Choteau had returned.
He was in his office when I entered, and he turned to study me. As to where he placed his loyalties, I did not know for sure, but I had no choice but to explain fully. Quickly, I told him that Charles Majoribanks had stumbled upon knowledge of a plot to seize the territory, that Tabitha Majoribanks was now in St. Louis on her way west to find him, and that I suspected Colonel Macklem to be one of the plotters.
“I am a fur trader, not a politician,” he replied. “I know nothing of the situation you outline. There have been several abortive attempts to seize Louisiana, one way or another.”
“The steamboat has several cases of rifles,” I explained.
Choteau tipped back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Then he shook his head. “I do not know you, Mr. Talon. I do not know you at all. You’re a very young man who has come to me with a somewhat fanciful tale, that is all.”
“You have met Charles Majoribanks?”
“He was entertained in my home when he came in on the Western Engineer.”
“You did not entertain him on his return? You did not see him then?” I asked.
“No, as a matter of fact, I did not. It was my understanding that he remained upcountry for the purpose of studying plants and animal life.”
“You have not heard from him since his first visit?”
He shrugged again. “Should I have? I do not see all who pass through St. Louis.”
He studied me thoughtfully. “You might think on this, young man. Colonel Macklem has been in St. Louis several times. He is well thought of here. He has many friends. He is well known along the Missouri River. We have had no reason to complain of his conduct.”
He paused, shuffling some papers upon his desk. “Another thing. I believe you underrate the capabilities of Miss Majoribanks. I must inform you that she is an extremely astute young woman, both in trade and international politics.”
I was surprised. “I did hear,” I admitted, “that she was well spoken of.…”
“You heard correctly, sir. Miss Majoribanks,” he said dryly, “was trained in a very thorough way by one of the shrewdest minds in the country. I hope she will see fit to call on me while here.”
For a moment I had nothing to say, and suddenly all notions of plots began to seem rather childish. Yet one thing remained.
“You do not think it strange that the steamboat did not dock at St. Louis? That it proceeded upstream to what is, in effect, a hiding place?”
He frowned momentarily. “Yes,” he admitted, “that does seem a bit strange. But no doubt they have their reasons.”
“And Foulsham was murdered while carrying information about such a plot?”
“I know of that only from you. I have no reason to doubt your word, but on the other hand, many men are murdered while traveling.”
He got to his feet. “It has been pleasant, Mr. Talon, but I have other duties. You will excuse me?”
I went out and stood in the store, watching the people, yet thinking of everything else. Was I a fool then? How much, really, did I know?
Macklem was known here, and he was liked. He had, if he was a plotter, laid his groundwork very well.
Suddenly, I thought of my own situation. What was I doing here? What had prompted me to leave a good job—one in which I might soon have become owner or part-owner of a steamboat or a boat yard—and come off to this far place?
I felt like a fool, a colossal fool. I should have stayed in Pittsburgh, building boats.
“Quite an odd lot, aren’t they?”
Startled, I turned to see a young man beside me, a slender, rather handsome young man with a nicely boned, aristocratic-looking face. He indicated the passers-by. “I wanted to see this. I had to see it. Now that I see it, I find it hard to believe…the redskins and all.”
“This is their country,” I commented ironically. “You should expect to find them here.”
“Oh, but I did! I expected it. I knew they would be here. Why, we used to play Red Indians when I was a child in England, but to know I am here is something different.”
He turned and extended a hand. “I am Donald McQuarrie. I am trying to get on with one of the fur companies…with Choteau, if he’ll have me.”
“My name is Talon,” I said.
He nodded. “So I was told.”
“Told?” I stared at him.
“Mr. Choteau told me who you were, what you looked like. He said I should talk to you.”
“I am not a fur trader. I’ve no jobs to offer,” I said, “and my meeting with Mr. Choteau was very brief. I do not believe he was much impressed.”
“On the contrary.” McQuarrie watched the crowd, his eyes alert and busy. “The Choteaus have been around for a long, long time, Mr. Talon, and will be around for a longer time still. There’s talent in the blood, and a good deal of native shrewdness.
“You see,” he paused, “I’d been to see him just before you, and about much the same thing.”
For a moment what he said did not register. “Much the same thing?”
“I followed you west, and, I might say, had a devil of a time at it. When you travel, you do not waste time. You just about succeeded in losing me a couple of times.”
“You followed us?”
“You…yes, I did. You see, when Simon Tate reached Boston, I was there. The gentleman to whom he went on arrival was a friend of mine, and I had let him know why I was in America. He let me see the papers Tate had, and Tate told me of you, so here I am.”
“Might I ask why?”
“Obvious, is it not? I want Macklem. I want him very badly indeed. Most of all, I want Torville.”
“There is a connection then?”
He glanced at me. “Of course. You see, we don’t like Torville. He’s a dangerous, completely unscrupulous man. He has betrayed the French, and he has betrayed us. He has no loyalty but to himself. Now he is here.”
