, I have not time to
give to his whims. I must to that croaker, McLeod. For
the life of me I know not what tale to invent." He paused
on the wide steps. " Name of a fish, now if I were a good
liar. I fear invention was denied me at birth. McLeod will
suffer if I do not arrive at some story, but what? What tale

SERGEANT PERE MEETS FEAR! 139

will hold water to this angry visitor of ours? He is but a
man — " Then he added, " I fear him though, I fear him."
He tried to whistle as he entered the storehouse. McLeod
he saw seated with covered face by the open window, and
moved over to him. " How now, man, moping yet? Where
is Madeline ? " But the other raised his features with an
angry scowl, his sole response a muttered protest at being dis-
turbed. " Name of a fish, man, one would think you heard
your funeral chimes," he said impatiently. "If I must try
lying I will, to save you — not that your carcass is worth the
trouble, but there is Madeline to be thought on. Now, where
is she? In the cookhouse, eh? Well, why could you not
have said so at once, and saved me wind? " He turned away;
crossed the stockade, hurrying at the sound of laughter.

CHAPTER XV

THE ABBE HEARS A TRUTHFUL (?) MAN

SERGEANT PERE pricked up his long ears. Merri-
ment, after the groans of the past week, was something new.
To his great surprise, as he stood in the doorway of the quar-
ters devoted to the cook who reigned at Fort Toronto, he dis-
covered a charming girl busy at the making of bread. Her
sleeves rolled up above dimpled elbows. Lips smiling merrily
as she called on her willing assistant, Francis Birnon, to per-
form numberless tasks he awkwardly, yet most willingly per-
formed.

" Name of a fish, my child," he said, entering to stand by
the bread trough placed on one side of the roomy kitchen,
"where is cookie? Must you turn baker? Whew!" he
added, hastily removing himself from the huge clay oven, red
hot with a roaring fire, kindled by the assistant cook, " but
this is hotter than our cellar in which we well nigh steamed
to death. Where is the dolt that spoils good victuals ? "

She lost her smile to reply; very anxious, and exceeding
serious.

" Absent for that very good reason," she said. " I dare not
risk our reputation to further anger the Abbe and his secre-
tary. You know the usual bread we eat — "

" I do. Stone unless you make it."

" Then that is why I am here. His reverence must be
pleased."

" I have ever heard it whispered, 'tis best to stand friends
with learning, but methinks the fat one finds all he can do to
look after his own wants. He, at least, will have small time
for us."

" He is a good soul — has a soft heart, I am sure."

" I may swear to his soft body, child. 'Tis a mountain of
softness ; as for his heart — Hum ! " Then he added with
some trace of anxiety, " What is there to feed them on ? We
have no fresh deer meat, no fish — fortunately 'tis not Friday
— and there is not one solitary liquor seeking dog to replenish

140

THE ABBE HEARS A TRUTHFUL (?) MAN 141

our starved larder with game of any kind."

Madeline smiled. " Trust to me," she said. " You go to
poor father and keep him company." Here she gave her slave
a gentle push with floury hands, hinting that two were com-
pany and three a number too many for the important prepara-
tions on hand to please authority. " Begone, sir ! " she added
in pretended anger, and he walked off, the first real smile on
his lips for near a week.

" Name of a fish," he muttered, " I have heard that too
many cooks spoil the soup. They are not making soup there,
though — that is one comfort or I fear 'twould be oversweet.
There is much sugar on cook's lips by the look the other casts
in her direction." Then he came to the storehouse, to be im-
patiently greeted by his crony, waiting at the door.

"What keeps you?" he asked angrily. "From the ex-
pression on your face one would suppose a wedding invitation
was yours in place of a command to tie a rope about your silly
neck."

" The wedding knot and the hangman's noose are both un-
comfortable. The last best, being the soonest ended."

" Sergeant, in the Name of the Saints cease foolery. Twice
has the Abbe demanded your presence. Does that restore your
wit?"

The old one grew grave. The mask dropped from his fea-
tures. Into his eyes came a desperate look; the look of a man
driven to the wall. Frivolity fell from his face as falls a
discarded garment. Once again he was the stern sergeant of
foot who had served under Dieskau at Brest.

" Name of a fish," he muttered, " I am at my wits' end."

" The journey was short," came the sarcastic comment.

For many moments, in spite of the fact an angry authority
waited on one man's appearance, the two stood silent, think-
ing, scheming some story to account for the peculiar conduct
of their officer. Then the old man snapped his fingers under
the nose of his companion, saying with a wide grin, " I have
it. I have it. The Missassagas! Where they are, where
they went, what they do now, I do not know, but they shall
bear the blame. They shall be responsible for his silence.
They are not here to deny it. If they were, would be hard
put to it to explain why they attacked us. Hearken, I will
tell the tale — you shall swear to its truth. Come, we are safe

i42 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

for a few moments. Let us in."

The storekeeper was about to inquire more closely into the
merits of a tale that was, perhaps, to place him in the role
of perjurer. The creaking of the boards at his back warned
silence, and the two turned to greet the fat man standing in
the wide entrance.

" My master, the Most Reverend, The Abbe Picquet, com-
mands your attendance," he began pompously, but was brushed
hurriedly to one side by Sergeant Pere jumping upstairs three
at a time. "If it fall to my lot to deal with you at any
time — " he muttered. Then followed slowly, leaving his half
threat to be interpreted by McLeod, whose face as he walked,
moved convulsively, ash gray in color.

He entered the inner room to find the Abbe seated at a
table, his precious journal opened before him. The secretary
busied himself with a quill pen; Sergeant Pere, stiffly erect,
his face expressive as a graven image; blank as the clean page
turned to record his explanation, faced the stern man, waiting
impatiently.

" Ah, soldier," he said slowly, " at last. Why did you not
immediately respond to my summons ? " His piercing gaze
near unnerved the old man and he repeated sharply, " Why
did you not respond?"

" I knew naught of it, reverence," came the calm answer.
" I was at work preparing for those who came with your honor."

" Enough ! Proceed. Ambrose, take a quill and write.
Now, I warn you, soldier, think well on what you say."

Sergeant Pere had need to consider. The excuse of assault-
ing Missassaga, so plausible a story outside under a smiling
sky, seemed suddenly but a child's tale, inside, where sat a
frowning, austere priest. He snatched one glance at McLeod.
To his horror, the man seemed like to fall. Seeking to gain
time, while his brain steadied, he said very slowly, " Reverend
sir, 'tis not given to me, a common soldier of foot, to have at
hand ready words with which to greet in due form your most
illustrious excellency."

" Do you think to play with me, soldier? Leave such flat-
tery if it be possible to your aggravating tongue. Speak
plainly, ere I am tempted to send you in irons to Fort Niagara."

" As I was about to say, your lordship," the old man con-
tinued, outwardly calm, though his heart searched his boots

THE ABBE HEARS A TRUTHFUL (?) MAN 143

at the mention of irons, " as I was about to say, 'tis hard for
me to answer in words to so honorable a personage as your-
self, but, an you will have patience with my poor speech and
manner, I will endeavor to place before you to the best of my
ability, the suffering we have endured at the hands of the
Missassagas, who for six long days and six longer nights, be-
sieged us to the peril of our lives." Here he paused to clear
his throat of some fancied obstruction, and the Abbe frowned.

" Rank nonsense, I repeat, that my Indians should have
dared," he snapped out.

" I repeat, lordship, that they did so, and we found the
danger very real. Only once in my experience have — "

" Of all things most irritating is an old soldier-woman,"
interrupted the Abbe. He began to see that if he desired ex-
planation, he must allow the man before him to tell his tale in
his own way. " Proceed," he said shortly, and as Sergeant
Pere made great show of again clearing his throat, he added
significantly, " The noose is a cure for coughing, soldier."
The hint enough to induce hurried speech.

" Most reverend sir, on the night of the twenty-third — no,
I am wrong, 'twas the twenty-fourth — the night of the twen-
ty-fourth, because on that day I was spared from death — "

* 'Twas something of a pity," came the dry interruption.

" As your reverend lordship is pleased to think — but on
the night of the twenty-fourth, we having set the guard —
Captain de Celeron having set the guard, I mean to say — we
were interrupted by an Indian maid."

" Where is she? " came the sharp question, and the old man
smiled.

" Patience, I pray you, reverence. All will be related in
due course. An it will please you to wait until I come to that
part—"

" Patience, sirrah, I am bursting with impatience. Leave
details, or I am like to be detained until morning. Haste, if
'tis possible to your aggravating tongue. Haste! " And the
speaker sat forward in his chair, his hasty manner causing Ser-
geant Pere to realize that not much longer could he spin out
his story to gain time. " Go on, soldier."

" We were interrupted, as I have related, by an Indian girl
bringing news of an attack upon this place. I informed Mc-
Leod — that is, Captain de Celeron — "

144 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

" Where was he ? At the moment, who was in command ?
The incisive tone clipped short the monotonous relation. The
Abbe was keen to note the slip of the other. " Had your of-
ficer fallen dumb prior to the appearance of this girl? " Again
he leaned forward to coldly stare, while Sergeant Pere found
those two eyes disconcerting to continued relation. His nar-
row escape set his heart to thumping loud.

" Captain de Celeron was not dumb at that particular mo-
ment, reverence," he managed to say calmly. ' 'Twas later,
when I discussed the matter with McLeod."

"An you discussed it as fully as you are prone to discuss
matters foreign to the relation of the story I am waiting for,
you had much time to waste. But I suppose, if I ever am
to come at what you intend to say, I must allow you to have
your own way. I will, for the present."

Here the tired Doctor of the Sorbonne closed his eyes for
the fraction of a second, taken advantage of by Sergeant Pere
to wink many times in succession at his crony, horror stricken
at his daring.

"As you are pleased to say, reverence," he began again.
" Though we had little time to waste that evening, I assure
you. To continue. Preparations were made for the pig-dog
savages, but they were on us ere we were ready, and though
we defended ourselves valiantly, were unable to prevent the
destruction of our guardhouse."

The Abbe roused himself to say, " You leave the relation
of the most important part until last," he said, opening wide
his eyes. " How comes it that your officer was wounded ?
How came he to receive his injury? Why was it he, and he
alone received the only injury any one of you seem to have re-
ceived ? Where were you, sirrah ? Drunk ? Asleep ? "

Sergeant Pere saluted sharply from sheer force of habit.
The imperious air, the sharp questions snapped from thin lips,
reminded him of the officers he was accustomed to obey with-
out thought. Again he saluted, his heart touching the zero of
hopelessness. His ready tongue stilled to dumbness; his tight-
shut lips unable to speak.

" Dumb again, my man ? " the Abbe snapped out. " Dumb
at the most convenient seasons. Granted you all fought to the
last as you would have me believe, and were injured — as I
more than doubt, save in your imagination — why was your

THE ABBE HEARS A TRUTHFUL (?) MAN 145

officer the only man wounded? How came he to be stricken
dumb?"

McLeod, standing to the rear out of range of the Abbe's
eye, allowed a groan to escape him, quickly noted by the man
of authority who turned half round in his chair. But Sergeant
Pere was on the alert. Calmly, with a glance reassuring his
crony, whose cause he was fighting to the best of his ability, he
replied distinctly, " Captain de Celeron received his injuries in
a desperate struggle with a more than desperate man." And
the storekeeper gasped his relief, plainly audible in the silence.

"You hold much affection for this officer, McLeod?" the
Abbe asked kindly. His keen ears had caught the sound.
" Can you tell me who dared such madness? " He knew the
man well. He would tell the truth did he know it. The
studied relation of this grizzled soldier needed a truthful wit-
ness as to its verity. " You hold much affection for Captain
de Celeron ? " he asked again. And as the storekeeper started,
was about to unbosom himself, Sergeant Pere jumped into the
breach.

" Our commander sought his daughter, an it please you,
reverence," he said quietly. " I know that I should be silent
on so delicate a matter, but — "

" Ha! now I do understand your grief, friend storekeeper,
and I grieve with you," the Abbe said quickly. ' "Tis most
unfortunate this affliction, for of course they may not wed until
he be in his rightful mind once more. A pity — great pity, I
should' have been happy to officiate at such an occasion." Here
he shook his head benevolently, but McLeod barely restrained
a gasp of amazement at the bare thought of such undesired
ceremony.

The Abbe, Prefect Apostolic of all New France, was to his
generation something of a visionary. His dream, the coloniza-
tion of the country he served with all the ardor of love by
people of gentle birth. Hourly he thought of a proud genera-
tion descending from the best blood of his beloved Old France
that should populate the vast silences through which he traveled.
He knew the league-wide fertile plains needed but cultivation
to become the granary of the world. And with that river of
wheat pouring millions on millions of bushels of golden grain
toward the old land, who among the nations of the world could
dare resist the mighty, inexhaustible power drawn from that

146 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

glistening stream of wealth? What country had ever possessed
such a banker this New France would prove, under proper
colonization, cultivation and kind attention?

He sat lost in thought at the magnitude of the schemes his
busy brain invented. The future became the present to his
vivid imagination. The scanty population grew to millions;
wheat rolled in one continuous stream toward the east; cities
rose; the land blossomed like some fair garden, and he had
been called to receive his well won meed of praise and merit.
The touch of a king's hand upon his arm —

He roused himself to respond, finding his secretary timidly
placing one shaking finger on his elbow. " Will it please your
reverence that the examination be at an end ? " he heard the
fat one sniffle. In a moment he was wide awake. Dreaming
done. Business of the moment needed practical attention.

" Ah, I had near forgotten," he said harshly. " Where were
we? Proceed, soldier. Proceed!" And Sergeant Pere's
hopes of forgetfulness of the matter in hand were dashed crip-
pled to the earth. " Proceed, I say."

"Where shall I commence, reverence," he asked slowly.
" I have lost the thread of my story."

The secretary, anxious to please his master, drawled out
solemnly, " Captain de Celeron received his injury at the hands
of a desperate man." He ended, with a pompous glance at
the old man, who stared viciously at him for the space of some
five seconds.

" Ah, just so," interjected the Abbe, now fully wide eyed and
alert. "Would you know that man again, soldier?"

" 'Twas dark, sir — dark as a wolf's throat. I could not
discern his features during the struggle. When 'twas light,
my officer lay senseless on the floor, and my hands were full."

" No doubt. Then you are certain you would not know
him again? Set down his reply, Ambrose. The exact words.
Now, soldier."

Again the old man hesitated. He could almost feel the store-
keeper shaking in his boots. He gulped hard at the lie, then
answered sturdily, " No, reverend sir, I would not. When
'twas light enough, McLeod and, and myself were the only
three in the guardhouse."

" Too bad he escaped. However, I presume you did your
duty? Proceed."

THE ABBE HEARS A TRUTHFUL (?) MAN 147

" Then, reverence, the assault took place. Scores of yell-
ing savages beset us. We retreated here. Held it against
innumerable attacks until water was gone and hope with it.
We were forced as a last desperate chance to tunnel out for
water — "

" That accounts for the hole that so puzzled me," the Abbe
exclaimed, his eyes half closing with fatigue, a satisfied air on
his features. And Sergeant Pere congratulated himself on hav-
ing turned the corner of an exceedingly nasty road successfully,
and with some credit. He was startled by the next question
falling from the lips of his questioner; one that made him pause
ere he committed himself to an answer. " Would you know
those savages again?" He wondered if he would. " If 'twas
dark during those wonderful relations of yours, you may be in
error. May asperse my Missassagas. Where live these wild
savages who assault Fort Toronto, to disappear the moment of
my arrival?" With half a sneer, "Imagination, soldier?"
' 'Twas not imagination, your lordship," the other answered
with some heat. " You may see for yourself, many a bullet
hole in the wood."

" Ah, well, wood is not easily injured, my good man." Here
the Abbe rose suddenly, came close, to say harshly, " Hearken,
my sergeant of foot, I like not the story you have found such
difficulty in relating. Though I am forced from circumstances
to permit you in command here, do not think I am a child to be
played with. You and this storekeeper — I know him of yore
a truthful man — have had some dealings together. That much
is evident. As I said, he was once truthful, and honest, though
at present he keeps company with one who is like to change his
reputation. You two have seen some strange dealings — I am
not certain of what they were. If for one moment I prove you
have deceived me — well, enough on that subject. You will
repent, soldier, I assure you. Now, command those Missas-
sagas to appear before me to-morrow. In the stockade. Their
chief may enlighten me as to what you were about, the night he
attacked this place." Without another word he turned, strode
from the room followed by his secretary.

Bewildered as he was at the order, Sergeant Pere retained
sufficient soldier sense to salute. For the life of him he could
not have replied obeyance by word of mouth. The startling
order took away his breath. His scalp seemed to creep with a

148 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

new sense of parting. The hand at his glazed cap trembled
with something near akin to fear. Then McLeod stole silently
to his side and the pair moved out to the open, staring wonder-
ment into each other's eyes.

" Is he raving mad ? " the Sergeant said after a long silence.
" Gather together a howling mob of wolves as though they were
a drove of innocent sheep? What manner of man is he?
Think you he is — " Here he touched his forehead signifi-
cantly. But the other shook a gloomy head.

" No keener brain exists in all New France," was his serious
response. " Did I not warn you he was terrible ? "

" Terrible ! yes, to some, but not to me. Did I not fool him
properly, and I did not lie — save once."

McLeod shivered. Caught at the shoulder of the other with
some violence. " Swear to me," he said, " that should he dis-
cover the truth of how you made sport of him — why Captain
de Celeron was unable to protect this place — that you will
take the child and fly from here. For me, there is little hope.
He will hold me strictly to account. I know it."

" How in the name of a fish is he to come at the truth? He
tarries here for no other purpose than to address his pets."
Here Sergeant Pere hesitated. He wondered whether his given
task would be successful. " Name of ten thousand devil fish,"
he muttered angrily, " I may wear less hair to-morrow, do I
find those tame ones he prates of." And he ruefully rubbed his
bald cranium where little enough gray thatch remained.
Barely sufficient to tempt any save a savage to the labor of re-
moving the remnants of a long-departed crown of glory.

" He is far from satisfied," McLeod said slowly. " He but
gives you — us — time to catch us tripping, and then — "

" Did I vex my mind with such thoughts as ramble through
your brain, I would soon be in my last six feet of earth. Come !
we are not yet hung — "

" To-morrow may see us reaching for the earth at the end
of a rope," came the frowning reply, and the other scowled.

" Well, we do not dance to-night, if that console you," he
said. " Come ! let us to work. Shake off this gloom. The
hemp is not planted that will stretch our necks."

He passed one arm about the shoulders of his crony. Even
attempted a dismal croaking intended for a song, harsh enough
to call forth approval from a hungry dog smelling the feast.

THE ABBE HEARS A TRUTHFUL ( ?) MAN 149

But all his efforts to enliven the other were unavailing. Mc-
Leod was as a man traveling in the dark. Never a jovial char-
acter, the sudden appearance of the Abbe drowned him in a
sea of melancholy, whose turbid waters threatened to end his
life. Sergeant Pere gave up the attempted merriment. With
a determined effort threw off his own forebodings. Leaving
his crony pacing the stockade he sought his little cabbage, fling-
ing himself into a bustle of preparation with right good will.

When at the end of two hours a feast fit for a prince groaned
on long tables spread in the storehouse, and the Abbe with
Brother Alonzo had sparingly regaled their appetites, he sought
Madeline, seated on the wide stoop. " Name of a fish, little one,
where did you find such provender ? " he asked with a wide
grin.

" There was flour in plenty, with venison dried in abundance.
I had but to make pasties. The corn, Monsieur Birnon
gathered from that patch behind the Fort. I trust the Abbe is
satisfied?"

The old man smiled down at her flushed face. " Name of all
cooks," he said with intent to tease, " do you succeed as a wife
one half so well as you do a cook, the stranger has discovered
a treasure many men would die to possess. He will possess
you ? " he added, and she blushed, though gathering twilight
prevented the other from discovering his random shot had
scored heavily on the target of her affection.

" I trust him to you," she murmured softly. " He is very
dear to me."

" I will not allow such treasure to go unattended," Sergeant
Pere answered as softly, squeezing her fingers. Then discover-
ing his eyes obscured by a moisture, he swore at their weakness,
as he walked over to order the guards relieved.

CHAPTER XVI

HOW ONE SOLDIER RECOVERED SEVEN

OERGEANT PERE, in the privacy of his renovated quar-
Oters, sprawled full length on a rustling corn-husk mat-
tress. The long wooden pipe puffed at contentedly, occa-
sionally removed from his mouth, allowed volumes of smoke
and many chuckles to rise from wide lips. His uniform was
hung carefully on a wooden peg. For he wore a woodsman's
clothes, and their tight-fitting scantiness revealed a most at-
tenuated shape.

" Name of a fish,'* he smiled sourly, " did he suspect the tale
I told to be first cousin to a lie, I should sweat drops of blood
for such insolence. I think I have him though. Since supper
he has not said one word to me — though McLeod, I suspect,
is catching it finely about his bookkeeping. He has been there
long. 'Tis time he came to me." And a scowl settled on his
forehead at the thought.

Suddenly the door opened, and the man he muttered of en-
tered, pale, haggard, and white lipped. He came to the bed-
side, and as he spoke his voice trembled with excitement.

" Sergeant," he said quickly, " he is a fearful one to handle.
I have been with him four mortal hours, worried by questions
as to what I have done in the matter of trade. What think you
he told me?"

" If you mean his lordship, I should say, that you were keep-
ing company with a dissolute sergeant of foot; that you were
likely to lose what little honesty you were possessed of at birth ;
that—"

" Cease, for the love of the Saints, man," the other burst
out. " He told me the Brother who came with him was a skilled
man of medicine. That he held out hope of restoring Captain
de Celeron to speech ! Now, what have you to say ? "

Sergeant Pere jumped from the bed. Stared silently for one
moment. Then he stretched his long arms, and placed a chair.
"Why all this to do?" he asked calmly. "Did I not settle
matters to your liking?"

150

HOW ONE SOLDIER RECOVERED SEVEN 151

" That was to-day — this morning. For a time only — "

" Let to-morrow care for itself, then."

" You forget Captain de Celeron may speak."

" I shall remember if he does. Now, tell me, how came he
to recover in such quick manner? I came near falling dead
with fright to see him when I entered to admit blackrobe — "

" Hush ! Hush ! " McLeod said, starting to his feet, listening
for the sound of eavesdropping footsteps. " Oh, what fools
some men be," he added, wearily dropping back into the chair,
wiping the sweat streaming from a white forehead.

" We are all brothers in that respect, McLeod. A fool I am
to be here, a greater fool to admit to my quarters a more fearful
fool. One would think to hear your voice that this governor-
doctor-priest, or whatever be his righteous title, possessed you
both body and soul."

" He does, as he does yours — as he does every man's within
the limits of his jurisdiction. He is all powerful in this place,
all powerful."

"Name of a fish, do I question his authority?" came the
testy question. " I know he is officer of New France, but so
am I. To do me harm he must prove good cause of offense
against me."

"If he but knew, he has that to hand already."

"Yes, but he is ignorant. What may he do on suspicion?
You said naught to him, I hope?"

" No, though I feared that he would question me as he did
you. I know him. You do not. 'Tis easy to be brave when
one is ignorant. If he find your tale thin in the web, he is
like to change the pattern of the clothes you wear. That in a
hurry."

" No doubt he is a skilled weaver, but I told him truth —
at least 'twas so after a fashion, and whatever he is, he cannot
change the thread of my existence."

" No," came the fearful reply, " but he may cut it short."

" Then if he does, my time is come and I have yet to know
the fear of death."

McLeod rose from his chair, to stare into deep steady eyes.
!< There be others to think on, my friend," he whispered.
" Others. A man may not fear his own end, but he may fear
the consequences of that end to friends he is forced to leave
behind." And the Sergeant scowled.

I52 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

" True. True," he mused, " Too much truth to please me
at the moment. But I repeat, I am not frightened of this old
bird — "

" For the love of us all have a care," McLeod interrupted.
" You know not who may be set to spy on us. Call him what
you please, when you please, but for the love of the Blessed
Saints, wait until I am absent." And his fear was evident by
the hurried manner in which he crossed the room to peer out to
a starlit night.

" Oh, I will be careful," the other almost sneered, as with
near a glance of contempt he struck spark from flint and steel
to light a forgotten pipe. " Now tell me," he went on, mo-
tioning his companion to his side, " tell me how De Celeron
came to be standing at the window, white as a ghost seeking a
spot to hide from the sun."

" He wakened from deep sleep, rose from his bed, looked
about him in surprise, then moved to where you saw him. I
sent Madeline from the room, dressed him in his uniform, and
that is all."

" Enough, too. He made my heart seek my mouth, and it
has not sought that place since I sought to dodge my first bullet.
How knew you he was dumb? "

" Madeline spoke to him, but he stared vacantly. Shook his
head, making noises in his throat. Then he moved to the win-
dow. Sat there waiting until you entered."

" I trust he waits till the Abbe be gone ere he opens his
mouth," came the dry response. " 'Twill not matter much
what he says when they have all departed."

" Pray God they go soon," McLeod spoke devoutly, and his
crony grinned.

" I second that prayer, friend. Now if this doctor black-
robe — Do not be alarmed," he said half angrily as the other
started, " none can hear us. Now, should speech be restored
to our Captain, we shall be in a tight place. For myself,"
here he shrugged with careless affectation, " it means but a
trifle of a beating — for you, a tongue thrashing from the
Abbe, which you will not forget. For Madeline, naught."
He hesitated thinking of Birnon. " Name of a fish," he said,
" I had clean forgotten the stranger. If he be found, for him
it means a rope."

He jumped to his feet. With bent brows strode the narrow

HOW ONE SOLDIER RECOVERED SEVEN 153

room. Here was one point he had altogether forgotten. How
was this wounded man to be accounted for? If Captain de
Celeron regained speech, his first remembrance would be of the
one who had crossed his path in love. That much the old
soldier was very sure of, and his knitted brows scowled horri-
bly. ' 'Twas well I sent him down the lake," he muttered.
" He has food and weapons, but if we are detained, will he re-
turn in search of the little one? From what I know of him
he will not be content to leave us to our fate." And the plans
he had gloated over seemed gone very far astray. He was
about to mention his uneasiness. A glance at the frightened
features opposite hinted caution and he endeavored to hide the
disquiet gnawing at his heart. " You doubtless thought I was
at my wits' end," he smiled. " Thought priests were wiser
than soldiers ? "

" I cannot think, Sergeant. I am not the man I once was."

" Listen. Birnon lies concealed down the lake with a canoe.
Does Captain de Celeron recover, and we have hint of it, we
shall soon be after him."

" By all the Saints you surpass me," McLeod whispered
brokenly. " Thank the Blessed Mary for that slight chance of
escape." He covered his face with two shaking hands that re-
vealed how a once strong man, broken spirited, came near to
becoming a coward for the sake of a woman.

The old man grinned widely, but in his heart he feared. He
forced calmness to his lips, but the thought of his officer speak-
ing, gripped his soul to numbness. The sick one might recover
and spoil all.

" Did I not tell you, my friend, this mighty churchman was
little to be afraid of? " he said bravely. " If we are forced to
fly, we have but to cross the lake and throw ourselves on the
mercy of the British, who I know to be bad enemies to their
foes, but good friends to the helpless and oppressed as we shall
be."

" We may not be forced to leave," McLeod said doubtfully.
He had small liking for a journey through the midst of the
swarming Iroquois on the other side of the lake, with a loved
daughter to protect. " We may not have to go," he repeated
in a more hopeful manner, and his companion smiled.

" We may not, but I am one leaving little to chance. Now,
friend storekeeper, 'tis time you went to bed. Good night."

i54 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

McLeod almost smiled. " Aye, I trust 'twill be i
night where you intend going," he said wistfully.

" Why of course it will. Bed is a safe place."

" But by the clothes you wear you do not purpose such safety.
I overheard your orders to Peche. If you were absent from
parade to-morrow, he was to acquaint the Abbe of your night
journey. I was not sure you intended summoning the Mis-
sassagas this evening, but your attire assures me of your pur-
pose. I have never before seen you out of uniform. You wear
a woodsman's dress which is contrary to regulations. Are you
satisfied?" And the old man scowled.

" True," he muttered, hesitating, his scarred face going red.
Never, since he had taken the oath to serve His Most Gracious
Majesty, King Louis XIV, had he ever appeared abroad in other
garments than a soldier's clothes. And that was many a year
gone by. More years, in fact, than he cared reminder of.
" True, I do break the Articles of War in so doing, but —
name of a fish, I must go, yet I cannot go jangling a cartload
of iron with me, announcing to the red devils my whereabouts.
I must see for myself what temper they be in ere I summon
them to the Fort."

' 'Tis no great offense," McLeod said hastily. He was
quick to note the sore subject of apparel that hinted at desertion
in the other's mind. And he hurried to quote examples of
many brave officers who from necessity and from love of coun-
try had attired themselves in mufti. " There was Lieutenant
Beausejour," he began.

" Hanged by the British for a spy," came the grim interrup-
tion.

" Well, Captain Sorel, then."

" Stuck full of pine splinters and roasted to a cinder. They
only knew what came of a brave soldier by the metal tab he
carried."

" O'h, well, they had to assume such risks," McLeod hurried
to say, seeing his examples but made matters the worse. Then
he added slyly, " Of course I can go alone, if you — "

" If I am afraid? Why hesitate? Of a truth I like not the
idea of a dance on naught."

" The hemp is not grown that will hang us. You said so."

" And I am also afraid of fire," the other continued calmly,
though the banter touched him on the raw, " that is, when it

HOW ONE SOLDIER RECOVERED SEVEN 155

comes too near my skin. But you may jeer an you will, I am
determined to acquaint myself of the temper of these dogs ere
I let them in here. If I do see fit, of course the chief dog of
the lot will lie to their father as they call the Abbe. 'Twill
keep him from asking questions of us, that is one comfort.
Now if you are ready — " Hastily extinguishing the lantern,
he opened the door for his crony to pass out, closing it quietly
behind him.

As they moved silently along, he muttered, " We may come
back with our hair in the place appointed for its growth,
but — " To end his sentence he shrugged. In his own mind
doubt of the fact prevailed.

At their approach the sentry unbarred the heavy gate. With
a word of caution, that he was not to fire until sure at what he
aimed, both stepped out to the gloom. Waited until dropped
bars announced the Fort as secure as was possible in a land
where nothing was secure save a man's honor. Even that per-
sonal belonging sometimes leaving New France more than tar-
nished, especially when the owner had opportunity to dip into
the treasure box at Quebec.

As their figures faded into obscurity, the soldier resumed his
pacing. "Sure at what I aimed?" he muttered. "Were I
sure the bullet I sent would bite his heart, I would be sure
with a vengeance. Curse him, I say, for his treatment of men
all better than the best bone of his rotten carcass." With a
surly growl he spat viciously, thinking of the many afflictions
undergone at the hands of his Sergeant. " I trust he never
returns," he added angrily.

The old soldier, unconscious of the dark wish, was keenly
alive to approach of any open enemy. As he and his companion
stole through the tall aisled forest, coming near to the Missas-
saga encampment, a ruddy glare startled both. Silently they
halted, casting glances about on all sides.

"Fire! At this hour?" whispered McLeod. "Can they
be at a council? "

11 The devil alone knows what such dogs would do at any
time," was the irritable reply. Sergeant Pere was not himself.
The six-day strain had told heavily on his ancient body — de-
stroyed something of his once care-free manner. Then the ap-
pearance of the Abbe. His stern authority, the sense of his
civil power, oppressed the devil-may-care sergeant of foot. Fas-

156 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

tened on his mind an overpowering sense of danger. ' The
devil alone knows," he added slowly, and McLeod shook his
head in assent.

" You may rest assured, he holds high place," he whispered.
" But why they should summon even his help at this hour passes
my wits."

" Let us crawl close. You understand their cackle."

With one accord they dropped on all fours, crawling to
within twenty feet of a huge fire leaping skyward with crack-
ling roar. Round the blaze sat some twenty old men; be-
hind them stood many young braves, all painted with colors,
the various signs of the tribe of the Crane. One tall, bent
Indian was earnestly speaking. As earnest a hearing given
his sober words, evidenced by the grave faces of the silent
hearers.

"Who is this preacher?" Sergeant Pere whispered to the
storekeeper, lying full length at his side.

" One I thought long dead. The uncle of Wabacommegat,"
came the astonished cautious answer. " He was a brave and
a good man." Then he touched his companion for silence, as
above the sputtering of the logs, a clear chill voice pitched in
the accents of the aged reached their ears.

" Children of the Tribe of the Crane," the old one com-
menced, " I, whose voice has long been lost to your councils,
say again your Chief has departed from wise paths and straight
courses. He leads his young men astray. The white man's
belt of peace he casts aside at the whisper of lust. What do
you do, men of the Missassagas? Do you readily offer bare
necks to the ropes of the French, your good allies? Offer your
wives and children as a sacrifice for treachery? Long life, my
brothers, is not gained by crooked ways. The forest spoke to
me as I journeyed, and I stole from the side of my master the
good father, to warn you of his anger — to warn you of the
folly that causes weak children to match weaker wills against
the just anger of a parent."

A violent fit of coughing caused him to cease, and Sergeant
Pere whispered, " I see the crowd hide their scarecrow faces.
What says he to them?" But McLeod shook his head, and
the other closed his eyes as if seeking sleep. Then the old
Indian, taking one step forward, pointed an accusing finger at
Wabacommegat, sitting with his face covered in a fold of tat-

HOW ONE SOLDIER RECOVERED SEVEN 157

tered blanket.

" Do you think to lead your young men against sworn allies?
Think to match knives with the muskets of your masters?
Does the hare hunt the wild cat? Dare you place young men
against warriors, who bend enemies to their strength as bows the
forest to the breath of Manitou? Wabacommegat, my sister's
son, pause in this madness. Forget the evil in your mind.
Think on what our father, who waits at yonder Fort to have
speech with you — he who bears a message from over the bit-
ter waters — will do to the young men you sought to lead to
murder against his people. I warn you to think well. Warn
you to seek this great man, plead with him for mercy."

Again a violent spasm seized him, preventing speech. This
time it was McLeod who eagerly touched his companion. " I
remember what became of him now," he whispered. " He was
baptized into the Church by the Abbe. Followed him to
Quebec, resigning the Missassagas to Wabacommegat."

" Name of a fish, but he is different to his drunken nephew
then. But what does he say to the unhung wretche's that
causes them to start? When he finishes wake me," the Ser-
geant muttered drowsily, but his crony warned him to silence,
whispering he would repeat word for word the speech of the
old man who commenced again in a tired and feeble voice.

" Children of the Tribe of the Crane," he said slowly, " I
who was once your Chief counsel that you heed not the words
of Wabacommegat, but urge you to at once make peace with
the good father. Well for you it is I learned of your assault
on yonder outpost — stole hither to waf n you, ere it be too
late." He hesitated to scan the scowling faces, and McLeod
whispered again in the ear of his companion.

" He must have journeyed with the Abbe," he said. " Now
I understand."

" 'Tis more than I do then," came the angry answer. " Tell
me when he is through, then will I give the dogs my message,
and — "

"You will do what?" gasped the other.

" Give them my message, I said. Think you I came out to
hearken to a sermon ? " Sergeant Pere was now thoroughly
wide awake but somewhat testy in manner. " See," he added
cautiously, " they move away. 'Tis time they went, or doubt-
less the old one would have preached till morning, and they

I5S THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

would have had little stomach for the dose they will receive from
blackrobe."

The circle about the flames melted. Some of the older men
followed Wabacommegat to his tepee. The younger braves,
scattered in twos and threes, remained behind, sulkily mutter-
ing, as their former chief moved among them, speaking earnestly,
but with little apparent softening of the hardened men he im-
plored to reason.

McLeod took advantage to acquaint his comrade of the
words spoken. Briefly touched on the given good advice. At
the same time tried to persuade his willful companion to re-
turn to the Fort. Then return with some show of force, and
summon Wabacommegat to the Abbe. But Sergeant Pere im-
patiently shook off a detaining hand. Stood stiffly upright.
Stepped boldly, with stern face and slow footsteps, out to the
glare of the red embers.

Immediately he was surrounded by a number of young men,
who without a word seized his unresisting form, hurrying him
to the tepee of their Chief. But if his muscular arms were idle,
his scathing tongue was immediately put to use.

c 'Twill be well for you that you hide from my sight when
next you visit Fort Toronto," he said fiercely. " For every
hand that soils my clothing, I will inflict ten good blows with
my boots on the first coming within reach. I warn you."

" Silence, brother," a voice whispered in his ear, and he
turned to observe the old Indian following close.

" Ho! 'Tis you, ancient one," he said calmly; " I pray you
call off these dogs. I am unused to such handling, and the
touch of these women fighters annoys me."

" Peace, my brother," whispered the other, then commenced
to cough with such violence, that even hard-hearted Sergeant
Pere was sorry for his trouble.

" Peace! " he muttered. " Peace, 'tis a scarce article in this
region. And yet I think you far gone along the road to a land,
where if the priests tell truth, there may be some to spare."
At this moment Wabacommegat came out from his tepee. Mc-
Leod, who was unmolested, came forward, and the mob of
Indians gathered close in a circle. " Their bellies teach them
caution," the old soldier whispered with a grin. " They have
sense enough not to touch the man who provides good strong-

HOW ONE SOLDIER RECOVERED SEVEN 159

Wabacommegat moved to the glare of the fire that lighted
up savage features he endeavored to soften to a meek humility.
With one hand he waved away the clutching fingers of his
young men. Stood staring, silent, ere he spoke or moved a
muscle.

"What does my white brother do at my council? " he said
harshly.

" What do you do, who dare lay hands on the sacred person
of an officer of His Most Gracious Majesty, the King of
France ? " Sergeant Pere burst out angrily, subsiding at the
earnest touch of McLeod's fingers.

" The young men who so dared shall be cast from the lodges
of my tribe," was the quick reply, and the young braves shrank
back out of sight.

Sergeant Pere pursed his lips in a silent whistle, but not a
sound issued from them. Helplessly he looked at McLeod, who
with a shrug, waited for Wabacommegat to continue.

"What do my brothers do at this hour?" he said at last.
" What have they to say that may not wait, until the sun shall
light their footsteps through the forest ? "

Suddenly the storekeeper stepped boldly forward. " Waba-
commegat," he said in a loud voice that all could hear, " we
bear a message from the great father, who comes to visit you.
To-morrow he commands you and your young men to Fort
Toronto. See that you fail not to appear. Such is his urgent
command." He waited to observe the effect of his imperative
speech. To his great surprise the Chief appeared to smile.
Then he came close to both his former antagonists. Laid a
grimy hand on either of their shoulders.

" Why does my brother speak in such harsh manner to his
allies?" he asked slowly. "What has the Chief of the Mis-
sassagas done that angry words fall from the lips of his friends ?
What reason is there for this wild talk?" Sergeant Pere
thrust off the clutching fingers. McLeod, more diplomatic,
more versed in the duplicity of the red men, shook his head to
remain silent. "Are my brothers dumb? " he sneered, and the
old soldier unable to longer restrain an aching tongue, gave
free vent to his feelings.

"Why do we come?" he almost shouted. "Why, but to
demand an account of the assault on Fort Toronto, and the
massacre of many of its garrison? Why, but to demand from

160 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

you — you and your mob of murderers, — the penalty for dar-
ing to lay hands on the least of my soldiers ? Why — name of
a fish, but the catalogue is too long. Come to-morrow and an-
swer to your father in person, for the crimes enacted against the
King of all New France."

" My brother has the sting of the moccasin in his tongue,"
Wabacommegat replied softly. " He is mistaken. I, and my
young men, have taken their lives in their hands venturing
against the Iroquois, to preserve the soldiers of the Great King
over the bitter waters."

Sergeant Pere gasped. The audacity of the man was be-
yond belief. Who would have dreamed of such colossal lie to
escape punishment? And he stared with dropped jaw and
vacant eyes at the wily son of the forest, who had just framed
the most stupendous lie to which a hearing had been given.

" Does my brother doubt the word of a chief? " Wabacom-
megat asked haughtily. " Does he not know, that even now
the young men of the Missassagas have returned with the sol-
diers who were captured by the Iroquois?" Again the old
soldier shook his head. Bewildered, he passed a hand over his
forehead as if doubting he heard aright. He glanced at Mc-
Leod, who made no sign as he leaned motionless against a tree-
trunk. " If my brothers doubt," the Chief continued with a
sneer, " they have but to wait, and the soldiers will appear."
And Sergeant Pere quickly recovered his wits. As yet he could
not understand, his one thought to return to the Fort, to talk
over the matter with McLeod.

" My brother fears to wait?" Wabacommegat said, and the
venom in his voice stung the other to speech.

" Fear! Who shall I fear among your pig-dog murderers? "
he raged. " I fear no savage no matter how great a liar he
may be. You and I, Chief of the Missassagas, will wait to
settle an old account — one that grows in the waiting. When
we are through, I think — nay I am sure — the balance will
be in my favor. We — Name of a fish, we will leave talk
till later. I—"

McLeod came close, whispering. " Come, come," he mut-
tered sharply, "why waste words with this man? He may
command a hundred witnesses to the truth of his story."
Then with a contemptuous laugh, — " Gather together the
men he says he rescued from the Iroquois. Let us return.

HOW ONE SOLDIER RECOVERED SEVEN 161

We cannot well be worse off, whatever happen."

" True — true. Why do I, an officer of foot, bandy words
with a dissolute dog whose mother was a she-wolf, and her
stinking breath as poisonous as the lies her son has ready to
his mouth. Command these men to appear, McLeod. I may
not speak without burning my tongue in a hot mess my lips
have neither time nor patience to cool."

He savagely turned away to the red embers. In a few mo-
ments seven soldiers appeared, accompanied by Wabacommegat
and the storekeeper. He glared, as he saw that though several
of the men appeared to have been roughly handled, all were
able to walk: not one was seriously injured.

"Will my brother now believe his ally?" Wabacommegat
asked. " Dare he doubt the Iroquois attacked the home of
the white men? That the Chief of the Missassagas was able
to do what his white brothers feared ? "

" Fall in ! " Sergeant Pere shouted, maddened beyond all
bearing at the comment on his bravery. " Fall in ! " he re-
peated, and as the limping soldiers slowly obeyed, he said bit-
terly, " Chief, you have had your turn. Mine is yet to come.
My time may never come, but — we will see who lies best at
last. Now, fail not to appear before your Father. He —
not I — commands attendance."

Without another word he marched off his men, supremely in-
different to the fierce scowls and savage glances from the
younger braves. His little company, weary, tired beyond ex-
pression, entered the dappled shadows of the vast forest, whose
wooded aisles were lighting with shades of pearl-gray tints
coming from a rising September sun. And as they disappeared,
the ancient Chief of the Missassagas came gently to the side
of his long dead sister's son.

" Wabacommegat," he said slowly, impressively, " I have
saved the children of the Tribe of the Crane from punishment,
you — from death. Are you grown already to a second child-
hood, that you seek to oppose white men? You, in these silent
solitudes, think to be brave — I know 'tis folly. You have
hearkened to my counsel this night — have done as I bade you.
See that you be as obedient on the morrow. Remember, I am
silent — shall be as one dumb, whatever excuse you may offer
to our Great Father, when he demands explanation of why
your young men attacked the Fort. The Iroquois may be the

162

THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

offenders — the Missassagas have overcome them by a bravery
they did not possess when I knew their tepees. One thing is
sure — be certain of your tale. Have proof ! Should the
truth come to the ear of our White Father — you will die."
Wabacommegat shivered at the words. Manitou was
against his doings. His only son, Senascot, foremost in the
assault, had disappeared, leaving the father to face the conse-
quences of his folly!

CHAPTER XVII

SERGEANT PERE TELLS SECRETS

THE curtains of night rolled from the earth; the sun
mounted his fire chariot, whose diamond wheels of flame
should pour upon the world men, the flood light of their flash-
ing. The morning gun thundered a salute to the golden orb in
the blue ether, as he dawned on those he had warmed and
comforted, since when, no mortal ever had wisdom to discover.

Sergeant Pere and the storekeeper, leading the rescued seven,
limped into the stockade, all yawning, each tired and dismally
weary. " Name of a fish," the old one said, " the sunrise so
soon. We are early abroad to greet him." Then to the sol-
diers, as they halted before his quarters, " One of you attend
me. You," pointing to the man who had suffered under Cap-
tain de Celeron, for permitting an unknown to approach,
" You, scarecrow. The others dismiss. See you lose little
time in seeking rest. The most reverend his lord the Abbe
will have need of every one of you when his children visit him
later this day." And the tired, dilapidated company instantly
melted into their quarters. " I am pleased we receive no wel-
come," he added sourly to McLeod. " If our friend knew of
this he might prove a second Dieskau." And his companion
nodded assent.

" Have you such a thing as a drink ? " he said. " My throat
is sore."

" Mine, as dry as that old one's cackle," came the reply.
" Come in, my friend. 'Twere a poor sergeant's room that
could not find a wet welcome."

Into his lodging he moved quickly, in search of the needed
refreshment. The youthful soldier awaited them, seated on the
floor ; his eyes a volume of appeal as he watched the two drink.

Sergeant Pere eyed him sternly. In all his hasty life of bat-
tle and sudden death he never had beheld so dirty a mortal.
The man's uniform — or rather, what remained of it — be-
daubed with sticky brown clay, ornamented with long pieces

163

1 64 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

of grass, caused a frown to gather on his features.

" Name of a fish," he said, " but what prison are you from?
Here, drink this." And he handed over a brimming draft that
speedily disappeared. ' 'Twill wash the dust from your mouth.
'Twould take a gallon to wash the filth from your body. Now,
let us have the tale, and see there be no imaginary additions to
its horrors." Filling his pipe he threw himself on the bed,
where McLeod had already taken refuge, to listen attentively but
with openly expressed contempt of the man he called on.

He, from force of habit, raised his hand to the salute. In
a mumbling manner commenced. " My Sergeant," he said,
" that night when the savages stormed the Fort, I was sur-
prised—"

" So were we all. I have exceeding good cause to know it.
Pass that. What I desire from you, is to know your hiding
place ? Where did they put seven brave men ? "

" In the ' pit,' my Sergeant," came the startling answer, and
the old man leaped bodily from the bed.

" In the ' pit ' ? " he repeated vacantly, to McLeod who
shook his head. " In the ' pit ' ? What in the name of ten
thousand fishes were you doing in such place and we not know
of it ? Were all of you there ? " he asked suspiciously, and the
man nodded.

" Yes, m'sieu, and a weary time we had of it. One night
we were ordered out — I know not what night, I lost count
in the darkness — blindfolded, and marched away. Where,
I do not know, save that we seemed to travel a hundred miles
or more. At last we came out by the lake. We heard the
water and plunged in being near dead of thirst."

" And you do not know who 'twas captured you ? " McLeod
asked quickly.

" We were blindfolded with stinking cloths, m'sieu store-
keeper."

Sergeant Pere interrupted hastily. " But surely, you made
some effort to discover who held you? Of a certainty you
made some effort? " he added with a scowl, and the man shook
his head.

" We had but one idea," he replied shamefacedly, " that, to
save our lives. No resistance could we make. They were
there in thousands."

" According to the roster there are but one hundred and

SERGEANT PERE TELLS SECRETS 165

three Missassagas, I believe, McLeod ? " Sergeant Pere inter-
jected with a sour smile, and the other nodded assent.

" 'Twas the Iroquois," the soldier said quickly. " The
Iroquois who captured us. I know something of their lan-
guage. They spoke freely of the end in store for us, did we not
remain quiet."

Sergeant Pere came near. " Iroquois, imbecile? " he snarled.
" You dreamed. If that brand of devil had snared your filthy
carcass, your soul would long ere this have answered for its
grime to an angry Creator. Begone ! " he shouted angrily.
"If that is all you may tell us, begone! Retire, I say, and
fail not to be better prepared for inspection when parade is
sounded." And as the man shambled off, he turned, staring at
McLeod, who stared back his wonderment at such a startling
story.

"Did you ever hear the like, Sergeant?" the storekeeper
gasped.

" Never, never. Now what are we to do ? " As the other
remained silent, " Say something. Do something, anything but
look at me as though I were a second Abbe."

" You do fear this man then," McLeod said slowly. " You
do fear him."

" Name of a fish, I fear his power, if that is what you mean.
I fear my retirement to Niagara in irons, and the jeers of
men I commanded. He may do that for me, an he hear how
I cared for the safety of the soldiers of New France — may
even do more, if I take not precious good care that these seven
be kept out of his way."

"Why?" exclaimed the other quickly. "Why has he
aught against you?" And the Sergeant smiled grimly.

" I have enemies," he said shortly. " Enemies, who know
my history. They may whisper to him that I am of Parisian
extraction, though you may not guess that much from my
manner."

McLeod started nervously at the words. Whispered anx-
iously, " For the love of God, Sergeant, do not mention that
place in his hearing." And he stared over his shoulder in a
panic. But his companion only smiled, patting his arm affec-
tionately.

" I am safe with you," he said. " I know your secret, and
you know mine. I cannot read, 'tis true, but I spell print well

166 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

enough to make out its meaning, that is, when time is given
me."

McLeod, his face the color of the dead, stood still. For a
moment his lips refused speech; his hands trembled as though
afflicted with sudden palsy. "What — what do you mean?"
he stammered at last. "What do you mean?"

" I mean, Rene de Laudonniere, my secret, if it be a secret —
is safe with you. That precious family history you read —
when none are about — in it I spelled your name. Saw your
handwriting, entering the birth of your daughter some nine-
teen years passed by. As I told you, I am of Parisian extrac-
tion, and remember — you!" The other staggered back to
the wall, his agitation so great the perspiration trickled down
both cheeks.

" You will not inform the Abbe ? " he whispered with dry
mouth.

"And leave my little maid without a parent? An orphan?
What manner of man think you I am? At least, allow me
some sense of honor, officer of New France, though I be."

" You lived in Paris, Sergeant ? " McLeod began anxiously.

" Aye, and saw you splurging it with the best, while I strug-
gled among the worst."

" How came you to know — of my birth — and when ? "

" The descendant of Rene de Laudonniere is like his ancestor
as two peas in a pod. One of yours, I notice, is painted in
that book you carry — the one who ventured south with
Ribault. Oh, none can hear," as his companion glanced ap-
prehensively around. " I am not speaking over-loud. You
see I can read print, though I may not trace out mud letters,
as the stranger would have me do."

" But how long have you known ? " insisted McLeod.

" Since that day in August, some two months gone, when the
Iroquois set the storehouse ablaze with a fire-arrow. Sunday
it was, you remember? You rushed out with Madeline in your
arms. I entered to put out fire, saw the book lying on the
table — open at a portrait. I looked, hid it quickly. Then
when you were in my quarters — I was on guard over the
goods, we had five men sick with a fever — I had leisure to ex-
amine more closely those pages. Saw too much for an enemy
to know, so I, being friendly toward you, kept my mouth shut,
handed you back your treasure wrapped in a bundle of skins —

SERGEANT PERE TELLS SECRETS 167

I saw you jump when I did so, but made no remark — and
there you are. Would you have me do aught else? Inform
De Celeron, for instance ?"

" No. No, old friend. That were indeed to place me in
his power."

" Then forget I know of the matter ; forget I alone know you
to be Count — "

" Hush ! Hush, for the love of Madeline," the storekeeper
stammered and Sergeant Pere smiled whimsically.

" She would keep my mouth shut. Count's daughters do
not play with ancient sergeants of foot," he said. " Have no
fear of me. I will not risk the loss of her company, I assure
you."

"You do not wonder at my fear of — " Here the store-
keeper pointed nervously across the stockade, and his companion
nodded.

" No," he said shortly, " I do not ; and I would advise you
to hide that printed history of yours."

"Be sure I will. He was in Paris, when — when I was
there. I have always feared his visits — always feared his
remembrance of me. That is one reason — though I tremble
often for my girl's safety in these wilds, I requested charge of
this outpost. 'Tis off the beaten track, and few of those I once
knew like to come. I trust I do right, but — "

For many moments the two remained silent. McLeod trem-
bling, even now that he was assured of silence on the part of
his crony, whose wrinkled features showed open doubt of such
wisdom. " She is a good maid," he said. " One of the best.
Perhaps she is as well off here as in that Paris we both knew."
Then he said suddenly, as if to himself, " I would I knew the
outcome of our own business," and McLeod, mastering his fears,
spoke earnestly.

"Will De Celeron be allowed to remain here?" he said
quickly.

" If he remain dumb the Abbe will of a certainty remove
him to Niagara. Blackrobe is as fearful as ever our Captain
was of the British. If he recover — well, who can tell? "

For some minutes McLeod stared silent through the window
toward the storehouse. " Were it not for her," he said slowly,
" I would join Birnon."

" A course I would be first to advise, only 'tis a desperate

x68 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

venture at the best. Crossing the lake hazardous enough. The
Iroquois would instantly be out on us when we did come safe
across — McLeod, I say we cannot go unless our backs be
against the wall."

" Captain de Celeron may recover — "

" But if I can come at him first, supposing he does — that
is, ere our friend the Abbe sees him — then I may give my
young cockerel many reasons that if he crow too loud, his comb
may be cropped. He was to blame. He alone for the whole
trouble. He, as well as us two, has something to keep secret."

" In any case I must be removed," McLeod muttered ir-
relevantly. " I will implore the Intendant for a change of
duty. I have served many long years here, and need change.
I must be removed," he repeated loudly, and Sergeant Pere
frowned.

" That were a good thought," he said sadly. " But, 'twill
be lonely without a saucy tongue to fool an old man into be-
lief that he is young again. Of course she knows naught?"
he added.

" No. Not one word. Does not even suspect me other
than a plain storekeeper."

" She is best so. Country air is sweeter than city. There
is a taint in the latter makes women mad."

"You are bitter against the sex, Sergeant?"

" Since my wife listened to the devil, I have never spoken
civil word to any save your daughter, McLeod." And the
other shrugged. His forehead clouding with regret.

' 'Twas a woman drove me hither," he muttered, almost
savagely. Then added very gently, " Though had I not come,
Madeline had not been here to cheer my misery."

