Читать книгу The Red Ranger - H. A. Cody - Страница 11

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Although commander of Fort Jemseg, and ruler of a large tract from the mouth of the great river leagues inland, Sieur de Soulanges was worried and annoyed as he sat at dinner with his officers. He had returned home that afternoon from the Big Lake after two days' absence. Not even his wife's glad welcome, nor the sight of little Louise Elizabeth lying fast asleep in her cradle, clad in her delicate foam-white dress, could altogether dispel his mood of gloom. He had kissed his wife, and kneeling beside the cradle had pressed his lips to the infant's soft cheek. He had lingered here for a minute, his eyes filled with a loving tenderness. Marie Françis stood nearby watching the beautiful scene. She was proud of her husband, and loved him with all the ardor of her affectionate nature. His troubles were her troubles, so his depressed manner lessened somewhat the joy of his home-coming. He had left her with the promise that he would return as soon as dinner was over and explain to her the cause of his depressed spirits.

Pierre de Joibert, Sieur de Soulanges et Marson was a man of outstanding ability. Through faithfulness to duty and hard work he had risen high in the favor of the Grand-fontaine. For his services to his king he had been awarded a Seigniory of several leagues in length along the eastern side of the Saint John River, with headquarters at Fort Jemseg. He had captured the place from Sir Thomas Temple the English commander, who had refused to give it up at the Treaty of Breda in 1667. Sieur de Soulanges had strengthened the palisade and armed the fort with five iron guns on wooden platforms. He thus felt quite secure against any ordinary attack that might be made.

But he had greater ambitions than merely maintaining a fortress in the wilderness. He wished to make it the centre of a thriving community. The land was fertile, so he desired to see the trees cleared, houses built, with fields of waving grain, meadows and gardens on all sides. The memory of his old home in the province of Champagne in sunny France was fresh in his mind, and he longed to make the region around the Jemseg a second Champagne in Acadia. As Seignior he would be ruler and under his guidance peace and plenty would abound.

With this laudable purpose in view, he had brought men from Quebec, parcelled out lands and helped them to build houses. They were single men, for the most part, and it was his intention that in a short time they should return to Quebec and obtain wives from among the "King's Girls" who were being brought out regularly from France. Such was his bright vision. But alas! after he had obtained the men, they became dissatisfied with the quiet hum-drum life of the place. It would take years to develop the land and such a prospect did not appeal to their restless natures. The free and careless life of the forest lured them away. The fur trade was attractive, and living with the Indians they could be a law unto themselves, unfettered by the rules meted out from the fort for their guidance. Thus the men from whom he had expected so much proved a sad disappointment.

And besides all this, these rangers were interfering with his own legitimate fur trade. He had expected to make considerable profit from his barter with the Indians, but the coureurs de bois were intercepting the natives and obtaining a large portion of the rich harvest which was rightfully his. He had, accordingly, decided to check this unlawful trade, and, in fact, he had been strongly urged to do so by Count Frontenac at Quebec. But so far he had been powerless to accomplish anything of an effective nature. The rangers were as elusive as the wind, and the Indians were unusually shy about coming to the fort. On his recent trip to the Big Lake he had found this to be especially so. The rangers were nowhere to be seen, and the few Indians he had met were not only reserved but in several cases were quite hostile. Then when he had returned to the fort and beheld the abandoned houses, and the lands lying neglected, he felt that his cup of disappointment was full to overflowing.

His officers knew what was troubling their leader and sympathized with him. They, too, were depressed, but as they ate the good things old Adrien and his wife Barbe had prepared, their naturally buoyant spirits revived. Such men could not remain downcast for any length of time with an abundance of excellent food before them, so ere long they were talking and laughing over incidents that had happened on their recent trip.

The room where the officers were assembled was the largest in the building, and was used for various purposes. The rough-hewn logs which formed the walls were adorned with trophies of the chase, such as antlers of moose, deer, and caribou. Muskets hung on wooden pegs, beneath which were crossed swords and bayonets. There were also racks of fire-arms, loaded and ready for use.

A large stone fire-place had been built on one side of the room, over which was a magnificent pair of moose antlers, the pride of the commander. In winter the fire-place was the centre of attraction when blazing logs gave out their comforting heat. Now, however, the spacious opening was ablaze with a profusion of wild flowers. De Soulanges looked at them more than once, and his heart quickened, for he was well aware whose hands had placed them there for his sake. Marie loved flowers, and he always enjoyed watching her as she gathered the beautiful blossoms along the river bank and woodland ways.