McQuarrie was quiet, sincere. He talked well and he made sense of a kind, yet I did not trust him. But then, I am not usually a trusting man, and inclined to be wary of strangers. This one was apparently British, and he had that manner that one recognizes as a product of the better schools, and we saw a lot of that sort of thing in Canada. Many of our most and least successful pioneers had been retired British officers.
“I know you no more than Choteau knew me,” I said.
“I am a brother officer of Captain Robert Foulsham. In fact, he was a year or two ahead of me in school. We were on the same mission, actually.”
He glanced at me. “Ever hear of Lord Selkirk?”
“Of course.”
“He established a colony west of the Great Lakes, if you’ll recall.”
“I know the story. It was attacked, some said by the Indians…I have forgotten the details. But wasn’t it nearly destroyed?”
“It was. And although he never appeared at the site, Torville was responsible. He was one of those who stirred up the trouble. The Hudson Bay Company wanted no settlers coming into the area who might interfere with their fur trade. As it was, they had complete control. Then Selkirk entered the picture. Yet there might have been no trouble had it not been for Torville, who wanted no settlers there either, and for his own reasons.”
“What reasons?”
“Think. The fur cannot last forever, and when the fur trade is no longer profitable, the Hudson Bay Company will relinquish its authority. Into that vacuum a man of will, authority, and determination might step.”
“He’s mad!”
“Perhaps…but uncommonly shrewd as well, and he knows how to use the passions, discontents, and greed of other men. Our belief is that he has support from quite a number of wealthy, power-hungry men in both Europe and America. Until such time as your army has posts and forts in the territory, there will always be those who will plot to seize it.”
Suddenly, a thought struck me like a thunderbolt. What if Tabitha’s father, with his chain of correspondents, had been one of those backing
Torville? And if he had, did Tabitha know or didn’t she?
I was facing McQuarrie, who was about to speak.
“What a small world, after all!” The voice was cynical, amused. “Tabitha, will you look now? It is the young man from the trail! The one who was going to remain in Pittsburgh; I wonder what brings him to St. Louis?”
I turned around.
It was Macklem. And beside him, Tabitha.
Chapter 16
*
TABITHA EXTENDED HER hand. “It is good to see you!” she said, and, surprisingly, I thought she meant it. “Are you shopping?”
“Sightseeing,” I said. When I thought of McQuarrie, and turned to introduce him, he had vanished in the crowd.
“You seem surprised,” Macklem said.
“I am surprised.”
“We’re only going to be here today and tomorrow,” Tabitha said. “We’ve some supplies to buy and I want to see if there’s any news of Charles.” And then she added, “Colonel Macklem has been helping me.”
“He looks like he was born for the job,” I said, and felt better when his features tightened.
“Where’s Mrs. Higgs?” I said.
“She’s aboard the boat,” Tabitha said. “She wasn’t feeling well.”
“I am so sorry. Perhaps I could go and see her,” I said cheerfully.
“Oh, but you can’t,” Tabitha said, “the boat is—”
Macklem interrupted. “She’s not well,” he said. “She’s not receiving visitors.”
“Another time,” I replied.
Just then a man came up and touched me lightly on the sleeve. “Mr. Talon? Mr. Choteau would like to see you. When it is possible.”
Tabitha stared at me, coldly curious. “Talon? I thought your name was Daniel?”
“Jean Daniel Talon,” I said.
Macklem’s attention had sharpened. “Talon? I know that name.”
“It is possible,” I said, then added, “please give Mrs. Higgs my regards.”
“I shall,” Tabitha said. Suddenly she turned to Macklem. “Colonel, I must see Mr. Choteau myself. Shall I meet you at the dock then? In two hours?”
He was caught completely off guard. I think he had no intention of letting her out of his sight, that he had planned to carefully manage her trip ashore so that she talked to no one when he was not present. The sudden suggestion caught him unprepared.
“Can’t we do that later?” There was irritation in his tone. “I mean, there’s much to do, and—”
“Do what you must, Colonel. Mr. Talon will escort me, as he is going to see Mr. Choteau himself. Mr. Choteau’s will offer me the best choice of things I need for myself and Mrs. Higgs. So, then…in two hours?”
Abruptly, she turned her back on him and took my arm.
I chuckled.
“You must have ridden very fast,” she said.
“Yes. We did. I wanted to get here before you.”
“Why?”
The question stopped me. Finally I said, “Because I thought you might need help, and I wanted to be near if you needed me.”
“That was sweet. You know, Mr. Talon, you can be very nice at times…and very obnoxious at others.”
“Then we are two of a kind,” I said dryly.
She laughed.
“Have you news of your brother?”
“No.” She was suddenly serious. “That is one reason I wish to see Mr. Choteau.”
We were shown into his presence at once. When he saw Tabitha, he bowed deeply. “This can only be Miss Majoribanks?”
“How do you do?” She accepted the chair he held for her, then looked up at him. “Is there any word of Charles? Anything at all?”
“Nothing. I’ve sent some scouts up the Missouri and up the Platte. They will make inquiries. The last we heard of him he was on the Kansas River, gathering plants.”
“I must find him.”