' 'Tis near time we cheered our inner man," Sergeant Pere
said to change the subject that had taken a personal turn, and
he was one to avoid exchange of confidences lightly. In all his
hours of leisure at Fort Toronto, he had never said one word
of who he was or who his forbears, save long-winded accounts
of a sojourn at Brest, under his hero Dieskau. Not even to
the storekeeper had he said a word until this fateful moment.
Would not have done so even then, only necessity required
some explanation. ' 'Tis time we hurried cookie," he said
after some thought, and a glance at the worn features of his
companion. " The fat one will be abroad seeking to fill his

SERGEANT PERE TELLS SECRETS 169

maw. I, myself, could do justice to a round of corn bread and
a slice of venison. What say you ? "

" We must prepare of course, but what there will be save
dried deer's flesh and white bread, is not much."

" Come on then. 'Tis a fine morning. Let us lock the
vault of our troubles and forget them. We are yet alive — oh,
well, what more can we expect ? "

" Forget ! " muttered McLeod with a deep sigh. " I have
sought forgetfulness these many years, but always discovered
remembrance lurking round the corner of to-morrow."

" Two old ones will soon have forgetfulness forced on them,
my friend. We grow old. Let us try to forget in assisting
youth. The boy and girl be of one mind ? Yes, of a certainty
they are." And the old soldier loudly chuckled as he stepped
forth from his quarters. " Come on, storekeeper ; we have
them to keep us cheerful."

McLeod followed slowly. He was of more serious disposi-
tion than his friend. Could not so easily shake off depression.
The thought of his daughter, her loneliness should he be forced
to take refuge in the extreme wilds to escape the Abbe, the
danger and peril arising from such journey, filled his mind
with apprehension. Came to cheer his gloom thought of that
ark down the lake, and like another Noah he strove to stifle
doubt in the hope of setting a free sail.

Sergeant Pere stood on the stoop as he entered the storehouse.
" Name of a fish," he said, pointing to a trestled board spread
at the entry, " see what the maid hath done. Here have we
two old graybeards gossiped hours away and she has taught us
a lesson in industry."

His eyes rested on a table covered with fine linen. In the
center, dew yet sparkling on their petals, a glorious bunch of
wood flowers perfumed the room. Wild berries piled on a
wooden tray; the halves of a melon, with a mound of maple
sugar glistening in the sunshine that sought to melt its sweet-
ness, added a coloring to the spotless napery, neatly set with
two silver mugs, and knives and forks of a more common metal.
And the storekeeper, though accustomed to the habits of a most
diligent daughter, smiled his pleasure at the sight.

" She is a dear maid," he said. " She must have been on
foot half the night."

" Half of it ? The whole of it you mean — and see what

170 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

the cunning one has placed for his reverence. Ah, I would I
were of the Church."

' 'Twill be lost on him," McLeod said with a frown, as
he caught sight of a cut glass, the only one in Fort Toronto,
set out to honor a man of renown. Feminine lips had touched
that delicately carved surface. A sigh rose to his lips. A wife
long dead was owner. " 'Tis best so," he muttered, thinking
of her alone under the sod, in the care of the kindly Sulpicians
at Mount Royal. And his companion, catching the words mis-
understood their reference.

" Best," he said quickly. " Best, why the maid could not
have done better. She has discovered a lost art. She finds the
way to a man's heart lies through his stomach, and few women
I have known ever knew that much."

" All women know that truth by instinct, my son. Trouble
is, few care to practice their knowledge."

The old soldier jumped at the sound near his ear. " Good
day to your excellency," he said, saluting hastily. " I trust your
lordship rested well ? " And the Abbe bowed gravely.

" Excellent well," he said. " I have not slept so soundly
since I set out from La Presentation." Then his voice sud-
denly changed from the courteous traveler to the austere digni-
tary. " I trust these attentions have not interfered with the
gathering together of my Missassagas ? "

" They have been summoned, your reverence, and will obey,"
McLeod replied slowly.

"That is well. Now if you will sound the call to break-
fast— I fear my good companion, Brother Alonzo, will have
to be personally summoned — You are prepared? Very
good. After we have done justice to this far too bounteous
repast — after, we will address the poor heathen who I fear
will be sadly disappointed."

Sergeant Pere hurriedly sought the cookhouse in search of
his little cabbage that he might assist her efforts. Within the
heated walls, flushed and rosy, she stood busily engaged in
drawing from the glowing oven rolls of fine white bread.

" Ha, little one," he said pleasantly, " 'tis well to be digni-
tary of Holy Church, when you sacrifice beauty sleep for him.
Would I were one." The last with a wide grin.

" Think you there will be sufficient ? " she asked anxiously.
" I have a turkey, Peche snared last night, and the remainder

SERGEANT PERE TELLS SECRETS 171

of a pasty."

"Enough? my chief of all the cooks in New France.
Enough ? Do you think to supply a regiment of foot ? "

" No — but, the fat gentleman possesses a goodly appetite,
and—"

" I may not help such affliction, my child," a plaintive voice
interrupted, causing a scream to escape her lips. And Am-
brose, his eyes fixed on the delicacies displayed, continued
slowly, " I have suffered severely for that trouble of mine, I
do assure you, maiden. My weight is a cruel punishment to
one of my activity."

" There is plenty here for all, good sir," Sergeant Pere
hastened to answer. " I trust you stay long to enjoy rest and
refreshment, " he added craftily, with intent to discover if the
scribe knew of his master's purpose.

" I think we remain some time," Ambrose said hastily, then
turned eagerly to Madeline. " I pray you not to send in all
that delicious bread and juicy turkey at one serving, maiden.
My master sits long at table, though he is a poor eater. I like
not my victuals cold."

" Do not be alarmed, Monsieur Secretary," she replied with
a gentle smile. " I will carve here and save for you a portion
of the breast with some hot corn bread."

"Excellent! Excellent! Elijah was not better cared for
in the wilderness," he replied piously, but was quickly taken
to task.

" I am no raven, sir, at least, I trust I am not black as such
a bird? As for a wilderness, I think Fort Toronto well pro-
vided with good company at the moment."

" I am rebuked, well rebuked," Ambrose said with a
good-natured look in his small eyes. " I should have said, a
very daughter of Solomon for wisdom of thought, and a very
Delilah for the beguiling of hungry men."

"Your second attempt is very much worse than the first,
kind sir," came the gay reply, and Sergeant Pere hugely
enjoying the tilt of words, grinned widely, though the secre-
tary stood, not knowing exactly whether he was pleased or
otherwise. " I am poor as a healthy maid may be, and I am
not a Delilah — at least I have not a Sampson to shear."

' There was a stranger," the old soldier whispered mis-
chievously, and two velvet cheeks colored rose red. " He was

i72 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

not so strong a giant, but then he surrendered even more
easily."

" Oh, Sergeant, please," Madeline exclaimed, turning to hide
her blushes. "Please — please carry these dishes to table.
Do," she pleaded, noting the desire of her slave to further
tease, and he from compassion willingly obeyed.

Ambrose stood wrapped in contemplation of the many tasty
dishes carried forth. Suddenly he aroused himself to voice an
inward desire for meat. " Ah, doubtless my master is hun-
gered," he said quickly. " I will precede you, my good sol-
dier." As he waddled slowly off, " 'Tis not seemly that a man
of learning be discovered waiting for crumbs like a second Laz-
arus at Dives' gateway."

" Name of a fish, my little one, but he is a monster," Ser-
geant Pere said with a chuckle as he disappeared. " But if
he be satisfied with your cookery, he may prove a find, eh?"
And with a smile the girl nodded, as she moved with her
ancient friend to the storehouse.

The Abbe with his medical associate was already seated at
table as they entered. The secretary was preparing to read,
but his roving eye paid more attention to the feast than to the
rounded periods of the learned writer whose wisdom his lips
should have decorously recited.

" I fear your memory is somewhat short, Ambrose," the
Doctor said at last, after a prolonged stammer of the stumbling
reader. " Haste is unnecessary where you are concerned."
Then he turned to the storekeeper seated on his left, " Bread
and water is prescribed for him," he said shortly, and Ambrose
came near groaning in abject misery.

Slowly his covetous glance returned to the pages of his
book. In a monotonous drawl he endeavored to satisfy his
dreaded master, who remarked with approbation, " That is
much the better, Ambrose. More in accordance with the
intent of the writer." Then he said suddenly and the store-
keeper jumped, " Now, Monsieur McLeod, we will attend to
your bloodthirsty Missassagas." And his thin lips curved in
the wraith of a smile as his keen eyes noted the dismay of the
man he addressed.

" As your reverence is pleased to command," he muttered,
rising to move unsteadily from the room, encountering Ser-
geant Pere in full regimentals waiting on the wide stoop.

SERGEANT PERE TELLS SECRETS 173

" He wants them," he muttered and the other grinned.-

" They are here in full force, my friend," he replied, point-
ing toward the enclosure. " See what brave show my few
make against their gaudy numbers."

With the exception of two sentries, lookouts on the wall,
every available man was at an appointed post, close to the foot
of the steps. Facing their slim array, the whole tribe of the
Crane. A silent mob of savages who had crept down upon
Fort Toronto with as little noise as makes the leaf bidding
adieu to its parent stem.

" I would we were come safely through the ordeal," Mc-
Leod said, and the other scowled.

" Now we shall hear some wild tales of wilder bravery," he
said. " Of how five men slew five hundred, bringing off alive
seven soldiers of New France."

" We may hear more of how two men sought to deceive
one."

" Then the hearing will not tire either," came the testy
reply. Savagely the old soldier turned, silently staring out
over the heads of that painted and much bedaubed crowd, all
gathered to pay homage to the representative of His Most
Gracious Majesty, The King of all New France. Wabacom-
megat, prominently forward, glanced quickly up, and his
glare of dislike made a shiver ripple up the spine of the man
who stared. " I wonder how near he can come to the truth? "
he muttered apprehensively. " From what I know of him he is
a bad marksman at that target, but he may have luck, and
then?"

Several hours passed ere the Abbe condescended to make an
appearance, giving Sergeant Pere much time for thought.
The more he thought the more worried he became. Fear for
himself he never knew — but his little cabbage, fatherless in
these wilds, caused many a curse to rise to his thin lips, and
as the sun began to wane his nerves grew irritable with waiting.

The Most Reverend the Abbe Picquet, Prefect Apostolic of
all New France, and Doctor of the Sorbonne, was possessed
of neither nerves nor irritation. His subtle knowledge of In-
dian character taught him that the native rarely appreciated
favors granted in a hurry. The longer the period of en-
forced waiting, the more likely were his suppliants for a mis-
sion to value what he thought best to grant them. Wabacom-

THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

megat, with the Tribe of the Crane, were to prove the worth
of patience well that day. Many long hours they waited.
In the cramped enclosure they saw the sun rise to his meridian ;
were there even when the god of day prepared to dismount
from his fire chariot and descend in a blaze of color to a well-
earned rest.

CHAPTER XVIII

HOW A DOCTOR DEPRIVED A MAN OF HIS SPIRITUAL COMFORTS

SERGEANT PERE turned to McLeod impatiently, with
venom in his voice. For the fiftieth time he had stolen on
tiptoe to the entrance, seeking to discover the intention of the
man he feared. Each occasion found the Abbe engaged in
dictating to his secretary; each occasion brought the old man
back to the side of his crony, muttering wrathfully of a
longed for vengeance. " Name of a fish," he growled, and
McLeod shook his head to be cautious, " had Dieskau kept the
English outside the walls of Brest so long as this blackrobe
keeps us waiting here, they had grown gray with vexation, and
died of old age."

" We may do little to hurry his reverence. 'Tis ever his
way to make the savage wait. Once he kept a council two
months, and then having eaten all their stores they were
forced to go hunting deer ere they could hunt their enemies."

" An Peter keeps him waiting half the time he has kept us,
he will conclude a warmer spot than Heaven is to be his future
home."

" Hush ! Hush ! Man alive, do you want him to hasten
your last journey? He would without a thought, did he hear
such gibing." Suddenly the door was thrown wide behind
them, and the man they spoke of, preceded by Brother Alonzo
and Ambrose, came forth. The two humbly made way for
the three to pass. As they moved to the front of the stoop,
McLeod muttered, " Now. Now we shall soon know all."

The Abbe stood silent, his glance of steel softened to one
of milder temper as he thought of the disappointment he was
about to inflict on the wretched remnant of a once powerful
nation, cowering beneath his steady eyes. As he stood with
pitying mind, Wabacommegat with his people crowded close
to the wooden stoop, where waited the visible emblem of a
Holy Church invisible, whose teachings they had all heard but
failed to interpret aright.

With a wave of the hand to command silence that was his

176 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

long ere he commenced to speak, the Apostle of the Iroquois
with bowed head invoked a blessing from the Divine Authority
he truly believed he represented on earth. Then, suddenly,
he commenced his speech. Spoke, in powerful voice, severe in
tone, but softened by a sympathy he named as weakness, that
reached the ears of the last man crowding to the outskirts of
the painted mob.

" Children of New France," he said slowly, " sons and
daughters of a Blessed Church triumphant on earth, I, your
loving father, bear a message. The words of a greater than
I — the will of the Great King who dwells over the bitter
waters. His Majesty, the King of France, bids me bear news
to you. Your Chief, Wabacommegat, requested a mission for
you, his people, at this place. I am here. Await his reasons."
Then he calmly seated himself in a chair, dutifully placed by
Ambrose, while Brother Alonzo smiled benignantly down upon
the silent throng.

Wabacommegat rose hurriedly. In a rough and rude man-
ner, speaking the gutturals of his own harsh language, that he
knew from past experience his absolute master well under-
stood, he answered.

" Our Great Father is welcome to this land," he said.
"We — I for my people do require a mission. The reason?
Our father knows. The Iroquois, his enemies, have many
such. We, his friends, have none. We have given our lands
freely. They have sought by war to retain their own. The
Great Spirit gave equally to both Nations. We are content
with the friendship of the white man in exchange for our hunt-
ing grounds. Are the Iroquois? No! Yet they have many
missions; we — not one. They receive warmth and comfort;
we but cold and hunger. They have sweet waters to drink;
we, thirst. Yet — again I say are we friends of the white
men who take from us our lands. Our foes, the Iroquois, de-
fend themselves with fire and slaughter, receiving good gifts for
blows, many missions for slaughter, and we — the children of
our Father — have naught.

" What good wishes have we not sent to the Great King
over the bitter waters? What desire for instruction that the
sons and daughters of the Tribe of the Crane may benefit?
You, our Father, know of these things. Know also that a
mission we must have, if he would have my people know and

DEPRIVED OF SPIRITUAL COMFORTS 177

do great things. I have spoken. May my words enter the
heart of my Father whose servant I have always been."

Here the Chief sank to the ground, covering his face with a
corner of tattered blanket, to wait impatiently for an answer.
His parched throat craved strongwater. Though he had
gained some liquor at the hands of a soldier in the early morn-
ing, paid for by a beaver skin, ruthlessly taken from a patient
woman, his appetite was well nigh uncontrollable. At the
moment his mind was filled with a vision. Unlimited liquor
procured from a mission, intended to instill reform, but which
he demanded should distill potions for his private use.

The Abbe sat frowning. He saw but loss to his beloved
New France by the establishment of such a school in so ill
defended a spot. His dream of a grand New France, but the
longer delayed by indulgence to the native. In his heart he
had often pondered the question of slave labor to till the ready
ground. But he abhorred the bare idea of the Missassagas
becoming slaves to drink, thus becoming useless instruments
for the purpose he had in mind. He did not see eye to eye
with the Chief of the Missassagas, that increased population
would ensure a freer flow of strongwater. He was totally
opposed to the liquor traffic. Had spoken most energetically
at Quebec — boldly even, before the Intendant, against the
daily distribution of brandy Wabacommegat was early on hand
each and every morning to receive.

And the great man, noting the sottishness of the speaker,
his unsteady hand and trembling limbs, determined to refuse
his request, until McLeod should speak differently of him;
give him better character. He searched his brain to discover
reasonable excuse. Suddenly a picture came to memory. A
scene enacted in the stockade when a last visit had been made.

" Wabacommegat," he said, " since when has this great zeal
for teachers touched your heart? Do you suppose a mission
a canteen? Since when have you displayed deep interest in
my words, that a mission should be granted? You have been
treated as you wished. You asked and received — a canteen
— a daily supply of liquor. The curse of fools since the days
of Noah is yours. Unlike the Iroquois, you speak of,- you
have never sought Holy Church. Do you forget that when
last I came here to visit you were drunk? So drunken, my
words fell on deaf ears. That day your tongue was dumb.

178 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

Could not state clearly the desires of your bestial appetite.
These matters I have long pondered in my heart. You show
little desire to reform. And hear my words, I have said to
the Great King over the bitter waters that your request is
unreasonable — that to my mind the Missassagas are not yet
ready for the establishment of the mission you request. I
have spoken. If my answer be harsh and little to your liking
the rod is of your own shaping with which punishment reaches
your people."

At the conclusion of the words Wabacommegat leaped to
his feet, his eyes red with lust of slaughter ; his soul on fire with
disappointment. With a bound he sprang toward the speaker,
but a lean hand closed on his shoulder. He hesitated, staring
into a pair of steady eyes that suddenly tamed his instant de-
sire for revenge.

"Why hurry, Indian?" Sergeant Pere said with a broad
grin. " Why hurry ? Think you his reverence has a store
of strongwater up his sleeve that you rush to him in so hasty
a manner?" And the Chief paused in his vain attempt.

" Soldier some day dance. Pine fires hot," he stuttered
wrathfully. Then he jerked his arm free and would have
instantly departed.

" Some further speech I would have with you, Wabacom-
megat," the Abbe said in a loud voice. " I would have your
account of those who burned the precious property of my mas-
ter, the King of France."

Sergeant Pere discovered a cold spear of ice laying close to
his spine, that paralyzed movement. " Name of a fish," he
muttered, " now is the fat to boil over and burn one or two
I know of."

Wabacommegat halted. With a scowl he came close to the
foot of the wide steps. Stared steadily up to the grave face
observing with keen eyes his every movement. " My Father
is wise," he said sneeringly, " but his ear has lost the ring of
truth. Does he lay the blame for such happening on the
heads of my young men? Who has said this evil thing of
them ? " he demanded harshly, as the Abbe frowned.

" The storekeeper, and yonder man, the Sergeant of this
garrison."

" Both are liars, my Father. Both," came the vindictive
snarl. " Both men lie," he repeated. Sergeant Pere was un-

DEPRIVED OF SPIRITUAL COMFORTS 179

able to follow the harsh gutturals, but McLeod understood
well enough, and his face flushed red.

" Does the Chief of the Missassagas say I, his brother, lies ? "
he asked, but the Indian disdained reply, contenting himself
with an angry glare directed toward the old soldier, while
the Abbe stood listening eagerly, determined to come to the
solution of the mystery.

" Speak, Chief of the Missassagas. I, your Father, demand
it," he said.

" Wabacommegat spoke to these men," he answered harshly.
" Said they were mistaken. Told them the Iroquois, their
enemies, attacked this place from which they were driven away
by the bravery of my people."

The Abbe smiled. He knew the courage possessed by the
Tribe of the Crane. Sergeant Pere, gathering a word here
and there, was content to let matters stand, but McLeod,
thoroughly understanding, trembled in his moccasins. He
feared the asking of too many explanations, and shivered as
the reverend man began to further question the Chief.

" The Missassagas were not to blame then ? " he said gently.
" I could not think them guilty ; that they would dare offend
the Great King who daily provides food." He motioned to
the storekeeper. " How came you to say so? " he demanded
sternly, for he sympathized with the evident disappointment
visible on the features of their Chief; thought he had been
punished quite enough by the refusal of a mission without hav-
ing a heavy fine laid on the shoulders of his people as payment
for damage done. " How dared you and this soldier lie to
me?" he repeated, and McLeod hastened to reply.

" Reverend sir," he said slowly, " if we lied — which I much
doubt — 'twas unintentional. We had the best of reasons to
suspect his tribe guilty."

" But you admit you recognized none of them."

" A girl of his people came to us — "

" Where is she ? Bid her hither at once. I will question
her."

" She disappeared — I was not with her at her going."

" Disappeared ? Why and what for ? For what reason
should she belie her people? Be conveniently out of reach
when I demand her appearance?"

Sergeant Pere saluted. " She went to Niagara, reverence,"

180 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

he said stoutly, " for assistance." And the Abbe sat down
amazed.

Wabacommegat, with gloomy countenance, stood near, a
smoldering hatred gleaming in his eyes. A girl was missing
from his tepees, and one man — Senascot, his only son. The
former he cared nothing for, but that the bravest of all his
young men, the most clever and cunning of them all, should
disappear, just when the Fort with its booty of strongwater
was near within grasp, was something he could not fathom.
What an opportunity had been lost! Now, a mission had
been denied. Under his breath he savagely cursed the first-
born of his loins, whose treachery had robbed appetite of satis-
faction.

" Chief of the Tribe of the Crane, these men say one of
your women came to warn them of your purpose. Is this
thing true ? " With all the stolidity of nature to assist con-
trol of his muscles, the old man started as the calm voice of
the Abbe fell on his ears. " A girl gave warning! " he thought.
Rapidly crossed his mind of the white man in his tepee, of
Rose of the Hills, the blow felling her body to the earth. She
had done this thing for revenge. Revenge for a hasty stroke
had robbed him of pleasure. How he would beat her did she
dare return. " I await your answer, Chief. These men say
a woman of your people gave warning of an evil design upon
this place." Again the Abbe spoke sternly, and the Chief,
with features rigid as the wooden post against which he leaned
to steady himself, replied between clenched teeth.

" Does my Father believe women find seats at my council ? "
he said haughtily. " Does he think Wabacommegat would
permit a woman to know his doings? My Father cannot be-
lieve these men. Not one of my people dare so much." And
the Abbe, knowing the secrecy of the native, was more than
half persuaded McLeod and the soldier were both mistaken.

"Where is this girl?" he asked, turning suddenly on the
two, who slowly shook their heads. " You do not know ?
Then were you not mistaken? You do not recognize any here
concerned in the assault ? Was not this girl — a dream, imag-
ination ? " He sneered and Sergeant Pere frowned. " You
hesitate ? You are not sure ? "

McLeod, more than willing to put an end to a questioning
that at any moment might bring his undoing, hastened to reply:

DEPRIVED OF SPIRITUAL COMFORTS 181

" We may have been in error, your reverence. The night was
dark as a wolf's throat — we captured none of the besiegers
— they may have been Iroquois as this man says."

"Ah!" remarked the Abbe, "you are long in confessing
error, McLeod. Now hark you, I have something to say.
For having aspersed my Missassagas without sufficient proof,
I lay this charge on your shoulders. You shall pay to this
good friend of ours the value of ten beaver skins." As Waba-
commegat gave a start of pleasure, he added quickly, " In
trade goods only, not in strongwater." And the wily son of
the forest scowled. As for the storekeeper, his inward dismay
at such a heavy demand may be conjectured, not written. Ser-
geant Pere flushed red, but he remained silent; determined
part of his scanty pay should go to making up the price of a
most one-sided peace.

" You think me harsh? " the Abbe said slowly, for he knew
his man. Knew the fine would be forthcoming from McLeod,
for he was honest as the day. In all his travels up and down
the length of New France he had never discovered such an
upright storekeeper as this bearded man, buried deep in the
wilds. And he hesitated to inflict such a punishment. * 'Tis
necessary," he said quickly. " Very necessary this Chief be
appeased. He has a sore disappointment from which to re-
cover, and his young men are perilous near your home."

" Indeed, we found out that truth," muttered McLeod.

' 'Twas the Iroquois, stubborn one," exclaimed the Abbe.
' 'Twas those fiends. They are ever ready to slaughter at the
instigation of the English. Now, having said my say, I will
retire. Farewell, Wabecommegat. Your Great Fath'er may
change his mind — that is, if you change your ways."

" Leave well enough alone," Sergeant Pere exclaimed, as
his crony was about to remonstrate. " He has gone," as the
Abbe disappeared, " let him go. How explain Birnon? "

Madeline overhearing, trembled with alarm.

" Where is he?" she whispered.

" Gone fishing, my dear," the old man chuckled. " He went
hurriedly," he added, noting her alarm.

" He never so much as said good-by to me," she pouted.

"How could he? His mouth will not obey his heart,"
Sergeant Pere grinned as he spoke. " I doubt me he has even
spoken your name. Never in your hearing, that is." And

182 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

she fled to escape his banter, assumed to cheer her for the loss
of a lover. Then he turned to McLeod, a vindictive look in
his eyes. " You will pay that drunken dog for his care of us
the past six days, McLeod? Not in trade, surely. Blows
would be better. Name of a fish, when I think of him, I
swear to myself."

" I must. An I do not pay to the uttermost, the Abbe will
hear of it."

" I would have fought the matter to a finish but for our
stranger and the maid. He is a man after my own heart,
though what he does in this uncivilized spot passes my poor
wit." Then with a curt word he dismissed the soldiers, and
turned to follow into the storehouse, prevented by Ambrose
in the doorway.

" The most reverend, my master, desires to be alone for a
brief space," he mumbled dolorously, for a hunger tore at his
cavernous depths, biting deep into his fat internals.

"Is our officer with him?" McLeod asked quickly.

" No. He is with Brother Alonzo, our doctor, a skilled
man of medicine. The poor patient may recover. His at-
tendant is wise beyond belief. I heard of his curing a brother
by removal of his scalp."

" Name of a fish, but is he Christian ? " Sergeant Pere
blurted rudely. " There be plenty of savages too ready to
such work in this land, but I have yet to hear of a white man
doing so much. By the name of ten million fishes I believe
him too kindly a soul for such brute work."

" Swear not at all, my good soldier," snapped the fat one.
" An the Abbe hear you, suffering may come to your body."
Then he reentered the storehouse, and the other forebore to
retort. He remembered the look on a man's face at breakfast,
and smiled sourly, thinking there were others paying the pen-
alty of saying too much.

He turned to his quarters while McLeod climbed the plat-
form to stare out over the smiling lake. Just why he did so
he could not have explained. Then his mind wandered to
Wabacommegat, and he turned to the interior of the stockade
seeking the Chief among the Missassagas crowding the dusty
space. "He must have gone," he said. "I wonder where?
He and I will have more talk ere that beaver price reach his
greedy paw."

OSS

DEPRIVED OF SPIRITUAL COMFORTS 183

Again he turned toward the lake, whose smooth surface
glittered steel-like under the rays of the setting sun. Far
down the father of all waters moved two tiny specks. What
they were, plain to his accustomed eyes. What they con-
tained, invisible, but affording much food for thought and
more cause for anxiety. The specks were canoes! In one
only was there sign of life, and that one towed the other.
They came slowly, exceeding slow toward the Fort, and the
man staring anxiously trembled at their unlocked for appear-
ance.

" They cannot reach shore till darkness fall," he muttered.
"What further mischief is coming to us now?" Then he
started, for a gentle hand was laid on his shoulder and he
faced his daughter.

"Is that the canoe of Francis?" she asked with a smile.
But her father suddenly pulled down the fingers she pointed.

" I fear so," he whispered. " Come." They paced the
long platform until they reached the huge posts of the gate-
way. " Careful, Madeline. Francis nears a prison with
every sweep of his paddle." And the girl started back with
horror in her eyes.

" Why ? " she gasped. " Why ? "

" He has not one scrap of writing to prove who he is," came
the gloomy response. " Senascot captured him, swore he was
a spy. Wabacommegat detests him — why, I am unable to
fathom. Should he appear here — now — the Chief may de-
mand his person of the Abbe, and he to soothe the anger of a
disappointed man at the loss of his mission would doubtless
grant him vengeance."

The girl covered her face with two shaking hands. For
the moment she appeared about to faint. Suddenly, mastering
the feminine weakness, she muttered, " How may we prevent
his landing? How save his life? He must be warned, for
he is mine and I will save him if 'tis possible to a woman."

The storekeeper came as near the land of jealousy as he ever
did in the course of a long life. Anger rose hot in his heart
against this youngster stealing that which he had spent many
a year in rearing. Then his love for the girl, who seemed to
a parent too ready to desert the parent nest, strangled resent-
ment, and with a deep sigh he placed an arm over her shoul-
ders.

1 84 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

" I do not know for sure 'tis he," he said softly and very
gently. " If 'tis, he cannot reach shore till after dark. Come!
Let us to Sergeant Pere. He will do something. I am not
the thinker I once was."

They descended from the high boards. Moved slowly to
the quarters of the soldiers, talking together as though naught
out of the ordinary affected their lives. As they neared the
cookhouse, she said with a smile, " I must to the cook and give
him assistance." She spoke loud for several stood near, but as
her father turned to go she found time to whisper, " As you
love me, find a way to save him."

McLeod moved on to his crony, sauntering slowly as with
the effort to kill time. Once safe within the quarters of Ser-
geant Pere he hurried to his side, grasping him with no gentle
hand.

" What canoe did Birnon take ? " he asked, and the other
jumped to his feet, laughing.

" The one with the carved head-board," he answered. " Do
you think I would give him aught but the best? Why?" he
asked, losing his grin, and McLeod fell to mumbling inco-
herent phrases, until he lost patience and shook him roughly
by the arm.

" Wake up, idiot," he said harshly. " Why in the name of
a thousand devil fishes do you come here scaring the breath
from my carcass?"

" Because the young man nears the Fort, with another canoe
in tow of his own." And at the answer Sergeant Pere stag-
gered back to the wall, as though smitten with a sledge ham-
mer in the grasp of sinewy hands.

" Good Saints defend us," he muttered. " He — to come
now, when all was going smooth."

" What shall we do ? " McLeod questioned feebly.

" Do ? Naught, save wait, and see what God sends us. I
trust it be not a rope, that is all. We must wait, and that is
hard to do when every sense of safety shouts danger. I pray
that scalping brother has bad luck." Then he donned his uni-
form coat, thrown on one side for relief from its heat. Stood,
ready to go, but the storekeeper sat white and still, the hands
covering his features shaking as though afflicted with palsy.
"Come," the old soldier said at last. "Let us to the store-
house, and see how the maid fares. 'Twill go hard with her

DEPRIVED OF SPIRITUAL COMFORTS 1%$

I

if harm happen him."

Without a word the other rose, silently followed to the long
room where dainty dishes smoked fragrance on a white table.
But their sweet smelling savor produced only a sense of nau-
sea to his stomach. His brain whirled at the sight of his
daughter busily though calmly engaged in serving the meal.
How must she feel, he thought, if he, a strong man, could hardly
bear the strain of waiting ? He seated himself but not a morsel
passed his lips.

Sergeant Pere, as in duty bound, waited behind the Abbe,
his grim features a study in color. His scar a purplish tint,
that blazed against the sallow of thin cheeks. A savage gleam
in his eyes, as of a wildcat defending her young. His mind,
chaos. For the man who had saved his worthless life was
slowly approaching, unconscious of danger, drawing nearer and
nearer to disgraceful death at the end of a dangling rope, or
— what was much worse — torture at the hands of savages.
He, helpless, powerless.

CHAPTER XIX

HOW A DUMB MAN RECOVERED SPEECH

VJOTWITHSTANDING the plenitude of good things
.iN spread before him, the Abbe soon made an end of a
meagre supper. He rose, intimating to his secretary that his
services would be immediately required when his scant meal
of bread and water had been disposed of. Then he turned to
McLeod. " I desire you and the soldier here to follow me at
the earliest moment," he said briefly. " I have good news for
you. Brother Alonzo informs me your officer is like to re-
cover. I would have you both with me shortly."

" He has spoken ? " Sergeant Pere said hurriedly, and the
other stared his anger.

" My good man," he said grimly, " I am accustomed to
some measure of respect. Never have I grown accustomed to
interruption. When I wish speech of your tongue, which,
methinks, at times is overbold, then — and then only — use it
with reverence when you address me."

" Your pardon, excellency — " the old man began. But was
speedily silenced.

" Granted, for this occasion, because you are an old soldier
desirous of obtaining news of a beloved officer. That, and
that alone, excuses you. Now attend me both of you as soon
as it is possible." With a chill smile he walked toward the
inner room, and as the door closed behind his haughty figure,
Ambrose with Brother Alonzo followed, leaving three fright-
ened people alone.

" Name of a fish, McLeod, but he curdles my blood to vine-
gar," Sergeant Pere whispered. But his companion could only
nod.

Madeline came close, her face pale as death, her lips
trembling as she spoke. " I am going to warn him," she said
quietly. Then quickly disappeared, determined to do all to save
the lover she had known but such short while, yet whose safety
was worth more than great possessions.

" Strange how a woman flies to her mate," Sergeant Pere

186

HOW A DUMB MAN RECOVERED SPEECH 187

said slowly, and McLeod nodded.

" And leaves the feathered nest for the great unknown," he
replied bitterly.

" Birds and animals all do the same thing, why should a
girl change nature ? "

The old man calmly answered, as calmly helped himself to
a generous slice of pasty and commenced to eat. Not that he
was particularly hungry, but as an old campaigner he had
learned to take advantage of every opportunity to replenish
the commissariat department. Now he ate rapidly, largely,
prompted by foreboding of the time when he might not come
at eatables so easily.

" Fill up, storekeeper," he said, beginning on a second slice.
" Fill up your gloomy internals. If they be deep as your face
is long, 'twill need more provender than lies on these boards."
Then he seized a flask of wine, near emptying the vessel ere he
ceased drinking.

" One would think eating and drinking occupied your whole
life," McLeod answered, staring at the closed door behind
whose panels waited a stern man accompanied by one dumb,
who, should he find voice, would place them both beyond neces-
sity of finding food. " Eat ! " he added fiercely, pointing to
the inner room, " and he waiting to devour us ? "

" He will have one tough morsel an he starts on me," the
old man replied, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand.
" Come on in. We will beard the lion in his den. Perhaps
we may escape as did a king of old, eh ? " Then he moved
across the floor, to tap lightly on the panel.

The other followed, but his feet dragged. He had a daugh-
ter to care for, and her safety weighed leaden on his feet.
"What was to be found inside?" he asked himself. If Cap-
tain de Celeron spoke? Told how he had been stricken to
the ground in the execution of his duty? He might even say
that, to save himself. There was only the word of an ancient
sergeant of foot, already under the displeasure of a haughty
dignitary, to prove to that authority, jealousy and drink, not
zeal and duty, were the real cause of the blow. Who would
be believed? Who be punished? And McLeod knew well
enough who would suffer. Knew also that his beloved daugh-
ter would share in his suffering, by the lonely grief that must
ensue wrhen an only parent should be cut off.

1 88 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

Then he was suddenly roused from reverie by an abrupt
command to enter. With his ancient friend, he entered to
discover the Abbe seated, waiting. He never forgot that en-
trance.

Two stools were placed before a table drawn across the
room. He shivered as he moved to one, the other offered to
Sergeant Pere, who with the ghost of a grin dropped quietly
into his place. And the Abbe lost little time in coming to the
point.

" Inform the good brother we await his coming," he said
sharply to Ambrose, who immediately hurried from the room,
and the breeze flickering the candles, causing the room to
darken, seemed a warning to the two of their own coming
dark end. " Ah," he continued, as the doctor with his patient
appeared and seated themselves, " now I will be patient — very
patient, but the truth must be mine. Now, Brother," he
added, " what have you to say ? "

" The young man is still under the influence of a powerful
drug, your reverence," the medical man said with some dig-
nity. <"He— "

" Is not yet recovered, you would say?" came the hasty in-
terruption, for it was clear to all that Captain de Celeron was
not himself, intimated by the vacant manner in which he stared
about the room. "Not yet?" he added, and frowned at his
confrere.

" Your reverence," he said slowly, " as I say, my patient is
under the influence of a drug, whose power in the treatment
of a dumbness the revered Hippocrates, in his learned ' Prog-
nosis ' highly recommends to my profession. I — "

" Spare us, good Brother," the Abbe said sharply. " Doubt-
less the treatment of such a worthy man is of the best, and of
a nature to restore speech, but I am not skilled in the art of
medicine. I have little desire to know the cure; what I ask
from you, is, not a lecture, not empty words, but speech from
this officer. I am sadly disappointed," he ended, shaking his
head. " Sadly," as the doctor commenced anew.

" He will come to reason, reverend sir, but time is required.
Time .for the drug administered to — " Again he was
silenced.

"Time! good Brother. Time! I have little enough to
spare of that valuable commodity. I seem to waste it here in

apt

HOW A DUMB MAN RECOVERED SPEECH 189

trying to discover why and how Fort Toronto has received
much damage, and the cause of New France imperiled in a
quarrel with our sworn allies, the harmless Missassagas."

" Reverend sir, as I repeat, time alone will cure the patient.
The drug of itself is but accessory to the cure. Hippocrates
himself has cited many such instances of waiting. He — "

" Aye, aye, my learned friend, your authority is correct.
That I doubt not for a moment, but the remedy, time, I may
not wait for."

" I have done all that my poor skill may," Brother Alonzo
said slowly. " Not only does Hippocrates verify the power
of this drug in the treatment of dumbness, but Marignolli,
describing his travels to our departed Father in God, Benedict
the XII, of blessed memory, speaks of a similar drug exerting
much influence upon the brain of dumb ones coming under his
treatment. Perchance 'tis the same I use, though under dif-
ferent form. I — "

" Yes, yes, good doctor," interrupted the Abbe impatiently,
growing tired of a lecture on materia medica producing no re-
sult. " Yes, yes, I understand all that, but what are we to
do in the particular case under your own care? " And Brother
Alonzo could only reiterate his statement that time was needed,
to be waved harshly away by his superior.

McLeod, listening eagerly, began to take heart. The con-
tinued silence of his officer was at least a temporary respite,
and he ventured a deep sigh of relief. Sergeant Pere, erect
as a ramrod on end, sat with his eyes fastened on the opposite
wall. As he noted the disappointment of the Abbe, he came
near chuckling out loud. In fact, the little noise he did make
fell on the ears of the stern man drumming with nervous fin-
gers on the rough table-top.

" Ah/' he said sharply, with a glance at the old one who
coughed hastily to hide his confusion, " perhaps 'twere well
that your former deposition be read to you in the presence of
witnesses, and sworn to by you both, ere the same be forwarded
to the Intendant at Quebec. Read, Ambrose. Soldier, and
you Monsieur Storekeeper, listen attentively."

The secretary cleared his throat. Was about to commence,
when the sharp crack of a musket shattered the uneasy silence
of the room. Sergeant Pere, in the midst of a desperate effort
of memory to remember his exact statement, rose to his feet.

i9o THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

Forgetful of respect, he ran out, banging the door to after his
exit with a thud shaking the copper candlesticks almost from
their places. McLeod was about to follow, but was chained
to the spot by a chill command.

" One is enough to carry trouble, good storekeeper," the
Abbe said hurriedly, stopped from further speech by Captain
de Celeron who rose from his chair, clutching at the table with
trembling hands, his face working with some inward emotion,
the sudden sound of his trade had dragged to the surface of
his brain. " Poor young man," he added in pitying tones, and
as Brother Alonzo attended studiously observed his patient.
" Surely, good Brother, he is about to speak."

Suddenly the officer opened his mouth, succeeded in uttering
some unintelligible sounds. Then with a white froth gather-
ing on whiter lips he collapsed into his chair, his head falling
forward on the table with a dull thud. And the Abbe became,
from the look on his features, a most disappointed, impatient
man.

" Hippocrates speaks of such symptoms," Brother Alonzo
said, pausing in the act of compounding a medicine. " One
such case was of a boy recovering speech at sound of the
oracle at Delphos."

" Sound of Satan is what you intend to say," snapped the
irate Abbe. ' 'Twas the Almighty One restoring speech,
though the heathen doctor you, as a Christian, revere over too
much thought otherwise, no doubt."

The door thrust violently open, interrupted Brother Alonzo,
ready in defense of his high authority. Sergeant Pere en-
tered, followed by Francis Birnon with Senascot, carrying be-
tween them the senseless form of Rose of the Hills. Made-
line, her features pallid with horror, held one poor torn arm,
her face a mirror reflecting the emotions of the company on
which they intruded.

The Abbe was first to recover from surprise. " Who have
we here?" he exclaimed. "What means this intrusion?"
And the storekeeper's daughter hurried to his side.

" Reverend sir," she said, " I beseech you to allow this poor
girl to be carried to the room you use. She has been griev-
ously wounded at the hands of the Iroquois. See, her arm
is bloody to the elbow."

" At once, my child," he answered quickly. " Think not

HOW A DUMB MAN RECOVERED SPEECH 191

of my comfort. Brother Alonzo, I pray you at once give aid
to the wants of this poor heathen." Then he stood aside to
allow them to carry the still figure past him, and he shuddered
as he noted the horrid wounds visible through torn garments.

Rose of the Hills was literally in rags. Her buckskin shirt
was cut to ribbons, exposing a bare brown bosom scarred with
knife wounds. Her naked shoulders betrayed charred pine
splinters stuck deep into their smooth surface, and her lips
were torn and bleeding, as though bitten deep to repress out-
ward sign of the torture her poor flesh had been forced to
suffer. As the little procession entered the inner room, the
Abbe, stern, austere as he was, allowed a groan to escape his
quivering lips. " Oh, that such deeds should be perpetrated
in so fair a land," he muttered. " Lord, I beseech Thee to
have mercy on the souls of those responsible for such horrid
work." Then the door opened quietly and three men came
out. He turned, pity wiped from his features. Once again
he was authority personified.

" Give some account of yourselves," he said harshly. " Who
is this white stranger? The Indian I perceive by his head
dress to be of the Missassagas."

Senascot stepped proudly forward, one arm placed affec-
tionately over the shoulder of the man he once had hated. The
storekeeper also moved toward the table, and Sergeant Pere,
not to be outdone in bravery, boldly took his place in line with
the three. McLeod was about to speak. Tell the whole
truth and take the blame upon his lonely shoulders, when sud-
denly, without apparent reason, Captain de Celeron rose to his
feet, pushing aside the ready arm thrown out by the Abbe to
restrain his movements.

" Why has Senascot removed the thongs from this man ? "
he asked harshly. " Was it not my order he be confined to
the ' pit ' ? Sergeant Pere, why are my commands openly dis-
obeyed ? " Then he rubbed his forehead as if striving to re-
member, stared at the Abbe, grimly silent, to resume his seat
as though sudden effort had exhausted his vitality.

" I perceive speech has returned to you, young _sir," the Abbe
said at last. " You are aware of our authority ? " Again
Captain de Celeron struggled to stand, clutched at the table,
wavered, ere he answered.

"I — I — I am not well," he stammered thickly. " I know

i92 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

in whose presence I am. That of the Most Reverend, the
Abbe Picquet."

" That is well. Now shall we come to the bottom of a most
puzzling mystery. That is, if you are able to continue."

" I am somewhat dizzy, reverend sir, but with a glass of
wine by your permission," — Again hesitation rested on the lips
of the young officer. His face flushed red, the veins stood out
on his white forehead, distended with hatred of the man he
thought a spy, and knew for a most detested rival. " Thanks
to you, sir," he said, as a cup of wine was poured and handed ;
slowly swallowed to gain time.

The draft restored his faculties. Across his mind raced a
flood of remembrance. The guardhouse, the request of the
girl for assistance, his own sitting at the bottle. Then, a
struggle with someone — He savaged both lips to restore the
face of that one! Suddenly he became aware of a cold glance
centered full on his convulsed features, and summoning com-
posure to a reeling brain, he strove to regain mastery of his
passion.

" With another draft, reverend sir," he said weakly, " I shall
soon be myself. I have lost a space of time I would give much
to remember." Draining the second cup to its dregs, he
leaned back in his chair to wait, for what he knew not, yet
determined to brave whatever came to the last gasp. " I am
better, reverend sir."

"Then how came you dumb? That is the first matter to
be explained," the Abbe said, shading his eyes from the candle,
to better observe the effect of his questioning. For several mo-
ments the question remained unanswered, and McLeod turned
white as chalk. " I am informed, an attack was perpetrated
by the Missassagas on your command," the Abbe continued to
supplement a forgetful memory. " This, their Chief denies.
Your Sergeant, who has taken charge since your illness, with
Monsieur McLeod, declares they alone are to blame. Can
you tell me aught of the matter ? "

Captain de Celeron sat bolt upright. How long had he
been absent from duty? he wondered. What attack had taken
place? Had his own folly been brought to light? What had
these two said of him? Did they know who was responsible
for his present plight? He ground his teeth savagely, at the
inability of his memory.

GlVE SOME ACCOUNT OF YOURSELVES

HOW A DUMB MAN RECOVERED SPEECH 193

" There must have been some cause for the dumbness afflict-
ing you, young sir." The bitter tones fell sharply on his ear.
" You, an officer of New France, dare not deny responsibility
for the safety of this outpost, whatever the nature of the
calamity unfortunately falling upon you." And the listener
woke; hurried to reply. Realized that to save his reputation
he must abide the story related by a prosy sergeant of foot he
had grown to dislike and a storekeeper he hated with right good
will.

" Reverend sir," he said with effort, " my memory is, as you
must realize, exceeding weak. Both these men are known to
me. I have lived with them many weeks. No doubt what-
ever, they have related the truth to you. Not the slightest
doubt. Could I hear their tale? — " He spoke as though the
very effort of speech was almost too much, and the Abbe though
still suspicious, commanded Ambrose to read from the Journal.

The drawling of the fat one consumed much time. Captain
de Celeron in a tight corner, knowing that if his stern in-
spector so much as dreamed an officer of New France would de-
liberately steep his brains to stupefaction; would willfully de-
sert his command for the sake of a bottle — thanked that slow
drawl, allowing his brain time to think. He saw as in a glass
the penalty for his several offenses. Degradation, dismissal
from the service. Such conduct as he knew himself guilty of,
bad enough to brother officers. To the Abbe — He drew a
long breath. He must walk carefully. Think well ere he
spoke. Guide his tongue by the tale he listened to with much
amazement. He started as Ambrose read the words, — " Cap-
tain de Celeron received his injuries at the hands of a desperate
man."

"Is that true?" the Abbe asked suddenly, and all he dare
do was nod. The secretary continued to read, and he listened
eagerly, wondering what next to expect.

The question of identity puzzled his brain greatly. For his
life's sake he could not place the man who dared the blow.
Then a thought leaped full grown to a bewildered mind. Who
else had reason but this spy standing at his very elbow. He
raised his eyes to smile, a smoldering satisfaction in their black
depths. At last he had it, and as he paid keen attention to the
recitation of the secretary, confidence returned. No mention
was made of his drinking bout. Safety was his for the mo-

194 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

ment. This interfering meddling priest would soon be gone,
and then?

He waited, paying decorous, studied attention to the report
of Sergeant Pere. At the conclusion, he turned to the Abbe.
With a low bow spoke in courteous manner. " That is the
truth, reverend sir/' he said gravely. " My Sergeant is a
truthful man — one to be thoroughly relied on." And Mc-
Leod surprised at the ready acceptance of such a palpable lie
to those who really knew the truth, heaved a sigh of relief.
Sergeant Pere frowned. He knew his officer. He feared
something in store to follow, but what — he could not say.
" The Sergeant is a good man, your reverence," Captain de
Celeron added with a smile, and the Abbe was quick to an-
swer.

" His tongue is of the longest at times," he said dryly.
" Now, young sir, you are certain of the truth of this relation ?
Of the honesty of these two ? " And as a low bow answered
his questions, he continued slowly, " Then we will take up
the matter of this stranger. What do you here, my good
fellow?"

" I had best explain that matter, your reverence, an you will
permit me," Captain de Celeron interrupted gently. " He was
captured by the Missassagas. Discovered upon the beach, I
understand. He was brought here at my command, by the
Indian who stands with him."

" How comes it he is wounded ? Does he give good account
of his movements? Of course he has a license to do trading."
And Sergeant Pere at the sharp questions, drew one long hiss-
ing breath, while McLeod paled, as he realized how close
death stood to his daughter's lover. " Of course you ex-
amined his license, Captain de Celeron?" the Abbe repeated.

" Reverend sir, no license was forthcoming, therefore I or-
dered him to prison until I might communicate with my su-
periors at Niagara."

" How comes it he goes free? "

" That I must leave to my Sergeant to explain," the young
officer said slowly, and the old soldier realized that his inventive
faculty, already near strained to breaking point, must be in-
stantly repaired.

" When my Captain was disabled," he commenced, after a
pause to wet his lips, " every able-bodied man was pressed into

HOW A DUMB MAN RECOVERED SPEECH 195

service. I ordered him to the walls, and he has done well.
'Twas with his assistance I brought off you — " here he pointed
toward his immediate superior, who flushed red, " when the
devils fired the guardhouse. He saved your life. I say he has
done well — no man could do better. That is how he goes
free. Matters have been astray the past few hours, but now,"
and he roughly placed a hand on the young man's arm, " I will
see he wanders nowThere that I know not of." As he finished,
he turned with savage gesture on his prisoner, though he found
time to wink slyly as he pretended violence, completely deceiving
both the Abbe and Captain de Celeron.

" Had he papers on his person ? " the Abbe asked sharply.
He was anything but satisfied. " Of course he was searched ? "

" Most thoroughly," Captain de Celeron hastened to say.
" Naught was discovered that would lead to discovery of who
and what he is."

" The Indian — what part plays he in this — ah, — farce ? "
And as Senascot stepped forward, the Abtfe started back,
alarmed at the fierce glare in his eyes.

" Senascot did cause his brother to be made prisoner," he
said hastily. " Senascot discovered him in the lodges of his
people, and mistaking his purpose brought him to the Fort — "

" For which you shall be generously rewarded, my son,"
interrupted the Abbe benevolently.

" Senascot requires no reward. Senascot was mistaken in
his purpose. His brother saved his life and that of the maiden
who was with him at the time."

"And where did such brave deed take place?" the Abbe
said with interest.

" Many miles down the lake, my Father. When the maid
and I set out for Niagara to gain assistance — " here the young
man hesitated for a moment, wondering how to satisfactorily
explain his share in the attack. Had this stern man knowledge
of the part his people played in that folly? he thought, with
keen eye to his own safety. Then he suddenly determined to
brazen the matter out. Lie boldly. Say, as explanation of his
absence, that he had come on an unknown band assaulting the
outpost. That he did not know of what tribe they were. His
one idea to gain assistance for his well-beloved allies. " We,
the maid and I, set — "

"Were you concerned in the attack upon this Fort?" the

i96 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

Abbe demanded, rising swiftly to his feet. " Answer me."

" My father is angry with an obedient son," the young brave
continued calmly, giving back stare for stare in such cool
fashion that his reverence was near satisfied of his innocence.
" She who lies yonder could tell much of my doings," he ended,
covering his face with one hand, under whose brown curve he
eyed the face of his questioner, taking keen notice that his man-
ner was half satisfying an unbeliever. " She could say much,"
he said slowly, and the Abbe sat down.

" If the maid and you were out on the lake," he said doubt-
fully, and the Indian, glad to escape so easily from further
inquiry, continued:

" The maid and I were well on our long journey," he said.
" One day had we paddled, resting at times to ease our labor.
Then we fell in with a canoe of the Iroquois. We turned,
sought to avoid them by traveling eastward down the Great
Water. The maid broke her paddle and we were forced to
land — not far distant from this place. That night we were
captured by our enemies, and the fear of death came near to
us."

For some moments he remained silent. Thoughts of the
treatment he and his loved one had received at the hands of his
hereditary foes painted his swarthy countenance black with hate.
In a voice, ferocious to the ear, he continued, and the Abbe
shivered as he listened.

" We were tied to stakes," he hissed. " Old women tor-
mented us. Slashed our bodies with knives. Because the maid
would not cry out, they pierced her flesh with pine splinters,
setting them ablaze. Some day I too will try my skill at fire,
and then — "

' 'Tis a command to forgive our enemies," the Abbe said
quietly.

" I, Senascot, forgive my friends. My enemies I keep close
to my lodging. Their scalps shall hang in my tepee to pay for
that they have done to her."

" I perceive teaching is in vain with thee, my son," sighed
the reverend man. " Holy Church even may not soften such
hearts as thine." And he slowly shook his head, thinking on
the many years he had sought to preach peace to so vengeful
a nation. " Proceed, my son," he said wearily, " I would hear
the whole tale."

HOW A DUMB MAN RECOVERED SPEECH 197

" Two days and nights the maid and I have suffered tor-
ture. My body you have seen — hers you have yet to see.
Then came, this man, my brother. Silently, at night. First
he carried the maid to the canoe to return for — me, his enemy.
Me, the man who caused his wound, that to this day he may
not open his mouth without suffering. What think you of
that, my Father? Was Senascot not mistaken when he
thought his brother an enemy?" And he leaned close, with
blazing eyes that stared unwinking into the face of his auditor.

" The prisoner is indeed a brave man," he said after a short
pause. "What do you here?" he asked, turning to Birnon,
waiting impassive. As he received no reply, " Can you speak? "
and his harsh countenance softened to a smile. None bet-
ter than he could appreciate bravery. That a white man
should deliberately venture his life for two savages, something
unheard of. "Where are your papers?" he ended, as Birnon
made motions as if to write.

" Now he will scribble again," Sergeant Pere muttered.
" He will restore all blackrobe comes near forgetting. His
brain is turned with such foolish work. I would his hands
were silent as his tongue." He scowled angrily, as the Abbe
exclaimed,

"You write? That is well. Your appearance is easily ex-
plained. Ambrose. A quill. Haste, lazy one," as the secre-
tary slowly obeyed.

Captain de Celeron sat amazed at the story of Senascot.
He started visibly as the prisoner came to the table and com-
menced to write. Was this fellow to escape him after all?
he thought. Would the explanation prevent a noose? His
forehead blackened with jealous hate, as he slowly rose and in
a most respectful manner addressed his superior.

" Your reverence is doubtless aware this man is of British
extraction," he said, and with a frown the paper was snatched
away by a man who considered himself most patient.

"British! British!" he exclaimed angrily. "Are you cer-
tain, young sir? "

" His clothing at least is of that origin. The pattern speaks
for itself."