He was thinking of her, and at the same time listening to Jean LeJeune who had joined them and was telling of his efforts to induce the rangers to return to their farms.

"They are as slippery as eels," he declared. "Several times they agreed to meet me at a certain place, but they never came. Then, when I happened to meet them later they had all sorts of excuses to offer. They said they liked the life of freedom in the forest and objected to the long hard work of clearing the lands which had been given them. Others were not in favor of married life. If they had wives and children they would be forced to stay at home, and there would be an end to their happy wandering existence. Several said there were no wives to be obtained. When I told them about the King's girls they said it was too risky an undertaking to choose a wife as one would a horse or a cow just by viewing her on exhibition."

"I agree with them," Claude Petain declared, as he helped himself to another choice portion of wild duck. "When I marry I shall not pick a wife at random from girls lined up in a row. I want to know something about her."

"Oh, girls are always on review," Noel LeBlanc retorted. "You never know them until after marriage, and then it is too late. You are fast bound until death. Marriage is fatal to a man's freedom."

"Not always," the commander somewhat sternly defended, speaking for the first time. He was thinking of Marie Françis, and this his officers knew, so they wisely changed the subject of conversation.

"I can understand about the rangers, and that there is little prospect of doing anything with them," Gervais Romaine remarked. "But what about the Indians? We have failed in getting the land cleared, and we are also in danger of losing the fur trade. We must win the natives."

"We can never do that while they are under the sway of Paul Norvall," LeJeune replied.

"The Red Ranger?" the commander queried.

"Yes, he's the man, and it's wonderful what an influence he has over the Indians. They do just what he says. He is an Englishman, so that explains his hatred to us."

"Although I have never met him he has been a great trouble to me ever since I came here," de Soulanges declared. "His father was killed when I took this fort, so that explains his hatred to us. I should like to get my hands on him."

"If you touch him, sir, the Indians will be upon you like raging devils," LeJeune reminded.

"Ah, so I have heard time and time again. But I am getting tired of that cry. If the Indians are to rule, we might as well give up first as last. But I do not intend to quit without a struggle. If the Indians want to fight, they can come at any time. They must be taught a lesson, and so must that Red Ranger."

"Be careful, sir," Jean advised. "You can defend this fort for a time, no doubt, but if the Indians go on the warpath against us, they could soon starve us out. No one would dare to venture forth for food with those devils prowling around."

De Soulanges realised that these words were only too true. It was galling and humiliating to a commander to be at the mercy of uncouth natives, led by a young man, and an Englishman, at that. He wondered if he could believe all that Jean said. He was not altogether certain of this smooth-tongued fellow. He spent most of his time with the rangers, pretending that he was trying to induce them to return to their lands. But was he really doing this? Perhaps he was in league with them, and was thus playing a double game.

Sieur de Soulanges knew a great deal about men and their ways, for he had lived all his life among them. He was also a keen student of character. He knew very well about the intrigues that were often seething under the calm outward demeanor of polite society. There were jealousies, too, of the subordinates to their superior officers. Fair and loyal words were often only masks to the hatred which burned within. It was so elsewhere, and he must expect the same here. But he had chosen his men with great care and so far he had found no occasion to distrust any of them. Jean LeJeune, however, was different. He was not one of his carefully-chosen band, but merely an outsider, one he believed who would be useful in watching the rangers and reporting to him their doings. But the more he saw of Jean, the less he liked him. He had too glib a tongue, and his eyes were shifty, which to the commander were not favorable signs.

And this day he doubted Jean more than ever. Perhaps it was due to his words about the Indians and the rangers. He had advised caution in dealing with the former, and especially with the Red Ranger, which was not according to his liking. He decided to do nothing at present, however, but to keep a stricter watch upon Jean in the future.

Dinner was just ended, and the men were about to rise from the table when Paul Norvall walked into the room. His sudden and unannounced appearance startled the little group, and they stared at him in amazement. Jean alone recognized him, and he rose quickly to his feet.

"The Red Ranger!" he gasped, and his face grew pale with apprehension. He knew that it must be something out of the ordinary that would cause Paul to confront his enemies and thus place himself at their mercy. And so did Sieur de Soulanges. He, too, rose to his feet, advanced a few steps and waited. It was a tense dramatic situation. As these two men met for the first time each swiftly estimated the other. The commander was strongly impressed not only by the visitor's courage, but also by his straight tall form, his steady fearless eyes, and his easy manly bearing. Here was a man after his own heart, and he felt that he could trust him even though he was his deadly enemy.

