*CHAPTER XIV*
_*WEDDING GUESTS.*_
More guests were arriving--Diome, Batiste, Mathurin, and a dozen others.Bowkett came out into the porch to receive them, and usher one after theother into the dining-room. As the last went in before him, his friendDick Vanner of the forked tongue tapped him on the shoulder.
"Who is in there?" he whispered. "Did you see?" pointing as he spoke tothe door of Uncle Caleb's room.
Gaspe was on the alert in a moment, longing to break a lance in hisfriend's behalf. The men dropped their voices, but the echo of onesentence reached him. It sounded like, "No, she only saw the otherboy."
"So, Wilfred, _mon cher_, you and I have changed places, and I havebecome that 'other boy,'" laughed Gaspe to himself, lying perdu with anopen ear.
As the two separated they muttered, "Outwit us? Like to see it done!"
"Keep that door shut, and leave the rest to me," added Vanner,sauntering up to the fire.--"Accommodation is scanty here to-night. Howmany are there in your party?" he asked, looking down on Gaspe. "Petesaid four--three men and a boy. Was not it five--three men and twoboys?"
"Yes, five," answered Gaspe.
"You boys must want something to eat," remarked Vanner, carelesslypushing open the door of the storeroom, and returning with a partridgepie. "Here, fall to. Where's your chum?"
Gaspe saw the trap into which he was expected to walk. He stepped overit.
"Have not you been taught to look out for number one?" asked Gaspe."I'll have a turn at that pie by myself, now I have got the chance,before I call on a chum to help me. I can tell you that."
"Confound you, you greedy young beggar!" exclaimed Vanner.
"Try thirty miles in an open sled, with twenty-five degrees of frost onthe ground, and see if you would be willing to divide your pie at theend of it," retorted Gaspe.
"That is a cool way of asking for one apiece," remarked Vanner,abstracting a second pie from the storeroom shelves.
"If you've another to spare I'd like two for myself," persisted Gaspe.
"Then have it," said Vanner. "I am bound to give you a satisfaction.We do not reckon on a wedding feast every night. Now, where is theother boy? You can't object to call him. Here is a sausage as long asyour arm. Walk into that."
"You will not get me to move with this dish before me," returned theundaunted Gaspe, and Vanner felt it waste of time to urge him further.He went back to his friends.
Gaspe was at Caleb Acland's door in a moment, singing through thekeyhole,--
"St. George he is for England, St. Denis is for France. _Honi soit qui mal y pense._"
Wilfred rose to open the door as he recognized his friend's voice.
"Keep where you are. Don't come out for anybody," urged Gaspe,retreating as he heard a noise: but it was only his grandfatherre-entering the porch.
He flew to his side. "What's up?" he asked breathlessly.
"A goodly crop of suspicions, if all the Cree tells me is true. Yourpoor friend is fitted with an uncle in this Bowkett after their oldballad type of the Babes in the Wood."
"Now listen to me, grandfather, and I can tell you a little bit more,"answered Gaspe, giving his narrative with infinite delight at thesuccess of his manoeuvring.
The moon shone clear and bright. The tree in the centre of the court,laden with hoar-frost, glittered in its crystal white like some bridalbouquet of gigantic size. The house was ablaze with light from everywindow. The hunters had turned their horses adrift. They weregalloping at will among the orchard trees to keep themselves warm.Maxica was wandering in their midst, counting their numbers to ascertainthe size of the party. Mr. De Brunier crossed over to him, to discussGaspe's intelligence, and sent his grandson back indoors, where thesledge-driver was ready to assist him in the demolition of the pieswhich had so signally failed to lure Wilfred from his retreat.
Mr. De Brunier followed his grandson quickly, and walking straight toUncle Caleb's door, knocked for admittance.
The cowkeeper, the only individual at Acland's Hut who did not knowWilfred personally, was sent by Bowkett to keep up the kitchen fire.
The man stared. "The master has got his door fastened," he said; "Ican't make it out."