" Then we will dispense with writing," came the stern re-
ply. "If he be of that nation of robbers he has little right on
this side of the lake. No doubt he is a spy. A rope is his best

198 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

ending. Away with him. At once."

Captain de Celeron smiled. Fate was on his side. That
statement of English birth had cost the fellow his one chance
of life. A rope was in the mind of the priest and would soon
be about the neck of this insolent interloper. "Is it your com-
mand that he be hanged to-night?" he asked slowly.

The Abbe frowned. " As well now as at dawn," he said
sternly. " I will not have these pestilent wretches coming
here to spy out the fatness of the land." And his voice rose
irritable, for the English had ever been a bunch of thorns in
his side, and he, though as a rule tolerant and merciful to all,
could not resist the temptation to remove one pricking irrita-
tion. " As well now as in the morning," he repeated and Mc-
Leod drew in a sharp breath between clenched teeth, while
Sergeant Pere cursed one man to extremity beneath his breath.
" On second thought — second thought is always best — I will
spare him a few days. He may tell us something of what we
have to fear from our enemies. Yes — let him be kept in
durance. I will question him later. If he remain obstinate,
I will make of him a warning to all trespassers on the territory
of New France."

" I will place him in the * pit,' reverend sir," Captain de
Celeron smiled. " Now — with your permission, I will retire
to my quarters. My head swims, I am dizzy at moments. In
the morning I shall be better able to attend you." And the
Abbe stared.

" Have you forgotten your quarters were destroyed by fire,
young sir ? " he asked angrily. The destruction of his mas-
ter's property was hateful to a careful mind. " You seem to
have forgotten — or did you know? "

" Destroyed ! by whose hand ? " gasped the young man with-
out thought.

" That I would give much to know. You surely heard the
relation of the Sergeant? Of the storekeeper? Both state
the Missassagas to blame. Who was at fault, I would give
much to know for certain." Senascot readily filled in the
punishment, likely to fall on the offender's head. " You will
of course requisition our allies. The guardhouse must be
built ere winter sets in, but I will go into details in the morn-
ing. I am tired." He yawned as he rose. " Place this fellow
in a safe spot, I will examine him at another time."

HOW A DUMB MAN RECOVERED SPEECH 199

Captain de Celeron saluted. Turning sharply to Sergeant
Pere, he said, " See he goes not abroad to man walls. Re-
member, I hold your life for his. If he escape, there will be
a vacancy in your company, and that speedily." The old sol-
dier touched his glazed cap with deference and prepared to
lead off his prisoner.

" Name of a fish," he muttered in Birnon's ear, " but he de-
sires to stand well with him. If you go, I ascend higher than
I wish. What to do, lad, I do not know."

They paused, allowing the Abbe to precede them. He
smiled, addressing Senascot leaning heavily on the arm of Mc-
Leod. " Ah," he said, " enemies may be forgotten ; friends,
never. I will see that your bravery is well rewarded, young
man. Richly rewarded." But even as he spoke, Senascot
slipped sideways, to fall full length upon the floor. " What
ails him?" he exclaimed, kneeling quickly. Then, "Brother
Alonzo, haste ! " And the medical man came hurrying to the
side of another patient.

" He is stabbed in a dozen places," he said, after a speedy
examination. " See, reverend sir, his chest is one raw wound."
The peaceful Prefect of New France shuddered at the horrid
sight; wondered to himself at the vitality of a man, calmly re-
lating a tale of heroism, while his life blood dripped from a
score of ghastly wounds.

" Poor fellow," he muttered. " What shall we do with
him?"

The doctor quickly ordered his second patient to be laid at
the side of his first. " I may do little for him," he said, pass-
ing into the inner room. " One thing, I have a nurse of parts
to assist me."

Thus, in a night, Rose of the Hills and the man who would
be her husband, lay unconscious and very near death, tended by
a young girl who was herself well-nigh dead of terror, at
thought of a stranger who was to die in the very near future.

The Abbe returned to his chair, a sense of nausea afflicting
his stomach, by reason of the butchery he had witnessed.
" That such things should come to pass in so fair a land," he
said aloud. " Of a surety, this night may hold no more such
horrors for us."

' 'Tis rest you require, your reverence," Ambrose said
softly. " Will it not please you to retire to the lodging pre-

200 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

pared in the quarters of the soldiers?" He was himself both
tired and hungry. The openly expressed wish for a master's
comfort, the secret desire of his selfish mind.

" Rest! Rest! " came the irritable reply. " How may a man
think on sleep when such horrors stalk abroad? Sleep!" he
muttered, and fell to thinking.

How far off, his visions of a peaceful New France! he
thought sadly. How distant, that population his soul desired,
to cultivate the land ! A tear started to his eye, that had never
known weakness, since the happy childhood spent within the
precincts of his own dear Old France.

Captain de Celeron standing waiting, was quick to note his
evident distress. He sneered inwardly. The wounds of a
savage made small impression on his military mind. He was
about to utter some expression of sympathy when a loud re-
port, the sharp crack of a musket, startled both men to at-
tention, roused the Abbe to the stern iron-handed servant of
New France.

" In the Name of our Blessed Lord, what is now to hap-
pen ? " he said, staring at the door, as though awaiting some
grisly sight. " What now ? " he said, as the door was thrust
wide to admit two soldiers, supporting between them a white
man whose clothes hung in tatters.

" Fort Frontenac ! Fort Frontenac ! " he gasped, falling on
his knees before the Abbe. " Fort Frontenac is destroyed by
the English, its vessels given to the flames; the town sacked —
burned to the ground." Then he fell forward on his face,
his head striking the boards heavily, causing the reverend man
to shiver.

" Oh, my New France," he whispered. " What days are yet
in store for thee." And he leaned his head on one hand to
weep tears of agony.

Captain de Celeron was first to recover from the silence fall-
ing on the room. Quickly commanding that attention be
given to the fallen man, he moved to the Abbe, touching his
shoulder respectfully. " I beseech you, restrain your grief,
reverend sir," he said. " Think on the soldiers — your ex-
ample — "

" I thank you, young sir. Thank you for reminding a weak
priest, a strong hand is necessary for the preservation of my
master's country." Then he dashed aside his tears, to say

HOW A DUMB MAN RECOVERED SPEECH 201

calmly, " Is the messenger recovered? Can he give us news of
this fearful disaster?"

The tattered man, whose rags gave slight indication of his
rank, struggled to his feet; greedily swallowed a vessel of
brandy at the hands of Sergeant Pere, and faced the two seated
at the table.

" I am better, reverend sir," he said. " Am able to give
you news of the greatest disaster befalling New France since
when, I know not. Captain de Noyan surrendered to the
English on the morning of the twenty-seventh of August.
The enemy opened fire on us at five hundred yards, then took
up position behind the old entrenchment, close at hand. We
were few in numbers, and were forced to retire, after a fierce
resistance."

" Oh, De Vaudreil," the Abbe interrupted sadly, thinking of
the urgent message he had dispatched to him but a short while
gone — requesting immediate ree'nf orcement of the fallen Fort.
A message heedlessly received, it seemed; as heedlessly neg-
lected. " Oh, De Vaudreil, your inattention hath cost the King
of France a jewel he can ill spare." Then he motioned the
messenger to continue.

" As I say, we were weak in numbers, reverend sir," he said
in a low voice. " I was secretary to Captain de Noyan, and
know the strength to a man. Bradstreet laid siege to us for
two days, and we were compelled to surrender. He marched
in, the Fort was blown to atoms, the stores in town • — and
they were plentiful for the feeding of an army corps — given
to the flames, as were the vessels in harbor, save two. They,
being loaded with valuable furs, were carried off."

"And then?" came the solemn question, for the fall of
such an important post as Fort Frontenac was a crippling blow
to a country soon to be at death grips with the most powerful
nation on earth. " And then ? Speak, man. Haste ! I
must know the worst."

" The enemy departed as swiftly as they came. I escaped.
Came hither in pursuit of your reverence. Some strong hand
is necessary now."

The Abbe paid little attention to the compliment on his
ability. " 111 news travels apace," he said, " but fast as it
travels I must go faster in search of Montcalm. Have you
news of his whereabouts ? " he demanded impatiently.

202 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

"Where he may be at this hour?"

" The last dispatch from his army states he lies before Ticon-
deroga — " But his questioner waited for no more.

" Captain de Celeron," he said shortly, " give orders to my
men to prepare for a long journey. At once! Rouse my In-
dians on the instant." The young officer ventured a remon-
strance at the lateness of the hour, but was impatiently brushed
aside. " Late, you say. If 'twere later, I would go. I know
no clock when my country's welfare is at stake. Haste, I say.
Would you have me go myself?"

Within the space of thirty minutes the large canoe was
ready. The Abbe stood with Captain de Celeron, to give a
last instruction. " See that the prisoner be kept closely
guarded — on second thought — " here he motioned the fat
secretary to his side, " Ambrose, I leave him in your care.
This officer will have enough to do in preparing for winter.
And you, young sir, heed me. Summon the Missassagas hither
in the morning. Say to them, their Father commands their
assistance. And above all things, lose little time in seeking out
the hand that dared to fire the property of our Gracious King.
Deal with him — you understand ? " As the man at his side
bowed low — " I leave all to you. I trust you will prove
worthy of the great confidence reposed upon you. And fur-
ther— a word in your ear — should the English appear here,
as they will most likely do in following up their recent suc-
cess, destroy this place. Burn it to the ground, rather than
allow a store of good things to fall into worthless hands. You
may not hold out against them with such poor assistance. Re-
member, young sir, follow my instructions to the word." And
Captain de Celeron bowed once again. Inwardly he chuckled.
His was a free hand now. The spy ? He permitted a smile
to wreath his lips, as he answered that question to his complete
satisfaction.

While the one conversed and the other attentively listened,
they had walked to the shore. For the moment the Abbe stood
lost in thought. The destruction of Fort Frontenac was like
to upset all his carefully prepared plans. He sighed heavily,
pondering where he was like to find General Montcalm and
whether that gentleman would, or would not, be persuaded to
his own determination. Ambrose followed them, a smile on
his fat face, that showed his pleasure at being omitted from

HOW A DUMB MAN RECOVERED SPEECH 203

such a hurried journey, and Captain de Celeron, watching his
features, fell to wondering how he might override a man whose
sole thought was for personal comfort.

Sergeant Pere, unperceived, had taken his prisoner to the
" pit." As he passed his quarters, he procured several blankets,
passed over to the young man who nodded his thanks. The
two "raised the heavy trap, and as the younger was about to
descend, the older said, " There is but little hope for better
accommodation this night. I will not say to her where you are
to pass its hours. Lose not hope, my brave. You are not dead
as yet. She — your own — hath the fat one by the ear.
Knows the road to his favor. It lies through his paunch, or
I am much mistaken. He is left behind in charge of you, and
I will feed him well. Trust me. Good night." Then he
hastily let fall the trap with a thunderous bang. " Name of
a fish," he muttered as he hurried to the beach, " 'tis a proper
swine's den. I would the pair who placed him there were made
to dwell within it for a year." Then he caught sight of Mc-
Leod, also hastening to the beach.

" We had best follow to see the last of him," the storekeeper
said.

" Aye. I trust 'twill be the last I ever see of him. He
makes my neck itch. I dreamed of twisted ropes all night
long." Then they came to the shore.

" I may return later," the Abbe was saying to Captain de
Celeron, while Ambrose, important and pompous, stood near.
" I may, but should aught prevent me, remember my instruc-
tions. Follow them to the letter." Then his eye chanced on
the secretary. " Ambrose, take heed what you do here. I
leave you as teacher and confidant of the prisoner. He is in
your charge. I trust you will prove worthy of the task. Find
out from him all he knows of the doings of the English, you
hear? And allow not gluttony to overcome diligence, or when
I meet you again — "

Under the red glare of torches held in the hands of a garri-
son drawn up to do him honor, the Abbe stepped into the wait-
ing canoe. As he was borne away over the smooth waters, his
stern voice floated back to the watchers on the shore. " Re-
member, my children. Follow my instructions." Then the
darkness swallowed him up, and though he little thought it, his
last honor had been paid at the outpost he hurried from.

204 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

As the last dip of paddles faded into silence, Captain de
Celeron turned to the storekeeper and his sub. His voice,
grim, his manner harsh to extremity, as he said, " There is
much I have to say to you, McLeod. Sergeant Pere," and the
old one stiffly saluted, " I think your tale to his reverence of my
doings needs explanation. Lead on to the storehouse. Dawn
is at hand, and I want the truth."

The soldiers retired to the stockade, Sergeant Pere with his
crony marching silent, side by side, Captain de Celeron bring-
ing up the rear, with panting Ambrose for companion.

" An you need truth you shall have it," the old soldier mut-
tered savagely. " You may find it little to your liking. 'Tis
easy for common soldiers to find excuse for drunkenness. Pun-
ishment to them but loss of a few days' freedom. You may
find a commission lost to you, do you go too far with me.
Yon headstrong boy thinks to play with his old dry nurse,
well — we will see about that matter."

CHAPTER XX

WHY CAPTAIN DE CELERON SAVED THE MAN HE HATED

THE return journey to the Fort seemed a long distance to
Captain de Celeron. Though his brain was clear, his gait
was unsteady. He discovered a senile weakness affecting his
limbs, and placed their refusal to do exactly as he desired to
the nostrums of the doctor, who had warned him carefully of
excitement. Yet, one thing he determined on. He would
have every detail of what had happened while he had been —
indisposed, he named it, for want of a better term.

" None stands between me and the spy," he muttered, " that
is — none save a fat man who may easily be molded to my
will. I dare not offend his master, but I tnink that the serv-
ant is of a different cast." Coming close to his moaning com-
panion, he said respectfully, " You have but a short task ahead
of you, sir. The prisoner will no doubt prove a stubborn,
contumacious dog. One you will doubtless be glad to be
rid of." But his only reply was a nod, for Ambrose was un-
equal to speech, the ascent to the Fort was steep, and his legs
were short; his rotund person weighty for their strength to
carry. " His reverence, of course, thoroughly intended you
to be speedy with him," he ventured, " I, as military com-
mander here, care not for the company of spies." And Am-
brose came to an abrupt halt.

"I — I, have, ah — my instructions — young — young
sir," he gasped. " When we — I, ah — come to the Fort, I
shall do as I am — am bidden." Then he resumed his wad-
dling gait, exceeding glad when the sentry challenged, and at
last admitted the company.

" I understood — that is, the Abbe no doubt intended —
you to be brief," Captain de Celeron persisted, as they stood
under the lantern-lit archway. " Of course you will be
pleased to be rid of such a fellow."

Ambrose, with difficulty recovering his spent breath, silently
stared his disapproval at such intrusion on learned authority.
The prisoner was the first man to fall under his own immediate

205

206 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

direction. Some fine flights of oratory la)' in store for his
hearing, hidden within the recesses of a brain that needed but
a worthy subject to produce eloquence. This young officer
was somewhat presumptuous to meddle with what did not
concern his military authority. He must be taught that His
Reverence the Abbe Picquet always chose the right man.

" Young sir," he said at last, " my master knew what he did
when the man was placed in my care. Time is of small value
so that I may please him."

" Sir, I doubt not your desire to please, but this man is a
spy. Your master knew that fact. 'Twas but his hurried
departure that spared the rope, and of course, you must under-
stand, though the Abbe be powerful, he is subject to the King
of France, a greater master, yours, as he is mine."

"The King of France is not here, young sir. The Abbe
is. I, as his humble secretary and most dutiful servant, will
not permit one single infraction of his last order." And
Captain de Celeron gritted his teeth. He began to see some
space of time elapsing ere the spy was his to do as he pleased
with.

" To venture interference between your authority is some-
thing I am beyond," he said hastily. He must by no means
fall out with this pompous puppet of a brief command. " I
meant no harm, Monsieur Secretary; I but desired to call at-
tention to the danger of a spy, loose within these walls I have
the honor to command."

Ambrose smiled graciously, completely deceived by the hu-
mility of the answer. He was of easy going disposition —
that is, so long as nothing interfered with his personal comfort.
Another most important matter had to be considered. His
heart was very weak. The least excitement brought on un-
pleasant dizziness, and he had been warned to avoid all sub-
jects that led to heat of temper. This young officer was per-
haps only cautious; had intended kindness in place of inter-
ference. Well, there would be plenty of time to discuss the
matter on the morrow.

" I am very weary," he said slowly. " Exceeding tired and
hungry. My poor body requires much sustenance to support
its weight." The last with an air of apology, as his com-
panion smiled. " Think you, young sir, 'tis too late to pro-
cure a small morsel ere I retire ? "

WHY DE CELERON SAVED THE MAN HE HATED 207

'Tis never too late to provide aught you may desire, mon-
sieur," Captain de Celeron replied with a low bow. " Ser-
geant Pere," he called, " conduct this gentleman to your lodg-
ing — he will rest there for the night — and set Peche to wait
on him. The men may dismiss. After you attend my orders,
attend me." With another bow, he moved off, followed by
the storekeeper, toward the storehouse.

Sergeant Pere led the way to his lodging, Ambrose wheezing
behind, and as he walked, he smiled. He thought he saw a
way to ease the strict accommodation of a prisoner. " They
do not agree," he grinned. " The young one thinks to have
his way, but the fat thinker is determined to do as he pleases.
Perhaps my stranger may be safer than either dreams of.
Sure 'tis, I will do my best to have a few fingers in the pie."
With this thought in mind, he roused Peche to a most unwel-
come midnight task, saw a bounteous meal spread on the table,
and humbly attended to a delighted Ambrose. " You have but
to whisper, learned sir," he said softly. " I shall always be
pleased to attend you."

" Ah," replied the other, an unctuous smile upon his fat lips,
" I trust to satisfy appetite, good soldier — nothing more, —
nothing more."

" With your permission I must leave you now," the old man
said. " My officer requires my presence. He is keen on
spies."

" Is he to be examined to-night, and I not there? " Ambrose
said hurriedly. " 'Tis not to be thought on — not for one
moment. I will not have it," he blustered, and again the Ser-
geant smiled.

" Nay, nay, Monsieur Secretary, 'tis not his doings, 'tis
my own that require some attention."

" Ah — well, then — of course, I shall not attend. Should
you hear aught that would be pleasing to my master, good sol-
dier, er — " And the fat one smiled graciously, while his com-
panion bowing low, promised faithfully to retail all that was
likely to be of interest.

" Good night, learned m'sieu," he said, backing out from
his quarters. But when the door closed, he said to himself,
" Name of a fish, but the Abbe was thoughtful to leave him
behind. He will save one I know of from a tight collar if De
Celeron attempt dealing in hemp. He may be brought to

208 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

,

reason, but when love enters folly comes." Then he reached
the storehouse, rinding his officer engaged with the tall doc-
tor. " Another left behind to pray for us. We shall do well
for sanctity in this place." The last words, a silent comment.

" But, young sir," Brother Alonzo was saying earnestly, " I
must follow the Abbe, my master. I am his medical attend-
ant. I must depart and that at once." The last in wavering
tones.

" I know not who is to attend you, reverend sir," Captain
de Celeron said in a vexed voice. This addition to his forces
he was far from finding pleasant. One fat man was enough
to contend with. This spare doctor was of different mentality.
Might see and hear too much. Yet, how was he to be
moved ? "I know not who will attend you," he added as
Brother Alonzo sighed.

" Ah, — well, of course, — if I must stay," he said. Then tc
himself. " Hippocrates would have welcomed such interven-
tion. Head wounds — two subjects — male and female.
Humph! I may discover some new symptom for my treatise.
Some most important knowledge." Without another word he
returned to his patients, lost to all else save science and its ad-
vancement at his willing hands.

Captain de Celeron followed his going with a glance ex-
pressive of contempt. Then he turned, shrugging his shoul-
ders, to seat himself at the table. " Now," he said, " now,
McLeod, and you, Sergeant Pere, prepare to speak the truth.
You first, Pere, and remember I am not a priest, who believes
every confession to be truth."

The storekeeper, though his heart was filled with thankful-
ness at the certainty his hands were free from murder stain,
discovered the old resentment still alive within his breast. The
domineering tone of the man he had well-nigh murdered was
a breeze to the blaze of his dislike. On the instant he made
up his mind to dispatch a messenger to Quebec, requesting re-
moval to some other post. Secretly, if open permission were
denied. In the meantime, for his daughter's sake, he must
abide by the autocratic rule of this haughty youngster. For
even yet, at this eleventh hour, he hoped to escape the conse-
quences of his struggle in the guardhouse. How? he left to
fate.

"Well, Pere?" he heard the object of his dislike say, and

WHY DE CELERON SAVED THE MAN HE HATED 209

he paid a full attention, " What have you to say? I have heard
a story. The attack on this place may be true. I was indis-
posed at that time. Suffering from the effects of a blow. A
blow delivered by whom ? Whom ? "

Sergeant Pere, standing rigid, rapidly turned the matter
over in his mind. If he took the whole affair on his own shoul-
ders would his crony escape? Would Madeline be the better
off? But would his officer accept such a statement, that a
sergeant of foot, well knowing the dread consequences, dared
strike his superior officer? A short shrift would be his, he
well knew; a flogging certain, as the least punishment for
such crime. Death in either case, for he knew his old body,
tough as it was, would wither like a cut-down weed in summer,
under the strokes of a heavy lash.

" Answer me. At once," his officer demanded irritably.
" Take not time to find a lie to fit the occasion." And that
word " lie " determined Sergeant Pere.

" I did," he answered calmly, and McLeod gasped, " but
there were aggravating circumstances."

" You did ! " Captain de Celeron said in amazement. " You
did, and you aware of the penalty? The rope."

The old man winced. If he persisted in his lie, the hang-
man's knot would blast a fair reputation forever. He gave
one cautious glance at his crony, thought of Madeline, while
the blood pumped to his leathery cheeks. Then saluting
gravely, he answered in a steady voice — " I am," he said. " I
have not served the King of France for so long a term, that
I am ignorant of what waits those who strike his commissioned
officers."

The young man sat immovable. His mind busy with rea-
sons for such hitherto unheard of conduct on the part of so
good a sub. He closed his eyes for a moment, to ease the ache
in his brain, taken advantage of by Sergeant Pere, to give one
warning shake of the head at McLeod, who stood with the air
of a man petrified. He had heard his soldier friend to the end
of a doubtful recital, half hoping that some way would open
for escape. But the realization that honor, life — everything
that a good soldier holds dear — would be deliberately sac-
rificed for himself, stabbed deep into his bosom.

Stung by a sense of cowardice, he half started forward.
Flashed through his mind that possibly this boy-officer might

THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

i full
_ i:i:_

take a more lenient view of the matter, when he heard
particulars of a brave defense; the preservation of his own life
when he lay senseless. That he might for very shame consign
the whole affair to oblivion. And he waited. But he little
suspected that the young man was disappointed ; had hoped the
fellow he termed spy had been the one to strike the blow. If
such crime had been his, all the military authority in New
France would rush to arms demanding the extreme penalty
from the criminal. The Church, coming to know the true
circumstances, pardon- a violation of Her commands, extended
in mercy to a common assassin.

" So, 'twas not the prisoner who dared lay hands on me,"
Captain de Celeron said slowly, and the two started at his
words, for neither had so much as dreamed suspicion lay in
that direction.

" He was nowhere near when the trouble happened," the old
man answered stoutly. " He was in — " Here he hesitated,
fearing to state where. That he had given house room to a
spy was like to bring another storm cloud about his near sub-
merged head.

With a frown, the young man glanced at his sub. " Are
you hiding something from me?" he demanded. "Fool, that
you are. Now, who was present at the time of the attack?
What was the exact reason? How came you, a sergeant of
long standing, to dare such offense? Why was the guard not
called? Why?" he rasped, and the other, deliberately, with
exceeding brevity, categorically replied.

" I was alone, my Captain," he said. " The reason, you
assaulted me in the execution of my duty. You were — drunk.
The guard was not called, as I did not wish to lower the disci-
pline of my men. As to why — I, though an old man, dislike
blows."

"You state then, your hand delivered the blow. That you
alone are to blame."

" I am, if blame may fall on a man preserving his life,"
came the respectful answer, and the young officer, baffled in
his one desire to establish the guilt of the man he hated, tapped
aimlessly on the table top. And Sergeant Pere shivered. The
drumming noise sounded exactly as sounds the muffled drum,
heading a last respect to the dead.

Silence fell on the room for many minutes. Suddenly a

WHY DE CELERON SAVED THE MAN HE HATED 211

new suspicion entered the mind of the unthinking drummer.
Had the girl — Madeline — any part in this mystery ? Had
he again demanded her presence in his cups? Insulted her?
And had this old fool soldier, who loved her fair form to
distraction, had he resented some fancied impertinence? Now,
attempted to shelter her slender figure behind his own withered
carcass? A smile came to his lips. He would see.

" McLeod," he said with a sneer, " was your daughter con-
cerned in this matter ? " Then sat back to observe the effect
of his question.

" My daughter was at home, Captain de Celeron. With
me, in fact, until I was summoned to the guardhouse. I was
there to witness your disgraceful conduct as an officer —
was there to witness the doings of a drunken madman.
You — a disgrace to the clothes you wear. I was there, and
'twas my hand that struck you down, after — yes, some minutes
after, your attempt upon my life."

The storekeeper folded his arms, calmly to await his fate.
His crony scowled in his direction, but he did not see. He
met the stare of an angry man, crimsoned to the forehead, who
seized the table-top to prevent a swaying body tumbling to
the floor.

" You ! You ! " he stuttered, with white lips. " You dared,"
he gasped, falling back into his chair, while Sergeant Pere
cursed the castle of fabrication he had erected, now ruined
and useless. Then McLeod thoroughly aroused came close;
bent down his white face to the level of the officer who might
yet condemn his body to the gallows ; hissed passionately —

" Yes," he said, " I dared. Dared fell you to the floor to
preserve my own life. Sergeant Pere may bear witness, an he
will — of your totally unprovoked attack upon my person.
Now — now, Captain de Celeron, do your worst. You dare
not hang me — a civil servant — out of hand."

"No — No?" came the chill voice of a man recovering
from a first surprise, but fully determined to exact the extreme
price of a struggle near causing the loss of a most precious
piece of paper. One, bearing the sign manual of the King of
France. A parchment, that might bring honor; a marshal's
baton — perhaps? Without that good writing, life, a cracked
shell, oozing bitterness and disgrace. "No?" he said again.
" We shall see — we shall see, Monsieur Storekeeper,"

212 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

y an-

*u~

" We shall see, Captain de Celeron," came the haughty
swer. " You may do what you will with the father — the
daughter, do you dare harm her — the very soldiers under your
command will rise in her protection."

The proud blood of the de Laudonnieres was fired to boil-
ing point, at last. Bubbled over the lips of their only male
representative in a wrathful stream, whose heat reddened the
features of Captain de Celeron, and stung his very soul to mad-
ness.

Slowly he rose from his chair. Pointing with steady hand,
he said deliberately, " Sergeant Pere, arrest that man. Keep
him safe until the dawn. Then he shall have a priest to put
him to sleep for the last time on earth. Now, I am satisfied —
but remember," and his eyes glittered strangely, " I warn you,
liar that you are, if he escape — you swing in his place."

The door of the adjoining room softly opened. Closed, on
the shaking figure of a girl, who clutched at the rough wall
against which she leaned for support. Her eyes were red
from much weeping; the corners of a gentle mouth drooped, as
if from many hours of anguish. Her raven hair was tum-
bled to a wild disorder, as she moved slowly to the side of her
silent father.

"Where is he?" she whispered. "Where is he?" And
Captain de Celeron overheard.

" Where is who, girl ? " he demanded, and she walked to-
ward him, with heaving bosom; eyes wide with terror.

" The prisoner," she replied calmly, striving for control.
" The man detained by the Abbe. What have you done with
him? You, Captain de Celeron, I demand to know. You
dare not hang him at dawn. He was granted life by the
Abbe Picquet. If you murder him, I will go on my knees to
your master. Demand justice upon your head, his would-be
murderer."

She spoke rapidly. Her arms extended as though to snatch
a man from immediate death. Delirium sparkled her eyes to
a wildness, mentally watching a loved form fading into that
distance from which there is no return in the flesh. And the
young man thought that never had any woman appealed to his
inmost soul as this girl in her moment of agony.

" You are distressed, mademoiselle, at thought of a spy's
death?" he sneered. "Be assured, he is not dead — yet."

WHY DE CELERON SAVED THE MAN HE HATED 213

" Who then," she stammered painfully, " who was to die
at — " and she whispered the last word, "dawn?"

Sergeant Pere stared at his officer, seeking some trace of pity
on the frowning face. But none was there. He scowled as
Captain de Celeron answered coldly, " Your father, made-
moiselle." And the girl fell on her knees, clutching the coat
of a man who held the life of a parent between itching fingers.

" I beseech you to spare him," she moaned, with much
humility, and as the young man smiled, Sergeant Pere dis-
covered a murderous inclination curve his hands tight.
" Spare him, I pray you," she said again, and the commander
of Fort Toronto laughed.

" You kneel to me now, mademoiselle," he said with a jeer.
"Time was when my love amused your moments — their pass-
ing changes the point of view, I perceive. I would not have
you kneel to me." And assisted her to rise.

" I implore you to spare my poor father," she said passionately,
paying no heed to his ridicule. " Anything — everything I
have, I offer to you, an you will save his life."

A wicked smile hovered on the young man's lips. Coming
close he whispered, "Your love, ma'amselle ? " and she shrank
away frightened, her heart near ceasing its beat, while two
burning eyes of desire fed on her fair figure, and a pair of hot
lips touched her white cheeks. "You do love me after all?"
he repeated passionately. And she ran to her father.

He had not heard, nor had suspicion of the insulting whis-
per, or else murder might have stalked swiftly in upon the
scene. He knew his little maid was fearful for himself, placed
her alarm to thought of his coming end. " Never cry, dear,"
he said softly, much in the same manner as when a tiny tot
had stumbled to a father's side to be comforted for some baby
ill. In the days of long ago; in those dark hours when cling-
ing fingers had been the only hope of one swimming to self-
destruction. " Never cry, dear," he said again to this slim
girl, grown so like her dear, dead mother. But his eyes filled
with tears he feared she might discover, and he suddenly fell
silent, holding her very, very close.

Sergeant Pere stood silently by; his scarred features now
white, now red with suppressed anger. Once he had near
stepped forward, when his little maid had kneeled to such a
man. Then he remembered. 'Twould never do, he thought,

214 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

for the two of them to be jailed at one time. He sudden
moved forward, saluted woodenly, but the glare in his eyes
warned the man he offered respect, that but a trifle more of
tyranny would cause mutiny on the part of at least one soldier
in New France. A sub-officer whose reputation was above
suspicion; one whose rebellion might cause remark at head-
quarters, among those under whom he had served with distinc-
tion, should he be forced to discard obedience.

" Captain de Celeron," he said, meeting squarely the eyes
of the other, " as sub-commander of the Fort, may I beg that
you reconsider your decision? Allow one night at least to
elapse ere sentencing an honest man to death. Time may
change your mind, my Captain. Hasty decisions are not of
the best." He desired time himself. Time to gather a plan
of escape for the only two he loved on earth. Flight, with all
its consequences to a soldier deserting the colors. A shudder
rippled up his spine. Some might term flight, desertion.
That hideous sound more horrible than all the moments of a
hanging. But he persisted. " I have not asked so many fa-»
vors," he said, and waited.

Captain de Celeron started. Possibly, he had been hasty.
Perhaps the danger of the father might move the daughter to
consent a hearing, and that hearing gain consent to passion.
Summoning a smile to his lips, he said gently, " Perhaps," he
admitted, " perhaps I have been a trifle quick in passing sen-
tence. You may remove him to — " He hesitated. 'Twould
never do, he thought, to place two such dangerous prisoners
as a father and lover together in one prison.

" I will do sentry go for him, Captain de Celeron," Sergeant
Pere said hurriedly, " that is, an you think such course neces-
sary. If the storekeeper be permitted to remain here with his
daughter, I will be his guard."

" That will do for a time, until other safety may be pro-
vided," the young man said, rising from his chair as if to end
the scene. " But, Sergeant, a word in your ear. See no night
escape is possible. You understand? Hanging is a most un-
pleasant death."

With these words he stalked from the room. The very
sight of the girl roused all the passion of his hot nature, and
he dare not trust himself further. When the door banged on
his retreating figure, three silent people stood waiting. Each

WHY DE CELERON SAVED THE MAN HE HATED 215

doubtful, each dreading the future, that might yet separate
their troubled number.

The old man was first to recover use of his tongue. " Name
of a fish, my friend," he said viciously, " but of all the idiots
in this spot, you surely possess least wit. Just when he began
to believe my lies, you must saddle yourself with blame.
Phut ! " he ended, repressing a desire to swear, in the effort to
ease his feelings.

Then a slender figure ran to his side; two tender arms were
flung about his neck and a pair of sweet lips pressed many
kisses on his leathery cheeks. " Oh," she said, trembling with
emotion, " you are brave. I heard — all, but thought 'twas
Francis you hoped to save." Again she returned to her father,
white and silent, trying to comfort him with many fond
caresses, and the repeated assurance that Sergeant Pere was the
best friend a pair of helpless people might have ; that he would
stand at their side, come what would, happen what might.

" Aye, I will, little one, have no fear on that point," the
old man said hastily. " Your father knows me. All may be
well even yet. I bested the Abbe, will try to get the better
of this boy-officer. Name of a fish, but they are a pretty pair
to serve New France."

" I would you understood how much I am indebted to you,
old friend," McLeod muttered brokenly.

"To me?" came the irritable interruption. "To me!
And I with an account on the books as long as the flag over
the Fort. You must be mistaken. 'Tis the other way about,
and as I like not to be reminded of what I owe, we will for-
get it. In any case the father of my little maid could owe me
naught."

The inner room door opened cautiously. Brother Alonzo
entered quietly, a smile of pity on his thin features. " Is the
maid about who waits on the sick ones?" he asked gently.
" I desire her presence for a moment — that is, if she be not
otherwise engaged."

Madeline kissed her father, released herself from his cling-
ing* arms and came forward with a low reverence. " I will
come at once," she said. " Take good care of him, Sergeant."
And with a deep sigh disappeared.

Brother Alonzo hesitated for a moment. "You are both
brave men," he said quietly. " I overheard. This good sol-

2i 6 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

dier is somewhat rashly outspoken where authority is concerned,
but he may well be forgiven under the circumstances. This
young officer of yours is over hasty, I fear. The Church shall
protect you both. My master, the Abbe, shall be informed of
the true facts. I would not speak so loudly of one who has
climbed high in the Councils of New France, soldier. My
blessing, my sons." Then he absently moved away. Turned
to the inner room, keenly intent on ministering to the needs
of his patients.

" He had me there," Sergeant Pere grinned, as the door
closed on the kind physician. " He is a decent soul, though,
for all he is a priest. 'Tis Madeline who has bewitched him
to assist us. Two men, sworn bachelors, both at her feet."
His mouth expanded to a grin. Help was coming where he
least expected.

" She is a dear girl," the father muttered. " A dear girl —
all that is left to me — For how long I wonder ? How
long?"

" Better rest, my friend," the old man said, with a glance
of pity. But the other only shook his head, and covered his
face with shaking hands. The sound of muttering followed,
and Sergeant Pere knew his crony besought aid for the safety
of a daughter, whose existence without a father's care would
be one of loneliness and misery.

With frowning face he passed outside. Beneath the silent
stars, pacing to and fro, he cudgeled his wits to provide some
plan of assistance for two men and a maid. He could see no
immediate danger for Madeline. Some faith he had remain-
ing in the honor of French officers. That Captain de Celeron
intended harm to her, never crossed his mind. Marriage, the
lovesick swain might press upon her unwilling form — dis-
honor— insult! Surely a gentleman would scorn that. As
for the storekeeper and the prisoner, the father and the lover,
they must be removed at once. But how? How? That
thought occupied anxious hours without solution.

The stars faded into the pearl gray of the dawn, and yet the
problem remained unsolved. The old soldier wearily pacing
the soundless sand stood still. " Another day," he muttered.
" One day nearer the end. Name of a fish," he added with a
scowl, " but I grow old. I must husband my strength for her
sake. She, at least, shall be safe while I live. As for the

WHY DE CELERON SAVED THE MAN HE HATED 217

father and the sweetheart, both their necks be in some danger,
as mine will be," — here he fingered his scrawny throat ten-
derly,— " if I assist their escape. Well — 'tis three to one —
death by the rope. I will take the odds."

CHAPTER XXI

HOW AMBROSE DELIVERED A MAN FROM PRISON

WHEN the stout secretary arose from the hard pallet
Sergeant Pere termed a bed, his fat body ached with
numberless pains, the result of long travel, and the uneasy
couch on which he had passed the short hours since the de-
parture of his master, and the present moment — eleven of
the morning.

1 'Tis weary work, this," he grumbled, waddling to the
open casement to peer out to the busy stockaded enclosure.
" I would I had never left Mount Royal, but we of Holy
Church must suffer in Her cause."

Then he moved slowly across the floor, his eyes wandering
to the storehouse. A smell of cooking came down the wind
from the cookhouse, and of their own accord his fat legs trav-
eled in that direction. " Ah," he said, sniffing the fresh, pine-
scented air of outside, "what an appetite is gained by early
rising." But as the hour drew near to dinner time he was the
only one at Fort Toronto possessed of the opinion that near
on half after eleven was seasonable arising. This fact, the
soldier cook was soon to impress on his belated wits.

He came to the open door, from whose narrow space issued
fragrant perfume of good things, confidently expecting to find
the maid who had taken compassion on his hunger the previous
day. But he discovered a tall, thin man in her place, busily
engaged in the molding of lumps of flabby looking dough.
In the interval of their placement on earthen plates, he busily
attended to various huge copper pots, all simmering merrily,
on the top of a red hot clay oven. And the succulent savor
issuing from their boiling depths added to an appetite already
ravenous.

" Is the maiden who attended me yesterday within call ? "
he asked very gently.

The cook waVed a floury hand in his direction. In a most
surly manner waved him off. " No, indeed," he said.
" Ma'amselle was here, as I now know to my cost. A fine

218

HOW AMBROSE DELIVERED A MAN FROM PRISON 219

mess women make, when they meddle with the tools of men."
Without a glance he turned to his occupation, and the visitor
stood wondering at such cool reception.

Had he only known how much good French brandy had
gone to the removing of one cook; and how badly that cook's
head ached at the moment he might not have wondered. But
being ignorant of the diplomacy of the girl he sought, to please
his master, he persisted in his determination to eat. " My
friend," he smiled, " possibly you — may assist a hungry man
to a morsel of breakfast."

" Breakfast," the cook shrieked. " Breakfast, and dinner
hour nigh at hand? If 'tis such you require, come again to-
morrow at five. Breakfast! At this hour. You will get no
such meal this day." Then he strode outside his domain,
swearing lustily, calling on many strange deities to witness
that not one scrap of food should leave his hands until the
appointed time set by military order and common usage. So
angry was he, so excited his gestures, emphasized by a long
iron spoon, that Ambrose gathered up his robe and fled to-
ward the storehouse, leaving the presence of so uncouth a
being, who, having beaten off the intruder, returned trium-
phantly to his tasks. "What does he think this to be?" he
growled. " An ordinary ? A Paris place of eating at all
hours? I will show him." And when the soldiers came to
receive their dinner, he had not yet recovered good temper.

Ambrose moved disconsolately off toward the storehouse,
being received by Sergeant Pere, who, after attempting a
brief two-hour sleep upon a bale of skins, had been forced to
rise. The storekeeper under arrest, compelled his unskilled
attention to the few customers who came to trade. For the
first time in his eventful life, he tried the part of storekeeper.
" What ails you, Monsieur Secretary ? " he asked coming from
behind the slab counter, noting the abject manner of the man
he desired to stand well with. " Is there aught I may do ? "
he added, placing a chair, on which Ambrose gladly placed his
weight, at once dolorously commencing to relate his troubles.

The old man promptly forgot his hastily assumed role. He
left the tending of two ancient squaws, fingering some silver
trinkets — costing a few francs at the makers, but now worth
many times their paltry weight in fur — to lend an anxious ear.
And as soon as his back was turned, the women seized an unex-

220 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

pected opportunity to annex the articles they ardently desired.
Then, with many mutterings at the high price demanded,
openly sneering at the new trader's inexperience, they hurried
from the house. But he little remarked their disappearance.
He was more concerned in the pleasing of a grumbler, who
might unconsciously assist the stranger in the " pit."

"You slept well?" he asked solicitously. "You had my
own bed to sleep on. I trust 'twas to your liking? " And
the other regarded him suspiciously.

"You pass each night on it, good soldier?" he said slowly,
for the bed was hard enough to warrant thoughts of practical
joking. " 'Twas as you use it? "

" When not on duty, I do, Monsieur Secretary," the old
man smiled. " Mother Earth is a stone to the place you used,
and many a night I use that couch."

Ambrose ruefully shook his head. Some other accommoda-
tion would have to be provided for his weight, he thought.
Another night on such a pallet was not to be dreamed on, much
less endured. " Though I am soldier of the Church militant,"
he began, in a tone modeled on that of his master, " at even,
when labor is over for the day, I at least desire comfortable
rest." And his companion thought that much might be done
with a man who valued creature comforts so highly.

"Would it please you to eat a morsel?" he asked respect-
fully. " A trifle of venison, with a slice or two of white bread,
and, say — a pint of wine to wash them down ? " Most hum-
bly did he speak, with difficulty repressing the broad grin ris-
ing to his lips.

' 'Tis true, I am somewhat hungered," Ambrose replied, a
look of gratitude beaming in his small eyes. "If the trifles
you suggest were immediately forthcoming, I might make shift
to appease my appetite until the hour of dinner."

On the instant Sergeant Pere departed, and as his lank form
faded from view at the cookhouse door, the secretary com-
muned with thought as to the character of his friend in need.
" He is rough," he muttered, " doubtless that arises from his
soldier occupation. He is of a kindly disposition, that may
be seen at a glance. I will come to him in the future should
I at any time be unable to bear with fortitude the dire pangs
of hunger. Ah ! " he added, smiling, moving to a chair near
the window, " this is a most pleasant place in which to sojourn

HOW AMBROSE DELIVERED A MAN FROM PRISON 221

— now that the Abbe has departed."

He was not long kept waiting. In a short while Sergeant
Pere set before him a platter heaped high with good things.
A cobwebbed bottle, promising much from its aged appearance,
accompanied a juicy venison steak, flanked by two green cobs
of corn, eloquent of tastiness in their steaming fragrance.
Without a word of thanks he set to. Seated on an old chair,
placed before an upturned barrel, close to an open window that
permitted stray breezes to enter the low room, Ambrose was
in his element.

Sergeant Pere placed a screen of skins about the eater. Then
retiring to his place behind the counter, he muttered many
comments on the behavior of his visitor. " My maid would
have done exactly so," he said softly. " She understands him.
She has the art of winning man. First the stern one, then
this fat one, then the lean one — all at her feet. As for the
stranger, he would be carpet to her all the days of his life."
Then he scowled. " I trust I may succeed with this last one.
He is our only hope against De Celeron, and if he is to be
gained by feeding, I will stuff him so full he will never leave
my side save to sleep." And he grinned, not daring to laugh
out loud lest the secretary, busy eating, should overhear and
suspect ridicule of himself.

An hour elapsed ere the old soldier thought to interrupt a
man at his pleasant occupation. " I must give him time," he
said. " Then I will hint at Birnon. Take him past his prison.
'Tis the only way I may hope to secure release from that cursed
swine's den." Quietly he moved across the floor, peered round
the skins, saying softly, " I trust the viands pleased you, mon-
sieur. The noon repast will be soon served." The last with
a scowl, as the eyes of the other slowly opened. Sleep waited
on good digestion.

" Ah — hum — yes, good soldier, the red wine was indeed
delicious. Delicious indeed to a thirsty soul. With your per-
mission I will retire. I am exceeding weary after my long
journey." And Sergeant Pere stared his dismay. Here was
not the slightest prospect of relief for the starving man he
thought to succor.

" As you will, monsieur," he said outwardly respectful, but
inwardly raging. " An you will come with me I will escort
you across the stockade."

222 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

Ambrose grudgingly removed his weight from the comfort-
able chair. Waddled over the dusty enclosure, purposely led
by his host near the " pit." " One moment, learned mon-
sieur," the old man said, stooping to lift with an effort the
heavy trap-door. " The prisoner has evidently been forgotten.
I will admit light and air to him."

" Saints above preserve us," gasped the secretary, starting
back from the yawning depth at his feet, sleep wiped from his
eyes at thought of possible horrors lying grisly in wait below.
"Who lies there?" he demanded. "Not the prisoner. Not
the man I am to reason with. Of a certainty I will never
venture down there. 'Tis not to be expected of me."

Sergeant Pere frowned dubiously. " If you command it,
I will order him removed," he said, in a voice he made harsh
as possible to fit the occasion. " Captain de Celeron is com-
mander here, and I must obey." The last with a frown of
doubt, but complete inward satisfaction. His plan was like
to succeed.

" I will not imperil my body on such a frail ladder for all
the Captain de Celerons in this wide world," Ambrose gasped.
" My master never intended I should do so."

" An you command — " the old man began, interrupted
quickly by his blustering companion.

" I do. At once," he panted. " Your officer is no com-
mander «f my body. He may order his men as he see fit, but
the Abbe Picquet, whose secretary and confidential I am, never
intended a trusty man to descend to depths unknown. Re-
move the prisoner. At once," he added, puffing with excite-
ment; violently red in the face at bare thought of such inter-
ference with his own private instructions.

Sergeant Pere slid to the bottom of the " pit." " Stranger.
Stranger," he whispered, as Birnon arose from a damp bed,
to shade blinking eyes from the floodlight pouring in above.
" Listen for your life's sake. The fat one waits above. I
have set a flea in his ear. He already dislikes De Celeron.
Is wroth at your confinement in this hole. Walk carefully —
gain his favor if possible. Say you fear the displeasure of my
little Captain — that is, if not able to speak, write him — the
fat one — that much. I cannot say more at present. Ask to
remain here. Now up. Up! I say. Leave escape to me,
and on your life, walk warily."

HOW AMBROSE DELIVERED A MAN FROM PRISON 223

The prisoner nodded. He understood the ruse. The order
of the Abbe, that he was placed in care of the fat man, had
not escaped him. He knew time was necessary. If hours
were needed to plan escape, then he would prove strangely
dull to the questioning of a duller man. Slowly he climbed
out of the " pit," in keeping with his assumed character, one
afraid to venture forth to stand before the amazed Ambrose, a
wretched scarecrow, whose bewildered appearance seemed that
of one losing wit.

"Is this the man?" the fat one gasped. "Wounded! and
in such dreadful plight." And as he received a doubting nod
in reply, he added with some concern, " Dumb ! Dumb ! He
is indeed to be pitied."

" But, Monsieur Secretary," Sergeant Pere said harshly,
" he is a pestilent spy. I pity you, in the task before you."

Ambrose closed his eyes for the fraction of a second. This
poor wretch shivering in the sunlight was a most pitiable ob-
ject. He crossed himself devoutly, praying he might never fall
so low. " 'Tis shameful," he said, " to keep him in so horrible
a spot."

" He is a hard nut," came the angry mutter, as the old man
winked one eye at his prisoner. " We keep him safe. He
lies below, until we swing him higher." And Francis Birnon
seized with an inspiration, turned to the ladder, hastily com-
mencing to descend. All of which impromptu acting deeply
impressed the startled secretary.

" He desires to return ? " he gasped. " He must be mad
with fear."

" He dreads my officer," the sergeant ventured, with a
black look.

" Methinks you soldiers be much too harsh," Ambrose said
warningly. " Much too harsh. This poor fellow is con-
demned to death, but at the least, a decent prison should com-
fort his last hour." And Sergeant Pere inwardly grinned,
though in his heart grew a respect for the kindly thought.

" Captain de Celeron gave orders," he commenced hurriedly,
but was interrupted by a secretary reddened to extremity in
feature.

" Captain de Celeron is a soldier, I am a clerk," he said
quickly, with some dignity of manner. " He, I think, is some-
thing of a savage in such treatment of so grievously wounded

224 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

a prisoner, whose prison is a reeking abomination. I will not
have it," he blustered. " Not for one moment. Captain de
Celeron—"

"What of him, Monsieur Secretary?" a smooth voice said
at his ear, and he turned, starting, somewhat fearful, coming
face to face with the man whose name he used. " What of
him ? " the other asked quietly, and for a few moments Am-
brose remained silent.

"I — I — ah, — " he commenced, stupidly staring, and again
the smooth voice repeated —

" You used my name, Monsieur Secretary. I regret, I
startle you, but my name was mentioned, and I allow no man
to take liberties with that in my absence."

"Liberty! Liberty, young sir," stuttered the fat one, "I
but used your name to this good soldier who carries out your
orders."

" I overheard you," came the cool rejoinder, " and desire
to know the reason."

"I — I — this prisoner — "

" Is a most contumacious dog, Monsieur, as I warned you,"
the young man said with a winning smile. " I perceive you
have already held some conversation with him — have found
him as I say."

" I have ordered him to a more proper lodging," Ambrose
replied, striving to regain composure. " One more in accord-
ance with French hospitality, and the wishes of my master."

Captain de Celeron frowned. " He is a military prisoner,"
he said sharply. " A spy, and under my hands."

" And also under mine, young sir," Ambrose stammered,
somewhat alarmed at the gleam of passion in the eyes he faced.
" Under mine, at the command of His Reverence the Abbe
Picquet."

" Who would be first to acknowledge military precedence,"
the other burst out angrily. " I dare you to interfere further
in this matter." And suddenly Ambrose regained his com-
posure at the imperious tone.

" My master is first in this land," he said calmly. " And
since you take so high a hand, I dare you to defy his authority,
vested in me his secretary."

Captain de Celeron turned pale with anger. Striding close,
with clenched hands, he almost hissed, " Have a care how you

HOW AMBROSE DELIVERED A MAN FROM PRISON 225

interfere, Monsieur Clerk. If this man escapes by your con-
nivance, I will string you up in his place, and the birds will
feast finely on such a carcass." Then he turned to Sergeant
Pere, standing a silent listener, " You too, take care. Bear in
mind you are under my command, and I suspect your hand in
this matter. I have not forgotten your brazen effrontery in
daring a lie to me, remember that. As for this fellow, place
him where you will, but by God who made me, if he disap-
pear you shall swing with a clerk for company, if he be not
forthcoming when I need him."

Ambrose, though inwardly trembling, ventured to interfere.
" Young sir," he said, " this good soldier is not to blame. He
kindly took pity on an unfortunate appetite — was about to
conduct me to a place of repose. We passed this most abom-
inable spot, and I, as a pitiful man, desired that some other
accommodation should be provided for a wounded enemy. If
harm be done, mine the fault." He smiled benevolently, de-
sirous of retaining the good will of so hotheaded an officer,
in whose company many days were likely to be passed. " Mine
alone the fault."

With curling lip expressive of contempt, an angry glance
that enveloped every rotund line of the other's garments, Cap-
tain de Celeron sneered, " Your appetite is indeed unfortunate,
Monsieur Secretary. Gave you as much time to meditating
on your sins, as you do the pampering of your gross body, you
might in time become a better man."

Ambrose gasped at the outrageous insult to his portly dig-
nity. His face turned an unhealthy hue, which was as near
white as he could compass at his time of life. Then he cast
aside fear. Came near shouting, so angry was he at the refer-
ence to his desire for feeding. " Boy," he stammered — " for
boy you be, both in age and manner — dare you speak to one
of my years in so impertinent a fashion? I warn you," and
he shook a fat hand in the air, " repeat such insult, and I will
immediately to those in authority, who will have you well
beaten for your insolent daring. One word more, and the
Abbe shall deal with }'ou." Then speech forsook his trembling
lips, and he waddled off to the storehouse, his hair bristling
with resentment.

Sergeant Pere, still as an image of wood, chuckled inwardly,
until merriment became painful. Nothing could have

226 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

better pleased him. A mild interference he had planned for;
a rupture, violent and open, something undreamed of in his
wildest flights of fancy. " My little man will find himself in
deep water," he thought. " He is in a proper sea of trouble.
'Twill do him a world of good." Then he fell to speculation.
Fell a-dreaming of what his little maid would say at his in-
terference to save the man she loved. Even now they might
get away safely together. Live, the four of them, in a home
of their own! A real home! One he had in his mind's
vision, of a cottage, whose windows were vine-wreathed, and
hung with roses. Grandchildren to ride on his stiff knees,
to ask with lisping, curious tongues of the wilds in which he
had lived. From whose savage depths he had rescued the two
they knew as parents. What happy hours. . . .

" What ails you, fool ? " a sharp voice broke in, and his
cottage crashed ruinous about his ears. " What ails you that
you stand grinning as though pleasure dwelt at your elbow?"
And the old man came back to the land of reality; realized he
was yet under the power of a man holding extreme penalties
within his grasp.

" Your pardon, my Captain," he answered, coming quick to
the salute. " I was but thinking, I — " .

" I will do that," snapped the young man. " And at the
moment I am thinking you play but a most unsatisfactory part
in this matter. Why are you absent from the storehouse?
Take care, my man, take care. You are not a clerk, vested
with a priestly power to ride rough-shod over my authority.
The lash is mine to use — remember that."

" Captain de Celeron," came the respectful reply, though red
blood glared in a pair of steady eyes, " the secretary himself
acquits me of blame. I regret the leaving of the storehouse.
I will return."

" See that you do so, at once. Do not stir from there until
I give you permission. Place the spy where you will, but, 'tis
his life for yours — so remember."

Gnawing his lip, the young man strode off to the gateway.
Maddened with rage, he stumbled past the sentry without so
much as acknowledging the sharp salute. Fury was master at
the moment. He cursed his own folly at a lack of tact.
Here he had heedlessly, needlessly, offended the only man who
stood between revenge and desire. He came to the leafy soli-

HOW AMBROSE DELIVERED A MAN FROM PRISON 227

tude of the forest ; paced the deserted aisles, cursing himself, his
command, and not forgetting Ambrose who had protected the
man he hated beyond measure.