He fussed with the papers on his desk. “You must not think of it. Stay with us in St. Louis, Miss Majoribanks. We will find him. It is a vast country out there, so vast you cannot even imagine it, and looking for a needle in a haystack would be a simple task by comparison.”
“Nevertheless, I shall go. Charles, if he is not injured, will find me. He will hear of our steamboat—and surely there cannot be two such in the world. And he will come to it—if for no other reason than to dispose of his plants. I’m certain he will come.”
“If he is free,” I said.
She turned sharply. “What do you mean?”
“Charles may have been captured by enemy forces,” I replied. “Only that.”
“And what is your interest in this?” she asked suddenly. “You’re not even a citizen of the States. You are a Canadian.”
“We’re all Americans, I think,” I said quietly. “But I have asked myself that question. I am a man who believes in order. A stable government is the responsibility of all men and women everywhere.
“Revolution, for whatever reason, is self-defeating, for violent revolution results in violent reaction. Oddly enough, the worst reaction usually comes from within the revolution itself, and the first casualty is the revolutionary. Look what has happened in France, for example. Those who created the revolution, those leaders of revolution, all were victims of it. And who reaped the benefit?—Napoleon.
“Peaceful change is the healthiest change, but if you will look closely you will see what the so-called revolutionary who deals in violence wants is simply violence. He is unhappy with himself, believes himself incapable of coping with the situation as it is, so tries to disrupt it. He wants violence to relieve his own anger and pent-up hatred.”
“But does he not claim to be acting for the people?” Mr. Choteau suggested.
I shrugged. “The ‘people’ is an abstraction. It is one of those general terms that has no meaning in fact. For ‘the people’ is in reality many peoples, with many interests, many possibilities. It is always interesting to me that none of these persons who claim to act for the people have ever consulted the people themselves.”
“And this Baron Torville?”
“An adventurer, pure and simple. One of those, no doubt, who still lives in the thinking of William the Conqueror or those Normans who invaded Sicily and set up a kingdom there. He is as out of date as the dinosaur, sir, but does not realize it.”
Choteau looked at me thoughtfully, and I think Tabitha was surprised as well. As a matter of fact, so was I.
“You seem well-informed, young man.”
“No, I am not. But history was much discussed at our table when I was a child, and the events of faroff nations seemed to us as if they were next door. He who started our family lived much in Asia and the interest in history and the people of history remained with us all.”
“You were fortunate. But these ideas? On revolution, and revolutionaries?”
“When a man works or travels he can also think. I have had much time to think, less time to talk.”
“And what do you believe is the end result of it all?”
“Some innocent people are killed, occasionally some of those who might have been sympathetic to the cause, much property is destroyed, often property that would have been very useful to the revolutionary government had it succeeded, and in the end a Napoleon appears who is tougher, stronger, and more determined than those who were thrown out.
“Of course, most revolutionists do not…really…want change. They simply want to sit in the driver’s seat.”
I paused. “You wished to speak to me, Mr. Choteau. What can I do for you?”
“You are going west. It suddenly occurred to me that you might be better armed. I do not know what weapons you have, but I’m sure you have nothing as fine as what I have here.
“It happens that a young Austrian of great wealth came here to hunt buffalo. He wished also to kill a grizzly bear. He brought excellent weapons, much equipment…and then became ill.
“This was months ago. Now he has sent word to sell his weapons and eq
uipment. Since you are going into such dangerous territory, I thought you might be interested.”
“I am definitely interested.”
He stepped to the door. “Jacques? Show Mr. Talon the Pauly rifles, will you, please?”
I followed Jacques.
When the door closed behind me, I wondered if Choteau was not equally eager to get me out of the room so that he might talk to Tabitha without being overheard. But in any event, I had no excuse to remain, and the guns did interest me.
Jacques was envious. “I should like to own them,” he said, “but I have not the money. It is very much, very, very much!”
“Tell me who made them.”
“Pauly was a Swiss, from Bern or near there, and he served in the Swiss army, then moved to France. At a demonstration before one of Napoleon’s generals, Pauly fired twenty-two shots in two minutes.”
One rifle felt especially good in my hands, a slender, graceful weapon.
“That is a weapon Pauly made for the young gentleman. Made it with his own hands, and it is beautifully done.”
“Did Napoleon try it out?”
“And approved it. However, it was too expensive a gun for an army. See? You open the breech with this lever and put in your cartridge. It uses less powder and will not hang fire, and it can be loaded or unloaded at great speed.”
I was impressed.
“And here are two Collier pistols, with handturned cylinders.”
They were going to cost me more than I could afford, but how much is a man’s life worth? I hesitated, then held the rifle in my hands while I considered, and was reluctant to put it down. It had a nice feel, moving easily to the shoulder. The sight was good. At last, I put it down.
Taking up the pistols, I studied them. The Collier had originally had a sort of mechanism to turn the cylinder as the gun was fired, but it had not proved satisfactory. Yet turning by hand was simple enough, and gave you several shots without reloading.
“How much?” I said at last, knowing they were too expensive.
“You will have to talk to Mr. Choteau. They are at his disposal, and from what I hear, he can put upon them what price he wishes.”
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