And Paul's opinion of de Soulanges was no less favorable. He had seen him once before at the capture of the fort when his father had been killed. But he had no clear recollection of the French commander, owing to the confusion and excitement that had then prevailed. But he had always thought of him as a villain, a cruel monster of iniquity. But now he saw before him a man of fine personal appearance, and every inch a soldier. He longed to fight him to see what he could do. Intuitively he laid his right hand upon the handle of his knife at his belt. The commander seeing this movement, gave a slight start and was about to reach for his sword at his side. Then a sudden smile broke over his stern face like sunshine from thick clouds. He stepped swiftly forward and held out his right hand. Surprised beyond measure, Paul stared hard and then a peculiar thrill passed through his body. Here was the man who had caused his father's death. Instead of shaking hands with his enemy, he had a great desire to leap upon him and fight him to the finish. His face, eyes and tense body expressed his feeling. Slowly he drew the knife from its sheath. His eyes never left the commander's face. The wild beast within him was stirred, and he seemed like a watchful tiger ready to spring.

Sieur de Soulanges knew how to control himself. He was very calm and showed no sign of fear. He was a great fighter and nothing would have pleased him better than to cross swords with a worthy opponent. But he did not wish to fight a man armed only with a sheath-knife. Such a thing would have been beneath his dignity. Had he known, though, of Paul's skill with his knife he would not have felt so confident. But he did not know, which, perhaps, was fortunate. He spoke, and his voice was friendly.

"This is an unexpected pleasure. Allow me to welcome you to Fort Jemseg. Have you dined? We have an abundance left," and he motioned to the table.

These agreeable words caused Paul to drop the knife back into its sheath. He straightened suddenly up from his somewhat crouching position and squared his shoulders.

"I come to warn you of danger," he said. "The Dutchmen are coming."

This startling announcement brought all the men to their feet in an instant. An anxious expression came into the commander's eyes as he fixed them keenly upon the messenger's face.

"The Dutchmen are coming! What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. A Dutch man of war, loaded with men, is on its way here. They destroyed Pierre LeNoir's post on Isle au Garce last night."

Sieur de Soulanges stood like a statue for a few seconds. His face darkened, and his eyes blazed with anger. Even Paul was deeply impressed by his wrathful appearance.

"How do you know this, young man? Are you sure?"

"I only know what I have seen," Paul replied, somewhat nettled. "I saw it all. The Dutchmen attacked and destroyed the post. We rescued Pierre's daughter, and then waited some distance up river to learn what the enemy intended to do. There was no wind during the first part of the morning, but when a breeze came up with the tide, the man of war appeared around the island and headed up river. She should be here before long."

"Is she a big ship?"

"Very big, and crowded with men, as I said."

"Ah! It must be the Flying Horse with the pirate, Aernouts, in command. I knew he was raiding along the coast, but never expected him to come here."

This news filled his heart with dismay. He knew that his fort was in no position to withstand a siege, and his handful of men would be powerless against the raiders. But he would not give up without a struggle. He spoke briefly to his men to see to the guns, and then turned to Paul.

"Where is your canoe?"

"Down by the landing. My Indians and Pierre's daughter are there."

The commander stood for a minute lost in thought. He then looked keenly into the young man's eyes.

"Will you do me a favor? I feel I can trust you."

"What is it?"

"I want you to take my wife and little baby girl to a place of safety. They must not be here when the raiders come. Something might happen to them should those devils capture this place."

"Where shall I take them?"

"Up the creek on the opposite side of the river. I have had a cabin built for just such an emergency as this. I shall send a canoe or two along with you to carry blankets and provisions. You know the way, of course, up the Jemseg, and then to the main river by the little creek and the portage."

"I know it very well. You can leave everything to me. But what about Pierre's daughter?"

"Take her along, too. She can help my wife."

Paul watched the commander as he walked across the room and passed through a door on the left. What a man! And he was his deadliest enemy! Paul stood very still and erect for a few minutes. Admiration and hatred had so unexpectedly clashed that he was bewildered. The men had all gone, and Jean also. Paul turned and left the building. As he reached the big gate of the palisade, a bell from one of the bastions sounded forth its warning of danger to the few people living near the fort. He looked down river, and far in the distance he beheld the gleaming sails of the Flying Horse bearing strongly upward on her mission of destruction.