The moment his commander disappeared, Sergeant Pere took
Birnon by the shoulder, urging him toward the storehouse.
" Name of a fish, lad, but De Celeron hates you and the fat
one," he chuckled. " You must pay all attention to the latter.
Wheedle, cajole, tell him tales — anything to keep his favor,
after what he has done for you." Then as they reached the
steps, " Name of a fish, why did not my nameless head think
of it before? We have a lean doctor here. He cured my
officer of dumbness, as you doubtless observed just now. Why
should he not cure yours? We will to him on the instant.
Come ! " Clutching his companion, he hurried him up the
short flight.

The storehouse was empty of customers — at least not one
Indian waited at the counter, swept clean of trade goods in
the absence of a storekeeper. If any had come seeking bar-
gains, they had departed with what they desired, deferring^
payment to a more convenient season. That was evident, for.
not a single skin remained as exchange for many francs' worth
of goods that morning gracing a wealth-covered counter. But
Sergeant Pere paid little attention to such trifles. He was
past caring for trade. He had gained one point, that of re-
leasing a prisoner. Now he sought to gain another. The
cure of the same individual.

Noisily he crossed the boards. Peered within the inner
room. "Ho! McLeod," he shouted to the other, busy with
the pages of a huge tome. " Where is the medicine man ? "
Then, in surprise at the smiling glance raised to meet his in-
quiring eyes, " Name of a fish, but you look pleased for a man
condemned to the rope. I am right glad at the change though.
Now, where is our long friend?" the last somewhat irritably.
He knew something must have happened in his absence without
his knowledge to cure his crony of so desperate an attack of
black dog.

"You mean the good Brother?" McLeod said, rising. " If
'tis he you require, he has but this moment left me. Madeline
is with him, caring for the sick ones. He is a proper good
man," he added softly, and Sergeant Pere scowled.

" He ought to be, seeing 'tis the nature of his calling," came

228 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

his surly answer, for he was inclined to jealousy where his
little maid was concerned, and liked none to stand with her
fair figure as he thought he did himself. " These priests are
the very devil with women," he added, and McLeod laughed.

" You will not quarrel with a man old enough to be her
grandfather, will you ? " he said. And again his crony won-
dered what had happened to make such change.

" No — " he replied slowly, as though turning that bare pos-
sibility over in his mind. And as a louder laugh greeted his
hesitation, "Quarrel! I quarrel. I am the most peaceable
man in — "

" In where, friend ? " McLeod asked quickly, laughing so
immoderately at the interruption he intended as a witticism,
that again his companion stared amazed.

" I do not understand such change," he said. " For the life
of me — no. I leave a man black as a thundercloud, return to
find him like a summer morning. What has happened ? "

' Take a seat. I will tell you."

" Nay, I must find the doctor. At once."

" Not on my account, Sergeant. I am quite sane.
Hearken — " But the old man hurried from the room in
search of his prisoner, returning with him, to leave the two
together.

" I am needed inside," he said. " Two old hags desire to
match their thievish wits with me." And once again he dis-
appeared, his loud voice, raised in protest with his customers,
reaching the ears of the storekeeper and his would-be son-in-
law.

For some moments they remained silent, each intent upon a
mental inventory of the other's quality. The older somewhat
jealously inclined, the younger anxious to make a good im-
pression. Then, the ice of hesitation was broken to fragments
by the intrusion of Brother Alonzo, whose warm smile of wel-
come at thought of another patient rescued both father and
lover from a most embarrassing silence.

" Wounds in profusion," he exclaimed pleasantly. ' 'Twas
exceeding opportune I remained. A bad scratch," he added,
removing with careful fingers the filthy bandage. " I must
have assistance. Come, my daughter," he called, as Madeline,
her fair features flushing a divine red rose, ran into the tattered
arms of the man she loved.

HOW AMBROSE DELIVERED A MAN FROM PRISON 229

" Dear one," she murmured, kissing him many times despite
his dirt. " Thank God you are with me once again. Safe for
at least one moment." And the lean doctor permitted a smile
to hover on his lips, but the father frowned, turning away his
head. An action Brother Alonzo was keen to notice.

" The doctor first, child," he said. " The doctor first, then
Cupid. Science may heal the wound in his face; the wound in
his heart, which I perceive is deep — exceeding deep — must
be left to your care."

Sergeant Pere poked his head . around the door. A grin
hovered on his wide mouth as he winked knowingly at his old
crony. " Name of a fish," he said, " but some I know have
luck. Were I to be torn piecemeal by wild beasts or
wounded by musket balls, 'twould be long ere I was fortunate
to have sweetheart, nurse and doctor at my side." Madeline
turned to smile at her slave. A smile that warmed his kind
old heart; that nearly, but not quite, disposed of the jealousy
gnawing the roots of affection planted deep within his breast.

" Were 'I to be wounded," she said softly, " I know of none
I would rather have than a teasing old sergeant of foot."
And on the instant he became boisterously hilarious.

" Come on, storekeeper," he laughed loudly, " let us leave
the chickens together. Come on! Come and inform me how
many pounds of sugar two old girls shall accept for two fox
skins. There are two without who have in mind they will
not accept less than a hogshead for two paltry pelts that grew
some ten years gone on the backs of skinny animals, who were
without doubt glad indeed to die to be rid of them. Come
on." And the father reluctantly rose to follow.

After the customers had gone — the time, not less than an
hour, so determined were they to get the best of the bargain —
the old man sat down and wiped a perspiring forehead.
" Name of a devil fish," he sighed, " but if all women be so
sharp at a trade, I prefer to deal with men only, though they
do deal in naught but hair." Then he added, casting a keen
glance at his companion, " I am anxious to know a reason for
this sudden change in you, friend."

1 'Tis but this, chance of safety for my girl," was the satis-
fied reply. " The good doctor has promised to carry her with
him when he goes."

Sergeant Pere stared with dropped jaw. His eyes opened

23o THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

to their full extent. Without a word he rose and hurried
from the room, leaving his crony pondering a most peculiar ac-
tion.

" Poor old man, he takes it hard," he said aloud. " He
loves her dearly, will sorely miss her merry tongue, and would
play defender to her, if he had his way. But, much as he
loves her, he could not protect her from De Celeron." With
a sigh he added, " If I mistake not, he will soon have enough
to do in protecting himself. The young upstart but waits op-
portunity to trip him up."

The old soldier, pacing the wide stoop, thought not of his
own safety. Life and honor would be little indeed, if by cast-
ing both on one side, Madeline could secure escape. His own
efforts had been spurned, counted nothing. Other arrange-
ments had been made without his knowledge, for her safety.
He was bitterly offended at that thought. Yet, he would have
welcomed those efforts, if — he had only been taken into confi-
dence. " 'Tis a blow I shall never forget," he muttered.
" McLeod passes me over for a stranger. I should have known
better. Friends are all alike. The only one I ever trusted
stole my wife, and I had known him twenty years."

Long, he paced the creaking boards. The bright eyes of a
merry girl had lured his confidence; gained his love and re-
spect. Her winning smiles were but the thoughtlessness of
youth. She had not the slightest regard for him, or she would
have found means to inform an old friend of what was going
on. " Friends," he muttered bitterly, " have I not had ex-
perience with their ways? I would not have her know it, but
I am stabbed deep." Then he walked off to his quarters.
Perhaps wounded vanity, in addition to hurt affection, played
a part in his anger of the moment.

CHAPTER XXII

HOW AMBROSE WAS DELIVERED FROM A FURIOUS FEMALE

THE setting sun gilded the swaying pine-tree tops to a
golden sheen; the night winds sighe*d soft lullabies to
their rustling branches above the head of a man spent with
the passions of love, hatred and revenge, restlessly pacing be-
neath their fast-darkening shade.

Captain de Celeron became conscious he was playing a fool's
part. The character of a spoilt child, robbed of desire for a
moment. A fat secretary the thief, and he, a commissioned
officer of New France, a veritable puling infant. Impatiently,
with a shrug of broad shoulders, he sought to pull wandering
wits together. He was ashamed, when he came to calmly con-
template his action of the morning. He had gone the wrong
road. If he would succeed in possessing himself of the girl;
if he would effectually separate her from the spy, he must assert
military authority. But, first and immediately, apologies —
humble explanations even — must be tendered to Ambrose.
Muttering at his own folly, he hurried along the narrow trail
leading toward the Fort.

" I must placate him," he said half aloud. " 'Twas an
idiot's act to even mention his appetite; to interfere with him
at all. I should have known better. Were his master to hear
of the matter, 'twould perhaps go hard with me. Father Picquet
has a long arm, he might take me sorely to task for my military
meddling — perhaps hear something of my — illness." He
had the grace to hesitate over the last word. But that did not
deter him from his purpose to immediately offer a most hum-
ble apology to Ambrose, a man he already disliked for several
reasons.

He came to the storehouse to discover his grizzled sub-officer
and McLeod busily engaged with a number of customers. He
scowled at the latter, supposing him to be within his own lodg-
ing where he had been ordered to remain. As silence suddenly
fell on the busy bustle of barter at his unexpected entrance, he
said harshly, "You forget my order?" And the storekeeper

231

232 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

flushed red at the insolent manner of address.

" Captain de Celeron," he answered slowly, but quite calmly,
" Sergeant Pere requested my assistance. I seek only the in-
terests of New France in aught I do."

" An he is so slow of wit, he may not do without your help,
you are better here than idle. Where is the secretary ? "

" He is not here, m'sieu. We — I thought him with you."
And McLeod raised his eyebrows in surprise.

" Did he not come here, after — that is, to interview the
spy?" The young officer glanced suspiciously about him, add-
ing angrily. " Where is the fellow at this moment ? Who
has care of him?"

Sergeant Pere resigned his customer to the winds of chance.
Stepping from behind the counter, he said respectfully, " He is
at present with the doctor monk, my Captain." And the other
frowned.

" Who ordered such attention ? " he asked with sarcasm.

" No one, m'sieu. I, under your own orders, tended store.
I was forced to keep an eye on the prisoner — he is worth a
life to me — and brought him here. The doctor monk saw
him and desired to examine his wound."

" I can understand who prompted such attention, my man,
but let me tell you the priest had best pay more attention to his
soul than to his wounded body. I warn you."

The old soldier had thrust upon him the fact that time was
exceeding short in which to prepare a plan of escape for the
lover of the girl he worshiped. Captain de Celeron was in
grim, deadly earnest. That he knew. Choking back his de-
sire to say more than he should of his thoughts, he replied
quietly. " My Captain, I am blessed with but one pair of
eyes — they, somewhat strained by age, and my body may not
be on guard at the ' pit ' and here in this place at one time*
I—"

" Enough of insolence, Sergeant Pere," came the angry in-
terruption. " You are relieved of duty in the storehouse,
McLeod will resume his occupation for a time. Now, find
the secretary for me. At once."

Captain de Celeron sneered; strode to the window, toying
with the tassel of his sword hilt, while his sub, with a swift
glance at the storekeeper, whose neglect of his counsel he had
by no means forgotten or forgiven, hurried from the busy

AMBROSE DELIVERED FROM A FURIOUS FEMALE 233

scene and ran across the stockade to his lodging. The disap-
pearance of the fat one troubled him little. No doubt he was
safely snoring. His weight too heavy for short legs to carry
very far. But an unpleasant surprise lay in wait for the mes-
senger. When he peered inside his room he discovered noth-
ing on the bed but the blankets. They undisturbed, tidily
arranged as when his orderly had completed an everyday duty.

" Name of a fish," he muttered, " where can he have
strayed ? " Then he turned, a look of perplexity on his scarred
face, and came to startle his officer with some unwelcome
news. " He is not in my quarters,'* he said anxiously, and
Captain de Celeron scowled.

" Is he in there ? " he asked, pointing to the closed door of
the inner room. "Haste! 'Tis growing dark."

Sergeant Pere tapped lightly on the panel, and being bidden
to enter, his eyes caught sight of Francis Birnon rising rapidly
from the side of his little cabbage. Brother Alonzo kept them
a discreet company, but they might as well have been alone.
He sat staring out of the window. The old soldier scowled
at the intimate appearance of the three.

" He is not wanted ? " the girl asked anxiously, her cheeks
paling. " Not — yet ? " she added fearfully, and her slave
made haste to reassure her.

" Nay, nay, 'tis the fat one, I am sent to seek." Madeline
sighed heavily, and Birnon came quickly to her side. " Ha,
stranger, I hardly knew you. Name of a fish, but you look
nearer the gentleman than I ever thought to see. 'Tis woman's
hand that is necessary after all to smarten a man."

Sergeant Pere grinned slyly at the girl, who blushed rosily.
Her fair fingers had stitched the seams of a lover's garments.
The doctor's busy hands had placed a clean bandage over his
mouth, and though his face was yet thin, gaunt even, from
suffering and privation, he was clean to extremity. For his
every feature had received attention from much needed soap and
water at her hands.

" Monsieur Birnon will soon speak for himself," she said
shyly. " His wound heal without a scar — at least, so Brother
Alonzo says."

" For which you are without one doubt most thankful," came
the chuckle. And she lost her smiling manner.

" If he were scarred beyond recognition, he would be the

234 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

same to me,'* she said with a touch of pride. And at the words,
her lover's arm crept about a slender waist, his eyes lighting
up with a thankful smile.

" Name of a fish, little one," Sergeant Pere laughed, " but
you take me up sharply. Of course you would. You are not
April weather, sun one day and snow the next. Of course
not." Here he glanced anxiously at the shut door. " Thou-
sand sweethearts, I forgot. De Celeron waits without.
Phew! He sent me in search of the secretary. Where is he?
Sleeping?" He grinned, glancing about the fast darkening
room. But the two lovers only stared, shaking their heads in
common, while Brother Alonzo roused himself to say —

" He passed without, by the window, some hours gone, good
soldier. I wondered at his daring when I saw him leave the
Fort."

"Leave the Fort?" gasped the old soldier. Then added
hastily, " I thank your reverence." For with all his dislike of
the doctor, his courteous, dignified manner impressed one whose
life had been passed in camp. " I thank your reverence," he
added in a more cordial tone. " I will return to my officer
and acquaint him with the fat — I mean the secretary's ab-
sence."

" Scoff not at his weight, my good soldier," Brother Alonzo
said with a gentle smile. " Were you to be burdened with
such a body, the task would tire your activity. He is a kind
soul, though at times over given to a leaning toward good
food." And Sergeant Pere discovered to his intense surprise
the art of blushing was not lost to him. To relieve his con-
fusion, Madeline moved to his side.

" Ambrose is kindness itself," she said gently, giving his
arm a little squeeze. " You will soon discover his whereabouts.
He cannot have gone far."

" We will soon discover him," the old man said, recover-
ing his wits. " Never fear, child, he is too fat to wander far."
The last with a grin, as Brother Alonzo shook his head re-
provingly. " I must to my Captain. He will fear I am gone
too."

" Francis is to remain here ? " Madeline asked anxiously.

" Certainly. Where else ? I am his guard, and I do not
purpose spending a night in the ' pit/ " With a loving smile
she thanked him for his answer. Words at the moment were

AMBROSE DELIVERED FROM A FURIOUS FEMALE 235

beyond her reach, and he was quick to note her emotion. He,
too, was thankful she recognized he was the man to protect a
lover. On the spot he forgave the father for the sake of the
daughter. Determined stronger than ever naught should come
between happiness and her fair self if he lived to prevent such
trouble. " I will see to him," he said gravely. Then a pound-
ing began upon the panels and he ran from the room, coming
face to face with an officer angry beyond description at his long
waiting.

"What detained you?" he rasped out hotly. "Does the
fool seek to hide from me?"

" He is not within there," the old man said hastily. " The
doctor says he parsed the gateway some hours gone."

"Passed the gateway?" repeated the other, surprised at the
statement. " What would take him out there ? Come," he
added sharply, " it grows dark. We must search the shore
and the forest. At once. Fall in as many men as may be
spared. Tell them off to parties. Haste, fool. At what are
you staring? "

Without another word he hurried from the room, pushing
rudely past the trappers, waiting to be served. All scowled
dislike at such treatment; but one had the courage to voice his
resentment.

" He is like all the soldiers in this land," he muttered sav-
agely. " We pay them gold for doing nothing, and they serve
us as though 'twere easy got as dirt." And Sergeant Pere,
following rapidly in the wake of his officer, paused for a mo-
ment to have his say.

" Name of a fish," he said grimly, " but you have much to
say of us. I think 'twas yourself that came crying to me a
week gone, of a Missassaga stealing your furs! Eh! Ah my
brave Jules, I think 'twas you that feared to go after him to
his tepee. I am sure 'twas you that promised me a silver fox
skin for my bravery in restoring your pelts. Ah, the brave
trapper, he pays us gold, does he? Well, I shall believe that
when my skin comes home." And leaving the man to the
mirth of his fellows, with a sneer he hastened from the room.

As he came near the entrance, he found Captain de Celeron
busily questioning a shivering sentry. " Had you the intelli-
gence of a fool, when you permitted such a man to wander forth
unattended ? " he was saying harshly. " Was he alone ? " he

236 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

rapped out.

"Yes — my Captain," came the stammering answer, and a
sigh of relief escaped the angry officer. For one moment —
one stupid instant — thoughts of a secretary accompanying a
prisoner to safety flashed through his mind. Then the sentry
said slowly. " He wandered toward the shore, m'sieu. I saw
him go that way." And Captain de Celeron smiled.

" Come," he said, shrugging slightly. " Command the men
to search there. He may have fallen into the water — "
Again he smiled, hoping his words would be proven true.

The sun was fast sinking to a red rest, when the search par-
ties, fatigued with close scrutiny of the surrounding forest and
the long length of beach, gave up their efforts, to stand together
near the wide expanse of sullen blue-black water.

" What think you of his disappearance ? " Captain de Celeron
asked his sub, standing silent, a gloomy look on his scarred
face.

" He is too fat to travel far," he answered slowly ; " that
is, when his feet serve to carry his body."

" Think you he went into the forest ? "

" He would not dare venture there, my Captain ; he is — "
Here he hesitated, while the other laughed, as though enjoying
a joke.

" You would say fear prevents him ? " he said, twisting a
mustache to needle ends. " That may be so, but possibly he
desires to meditate on his sins. -We will not disturb him."
The last with a wicked smile. " Bacle to the Fort — we have
done all we may." He whistled as he turned, but his sub
shivered.

"The fat one gone," he muttered. "Gone! Where? I
see a rope too near my stranger's neck." When the gateway
was reached, he dismissed the men, calmly, with his usual pre-
cision of manner. Then a vindictive voice said at his ear —

" Sergeant Pere, at daybreak, your friend, the spy — hangs.
You understand — swings at the end of a rope." And, as a
flicker of dislike twisted his lips, " I see the execution displeases
you, but such is my express command. Take warning, if the
fellow escape 'tween now and sunrise, the rope that should
have fitted his neck, tightens about yours."

Captain de Celeron smiled, turned on his heel to his quar-
ters, humming a ditty as he moved. A love song, learned long

AMBROSE DELIVERED FROM A FURIOUS FEMALE- 237

ago in that wonderful nest of palaces and slums — Paris. One
having for theme the bliss of an unblessed attachment, with
its accompaniment of sorry love. He was merry, almost elated,
at the disappearance of the secretary. An opportunity hitherto
undreamed of — an occasion to be speedily taken advantage of.
Laughter widened his lips as he thought of the coming sunrise,
whose pearl gray clouds should witness the struggles of a man
swaying at the end of a long rope.

" She will soon forget him," he smiled ; " then will come my
turn." As he opened the door, " I wonder will she run to
greet me? Or — " and the unended sentence caused a frown
to crease his high white forehead. " Bah ! she is like all women.
She will soon forget."

Sergeant Pere saw to the barring of the gate. Watched his
officer shut himself into his quarters. Then with a scowl he
passed into the shadow of the stockade, out of the way of the
sentry, to give himself up to thought.

" He would not dare harm her," he muttered. " Dare
not!" he repeated as though to assure himself of the doubt-
ful fact. "What shall I do now? What may I do? Shall
I warn the three of them? Assist them to escape from his
clutches? Curse him! May all the fiends of the bottomless
place seize such a man as he is." Then he fell to cursing his
own folly for raving like a fool when he needed all the wis-
dom at command to think and think exceeding clear. " Can
I do it?" he asked himself, pacing aimlessly up and down the
soft sand. " Can I, a soldier of New France — aye and of
Old France for that matter — wait to swing like a dog? 'Tis
for her alone. Just her. Shall I tell them to go — save lover
and father — and hang?"

Halting a moment, he stared at a cloudless sky, whose gleam-
ing stars mocked his appeal with glittering silence. Thoughts
of the man who had saved his life, the girl who was dear to his
fond old heart, the father whose first offense in a long friend-
ship was that he had asked other advice, swept over his mind.
His maid ! He groaned as he thought on what he must do to
save her misery.

" 'Tis for her sake," he said. " Just her. I must do it. I
must to them at once. Tell them that I will follow. Will
see them — when ? " he asked himself solemnly, and the sway-
ing rope, the funeral tapping, came to mind. And again he

238 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

groaned dreadfully. He was so alone. None would see him
pass out to his long rest. " I might have known the youngster
would have his way. And they will not know. They will not
know." And as he moved out to the light of the lantern, his
swinging arms betraying the agitation of a mind distressed, the
sentry stared. He thought the sober sergeant had imbibed
too freely, so wild his appearance as he walked.

And Sergeant Pere at the moment was near demented. An-
cient in years, he feared as all men do at times the approach of
death. Sought by every honorable means to evade that sooth-
ing touch, smoothing from world-scarred foreheads the seams
of suffering and of strife. The end — an honorable exit from
life amid the farewell of friends, hard to calmly contemplate.
Shameful death, the hangman's knot, disgraceful indeed to the
mind of a soldier facing the grim pursuer of all men on many
a well fought field without one single tremor, or the quickening
of a heart beat.

A shudder raced up his spine at thought of the rope. Again
he appealed to the mocking stars, twinkling their gleams of
splendor on a soldier fighting the lone battle of his long life.
A struggle, all alone! A battle fought to a calm conclusion
for the sake of a maid. A sacrifice, offered on the altar of un-
selfish love for one who would never know. If she ever be-
came aware of the offering, to perhaps forget in the happiness
of wedded bliss. That one lay down his life for a friend is
the highest form of abnegation known to man. Even then,
some compensation is afforded to the sufferer, inasmuch that
memory makes the deed well nigh immortal. But with Ser-
geant Pere the case was sadly different. He was utterly alone.
He must allow none to know of his purpose or his object would
be defeated.

" I must do it," he said bravely. " I must. I should be
coward indeed did I bring grief to her, my little maid." And
as the resolution firmly rooted its resolve in mind, his eyes
filled with tears at thought of parting. But his troubled soul
grew calm. With even steps and slow, he walked toward the
storehouse, to warn the three that not a moment was to be
lost. " She will be happy. I — must be."

As he reached the doorway, while his fingers rested on the
latch, a loud outcrying came to his ears. A loud succession of
swift knocks, followed by a repeated pitiful outcry, reached him

AMBROSE DELIVERED FROM A FURIOUS FEMALE 339

as he waited. And ere he entered, he paused to make quite
sure. Then he stood and shook with laughter. Laughed till
the tears streamed down his cheeks. Laughed, and yet laughed
again with relief. For the fearful moanings frightening the
silence of the night, the imploring voice raised in dreadful
clamor for admittance to shelter, came from the lips of Secre-
tary Ambrose, the man whose presence would save a spy from
swift approaching death.

" One would think he -was pursued by a legion of the lost,"
the old man gasped as soon as he recovered breath. " He is in-
deed in deadly fear of whatever pursues him. I will to him."
And he ran across the stockade, coming to the gateway, on
which two hands beat madly for admittance for their owner.

" Soldiers. Ho ! Within, I say ! " came the terrified
scream. " Soldiers ! Admit me ! Oh ! I am pursued by
wild beasts. I perish ! "

Such an agonized howl escaped the lips of the man outside
that Sergeant Pere, somewhat alarmed, hurriedly opened the
gate. In a moment the fat one rushed within, tripped, to fall
headlong in the dust; a tumble that jarred his clerkly person
to distraction. Helpless with merriment the old man strove
to raise him, but the moment a hand touched his body Am-
brose began again a most hideous clamor.

" Oh, I am undone," he wailed. " Ho, they have me.
Peccavl. Ora pro nobis. The Saints have mercy, I am lost
among beasts of Ephesus." Groveling in the dust, he gabbled
the De Profundis, in a mixture of Latin and French; for
though he wrote a most clerkly hand, his claim to scholar was
not enforced by great wealth of learning. " Oh, Saints have
mercy," he ended with a dismal groan. And Sergeant Pere
anxiously bending over feared the man was badly injured.

" Monsieur Secretary," he said gently, " are you wounded ?
I pray you to cease groaning. 'Tis but a friend. You are
safe."

Slowly, with many efforts, Ambrose scrambled to his feet.
Leaning on the other, he said piteously, " Is the wild beast
that attacked me driven off?" Then, at the grin on the face
he gazed at, becoming conscious he cut but a sorry figure, he
added with some attempt at dignity, " I am preserved from a
grievous danger, my good soldier. Grievous harm, indeed."

The alarm in the Fort had become general. The soldiers

240 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

roused from slumber swarmed in a circle about the two. The
flaring torches carried in their hands dispelled the darkness,
and to some extent reassured Ambrose. Then suddenly Cap-
tain de Celeron thrust his way through the men.

"What means this commotion at such an hour?" he de-
manded harshly; as his eye caught the trembling secretary,
who stood gulping down something in his throat that had
never passed his lips. " Was it for your return this yelling,
as though all the fiends in the pit found release?" And his
angry glance, his contemptuous expression roused the secretary
to answer:

" I would have you understand, Captain de Celeron, that I,
a servant of His Reverence the Abbe Picquet, have but this
instant escaped the hand of death. A wild beast — a furious
animal of the forest, with horns and hoofs of awful appearance,
pursued me even to the gateway of this place."

A loud guffaw broke in on the rounded periods of the secre-
tary's address. The sentry appeared bent double with some
painful throe. Captain de Celeron, observing the man, shouted
loudly, " Guard, saw you aught of this animal ? Are there
Indians — wolves about ? " And the soldier in a clear voice
responded loud for all to hear.

" No, my Captain," he said, trying to restrain his merri-
ment. " No, 'twas but the cow of mademoiselle following his
honor to the gate."

Captain de Celeron tried hard to stifle the laughter rising to
his lips. In spite of determined efforts, the laugh would come,
joined in by all the soldiers to a man. Ambrose, staring
stupidly from one convulsed laugher to another — even Ser-
geant Pere was laughing loud as the others — could scarcely be-
lieve his ears. That a poor innocent cow should have been
the cause of his coward crying exceeding painful to one of his
attempted dignity of manner. His face colored a fiery red ; in-
deed he was on the point of bursting into tears, when the sol-
diers hurriedly made way for a girl.

"Shame! Shame, indeed on you all," she cried, her fea-
tures coloring with resentment. '* To laugh at one poor clerk
is brave work for soldiers." Turning to Ambrose, she added
solicitously, " Come, Monsieur Secretary, these men mean no
harm. They are but rude, rough, uneducated boors who know
no feeling." And with the fat man she passed through a silent

AMBROSE DELIVERED FROM A FURIOUS FEMALE 241

circle, not one daring to meet her flashing eyes, or even resent-
ing the stinging sarcasm falling from her red lips.

As for Sergeant Pere, he had swiftly stepped back into the
darkness the moment he became aware of her approach.
" Name of ten million fishes, but I am lucky," he said with
grinning face. " 'Twas well for me she did not observe my
handsome features. Did she so .much as think I quivered an
eyelash at his distress, she would tell me her opinion, and I
suspect its friendliness." He shrugged silently, but did not
once think on what she might have said, had she known of his
brave determination to save her lover. " She is wonderful," he
muttered. " Wonderful ! "

Captain de Celeron waited until the slim figure with the un-
wieldy body faded from sight. Then he said angrily, " How
came this disorder? On whose shoulders lies the blame?"

.The soldiers disappeared as by magic, leaving their Sergeant
to face displeasure alone. " On mine, my Captain," he an-
swered, saluting sharply.

" Dieskau fashioned good men," the other sneered, and Ser-
geant Pere again saluted, flushing red.

" Had he had me at such disadvantage, I should be soon
thinking cold iron poor comfort for arms and legs," he said
quickly. " Of a certainty he would have jailed me for breach
of discipline, if for naught else. I apologize, my Captain, as
I will to the secretary when next I meet him."

" See that you do so at the first opportunity," came the
sharp reply. " The Abbe Picquet might prove severe as the
man you prate of did he come to know of this night's work."
For a second the young man hesitated. Then he rapped out
curtly, " The execution is delayed." And strode off savaging
his nether lip to bloody lather. Suddenly coming to a halt
beneath the dim lantern of the arched way.

Sergeant Pere followed the movements with a sigh. His
keen eyes noted with some regret his officer appeared worn and
thin. Something had aged the man. Heavy lines scored their
deep furrows at each corner of his mouth. His eyes, set back
in two discolored circles of dark flesh, gleamed a baleful misery
from such hollows. Impulsively he followed. Touched his
officer almost timidly on the arm. " I trust you are not ill,
my Captain ? " he said, and the pity in his voice caused the
other to start.

242 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

«i

"111! Ill," he answered shortly. "111." The last with
some hesitation, followed by, very swiftly, " Nay, I am not
ill," passing a hand across his forehead, " that is — not in
body ; my mind, Sergeant — my mind — thousand devils, what
am I saying?" he ended harshly, and strode away.

He scarcely knew just what he did say. His mind yet
weak from the effects of a stunning blow; his body not re-
covered strength from an enforced period of semi-starvation
during the six-day siege when but weak broth had passed his
lips. He desired counsel, but not of a grizzled sub-officer.
Priestly advice, out of the question. His ardent desire to end
a man's life, his passion to possess a girl, caused a madness to
seize his brain, even yet unbalanced from a blow delivered by
the father of the girl he had in cold blood determined to bring
to infamy. Now, as he staggered over the dusty space, dis-
appointment, desire, revenge directed at two persons, a cle/k
and a spy, jumbled together in wild disorder, filled his mind.
Stepping over the threshold of his lodging, he banged to the
door, throwing his body into a chair as though exhausted.

Sergeant Pere, watching the staggering footsteps of his com-
mander, pursed his lips in a soundless whistle of perplexity.
" Name of a fish," he muttered slowly, " but he takes disappoint-
ment hard. 'Tis bad for youngsters, these lonely places. I
trust he gets not to my rum bottle. He has acquired a taste
for strongwater of late. Drink is the father of all devils, and
when a man seeks consolation of the bottle — 'tis bad. Lone-
liness, with but rum for company, is bad. Bad ! "

Doubtfully he walked to the storehouse, where necessity com-
pelled a lodging for the night now that Ambrose, with his
officer, occupied his own snug quarters, ajid ascended the
wooden steps. He turned for one last glance at the lighted
window of his room. Saw a dim shadow outlined on the horn
panes, of a figure raising something to thirsty lips. With a
scowl wrinkling his shaggy eyebrows, he ran down the steps,
across the stockade, to beat at the door of his quarters with both
hands.

"Who is there?" demanded a harsh voice. For answer he
continued pounding on the wood, until, muttering curses, Cap-
tain de Celeron appeared.

" Well! " he asked abruptly, and the other became aware that
harsh measures would have to be employed. " Well ! " he said

AMBROSE DELIVERED FROM A FURIOUS FEMALE 243

again, and his sub tried to smile.

" I came for clothes, my Captain. Come to gain them ere
you sleep."

" Sleep ! " echoed the young man with a mad laugh.
" Sleep — ah, — well, get what you require and begone."

Sergeant Pere quickly entered. With a quick glance to see
he could make no mistake, he marked the position of the bot-
tle standing on the table. As he passed, his hand — raised
to the salute — swept bottle and silver mug crashing to the
floor. His foot kicked viciously the falling glass against the
log wall, where, shattered to a hundred fragments, a shower
of tinkling pieces fell noisily to the boards.

" You fool — you clumsy blockhead," shouted Captain de
Celeron, half raising his hand as if to strike. " Fool ! " he
repeated, staring at the trickling stream crawling like a blood-
stain at his feet.

" Your pardon, my Captain," came the serene reply. And
he understood.

" Was that done of a purpose ? " he demanded harshly.
" Answer me, hound."

With not a muscle of his features moving to express resent-
ment at the vile epithet, his eyes steady as the North Star, the
old man answered very slowly, and his words burned deep.
" Captain de Celeron," he said, " I have known much trouble
to come of the contents of a bottle — not so long ago, that you
may afford to forget."

Suddenly the other leaped forward. In a voice thick with
rage, he shouted: "Go — go, ere I forget myself. Out of
my sight, I say, or — " Then he flung himself into a chair,
covering his face with two shaking hands.

" Name of a fish," the old man muttered, once he was out-
side with the door shut, " but he is mad. Mad of loneliness
and love. Wine and women, the one to the head, the other to
the heart. One at a time too much for any man — together,
hell for the best that breathed."

All night long he crouched under the window, through whose
horn panes he every now and then cast anxious glances. But
no change could he see in the disconsolate attitude of the
crouching officer. Not until the morning gun roared its wel-
come to a September sun did either of the two leave their re-
spective positions.

244 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

At the noisy summons to toil, Captain de Celeron suddenly
rose and came to the window, coming face to face with his un-
prepared guardian. u There are many fools in this world,"
he sneered. " You and I, a brave pair among them." And
the other, thinking his commander had recovered from his fit
of passion, grimly smiled.

" My Captain," he said slowly, " this world is a world of
fools, as you say truly. Some are fools for danger's sake —
those are ornamented ; others for love — those suffer ; others
again through loneliness — those die ; and we — you and I, my
Captain, are fools because we be soldiers, who sell our lives
to a King we have never seen, for a day's pay, that is ofttimes
never paid."

Captain de Celeron sneered at the raillery. " A philosopher
was lost in you," he said briefly. " I see a band of trappers
have arrived. Requisition their services in the name of New
France. The guardhouse must be built. See they be fed by
McLeod. I will be with you shortly." And he turned to the
careful shaving of himself, almost inclined to resent the fa-
miliarity of his sub, yet recognizing the good intention toward
his undeserving self. " Work is what I need," he muttered.
" I will leave rum and brooding where they belong. The first
in its bottle, the other to fools who know no better."

Whistling, he strode out in search of breakfast. Thoughts
of a prison soon to be completed, whose strong walls would
hold a spy until he stood looking his last on earth, made him
exceeding merry.

CHAPTER XXIII

HOW CORPORAL PECHE ESSAYED THE ROLE OF HISTORIAN

FOR many days the even current of life bore off the slow
hours to join the passed yesterdays, and to the casual ob-
server at Fort Toronto everything on the surface of that
stream was smooth as an uneventful June day. Ambrose lay
groaning in the storehouse, comfortably lodged — it is true he
ate little, which was something of a surprise to his host —
but Francis Birnon occupied with Madeline, smiling and
merry, was not openly sorry. McLeod resumed his duties at
the bustling counter, saturnine, but more at ease, while Ser-
geant Pere, busy from morn to night, made up for his lack of
cheerfulness by numberless witty sallies directed at the lovers,
whose privacy he intruded on by untimely appearances.
Brother Alonzo appeared satisfied to remain where he was,
after a long conversation with Captain de Celeron, who stated
brusquely, but politely, his absolute inability to furnish an
escort.

" Well, young gentleman," the spare doctor said quietly,
" I cannot depart alone. If my master, the Abbe, is incom-
moded by my stay — you of course will furnish satisfactory
proof to him my detention here was unavoidable." Which an-
swer gave the commandant of Fort Toronto some food for
thought, and inclined him to hurry the re-building of the
burnt guardhouse, that the laborers might be released to fur-
nish an escort.

" His master needs his dosing, he would have me think,"
he muttered as he walked to the walls one morning. " In
my own opinion he is like to live much the longer without such
attentions. He must be gotten away, though — that fat pig
as well. Both may see too much. Once they are out of this
place, — then — " And he smiled.

To his eyes, the stockade presented a busy appearance. The
band of trappers he had pressed into service — men who swung
an ax as readily as they packed a load of pelts — were squaring

245

246 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

logs for the building that should rise on the ashes of the d
stroyed guardhouse. Wabacommegat, with a number of his
young braves, squatted at the entrance. Thinking to advance
the work in hand, he speedily induced the chief to allow them
to assist. Promises of trinkets and food to each overcame their
dislike to labor. But what was more to the purpose with the
old man, a plentiful supply of strongwater was to be his for
duties faithfully performed. To the young men the work, to
his parched throat the liquor. With that alluring incentive
Wabacommegat proved a hard task-master. He had, when he
liked to display the power, a great capacity for driving others
to the extreme of exertion.

One other figure was careful to meet the eye of the young
commander. Corporal Peche, in the absence of Sergeant
Pere — detailed to inspect the encampment of the Missassa-
gas — was everywhere at once. His sturdy squat body mul-
tiplied itself, when his Captain glanced in his direction. At
other times he was not so strenuous. Just at this moment,
stripped to his shirt, his crafty countenance the picture of con-
tented authority, in a voice, modeled on the crisp commands
of his senior non-com, he bellowed orders right and left. For
though he hated Sergeant Pere with right good will, desired to
step into his shoes at the first opportunity, he secretly admired
the military swagger of the old soldier. Always imitated his
every action, when he from any cause happened to be absent
from duty.

Captain de Celeron, leaning against the stockade wall,
quietly watched Peche. He knew the secret enmity existing
• between the Sergeant and the Corporal ; was also aware the
latter was most anxious to cultivate his own good graces.
What the cause of the trouble was he did not care. The
Sergeant was a better man than the other in every way, and in
the bottom of his heart he disliked the one who curried fa-
vors.

" Peche," he called, and with alacrity was obeyed. " Where
is Sergeant Pere?"

1 'Tis the usual day for inspection. Is he needed ? The
men work well without him, my Captain. He talks too much
of his German Dieskau. I could, — " He hesitated, raising
his shifty eyes for a glance to see how his superior received the
insinuation.

THE ROLE OF HISTORIAN 247

" You could, no doubt, do much better without him at any
time."

Peche flushed at the sneer. " I too was with Dieskau — " he
muttered, " but — "

"You liked not his discipline? Left his service, or was
forced to leave ? Which ? "

" He ordered me to the lash," blurted the Corporal. A
ferocious scowl, flickering his features for a moment, died away
so quickly that his officer fancied he must have been mistaken
at the passion of the other, who ended calmly, " He ordered me
to the lash."

" So the record states, my man. Theft, and the pillage of
a mission. The sentence, two hundred lashes. 'Twas a won-
der you survived punishment," Captain de Celeron said with
a laugh, and the chest of the soldier heaved convulsively with
thought of remembered wrongs. In his rage he muttered
something that caused his young officer to come closer.

" 'Twas the fat beast who lies within there," he mumbled,
such a passion of hate in his glance, the other shuddered.
" The fat brute Ambrose," he added, savaging his lips until
a red drop trickled down his shaven chin, to hide in the re-
cesses of a hairy chest.

Captain de Celeron stared. Here was a tool ready to hand,
he thought. But what could a corporal have in common with
a clerk? Was the man making up some lie? How should a
thieving secretary go free, and the soldier robber be punished?
Perhaps the history, invented or truthful, might be of service!
But caution must be used. Sharp tools had been known to cut
the hand of the user, unskilled in their keen use. With a frown
to conceal his interest, he asked slowly — " You seem to harbor
resentment against this good man? Think he is your enemy?
Why?"

Peche, the sweat streaming down his tanned cheeks, seemed
greatly agitated. For a few moments he remained silent, then
with a gulp answered, " The sentence was just, my Captain.
I forgot ; but when I think of him — " And the cloak of mili-
tary concealment dropped from his shoulders for a bare sec-
ond ; under the agitation of a mind possessed of a sense of great
wrong, he glared his hatred.

"You admit you were justly punished, then?" the young
man asked with a smile. He guessed beneath a smooth ex-

248 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

terior lurked the fires of bitter hatred, ready at the first saf
opportunity to blaze out and consume the object of their deadly
resentment. " You admit the sentence just, but what has the
secretary of His Reverence the Abbe Picquet to do with such
a thrashing? "

The Corporal hung his head. Wetting his lips he answered,
" My Captain, you shall know. They said 'twas just. 'Twas
the word of a clerk against a soldier, tried by other clerks.
What chance had I for justice?" The last in a most bitter
voice. " A few jewels disappeared from the place where they
lay—" ^

"While a mission blazed, eh? You were a most precious
scoundrel, Peche. Sacrilege and theft! A doubly damned
crime. Man, I wonder they did not flay you alive."

" There were others, my Captain," came the eager reply.
" Had the fat beast who tempted me but closed his eyes — re-
mained silent — I should have escaped. 'Twas through him
I was caught. He howled, bellowed — much as he did the
other night — held on to me, until officers chanced by, and — "

" You suffered like the fool you were," the officer sneered,
goading Peche to his tale. " And he escaped. He is much
braver than I thought."

" He was willing to — " The Corporal stammered, ceas-
ing suddenly. Perhaps he said too much! The two might be
friends! His eyes sought the ground, but he instinctively knew
a searching gaze enveloped his body from head to heel.

" He was willing what to do? Proceed. What deviltry did
you suggest that would tempt so fearful a man from the path of
safety? Answer! But stay — follow me. I would hear
your tale. I like well to know what manner of company I
am forced to keep."

Captain de Celeron strode haughtily to the platform; the
Corporal, dog-like, at his heels. Inwardly elated, the latter
moved, his footsteps soundless, his crafty features an index of
a craftier mind. Confidences exchanged between superior and
inferior officers sometimes led to promotion of the latter, he
thought. If secrecy should follow trust! Then how far
might the trusted one rise? To Corporal Peche, the coming
interview was a first step to Sergeant Pere deposed, with
Peche reigning in his coveted stead.

" Now," said Captain de Celeron sternly, his back to the wall,

afe

THE ROLE OF HISTORIAN 249

from whose height he could keep one eye on the working par-
ties, one on his follower, " I know you for a thief, my man —
brave, too, I think; but — should you prove liar as well as
rogue — " He shrugged, and Peche, eager, hurried to reply.

" All I say may be proved by writing," he said quickly.

" That record, many days' journey from this outpost, as you
are well aware, and perhaps seek to take advantage of. Now
to the tale, I say. The tale and be brief. I have scant time
to waste on vagabonds."

Peche scowled, licked his lips, coughed, to clear his throat,
then plunged into his narrative with headlong rapidity.
" When my company lay at Three Rivers, we were some three
months' pay in arrears, our clothes in rags, our provisions,
moldy biscuits with rainwater to wash them down to starving
stomachs. The men fled to the forest daily, in company with
squaws — "

" You lag behind, Peche," came the drawling interruption.
" Others have been before you in relating the history of New
France. And what has that to do with the secretary? Deal
with him — I am not here to play scholar to you. Proceed to
the matter of Ambrose."

Peche respectfully saluted. " Your pardon, monsieur," he
said, " but such relation is necessary that you may know I tell
the truth. The reason of my — "

" Your sacrilege — well, out with it. I am waiting. I have
the musty history of this country at my ringer ends. To Am-
brose, I say. At once." Captain de Celeron spoke angrily.
He began to see animosity desired revenge. Thought the long
drawn relation but the account of a repentant thief. One who
by late confession sought to secure sympathy if not redress
from a superior. " Haste, man," he said sharply. " I have
no time for your private revenge." And once again Peche
plunged into his tale. He could not afford to offend this young
aristocrat, eager to hear his doubtful history.

"Then, my Captain," he commenced quickly, "we lay at
Three Rivers. Badly paid, worse fed, we were forced to for-
age for ourselves. I was of the guard stationed at the Con-
vent. There were four priests, with Ambrose, a clerk — or
something of the kind — I know not exactly what, but he was
there. He was desperately hungry. Near out of mind with
starvation."

250 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

" I can understand his despair," was the interrupting sneer.
And Peche, lifting his crafty eyes for a moment ventured a
smile.

" He was indeed at his wits' end," he said, blinking rapidly.
" One day I was on guard. He conversed with me. Spoke
of much money, easy to be come at, with which to buy food.
Hinted of rich jewels in a place where determined men might
remove them without suspicion. He offered to lose the keys
of such treasure would I share the loot with him, and I at
last, overpersuaded, much against my better judgment, con-
sented." He paused for breath, while the listener sneered dis-
belief.

" Your judgment was not proof against money, I fear, and
perhaps 'twas something the other way about. I doubt very
strongly, Ambrose possessed courage to plan robbery without
your counsel. An he did, he is braver than I thought."

" He was a smooth devil in those days, m'sieu," Peche an-
swered with a growl. ' " When I knew 'twas a church, I drew
back. For many days he pressed me. One day showed me
how easy the theft. I was hungry. The sight of so many
jewels maddened me, overcame my scruples. I was tempted,
fell. The keys wrere lost, I found them, and taking into con-
fidence another of my company — fool that I was — "

" There would have been more for one than three, Peche ? "
Captain de Celeron asked with sarcasm. " Enough for one,
but no more. I understand. You would have added murder
to sacrilege. You are a precious scoundrel to wear the uniform
of New France."

The Corporal scowled. He had intended at the time to
become sole owner of the treasure. How — well he was not
at confession. His one desire to implicate Ambrose the ques-
tion of the moment. A man to whom he considered he owed
two hundred lashes, whose lasting sting he ached to pay in
kind. He started, coughed, then plunged into his story with
renewed speed. So fast he spoke, that his hearer was forced
to bid him repeat many muttered and well-nigh Unintelligible
sentences.

" The jewels came into my hands," he said. " Ambrose
was to watch. He did, but someone overheard our plans, or,
what was more likely, the fat brute to save his own skin be-
trayed me. The jewels were within my coat. I ran, fell into

THE ROLE OF HISTORIAN 251

the arms of four soldiers. Then Ambrose yelled, howled, bel-
lowed, until officers came. I was arrested. He pretended to
have assisted me, that he might catch me in the very act. That
was his story at the trial. The other soldier was put to the
rack. I was spared that torture."

Peche paused, his eyes gleaming red, his passion so violent
he choked. Captain de Celeron almost began to believe. No
man, he thought, could simulate such eagerness to be revenged.
" How came this Ambrose secretary to His Reverence the
Abbe Picquet?" he asked.

" He was excused on the ground that he repented," Peche
growled. " He fled to the forest — that is later, when the
mission burned. Then one day he came to La Presentation,
besought the Abbe to receive him, so I understand. No doubt
he explained away well enough the circumstances. He always
was a shuffling rogue."

" You were both a pair of scoundrels," came the harsh com-
ment. " You think you have good cause against your clevei
confederate? "

" Cause enough to hate him both body and soul. Were I
given opportunity to revenge his treachery, greedily would 1
seize it. I waited on him the other night. He did not know
me — but I knew him. 'Twas all I could do to keep my
knife from seeking his heart." And the sweat standing out in
tiny drops on his forehead intimated to his interested listener
the exceeding narrow escape of Ambrose.

" Were you confronted with him, what proof have you ? "

"Proof! I need none. I have many things to remind him
of my features. One thing, he might remember the brother
he betrayed to save his own fat carcass."

Captain de Celeron started as though stung by some ven-
omous reptile. "Brother!" he exclaimed. "Brother, this
clerk — this secretary."

" Ambrose and I are born of one mother — • our father —
well, who shall swear to that ? " And he grinned hatefully,
while his companion gasped at such brazen expression.

" You are indeed an arrant blackguard to so befoul a par-
ent," he said at last. " A beast," he added under his breath,
while Peche curled his thin lip in a vicious smile.

" We were hung in a basket at the Foundling Hospice," he
said. " The Jesuits educated both* Ambrose was a fool,

252 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

could not learn. I served a lengthy term — was to take the
vows — as a matter of fact I did, but — " here he hung his
head — " a woman proved too much for me."

" You ! A priest ? " exclaimed the amazed officer. " A
priest ! " Then the superior manner of the man, a breeding
he had often silently wondered at, was explained. He stared
for many seconds, ere Peche began again.

" They unfrocked me for my sins," he said. " I deserved
that, but not the lashes. That suffering I owe to my brother, a
fat beast who deserved a share. I never was fitted for priest.
Holy Church was right. I deserved her punishment."

He spoke so earnestly the other came close to stare into a
pair of shifty eyes, raised from the ground, to confront steadily
the starer. "Have you lied to me regarding the secretary?"
he asked, sternly.

' Take me to him, my Captain. You shall judge for your-

Sell*

Captain de Celeron turned, to gaze out over the smiling lake.
He knew the truth was spoken at the moment, however far the
speaker might ordinarily separate himself from that virtue.
Yet, he could scarce believe his ears. Though he knew from
experience all sorts and conditions of reprobates were to be
found serving in the ranks of New France. But that this
harsh-faced, evil-disposed scoundrel who vilified a mother with-
out scruple, who was prepared to murder a brother, were a
safe opportunity of escape discovered, that he had ever resided
within the sanctity of Holy Church, been one of Her honored
servants, near past belief of the most credulously inclined.

He turned suddenly with, "You a priest?" and Peche
nodded in gloomy manner.

" Yes, my Captain, more shame to me, that I did not con-
tinue fit for so high office," he said, stumbling over his words,
to add eagerly, " Many confessions have I heard from lips long
closed, to ears as securely sealed, as though they too were life-
less. Scoundrel, as you call me, I would not dare break the
oath of the seal of confession." And he almost whispered the
latter end of his sentence.

Again the other stood amazed. Astonished at such strange
composition of vice and virtue. " You are an unhung scoun-
drel," he said, after a long silence, and Peche saluted as though
the title was an honor. " 'Twas you that robbed a Missassaga

THE R6LE OF HISTORIAN 253

woman of her child, I think. Demanded ten beaver skins for
its return."

" The woman lied," came the sullen mutter. " She de-
famed me because I would not marry her."

" That will do," the young officer said abruptly. Though
the man had contributed some welcome information, he dis-
covered a sickening sense of nausea attack his stomach at the
near contact of such a degraded wretch. " That will do," he
added contemptuously. " You have kept silence so long, see
that secrecy does not become burdensome. I may have need
of you — later. There may be a vacancy." And Peche
grinned, well pleased.

" How came you to serve New France? " he heard asked in
a voice that hesitated, ashamed of curiosity.

" I had a wife, my Captain," he stammered, the grin gone.
" I have her yet, for aught I know to the contrary. She was
too good for me." Here he passed a grimy hand across his
forehead as if seeking to erase remembrance, continuing in a
shaking voice : " Too good for me. We had a boy. I let her
go without a word for his sake. Joined the ranks for the
bounty granted to soldiers serving a continuous term of ten
years. I should have received three hundred francs some three
years gone. My time was up. But they robbed me. Robbed
me, my Captain, after ten long weary years. That money, that
should have gone to him — my little son, they stole from him
to make restitution for a father's theft. He is dead — now."

He clasped his hands as he ended, his eyes glaring red. And
his auditor gasped. What next he thought? Sentiment in a
moral cesspool! Wonder of wonders. Affection alive in a
heart desiring to cut short a relation's life. Here was a prob-
lem in man too hard to solve at one reading. Villainy of any
kind offering reward would buy him body and soul, yet a few
words administered by another mortal would seal his lips to
secrecy forever.

" That will do," the young man said sternly. " Drive the
work forward," and with that abruptly turned away. He had
heard enough revolting confession to last him for a lifetime.
He shuddered as he slowly walked across the stockade.

Peche left to himself quickly recovered his usual surly man-
ner. Exultation was prominent in his mind. Possibly he
might succeed his hated sergeant. He had good cause to hate,

354 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

he thought. When he had received a public flogging, a willing
hand wielded the stinging lash. Sergeant Pere — not sergeant
then, but a common soldier in the ranks — had spared none of
the weight of a most heavy hand on the back of a doubly damned
criminal, convicted of sacrilege and theft. Perhaps the well-
deserved lashes had been laid on more in the interests of the
military arm of the service, whose devotees suffered worse than
the Church, by the destruction of a mission. Creature com-
forts were supplied to soldiers at such places by the kind priests.
Attention given to painful wounds at their ready hands, and
Sergeant Pere in his younger days was devoted to his company.
They would be losers by a burnt mission, and New France lose
also by lack of their well being. For the old man in those
earlier days had loved his country. The regard now some-
what soiled by lack of appreciation, and his slight rank as ser-
geant of foot, detailed for outpost duty with a handful of raw
recruits, who were in appearance and training the extreme op-
posite of the smart veterans in whose ranks he once numbered
a unit.

But Peche was cursed with a good memory. He burned to
repay every single smarting blow. For years he had seen no
way to come at vengeance. But he nursed desire in hope of one
day accomplishing revenge. The moment had come, he thought
gleefully. He would work ! Name of Heaven, how he would
work to secure an officer's appreciation. That day he sweated
himself, and every man under his command. Toiling strenu-
ously, sparing none, not even his own lazy bones, he accom-
plished more than the much talked of Sergeant Pere, his an-
cient enemy had ever done. For revenge is a stimulant to exer-
tion, unequaled even by ambition, to support a man to a much-
desired end.

Captain de Celeron, pacing the sand at the extreme end of
the stockade, turned over in mind how he could best use his
information. He was more than disgusted at the relator, but
the relation might assist his passion. Try how he would, he
could not forget a fair face whose every feature roused mad-
dening desire. " She shall be mine," he muttered. " The mo-
ment those two old women have departed, I will to her at once.
The lean one will go readily, the other — I will see what he
has to say. When he knows of a long lost brother he too may
come to my side. He is villain enough for any crime. I will

THE ROLE OF HISTORIAN 255

prove Peche at once." Almost running, he hurried across the
sandy inclosure, mounted the steps of the storehouse and dis-
appeared within.