"Is Mr. Acland ready to see me?" asked Mr. De Brunier, repeating hissummons.
"Yes," answered Uncle Caleb; "come in."
Wilfred opened the door.
Uncle Caleb raised himself on his elbow, and catching sight of thedishes on the kitchen-table, said, "It seems to me the old man's ordersare to go for little. But whilst the life is in me I am master in thisplace. Be so good, sir, as to tell that fellow of mine to bring that piein here, and give this child something to eat."
"With pleasure," returned his visitor.
Wilfred's supper provided for, the two looked well at each other.
"What sort are you?" was the question in both minds. They trusted, aswe all do more or less, to the expression. A good honest characterwrites itself on the face. They shook hands.
"I have to thank you for bringing back my boy," said Uncle Caleb.
"Not me," returned Mr. De Brunier, briefly recapitulating thecircumstances which led to Wilfred's sojourn at Hungry Hall, and why hesent him to the hunters' camp. "Since then," he added, "your nephew hasbeen wandering among the Indians. It was a Cree who guided himhome--the same Cree who warned him not to trust himself with Bowkett."
"Come here, Wilfred, and tell me exactly what this Indian said,"interposed Caleb Acland, a grave look gathering on his wrinkled brow.
"Not one word, uncle. Maxica did not speak," answered Wilfred. "Hebrought me three queer bits of wood from the hearth and stuck them inthe floor before me, so, and so," continued the boy, trying to explainthe way in which the warning had been given to him.
Uncle Caleb was getting so much exhausted with the excitement ofWilfred's return, and the effort of talking to a stranger, he did notquite understand all Wilfred was saying.
"We can't condemn a fellow on evidence like that," moaned the old man,"and one so near to me as Bowkett. What does it mean for Miriam?"
"Will you see this Cree and hear for yourself?" asked Mr. De Brunier."We are neither judge nor jury. We are not here to acquit or condemn,but a warning like this is not to be despised. I came to put you onyour guard."
The feeble hand grasped his, "I am about spent," groaned Caleb. "It ismy breath. Let me rest a bit. I'll think this over. Come again."
The gasping words came with such painful effort, Mr. De Brunier couldonly lay him back amongst his pillows and promise to return in themorning, or earlier if it were wished. He was at the door, when CalebAcland signed to him to return.
"Not a word to my sister yet. The boy is safe here. Tell him he is notto go out of this room."
Mr. De Brunier shook the feeble hand once more, and gave the requiredpromise. There was one more word. "What was that about buying land? Imight help you there; a little business between us, you understand."
"Yes, yes," answered Mr. De Brunier, feeling as if such another effortmight shake the labouring breath out of the enfeebled frame in a moment.
"Keep in here. Keep quiet; and remember, whatever happens, I shall benear," was Mr. De Brunier's parting charge to Wilfred as he went backinto the kitchen, intending to watch there through the night, if no oneobjected to his presence.
The old man started as the door closed after him. "Don't fasten it,lad!" he exclaimed. "It looks too much like being afraid of them."
Mr. De Brunier joined Gaspe and the sledge-driver at their supper.Gaspe watched him attentively as they ate on in silence.
Bowkett came out and spoke to them. "I am sorry," he said, "to seeminhospitable, but the house is so full to-night I really cannot offeryou any further accommodation. But the men have a sleeping hut roundthe corner, under the pines, where you can pass the night. I'll sendone of them with you to show you the way and light a fire."
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bsp; No exception could be taken to this. The three finished their supperand were soon ready to depart.
"I must see Mr. Acland again about the land business," remarked Mr. DeBrunier, recalling Uncle Caleb's hint.
Bowkett summoned his man, and Diome came out with him. He strolledthrough the porch and looked about him, as if he were considering theweather.
Maxica was still prowling behind the orchard trees, like a hungry coyotewatching for the remnants of the feast, as it seemed. The two met.
"There will be mischief before these fellows part," said Diome. "Keep asharp look-out for the boy."