Had he and his corporal but cast an eye down outside the
points behind whose shelter a tale had been told, they would
have observed one crouching, paralyzed with astonishment.
Even after the pair moved off he remained, his scarred features
working with an inward emotion hard to name. ' 'Twas well
I passed this way," he muttered. " Name of a fish, but was
there ever such a pair of beauties? De Celeron is damned be-
yond doubt, if he consort with such a rogue as Peche. And I
nursed him! Phut! if I had known what he was like to turn
out, I would have found a stray bullet and thrown it at his
back. As for the other." Here a sour smile came to his lips;
a snarl escaped them angrily. " Name of a fish, but I will
put him through a sea of trouble, ere he reach my stripes, the
cur." Suddenly he recovered his wits. A plan came to his
mind. And he ran to enter the Fort. " Thousand devils,"
he snarled, " I lashed him nigh to death once. The next oc-
casion I will skin him alive and tan his filthy hide to a rope
that shall hang his carcass high as yonder oak." He carefully
avoided observation as he entered the gateway. If such a thing
could be said of so brave a soldier, he actually sneaked his way
round to the back door of the storehouse, so eager he was to
escape notice of his young commander.

When that gentleman entered the gloomy trading room, he
was waylaid by Brother Alonzo, who with a gracious smile
at once commenced to speak of the necessity of his immediate
departure. " I trust the difficulty of my escort will be a thing
of the past? I observe many men about the Fort." And the
young man, impatient though he was to at once interview a
secretary, composed himself to pay attention to the needs of
a lean doctor.

" I may not spare soldiers, reverend sir," he said, " but an
escort of trusty Indians I think may be furnished." And the
benevolent priest smiled his pleasure.

" That is well," he replied. " Ambrose will remain for a
short while. He is indisposed — has not recovered from his
fright of the past week. He is to interview the prisoner^ I
understand. I trust the poor young man will not be dealt with
too harshly?"

256 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

" He is a spy," jerked out the other shortly. " He must
suffer the penalty for that offense."

" Of course he has been examined ? Permitted to write an
explanation of his presence here."

" He is a most contumacious dog, your reverence. He is
English—"

" But a brave lad for even that unfortunate occurrence,"
was the gentle interruption. " Would it not be as well to
wait? I may plead with my master — possibly he may see fit
to change his hasty mind. I think the young maid would
grieve sorely should aught happen to her — well, we call
him — her very dear friend."

Captain de Celeron jumped to his feet, wrath blazing in
his eyes. His lips tightly clenched to prevent language hardly
fitting the ears of reverend men. " The ancient fool," he
thought. "Is he in league against me? He cannot depart
too soon. I will provide him an escort, one that will be in
no hurry to arrive with their passenger, that is — if they ever
do." Aloud he replied calmly, " Mademoiselle McLeod would
surely hesitate ere she reposed confidence in a complete stranger,
an enemy of her country, a spy." And suddenly Brother
Alonzo, immersed in science, experienced a touch of doubt as
to the wisdom of his departure. He was not a reader of men
like his master, but the flushed face, the twitching features of
his companion, aroused a sensation of uneasiness in his gentle,
unsuspicious mind.

" My son," he said slowly, " haste goes with youth, age
walks more at ease. But surely, young though you be, it has
come to your knowledge that women are ignorant of nationality
when love blinds their willing eyes. Mademoiselle McLeod,
I assure you — if you will pretend ignorance of her affair —
loves this young man. This — of course, in confidence."

Captain de Celeron discovered immediate desire of vengeance
choke his free speech. Thickly he muttered, " The fellow is
a spy — he will be soon forgotten by a loyal lady of New
France." And again the spare doctor smiled very gently.

" My dear son," he said softly, " you have my sympathy."
Then with a touch of authority, he said distinctly, " I trust
you will not allow personal inclination to interfere with duty.
My master, the Abbe, was a trifle hasty in his decision. I re-
peat this with due respect. He had much to worry him. But

THE ROLE OF HISTORIAN 257

I beg you to remember his order, that Ambrose hold some
speech with this poor fellow you term spy who, I am sure, de-
serves a better fate than you propose for his body."

Captain de Celeron went first red, then white with sup-
pressed rage. For a moment he hesitated. Bowing low, in
a most sarcastic manner, he said, " I have your master's com-
mand to execute this fellow — "

" You have, young sir," Brother Alonzo interrupted calmly.
" You have, but you also have my caution not to be too hasty,
and also my master's command that his secretary take plenty
of time to discover aught the prisoner may know of the
British movements. I do not think myself he is aware of
what one of their soldiers is doing. But that is beside the
question. He is a fine young fellow, that I do know. Now,
enough of such unpleasant matters. I understand you will do
only as duty suggests, and the honor of a French gentleman
will be quick to obey. Again, when may I depart? "

The young man savaged his lips until red drops tasted salt
to his palate. Mastering emotion, he answered with a smile,
" When you will, reverend sir." And again the doctor had
doubts.

" Ah," he said, " then I will acquaint the maid. She will
no doubt have many preparations to make for so difficult a
journey."

"A journey! Mademoiselle McLeod," stammered the
other. " Do I understand aright ? Does the lady think to
go with you, revered sir ? "

" That is the reason soldiers would be best for the escort.
'Tis tempting Providence to send Indians with a white woman."

Captain de Celeron staggered back a pace, his face pale with
discomfiture. "Think, I beseech you," he said rapidly.
" Pause ere you burden yourself with a woman on such a ven-
ture. The Iroquois, the English, are everywhere abroad. I
say the lady shall not undertake this madness." Such a
proposition was indeed a setback to half-formed plans. He
scattered the sweat from a damp forehead, while the doctor
stared at his emotion.

The learned man began to understand the meaning of many
puzzles placed for his unraveling. Ambrose had not been
backward in voicing an extreme dislike of so autocratic an
officer. Also a very rude treatment had received lengthy ex-

258 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

planation. Such statements had received smiling toleration
from a man immersed in science. Now the priest, the observ-
ant student of human nature, suddenly came to the surface to
be somewhat alarmed for the safety of those he was forced to
leave behind.

" You seem distressed, young sir," he said mildly. " The
departure of the lady displeases you?"

" I confess to being shaken by such news," the other began,
wiping his face hurriedly. " But of course, now the danger
is known to you, she will remain. And besides, I, as military
commander here, absolute — forbid so dangerous a journey."

" You will hardly forbid my going, young sir ? "

" You must do as best pleases you, reverend sir," the other
said smoothly. He began to see a way out of his difficulty.
" You are beyond my control. Mademoiselle is named on
the roster of Fort Toronto. I, as officer commanding, responsi-
ble for her safety. Of course, I cannot permit her to incur
danger."

" I understand," came the quiet answer. " You seek to
detain the lady at your side. But I warn you, even military
authority cannot, and shall not in this case, override the com-
mand of a parent."

Captain de Celeron began to see his desire fast fading from
sight. For a moment he stood silent. Then he said gravely,
" Reverend sir, you as priest must recognize that military care
for the subject is higher than all parental authority within
New France. You must know that."

The spare doctor frowned. Such obstinacy was new to him.
He was about to voice his anger, declare the girl should im-
mediately go with him, when a soft touch fell on his arm, and
he turned to come face to face with the object of his anxiety.
" Ah, my daughter," he said pleasantly. " Are you prepared ?
I am informed an escort is shortly to be placed at my disposal."

" I thank you," she said quietly, " but departure at present
is out of the question." And the young man smiled, but the
doctor asked anxiously, though he knew his answer —

I'Why, my child? Why?"

" My father, first ; the two wounded ones, secondly ; the — "
here she blushed rosily, continuing hastily, " I could not leave
Rose of the Hills without a woman's care."

Brother Alonzo frowned. In his heart he admitted the

THE ROLE OF HISTORIAN 259

necessity, but dreaded the danger to her he had grown to
love. " You are brave, my daughter," he said, in a shaking
voice. " Very brave."

" I fail to see why," she answered with a merry laugh. " I
have lived for years in safety here. My father has always pro-
tected me. Sergeant Pere, since he came, has been more than
kind. With these two I fear nothing. Why should I ? "

The doctor had no answer to such arguments. He was so
busily engaged observing the features of the girl he feared to
leave behind, that the brief shadow of resentment, flickering the
features of Captain de Celeron when his name had been passed
over without mention, escaped observation. But whatever the
cause of his emotion, his voice was exceeding smooth as with a
low bow he spoke.

" Mademoiselle is wise in my poor opinion," he said quietly.
And Brother Alonzo discovered the sin of unreasoning dislike
harbored a place within his kind old breast. " There is some
danger here of course, but much more without the shelter of the
walls, I have the honor to command."

" That may be," came the acid answer, conveying much
meaning to one listener, " but I suspect a danger within that
more than equals that without." And the young man flushed
red as the sunrise before a storm. He knew his companion
understood his motive.

" I trust your reverence comes safely to the end of your
journey," he said respectfully. " I will immediately see to the
escort." He turned, walking jauntily off. The girl stayed,
and that was the principal thing. All he cared for at the
moment. " Priests ! " he sneered. " Men in petticoats who
fear pleasure. Fools, rather, who may not pleasure them-
selves and would deny enjoyment to others. Fools!" And
he whistled as he moved. Thoughts of the near future were
sweet indeed.

The moment his back was out of sight, Madeline said
anxiously, " You will not go. What will the two wounded
ones do without your attention ? " And the old man smiled.

" Witch," he said, "would you tempt me from duty?
Good nursing, a woman's care, are better than all the drugs in
this wide world. Hum! Yes! Hippocrates himself, were
he here, dare not deny that statement."

" The prisoner — Francis — he will sorely miss you, rev-

260 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

erend sir."

" He will, my child. He will." Then anxiously, " You
love him? Ah! I see for myself. Well, a word of caution
to you. Beware this young officer; he, too, would solace him-
self with your charms. I like not his open anxiety to have you
remain."

" I know he professes attachment toward me," the girl
said bravely. " My father is also aware of the fact. But no
harm may come to me, while two such men as Norman Mc-
Leod and Sergeant Pere remain alive."

" I trust not, my child, but I think 'twere better that you
come with me."

" I will not leave my father," came the proud reply. " He
is all I have."

" I wish that were a truth, child," came the anxious inter-
jection. " Do you forget the man in prison ? " And the priest
was startled by the gasping of a girl, gone white to the lips.

" He will not be harmed ? " she whispered. " He is not a
spy. You must know that. You have authority here. Can
save him — if you will."

" My authority is naught, child. I have but this moment
spoken of him, to the Captain of this place. Cautioned him
to proceed slowly, where the young man is concerned. But he
will have none of my counsel. I must speak to Ambrose.
Warn him of how matters stand. That much I may do, noth-
ing more at present. When I reach my master, the Abbe, I
will plead with him for your sake. More I cannot do. Be
brave, my daughter. I must prepare." He moved off, mut-
tering a prayer, the tears very near his kindly eyes. He fore-
saw much sorrow lying in the road that a slender pair of feet
must tread, and being after all a man, he pitied the woman.

Madeline watched his figure disappear. Then she sank to
the top step, absolutely powerless to stand. During the last
few days of intimate communion with a lover, under the safe
protection of a kindly priest and doctor, she had near forgotten
the shadow of death brooding close over that loved one's head.
The last words of the priest roused a sudden fear in her heart.
An aching bosom suddenly became conscious of what existence
would mean robbed of the presence of Francis Birnon. " I
must save him," she moaned. " Ambrose must protect him.
There is naught on earth too dear for sacrifice, if he go free."

THE ROLE OF HISTORIAN 261

Then she rose, hurriedly crossed the busy storehouse, to knock
sharply on the door behind whose closed panels lay a man, him-
self in fear of death, by reason of a torturing pang at his left
side. A body pain resulting from excitement caused by mun-
dane fear, of a common, ordinary, everyday cow.

CHAPTER XXIV

HOW A PRIEST DEPARTED FROM FORT TORONTO, AND WHY A
STOREKEEPER DETERMINED TO FOLLOW

SERGEANT PERE, creeping round to the back of the
storehouse, avoiding observant eyes, came to a window
thrown wide to admit the vagrom breezes of a warm Septem-
ber day. Cautiously he peeped within the room, venturing a
warning " hist ! " to Ambrose stretched full length on the skin
couch. Several times did he repeat his signal, until the secre-
tary with a stare of alarm roused his rotund weight and came
slowly to the casement.

"What is it, good soldier?" he asked. "I am ill — some
other occasion best befits your visit." But the old soldier hur-
riedly clambered in, seized a fat arm, to the owner's great and
visible alarm.

" I bring you news," he whispered. " Bad news. Are you
alone? I must see you for five minutes. Ere Captain de
Celeron come. I must," he added sharply, and again the sec-
retary stared.

"What is it causes you act in so strange a manner?" he
gasped, excitement causing his chest to heave. "What is it?
I am ill — not recovered from a — a grievous sickness."

" Were you at Three Rivers ? " came the unexpected ques-
tion, and a frown chased across fat features as another rapid
query followed the first. " While the mission burned ? "

Ambrose gasped. For a moment he appeared about to run
but a firm grasp detained his attempt, and thinking flight to be
useless, answered somewhat indignantly, " I was — I was —
but why this sudden anxiety to know of my former where-
abouts?" Pointing to his cassock, "I like not undue famili-
arity, my good man." And the other released his hold, per-
mitting the shaking, fat figure to totter to a welcome couch.

Sergeant Pere waited while Ambrose mopped his face with
a large clean cloth. Then he came close. Whispered slowly,
" 1 will explain, Monsieur Secretary, or rather, I will — an

262

HOW A PRIEST DEPARTED FROM FORT TORONTO 263

you will listen — relate some news I overheard. It concerns
you _ You!"

Ambrose, with distended eyeballs, groaned. Commenced to
relate in dolorous tones of inhumanity, practiced upon a sick
man. But his companion, a mountain of troubles on his own
head, the fear of a sudden intrusion constantly in mind, waived
the mumbled sentences away. His face taking on such serious
aspect that Ambrose involuntarily paused in the middle of his
groanings. " I am not — not in condition to hear you, my
good soldier," he said. " I am far from well. Brother
Alonzo warns me of excitement. I am nervous, unstrung,
I—"

" You had best compose your wits. You are like to need
them," came the dry rejoinder.

After an interval given up to a continuous muttering, the
secretary stammered painfully — and even Sergeant Pere dis-
cerned his groanings had some cause — " I will — if — if I
must, but I pray you be brief — brief."

" Then, Monsieur Secretary, I overheard a tale intended
for other ears. A tale of sacrilege and theft related by a sol-
dier of this place — one — I pray you compose yourself — one
seeking to do you grievous bodily harm." The other stared
wide-eyed, and the relater of confidential utterances almost be-
lieved that confidence a lie. Then the thought his companion
pretended ignorance flashed across his hardened brain. With-
out further hesitation he said harshly, " Did you assist at the
robbery and burning of a mission ? "

Ambrose started to his feet, intense indignation portrayed
on every feature. " Soldier," he answered, " you seek to insult
me. Go! I will not bandy words with such as you." And
once again doubt of Peche filled the mind of Pere.

1 'Tis well to deny such horrid crime," he said slowly, for
he had no remembrance of such a clerk at Three Rivers, " but
at least hear my tale. The man may but have added one more
spot to his filthy soul. I know him for a liar. At least hear
me, I mean no harm — come but to warn you of what may
happen, and you unprepared."

Ambrose gasped. Stared, as though he thought his com-
panion mad. " You speak in riddles," he stammered pain-
fully. "Danger here! Tome? At whose hands ?" Then
he shook his head wearily, sinking its heavy weight on a pair

264 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

of shaking arms.

" The one telling the history I know well to be an arrant
scoundrel," Sergeant Pere replied quickly. " The man who
listened — though he is my superior officer — over ready to
believe; but for all that, they mean you harm. They do," he
repeated seriously, as the other gasped. " Listen — you shall
judge for yourself. The tale is short, and there is little time
to waste."

With a cautious listening at the door to assure himself none
overheard, he tersely stated his news. As the words fell from
his lips, he watched with keen eyes every expression on the face
of a man who betrayed fear, remorse, anger, by turns. As he
came to that part of the narrative where a corporal claimed
relationship with a clerk, spoke of their mother, Ambrose ut-
tered a fearful groan.

' 'Tis true," he muttered hoarsely. " Too true, if he be
what he says he is. True he was a priest — attempted rob-
bery of the mission he guarded. True, indeed, I listened to
his tempter's voice, only to dissuade him from an unholy crime.
The Abbe knows all — he knows. I confessed. Received ab-
solution at his hands, was forgiven, and made his trusted secre-
tary. Soldier," he added passionately, " I am but mortal. I
have sinned, but have striven to repent." Then he gasped,
suddenly fell forward on the floor, sprawling grotesquely ; a
mountain of fleshly agony.

The old soldier attempted to restore his body to the couch
but was unable to accomplish the kindly intent. Suddenly the
door of the room opened, closed silently, and Brother Alonzo
appeared, his lean features frowning as he crossed the floor to
make a hasty medical examination. " I warned him," he mut-
tered. " He has a trouble of the heart, good soldier. Serious
trouble," he added gravely. Then motioned for assistance to
place the senseless man in a comfortable position.

" Had I known, I would have taken more care," Sergeant
Pere commenced hurriedly. Active as he was in wounding
his enemy on the field of battle, he knew little how to treat
such wounds when not on the surface of the bodies he wounded.
" Had I known," he repeated seriously, " I would have been
more cautious. I but came to warn him of a danger — had
little time to choose words."

" I overheard," the doctor answered. " 'Tis a wretched

HOW A PRIEST DEPARTED FROM FORT TORONTO 265

tale of misdoing, and I fear the poor fellow will pay heavily
for his share in the matter. I knew of it," he added in reply
to a surprised stare. " Oh, yes, the Abbe confided in me many
months past. Now, find the maid. I must instruct her as to
treatment. There is little to be done, save quiet and good
nursing — should he revive."

The door again quietly opened, and a girl entered white-
faced, breathless, speechless with amazement at the scene.
Sergeant Pere ran to her side, bolted the door, then whispered
to her of the sudden illness of the man she came to seek.

For a moment womanly weakness held her silent. Utter
helplessness rushed in, a stormy sea, overpowering movement.
Thoughts that the only man in the world standing between
life and death of a loved one — was helpless, near death him-
self— caused her to sway as though faint. The doctor was
quick to note the agitation of her mind. In an abrupt man-
ner, sharp spoken, he said almost angrily —

' 'Tis no time for weakness, silly one. If you would save
the life of a man you profess to love, render some assistance.
Some strong spirit. Quick! Procure a, quantity, at once."

Bravely conquering the swimming nausea of a disordered
mind, Madeline hurried from the room, and Sergeant Pere
permitted a smile to rise to grim lips. " Reverend sir," he
said, " 'twas in the nick of time, such anger." And the other
shook his head.

" I was not angered, good soldier," he replied quickly, bend-
ing over his patient. " I have observed that all women are
best without sympathy in time of danger to those they love.
Had I pitied her — there would have been another sick one
to care for, and I have enough on hand as 'tis."

Madeline entered, composed, but white as snow, with a
bottle containing rum. For several silent minutes, the doctor
was too busily occupied, forcing open the lips of the secretary,
to pay her the slightest attention. After he had succeeded in
making his patient swallow a few tiny drops, his lean fingers
searched for a pulse, that had well nigh ceased its troubled
beating. When a faint movement came to his touch, he spoke,
his tone grave, as one who fears much but tries to hide an
evident fact.

" Slow — exceeding slow and weak," he said. " He will
come to, but he must be careful. One other such attack — "

366 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

He ended with a quick glance at the two, allowing them to
complete the sentence for themselves.

"He will die?" Madeline asked in a whisper. "And
Francis?"

" All men are born but to that end, my daughter," he said
kindly. "But your sweetheart is safe for the moment. My
master's orders were that his secretary should interview a pris-
oner, and while he lives not a man shall interfere."

Madeline fell on her knees, while the glittering drops
trickled between shaking ringers. She began to see the inter-
vening of a most wonderful God; through one man's illness
came safety for another, and that man might recover. Her
lover escape death until a doctor could reason with an auto-
cratic, hasty, but always kindly disposed authority.

" You will not depart now, reverend sir? " she asked, swiftly
rising.

The benevolent priest smiled, but shook his head. " I
must," he said. " My master needs my services, even more
than his stricken secretary. He journeys toward the seat of
battle — may need me, besides," with a sweet smile, " how
will that prisoner fare, do I remain? I will leave with you
instructions for the care of three sick ones, and I think you
will find few moments for tears."

" I will try to be brave," the girl said quickly. " Nay, I
will be. I am ashamed of weeping. Time alone will tell if
happiness is to be mine with one I love. I dare not waste
the moments in bemoaning a present when the future is yet to
be known. Your blessing, father."

Brother Alonzo raised both arms to a full extent. In a
voice that wavered slightly with emotion, he implored aid from
that One, never far from the afflicted and sore distressed. And
Sergeant Pere, silent for once, turned hastily away, coughing,
to hide the tears in eyes that would water, despite their
owner's dry soul. " Name of a fish," he muttered, " but he
will have me preacher in place of soldier, does he stay much
the longer." And there was no faintest trace of envy in his
voice. To his intense surprise, he discovered a sense of un-
worthiness spring up in a self-complacent breast, as on his ears
fell the kindly tones of a priest he almost disliked for coming
between an old soldier and his little maid. Seriously he began
to think the other much the better man of the two.

HOW A PRIEST DEPARTED FROM FORT TORONTO 267

Then Madeline came to his side with Brother Alonzo,
whose hand she grasped, and they three moved to the window.
Each silent, each lost in thought, one fearing for a lover, the
other two for a maid.

The ringing strokes of keen axes fell on their ears, accom-
panied by loud shouts of sturdy men wielding gleaming steel.
The drone of a few belated summer insects filled the air; a
pine-scented breeze stirred the leaves of the adjacent forest to
dreams of a flown season of delight. In the distance, soothing
melody of soft waters breaking on a sandy shore added music
to a peaceful harmonious scene. Trouble, at the moment,
seemed leagues distant from Fort Toronto.

A deep sigh escaped the lips of the girl, immediately noted
by her companions. The lean form of the doctor bent close,
as he asked anxiously, " Have you thought better on staying?
'Tis not too late. I will do my best to insure safety, hazard-
ous though such journey be."

" I could not leave, reverend sir," she answered quietly.
" I should be unhappy away. I trust to you — know that
when you come to His Reverence the Abbe you will plead
for the life of the man I love. I must remain here, try to be
content. Nay," she added with determined air, " I will be
so. With my father and Sergeant Pere for protection what
harm may come?" Then she smiled affectionately on the old
soldier at her side, who returned her glance with such ardent
passion in his bleared old eyes, the doctor found difficulty in re-
pressing a smile.

" Were this good sergeant, say, some twenty years the
younger," he said somewhat dryly, " the lover might hold
some jealousy 'gainst his ardor." And the old man, flushing
a violent red, vainly endeavoring to repress a touch of bitter-
ness in his voice, answered very slow:

" Reverence," he said, mastering the desire to overwhelm
the other with an avalanche of sarcasm, " I am an old dog.
One grown thin in the service of the King of France. He
will not miss the affection I bear this maid. 'Tis true I love
her. Why not? I am not ashamed of that fact. And were
I as you say, some twenty years the younger, I might not make
so bold, that is in public — in private — well it may not be
and that ends it. As 'tis, my age brings compensation. I
speak before the world. Am satisfied with my position — an

268 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

elderly lover — who would cheerfully lay down the last years
of a wasted life to save her little ringer harm."

The girl turned swiftly to kiss him on the lips. Deep in
her heart she knew — and what woman does not, who is truly
loved — the strength and purity of the flame burning in the
bosom of her slave. And she silently acknowledged to her-
self that had he been even ten years the younger of his seventy
odd full summers and lean winters, Francis Birnon, young and
handsome as he was, might have discovered a husband seated
securely on the throne of wifely affection. His youthful pas-
sion arrived too late, for the wife of an old soldier to honorably
acknowledge.

" If Sergeant Pere were younger," she said at last, to cover
a most embarrassing silence, " you would not so plainly ob-
serve our love for each other."

The doctor was quick to note the anger of his male com-
panion. Offering an outstretched hand, he said eagerly,
" Good Sergeant, I pray pardon for a most untimely jest. I
am much older than you. With all my apparent skill in medi-
cine, I could not hope to rival your wisdom and learning in the
art of warfare. I trust to be forgiven," he added anxiously.
And the other, tickled by open admittance of his ability, which
was exactly what the spare man desired, returned with some
reluctance a most hearty hand-grip.

" Reverence," he replied, a wintry smile melting glacial
features to some warmth, " two ancients may not differ, where
a mutual object of affection is concerned. I perceive we both
hold some fondness for this saucy tease. Let us forget vain
words." Then, as if wishing to change the subject, " When
do you think to leave us? " And the doctor knew he was not
wholly forgiven. With a heavy sigh, he answered slowly —

" To-day. I have tarried overlong as 'tis. Captain de
Celeron is even now occupied with preparations for my going.
I leave at once." And as his companion smiled a deep satis-
faction, he was about to speak further of those left behind,
that even now it would be best that the girl accompany him,
a low moan fell on his ears.

Ambrose, gasping on the couch, had evidently overheard.
" Leave me not here," he panted. " Brother, I implore you,
do not leave me to the mercy of a most desperate man." Then
he fell back on the couch, the tears streaming down pasty-

HOW A PRIEST DEPARTED FROM FORT TORONTO 269

white cheeks, and Madeline experienced a sense of dislike
directed at such apparent, glaring cowardice.

Sergeant Pere moved to the window to hide his disgust.
The doctor, better versed in the ways of man, walked over to
the couch. Laying a gentle hand on the forehead of his
patient, he said gravely, " Brother, you could not venture with
me. Take heed to what I say, an you compose not your mind,
you will set out on a much longer journey. One you must
take alone; one from which there is no hope of return in the
flesh. I have cautioned you before — be exceeding careful of
what you do."

Suddenly the secretary scrambled to his feet, tottered across
the floor. " I will go," he gasped. " I am ready — ready — "
Then he fell heavily forward headlong, and Madeline, with
her slave, both thought him dead.

" Quick ! the spirit, my child," Brother Alonzo said, and as
he hurriedly administered attention, while the minutes hastened
on, a chill air stole into the room, as though Azrael hovered
nigh to release an erring soul. " He breathes," he said with
relief. " That is all. I could not do more, did I stay with
him night and day. His irritable condition arises from the
nature of the disease. Now, ere he recover and set eyes on
me — which may cause another and more brief attack — I
must be gone." As the girl shook her head in doubt, " All
my skill and drugs could not lengthen his days, daughter.
Quietness, rest, is his only hope. Those elements you may
procure for him, as well as I — nay better, an you will. Fare-
well, my child. God's blessing on you — and you, good sol-
dier, do you care to receive such at my unworthy hands?
Farewell, I must to my master, and — I will not forget the
young man."

" And the others, reverend sir ? " she gasped, white to the
lips.

" Follow the directions I gave you to-day. The Indian
will be soon better, the maid — I doubt if she ever recovers
good health. As for the prisoner — " Here Brother Alonzo
hesitated. The eyes of the girl were swimming in tears.
Dumb with grief, she could but mutely ask his earnest assist-
ance. " Trust me, child, I will do all that a mere mortal
may. And now to seek the officer who commands."

He hurried away, fearing to remain lest his determination

270 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

to depart should melt at the speechless appeal in the eyes of a
maid he had grown to love. In his heart he had little hope
of changing the decision of the Abbe. The British had al-
ways been a bunch of thorns in the side of that gentleman.
The removal of one irritating prick, a stern necessity to the
welfare of New France. And, perhaps, a slight recompense
for the many reverses suffered by that august mistress.

Sergeant Pere followed close on the heels of the doctor.
Madeline, left to herself, gave up her mind to thought the
most gloomy. Then she fell on her knees to pray. Besought
a merciful Creator for the recovery of the sick man, whose
lengthened days would bring safety to a lover. Implored the
Blessed Saints to intervene to spare a father, that he might
enjoy a home with the man whose hours she desired to be
given to her keeping, in a longed-for, happy wedded life.

How long she remained in silent communion with the Maker
of all things earthly, her brain had no idea. The sinking sun
reddened the western sky to a riot of gorgeous color. The
sounds of labor had long ceased a not unmusical clamor. But
the voices of the night winds sighing round the open casement
came to disturb the current of troubled thought. Then, sud-
denly, silently, the door opened. With a half turn of her
graceful head her soft glance fell on the figure of the man she
prayed for. In one moment his arms received a clinging form.

"Francis! Francis!" she cried, holding him close as
though to shelter his needy body. "Francis!" Just little
half inarticulate murmurs of delight, and the sounds thrilled
the young man to the core of his being.

Dumb he was, unable to soothe a passionate storm of weep-
ing. Only by tender touches of one hand on a smooth fore-
head, the pressure of a strong arm about a slender waist, was
he able to show his sympathy and his understanding of her
need. And as they stood at the wide casement, in a flood of
moonlight cast by a silver orb swinging high in a cloudless sky,
those gentle caresses stilled the weeping, soothed the sorrow
of a girl whose very life was bound up with the man who gave
them.

" Dear one," she whispered softly, after a long pause, " Am-
brose has been seized of a sudden sickness. The doctor says,
he — he may die." As the young fellow nodded very
gravely to show his understanding of the frail hold he had on

HOW A PRIEST DEPARTED FROM FORT TORONTO 271

life. "You know your fate, if he does — does die?" And
again a pressure followed, as the lover pointed upward. " Oh,
yes, yes," she cried, "I know; but 'tis here on earth I need
you. Here ! " And again she fell to unrestrained sobbing,
whispering, " You are so young, so young to die such dread-
ful death."

She clung the tighter to his ragged buckskin-covered shoul-
der, as if in fear the next jealous moment would seize a new-
found treasure. And for many silent minutes — minutes that
lengthened to hours — the two remained wrapped in an em-
brace of purest passion. Ambrose, the weakened link, for-
gotten for the time, though his life was the one weak binding,
holding them together on earth.

Without the storehouse, Captain de Celeron had lost little
time in obtaining a canoe, less in securing six trusty Missas-
sagas to propel its birch shapeliness. He stood with the doctor,
the storekeeper and his sub at the landing-place, his features
smoothed to a sweet smile.

" You are determined to proceed, your reverence? " he asked
courteously. And the patient Alonzo, could hardly restrain
a frown.

" I am," he answered quickly. " And one word ere I leave,
Captain de Celeron, Ambrose is ill — not in condition to be
disturbed — not even to hurry the execution of your rival.
And once for all, understand me," as the other bit his lip
savagely ; " I know your attention to mademoiselle is distaste-
ful. Now I take this good storekeeper, and this Sergeant to
witness my instructions, as spoken. Leave well alone." Then
he turned to McLeod, asking information of the way he pro-
posed to travel, and the young officer knew bitterness of
thought.

" The cursed meddler," he muttered. " The fat one may do
little harm. As for the storekeeper and that thin fool of mine,
I will bring them both to heel or know the reason why not."

" Farewell, young sir," he heard a voice say at his elbow,
and he bowed what he trusted to be a last adieu to the speaker.
" Farewell, Monsieur Storekeeper, and you good soldier. Be
careful of the maid." Then with a final grasping of hands the
kind old doctor priest stepped into the frail craft, and as the
paddles propelled him into the darkness, his voice floated back
to shore, " Remember, my son, the arm of Holy Church is long,

272 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

and very, very sure." Then the blackness swallowed the
voyagers in a ghost-like haze creeping up from shadow land.

Captain de Celeron turned suddenly on Sergeant Pere with,
" Is it the custom for you to absent yourself without leave ? "

" A man must do as he is ordered," came the respectful an-
swer. " 'Twas inspection day. You, as commander of this
place, know well I ventured my neck in the leaving of the
prisoner, when duty called."

"You arc ready witted," snapped the young man; he had
half forgotten his order that the spy be guarded. " Musty
parchments, with a quill, would make of you a crafty lawyer."
And his sub colored at the sneer directed toward a lack of
learning.

" I but obey orders," he answered quietly. " I may not
read, as you are aware, but my record is written for all the
world to see, though 'tis true enough, I am unable to make
out its spelling. I have little desire to be a scholar, my one
hope to complete in the service of New France, a register of
blameless conduct."

" See that you walk more carefully in the future, my man,"
rapped out the other. " Your conduct of late has been the re-
verse of satisfactory. Mark well what I say, or I will strip
the rank you hold, place another in authority. To the Fort.
In the morning take command of the working parties. I have
other, more trusted men to guard a spy."

Without a word the old man moved off. The storekeeper
received some of the hate his actions roused in the mind of a
hasty undisciplined officer. " Remember the offense hanging
over your head," he said. " I have not forgotten, though you
seem to think so. The spy is in your care. Corporal Peche
will assist in the storehouse until further orders. The two
savages lying there will at break of day be dispatched to the
encampment of their tribe. The secretary is ill, I am in-
formed, see that your daughter wait on his wants and they
only — you understand."

Abruptly he strode off, leaving McLeod to pace the silent
sand, his mind filled with thought of immediate escape. Pon-
dering what must be the end of present affairs; regretting
Madeline had not gone with Brother Alonzo, to some measure
of safety. Last of all, wondering if Fort Toronto would see
the burial of his tired bones, and what would be the fate of a

HOW A PRIEST DEPARTED FROM FORT TORONTO 273

daughter robbed of an only protector.

" I must to the old one," he muttered at last. " We must
get together — plan some way of escape. 'Tis desertion for
him, worse for me, the leaving here without orders. The In-
tendant will flay me alive, do I leave his stores to the mercy of
the first raw trader taking my place. As for him, the old one,
they will hang him higher than Haman." Then again he
commenced his tramping. Suddenly he stood at the lake edge,
flung both arms out wide. " Curse New France, the Intend-
ant and this boy commander. I will go in spite of them all.
This is my reward for years of faithful service."

The sudden determination soothed his mind; the spoken
words relieved something of the tension at his heart. Sharply
he turned, and as his sturdy form faded into the shadowed
stockade walls, a figure rose from behind a pile of logs.

" What news for my little officer," he chuckled, lighting an
evil smelling pipe, through whose rank stem he inhaled ranker
fumes of tobacco. " Pere follows McLeod, Peche rises.
What a chance for a corporal! I know baby face desires the
girl, and once her father lies covered by a few feet of earth —
well, the less said on that the better. She will say enough.
This old fool, an he deserts, will suffer the tortures of the
damned. I know him. Once he is out of the way, then I
step in, and my officer may find enough to do in the handling
of some fine men I know of. The girl! Ah, what a lucky
dog you will be, Peche ! "

Long and loud the man laughed, his eyes gleaming with the
mere idea of what he might do in the future. His merriment,
the snarl of a wolf, as he sat gloating. He, an unfrocked
priest, a desperate though cowardly scoundrel, a would-be
traitor to the man seeking to make a tool of his knowledge, was
by no means the manner of soldier to neglect Satan-sent oppor-
tunities.

CHAPTER XXV

HOW A HALF DEAD INDIAN RACED WITH DEATH

EARLY the following morning Peche sought his com-
mander's ear, eager to relate his eavesdropping of the
night. His statements received with something of a sneer-
ing comment on the truthfulness of the informer. The abuse
scored on the blackboard of a retentive memory to be repaid
with interest later on.

" How may he escape? You watch him night and day.
Sleep in his room, eat at his table, live with him, in fact, until
the guardhouse be completed. You will of course take Ser-
geant Pere's quarters. How may he escape, I ask, unless with
your connivance? "

" You set a hard task, my Captain, but I will do my best
to serve you."

" See that you do so, if you desire to rise. Now, off to
rouse the workmen." Abruptly the speaker turned, for the
cringing Corporal sickened his soul, and moved toward the
storehouse. As he crossed the stockade, Wabacommegat ap-
peared. "Where is your son?" he asked sternly, and the
features of his companion set hard in a scowl.

" The Chief of the Missassagas has no son," he said harshly,
to hesitate at the frown of doubt twisting the face of his com-
panion.

"There is strife between you? Why?" And the crafty
savage, knowing he had stumbled, hastened to explain.

" Senascot has an evil tongue. He would stand in the
moccasins of his father before his time."

" At the moment, he may hardly stand in his own. He lies
within yonder house, where as you know, there is but one
woman to wait on three sick ones. He must be removed to
the tepees of your tribe." And the face of the father took on
a most ferocious expression.

"If he be thrust from the shelter he has preserved, if the
soldiers he has saved from death do not find him welcome — •

274

HOW A HALF DEAD INDIAN RACED WITH DEATH 275

how shall the father he seeks to betray, the tribe he has deserted,
give him a place to rest? "

" I am at a loss to understand, Wabacommegat," came the
suspicious answer. " The young man is a brave warrior.
Did not he set out for Niagara, with one woman for company,
while the Missassagas hid their cowardly carcasses until dan-
ger was past ? "

" Let the dog die," muttered the Chief savagely, turning to
conceal the hatred in his eyes. " Let him die. There is little
room for him in the lodges of his tribe."

Captain de Celeron curiously watched the dirty figure stum-
bling across the sand. The callousness of a father to an only
son astounded his civilized reasoning. He stood twisting his
mustache until a thought shot into mind, and he almost raced
up the steps into the storehouse.

" McLeod," he said to the storekeeper, busy displaying trade
on a slab counter, against the coming of possible customers,
" is Senascot sufficiently recovered to see me ? "

" I will see, Captain de Celeron," came the chill response.

McLeod hastened to the inner room, while the young man
left to himself, walked to the open window, a scowl on his
forehead revealing resentment of such reception.

"A surly dog," he muttered. "Escape, will he? I will
show him. He had best be careful. If he offer such greeting
to me again, I will find a way to deal with his long body.
Escape! I will teach him a bitter lesson an he try that game."

The door opened quietly at his back, and McLeod with
Francis Birnon appeared, carefully supporting the weak figure
of Senascot. He frowned at the apparent intimacy of the
three. Then swiftly came to their side of the room.

" Where was your father the night of the attack on this out-
post?" he demanded sternly. And Senascot, started, would
have fallen, had he not received the support of Birnon to a
chair. " Where was he ? I demand to know. Why does
he refuse shelter to an only son ? "

The young brave sat stolidly silent, his eyes cast down. At
last, as though he found the answer after hard searching, he
replied in a weak voice, but the echo of a once sturdy speech,
" The father of Senascot is old. He at times is strange in
manner." And Captain de Celeron became angry at the
evasive answer.

276 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

Leaning close, he rasped out, " Was he abroad to assist the
Iroquois? "

Senascot tried to rise as though the suggestion was an in-
sult to an ally, but feeble limbs chained his body to the chair.
Forced to remain seated, he averted troubled eyes from a
steady stare insisting truth. " My father was abroad," he
muttered thickly. " He was not present at the attempt on
this place."

A statement absolutely true. The wily old man had kept
his presence well in the background, while his braves, under
directions previously given, and obeyed at the time to the let-
ter, had stormed the tiny outpost of his friends and allies.

" Senascot is sure ? Then the girl who lies within is a liar.
Lied, when telling a tale of Missassagas on the warpath ! "
A silent nod was the only response, and Captain de Celeron
frowned.

" I will to her at once," he said quickly, moving toward the
inner room. But two thin hands clutched his coat, and in
spite of efforts to release their hold, clutching ringers clung
desperately to his torn uniform. " Release me, you lying dog,"
he shouted. " Let go, I say, ere I do you an injury." But
Senascot retained his feeble grasp, and with a yell of rage, the
young officer dashed clenched fists full into the face of the
wounded man. " You, to dare lay hands on an officer of New
France," he said, turning to run across the room.

As he passed, Francis Birnon, furious at scoundrelly be-
havior, raised one foot and tripped him full length upon the
floor. Then unable to voice righteous anger, the dumb
prisoner moved to the Indian, seeking to staunch the flow of
blood streaming from bruised nostrils. The storekeeper stood
petrified. While he waited, amazed, the door of the inner
room flew wide and his daughter hurried to his side.

" What is it, father? " she gasped. " What is it? " As her
eyes fell on the prostrate form, half stunned upon the boards,
"Has Francis — is he injured?" she whispered. And the
parent shook his head.

" No — no — dear, 'tis naught. To your room, at once,"
he replied, trying to urge her toward the open door. " In,
in at once."

At the moment, Captain de Celeron stumbled to his feet.
For a second, he waited, recovering his breath. Tugging

HOW A HALF DEAD INDIAN RACED WITH DEATH 277

sword from scabbard he ran across the room, brandishing the
steel within an inch of the prisoner's face. " Spy," he stut-
tered, " Spy. I will cut your carcass in inch pieces and throw
them to the dogs of the Missassagas."

Francis Birnon coolly stood his ground, contempt glittering
in eyes seeking to express the opinion of one unable to speak.
And his sweetheart, fearing for his life, ran with extended
arms, as though to protect him from assault, from a man near
out of mind with .passion.

" You are brave," she said angrily. " Exceeding brave to
threaten an unarmed prisoner. You dare not harm him, while
Monsieur Ambrose lives."

Without a word, perhaps somewhat ashamed, Captain de
Celeron hurried to the stoop, shouting, " Peche ! Peche ! To
me at once." With a crowd following on his speedy heels,
the Corporal hurried to obey. " Bhring irons. Haste, you
slow-witted scoundrel," greeted his ears, and he turned, run-
ning in search of the furnishings he devoutly desired were to
ornament the lean figure of his brother soldier.

The mob of trappers, shirt-sleeved, sweating, crowded to-
gether at the foot of the steps. Their curious faces betrayed
desire to know further of happenings, causing an officer to shout
commands with such slight regard to military decorum. But
Captain de Celeron was far past the trifling observance of
mere form. Rage swept his soul, blinding a distorted vision
to the rude men who stared open mouthed at what they con-
sidered insane behavior.

He paced the boards with unsteady feet, the muscles of his
red face twitching, more with thought that a girl had wit-
nessed his humiliation than for the insult to an officer. That
she should have been at hand — seen him full length on the
floor — stung his soul to the quick. Then Peche appeared,
dangling rusty handcuffs, and as the clink of metal met his
ears, he said harshly, " Haste, you fool. Am I to be kept
waiting all day? "

They entered, to discover a man holding a shivering girl
within the compass of two strong arms, while a father vainly
endeavored to soothe her wild alarm. And the sight caused
Captain de Celeron a madness. " Seize him," he shouted.
" Iron him." As the girl attempted to prevent Peche at his
welcome task, " Stand aside, you, or I will take measure with

278 THE SERGEANT OF FORT T@RONTO

your person little to your liking."

She bravely faced his fury. With icy contempt, inflaming
his rage the more, she said, " I would have you remember the
words of Brother Alonzo, Captain de Celeron. As for your
cruel treatment of a wounded man — one of the allies of New
France, that shall be reported to your superior officers at
Niagara, if I have breath to tell them."

" Out of the way, woman," he raved, thrusting her on one
side. To Peche, " Iron him, fool." And as the ready Cor-
poral flung a sinewy form on a yielding prisoner, locking the
rusted irons about hands and ankles, " Into the ' pit ' with him.
There let him rot. If I may not stretch his neck, I will starve
his body awhile. There were no orders against that course."

Again Madeline attempted intervention; thrust her slender
figure between the two. But the Corporal, a grin wrinkling
crafty lips, pushed roughly past, leading his charge outside,
where exclamations of surprise greeted their appearance.
Then Captain de Celeron, folding his arms, spoke with an
evil sneer.

" Storekeeper, I heard of your desire to escape. I tell you
plainly that until an officer of the Intendant come to relieve
you, you remain. Now, dare disobey me — and I will throw
you into the * pit ' to keep company with a rascally spy."

McLeod placed one arm about his daughter. Bravely re-
turned a steady stare. In a voice, composed as his respectful
manner, he said, " I refused to leave when his reverence,
Brother Alonzo, spoke of departure. For myself — "

"If the spy could have passed out in your company, no
doubt you would have been ready to run."

" Without one doubt, I should ; but we will, with your kind
permission, let that matter pass. I am here at my duty, and
as a civil servant of long standing have something to say.
You are military commandant — "

" And as such will be obeyed to the letter."

" Your absolute right to such obedience is unquestioned,"
McLeod answered respectfully, determined to give the other
no further cause of offense, " I, as storekeeper, last to interfere
with any order of yours."

' 'Twould be but the once, so I warn you."

" I need no warning, Captain de Celeron. As I say, my
duty I have done, and always will in the interest of New

HOW A HALF DEAD INDIAN RACED WITH DEATH 279

France. But I have this much to state — in turn, give you a
warning. To-day you laid rude hands on my daughter — per-
mitted your man so to do without instant punishment following
that insult. Such treatment, I will embody in my next report
to the Intendant at Quebec. Doubtless, he will have some-
thing to say to an officer who may not command respect for
women. Come, Madeline, this gentleman will excuse our fur-
ther attendance." And he turned, as if to depart.

" I demand that you stay," came the haughty retort, and
the storekeeper hesitated. Something in the sneering tone
caused his features to turn ash-white. " You have an ex-
ceeding poor memory, Monsieur McLeod."

The girl uttered a shrill cry. She understood. Trembling
in every limb, she exclaimed, " My father is sorry — he is in-
deed. He will ask your forgiveness."

The young man sneered. " I thought to bring one of you
to some sense of my authority. Have no fear, mademoiselle,
that is, for yourself. Your father forgets the trifling matter
of a blow delivered to an officer on duty."

Again she bravely faced him. " Captain de Celeron," she
said, striving to master cold terror, " I appeal to you as an
officer and a gentleman. Do not visit your displeasure on my
father because his daughter cannot return your love. You
know I love another — one you term spy. — I beseech you,
have mercy on him — on us, allow us to depart. See ! " She
fell on her knees, seizing cold fingers, with her warm hands.
" I kneel to you — I, a woman who never had cause to bend
to any, save a merciful God."

Captain de Celeron was visibly affected. His face flushed,
with envy of the passion inspiring her. Then hate of her
lover came raging. This spy, who had come to take a place
that would without doubt have been his in a near future. How
he hated him! The clasp of clinging fingers changed the
current of his thought. With a glance of love, he appeared
to almost relent. " Mademoiselle," he whispered, " you ask
too much. I cannot see you go. I love you as dearly as
you think to love this — fellow." Then he suddenly lifted her
to her feet. Passionately exclaimed, " Give him up. Prom-
ise to be mine, and I swear on the honor of an officer and gen-
tleman to save his life."

" That is without your power," a weak voice said. And

280 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

the three turned to gaze on Ambrose, grasping the doorposts
to prevent a headlong fall. " That is not within your power,
young sir," he repeated, and the girl flew to his side.

" I beg of you — be careful," she implored. " Be cautious
in your movements." And the fat one smiled.

" Aye, maiden," he replied, " 'tis well I am reminded. If
I die?" A shudder rippled his frame. "If I die, then fol-
lows one who is dear to you, and I would avoid that mis-
chance." He tottered to a chair, the girl supporting his
portly weight. " Ah, now young sir, go, and go at once. I
have overheard much this day. Too much. Have heard an
officer of New France implored for a protection he will give —
only at a price. Have heard a weak girl teach a lesson of
courage to a weaker man, and I have heard a young man
threaten a father with death. Death — death. Now, go,
sir. At once. You are an evil man whose wretched associ-
ate — my more than wretched brother — you see, I know all —
seeks to rob me of the short span of life remaining to my short
years."

Captain de Celeron stood silent. Turned sharply on his
heel. He had not dreamed the fat one possessed so much of
courage. He had no desire to unnecessarily offend him. He
was a servant of the all powerful Abbe, and as such, must
command a certain amount of respect. Though he cursed the
meddler in his heart, he intended going to wait a more pro-
pitious occasion. Doubtless would have instantly gone, but
the storekeeper chanced a smile of pity. That expression in-
terpreted, a sign of triumph at a momentary defeat.

With a gesture of rage, he snarled, " You smile, McLeod.
Have a care. Have a care, lest your precious daughter come
not crawling to my feet, imploring a ring I offered but a mo-
ment gone. And you, if you dare so much as lift an eyelash
to thwart my will, all the priestly authority in this land shall
not save you. So, remember."

McLeod flushed crimson, but bit his lip to prevent reply.
His tormentor, at his silence, threw discretion to the winds.
Shouted in loud tones, frightening the girl to the point of
fainting.

" Aye, my seller of worthless trinkets, and bargainer of
rotten goods, take heed — take heed lest your daughter be-
come not a worthless bargain, too stale even, for marriage with

HOW A HALF DEAD INDIAN RACED WITH DEATH 281

a drunken dog Missassaga."

He was permitted to say no more. The storekeeper, mad-
dened beyond endurance at the vile insult, sprang at his throat,
and the two went down together in a mad struggle of des-
perate hate. Ambrose strove to rise. But excitement proved
too much for an already overtaxed strength. His head fell
forward, and again he departed to the land of unconsciousness.

The girl stood, dazed for a moment. Then alarm found a
voice, and she ran screaming from the room. Her cries at-
tracting the attention of the laborers, who for the second time
that eventful day streamed over the sand like dogs after the
hunt. The room was instantly filled with a swaying mob, each
man striving to come near the two fighting madly on the
floor.

Sergeant Pere pushed through. " Stand back," he shouted.
" Stand back, idiots." Grappling with the maddened com-
batants, " McLeod ! McLeod ! are you mad ? Let go, I say.
Let go his throat. Would you send the man to Kingdom
Come? Name of a fish, what a madman! "

Seizing his crony by the back of the neck, he shook the
burly body with such force that to attack this new antagonist
became a necessity. And the storekeeper loosed his hold.
Staggering to his feet, panting, well-nigh breathless, he gazed
about with bloodshot eyes, until his daughter, coming to his
side, with little frightened cries brought remembrance.

" Name of the devil, McLeod, but you have murdered him
sure enough this time," Sergeant Pere said, kneeling, to un-
button the heavy stock collar. Then as a limp head fell for-
ward, " You, Peche, assist me to carry him outside." Then
they bore off the senseless form to the well in the stockade,
while Madeline clung to her father. He, shaken to his soul.

More than a few splashes of water were required to produce
effect. After repeated drenchings, and the liberal applica-
tions of much brandy, the young man opened his eyes, his
fingers feeling for a white throat whose skin would show the
marks of a well-deserved choking, for many a day. The
figure of a girl, her hair loosed to the breezes of the lake,
caught his eye, attracted his instant attention. Hoarsely he whis-
pered, " Seize me McLeod. Throw him to the * pit.' " And
Peche, taking to himself the command, hurried off.

Sergeant Pere attempted to follow, but a weak voice called

282 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

him back. He stood, irresolute, with a brain alarmed for
what he felt quite sure was now to happen. Then he motioned
for assistance in bearing an unconscious man to his own quarters.
Endeavored to rouse his officer by repeated applications from
a well-filled bottle of rum, kept secretly for emergencies.

" Name of a fish," he muttered, " but the storekeeper has
made one step too far on the long road to silence this day."
Through the window he could see the storehouse without be-
ing seen. " Peche ! " he snarled ; " Peche, ever to the front,
when there is dirty work on foot. And I had best heed my
speech, or I am like to take second place in a hurry." He saw
the storekeeper standing on the stoop, his hands behind his
back. Madeline, clasped slender arms about his neck, en-
deavoring to prevent the Corporal from leading off her
father. " Name of the devil," he muttered savagely, " but
what a caldron of fat is boiling this moment."

Captain de Celeron opened his eyes, endeavoring to rise.
" Assist me," he whispered. " Give me an arm. Where is
this madman? I will show him who is master now." And
the old man shuddered.

Together they crossed the stockade, escorted by the crowd.
As the steps were reached and Peche with his prisoner passed,
the young man whispered wickedly, " How now, my would-be
murderer ? Who commands at this outpost ? The ' pit ' will
clear your brain, for of a surety you must have been mad to at-
tack me." But the storekeeper answered never a word. With
a glance of contempt, he strode along, and in a few minutes
the dull thud of wood on wood spoke of one more confined
within the cramped quarters of the prison at Fort Toronto.

Peche, ever ready, hurriedly returned to assist his officer to
the silent storehouse. They entered to find a girl and In-
dian, anxiously tending a clerk. " Throw that fellow out,"
Captain de Celeron commanded harshly, pointing to the young
brave. But Senascot, with a haughty gesture, moved with
feeble steps toward the door, and Sergeant Pere scowled open
dislike of such treatment.

" He is near dead," he said suddenly.

"As you will be, do you dare interfere with my orders,"
came the harsh whisper. To the girl, alarmed, he said, " To
your lodging, woman. I will deal with you later — when the
voice your scoundrelly father robbed me of returns." As

HOW A HALF DEAD INDIAN RACED WITH DEATH 283

she tottered away, " Peche, see that you remain here. Permit
none to have communication with her, unless by my written
order." And a devoted slave became aware of extreme help-
lessness to assist a worshiped mistress. The meshes of an ad-
verse fate seemed tightening about his willing arms. Dazed,
he heard the brutal whisper of a man he had sought to fashion
to a gentlemanly soldier say, " Now — ah, now." Then,
" Carry that carrion to the inner room. 'Twill not be long
ere he be carried feet foremost in another direction." He
heard the laugh of his Corporal, found himself staggering be-
neath the weight of a fat form, senseless, limp to the touch.
" Now, Peche, you command here. As for you, Sergeant Pere,
to youf duty. One whisper from your lips, and into the ' pit '
you follow, and doubtless you will be in a much desired com-
pany."

The old man recovered from his trance to salute sharply.
Moved off, a blank stare in his bleared eyes. His brain
alarmed for the safety of his little cabbage, alone, with a half-
crazed man; the secretary near dead, if not dead at the mo-
ment ; himself denied access to both — a father and lover with
a creaking gallows ready to greet their innocent necks. And
he groaned. The thoughts chasing their dreadful way through
his own near-falling head inspired hideous fears for the safety
of one lone woman.

"Name of God," he muttered, "what shall I do? If I
venture after the priest, I may not reach him in time. If I
stay ? " And he broke into a passion of cursing directed at an
officer. Suddenly an idea entered the chaos of his mind. A
desperate plan, depending for success on the efforts of an In-
dian, near too weak to walk. " Senascot, he must go. He
shall go. To-night — no — this day. At the hour of noon
I will find him out. He shall go, or — " Then he stumbled
to the stockade.

The long hours of a weary forenoon crept slowly along;
each minute an age of waiting to one who would have flung
the precious hours he could ill spare behind with lavish hand.
At last — when noon crawled to a fulfillment, he instantly
hurried to the gateway. Passed through, with a careless re-
mark to the sentry, of his desire to gather berries as dessert.
Strolled slowly, with eyes alert to catch a first glimpse of the
man he sought.

284 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

Under the trees, at the western end of the clearing, a bundle
lay in the shade. All his strength of mind was needed to
prevent two anxious feet from breaking into a race. But he
moved cautiously; stooped, to touch the sleeper on the shoulder.
" Senascot," he said, as the other opened his eyes, " have you
strength for a journey? The young man who saved your life
is in danger — great danger. His woman, too." And as the
young brave nodded, " Then set out to find the doctor-priest.
He who tended your wounds. He seeks a master at Ticon-
deroga — you will go? Thank the Blessed Saints. All I
have is yours do you succeed." He slid into the forest. Un-
der the leafy shade raced to the beach: ran the faster along
the pebbled shore under cover of the overhanging bank, com-
ing to the wooden jetty, where lay moored several birch-bark
canoes.

" This one will serve," he muttered, after examining sev-
eral. " There be deer meat in this. 'Tis a speedy craft."
Unloosing the mooring rope, he paddled swiftly down the lake,
close inshore, to avoid observation of peering eyes. " In," he
said to Senascot, waiting ready. " Here is bread and meat of
a kind. Water you have in plenty. Now, haste, haste, if
haste end your life. Remember, you go for the sake of a man
who saved your woman from the Iroquois."

With a nod of understanding, the young brave thrust off,
dipping his paddle silently, and the birch-bark glided away
eastward. Sergeant Pere stood watching, until craft and
voyager were a mere speck upon the vast flat-bosomed lake.
Then, he turned. Made a silent journey to duty, not forget-
ting amid the turmoil of an anxious mind, to remark to the
sentry, his search for fruit had been unsuccessful.

That night, at sundown, when the rounds were made, a
report reached the ears of Captain de Celeron that a valuable
canoe had disappeared. Search parties instantly organized to
trace out and capture a daring thief. But the offender, un-
disturbed and unsuspected — for he was conspicuously active —
later sought a hard bed to wait. And at the return of the
last belated searcher, he rose to admit him and bar the gate.

" Name of a fish," he muttered, " but I am near to howling
like a babe for its bottle. I outwitted the stern one — I may
succeed with this boy I trained — or rather sought so to do
with his beast mind. If I do — " With this uncompleted re-

NOW, HASTE, HASTE, IF HASTE END YOUR LIFE"

HOW A HALF DEAD INDIAN RACED WITH DEATH 285

flection, the elderly thief 'sought his bed, leaving fate to her
web. And as he slept his dreams were tinted with beautiful
coloring. The work of that Divine master, whose name is
Hope.

CHAPTER XXVI

A WEAK MAN DEFENDS A YET WEAKER WOMAN

MADELINE McLEOD, in her father's lodging, with the
burden of two helpless invalids thrust on her care and
attention, moved as one in a dream, from whose nightmare
horrors there seemed slight chance of escape for the dreamer.
The violent attack of her father on his officer had happened
with such speed, as to well nigh paralyze both thought and
movement. His arrest and imprisonment stunned a brain
dulled by grief. Had it not been that an Indian maid and a
man near death claimed her attention, in some manner dis-
tracting anxious thought from her own very close danger, the
knowledge that she, a lone woman, was at the mercy of a most
unscrupulous man would have driven her gentle mind to the
verge of madness.

The comforting thought remained, Sergeant Pere was
there — free to render assistance. The racking dread, ever
present — he might not be permitted to come to her aid. The
hoarse whisper of an angry man, commanding that none be
admitted without his written order, had reached her ears,
while she leaned for support against a closed door.

For one brief mad moment the idea of rushing to the old
soldier, claiming his protection, flashed to mind. Then, the
fact of his commander's evident hostility, the certainty that
swift punishment would descend on his old body, did he dare
the slightest interference on her behalf checked anxious foot-
steps.' White and breathless she tottered to a chair, and
sat staring on the set features of Ambrose, whose breath-
ing sounded stertorous, loud in the silence. That, his only
sign of life. Otherwise, he might well have passed for a
figure in wax. So quiet he lay — so still his body — she ven-
tured a trembling hand on the black cassock covering a broad
chest. Suddenly, a low moan coming from the inner room
roused her. With a shiver of fear, she hurried to the side of
Rose of the Hills.

"Poor sick one," she whispered. "What may I do?"

286

A WEAK MAN DEFENDS A YET WEAKER WOMAN 287

And the patient motioned to the water pitcher. After a long
drink of its cool contents, she tried to rise, only to sink back
weakly on the bed.

" Is he safe ? " she asked, and her nurse, thinking the in-
quiry to be of Senascot, slowly shook a listless head.

" I do not know. I trust he has not gone far," she said in
dull tones.

Rose of the Hills opened her eyes wide. Weak as she was,
love wondered at brevity of a reply where a loved one was
concerned. For she inquired of Francis Birnon, a man whose
slightest whim would have been her delighted law. For
Senascot, she had no single thought. She had promised to be-
come his wife. Would keep a plighted word. But her whole
soul sickened for a white man ; one scarcely giving her a second
thought. And when remembrance wakened, imagination
painted — a squaw ! Yet the smile flashed from dark eyes,
when a bullet had sought its billet, a gentle touch of approba-
tion on a trembling shoulder, were treasures concealed most
dearly in the poverty-stricken storehouse of an Indian maiden's
memory.

"You must rest," Madeline said gently, taking notice of
the strong emotion exciting her patient. " Sleep, if you would
gain strength."

" Rose of the Hills would know if the young man is safe? "
she asked in a querulous whisper.

Her nurse, in the hope of quieting a fretful invalid, moved to
the window, straining eyes to catch a glimpse of the Indian.
" Senascot was wounded — " she began, but was suddenly in-
terrupted by a question rousing her curiosity.

"The prisoner — he — he is safe?5' the sick girl asked
quickly, struggling upright, to gaz with imploring eyes to the
white face of a woman, stricken dumb for the moment.

"What had you to do with him?" she demanded. "What
had you to do with him?" The last in a whisper, strained,
almost fierce. And Rose of the Hills flushed scarlet.

" Yes, what had she to do with a white man? " she asked her-
self. What indeed! Then she fell back on the pillows,
shaken with a storm of tears, as on her innocent mind dawned
the fact, this white woman, his sweetheart, suspected some
disgraceful connection existed between him and her own clean
body.

288 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

"What had you to do with that stranger? " came the harsh
imperious demand. For Madeline McLeod, pure as snow her-
self, was aware of scandalous intrigues openly taking place be-
tween the soldiers and the women of the Missassagas. Though
her sweet soul was filled with love of Francis Birnon, he was,
after all, only a man. This Indian, pretty enough to distract
his mind from an unspoken allegiance to her own fairer self.
" What — what had you to do with him ? " she repeated
jealously, and the sick woman, with heaving bosom, tried to
calm an excited voice.

"He came to the tepee," she cried wildly; "Rose of the
Hills was there — saw him, tended him while he slept. She
came to this place. Would reach Niagara. Senascot found
her — would go with her — that is all. Rose of the Hills is
a good girl." Then she fell back on the bed moaning, but not
another word would she answer to an insistent questioning.

Madeline was very angry, exceeding jealous, most deeply
offended. She knew the girl. A model of propriety where
common soldiers were concerned. But her lover — a gentle-
man despite his rags. He was of different mold. Had he
succumbed to the influence of other eyes? What was this
moaning girl to him ? And more dreadful question — what
was he to her? She stood thinking of these things to the ex-
clusion of all else. Even the safety of a lover, whose con-
stancy she sadly feared, had been sorely strained, if not al-
ready broken, second to this horrid jealousy. Thought of her
own swift passion rushed headlong on a maiden mind. And
she shuddered at unmaidenly forwardness. Trembled to
think — and the thought was bitter — she had been only too
ready to surrender untouched lips to a complete stranger. He,
finding an easy victim, more than eager to avail himself of a pas-
sionate, unrestrained love.

" Father, my dear father ! " she exclaimed with dry lips.
" Oh, that you were here to comfort your wretched daughter ! '
Then his misery, chained felon in a reeking prison, beyond help,
came to mind, and with unsteady feet she paced the room, think-
ing, thinking, of what to do.

Outside, in the busy stockade, brief excitement at the arrest
of two men swiftly faded. Under a chill sky, suddenly grown
thick with misty vapor, the labor of rebuilding wras rushed
feverishly forward by both Captain de Celeron and his grizzled

A WEAK MAN DEFENDS A YET WEAKER WOMAN 289

sub. The squared logs were already rafter high. Men
wielded splitting axes, making shingle with tireless energy.
Close by, several brawny figures trimmed poles for the roof, in-
tended by at least one man to be in position by dark of the
following evening.

He, the commander, stood with stiff neck wrapped in a fold
of linen, watching closely, finding fault with the every exer-
tion of his energetic sub, driving soldiers and laborers to des-
perate efforts, by the aid of a scathing tongue.

The old man instinctively understood he was in the way;
that his officer desired occasion to disrate him to the ranks.
And he worked the harder to retain three stripes, for the sake
of a girl, and the power to come and go unquestioned as he
pleased. " Name of a million devil fish," he muttered, " he
is determined to lose me my reputation as a commander of men.
I will show him a thing or two; give him a lesson of Dieskau's
teaching. The art of making a soldier work twenty-five hours
in the twenty-four. The little cub! He, to worry a nurse."

With a vindictive scowl, he unloosed the venomous vo-
cabulary of his well-stored mind. The sweating laborers re-
doubled their efforts, until Captain de Celeron, much against
his will, was forced to acknowledge the capability of his Ser-
geant, as a man driver and a work producer.

" You seem anxious to provide a prison for two friends," he
sneered. And the other, flinging off the drops on a heated fore-
head, replied most respectfully:

" I but obey orders," he said slowly. " I have always done
so at all costs. I am but the instrument, let the task be what
it will. They do not hang the knife when they catch the
murderer, my Captain," he added impressively.

The young man glared his dislike. For a moment, hesitated
as if to take the old man to task for insolence. Thinking that
he was like to make matters worse, in that interference would
delay the work in hand, he turned abruptly, walking to the
storehouse, discovering Peche bustling about examining the
trade goods.

"Well, what progress have you made?" he asked shortly,
as the man, all attention and eager to please, hurried to his side.

" Little enough," he answered. " I may not in one day un-
derstand the ins and outs of a business that seems to depend for
success on lying and cheating others."

290 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

4< Were those the only qualifications, Peche, you stand pro-
ficient this moment." And the Corporal flushed to the roots of
his thick hair. " Enough of that — see you ask only fair
prices. I would not have custom — 'tis little enough we have —
driven to the British."

Scowling thoughtfully, as one weighing a knotty problem,
the would-be storekeeper, said, " 'Twill soon be at my finger
ends, my Captain. I can easy take pattern from the books of
McLeod." Already his robber instincts pointed the way to
gain, while he pleased his officer. Something of the sort must
have crossed that gentleman's mind, for he interrupted, with a
sour smile, when Peche, disliking to be disturbed at a pleasing
task, said, " There be many skins on hand — "

" Bring the books. I will examine them for myself. There
may be papers among their pages." And his companion
frowned. He desired time to scan their records, that he might
increase prices, and thereby add a trifle to his pocket. " Why
do you hesitate? Bring the books at once. There may be
other pages between their covers."

" 'Twill be a work of time — this storekeeping," Peche
ventured.

" Doubtless you wish to be first, my man. Come ! The
books at once." And the Corporal, concealing his discomfi-
ture, proceeded to a huge chest standing in one corner. After
a pretended difficulty with the lock, sneered at by the waiting
officer, he brought to light the heavy tomes, on whose neat
pages were inscribed in a feminine handwriting the many
records of business at the outpost. " Ah, Peche, what would
you give to find thievery in these," Captain de Celeron laughed.
Then bent to his task.

Many hours he paid a close attention to the even lines, and
cleanly written figures. With his slight knowledge of book-
keeping, not one error could he discover in the columns that
balanced to a centime. " Ten thousand devils," he muttered
angrily, " but our storekeeper is more than clever at such
work." Then again commenced an eager search, anxious to
uncover fraud.

He knew something of the difficulty of balances; had been
in charge of the commissariat department at Niagara, and on
occasion had been forced to dip deep into a slender pocket to
repair sundry errors, incapable of explanation, that would oc-

A WEAK MAN DEFENDS A YET WEAKER WOMAN 291

cur at the monthly audit, in spite of a minute attention to debit
and credit. At length he studied, at last gave up his task.

" Curse him," he muttered, " he is a wonder at his trade.
More than honest, too, as far as I may discover. 'Twere few
possessing his opportunity, that would not feather their owh
nests." Then he said to Peche at his elbow, " What more
does the chest contain ? " And once again a rummaging com-
menced among the storekeeper's private possessions.

With rough hands, the Corporal turned over the few re-
maining papers. Among them a parchment covered with
crabbed writing, bearing on its crackling surface a mystic eye,
a large black seal, and along a much frayed side the inscription,
" Rene de Laudonniere." Underneath " Ne Varietur." One
other scrap of paper there was, setting forth of how, two per-
sons, " Madeline Birnon, spinster, and Norman McLeod,
bachelor, both of this parish, have on the 22nd of August, in
the year of our Lord, seventeen hundred and thirty-eight, re-
ceived the Holy Sacrament of marriage at my hands." Signed
by a writer, whose autograph was but a running scrawl.

Nothing else was there of value, and the searcher, disap-
pointed at a failure to find hidden gold, rose from aching
knees to lay them before his officer. He sat lost in thought of
one, obstinately hidden behind the closed door of the inner
room. A frown of displeasure crossed his forehead at being
disturbed in a gloating of what should happen, once the clerk
was dead and buried, and the hidden one be at his command.

" Well, what have you chanced on, that you stand staring
as though the devil came to take you home ? " he said angrily.
And the Corporal, seeing his evident temper, pointed a dirty
stub finger at the papers.

" That is all, my Captain," he answered respectfully.

"Two musty parchments. Faugh! they smell of mold."
Then eagerly, " What have we here? Rene de Laudonniere.
Who may he be? Well, I know not what the purport of his
signature — this, appears to be the certainty of a daughter's
birth in wedlock. She may not be so fortunate. I will in-
quire of her as to the first."

Jumping to his feet he crossed the room to tap with an air
of doubt on the silent panel. Three applications of noisy
fingers brought no response. Becoming alarmed at the con-
tinued silence, he commenced pounding heavily on the door

292 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

with the hilt of his sword. And again, for some minutes, he
was disappointed.

" Admit me at once, I wish to speak with Monsieur Am-
brose/' he called, enraged by the silence.

Suddenly the door opened, revealing the unsteady figure of
the man he asked for. Behind that totterer, his keen eyes
caught sight of a trembling girl, whose arms were passed about
her companion, supporting him to the best of her slender
strength.

" I am here, young sir," Ambrose muttered painfully,
" What do you wish ? I pray you be brief — I — I am a weak
man."

" I desired to know of your welfare, Monsieur," Captain de
Celeron said, starting back, so surprised was he at the sight of a
man, he believed many lengths on a last journey. " I — "

" As you may see, I am a man near spent," interrupted the
other. " I thank you for the attention, and now — now I
would retire to rest."

" Is there naught I may do ? " The persistence prompted by
sight of a trembling figure striving to hide. " Naught far
mademoiselle ? "

Ambrose waved a feeble hand. " We need only food and
water," he replied. " The maid and I would be alone." And
the unwelcome visitor crimsoned, at the blank refusal.

" I must speak with her," he said fiercely, attempting to
push past. But a portly personality barred his entrance, and
he savaged his lip, to suppress words unfitted for womanly
hearing. "At least, permit me to enter — see to your ac-
commodation," he insisted, trying to speak calmly. Again
Ambrose shook his head; motioned the girl to close the door.

" Mademoiselle McLeod, I must speak with you concerning
your father. Must — and will," the young man insisted, and
the secretary, trembling, white-faced with an agony of pain,
fumbled at his beads, his twitching fingers found difficulty in
securing.

" The maiden leaves not my side," he gasped. " By this
cross, I command you to go." Here he attempted to hold up
the carven emblem of his faith to blazing eyes. " By — by this
cross, and the Abbe's displeasure."

Captain de Celeron stepped back, rage in his heart turning
his features a mottled hue. The door was suddenly banged to

A WEAK MAN DEFENDS A YET WEAKER WOMAN 293

in his face, and with unsteady steps he hurried from the store-
house.

" Shades of hell," he muttered. " A million plagues on his
cursed carcass, when he meets his master there. I would I
were sure he is as near dead as he looks, and I would pluck
him from his hiding place, and throw him to the ' pit,' to keep
a short company with those other two." Then he reached
the quarters of Sergeant Pere, threw himself into a chair,
scheming the best and shortest way to come at a girl, whose
company was fast becoming a mania to an obsessed mind.

He sat, while the midday sun climbed to the zenith ; crouched
as the warm rays penetrated the room in which he pondered.
Then a mad idea crossed his mind, and snapping fingers be-
trayed delight.

" I will do it," he muttered. " When her father stands be-
neath a tree, the rope about his neck, his danger will frighten
her to relenting. But I must go slow. The fat beast may
summon the soldiers to her side. They may even obey, know-
ing who is his master." He laughed. " I can wait, and my
waiting will not be long. He will soon die — may the devil
seize him when he does."

He suddenly rose, cheered wonderfully, at his plan. When
he came to his energetic sub, vociferous, panting with exertion,
he even smiled. " You do well, my good fellow," he said.
" We shall soon be prepared to face the winter." And his
polite manner gave the old man food for reflection.

" Name of a fish," muttered he, scowling thoughtfully,
" what has happened ? He must be planning some pleasing
mischief; I would give much to know what Satan's work he
has in mind. I must gain the ear of my little cabbage; per-
haps he has seen her. Found a way to gain her favor —
God's name, I trust she goes not too far with him." The
thought caused his mind much worry, soothed only in some de-
gree by a renewed tongue thrashing of the laborers, each man
near to the point of open rebellion against such a taskmaster.

When Madeline slammed the door in the face of a most un-
welcome and much dreaded visitor, her companion leaned
against the door for support. " Daughter," he whispered,
tottering to a welcome eouch, on which he dropped as if ex-
hausted, " I am near gone. I — I know it." And as she
held the rum to his lips, " Ah — that is better — much bet-

294 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

ter. What have they done with the young man, the dumb
one — and your father? The soldier, who was kind to me,
where is he? I must speak with him — must," he added in
a firm strong voice. And the girl with white lips told him the
tale of an hour.

" My father is imprisoned," she said/ wearily, " with — with
Francis for company. Sergeant Pere is doubtless on duty, with
his officer, who gave orders no one may be admitted to us with-
out his order."

" Is he so daring? Does he so disregard my wish to have
the poor fellow placed in a more comfortable spot? How may
I reason with a prisoner in such abominable hole?"

" Monsieur Ambrose, since his illness Captain de Celeron
has acted in a most strange manner. I think him not yet re-
covered. He never spoke to me — never attempted such in-
sult in the days gone by. He — "

" Is mad, child. Mad ! The Abbe, my master, will sorely
take him to task, when he hears of the treatment an honored
secretary has undergone at his hands." Then the strength of
the speaker seemed suddenly spent, for he lay back on the
couch, with closed eyes, muttering to himself, " He is mad.
Mad! Mad as I was, when I sought to remain in this ac-
cursed spot."

Madeline shuddered. The moment seemed arrived when
her companion had also lost reason. She fell hastily to the
bathing of his forehead with liquor, until he again mustered
strength to sit upright.

" Where is the good soldier ? " he said weakly. " I must
speak with him. He will know what may be done. I must
speak with him." He muttered so angrily, that the girl as-
sured him she would do his will, and at last soothed to calm-
ness, by repeated assurance, he lay back and seemed to fall
into a stupor of weakness. " You — you are good," he tried
to smile.

Then a fright seized her. The man lay so still his soul
seemed departed. Stooping, she held a trembling breath for
sound of his respiration until a muffled groaning, reassured her,
that life remained. "What if he die?" she asked herself.
"He shall not. Oh, Francis — father!" she called and
Peche, sneaking to the door, gruffly bade her be silent or he
would call his officer. That dreaded appearance calmed her

A WEAK MAN DEFENDS A YET WEAKER WOMAN 295

hysterical longing, and for hours she sat silent.

The gloomy day wore its slow length to dismal night. The
creeping hours, a continual torment to her, who seemed alone.
Peche, on guard in the storehouse — his harsh voice raised
loud at times, when bartering with a solitary customer — she
knew in the service of Captain de Celeron. Any message by
him to a devoted slave was out of the question. What to do,
she had not the faintest idea. And covering her face she shud-
dered at thought of what the morrow was like to bring.

But once was she interrupted. The Corporal carried in a
tray on which was placed a steaming venison steak. Plac-
ing the dishes on a small table, he waited for a moment. Then,
with a shrug, at the greeting received for his attention, he
turned on his heel, to depart without a word.

" A tear improves her appearance," he chuckled, as he stood
in the empty storehouse, now closed for the night to custom.
' 'Twould be a pleasing task to console her grief. She is a
fine woman, though a trifle thin to my taste. Little wonder
baby-face lost his silly wit to her." He laughed loud. " What
a woman to assist a clever man to wealth," he ended, sitting
down to a lonely meal.

CHAPTER XXVII

HOW SERGEANT PERE BECAME POSSESSED OF ANOTHER MAN'S

TREASURE

THAT same night, long after a steaming steak had lost
its warm savor and an Indian maid had received a patient
attention, Madeline, by the feeble light of one tallow candle,
sat in the inner room, with only the silent figure of Ambrose
for company.

Once she had risen, moved to the table and attempted to
eat. That one attempt, nauseating to her sick soul. A dry
mouth could not moisten the food a dryer throat refused to
swallow, and giving up the thought, she returned to her chair.
Her once smooth hair hung in disorder about drooping shoul-
ders; the crystals of many bitter tears were visible on pallid
cheeks not long ago colored by smiles and happiness. Her
eyes, once limpid in their glance, betrayed symptoms of a mind
distressed ; expressed by the wild stare she flashed about the
dim room when Peche came to the door, hesitated, then moved
away on tiptoe. The complaining boards, loud sentinels of
a never-ceasing vigilance.

Ambrose, after his one request to speak with Sergeant Pere,
remained in a stupor. Even his loud breathing, stilled to faint
respirations, barely stirring a broad chest. Outside, the wind
sobbed mournfully about the building, dying away at times
to dull murmurs, then rising to furious roars that set the
withered vines tapping specter messages against the horn-
paned casement.

Now and again a steady repetition of the knocking caused
her to start from the chair, as the possibility of some unwel-
come intruder, seeking entrance through a slight protection,
forced its horrid thought to a dulled mind. Three times she
moved to the window, over whose gaping blackness a blanket
was pinned to shut out the night. Thrice had she sought to
draw aside the comforting shade. Each occasion had trem-
bling limbs refused to obey. And she returned to her chair,

296

ANOTHER MAN'S TREASURE 297

drawn close to the silent secretary for the sake ot senseless,
though precious company.

A louder, more insistent knocking, repeated at steady in-
tervals, as though to attract attention to the knocker, fell on
her strained ears. She rose, crept to the window, swayed,
and fright caused her hands to tear away the blanket from its
slight fastenings. A face was pressed close to the panes. For
one moment faintness gripped a sickening hold, and with arms
extended she sought to thrust off the gleaming eyes striving to
peer within. Then the scarred face of Sergeant Pere came
clear to her swimming vision. With a low sob of relief she
hurriedly opened the window to the terrifying night, and the
old man clambering in, as hurriedly restored the blanket to its
former position. But he left the casement wide, to allow op-
portunity of escape.

Then he turned to clasp her within the safety of his two
strong arms. " Never cry, little one," he soothed. " Never
cry. Those bright eyes were never made for weeping." And
as she continued sobbing, " What a greeting to an old friend."

" Oh, Sergeant," she moaned, " I was so frightened."
Then Peche stole to the door, listened. Waited a long mo-
ment ere he moved off. " I did try to be brave, but the lone-
liness!—"

" Name of a fish, I am frightened too. Had it not been that
our little officer returned to his old love, the bottle, I had
never reached your side. He is no better?" he asked, and
the girl shook her head.

" I think him near death," she whispered in awed tones,
going on to speak of the reception accorded to Captain de
Celeron, and the urgent request to speak with the " good
soldier." " He has been exceeding ill," she said slowly.

" He is brave, now he nears the end. Strange, one so
timorous should at the last change so greatly in manner. I
wonder he dared De Celeron. He was here? What did you
with him to make him so pleasant ? " And the girl entered
into a detailed account of the young man's doings. Of his
evident hostility, and her fears as to what might befall her
only friend, who shook his head, unable to fathom the mysteri-
ous change in his officer. That warning sense of another, that
subtle attraction, rousing a sleeper to perception of strange
company in the chamber, even while sleep clouds the brain and

298 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

dulls the most intelligent intellect, caused Ambrose to open his
eyes — to even sit upright, staring wildly about.

The old man softly hurried to his side. With gentle hand
pressed him back on the couch. " Quiet ! Quiet, Monsieur Secre-
tary," he whispered. " I am here in response to your desire.
What is it you wish?" And the fat man, nodding, clasped a
hand outstretched in greeting. His clutch so clammy, a shud-
der rippled through the strong body, bent over to assist his
movements.

" Good soldier," he muttered feebly, " 'twas time you came.
I am — am near my end. I have done all I may to protect
this maid. — Now, now comes your turn. I a — a sinful
man, near death must speak. She has been good — kind, to
me. I — " Then his tired eyes closed again,' and Sergeant
Pere motioned to Madeline for the spirit bottle.

" The rum, little one," he said. " Quick ! he wishes to say
some message — perhaps 'tis to his master."

Ambrose, swallowing a little of the liquor, gasped, then
seemed to recover strength. " There is little time," he said.
"Hark, my good man — I have much to say. 'Tis of this
maiden. I know the commandant of this place to be a wicked
man ; I — a timorous soul — would prevent crime. The
prisoner is beyond me." Madeline moaned, as Ambrose smiled
a weak encouragement. " Yes, daughter, beyond me. He is
lost — but you must be saved from harm."

He pressed one flabby hand on his chest, stabbed by a pang
choking him nigh to suffocation. Again the old soldier held
the cup to his lips and he drank deep. Near drained the
liquor. He suddenly sat erect without assistance, to speak, his
voice quite strong. " Ah, that is better, much • — much bet-
ter. Now, soldier, I must say my say and be done."

" Calm yourself, Monsieur Secretary. I have this day sent
for assistance. Brother Alonzo will return immediately, when
he knows the state of affairs."

" Too late — too late. I shall have set out on a much
longer journey than the doctor. He will be too late to save
me — but, daughter, he may arrive in time to save you.
Hearken to a man near his God. There is but one way to
save your precious soul from hell: your body from the flames
of a bad man's lust. I may not protect you, but, but — this
good soldier can, an he will, keep you pure — save you from

ANOTHER MAN'S TREASURE 299

worse than death, if you swear betrothal to him."

At the word, Madeline snatched the hand he held. Gazed
on him as though she thought him mad. " Become betrothed
to Sergeant Pere ! " she gasped, white to the lips, and the tone
of her voice intimated to a listener, with what horror she re-
garded such proposal. " Become betrothed to Sergeant Pere,"
she repeated slowly, and that listener shuddered. Of a sud-
den came to his mind the full knowledge of his aging years.

" Yes, my daughter," Ambrose said earnestly. " 'Tis the
only way. Naught else can save you from a desperate man.
Think well, my child. And you, good soldier, think well ere
you refuse." Then he added softly, " The young man is be-
yond earthly assistance, I, a dying man, am sure."

Madeline stood dazed, her eyes distended, while a reeling
brain pictured a supposed spy, strong, in the first flush of man-
hood, struggling for breath at the end of a swaying rope.
With a shriek she tumbled headlong, departing to the land of
merciful unconsciousness. Sergeant Pere rushed to her side,
and the noise of his heavy tread caused Peche to run to the
door, loudly demanding admittance while his heavy fists
pounded the panel.

" Open ! Open, I say," he shouted loud. " Who makes
such noise within? Open, ere I break down the door." Then
resumed a futile hammering on senseless wood, until, mysti-
fied by the dead silence following his efforts, he ran from the
room in search of Captain de Celeron.

Sergeant Pere lifted the girl from the floor, carrying her to
a chair. " You were too abrupt, Monsieur Secretary," he
snarled, endeavoring to rouse his idol to life.

' 'Tis the only course, good soldier," Ambrose murmured.
" The only way to save her. A canon of our Church recog-
nizes such betrothal between two who — who may be beyond
the services of her servants. Provided a priest be not within
reach, and you both express intention to wed, you may live to-
gether, even, without sin in the eyes of the Church, do you
immediately receive the Holy Sacrament of Marriage at the
earliest possible moment."

" I dare not," whispered the old man. " I could never
dare. She is not willing and — "

" She must be made so," Ambrose said, and the other hesi-
tated. He had no mind to step into the shoes of Francis

300 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

Birnon through a gateway of fear, whose vista had robbed a
girl of consciousness. His face reddened, as he stubbornly
shook a grizzled head.

" I dare not. No, will not. She is but a child."

" I thought you brave," the secretary gasped. His breath
was exceeding short, and excitement was draining strength.
" One daring all for her sake."

" Not that way. Not that way."

" Dare you stand on one side and see her suffer? Are you,
a soldier, grown so fearful you may not protect a maid ? "

" Not in that way," came the dazed answer. " Not in that
way."

"Then you will see her suffer? The maid you profess
to love?"

"No! No!"

" Know a thousand deaths in her suffering, when your
officer shall have destroyed both body and soul?"

"God, no! He dare not."

" He will." And as the other groaned, " I see — I see, 'tis
fear of him, his displeasure, that turns you coward." Am-
brose was bitter, even in a struggle for breath. Thought his
companion but a common boaster. " A coward, such as my-
self. Two cowards who dare not protect one weak woman,"
he murmured bitterly, wringing his hands.

Sergeant Pere stepped forward, his scar taking on a deeper
tint of color. Murder gleamed in eyes, staring hate of that
word. " My officer dare not say so much to me," he said
savagely. " Were you not a man nigh to death — " He
hesitated as Ambrose winced. " I regret such violence," he
said gently, " but no man may call me coward, and live to say
I did not try to make him swallow the word."

" Then become betrothed to this poor maid," Ambrose said
slowly. " Prove by such a deed you are brave as you say."
But the old man shook his head, biting white lips to stay a rush
of angry words coming from the depths of his startled heart.

Suddenly the secretary staggered upright. Came close, to
clutch him by the arm. Implored him to consider, and tears
streamed down fat cheeks, so intense the pleading of a clerk,
wakened to deadly peril of a woman. But all the old soldier
could mutter, was — " What will she say ? I dare not — no.
I dare not. What will she say?"

ANOTHER MAN'S TREASURE 301

" She will thank God daily for such care," came the feeble
reply. " Thank Him, a brave man came to render such as-
sistance."

Ambrose was growing weak. The false strength of the
liquor fast disappeared. He swayed, would have fallen, had
not his companion grasped one limp arm, assisting him to a
welcome couch. " You have but little time to consider, good
soldier," he groaned, and so faint his voice, the other trembled
the end was near.

" If 'tis the only way," he muttered shamefaced and bash-
ful, " I will — that is, an she be willing."

A smile of intense satisfaction stole over the face of Ambrose.

"Rouse her then. Haste! I would hear her say so —
that I may depart in peace." He closed his eyes, to lie back
on the couch, as Sergeant Pere tenderly tried to restore con-
sciousness to the girl he was to rob of peace, while endeavoring
to procure her safety.

Suddenly she sat up, and her first words were, " I cannot.
I dare not."

Ambrose seemed to regain strength. " You must, daughter.
I command it. Hark!" he said, and the trampling of many
feet came rushing to murder silence. " Which will you choose,
child ? " he asked. And she shuddered.

" I will," she feebly cried. Anything but that, she thought.
" I will." And Sergeant Pere smiled a wonderful smile.

A loud authoritative knock startled them. A harsh voice
demanding admittance shouted loud, " Open, open, I say."
And Captain de Celeron could be plainly heard, commanding
the door to be battered down.

Sergeant Pere assisted the girl to her feet, and in that mo-
ment the touch of his lean hand, the sense of security in his
presence, the knowledge he would lay down the remnant of a
long life in her service, swept her soul. Suddenly she turned,
hiding a white face on his trembling shoulder. " I will," she
murmured. And her future husband colored the hue of a
ripened winter apple, as she repeated with a sob, " I will — I
must."

Ambrose staggered upright. "You both desire betrothal?"
he said in a loud voice, and a howl of rage penetrated the
room, from the outer darkness. " Then, Madeline McLeod,
you truly swear to be faithful to this man all the days of your

302 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

life?" And as a fainting nod was his reply, he said, "And
you, good soldier, Pere, also are of the same mind?" A
sonorous assent was given, and Ambrose smiled, as he raised
his hands in a blessing. Then he raised his voice to say,
" Captain de Celeron, take warning, these my children be
under protection of Holy Church."

Madeline gasped, as the words left his lips. Then screamed,
for the smile on his features faded swift. He tottered, fell,
his last word on earth spoken, for that same moment he passed
into the Presence of his Maker. And a moaning girl rushed
to his side, her first words as a promised wife, the name of a
lover, who from the moment must now be totally forgotten.

"Francis! Francis!" she moaned. "What have I done?
Oh, how could you persuade me to such dreadful doing? " she
cried, clutching at the dead man's cassock; he, smiling the in-
scrutable smile of those beyond the suffering of a mere woman.
"Oh, how could you, how could you?"

A thundering succession of blows broke in on her sobbing.
The door was splintered from its hinges. Over the wrecked
wood sprang Captain de Celeron, white faced, furious with
rage, accompanied by several soldiers. " Seize him," he stut-
tered. " Seize him — throw him to the ' pit.' You vile rob-
ber." But the ancient one paid slight attention. His eyes
were riveted on his betrothed, sobbing at a dead man's side.
He did not even feel the fetters Peche placed upon his wrists.

Then the young man angrily turned on her. " Now,
Mademoiselle McLeod, what means this refusal to admit an
officer of New France? What mischief do you plan in com-
pany with two rogues ? " Receiving but sobs for answer, he
rushed to the old man. " You — you — " he stuttered —
" what have you to say ? Explain your presence here, in viola-
tion of my direct command."

For reply he heard, " The secretary desired speech with
me."

" What could he have to say that I could not hear ? An-
swer."

" That I must firmly decline to do," the old man said re-
spectfully, in a tone that maddened his officer to extremity.

" Ten thousand devils seize your vile carcass/' he hissed,
and raising a clenched hand smashed it full weight into leath-
ery features, blazing a fury at the undeserved blow. " That,

ANOTHER MAN'S TREASURE 303

for your silence! "

"Coward!" came the cold, contemptuous word, and such
stillness fell on the scene Madeline raised her head, horrified,
to see blood trickling down the nostrils of her champion.

" Coward indeed," she exclaimed with flashing eyes, that
boldly confronted the red features of the younger man.
" Coward indeed, as you always were at heart where women
and weaker ones be concerned. Brute — / say, to strike a
man old enough to be father to you." And Sergeant Pere,
proud of her bravery, experienced a sense of dislike at the
reference to his age.

Some of the soldiers were scowling — Captain de Celeron
noted that fact from under lowered eyelids. They were evi-
dently in sympathy with the girl, he thought. He must go
carefully. Mutiny had happened for the sake of an injured
woman, or one who posed as such. Then he tried to smile.

" Sergeant Pere," he said thickly, " 'twas in the heat of
passion — that blow. I regret — am sorry." And the words
came near choking breath, so maddened he was at the forced
apology. " But your offense is none the less, in disobeying
my most positive orders. Now, answer me, why came you
here?"

" To protect my person," the girl said, stepping close.
" Monsieur Ambrose desired I should become betrothed to
Sergeant Pere — and I obeyed."

Captain de Celeron staggered against the wall, hands
pressed to a forehead behind whose whiteness a brain reeled.
For one brief moment he blindly stared. Then he muttered,
" Do I dream ? " to stand silent, as one stunned by the force
of some terrific explosion.

Madeline came the closer to him. " Yes," she said slowly
and distinctly, " I say before you all, I am the betrothed wife
of Sergeant Pere, a man I respect and honor above any, here.
This step was taken, I repeat, by the advice of Monsieur Am-
brose — who," — here she whispered, — " lies dead before your
eyes."

Again the young officer started. With twitching features
crept on tiptoe to the couch. Bent a long while over the
smiling, upturned face. " God ! " he whispered. " Dead !
Even in death he thwarted me." Suddenly he straightened,
scowling at the living, whose continued existence was a sore

304 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

defeat to his purpose. " You have succeeded," he snarled.
" Now is my turn. You are degraded to the ranks, for in-
solent disobedience."

" I demand a hearing before a proper court-martial," Ser-
geant Pere said hotly. " I have certain rights as a sergeant in
the service of New France."

" You had, and I will prove to you at whose hands you
held them. Strip him, Peche." And the Corporal eagerly
seized a knife, slashing off the stripes of his ancient enemy.
" Now, loose his irons. You have rights. Those of a com-
mon soldier. — To their quarters, I say. You shall have
their rights, the right to protect a woman from fourteen others
of your rank. Off! You fool, to even think you could outwit
me."

The old man stood as one in dreamland; dazed by the high-
handed proceedings. He was conscious of a stream of curs-
ing, but he made no move to go. " Begone, you ancient idiot,"
was roared in his ear. " As for your other lover, Mademoiselle
McLeod, I will soon make a short end of him." Then a timid
touch fell on his arm, and a slender figure supported his blind
footsteps toward the wrecked door.

Madeline, with one haughty glance at the raving officer,
walked proudly at the side of her chosen husband. The sol-
diers fell back respectfully, making way for their passage. A
weak girl, grown strong, protecting a once stronger man, wbo
at the moment seemed suddenly old, in manner feeble, his
movements that of senile age.

As they disappeared, Captain de Celeron turned on Peche.
" Throw that carrion out," he snarled, pointing at the dead
body. " Dig a hole and tumble the dog in its dirt. When
that is done, wait here. I will be at my quarters. The spy
shall hang in the morning, by all the devil holds most dear."

Peche smiled. Now, at last, he was to taste power.
Harshly he commanded the men to his purpose, restoring the
room to a former order. But he ordered the corpse of his
brother to be laid in the storehouse. Then dismissing the sol-
diers, peeped in at Rose of the Hills, scowled, shrugged as he
made himself comfortable, gloating over a future enjoyment.

Captain de Celeron stumbled across the enclosure, blind with
rage. Entering the quarters of the man he had degraded, the
bottle received a close attention. Vessel after vessel of rum

ANOTHER MAN'S TREASURE 305

he poured down a parched throat, whose dryness matched an
arid soul. The more he drank, the more thirsty his desire to
end the life of the only living person standing in the pathway
of pleasure. For, strange though it appear, the young man,
enraged by drink and maddened by disappointment, had yet
some thought of remaining honor where the betrothed of
another soldier, however low his rank, was concerned. But
— he thoroughly determined to end the life of that soldier, at
the very earliest opportunity.

CHAPTER XXVIII

HOW A SERGEANT SOUGHT TO CARE FOR A NEW FOUND WEALTH

WHEN Madeline McLeod, with her promised husband,
came out to the frown of a chill September dawn,
neither had heart for conversation. The old man, yet in a
dream, became conscious of a strange shyness, almost a sense
of unworthiness for the company of this quiet, proud girl,
silently moving at his side. With an effort he roused himself
to snatch a glance at her white features. Then he lowered
his eyes and walked a trifle faster.

They reached the quarters of the garrison. A bleak, long
room, whose bare, whitewashed walls accentuated their ex-
treme poverty. Accoutrements were placed at accurate in-
tervals over as accurately made beds; tidiness, order, reigned
supreme; even the white-sanded floor, smooth and level to the
fraction of an inch. But comfort, homeliness, was absent.
The poorest farmer in New France had more in the mean
hovel he might call home.

They moved up the echoing room, deserted by the soldiers,
at a noisy breakfast near by, and the old man sighed heavily
as they came to the bed of Corporal Peche, placed for the sake
of light and air by the window at the far end. The girl fol-
lowed obediently. And not until a gentle touch upon her arm
broke in on abstracted thought did she appear to realize the
place in which she stood, or understand the extremity of her
desolate position.

" Madeline," he said softly, near apologetic his tone, " 'tis
a poor place. I am sorry." And a weary light of under-
standing came into her troubled eyes.

" This is where, I — we, are to live ? " she asked in a voice
betraying slight interest in the matter of a dwelling. " With
the soldiers? "

* This is where Peche slept, but 'tis no fit spot for you."

She tried hard to smile. " Anywhere is well enough —
now. JTis better than my father, and my dear Fran — " A

306

A NEW FOUND WEALTH 307

sob escaped her, preventing completion of that beloved name.
She had forgotten. With a gesture of apology to her promised
husband of an hour she sank on the bed, staring out of the win-
dow, and staring, thinking thoughts that made her shudder.

" The men will doubtless give up the place to you," he
said quickly, though in the bottom of his heart doubts of that
courtesy were rampant. There were several notorious char-
acters among the fifteen rank and file. And though they all
expressed abject respect for Mademoiselle McLeod, the daugh-
ter of a civil servant, it remained to be seen whether such
deference would be continued to the wife of a common soldier
not much the better than themselves. " They will, of course,"
he added, with a glitter in his eyes that hinted of accident to
the one refusing.

He moved across the room, pondering the matter. Some-
thing of the old imperious stride in his walk. If any one
scoundrel dared to insult her ! ! Then he shivered. Chill fear
crept up his spine, blanching his features and rounding his
shoulders. The full knowledge that he was but a private in
the ranks came home with full force. He must obey now, in
place of demanding obeyance.

For a long time the two remained silent together. The
present was miserable. The future seemed to hold no hope
for either. The mind of one, occupied with thought of a lover
very near death ; the weary days of waiting that must be passed,
ere dissolution released her spirit, to join a waiting soul in the
great beyond. The other occupied with desire of comfort
for a girl whose future must be made happy as possible by the
lavishing of much care and attention on her, lonely and forlorn.
She might love a younger, but not a more devoted man.

" 'Twas for the best," he muttered. " Brooding over it
little use. Make matters worse. Name of a fish, do any one
of them seek to insult her while I live, I will cut out his
tongue and cause him to swallow such stinking morsel. Name
of ten thousand fishes, yes! And what do I do, sitting here
like a mute at a funeral, in place of cheering her? " He rose,
moved to the girl, who rewarded him with a wan smile.
" Madeline," he said very softly, " grieving is of no use.
What is, is. You must be made more comfortable. I will to
Captain de Celeron — demand possession of your father's
goods. He may not refuse me. And do the soldiers dare lift

3o8 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

an eyelash toward you, I — though no longer an officer — will
speedily turn teacher, and my lesson will be hard to forget.
Besides, little one — " Here he hesitated for a full minute,
and the girl listlessly nodded to show she understood. ' 'Twill
not be for long — this betrothal of ours. I am old — very
old. Past three score years and ten, by — " and he laughed
loudly. " If I told you how many, you would consider me
gran'pa."

Again she nodded, as though not personally concerned in
the matter. Grief absorbed her. A soul cried out for one
glimpse of a dashing young fellow, lying condemned to death.
Just one touch of his hand; one loving glance from eyes that
smiled merrily, even though their owner was dumb, would have
lightened her load of sorrow. Then, thought of her father
came to mind. And numbness seized a brain bewildered, sick-
ened by thought of a future to be spent with the man at her
side. She rose, silent, walked to the window, staring outside,
where a gloomy sky shrouded the brilliant sun. Fit emblem,
she thought, of her life to come in this world, that seemed
without one hope to lighten the present darkness of a brooding
misery.

The old man looked at her for many moments. And the
bare matter of fact would strike home, she was selfish at heart.
Not one word of sympathy had he received ; not one kind word
for protection, costing a degradation intolerable. Wistfully
shaking his grizzled head, in silence he moved down the long
room. And the noise of his stumbling footsteps sounded to
him as the last walk of one condemned to an undeserved scaf-
fold.

At the door he turned, seeking one glance from her, but her
white face was pressed close against the pane, and he knew
she thought of the man in the " pit." With a bitter sigh he
moved on; walked slowly across the stockade, and in passing
the near completed guardhouse, his ears burned with the wit-
ticisms of the laborers.

" Ha, my ancient friend," sneered Jules, descending from
the roof to plant a six-foot burly body in his way, " how is the
betrothed this fine day? Does she come to hand, like a wife? "
And the evil sneer roused all the ready devils in the heart
of the old man.

" Out of my path," he said savagely. " Stand aside. To

A NEW FOUND WEALTH 309

your work, you hunter of Indian women and stealer of cheap
virtue."

A roar of laughter greeted the sally. An angrier roar is-
sued from Jules. Maddened by the jeers of the crowd, he
ran, seeking to grasp his man by the middle. Sergeant Pere
was too wary to be caught by a novice in the art of attack.
Swaying his lean body on one side, he leaped into the air, plant-
ing with deadly force two heavy boot heels in the other's face.
And Jules suddenly lost the desire to fight. He fell, bleeding
and senseless, to the ground.

"Do any others seek a mouthful of blood?" the old man
asked viciously. " If so, I will oblige them. Do you think,
because I have lost rank, I have lost the art of being top dog,
I will wait to correct your error. Not one of you, e,h ? " he
sneered, as the fellows returned to work. " Name of a fish,
I will show you a trick of my Paris days, learnt ere I came
among cowards, to forget the sight of an honest man. To
your tasks, you hounds. — That should rouse the courage in
you. I am but a common soldier. Come on ! " But not one
moved toward him, and with a diabolical grin he resumed his
way.

Peche greeted his appearance with a dubious air. The
Corporal was not quite sure of himself. " Where is the Cap-
tain ? " he was asked, and the question brought a scowl to his
unwashed face.

" In his quarters, I suppose," he answered slowly, adding
quickly, " I will have you to understand, a salute is necessary
when next you address me."

" Salute — ah, I forgot, but will remember. I have seen a
time, Monsieur Peche, when your bare back was saluted in
another and more painful manner."

The Corporal turned livid with anger. " One word more,"
he stuttered, " and I will hand you to the guardhouse in no
easy fashion."

The ancient one smiled bitterly. " No doubt, no doubt ;
but where is Captain de Celeron? I did not come here to
quarrel — "

" Then keep a respectful tongue in your head," came the
snarl.

" I will, as I say, but pray inform me where our officer is.
What I am to do. What did he command ? "

3io THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

" That I remain in charge, here. — Gave me rank, and
orders to that effect."

" Well, a word in your ear, Peche. I would not be over
sure of that same rank. The Abbe may return — Brother
Alonzo, likewise. You may find both in opposition to such
promotion. As for myself — an they do, my term of service
expired yesterday. I will demand a court-martial from the
first good gentleman. He may see eye to eye with me. So
take care. He may also have something to say to the man who
hounded his secretary to a painful death. I overheard a pretty
history not long ago, Peche — a tale of a priest, a robber, and
a flogging. Father Picquet may take you in hand, even yet,
Corporal."

The features of the other turned a sickly green color. He
dreaded the very mention of that illustrious name. Besides,
what precious tale might not this devil of a disrated sergeant of
foot relate, if the Abbe did return? One never knew exactly
when and where to find him. Possibly it would be well to
soothe this ancient old fool. Let him have his way — that is,
an he did not ask too much. The storehouse was too choice a
treasure to be spoiled by hastiness.

With a would-be smile of apology, he raised his eyes from
staring on the ground. In a harsh voice, seeking in vain a
cheerful smoothness, he said, " I have naught against you, Pere,
that is, naught save the matter of two hundred lashes. That
in the way of duty. Why seek to fasten a quarrel on me?
Captain de Celeron is in his quarters, as far as I may know.
He left me to go there."

"What have you done with the secretary?" the old man
asked, looking about, and his companion turned swiftly aside.

" I had him buried in the cemetery," he growled, as though
ashamed of such action. " Two of the men hammered together
a rough coffin. He was in it. He was my only brother,
and — and I could not bury him like a dog."

" Name of a fish," came the astonished exclamation, " but
you are a queer one, Peche. You would have cheerfully mur-
dered him with a dirty bit of steel, yet when he is dead, you
hesitate to place his body in good clean earth." The old one
pursed his lips in a soundless whistle, while his companion
turned to the shelves, surfeited with a rich treasure of skins,
that were never to reach a proper owner's hands. " I am off

A NEW FOUND WEALTH 3"

to the Captain," he said by way of good-by, and Peche nodded,
silent, glad to be rid of an unwelcome visitor.

" He is the funniest fish of a man I ever had misfortune to
set eyes on," he said, moving to his late quarters. " Murder,
tears over the victim, burial for a hated brother at the last.
He is a marvel — a proper wonder. I am astonished at such
kindness." Then he had added cause for astonishment.

The sound of a husky voice, very much out of tune, raised
in a song whose ballad was none of the choicest, greeted his
ears. Through a corner of the window-pane he saw his officer
seated at a table, with head covered by a cap rakishly on one
side, busily engaged in pouring mugful after mugful of rum
down a throat, whose greediness had emptied a large bottle
standing in full view.

" Again ! " he muttered angrily. " Again at the cursed
liquor. And to think! 'tis but a few nights gone, I saved him
drowning in the vile stuff. Well — while he drinks, he may
plan mischief, but will have little wit to execute it. 'Tis, per-
haps, as well after all. 'Twill give me a small opportunity to
match my brain against his. Me, his dry nurse! Ah — well
he grins best who comes out on top."

Thoughtfully, he retraced his footsteps to the guardhouse,
to come on Peche, extraordinarily busy, selecting the finest
skins in stock and sorting them to bundles of neat size.

" You are busy," he said dryly, and the other faced about,
looking into two keen eyes taking in all he was doing. " Does
Captain de Celeron think to send them by land to Mount
Royal?"

" Nay, nay, but a man must find occupation." And a most
suspicious frown gathered on the forehead of Sergeant Pere.
Never until this moment had he heard the Corporal express an
overwhelming desire for labor. " A man must busy himself in
such a spot."

" There is such a thing as being too busy — that is, with the
goods of other people."

A dull-colored resentment flushed the crafty face. " Aye,
there is," the thin lips said. " There is indeed, but I have
my orders."

" Of course they must be obeyed then. But how they will
reach the Intendant at this time of year puzzles me. The
lake too rough and the roads none of the best. Well, well,

3i2 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

Peche, you know best." Then to come at the subject next his
heart, the old man asked, " What of the prisoners, have they
been fed?"

Peche, glad indeed to change the subject, assumed a would-be
sympathetic air, that sat ill on his ugly face. " Poor fellows,"
he said. " They must indeed be hungry. I know naught of
them, though. No orders were left with me." Here he
grinned malignantly, adding, " That is, as to their feeding.
The young one hangs in the morning, that much I know. Ex-
act at sunrise is the order." And his companion turned the
color of new fallen snow.

" At sunrise ! " he echoed vacantly, and again Peche grinned.

" Such was the command," he said. Not that he cared the
value of a string of beads what became of either man. His
great desire of the, minute, to prick an ancient enemy; the
next, to be left alone to loot the storehouse and escape at the
earliest, safest moment. He was quick to see his arrow had
not been shot at a venture. He repeated with venom, " Yes,
poor men, they hang one after the other at dawn."
, He was almost careless as to anything but the getting away
in safety to enjoy much luxury. Now that the brother he
hated was dead and buried, nothing remained to keep him
chained to a spot so dreary, save the improbable chance of
vengeance on the head of this old fool, who would persist in
coming to interrupt. And what was vengeance compared with
loot ? As to the girl — Mentally he snapped a finger.
There were hundreds of fine women in New France, too ready
to run at the raised finger of a moneyed man, as he would be.
Besides, she was given to weeping, and tears soon spoiled
beauty's smiles.

" They should be fed, of course," he said, " though 'tis only
waste of good victuals."

" Are you sure, Peche, you heard aright ? "

Again he scowled. Impatiently answered, " Certain, as that
the sun will rise to-morrow." And Sergeant Pere threw out
his hands to prevent the room closing, trap-like, about two
people, as its walls seemed too anxious to shut him in. " They
hang with the sunrise."

He turned to go, with, " Who is to keep an eye on the men ?
Captain de Celeron is — "

" Drinking, you would say? Oh, I know of it." Laugh-

A NEW FOUND WEALTH 313

ing loud, Peche ended, " I know, I know." For the occupa-
tion of the Captain fitted in well with the purpose of the
Corporal.

" There is little to howl at, if such be the case. And you
in command should be paying more attention to men than to
skins," the old soldier said gruffly, and Peche laughed the
louder.

" Perhaps. But, how would you like to command them ?
Eh? I dare not go. I am ordered to remain here."

"Is that your order?" came the quick question. "If so,
I will obey you."

" Well, then, the walls for you, the storehouse for me.
Equal division of labor. Men to you, skins to me." Here he
attempted to lay a hand on the other's arm, hurriedly avoided,
by a man who was in no mood to be friendly with a scoundrel
he suspected of planning a robbery.

" I need no one to show me my duty," he said angrily. " If
you, senior in command, as you say you are, command me to
the walls, come and say so, otherwise the men will not obey
me — that is, after yesterday. Come on," he said eagerly.
And the Corporal obediently followed at his heels.

" Attention ! " he shouted loud, as they reached the gang of
men. " This man, Pere, takes command by my orders, in the
absence of Captain de Celeron — who is — indisposed." Sev-
eral of the men grinned because of a shouting voice, reeling
off a well-known stave. " I say our Captain is indisposed, that
is enough. Pere takes command. See you obey." Then he
swung about, almost raced across the sand, not even waiting to
see how his curt order was received, so anxious he was to re-
turn to an evil occupation.