Diome went on to catch Dick Vanner's pony. Maxica stole up to the house.The travellers were just coming out. He gave Yula a call. Gaspe wasthe only one who perceived him, as Yula bounded between them.
It was hard for Gaspe to go away and leave his friend without anotherword. He had half a mind to take Kusky with him. He lingeredirresolute a moment or two behind his grandfather. Bowkett had openedthe door of Caleb Acland's room, and he saw Kusky creeping in betweenBowkett's legs.
"How is this?" the latter was saying in a noisy voice. "Wilfred gothome, and won't show his face!--won't come out amongst us to have hisdinner and speak to his aunt! What is the meaning of it? What makes himafraid of being seen?"
There was not a word from Wilfred. It was the feeble voice of his UncleCaleb that was speaking:--
"Yes, it is Wilfred come back. I've got him here beside me all safe.He has been wandering about among the redskins, half dead and nearlystarved. Don't disturb us. I am getting him to sleep. Tell Miriam shemust come here and look at him. You can all come and look at him;Forgill and your Diome too. They all know my boy. How has Miriammanaged to keep away?"
"As if we could spare the bride from the marriage feast," laughedBowkett, raising his voice that every one might hear what they weresaying.
"Neither can I spare my boy out of my sight a single moment," said theold man quietly.
"That's capital," laughed Gaspe to himself, as he ran after hisgrandfather.
They did not encounter Maxica, but they passed Diome trying to catch thehorse, and gave him a little help by the way.
"You are not going?" he asked anxiously. "I thought you would be sureto stay the night. You are a friend of Wilfred Acland's, are you not,Mr. De Brunier? He was so disappointed when he found Hungry Hall wasshut up. I thought you would know him; so do I. Mrs. Bowkett says theboy is not her nephew."
"I rather think that has been said for her," remarked Mr. De Brunierquietly.
"I see through it," exclaimed Gaspe; "I see what they are driving at.Her husband told her I was the boy. She came and looked at me. Bowkettknows well enough the real Wilfred is in his uncle's room, If they couldget him out into the kitchen, they would make a great clamour anddeclare he is an impostor trying to take the old man in."
"You've hit it," muttered Diome. "But they shan't give him lynch law.I'll not stand by and see that."
"Come back, grandfather," cried Gaspe. "Give me one of your Englishsovereigns with a little silver threepenny on either side to kiss it.I'll string them on my watch-chain for a lady's locket, walk in with itfor a wedding present, and undeceive the bride before them all."
"Not so fast, Gaspard. We should only bring the crisis before we haveraised our safeguards," rejoined Mr. De Brunier thoughtfully. "I sawmany a gun set down against the wall, as the hunters came in."
"That is nothing," put in Diome; "we are never without them."
"That is everything," persisted Mr. De Brunier. "Men with armshabitually in their hands use them with small provocation, and thingsare done which would never be done by deliberate purpose."
"I am not Dick Vanner's groom," said Diome, "but he wants me to hold hishorse in the shadow of those pines or under the orchard wall; and I'llhold it as long as he likes, and walk it about half the night inreadiness for him, and then I shall know where he is bound for."
"The American frontier, with Wilfred behind him, unless I am making agreat mistake. If Bowkett laid a finger on him here, half his guestswould turn upon him," observed Mr. De Brunier.
"That's about it," returned Diome. "Now I am going to shut up thishorse in one of the sheds, ready for Vanner at a moment's notice, andthen I'll try for a word with Forgill. He is working so hard with thecarving-knife there is no getting at him."
"There is one of the Aclands' men lighting a fire in his hut, ready forus," put in Gaspe.
Diome shook his head. "He!" he repeated in accents of contempt; "hewould let it all out at the wrong time."
"Is the Cree gone?"
"Maxica is on the scent already,' replied Diome, whistling carelessly asthey parted.