The old man flung a bitter curse after his flying heels.
Several more he directed at the soldiers and laborers, who
suddenly stopped grinning, turning with an eagerness to their
tasks. For a few moments his anger spent itself in a venomous
relation of their individual histories as he knew them, and his
own opinion thereof. His manner intimated a full intention to
occupy the position Peche had raised him to, suddenly, and
most unexpectedly.

" Name of a fish," he muttered, " but I am a disappointed
man. Here have I hugged to my heart the delusion that Ser-
geant Pere, the man, was obeyed, when 'tis but the name and

314 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

title commanding respect." Then the thought of the prisoners
in the " pit " came to mind. " Ten million devil fish, but I
am grown old. I near forgot them altogether. I must find
a way to feed them while I hold authority, which will be a
bubble soon pricked, when De Celeron ceases singing and com-
mences to talk to me."

He moved to the cookhouse, demanding broth and bread
and meat on the instant. The cook forgot the military usage
of Fort Toronto in supplying one of the soldier's demands.
For some time the two were busy making ready for a famished
pair, whose appetites had been sadly neglected.

Down in the gloomy prison of the outpost Norman McLeod
and his stranger lay in absolute ignorance of passing time and
the startling events accompanying its swift flight. Not a soul
had come near them. And both, though silent, thought they
were completely forgotten. The store blankets provided for
the comfort of the younger man, on a former occasion, had
been eagerly utilized. But the coverings that should have
kept both warm were soaked with moisture from the wet earth
on which they had lain, and the clammy, wet folds served to in-
crease a miserable imprisonment.

Since the previous noon, not a morsel of food or sup of
water had come their way. A slow starvation seemed in
store, adding to the torture of iron fetters on one and the bite
of tough deer sinews, binding the limbs of the other. During
the long dark hours the storekeeper crouched, his mind filled
with apprehension for the safety of a daughter. Desperate
efforts he made to release himself. Only after his bleeding
lips refused to soften the thongs about his wrists, did he give
up the many attempts.

" Francis ! Francis ! " he called, for the silence began to wear
down his nerves. " Francis, are you there? " No reply came
to his straining ears, and he fell to cursing the author of his
undoing, in language beyond ken of the wise and reasonable.

Then, a blinding stream of light closed his blinking eyes,
and the red face of Sergeant Pere appeared, while the trap
door above fell back with a thud. " Below there," he whis-
pered. " Stand from under. I am coming down." And
in a moment he was on the floor, feeling room for his feet,
for his hands were occupied with two large baskets. " I would
an earthquake came to fill up this hole," he muttered, as he

A NEW FOUND WEALTH 315

struck flint and steel to light a torch, that flared crimson on
the scene. " And I would that same quake swallowed the
man who dug its rotten space."

He was busied for several moments in freeing the two.
They, after repeated rubbings of hands, arms and feet, slowly
rose, eager to hear his news, and how he came to be in position
to loose them to a momentary freedom. " Oh, the little fellow
is at the bottle," he replied briefly. " He is busy bathing his
wits again."

" May they drown forever," McLeod rasped out, and this
time Sergeant Pere did not reprove the wish. " How is my
girl?"

Closely observed by his companions, the old man found some
difficulty in answering calmly. " Well — but anxious," he
said slowly, and both heaved a sigh of relief. " Anxious for
each of you — of course, I am caring for her, the best I may
under present circumstances."

Birnon clasped his hand with fervor — the other was oc-
cupied in holding a bottle of broth — and McLeod smiled ap-
provingly between huge munches of a large venison sandwich.
" She said you would prove the best friend we had at this
place," he said with his mouth full, and the younger man
nodded energetically to show he agreed.

" Did you know wThat I have done," the old one muttered
indistinctly, " you might both change your minds. My throat,
in place of my fist, might receive a squeezing from the youngster,
was he aware of it." But his mumblings passed unnoticed,
and from the expression on his features, the two divined he
was in trouble, but put that to his coming to themselves. Mc-
Leod, knowing his peculiar character, finished another huge
sandwich, washed down with a swallow of wine, ere he broke
in on his taciturnity.

" Now, Sergeant," he said, " give us the news." And the
old man scowled, thinking how to say enough but not too
much.

" I am to the ranks," he muttered half ashamed. " Through
no fault of my own, as you should know — 'twas De Celeron's
whim. Then he drinks deep, leaving Peche in charge. He,
the scoundrel, promotes me, and — there you are. That is
how I am here." He ended, with not one word of his be-
trothal to a girl, or a reference to the death of the secretary.

3i6 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

Those facts he left until later, to become apparent to a father. —
The other — well, the Corporal had said he was to die in the
morning, first of the two, and he would know soon enough.
" I have sent Senascot for assistance. Pray God he reaches the
doctor in time."

McLeod grasped his hand, wringing his fingers until they
ached. " You are a friend indeed," he said with a suspicious
drop in his voice. " Madeline will be well cared for, thank
the Saints." Then, swiftly, "What is to become of us?"
And Sergeant Pere found great difficulty in framing a reply.

" You stay here for the present," he muttered, turning to
climb the ladder, a weight of sorrow on his shoulders robbing
his feet of their usual swift movement. " Pass up the blankets.
I will have them dried. I dare not let you up — but to-night
I may come again."

They did as he requested, after a repeated shaking of his
hand. " I will not close the trap down tight," he whispered
from above, and without waiting for answer, stole off to his
own quarters, cursing the man he sought.

He still remained at table, but his body sprawled across its
littered top, sloppy with the dregs of many drainings. His
singing hushed for a time, for his face was hidden in the
sleeve of one arm, whose gilt and lace showed wet with rum
stains, and his loud snoring penetrated to the ears of the watcher
outside.

" Poor devil," he muttered, pitying the wreck of so fine
a specimen of French authority. " Bah ! what do I say of
him ! He that would treat a girl and father so ! " A sudden
hatred of the man came to take pity's place, and he muttered,
as he moved to the storehouse, " I wonder if I might serve her?
I trust she is better. I am growing old for too much sorrow,
but I must serve her, come what may."

He entered the storehouse to discover a man busier than he
ever had been in all the days of a wasted life. " Be careful of
overexertion, Peche," he laughed; and as the other turned,
red faced with alarm, " What of the Indian maid ? Is she
looked to?"

" I am not nurse to her," he growled. " I cannot wait on
a woman. I have other more important matters to attend."

" So it seems. But, she must have attention, yes ? Would
it not be well that Mademoiselle come here for a time?"

A NEW FOUND WEALTH 317

" Oh, aye — aye, aye — suit yourself," came the vicious re-
ply. The Corporal wished the intruder anywhere but in
Heaven, but was afraid to voice his wish. " Have it as you
please. The Captain may but order her off, if he wakes to
find her here. 'Twill not be my fault. You must take the
consequences."

" Thanks, Peche," the old man grinned, pleased that a pri-
vate place of rest was at hand for his little one. " Thanks,"
he said. But Peche only growled something about meddling,
and turned to his labor, lost on the Sergeant, hastening to the
guardhouse.

In a very short while, Madeline, entering by the back door
of her father's apartment, was supplied with everything she
needed by him, who, as he turned to leave her in possession,
paused with, " Bar the door, child. I shall sleep in the outer
room — that is if Peche be willing." As a troubled look
came into her eyes, he added, " I will make him so. Have
no fear, little one." Then he hurried off on a Good Samaritan
journey, to the two prisoners in the " pit."

The young girl sighed as he left her. She noticed, he
seemed grown many years the older, and conscience whispered
of brutality.

" He is good, and kind — " she murmured, " but, he is not
Francis." A sense of shame stole on her, swift and remorse-
less. " I have not said one word of comfort to him, for all
he has suffered — and — and he did not wish to marry me.
'Twas Ambrose. All his fault." Then she busied herself
with Rose of the Hills, unconscious, lying white and silent, as
one dead. " I must be kind to him. I will," she murmured,
and her lips moved in a prayer to the God devout Christians
find ever ready to listen to supplication, even if in His greater
wisdom, He seems forgetful of reply.

But the old soldier, unaware of the kind thoughts on his be-
half, again returned to worry a much worried Corporal.
" Peche," he said, " the guardhouse is nigh completed. Have
I your permission to place the prisoners there for a last night? "

" Place them with the devil, for aught I care," snarled the
angry, badgered man. " I am busy here. Have I not told
you, 'tis your place and business outside ? " Then he added
anxiously, " What of Captain de Celeron ? "

" He is drunk as any Missassaga after a dog feast. Will

3i8 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

not stir for hours. I will place him in bed — " After a
pause, " Shall I ? " And receiving an absent nod for reply,
a tired old body hurried to the " pit," ere a change of heai
should be experienced by the crafty Peche.

A new difficulty was to be thrust on his already overbur-
dened shoulders. A crowd greeted his appearance with in-
sistent inquiries for Captain de Celeron, or someone who should
pay for work well and truly performed. Jules, with black-
ened features and puffed lips, voiced painfully the general de-
sire.

" We have finished," he mumbled. " The task was hard.
We now need our pay, either in trade or money. Come, tell
your officer — we must be moving northward at once."

" He is indisposed," the old man said slowly, to gain time,
and a squall of thunder-cloud looks greeted the announcement.
" But to-morrow, or say the next day, I will arrange payment
for everyone. In the meantime, you will find provisions in
plenty, with a few barrels of wine needing dry throats. To
the cookhouse. I will order that you be well cared for. A
day or two lost here will not make much difference."

A lusty cheer arose from the crowd, who followed the old
man like sheep do the shepherd, to a cook, who, when informed
of the extra work to be thrust on his shoulders, was inwardly
ready to be butcher. But he said nothing to the orderer of
good things, who in his turn was anxious to be off, that he
might assist the two in the " pit." Only, when a lean back
was turned, a cook's voice rose in lamentation.

A few words served to acquaint the prisoners of their
change of residence. As they climbed the ladder, both cast
many an anxious glance toward the storehouse. Closely noted
by their silent jailer. " Now," he said, crossing the threshold
of the new building, redolent of spruce and cedar, " this is a
trifle better than the place you have left, if 'tis but a change
of prisons. Listen ! our little Captain is drunk — there is no
other word to express his condition. Were he common soldier
like myself," he winced as he spoke that word, " he would be
beastly drunk. As 'tis, he is an officer, and is but indisposed.
So, have no fear he will come. Should he venture, keep close
and quiet. Blankets I will bring, firewood in the morning.
There are enough odds and ends to warm you this night — and,
by the way, here is a flint and steel. You must do with what

A NEW FOUND WEALTH 319

you have eaten for supper. Good night. I must be off."

The two grasped his hands warmly. They fancied they
knew how much he risked in helping them. Little they were
aware of what he had already parted with in their service. But
without a word, he turned, padlocked the wooden door, cross-
ing the deserted inclosure, with quick feet to his quarters,
where he swiftly undressed his insensible officer, sighing as he
blew out the candle, after throwing a blanket over him.

The gloomy day had given way to a most gloomy night.
Loud shouts of riotous revelry from the soldiers intimated how
the men were all employed. Not a single sentry was visible
on the walls, and this most glaring breach of discipline, caused
a scowl to gather on his face, as he stood in the deserted stock-
ade. " Name of a fish," he said aloud, " but what a chance
for the British. 'Tis a good thing for New France, they do
not suspect our condition." But he did not seek to overwork
his slight authority. Hurrying to the entrance, he carefully
barred the huge gate, then, with some trepidation, entered the
storehouse, to find Peche eating a lonely, but plentiful supper.

" I have locked them in the guardhouse," he said, as though
reporting to a respected superior. And Peche smiled absently,
for his mind gloated in fancy over the approaching good times.
" To-night, I stay here." And as another nod followed the
first, he took himself off, to munch a biscuit. Then, throwing
a heap of skins on the floor, outside the door of his betrothed,
he lay down to sleep.

" While I lie here," he muttered, pulling a large pelt close
about his ears, " he may steal skins, but he may not steal her.
I know he is disturbed at my presence, but — name of a fish,
what do I care what he likes?"

Then he composed himself to sleep. And in his slumber
dreamed he was the younger by some twenty years; that his
betrothed seemed to find much pleasure in his company. And
in his sleep he smiled. The god of the quiet hours is a very
wizard where poor mortals be concerned. In his wonderful
realms stranger things have happened than that an old man
dream a girl in her teens delight in the presence of a scarred,
worn-out, tired, old sergeant of foot!

CHAPTER XXIX

ANCIENT HISTORY

WHEN Sergeant Pere opened his eyes the next morning,
he rose and immediately repaired to the quarters of his
officer. There early as it was he discovered the young man,
again far gone in liquor, lying on the floor half dressed. He
tried to rouse him but without effect. And when later in the
day — for he would not leave his side — he attempted to
point out the folly of continuing such a course, was roughly
ordered to mind his own business. That night he sat at his
side, until sleep overpowered his eyes, and when he returned,
discovered his officer absolutely insensible, drunk as any sot
seeking the short road to a debauched death.

The following days moved on in dull fashion. The old
one perplexed to discover who furnished the liquor. He sus-
pected Peche and taxed him openly. Though when taken to
task the Corporal strenuously denied his guilt.

" Well, Peche," the Sergeant growled, " he gets it from
someone. You say 'tis not you, and I would be last to give it
him. There are but the pair of us. One must be a liar. I
leave it to you, which of us. You of course are in command
and there is much to do. These trappers must be paid. Will
you see to that? Do so, then. We cannot feed them forever
and they are anxious to be gone. I leave it to you."

He strode out, leaving the Corporal to grin, and that worthy,
after some haggling with the men, sent them on their way north.
Then dull monotony settled down on Fort Toronto, for not
an enemy came to alarm them, and Sergeant Pere began to
breathe more easily. The idea of a British approach was but
the imagination of his officer, he thought. Jealousy had
prompted the suspicions of the young man. That was it.
And he resumed his ordinary avocations, undisturbed by Peche
in the command of the men. For the Corporal waited but the
first snow to vanish with his loot, that he had ready packed in
bundles to bear off with the assistance of one or two tried
braves of the Missassagas.

320

ANCIENT HISTORY 321

The prisoners remained in the storehouse, freed from im-
mediate fear of death, and their position was not altogether un-
bearable. Though each desired to be away, they were in-
formed by Sergeant Pere that at the present such journey was
impossible. He was hard put to it to explain his reasons, but
managed to satisfy them. Madeline and her patient remained
unmolested, cared for by a devoted, busy slave.

Many times had he tried to persuade her to visit her father
and lover in the guardhouse. Each occasion finding the girl
more than ever determined not to yield to his wish. And he
became much thinner, more ancient in appearance, and most
feeble in walk, unwarranted even by advancing years and
the worry attendant on his peculiar position. For he began
to realize that, to the present moment, his sacrifice offered on
the altar of love and honor was worse than useless.

The two prisoners often talked to him of the advisability of
instant escape from a place so dangerous. The leaving of a
debauched commander to the tender mercies of an insolent gar-
rison. But, two difficulties lay in the road of that flight. Rose
of the Hills fast failed in strength; to move her slashed body
was to hasten her end, and, the old soldier discovered in the
depths of a foolish heart a distinct aversion to the desertion of
an unworthy officer. He knew, the instant he himself de-
serted — Fort Toronto would itself become a deserted waste.

" Name of a fish, McLeod," he said angrily one day, when
they had talked an hour, " the way is open to you three. Why
not go? I must remain. I could not leave him to starve."

" You are a soft-hearted fool," his companion exclaimed.
" You know I would not go and leave you alone to settle ac-
counts with him." And Francis Birnon — whose mouth was
none the worse for its recent damage, save for two faint scars
visible on either cheek — shook his head. He viewed the world
through eyes whose gloominess pictured all things a drab color.
He could not understand the continued absence of the girl he
loved. Why she had not immediately sought him out, and
why not a single word of comfort had reached him, through the
medium of Sergeant Pere.

He, every morning, made new excuses for her non-appear-
ance, and to the father, even, most remarkable silence. She
was much occupied with care of a sick girl ; dared not venture
from her side; trusted they were both well and comfortable.

322 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

But no message of love was sent to the lover. All these, he
glibly repeated, but no word of his betrothal passed his lips.
In fact, he rarely mentioned her to them, and when he did
his choice of words was most respectful. By no means the
endearing terms a betrothed ancient should have used to a
charming and youthful promised wife.

One gray afternoon, when the heavy clouds of a somber
sky shed soft flakes of down to carpet the sand inclosure, the
three sat about a leaping fire kindled on the stone hearth of the
new guardhouse. The flames roared madly up the wide clay-
chinked chimney, sputtering wrath on each tiny visitor from
above, venturing down its capacious mouth.

" A bad night on the lake," McLeod ventured, as the dull
pounding of heavy waves on soft shingle came to their ears.

" Bad as I ever heard in my two years' of outpost duty,"
Sergeant Pere remarked, sucking hard at a pipe that refused
comfort to the smoker, while he thought of his patient left to
the mercy of Peche, the next four hours. ' 'Tis bad," he
ended. But referred to the condition of a senseless man, not
to the live seas that swept the shore of Lake Ontario.

" Had it not been for just such storm, I had come safe to
Oswego," Birnon said gloomily, and the old man pricked up
his ears.

"Then you are British?" he said quickly, and the other
started.

" Not exactly," he answered slowly, " though my mother
was of that land. I was born at New Rochelle." And it be-
came the storekeeper's turn to start.

" New Rochelle," he muttered ; " well do I know its
streets." Then sighed heavily, lowering his head on a broad
chest, giving himself up to reflection the most gloomy.

Birnon rose hastily. Came to place a hand on his shoulder.
" You must know my home, my grandparent — Jacques Birnon.
You knew of me, or thought you did, that day when the
Indians brought me in." And the shoulder the young man
touched heaved convulsively.

" I was not sure," he muttered. " But your father — if you
be grandson of old Jacques — he and I were close friends in
the old days, ere I — '• His voice trailed off into silence, as
his eyes stared into the fire.

"I wonder, are you the man I am sent to seek?" Birnon

ANCIENT HISTORY 323

exclaimed. " His name is Rene de Laudonniere."

McLeod jumped to his feet, sweating at every pore, while
his old crony muttered something wicked under his breath.

" I am that man," he said with difficulty, " or rather, I once
bore that name. Years gone, aye, bitter years gone by." Then
he clutched at the wall, and Sergeant Pere assisted him to a
chair.

" Steady, Storekeeper," he muttered. " Naught is gained
by excitement. Hear the lad out."

" I know. I will, but those lost years. Those lost years,"
came the trembling answer from two white lips.

Again the younger man placed a firm hand on the shoulder
of the burly storekeeper. " Do not grieve," he said gently.
" Madeline and I will make up every moment to you, when
we come to the house of my grandparent." He ended, some-
what despondently, " That is, if we ever do."

Sergeant Pere whitened to the lips, bit them until they
reddened. While he lived two young people would never
know happiness. He was the stumbling block in the road to
wedded bliss. The thought that the girl he worshiped could
never be wife to the other and younger man — her pride would
forbid denial of a betrothal, openly admitted and sworn too,
to save honor — that thought was bitter. Much more bitter
the knowledge that only through his own death could she taste
life with a lover.

Suddenly he said, to change the subject, " Would it be well,
we hear why our friend came? Of late I have been so busy,
I have had small chance to gossip."

McLeod nodded. His mind was back in the past, and a
tired brain needed time to leap the chasm of wasted years.
" Aye," he said, " 'twill keep us from thinking." And his
ancient crony disagreed silently, but nodded quickly.

" My history is of small value to any," Birnon began quickly,
" save to my grandfather, who pleases to say he loves me. I
was, as I have informed you, born in New Rochelle, in the
house of my grandparent, Jacques Birnon, the Huguenot trader
to New France. You must have heard of him. My father
was a soldier — I never saw him. My mother died in giving
me to the world. But I had father and mother both in the
person of my only living relative. For if there was thing I
had not, 'twas an impossibility to procure it.

324 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

" While my grandfather traded to New France, I resided
with an old nurse, and my thoughts were always of him and
his wonderful voyages. With the ardor of boyhood I longed
to do as he did, but he, of course, said school, and there I proved
but a dull scholar. The air and freedom of the countryside
appealed more to a roving mind than the restricted air of
schoolhouse walls.

" At last came the day when learning and a youth were to
part company forever — at least, that is what I thought. But,
seeking to serve France as a soldier — my dear grandfather's
wish — I was much mistaken. You see, I was not of birth,
was forced to join a ranker. The influence of my powerful
relation, great indeed, not sufficient to obtain a commission
that would have eased my military footsteps. Under Marechal
Saxe, I was at Lawfeld — I had not joined in time to be present
at the battle of Fontenoy — was seriously wounded, invalided
to New Rochelle, where my grandfather, just returned from
a voyage, frightened at my near escape from death, implored
me to relinquish the thought of glory on the field."

He paused for breath, and the old Sergeant sneered, '' Glory!
Name of a fish, but 'tis scurvy reward for danger — at least
I have found it so." And Birnon, nodding reflectively, con-
tinued :

" That is how it may appear when one is old," he said with
dubious air, " but I was young. Enthused by duty. 'Twas
hard to do as he desired. However, he was then on the point
of leaving for New France; said he greatly desired company,
and the prospect of visiting strange seas and stranger lands
reconciled me to resigning a cherished dream — that of wield-
ing the baton of a marshal of France."

" Ah," sighed the old man, " I, too, had dreams in youth of
just such rank. — See where old age has caught me ; b^t par-
don, my friend ; proceed. I am interested."

" I had made some five voyages in all to New France,"
Birnon went on, " and the wonderful country charmed my
soul. I desired to remain — become explorer, but my grand-
father was aging fast, and wishing me to carry on his business,
when he should have grown too old, I was compelled as a mat-
ter of duty to sail with him. One thing I may say, everything
possible was rm'ne; his one desire, to please me. To while
away the monotony of the days, he would relate to me stories

ANCIENT HISTORY 325

of the years when he was but a poor peasant lad, living on the
estate of his patron, the Comte de Laudonniere."

The storekeeper winced at the mention of his once power-
ful house; with difficulty repressed a groan, but composed him-
self to nod a desire to hear further, and the young man con-
tinued :

" His people had been on the place for many years," he said.
" But, in '85 the Edict of Nantes was repealed, and the De
Laudonnieres were forced to fly. To England they went, and
he related of his rising to be steward of the estate, on which
he remained in precarious safety. But, he also mentioned, that
he never failed to remit monies every year to his former kind
friend and patron."

" True," muttered McLeod, " the payments never ceased.
That is how I met your father, Birnon — how we came to like
each other, how we fought in the same ranks, until he was
killed by a stray shot. God! how I loved him."

" So my grandfather said," the young fellow said in a pleased
voice. " Then, one of the De Laudonnieres — was it you,
monsieur?" and as the other nodded slowly, "the last of his
race, growing tired of exile, returned to France, obtained money
from my grandfather, and much against his advice, set out for
the Court at Paris."

" Aye, I did," McLeod said, rising to unsteady feet, " I did,
imbecile that I was. Set out for the Court, thinking to regain
my patrimony; besotted idiot was I even to dream the spend-
thrift Louis would part with money he had need of to furnish
his woman with means of extravagance. I came to Paris, gained
the ear of Cardinal Fleury, became his secretary — was his most
trusted servant, until — a woman came." He laughed harshly,
passing a trembling hand across his eyes, that seemed again to
see those mad days. — " She came, and two hot heads loved
her. Two fools fought for her. One died at the first
thrust, under the very window of a King forbidding the duello
within the city walls. The other, arrested instantly, was flung
into a dungeon. There he lay, until escape was connived at by
the very woman for whose sake he fought — she having in
the meantime married another, and tired of him. Oh, great
indeed were the morals of our day in that Paris. I, assisted by
your grandfather, escaped her polluted lips, to reach the shores
of New France — becoming the man you see before you —

326 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

Norman McLeod, the storekeeper of Fort Toronto — the fool
father, thrust into prison by command of an insolent youngster,
who seeks to bring ruin on an only daughter. Of a truth,
am I not a blind, besotted, miserable fool ? "

He sank into a seat, covering his face with both hands, and
for the moment silence descended. Again the young man came
to his side, laying a strong hand on his shaking shoulder.
" Then you are indeed the man I seek," he said softly, " and
father of the girl I love. Will you hear my message, mon-
sieur? My grandfather urges — nay implores that you return
to France." Then he added softly, " What happiness lies in
store for us at New Rochelle."

Sergeant Pere sat silent, the image of a man robbed of all
his moving attributes. His lips white, his face the color of
gray stone, his heart groaning inwardly with agony. Thought
of the bitter news, soon to fall on the astonished ears of his two
companions, robbed his limbs of movement, and he heard the
younger man say, as though assured of his proposal:

" Of course, Monsieur, now that you may assure this Cap-
tain de Celeron of who, and what I am, there will be no
further delay here," and he staggered to his feet, as McLeod
replied eagerly, shaking hands with his pleased young dis-
coverer.

" Of a certainty he shall not detain us one minute the longer.
Madeline will be the happiest woman alive."

Both men quite sure, that she, if not accompanied by an in-
dulgent father, would depart in safety with a devoted lover.

The old man staggered toward the door, groaning, while the
two stared surprise. The thunderous crash of the door banged
into place, roused Birnon, to say, " A queer old fellow — this
soldier. Can it be he is angry? Vexed, because of your de-
sire to leave? Surely he would not have you and Madeline
remain."

" No — " replied McLeod, with some hesitation, " but he
loves my daughter." And his companion frowned.

" Anyone may see that much," he said shortly; to add slowly,
" of course he will accompany us? "

" He will not leave until his officer recover. I know him
too well — inclination never interferes with plain duty where
he is concerned."

" I think him foolish to wait punishment. That is all he

ANCIENT HISTORY 337

will receive. Of course, as you say, if duty prevent him — "
A frown crossed the face of Birnon. He was a trifle jealous of
this old fellow. None were to love his sweetheart, save him-
self and a father. The father, even, not parade too much of
sentiment in that womanly direction. " Well — thank the
good God I have discovered you, Comte de Lau — "

" Hush ! " came the interruption. " That name were best
whispered, until these shores be leagues astern."

" What need to fear any in this land, monsieur? When you
read the message I am sent — "

" What have you? Is my duel forgiven, my escape for-
gotten ? Quick ! " The storekeeper grasped his companion by
the shoulder, shaking him violently. " Haste, do you know
what it means to live in the shadow of death? " And for an-
swer the other sat down, picking industriously at the seams of
rotten garments, whose frayed edges had well concealed their
secret.

"There! Read — read a pardon for past offenses," he
laughed joyously. " Obtained by my grandfather ; signed by
our late Sovereign Lord, Louis XIV, of Gracious Memory."

A blind grasp of the parchment, an attempted reading of the
stilted characters, by eyes dim with moisture, followed. Un-
able to believe his vision, but hugging the precious pardon to
his breast, the one time storekeeper fell back in a chair, and dry
sobs shook his stalwart frame.

" God ! God, I thank Thee," — his muttering, repeated at
intervals, while his companion smiled a kindly understanding of
an emotion foreign to a man usually taciturn to a degree.

"You will have no objection — to, — to a son-in-law?" he
asked with evident hesitation, and the other smiled.

" How could I, when he is a man after my own heart? How
could I, when my only daughter loves him dearly, and why
should I? Why?" Birnon grasped his hand with delighted
satisfaction.

"When may we seek the commander of this place?" he
asked eagerly. " He dare not detain us — now."

" He shall not," came the fierce answer. " I will show
him, just who and what he is — now." The last with a bitter
smile.

" I would I had come straight to you," Birnon said with
eager voice. " Much misery might have been prevented."

328 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

" Had I followed a first impulse to speak, all would have
been well," the other muttered. ' 'Twas my fault, but I hesi-
tated because of Madeline." Then he added curiously, " How
came you here? I thought to have buried the Count de Lau-
donniere beyond hope of resurrection."

" I heard of a French storekeeper at Oswego. Grandfather
had news of such a man. He being most anxious to carry home
with him in the last vessel of the season the descendant of the
family to whose kindness he says he owes much, promptly dis-
patched me there."

" Oswego lies some distance from Fort Toronto," came the
dry response.

" As I was like to find to my cost. A terrific storm fright-
ened my Indians — I had two. They sought to land, as we
were off our course. A mountainous wall of water swept us
from stem to stern, and in a moment I was buried beneath the
depths. How I escaped to land, I know not."

" 'Twas fate — blind fate," the other muttered ; " or, Provi-
dence."

" Aye, or I should not be here. When I recovered my
senses, I lay on a sandy beach, with all lost, save a battered
birch-bark. My Indians, drowned. I scrambled to my feet,
peering over a bank, and there saw you and Madeline, return-
ing to the Fort. I feared for my life, knowing what awaited
a stranger without papers of identity in New France."

" Ah, well you came near hanging, Francis — but, thank
the good God, we have little now to fear from any here."

Then they fell to talking of the future; of vine-wreathed,
sunkissed France. Of home, the sweetest word in a language
composed of sweetest sounds, and the happy hours fled to join
those of a miserable yesterday, neither giving one thought to the
old soldier, who had been savior of each in turn, as they sat
contented in the comfort of the firelit room.

To each appeared the satisfactory ending of a misery, hard
borne, but a greater problem remained to solve. Would the
pride of a girl, her honor saved by an open betrothal to an
ancient, allow of a betrothed being set on one side ? Those two,
ignorant of that event, were exceeding happy. Sergeant Pere
was not so sure. He, of all men, knew Madeline McLeod.

Outside in the blackness of a howling gale he stood, fighting
down what he termed a selfish desire to live. The one thought

ANCIENT HISTORY 329

insistent, happiness for her. To free her slender person from
the tie, binding faster than iron fetters. He knew she would
not accept his offered freedom. Yet, he also knew himself a
tired old man, who could not be wanted — a man much bet-
ter dead, if he desired peace and happiness to approach a young
girl, who loved a younger, but never, a better man.

" Name of a fish," he muttered with blue lips, while the wind
buffeted his bones, and screamed dismally in stunned ears, " what
a fool is man. He would play Providence, to receive but pun-
ishment from the power he would usurp. I thwarted a stern
man — clever in his way. I outwitted an officer of New
France — a fool of the first water, so there was not overmuch
in that, but — " and here he groaned — "I could not over-
reach my destiny — fate, Providence, what you will, was too
strong for me, a common soldier of New France."

Then he fought his way to the very edge of the lake, whose
frothing reached his boots. Stood silent on the deserted beach,
gazing blindly out over storm-tossed waters, whose raging was
but the poorest imitation of the stormy passion of his own
greatly troubled soul.

CHAPTER XXX

HOW PECHE USED HIS KNOWLEDGE

/CORPORAL PECHE stood within the storehouse, a
V>| frowning scowl on a narrow forehead, black anger in his
wicked heart. Curses, wild ravings, streamed from his thin
lips, as the whistling of the gale and the hollow roaring of
a wind-lashed lake reached his anxious ears. The howling
easterly wind, hurling tons of water, hissing, snarling, pounding
on the beach, meant to his anxious mind a further delay to a
plan of immediate escape from Fort Toronto, looted of its
most valuable treasure.

" Fiends seize the wind," he muttered, counting with gloat-
ing eyes the many bundles of skins lying at his feet. " Such
plunder rarely fell to a soldier in time of war, never in times
of peace. My fool Captain drunk," — here he laughed con-
temptuously — " meddling Pere bewitched by a woman who
has no eyes but for a spy — and yet I may not go. Was ever
such foul luck to a moneyed man, who needs but opportunity to
ruffle it with the best ! "

Up and down the uneven boards he tramped, stopping to
peer out at intervals into the blackness, again turning away,
to curse with renewed fury. His movements, those of a wild
animal ceaselessly making the rounds of an iron-barred cage.

To travel by canoe — his first intention — offered the
easiest, safest mode of escape. To attempt an eastward jour-
ney, over rough trails through dense forest, an undertaking he
though a desperate man, had no desire to hazard. To wait the
first snow-fall he could not. And then those Missassagas. He
cared not to trust them too far. To tug a heavy sled alone,
a labor his ease-loving body rebelled at strenuously. To the
danger of remaining, was the greater danger of discovery as a
thief.

He sweated as he tramped. At any moment an officer
might come from Fort Niagara. Gales, storms, heat, or any
of the thousand and one difficulties of travel in those days
would not prevent such monthly inspection. Whoever was

330

HOW PECHE USED HIS KNOWLEDGE 331

detailed for duty would come. And none knew the day of his
coming. — Last of all, those of the outpost to be inspected.
And he, the robber, scattered the sweat of fear from his fore-
head. He found himself between the devils of the wind and
the deep blue waters of a tossing lake. On the horns of a
dilemma, that might toss him skyward, a rope about his neck,
swaying, kicking, at the end of a misspent life.

" Flames of hell," he muttered, " 'tis a cursed hole. I should
go mad, were aught to interfere with my schemes. Even De
Celeron may wake while I am absent — Pere come at any
moment — 'tis near his time." Thrusting arms into a gray
bearskin coat, pulling his cap close about his ears, he stepped
out to the night, and was blown bodily across the stockade to
the room of the man he sought. " I am first," he muttered,
moving cautiously to the bedside, standing for a quiet moment
to note if the sleeper stirred. Then he stole to the other end
of the room, pulled from his pocket a small vial. Commenced
with careful, cautious hands to drop the liquid contents into a
cupful of cold broth.

" Sleep ! " he muttered with an evil grin. " Sleep ; there
is enough in this beauty to send all here to the other side —
and perhaps, 'twould be a good plan ! " For a moment the
idea appealed strongly to him. He hesitated a long while,
then shook his head. " They are all fools — but I should take
to the bottle myself, did I murder them with its contents.
What a future has he who possesses knowledge, and the wit to
use it."

A gust of wind startled him. Stooping, he hid the cup
under the bed, moved to the window, with white face and
nervous expectation of a visitor. Not completely satisfied, he
seated himself at the bedside, assumed an anxious air, but kept
his eyes centered on the door, through whose width he expected
to meet Sergeant Pere. The fool had crept up that way before.
Tried to come in at inopportune moments. He sneered, as he
thought of the wasted efforts. For a long time he remained
quiet, lost in thought of what he would do when that cursed
lake ceased pounding.

He was, as he had truly said, the possessor of knowledge.

When Captain de Celeron, drunk and incapable, had been
placed in bed, he had seen one more opportunity thrust in his
way to become a moneyed man. That, to keep his officer in

332 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

a continued state of stupor. When the watches were divided
between himself and Pere, and his fellow nurse was absent,
down the throat of his patient had he poured as much liquor
as would disappear. — That, by no means a stinted quantity.
But an end was put to such dosing, by the openly stated sus-
picion and deliberate taxing of his own hands with furnishing
such doses. And he was at his wits' end to further prolong a
stupefaction, necessary to successful robbery.

That is, he was until he sought the library of his memory.
There, folded down, almost forgotten, remained a page of
youthful learning. Soiled, that recollection of a medical train-
ing at Three Rivers, by associations with others of a trade not
beneficial to health. But, the course of materia medica com-
manded by Holy Church had been his. A training necessary,
where the cure of a native body ofttimes procured a native
convert to Her arms. To Peche's knowledge of Christian
drugging had been added gradually — and principally, because
such knowledge gave him much power — the information of
savage poisons, and their effect on the internal economy of
those whose early demise was necessary and greatly desired.
That page caused a laughing to seize him; grip him lustily in
a devilish merriment.

To a Missassaga hag he hied himself one dark night. Bought
her silence, and a potion at the same time, with a few pounds
of sugar. Then in secret triumph he returned, and the silence
of Captain de Celeron, so puzzling to one of his nurses, is ex-
plained.

So much for the knowledge of the Corporal.

Now, he was most careful to administer small doses of his
means of slumber. Not the slightest desire had he to add one
more murder to an already overburdened soul. But he did
desire to escape with his loot. To do that safely, Captain de
Celeron must remain senseless, and in that stupid state did he
remain.

Sergeant Pere was more than puzzled. A stupor caused by
liquor should have passed away the moment of the stupefied
one's awakening. The reek of rum was plainly evident to his
keen nostrils. He entered the room at odd times, in the hope
of discovering who brought that rum. But he never caught
the culprit. And his officer slept continuously, as though the
spirit of sleep commanded obedience, and would take no denial.

HOW PECHE USED HIS KNOWLEDGE 333

Peche was crafty as a fox. He said, when taxed with the
offense of pandering to a depraved taste, to account for the all-
pervading smell of liquor, that he preferred to drink alone;
that he had little time in which to enjoy a small tot, and that
his scanty ration must be the cause of the reek. Sergeant Pere,
scowling, accepted the excuse. Never so much as dreamed the
other possessed sufficient knowledge of narcotic herbs and their
uses. Never once thought the man would dare use such das-
tardly means, were they ready to his hand. But he little knew
Peche, though Peche thoroughly understood Pere.

So much for the wit of Peche to use his knowledge.

He had not moved for many silent minutes. Lost in thought
of the magnificence to be his when he reached Mount Royal —
pelts were in great demand and how they were come at, none
of the buyer's business, provided the seller asked not too large
a price — he smiled, forgetting his nervousness. Then, an-
other furious gust of wind startled him to life, and with a shrug,
he reached for the cup under the bed.

" Now, baby-face," he sneered, " nurse must feed you." He
raised the head of the patient, was in the very act of pouring
the mess down his throat, when a harsh voice struck his ear,
and the cup fell, rolling across the boards.

" Why rouse him, Peche?" Sergeant Pere asked, backing
against the door to close it, while the wind strove to burst in.
" Why rouse him? " he asked, curiously this time, for the face
of the other was ash gray.

"I — I — " he stuttered ; then near shouted, " What in the
fiend's name prompts you to steal in on me as though I sought
to poison him ? "

"Well — did you?" came the half humorous question, and
Peche who saw little humor in the situation, tried hard to re-
cover his composure.

" Poison ! " he said with a ghastly attempt at a laugh.
" Poison ! " he repeated, succeeding in producing a cackling
noise in the back of a dry throat.

" You need rest, Peche," Sergeant Pere said quietly. His
companion was shaking in every limb, and he saw no good
reason, save a guilty conscience. He added dryly, " You look
as though you had seen the devil, and hot company had seared
your cheeks to a whiteness that will never redden again. Are
you ill?"

334 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

"111! Nay — but, but poison?" And he stammered the
word, again trying to laugh, though the sound was as a skeleton
rattling fleshless jaws. " Poison," he repeated, and the Ser-
geant stared.

" Poison, I said," he jerked out harshly. " You harp on
that word as though you intended the act. Did you? Did
you ? " he demanded, as suspicion stabbed deep he had inter-
rupted an attempted tragedy. " What sought you to give
him?" And he ran, seized the cup, turned it upside down to
allow a last few drops to trickle on his tongue. " Damnably
queer," he muttered, and the other shivered. " What in the
name of your master is it? Answer me, damn you. Answer
me."

Corporal Peche started as though to avoid a blow. He found
himself staring into two hard-set eyes. Eyes that made him
shudder. He stammered, " 'Twas but a herb — a harmless
herb. I have some knowledge of medicine — slight knowl-
edge. 'Twas to do him good." His lips were hot with fear
of detection. The steady glance centered full on his gray
features was hard to endure. " I sought to do him good," he
repeated lamely. But his companion knew he lied, and a roar
left his wide mouth.

" Do him good ! Do him good ! Murder him, you mean,
you hound," he blazed out. " Oh, I know of your tricks in
the storehouse, robber scoundrel that you are. You vile thief,
who would murder a brother, but had not the courage to face
a rope. Have a care. Have a care, I say, or I will call the
men, to throw you into the ' pit,' and I will take care you
await his awakening."

Peche stood for a moment, seeking to regain breath. His
tongue was sticking fast to a palate dry as sand, and for a mo-
ment speech refused to come. " You — you would accuse me
of poisoning my own officer? " he said in a weak voice. " Of
murder?" Then, the thought there was no proof of his in-
tention mastered emotion, and he said angrily, " You, too, have
a care. Take a real care I do not order you into that ' pit.'
You — you, who are but a common soldier, under my com-
mand."

Sergeant Pere, crimson with rage, went suddenly the color
of chalk. Much as he suspected, he could prove nothing. The
man might, indeed, have been doing as he claimed. And he

HOW PECHE USED HIS KNOWLEDGE 335

might also command the soldiers — who would fast enough
obey — to arrest a disrated sergeant, insolently accusing their
present commander of attempted murder. And Peche, crafty
ever, was keen to note his hesitation. Read confusion on his
scarred features. Jumped at the chance he would remain si-
lent, for the sake of a liberty that would protect a betrothed.

" Take care," he blustered, courage returning at the dismay
pictured on the face of his companion. " You — you —
thing." Then, unable to trust himself longer, he hurried from
the room, leaving behind him a wondering, anxious old man,
staring at a silent figure on the bed.

" Flame of the devils in all hell," he muttered, once outside
in the darkness. ' 'Twas a near shave, a narrow, narrow
shave. Had I not dropped the cup, 'twould have meant — "
He violently vomited ere he could finish the sentence, so greatly
had dread of discovery worked on a nervous system, harassed
by more matters than murder. " Ugh ! " he muttered with
chattering teeth, as soon as the spell was ended and the store-
house quietness was reached, " I must have a drink." He
gulped a huge quantity, ere he satisfied nerves shattered by
coward fear. " I was near at my wits' end for excuse," he
growled, scattering drops from a forehead creased to many
scowls. " This night's work makes me more than ever anx-
ious to be gone."

For hours he paced the creaking boards, turning this way and
that for plans of instant flight. Not a single solution of the
problem could an excited brain discover. Suddenly, the rum
he drank caused his foul tongue to break out into horrible curs-
ing, directed at the person of his ancient enemy, Sergeant Pere.

Madeline, in the next room, aroused from slumber by his
noisy trampling, crouched against the door, panic-stricken;
frightened nigh to death by the frenzy of a man, who might
burst in on her loneliness, passion in his drunken brain, horrid
purposes in his wicked heart. Hour after hour she listened,
clutching the wood with slender fingers, whose attempts to
secure a frail door were painful to intensity. Then, at last
a reeling brain gave way. And she sank fainting, bereft of
motion, to lie across the threshold of the room her living body
would have defended to the last degree.

While Sergeant Pere had stood at the lake edge, dreadful
thoughts of self-destruction clamoring at his ears, across his

336 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

mind flashed a vision of Peche, waiting for relief by the bed-
side of a sleeping man. " Name of a thousand devils," he mut-
tered, " — and surely many be flying to-night — the Corporal
will think I mean to take a night off. I must to him, in place
of waiting like a dying fish longing for return to water. At-
tention, you fool ! " he said aloud, roughly and with anger ;
" what is — is ! I did what I considered my duty. What may-
mortal man do more? Some way will be found out of the
difficulty. It shall be — must be."

Then he turned, fought his way back to the Fort against a
gale that hindered every movement. Entered suddenly his
quarters, to come on the man he sought, engaged on an evil
task. The excitement of the moment restored all his deter-
mination to face matters to the bitter end.

" Name of a fish," he muttered, " but 'tis a queer world —
a most queer crowd of animals walking its queerer ways.
This Peche, now — I wonder what he sought to give you."
And he walked to the bedside, to stand looking down on the
silent figure he addressed. " I would give much to be sure
he intended silencing you forever — but, I would that doctor-
priest were here. I liked him little when he was, and now I
would give ten years of life for one moment with him. What
to do?" He stood thinking; then, "I wonder are you ill or
drunk? If you could but speak."

For a long while he paced the room, uncertain just what
course to pursue. Again, after the manner of men in lonely
places, speech came to his lips.

" Would the Saints you awoke," he said with a deep sigh.
" If you would but say one word, one word that would restore
me my rank, matters should soon be in their places, and that
rank robber in the * pit.' As 'tis, I dare not say too much or
he will thrust me there. What to do ? "

His tired feet paced the boards in restless fashion, and for a
long while the only sounds were the raging of the gale out-
side, and the steady creak of complaining wood beneath his
heavy tread. And the patient lay still as the hours of yester-
day. As little likely to return to existence as they, by his
present death-like appearance. Then, an inspiration flashed
across the mind of the old man.

" I have it," he said eagerly. " I will set a watch on my
robber acquaintance. The youngster — he shall do sentry go.

HOW PECHE USED HIS KNOWLEDGE 337

'Twill not hurt him. Peche may take fright at my talk, may
seek to go. If we catch him in the act — then, name of a fish,
then I shall know my duty."

Quietly he moved to the bed, bending an ear down to the
lips of the sleeper. Cursed the wind for the noise it made,
because its roaring interfered with the sound of the faint res-
pirations he eagerly desired to hear. " He will not move," he
muttered ; " if he does, I shall not be long away. I must leave
that to chaflce. I would watch, myself, but Birnon will be
more eager." With a jerk he straightened his lank form, to
run out rapidly across the stockade.

" Wake ! " he shouted, shaking the nearest man at hand.
And as McLeod happened to be that one, " Wake, I say. Are
you both dead? Name of the devil, what do you blink at?
Listen — you, Birnon, I have much to say, and little time in
which to explain what I want done." Aided by rapid ges-
ticulations, he at last succeeded in explaining what he wished.

Both men stared their surprise at the diabolical contortions
his features took on. The storekeeper, shaking, his head in
doubt as to the looting of the storehouse by its guardian. Age
had crept fast on him the last few painful weeks. His once
clear brain was dulled, and three or four times he muttered
doubtfully of the proposed course. " How can he set out by
water?" he muttered. "A fool would hesitate with the lake
in such condition." But the other, younger, was all on fire to
take up a watching, that might bring his longing eyes one
glimpse of a divinity; one nod of a well-shaped head, to ac-
knowledge his presence.

" Of course I will," he said eagerly. " At once." And was
starting out, but the old soldier stayed him.

" Steady on, youngster," he grinned, " 'tis no night to be
abroad in the garb of Adam, and you wear not much more at
the moment. Throw a blanket round your shoulders." Bir-
non, with a humorous glance at his frayed garments, through
whose gaping rents the red and white of a clean body showed
at every movement, thankfully accepted the covering placed
carefully on his broad back.

" I shall be merry as a knight under his lady's window," he
said, with a pleased smile. For he was of romantic disposi-
tion, and his coming occupation, of a nature to rouse fire in the
blood, " The knight and his fair lady," he muttered to him-

338 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

self. And Sergeant Pere, indistinctly understanding, caught
him up sharply.

"Night," he said, scowling; "you may well say so. 'Tis
as black as the mouth of hell with the fire out to give poor
sinners a rest. I wish 'twas day ; 'twould be the better for our
purpose. Come on." With the other at his heels, leaving
McLeod in the warmth, they set out. " A cursed state of
affairs," he said to the young fellow. " Not one soldier on
the walls. A pretty puppet am I grown in my ol£ days, when
I may not prevent such condition in a military outpost."

They struggled to the unguarded entrance, where with a
brief command to his companion that he keep watch and not
fall to dreaming of a girl, who was without a doubt safe in
bed, the old soldier hastily returned to the side of his officer.
As he passed the cookhouse, the sound of snapping wood at-
tracted his attention, and he opened the door, peeping inside,
where the yawning cook, waited half asleep by the side of the
clay-bricked oven. " Awake yet, cookie ? " he asked, greeted
by a snoring sound, that savored of a desire of sleep.

" Ah, Sergeant," was the drowsy reply, " you may well say
so. I am kept from my bed by the wild animals you call sol-
diers. Bah! Soldiers. Brutes — they eat and drink enough
for two men each. I boil coffee for them to bathe their throats,
or they swear to cut me up with my own knife in the morn-
ing. A fine task I am set."

" Bath ! — bathe ! " the old man said slowly, as though some
wonderful thought penetrated deep. Then he added thought-
fully, " I wonder would a bath do De Celeron good ? I have
half a mind to try it. How much hot water have you ? " he
suddenly demanded of the cook, staring in fear. " Haste, you
nameless idiot, how much, I say? Is that filled?" he added,
pointing to a huge caldron seething a warning of boiling over.
And as a nod followed, " Here, assist me with it to my quar-
ters. Now, keep a silent tongue, but do as I say. You may
ask questions afterwards. I am in no mood to be fooled with."

The alarmed cook seized one handle of the steaming vessel,
his companion the other, and together they staggered off with
the boiling weight. The cook was at first alarmed. Later he
was horrified, for the old man, after first cooling off the water,
proceeded to Captain de Celeron, and calmly stripped him of
his night clothes.

HOW PECHE USED HIS KNOWLEDGE 339

" Come on, fool," he said savagely. " I am going to bathe
him in that. Oh, you may scrub it out after — those pigs
will never know different. Quick, now. In with him, while
'tis hot." And together they carefully immersed as much of
the naked body of their officer as would go into the boiler,
rubbing him with hands, none too soft. " Did you think I
intended scalding him ? " as the cook breathed more freely,
finding he was not expected to be present at a murder.

" I thought — I do not know what I thought, Sergeant,"
he said, scattering sweat from his forehead, in an atmosphere
clouded with steam. " I was at a loss to understand, but
now," — here he sniffed meaningly — "a small drop of liquor
might assist."

" Having laid violent hands on the body of our commander,
you now desire to drink his health, eh?"

" Well — " The cook hesitated, and the old man handed
over a bottle procured from a secret receptacle.

" Here, empty it, if it pleases you," he said. And, as the
best part of a pint disappeared, " He should live long whose
health you drank that time, cookie. Now, off with you. Take
this kettle thing, and see you lose no time in making ready
plenty both to eat and drink, or the men will pork you, as
you do the pigs in the autumn. I know them; they be a bad
crowd."

" First, we had best take the contents out of it," the man
replied. And lifting the still senseless man, his body streaming
water, out of the improvised bath, they wrapped him in a
blanket, again rubbing him from head to foot, until the arms of
each were near sore as the man they rubbed. " He should
do now," cookie said with pride, and his companion nodded.

" Aye, he should — Now off with you to your quarters.
Yes — you may as well take the bottle for all there is in it.
Good night." And the delighted soldier disappeared, hugging
to his sweating chest the easement to a parched throat.

Sergeant Pere lost his smile when the door closed. Throw-
ing a blanket over his shoulders, he sat down to wait the effect
of somewhat stringent measures, taken with a man whose dis-
ease — if it was a disease — was unknown to the healer.
What would be the outcome, he wondered? Would life ever
come to those silent lips? And as he pondered over the mat-
ter, his patient opened his eyes.

340 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

" Where am I ? " he asked in a feeble whisper. " Is that
you, Pere?" Then, seeming satisfied, turned over slowly, his
face to the wall, and once again departed to the land where
speech is not a vital matter.

" He seems to understand who I am," the old one muttered.
" But what I do here seems no concern of his. Now, what
will he do when he wakes? Hang the youngster, send me to
the ' pit,' throw in the storekeeper, for company, and — then
what?"

He stared at the silent sleeper as though to command an-
swer. But none came. Destiny was ready in his place.
Harsh, the speech on her lips. The hour in which she spoke,
to bring a world of sadness on a tired old man, who sat star-
ing at nothing, wondering what was to follow his attempted
cure of a youngster he had sought to fashion to a man.

Peche was also keeping watch, not on a man, but on the
weather. His restless feet drove him every now and then to
the door, his eyes anxiously turned to the sky, where the flying
scud in parting showed a glimpse of blue. " Fortune smiles
at last," he muttered hoarsely. " The wind surely dies down,
though the lake roars loud. I may not set out this night, but
I may prepare." He grinned,, as he gloated over the bundles
of costly fur at his feet. " You, my beauties, shall be hidden
in the forest — near the shore." And stooping, he lifted a
pack to his shoulders, moving cautiously to the door, to step
softly on the wide stoop.

With keen glance he swept the stockade. A glimpse of
darker shadow, within the arched entrance, caused a curse to
rise to his lips. Hastily retreating inside, he threw his load
on the floor, ransacking his brain for a plan to elude that dis-
appearing shadow.

" Ten thousand devils," he muttered, " that old meddler is
on the watch. May Satan seize him. The fool, to think he
may prevent my going. Name of hell, I will beat him yet."
Creeping to the rear window, silently throwing wide the case-
ment, he leaned out to observe if any watched its opening.
" Now," he chuckled, " I will drop them outside — he cannot
see from where he stands — throw them over the wall, and in
the morning — Ha, my old ancient, the night of the morning
shall see me well on the road to Mount Royal."

At the coming of dawn, the storehouse was denuded of the

HOW PECHE USED HIS KNOWLEDGE 341

trade of months. Outside the walls of Fort Toronto lay many
bundles of pilfered skins at the mercy of the first passer-by.
But the thief was well aware few would pass that way. The
Missassagas lay in their tepees, deaf to robber noises, sleeping
off a debauch purchased by unusual labor. As for the garri-
son, they to a man were not in much better condition, and
Corporal Peche, determined, when they did awake, not one
should stray, while he was in temporary command.

Then he stole to the door, cautiously widened a narrow
crack of opening. Scowled when he saw who had occasioned
his night-long labor. " You,'* he muttered ; " I will soon put
an end to your rambles, my fine young spy. That is, if I
have authority here — and I think T have — at least enough,
to last me over one last day."

He chuckled as he sought a breakfast, his mind set on a
speedy departure. But had he been blessed with the power
of reading the future, that moment would he have seized on,
to fly from the Fort, while a safe opportunity was granted
to his heels.

CHAPTER XXXI

SERGEANT PERE LOSES HIS TREASURE

A WEAK dawn struggling through horn-paned windows
found a nurse half asleep at the bedside of a patient
lying with wondering eyes that stared about, seeking to dis-
cover a present whereabouts.

"Where am I? What is the trouble, Pere? Is all well
within the Fort ? " And the unexpected questioning caused a
tired old soldier stiffly to rise, saluting the officer he never
expected to recover.

" Yes, my Captain," he replied stammering, " you — yes,
you have been ill."

" Assist me to rise," came the haughty command. " I do
not understand this weakness." And his sub hastened to obey.

Captain de Celeron swayed, as his feet met the floor. His
actions, as he hurriedly commenced to dress, nervous, irritable;
those of a man at a loss to account' for a weakness foreign to
accustomed strength. When, at last having shaved with
scrupulous care, he donned a proffered coat and walked to the
doorway, to stand staring, as though something important had
escaped memory.

"Why do I lie here?" he asked suddenly. "And since
when?" Then with great excitement, "Where is Mademoi-
selle McLeod?"

"You were brought here — " the old soldier commenced, a
sudden fear gripping at his heart. But was rudely interrupted.

"Ah! I remember — after that cursed spy attacked me. I
remember now." Between teeth gritted savagely, " I swore
at sunrise he should swing, and he shall."

Sergeant Pere stared. His officer placed this gloomy morn-
ing to follow the day of a tumble in the storehouse. The in-
tervening space of many days, their startling passage a blank
in the book of memory. " He must surely remember the death
of Ambrose," he thought, but the next hot question proved be-
yond doubt Captain de Celeron was absolutely ignorant of the
present state of affairs at the outpost he commanded.

343

SERGEANT PERE LOSES HIS TREASURE 343

" Pay my respects to the secretary," he said quickly, almost
stammering in an eagerness to express meaning; jumbling his
words, as though concentrated thought was difficult indeed.
" Say to him, his authority may find no excuse for one mad
enough to venture a blow on my person." As the other gaped
open-mouthed astonishment, " If he hesitate, bring him here.
If he dare refuse, I will show his clerkly wits who is master
in this place. Begone, fool. Are you deaf? What ails you?
Am I ever to be cautioning you on your leaning toward the
enemies of New France?" And he made an irritable step
toward a horror-struck man, standing, for the time deprived
of all power to move.

He stood, breathless, with not the slightest intention of
what to do. His lips moved in a silent prayer, that Senascot
had gotten through to the doctor, and that they two were near
at hand where one wa's most desperately needed. Then, the
weakness of the Indian, the howling fury of a gale lashing the
lake to mountains of mad water, stabbed memory, and with
blanched face, fear gripping his stout heart, he understood all
Nature seemed against the realization of his intended purposes
to bring two loving hearts together.

"What do you dare mutter? Do you hesitate at my
order? " he heard an imperious voice say at his ear. " Begone!
ere I turn you out to mount guard. Bring this proud secre-
tary to me at once. I have many affairs to which attention
must be given, besides the hanging of a spy." He ended, a
puzzled light in his eyes, that stared out to the newly shingled
guardhouse; the green logs seemed sorely to bewilder a weak-
ened mind. " When was that built ? " he asked quickly, turn-
ing on his sub, watching him closely. " Are you not gone
yet?" he demanded in the same breath, and Sergeant Pere
hurried off.

" Bring a man from his grave," he muttered, once clear of
the room. As he stumbled across the sand, " What in the
name of Dieskau, shall I do with him? 'Tis a certainty he is
not yet recovered. Name of a fish, but that crafty-eyed son
of Satan has much to answer for. Curse him and his dosing.
I would I might give him a taste of his own brew. Peche!
Peche ! " he called, hammering on the door of the storehouse.
" Within there." And the Corporal, pretending to rub sleep
from his eyes, answered his call.

344 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

" What in the name of the Evil One do you want? " he said
in surly fashion.

For a full minute his companion stared him straight in the
face. " Our Captain is awake," he said slowly. " In his
right mind." And the guardian of the storehouse staggered
back, one hand upraised, as though to ward off a threatened
blow, his face turning the color of dirty snow.

" Awake ! " he gasped. " Awake ! "

" Aye, and you had best open store, or he will be after your
hide. He is in no sweet humor, so beware."

The two regarded each other in silence. Pere, full of a
sense of coming trouble; Peche, angered beyond description,
because of a precious loot lying unguarded, and now, in all
likelihood, never to be his. The old man, watching keenly,
was now quite certain who had supplied the means of silence
to an officer. " You will be busy explaining your attention to
the skin trade," he sneered, and with a grin passed on to warn
Madeline that Captain de Celeron was once again wide awake.

Peche, left to himself, first swore roundly; secondly, stopped
to think. And his thoughts were most unpleasant. His of-
ficer, sane, was a different power to deal with than when he
lay senseless and unable to dispute the introduction of nauseous
doses to a helpless stomach. " Name of a million devils," he
muttered, feeling nervously at his throat, "what must I do? "
Then he sat down to think, but the vision of a swaying rope
with something suspiciously resembling his own figure dangling
at one end interfered with cool, collected reasoning.

The old soldier tapped lightly on the closed door, where lay
his betrothed, and in a moment she appeared. " Made-
line," he said quietly, "he is awake — at last. He may come
here — I thought to warn you."

She shivered. " He has been very ill ? " as her companion
shrugged.

" Yes — if you may call the outcome of rum swilling an ill-
ness. But there is worse to follow, child. He forgets much
— seems only to remember that day in the storehouse, when
Francis tripped him and he swore to — " He hesitated, and
she, white-lipped, shaking like a leaf, completed the sentence.

"To hang him?" came her whisper. "Hang him? To-
day. Oh, God ! Not that, not to-day." Then she burst out,
"Why does Brother Alonzo tarry? Why does he not come

SERGEANT PERE LOSES HIS TREASURE 345

to prevent this most horrible murder? Oh, Sergeant, Ser-
geant, where can he be?"

She seized his hands, holding them with a force, causing the
old man to stare. His mind was filled with bitterness. How
helpless those hands to protect her. She, his betrothed, for
whom he would have cheerfully sacrificed life, honor, any-
thing— everything under the sun — called upon another.
She, for whose sake death in a wind-lashed lake, had been seri-
ously contemplated, could only moan of a priest. This Brother
Alonzo, who must come first. He, the only man on earth
who might save a lover's life. And Sergeant Pere near
groaned out loud, so great was his jealousy of the spare doctor.

" There is no mistake — Fran — Francoeur ? " she whis-
pered, watching his features for some slight sign of hope.
"None?" she added, breathless with fear, while he shook his
head, hopelessly, dejectedly sure.

" Time is what we need," he muttered. " Time," — here
his voice shook with a bitterness — " that this doctor-priest may
reach us — that is, if Senascot found him and he thought well
to set out."

The girl stared, the light of desperation in her eyes. An
idea flashed across her mind. One distasteful even to contem-
plate. One most difficult in execution. " Think you he
would come to me, here?" she said, breathing hard. "I
might reason with him — if — if he has forgotten the death of
poor Ambrose, he may have forgotten our — our betrothal —
your dismissal from authority." And the old man stared
amazement. He thought she too wandered in her wits.

"Come here?" he exclaimed. "Come here, child? He
would jump at that slight chance."

" Then say to him, I must speak with him — wish to see
him on a matter of importance." And as her companion stood
bewildered, " Haste! Haste! ere he go to the ' pit ' to discover
my father and Francis be not where he commanded them.
Haste ! " she said again, almost pushing him from the room.
Then, seeing that he at last understood, she closed the door
in his face, leaving him to descend the steps, shaking his head,
unable to fathom the depth of womanly invention, suddenly
called on to save a loved one from inglorious death.

He crossed the stockade, coming to his quarters. At their
entrance Captain de Celeron waited, a black scowl on his

346 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

forehead, anger written in every line of a white face.

" Matters go exceeding well," he snapped out. " Not one
sentry on the walls — every soldier drunk as swine Missas-
saga, and you — you who are first to prate of discipline, un-
kempt, dirty, as though from fatigue duty the most foul. How
is this? What means such absolute disregard of military dis-
cipline? "

For a moment the old man hesitated, thinking what to do.
Should he explain? Say of how long this imperious officer,
evidently not himself, had been ill? Then, he thought, ex-
planations would make matters much worse, and determined
to hold his tongue — at least for the present. " There has
been much to do, my Captain," he said. " I have hurried the
men to a death-like tiredness. You know my method? As
for my own untidiness, that arises from lack of time."

" See that matters be remedied at once," the other replied,
fumbling at his sword, as though waiting for some guidance
that would set him a right course. Passing a hand across
his forehead, he muttered, "Where is Mademoiselle McLeod?
She is well ? " he added fiercely, at the blank look on the face
of his sub. " Where is she ? " And a sweat broke out on his
white cheeks, prompted by fear of her absence.

Whatever else the ravages of illness had erased from his
brain, her image, the remembrance of her glorious face and
figure, remained stamped deep in memory. All, but her be-
witching presence, was a dark cloud, benumbing his senses and
causing him to lose dignity in questioning a fool sergeant of
foot as to her whereabouts. A question that should have been
answered by his own eager eyes and immediate presence.

" The lady desires to see you, my Captain," the old man
said slowly, and the other flashed to life.

" Why could you not say so at once, fool," he said, the
flame of desire once again glowing in his heart. " She is in
there?" he added, pointing to the storehouse. And receiving
a nod in reply, ran across the sand, to disappear up the steps,
three at a time.

A feeble old soldier slowly followed. With trouble tug-
ging at his heart strings, a sense of overwhelming calamity
clouding clear thought, he muttered, " Name of a fish, but there
will be evil work. She can never hold him in his present mood.
He is mad — stark, staring, raving mad with desire to be at

SERGEANT PERE LOSES HIS TREASURE 347

her side. God help us all — that cursed doctor, why does he
linger." Then he mounted the steps, to stand listening, wait-
ing— he hardly knew what to expect — but was certain
trouble brooded close by.

Captain de Celeron discovered a girl seated on a couch; her
hair smoothed to a hurried neatness ; her dress, hastily arranged
to order, the reverse of a mind, almost terrified with what
she was about to do. He entered, and a shudder of hate
rippled her features. Her heart beat hard within her bosom,
almost suffocating her with the force of its excitement. But
with calm demeanor she sat erect — summoned a smile to white
lips, that quivered in spite of their owner's determination to be
brave.

" Ah, ma'amselle," he said, bowing low, " 'tis indeed a
favor, you request my company. What may I do for you ? "

u You have been ill, monsieur?" she murmured to gain
time.

He nodded, breathing heavily. " So I am told," he said.
" Some days have been lost — but never my love for you,
Madeline." His burning eyes staring into her own, impressed
deeply on her mind that something Sergeant Pere had seen in
their depths. A shiver rippled her body. The man was mad !
She saw it in his passionate glance, read in his every action a
mad desire of herself. But she steeled her brain; summoned
all her woman's wit to play a part against slow-moving time.
God send her time, she prayed. Time was necessary, the old
man had said — time to save her lover from a rope. With a
tremendous effort, she mastered the sense of inability to move
a muscle; gave back glance for stare as he came nearer, em-
boldened by an unlocked for graciousness. " My love for you,
Madeline, I never, never could lose." And she bravely smiled,
even though the hot breath at her ear caused a sickening loath-
ing to overcome her figure.

Sergeant Pere, from where he stood with Peche, in the
storehouse, heard all without moving one muscle of a leathery
countenance. Only, the scar on his face turned a deeper shade
of purple, as he noted a sneer on the face of his companion.
" You grin, you thief," he muttered savagely, while the other
shrank back. " When I have leisure, I will attend your man-
ners. So take good heed to your health. You will need all
your strength, when I come at you." Then he turned his

348 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

back, to listen eagerly. He scowled, as he looked on the two.
The man tried to secure the woman's hand, and she, with a
look of horror, shrank back, as though near afraid to move.
" May he drop dead," he muttered.

" You must know I love you — worship you, Madeline."
The hot words floated out to the ears of the old soldier, and
he swore under his breath. He started, as if to run within, as
he saw his officer suddenly kneel, to seize one white hand and
cover the shaking fingers with a score of burning kisses.

" I pray you, rise, Captain de Celeron," she managed to
stammer. " Pray, remember my father — he will be so angry
with me. I beg of you to rise." And the lover, taking her
to mean he would be welcome at her side, seated himself,
caught her slim body close to his panting frame; pressed a
shower of blistering kisses on her lips whose breathing he im-
peded by the suffocating pressure of his arms. " My life !
My dearest," he said passionately, pausing in his continued
caresses. " Give me but hope, and we are the happiest pair
since Eden."

Madeline strove to release herself; sought to evade his arms
of steel. " Oh, monsieur," she gasped, " I beg of you — re-
lease me. Have pity on me. Do not seek to force my poor
affection."

" I will be patient, Madeline," he whispered, kissing her
full on the lips. " I will indeed, do you grant me one tiny
hope of true affection — that I may be rewarded as a lover
should."

He sought to take her in his arms again. To hold her
close. In a moment she started to her feet, her face flaming
red resentment. He caught roughly at her dress, seeking to
drag her down. Fear — agony of mind at what must follow
if she remained longer with him in his present mad mood,
seized her in its horrid grasp. Unable to restrain herself, a
scream escaped her lips, and she fled from the room. In a
moment he followed, robbed, as he thought, by the coyness of
a maid, seeking to enhance ultimate possession by immediate
flight. Again she screamed as she ran through the storehouse.
And Sergeant Pere, at the sound, stepped out to plant his lean
figure full in the path of her' pursuer.

" Out of the way, fool," he shouted. " Out of the way, ere
I cut you down." But the old one bravely stood his ground.

SERGEANT PERE LOSES HIS TREASURE 349

Stared fuW in the face of the man trying in vain to push him
on one side.

" Fool, I am," he said quietly. " Fool and villain both, did
I permit you to molest an innocent girl."

" To one sjde I say, imbecile. You relic of a bygone age,
dare you stop me, your officer? Out of the way, ere I cut
your vile body to inch pieces and throw them to the curs of the
Missassagas. Idiot! Fool!" He raved on, showering blows
on the head of his sub. Then, finding fists too slow for his
purpose, he tugged his sword from its scabbard, to furiously
threaten his ancient antagonist. " Have at you," he shouted,
lunging fiercely, a thrust evaded with difficulty by the other
quickly leaping to one side.

For the next few moments the storehouse was one mad
welter of flying trade goods and rushing bodies. Pursued by
his officer, up and down the narrow room, the old man had
small chance, he thought, of escape. The singing whistle of
shining steel close at his ear, sounded murder; the glare in the
eye of his antagonist warned him of a murderer's intention.
Coming to the counter, he leaped its height, scattering knives,
trinkets and a hundred and one other articles of trade about
the floor. Then, he sank on his knees, his lungs pumping air
with violence, while a long keen blade madly poked across the
slabs sought to take his life.

"Name of a fish!" he gasped, with a wintry smile, "'tis
hard to play hide and seek when one is gone in the wind.
Phew ! " as a swishing blow knocked off his glazed cap, " I
must be out of this." Then he crept on hands and knees
behind the counter, came to the end, peeped round cautiously,
to see his officer, leaning on his sword, standing statue-like in
the center of the room.

"Ha! imbecile!" he shouted; "you would fight with me
for the girl? Come on, fool, by all the fiends in hell I will
send you there to add to their number." He ran across the
room, lunging fiercely, and Sergeant Pere, attempting to dodge,
slipped, and in a moment the keen blade was through his shoul-
der. " First blood," shouted Captain de Celeron, and his sub,
turned, leaped the counter at the far end, rushed to the door,
meeting Madeline returning.

" Out of the way, child. Quick ! " he said, as she screamed
at the sight of blood streaming down his forearm. " Quick ! "

350 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

he yelled, endeavoring to push her outside. Then in one mo-
ment, a narrow steel pushed through his back, almost stabbing
her in the face, and he lurched, tried to smile, with, " Take —
take care, child," as he fell headlong, half in, half out of the
gloomy room.

A shrill scream escaped her, kneeling to staunch the blood
welling through a tattered uniform. " Oh, my dear, my dear,"
she moaned, while a white-faced man stole to her side, terror
in his glance.

"What have I done?" he whispered. " Is that you, made-
moiselle? In God's name, where am I? What have I
done ? " And the girl, even in the midst of a maze of horror,
knew him in possession of his senses.

She turned on him fiercely, while trembling fingers strove
to rip a white petticoat to bandages. " You have murdered
him," she gasped. " Murdered him, the bravest soldier in all
New France." And she frantically endeavored to stay the
bleeding; to herself, "The most devoted lover ever ungrateful
woman possessed."

Captain de Celeron dropped his sword. Leaning against
the counter, he mouthed meaningless words, but rendered no
assistance to her, whose efforts were concentrated in staunch-
ing the red flow trickling steadily from a bare, lean, corded
chest.

The sound of hurrying footsteps came to her ears. Three
figures ascended the steps, three pair of eyes took in the scene.
" What means such work, my daughter? " a gentle voice asked,
and in a moment Brother Alonzo with skilled hands took up
her task. "Who has done such deed?" he asked again, as
the crimson disappeared under many swathings of white, and
Madeline sobbed her grief.

" Oh, reverend sir," she moaned, " there has been murder
done. And 'twas he — " pointing wildly at the staring officer
— " he who is responsible. He sought to insult me, and —
and would have succeeded but for him, who lies — lies dead.
He murdered him," she almost shrieked, and the doctor
soothed her with a touch of quiet fingers.

" Softly, child," he said, with one angry glance toward the
silent author of the trouble. " We will remove the good
sergeant to some easier resting place." After a silent ten
minutes, broken only by the moaning of a girl, " I fear he is

SERGEANT PERE LOSES HIS TREASURE 351

badly injured, daughter. I will do my best, but were Hippoc-
rates here — " He shrugged, motioned to his companions,
two stolid Indians, to lift the senseless man from the floor,
and half carrying the girl, followed silent to the inner room.

She moved, numb with unaccustomed grief. The first ap-
proach of real sorrow, the death of a loved one, was near at
hand. Her soul bewildered at such unexpected tragedy.
Yet, in that misty moment, came the whisper of selfish love.
Hope, life, remained for a lover by the timely arrival of the
doctor. But, with a shudder, she thrust the thought away,
and bending down, wiped off the gathering bubbles of red
foam from the blue lips of the man who had saved her life, and
perhaps prevented, worse.

Brother Alonzo, mixing a compound from a pocket case,
strove to draw from her some account of the happenings occur-
ring during his absence. She seemed to be beyond calm con-
versation; her whole attention riveted on the silent soldier.
And he was forced to content himself with the fact, that one
man should rue a horrid deed.

At intervals during the long day, he stole on tiptoe to the
bedside of Rose of the Hills, anxiously bending over her silent
figure. And it was very plain to the disciple of Hippocrates
that two were departing in company to the land of those who
never return. He shook his head, while a tear stole to his
tired eyes, hastily brushed off, as he once again felt for a weak
pulse in the wrist of an ancient man, whose span of years was
near accomplished.

At the first touch, Sergeant Pere opened his eyes. " Where
is she? " he muttered feebly. " Safe? " Then bitterly, " You
— you — I could not be trusted alone to — Thank the good
God she is safe — now." Then he closed his eyes, and Made-
line softly kissed him on the lips.

" Oh, Francoeur," she cried, " you must not — shall not
die." And her slave smiled.

" 'Tis worth such end, dear," he muttered, and only her
ears caught the words. " I but strove to do my duty." His
eyes rested dog-like on her features, and the love in their depths
stabbed the girl deeper than a knife. " I did it for you, child,"
he whispered. And she fell to sobbing with such violence that
the doctor, alarmed for the life of his patient, gently inter-
vened.

353 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

" Restrain yourself, child," he said sharply. " Remember,
you but hasten his end." His manner was brusque, for he
realized that all the skill and knowledge of a revered master,
credited with deep understanding of the ailments of his day,
was useless to save a life, when the high gods turned down
their thumbs. " We will administer another stimulant,
child," he said, and raising the patient, he held a cup to his'
lips; while the girl knelt, holding one calloused hand between
soft and trembling fingers.

Her slightest touch seemed to restore life to his wounded
body. " You are good," he whispered, " too good." As he
attempted to swallow the draft, "Bitter — bitter, as death to
some, but not so bitter as life to one I know of." Then he
lay back and closed his eyes.

For a long hour, dumb silence gripped the room, and the
anxious watchers were at times forced to strain a tense hear-
ing for the whistling sound of his feeble breathing. Sud-
denly, he sat upright. In a loud strong tone, spoke with some-
thing of his bluff manner.

" I must speak with McLeod," he said. " Where is he,
Madeline? Something I must say — ere I go." And as his
head dropped forward on her soft bosom, a wonderful content
stole into his voice. " You are good, child. Too good — but
the room grows dark — cold and dark. Are you still there? "
he whispered. And the doctor hurried to his side.

" I will find the storekeeper," he said. " Rest easy, good
soldier." Then he almost ran from the room, for he knew
the end must be at hand.

" I have done all things for the best, Madeline," the old
man whispered, as the door closed, leaving them alone. " All
for the best." And as she commenced to weep bitter tears, he
added with a smile, " Do not cry little one. Name of a fish,
'tis much the best — that I go. Any man would have done as
much, and I would not have you weep for so old and tired a
man as I."

" You shame me so," she whispered, but the ancient one only
shook his head, a sad smile on his scarred features. He knew
the only solution had been found; the knot of difficulty cut
with a sharper sword than long-drawn time was like to use.

'Tis best so," he whispered again. But his heart was wrung
with one thought. Only through his own disappearance into

SERGEANT PERE LOSES HIS TREASURE 353

the dark valley could enter happiness for the girl he worshiped
beyond all things earthly. And he would never see it.

She had ceased to sob. Tears were such empty comfort.
Her dulled eyes glanced about the room, half dark, the
splintered door adding to the gloominess of its untidiness. She
saw the mud tracks of Corporal Peche, everywhere on the once
spotless floor. His restless feet had kicked the neat skins into
one corner, where an eyeless fox head grinned grimly at her
from the crumpled bundle. Clumsy hands had torn the clean
window hangings to fragments. Their shreds fluttered with
every stirring breath of air. These matters held her attention
for the passing minute. Then she shivered. Outside sounded,
in the close of a gloomy day, the moaning of league-wide waters,
sobbing their complaints to a red-hued sunset staining the
cloudland mountains to a riot of crimson color. She sighed
at the dreary notes. Their restless murmurs reminded her of
the fitful breathing of a man about to pass into the shadows.

She started, as heavy feet mounted the steps, and her father,
white- faced and breathless, hurried in. " What is it, child ? "
he asked. "What is it? Is he sick?" And as Francis Bir-
non, with the doctor, followed, he knelt beside the still figure
of his crony. " I am here, old friend," he said softly, adding
violently, "What devil's trick is this?" Brother Alonzo
hushed him to silence, as the patient opened his eyes.

'Tis no trick of the devil, McLeod ; 'tis a trick of the
sword that loosed my life," he said, striving to sit upright. " I
call you all to witness, my officer did not intend to kill me.
He was mad — mad. Remember, I repeat it, he was mad
when he did the deed." And the lean face of the doctor took
on a saintly expression as he heard.

1 * Greater love hath no man than this/ " he began gently,
but Sergeant Pere interrupted.

' 'Tis not for his sake I say so," he said, " but for the
honor of New France. I would not have her stained by rela-
tion of a murder." His eyes caught sight of Francis Birnon,
moving gently to the side of the girl. " I have done something
to earn a rest. Tell him — them, Madeline, when I am gone."

The three stared at the girl for explanation, but she, sitting
still as white marble, shrank back — almost as though to avoid
the lover, who turned away, a moody look on his handsome
features. Not a word came to her closed lips, and the

354 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

wounded man smiled.

" Storekeeper," he said, " leave her be for the time. She
has had trouble. She may tell you after. Listen — while I
have breath. I must speak. We have been friends for years.
I am a liar, a base liar. Never was I with Dieskau — never
was I in action in the field. I never saw Brest. Now —
now, what think you of an old friend?" Here he grasped
the coat of McLeod with violence, his straining gaze centered
on the face of his crony.

" Steady, as you caution me, Sergeant," the other replied
gently, for he thought delirium ruled. " You never lied to
me, my friend," he added with conviction. And the dying
man smiled that wonderful smile coming to those who find
one believer in the truth of friendship.

" But I have," he said feebly. " All my life, with you, has
been a lie." He waved away the glass offered by the anxious
doctor. " Nay, what need to prolong a worthless existence ?
I have no desire to live. Listen! Storekeeper, listen. I was
a — thief, in Paris. A rascal thief, whose youth was passed
among men and women the most vile. They caught me red-
handed. I was transported to New France — served my sen-
tence— joined a regiment of foot — sought — yes how eagerly
I sought — to at least become the shadow of a man. Have I
succeeded? Ah, I see you, you think so. You would not
smile, had I offended. Name of a fish, but 'tis cold —
cold — McLeod, where are you?" His head fell forward
on his chest, a look of peace settled on his worn features as he
fell back on the couch, lifeless, but seeming to have settled all
his debts with a cast-off world.

Brother Alonzo hurried to the side of his patient. A deep
sigh escaped his thin lips, that the last rites of Holy Church
had not been administered. Silently, reverently, he closed the
staring eyes, muttering a prayer for one he had grown almost
to love. Then the living claimed his attention, and he was
alert. Madeline lay full length along the floor, and with
gentle voice he whispered a quiet comfort.

" He died bravely, child," he said. " What man can do
more than die at the post of duty ? " And her father took up
the task.

" Surely, the death of a soldier, though so old a friend, should
not cause such bitter tears," he said softly, trying to smile

SERGEANT PERE LOSES HIS TREASURE 355

through a mist beclouding his sight. But she made no sign,
only rose from the boards. Her heart was heavy with the
self-blame of a murder.

She moved with listless steps outside to the night, and the
eager lover followed, leaving two elderly men with their dead,
to confer on what must be done for him, and what must be
taken in hand for themselves. And the younger, coming to her
side, not dreaming of what his debt to the cold clay, clumsily
added a world of sorrow to a heart he would have given his
life to save one grief.

" Madeline," he commenced awkwardly, " why weep so bit-
terly for an old soldier?" And she raised her eyes to stare
him full in the face.

"You can forget so easily?" she asked quickly. "After
what he has done for us? You think I should not mourn his
loss — my greatest friend in this place?"

Jealousy stabbed deep, that moment. Francis Birnon al-
most hated the silent man. " I honor you for your grief," he
said coldly, " I would not have you forget one friend, but he
was only a rough old soldier who is dead, and I — I am
alive."

" Thanks be to him," she answered softly, " I would have
you remember that."

" I do remember," he said, " and would have you remember
him, but — "

" But, Francis, you are jealous," she replied, pleased to the
soul he was in that condition, yet, even regretting deeply the
cause of his emotion. " I will tell you some day, dear," she
whispered gently. " Some day, when we are far away from
this dreadful place." And with that feminine evasion of the
present, her lover was forced to be content, for the sake of a
hoped-for, happy future.

1

CHAPTER XXXII

THE END

UNRISE found two tired men busy with discussion of

ways and means. Brother Alonzo with McLeod seated
at a table, on whose rough top guttered a failing dip candle,
had passed the night in talk. But neither could come to any
satisfactory conclusion as to why an old man had been foully
murdered.

" Your daughter, she may tell us," the doctor ventured.
" Yet, at the moment, 'tis not wise to aggravate her distress."

" I do not understand such grief," the father replied.
" Sergeant Pere was her very good friend, but — naught
more."

" I will to Captain de Celeron at once. He shall tell me,
or — " And the doctor rose, his lips set, a stern light in his
eyes boding little good to the man he sought. " I have some-
thing to say to him, he will find most unwelcome. You had
best remain, Monsieur Storekeeper. Your daughter sleeps
and one must watch her. Now — to reason with a very mad-
man."

He walked across the stockade, greatly puzzled. Inquiry
of the soldiers as to the whereabouts of their commander
brought forth the statement, he had not been seen. Where he
was, they had no idea. They had not set eyes on him since
the previous day. To a man, they seemed indifferent as to
what had become of him, but were filled with excitement, when
told of the death of Sergeant Pere. The doctor noted that
with his passing, discipline seemed also to have passed. For
the gate was closed, and not a man guarded the length of wall.

" You had best to duty," he said to the soldier who an-
swered his questions. " Your officer must be found. That at
once." And the man grinned, but slunk off out of sight. " A
pretty state of affairs," Brother Alonzo thought. Then, the
open door of the guardhouse attracted his attention, and he
walked inside.

There, crouched before the dead ashes of the yawning flre-

356

THE END 357

place, was the man he sought. " Ah, young sir," he said
coldly, " at last. Rouse yourself, I have much to say to you."
And Captain de Celeron slowly stood upright, his face white
as the wood ash on the hearth.

" Is he — is he dead? " he asked with a shudder. " I cannot
understand — " Here he passed a shaking hand across his
forehead, and the doctor frowned.

" Not one of us present in this place understands why you
murdered a brave soldier," he said quickly. " I shall be glad
to have your account of the matter. First, I will warn you,
that I come from His Reverence the Abbe Picquet, armed with
full power as to your remaining in command. From what I
have seen, his opinion of your ability was mistaken. Of
course, you understand, his authority at the moment is un-
questioned ? "

Captain de Celeron slowly nodded. At the minute, he was
in possession of his senses, though the night hour horror of his
brooding had come near to tumbling reason headlong from her
throne. Not to himself, could he justify the deed, that robbed
a man of life. One who had been to his youth, a friend and
companion, though of much lower rank and station. Why,
and what for, had he stood over that senseless clay! Why?
And the question worried his brain to mad distraction, until the
presence of this stern priest was a welcome diversion.

"Your reverence," he replied slowly, " of late I have not
been well. I know I have been sick, at least, — " a shudder
rippled his frame as a loose leaf blew noisily along the floor,
" Sergeant Pere . . . He said so — when . . ."

" What I desire to know, is, why you murdered him ? "

" I do not know," the other burst out savagely. " I do not
know. I swear by the Cross — by my hope of salvation, I do
not know ! "

" Liar, as well as libertine," Brother Alonzo said sternly.
" Coward ! You do much honor to the flag you serve."

Captain de Celeron crimsoned. One hand he laid on his
sword-hilt at the insult, but the cold stare of his companion
caused his hold to drop suddenly. The composed features of
the spare doctor wakened some measure of reason and respect
in his bewildered mind.

"I — forgive me," he stammered, " I am not myself."

" No, or you would hesitate to draw weapon upon a serv-

358 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

ant of Holy Church," came the contemptuous reply,
warned you once — I warn you again, her arm is long and
very, very sure."

" I remember, reverend sir — remember the words — "
The young man spoke impulsively, then fell silent. What
mattered mere warnings? Talk would not bring to life that
prone figure on the floor! And naught else mattered. Why
had he committed such senseless crime? Why? a thousand
times why? Then he said, as if wonder forced speech to his
tongue, "Why did I do it, in God's name? Why?" and the
face of the doctor took on a serious expression.

" Was the man shamming ignorance, to escape the conse-
quences of a dastardly crime?" he thought. " Was he, at
heart, coward indeed ? " He knitted his forehead in a frown,
slowly shaking his head. He was puzzled. Among all his
recorded experiences, Hippocrates made no mention of such a
case.

Captain de Celeron came close. " I swear to you, reverend
sir, by the Cross, by aught you please, I have no remembrance
of the deed." He spoke quietly — impressively, and his man-
ner went far to convince Brother Alonzo of his absolute sin-
cerity.

"On your honor as an officer of New France?" he asked
slowly, and the young man solemnly drew his sword, as
solemnly pressed his dry lips to the hilt.

" By this Cross, I swear," he said. " And will add this — I
know of no good reason why I killed a brave man and a good
soldier. This is my last word, reverend sir, on my sworn
honor as a French officer."

Again the doctor shook his head. " I am in the dark," he
said. " The maid may tell me, later. I dare not doubt you
after such statement, but, unfortunately, Sergeant Pere lies
dead. How he died, and why, must be left with God, and
your own conscience. At any rate, he must have fitting burial.
You must see to that, young sir. After — yes, after, I will
hold deep inquiry into the matter. If you are at fault — "

With a shrug, he turned away, silently, from the room.
With bent brows walked across the stockade. He had many
matters which required immediate attention. But the sudden
death of the old man, he respected and thought much of, occu-
pied his whole attention ; thrust for the moment into the back-

THE END 359

ground the urgent commands of a most authoritative master.
The stockade fairly hummed excitement. The soldiers, gath-
ered together in groups of two and three, loudly discussed
their ideas of fitting punishment for the murderer of their
Sergeant. Brother Alonzo, from the scraps of conversation
reaching his ears, was almost convinced the dead man must
have occupied a greater space in their hearts than he ever was
aware.

Another matter added fuel to the flames. Corporal Peche
had suddenly disappeared. Though the man was practically
unknown to the worthy disciple of Hippocrates, his frequently
mentioned name caused a dim remembrance of a shifty-eyed
fellow to rise in a shrewd old brain. He said to one, " Is this
man a soldier of whom you speak? Surely he is not also
dead ? " and the man stammered excitedly, raising an unsteady
hand to the salute.

" No, your reverence, trust him for that. He is gone —
that is all. We do not know where." Then he turned to
his fellows, while the doctor passed on to the storehouse, shak-
ing his head in wonder. Fort Toronto seemed suddenly smit-
ten with a very plague of dead and missing. As his lean
figure ascended the steps, Captain de Celeron appeared. If he
had really forgotten why he committed murder on the person
of one soldier, he most truly remembered use of a scathing
tongue to smarten the remaining fifteen to a sense of immediate
duty.

" Where is Corporal Peche ? " he demanded abruptly. None
of the men possessing knowledge to answer the question, he
shouted, " Fall in." And as they dressed into ill-formed ranks,
each individual seeking to avoid the menace in the eyes of their
officer, he added harshly, " Are you all dumb ? Fools ! " with
a gnawing at his underlip. Then he fell hastily to the order-
ing of search parties to discover the whereabouts of his only
sub, not forgetting to place a man on duty at the gate.
" Parade at five of the clock," he added savagely. " Heavy
marching order — muskets primed and loaded. Sergeant
Pere," here he shuddered visibly, " will be buried with mili-
tary honors."

The men marched silently off, and he remained a lone fig-
ure in the center of the dusty stockade. Though he had re-
sumed command, was perfectly able to attend the most trivial

36o THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

duties, the curtain of forgetfulness still shrouded the happen-
ings of the last weeks. He knew from the chill weather, the
faded grass and the withered vines about the storekeeper's lodg-
ing, much time must have elapsed since he lay sick abed. He
gnawed his mustache, thinking, wondering what had caused the
devil of murder to loose his arm.

" Why did I do it? " he said aloud. " Why? True, I dis-
trusted him toward the last — I remember that much — dis-
liked his prating of that German idiot — always. But, why
he, above all men, should have met death at my hands, I do
not, cannot, bring to mind."

Moodily turning, he walked to the storehouse. As he en-
tered, the dark stain on the threshold caused a shudder. Care-
fully avoiding coming near the marks, he entered, and the
storekeeper came out to inquire his business.

For a minute the two regarded each other with steadfast
eyes. Then, with a moistening of dry lips, the younger said,
" McLeod, speak to me. Why — why, as you are a man, tell
me, why did I commit such useless crime ? " As the other
hesitated, with stony face, evident dislike in his manner, he
addpd fiercely, " I demand to know. In the name of New
France — at once."

" Captain de Celeron," came the chill answer, " I do not
know. For the moment — while I remain in this place, I
obey you as an officer, but though you are my superior, you will
kindly refrain from anger. And this moment I must request
that you speak more softly. My daughter sleeps — is in no
condition to be disturbed. Such is the doctor's positive order."
He spoke with grim politeness, but with scarcely veiled indif-
ference as to the other's likes and dislikes.

" You may perhaps stay long enough to witness one of my
orders," came the vindictive taunt. " I may not interfere with
you or your lady daughter, but the spy shall hang. That much
I swear to. You may take him with you dead — but not
alive."

He laughed loud as he ended. Loud enough to bring
Brother Alonzo hurrying from the inner room. " Brawling
in the presence of death himself ? " he said contemptuously.
" Truly your wits stray far, though your brutality is ever at
hand. Do you know, young sir — commander of Fort
Toronto though you be — I have power to send you in chains

THE END 361

to Fort Niagara? Forward your person to face a court-mar-
*tial of officers, who would to a man turn their backs on you,
once they became aware of your shameful doings. I warn you
for the last time. Remember, you dare Holy Church now, not
two or three poor people without authority ! Take care — I
will not warn you again."

Captain de Celeron closed his eyes, to think. He paid slight
attention to an old woman priest, though, of course, court-
martials were most unpleasant. Talk was but folly. If he
could but think. Reason clearly! There must have been
good cause why he had slain the Sergeant, whose funeral had
been just arranged. Then he became aware the two were
curiously staring. The ugly look on the face of McLeod
stung his proud soul to the quick.

" I accept your warning, reverend sir," he said, politely sar-
castic. With something of his old imperious manner, " And
this man's studied insolence, that I shall not forget. Since you
have taken over command, reverend sir — though nothing of
proof has been given me to that effect — I will report to you."
Here he saluted ironically. " The firing party is ordered for
five of the clock. The man I unfortunately killed," and he
laid emphasis on the word, " in his mad attack on a superior
officer, will receive military honors at his burial. Have you
any further commands ? No ? Then I have the honor to wish
you a very good day."

With brazen effrontery he swaggered off, while the two
stared silent, amazed at such audacity. " Is he yet mad, rev-
erend doctor ? " McLeod said at last, and the lean one shook
his head.

" He seems sane," he admitted doubtfully. " 'Tis hard to
tell. From his speech — I think some injury to his brain.
Has he ever received violence from any here? Some blow to
the head ? " And McLeod turned ashy white. " Your daugh-
ter seems to possess much attraction for him. She may ex-
plain matters. We can do little without her story."

" She must inform us immediately. Sergeant Pere must be
avenged. He was always a good friend to me, though at the
last, he said strange things as to his former occupation."

Brother Alonzo smiled. " Let him rest," he said gently.
" Many a weed grows sweet flowers, my son. Whatever he
had been, he was a brave man. From what I gathered from

362 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

your daughter, he died to save her honor. She may have
spoken wildly — but he died for her sake — loved her well
enough to die for. Who of us could do more?"

" At times, I thought he loved her overmuch," came the
almost bitter reply. And the doctor, leading the way to the
inner room, followed by his companion, silently agreed. He,
though professing to love all men, had, with the father, known
the touch of jealous dislike.

They came to the rough trestles, on which, in a rough box
of undressed pine, lay all that was mortal of the rough old
soldier of whom they spoke. And both heaved heartfelt sighs
of deep regret as they gazed on the still, scarred features, whose
frown or smile, loves or hatreds, were beyond .the judgment
of mankind. They stood for several silent minutes, each lost
in thought, thinking of what they owed him. Neither was
aware of the debt, but had the father known his account, the
tear stealing down his furrowed cheek would have been as
naught, to the agony of soul his knowledge would have
brougHt forth. Brother Alonzo, of course, owed little, save
the priestly affection he freely offered to everyone. But he,
even, discovered a pang of sorrow at the passing of one who
had died to save a girl he loved.

He turned to the window, leading his companion. " We
must not disturb the maid," he said, after a glance in at her
sleeping, near white of face as her more deeply slumbering
betrothed. " Though we have talked all night, I have one
most important item to mention. You knew, of course, the
reason of my return. The Indian remains with my master,
whose side I reach immediately after my last duty is here per-
formed. Now, friend, do not start — my most important duty
here is to burn this place to the very ground."

" Burn Fort Toronto? This place! " gasped the other, and
the doctor nodded.

" Such is my order, and I must obey. I am commanded by
the Abbe, to utterly destroy by fire the Fort of Toronto, first
taking all provisions and stores from within its walls. These
are to be forwarded to Fort Niagara. You are first to know
of this. Captain de Celeron, even, is ignorant of the inten-
tion of my master. I should not have deemed it wise to allow
him to remain in command, but, as matters go, 'twill not mat-
ter now. I, who have some knowledge of medicine, deem the

THE END 363

young man mad — what his superiors may think can be no
concern of mine."

" There will be indeed much to do, then. Provisions are
plentiful, and the packs of pelts far above the ordinary. We
did not ship many to Mount Royal last year, the snow was
light and the roads bad."

" They will never journey there, my son," Brother Alonzo
smiled. " News reached my master of wild scenes at that
place — robbery and theft go unpunished hand in hand. Con-
fusion, strife — reign among those in authority — and the
British contemplate advances into our territory. The Abbe
is far too wise to furnish the sinews of war to the enemy."

" But New France outnumbers them both in money and men,
reverend sir. They cannot succeed," McLeod boasted, and his
companion gently smiled.

" That is in the hands of God, my son," he said. " At all
events, the Abbe Picquet will leave naught undone to prevent
such invasion. That is assured. Now, to business. In what
manner are these stores to be conveyed to Fort Niagara?"

"Do we travel with them, reverend sir? The young
man — "

" Ah, I regret his appearance here. I would I might assist
him."

" You can," McLeod burst out impulsively. " I should
have told you long ere this. He is not, and never was, a spy.
His grandfather is Jacques Birnon — a friend of the Abbe;
the young man would have written that information, had he
been permitted."

" How know you this, my son ? " exclaimed the doctor.
"Are you sure? "

" Reverend sir, I will confess myself. I am not only a store-
keeper. My daughter bears the title of Countess de Lau-
donniere. Long ago I departed from France, coming hither
to bury a past. This young man comes to inform me the world
is free to me again. His grandfather, Jacques Birnon, desires
my return ; has gained a pardon for my offenses. See — I
have it here. This is the errand on which the young man came,
to be branded as spy by a madman."

" Do you say he is what he claims to be, he is free to go
where he pleases. My master will regret his hastiness, when
he knows how near he came to the ending of so old a friend-

364 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

ship. Does Jacques Birnon come to know, there will be an
end to further finances, I fear, for my master's many proj-
ects." And the doctor made a wry face. He knew how
many thousand francs had left the pockets of the old Huguenot,
to willingly further the schemes of a most honest Jesuit.
" Well, well, there has been little harm done. The boy has
found a wife. I trust you have agreed, my son ? " And the
Count de Laudonniere smiled a happy assurance. Though,
close at hand, lay the dead body of a man who had saved to him
many times more than the value of his ancient title, one who
should, by right, have also enjoyed a share of this world's pleas-
ure, thoughts of a daughter's assured future, her happiness, out-
weighed sorrow at the loss of a rough old sergeant of foot.

The doctor pointed to the trestled load. " He would have
been quite content," he said, and the other frowned.

" I hope so," he muttered thoughtfully, " but he was a
strange old fellow — in any case, would not have come with
us. Perhaps — perhaps it is best so." And Brother Alonzo,
nodding thoughtfully, agreed.

Outside, in the raw autumn air, Captain de Celeron paced
the shore with rapid footsteps, thinking — ever thinking of
that useless crime. c 'Tis not to be thought of, that I, an
officer, T/ould deliberately and without good reason, thrust a
man 'to death," he muttered. " If I could but think? Think
clearly. That scoundrel Peche — he might advance me ideas
of the truth, liar though he is, and always was. He sought to
be of service — where can he be ! "

Then he hesitated in a rambling walk; forgot to turn, drew
nearer rnd nearer to the forest, within whose gloom lurked a
man clad in the uniform of New France. A soldier, who
watched the every movement of his officer, hate blazing in
half-closed eyes. Corporal Peche, hunted to the side of his
loot by the searching parties, at his wits' end, driven to bay,
knew the only penalty of being caught. His whole future was
wrapped up in those tightly rolled packs of skins, and he de-
termined to make one last determined stand.

' 'Tis death either way," he muttered savagely. " I would
sooner hang than be poor again." Then he stole to a hidden
canoe moored close to the shore under cover of an overhanging
willow; lay down full length in the bottom, peering over the
gunwale. " He may not see the cache," he growled ; " if he

THE END 365

does — " And a murderous light lit up the depths of his
crafty eyes.

Captain de Celeron strolled on, entering the shade of the
spreading trees. Down a leafless alley he moved, a way that
seemed to open on purpose for his blind footsteps. Beneath a
giant oak he paused. Lost in thought, his eyes staring, but un-
seeing at what he kicked with one boot, he stood for many
minutes. And Peche, watching close, swore horribly. He
thought a laboriously won looting had been discovered. The
brittle sticks and faded crisp leaves Captain de Celeron sent
flying right and left were all that covered many louis' worth of
fur, the rightful property of the King of all New France.

With a baring of yellow teeth, Peche softly crept out of his
hiding place. Stole cautiously behind the quarry he stalked.
Then, he made a sudden spring, caught one foot in a bramble,
stumbled, and Captain de Celeron came suddenly to life.

" Name of a thousand devils, and where may you have
been ? " he asked angrily. Then, as the fallen man groaned,
"What ails you?"

Peche cursed under his breath. For a minute he was silent.
He thought the end was at hand for him. Suddenly, he re-
solved to die fighting — this baby-face would surely have sol-
diers at his back — they would be on him in a moment, and —

" I am badly injured, my Captain," he mumbled. " If you
would but assist me." As his unsuspecting officer came close,
he lost his lameness. His claw like hands shot out, seized at
a white neck, and as they rolled struggling on the ground, he
hissed, " Satan seize you, fool. Think you, you, could hold
me?"

Together they fought on the frost-bitten mold, scattering
dry sticks skyward; clawing, clutching desperately, until the
Corporal rolled his antagonist face upward, holding him there
for a moment to regain a spent breath. Captain de Celeron
saw one desperate chance. Rolling over, eluding a grimy hand,
he stumbled to his feet, and Peche gave himself up for lost.
Then, he, too, sprang upright. In the distance the shouts of
soldiers sounded on the still air. Thoughts of a rope restored
breath to his lungs, and lent the speed of a deer to his blistered
feet.

11 To me ! my children ! " Captain de Celeron shouted, and
Peche ran.

366 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

Blindly he fled. Came to the open gateway of the Fort.
Without heeding where he ran, entered inside the first en-
trance visible, turned, to bang the heavy door with a dull thud,
and drop the weighty bars into their iron sockets. Then with
one glance, he knew himself within the walls of the new guard-
house.

" Safe ! safe for a time, at least ! " he gasped. The sounds
of men striving to break in reached his ears, and he burst into
horrible cursing. Moving to a window, he cautiously peeped
out. The bang of a musket, the splintering of the wooden
frame, hinted at sudden death, and he suddenly sank to the
floor. " Fools," he rasped out, as another shot shattered the
horn pane. " Fools, but I am caught — caught like a rat in
a trap."

Crouching, he glanced eagerly about for something to secure
the window. A bundle of blankets caught his eye, and he
crawled to where they lay. " If I could but come at a plank! "
he muttered. " I have it — down comes the partition."

An ax lay to his hand. Without thought of the waiting
muskets outside, eager for his death, right and left he wielded
the sharp steel. Down tumbled the poles, holding the planks
dividing the long room in two, and as the ten-foot boards
crashed to the floor he dropped his weapon, hurriedly raised
their length and barricaded one window. Then, though pant-
ing with exertion, he calmly turned attention to the other and
only entrance.

" Now, baby-face," he shouted contemptuously, wedging the
blankets tight between the wood, " you may waste lead in
plenty, an it please you." Stealing to the door, he listened
eagerly for sounds of what might be going forward outside.
But the thickness of the adze-smoothed frame, prevented his
straining ears from hearing aught but the rapid pounding of
his mad-beating heart. "Safe — for how long?" he mut-
tered, casting his spent body on the floor. " Safe — until — "
And the vision of a swaying rope caused a shudder to move his
features to a hideous scowl.

Captain de Celeron quickly recovered from the effects of the
struggle. Surrounded by the soldiers, coming to search the
shore once again, as a last resource, he pointed to the flying
figure of the Corporal, and as they saw him reach the entrance,
disappear within its gate, a yell burst from many throats, and

THE END 367

the line of searchers straggled one after the other swift upon
his heels.

" Surround the house," he shouted, first to see Peche could
not escape. And as the men obeyed, " Shoot, but do not kill
him. I will hang his carcass on the tallest tree that grows
within a mile."

One or two of the younger men loosed a shot at the win-
dows. But when they were closed by the planks, Captain de
Celeron swore under his breath that the fugitive had for the
time escaped.

The noise of the shooting quickly brought out Brother
Alonzo, with Madeline and her lover. A fond father followed
close, and in a few moments, the young officer had related the
cause.

" We cannot come at him, at present," he said briefly, his
face coloring red under the contemptuous stare of the girl.
" We must starve him out. He will not hold out long, with
but splinters for a meal." And the four, without comment,
returned to the storehouse.

The wind, that at sunrise was but a breath, began as the
day wore on to assume the proportions of a gale, blowing
straight out of the chill northland, that saw its birth. The
garrison, forced to do a most unwelcome sentry go over their
one time Corporal, muttered of vengeance, as they shivered in
the cold. One angry man loosed off a musket at close quar-
ters, swearing by all he held dear, when taken to task for rank
insubordination, his cramped fingers had closed on the trigger
of themselves. Captain de Celeron, ever on the alert, accepted
the statement, but continued his vigilance to the extent of
marching round and round the fast-closed guardhouse.

Just as he passed the door for the third occasion, when the
sky flamed red with the good night of the sun, he observed
smoke rising from the roof. An eager rush of the men fol-
lowed to ascertain the cause, but ere a soldier could force en-
trance, a roaring column of flame shot out above the shingles,
and the building was doomed.

" To the well ! Bring buckets," shouted the young officer.
" Haste, you idiots." And as the men ran hither and thither
in confused numbers, " Steady, fools. Buckets, I say.
Buckets. Form a chain to the well." But all the wells and
buckets in New France would have been powerless to stay the

368 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

leaping flames, fed with pitch pine and cedar, leaping skyward
with 'furious roar.

The gale seized on blazing shingles, carrying their flaming
lengths to settle with a hissing sound on the near-by, tinder-
roofed buildings. In a few minutes, the quarters of the sol-
diers were all ablaze, and the puny hands of the garrison
seemed powerless to check the spreading fire.

Alarmed by the shouting, the four inmates of the store-
house were soon at hand. Francis Birnon, stripped to the
shirt, drew bucket after bucket of water, passed down by store-
keeper, priest and Captain, without regard to distinction of
learning, rank, or station. Madeline also added her feminine
energies to the passing of the pails, but without avail. In five
minutes from the commencement of the fire in the guardhouse,
the stockade walls were smoldering all along their length;
the storehouse one raging mass of flame.

" Sergeant Pere ! The Indian maid ! " Birnon shouted, see-
ing continued effort useless to stay the conflagration. He
would have entered the door, whose opening vomited clouds
of dense black smoke, but the doctor seized his arm, pointing
to Madeline, cowering affrighted at such wholesale destruc-
tion, and the wiping out of the only home she had known for
years.

" Save the living," he panted, as the gale swirled a shower
of half-burnt embers about their heads. " The dead are be-
yond our assistance." And the other, lifting the terrified girl,
fought his way out between the already smoldering gateposts,
followed in disorder by the company lodged at Fort Toronto.

" Thank the Blessed Saints, you are safe, child," the store-
keeper gasped, as he received his daughter in his arms. " An-
other moment and we had all burned to death."

" We are like to starve, and so reach the same end," Birnon
said hurriedly. " Something must be done — that at once."
And silently the others agreed. " What of the distance be-
tween this place and Niagara?" he asked, looking about for
ideas. But the soot-covered soldiers were also silent. They
knew the terrors of that long trail to safety were fraught with
much danger to armed men. What of the one woman of their
forlorn band!

" We have one canoe to do the journey," Captain de Celeron
said at last, thinking of the hiding place of Corporal Peche,

THE END 369

whose movements he had closely observed, though appearing to
be unaware. " Mademoiselle, your reverence, and," — here he
gulped back something in his throat — " this gentleman, with
McLeod, had best set out at once. We others, must do the
distance on foot." And again the garrison scowled to a man.
" Fort Toronto will soon be in ashes. 'Tis fools' work, to
waste time."

Thus came to an end a trading station founded by the illustri-
ous De Gallissionaire, in the interests of his master, the King
of France. Fired by a stray shot, at the hands of a soldier,
aimed at the head of a treacherous scoundrel, and would-be
robber. In the flames, perished all that was mortal of a brave
man, murdered by the weapon of a madman. An Indian maid,
dead by butchery at the hands of savage enemies, was also con-
sumed in the flames, that burned to ashes the body of Corporal
Peche.

History records, the Abbe Picquet, Doctor of the Sorbonne,
and Prefect Apostolic of all New France, was instrumental
in committing to a fiery doom, a fort, whose removal was to
the interest of his beloved country. But, so much for his-
torical writing, sometimes far from the realistic truth. Fort
Toronto was destroyed — history does not need to record that
fact, for the tale is a tradition that will never die. For years,
the roaring lake in autumn; the gentle ripple of its waters in
spring and summer ; the whispering of the forest with its thou-
sand life noises, were the only sounds breaking the silence
where a trading station once hummed with activity. The
founding of a mighty city on that site, undreamed of. But
the restless hum of many people reaches out to that huge bowl-
der, lying at the foot of a taper monument, this very day. The
only monument erected to the brave ones of the past, at this
once deserted spot. Peace to their ashes, the pioneers of those
who dwell in peace and safety, though not beneath that flag,
those first ones meant to float forever.

Fort Toronto was destroyed by fire, forcing the removal of
the garrison to Fort Niagara. Madeline McLeod, with her
father and lover, reached that outpost in safety. They must
have so done! because a musty record in New Rochelle plainly
states that one, Francis Birnon, led to the altar the only daugh-
ter of the last one of the De Laudonnieres.

Of Brother Alonzo, there is no record. Probably he re-

370 THE SERGEANT OF FORT TORONTO

turned to the wilds when his master, the Abbe, retired to his
beloved Sorbonne. The forest giants might, had we the wit
to understand leafy traditions, speak of his end! But, alas!
the forest giants are near all done to death, and those that re-
main were perhaps striplings in that day, and their memory
hazy of those times.

As for Captain de Celeron, he was not even brought to task
for a murder. New France had more weighty matters on her
hands than the avenging of a soldier's death. He fought on
many a battle field for his country; earned great distinction, as
a brave officer. And there are far worse punishments for mur-
der than death to the murderer.

Possibly, in the night silences, memory painted with vivid
brush a girl, he loved to distraction of all else: and her power-
ful fingers must have limned one scene. A rough uneven
floor, on it, stiff and silent, a lean and wounded soldier, a faith-
ful friend slain in a frenzy. The man, whose story enters into
this veracious history ; brave, in spite of his confession of coward
theft, Sergeant Pere, The Sergeant of Fort Toronto!

THE END

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