"Gaspard," said Mr. De Brunier, as they entered the hut, "do youremember passing a policeman on the road. He was watching for a Yankeespirit cart, contraband of course. He will have caught it by this time,and emptied the barrels, according to our new Canadian law. Go back inthe sledge--you will meet him returning--and bring him here. If herides into the farm-court before daybreak, your little friend is safe.As for me, I must keep watch here. No one can leave the house withoutme seeing him, the night is so clear. A dark figure against the whiteground is visible at twice this distance; and Maxica is somewhere by theback of the homestead. Neither sight nor sound will escape an Indian."
Mr. De Brunier despatched the sledge-driver back to the farm with theman Bowkett had sent to light their fire, to try to procure a freshhorse. This was easily managed. Bowkett was delighted to think thetravellers were about to resume their journey, and declared the betterhalf of hospitality was to speed the parting guest.
The sledge went round to Forgill's hut. Gaspe wrapped himself in thebearskin and departed. No one saw him go; no one knew that Mr. DeBrunier was left behind. He built up the fire and reconnoitred hisground. In one corner of the hut was a good stout cudgel.
"I must anticipate your owner's permission and adopt you," he said, ashe gave it a flourish to try its weight. Then he looked to the revolverin his breast pocket, and began his walk, so many paces in front of thehut, with his eye on the farm-house porch, and so many paces walkingbackwards, with it still in sight--a self-appointed sentry, ready tochallenge the enemy single-handed, for he did not count much upon Diome.He saw how loath he was to come into collision with Bowkett, andreckoned him more as a friend in the camp than as an active ally. Therewas Maxica, ready like a faithful mastiff to fly at the throat of thefirst man who dared to lay a hand on Wilfred, regardless ofconsequences. He did not know Maxica, but he knew the working of theIndian mind. Revenge is the justice of the savage. It was Maxica'sretaliation that he feared. Diome had spoken of Forgill, but Mr. DeBrunier knew nothing of him, so he left him out of count. It was clearhe must chiefly rely on his own coolness and courage. "The moral forcewill tell in such an encounter as this, and that is all on my side," hesaid to himself. "It will tell on the outsiders and the farm-servants.I shall find some to second me." He heard the scrape of the fiddle andthe merry chorus of some hunting-song, followed by the quick beat of thedancers' footsteps.
Hour succeeded hour. The fire in the hut burned low. De Brunier lefthis post for a moment to throw on fresh logs. He returned to his watch.The house-door opened. Out came Diome and crossed to the cattle-sheds.Mr. De Brunier saw him come back with Vanner's horse. He changed hisposition, creeping in behind the orchard trees, until he was within afew yards of the house. The three feet of snow beneath his feet gavehim an elevation. He was looking down into the court, where the snowhad been partially cleared.
Diome was walking the horse up and down before the door. It was not anight in which any one could stand still. His impatient stamping towarm his feet brought out Vanner and Bowkett, with half-a-dozen others.The leave-taking was noisy and prolonged. Batiste's head appeared in thedoorway.
"I cannot count on his assistance," thought Mr. De Brunier, "but I cancount on his neutrality; and Diome must know that a word from me wouldbring
about his dismissal from his new master."
Vanner mounted and rode off along the slippery ground as only a huntercould ride.
"Now for the first act," thought Mr. De Brunier. "May my Gaspard bespeeding on his errand. The hour draws near."
As Bowkett and his friends turned back into the house, Diome walkedrapidly across the other end of the orchard and went towards Forgill'shut. With cautious steps De Brunier followed.
Diome was standing moodily by the fire. He started.
"Well," demanded Mr. De Brunier, "how goes the night?"
"For God's sake keep out of the way, sir. They have made this hut therendezvous, believing you had started hours ago," exclaimed Diomebrightening.
"Did you think I had deserted the poor boy?" asked Mr. De Brunier.
"I was thinking," answered Diome, waiving the question, "Dick Vanner isa dangerous fellow to thwart when the bowie-knife is in his hand."
"Well, you will see it done, and then you may find him not quite sodangerous as he seems," was the quiet reply.
Lost in the Wilds: A Canadian Story Page 14