The Plowshare and the Sword Part 26

The priest moved back, and the two soldiers, the officer and the fighting-man, stared into each other's eyes.

"Had I known this, Jean-Marie----" began the commandant; but the figure upon the pallia.s.se, straining from death as a dog from the leash, broke in upon him.

"Cousin, you knew. When I have pa.s.sed have you not averted your eyes, ashamed of the man who has had neither the wit nor the opportunity to rise? You have made yourself great, and I--but this is no time for calling up the past. I am spent. Come to me, cousin--nearer. Why, commandant, art afraid of a dying man?"

"Is he dying?"

"He is in G.o.d's hands," the priest answered; and the woman grumbled: "Yes, yes, and a long time lying there, keeping me from my bed."

"Out!" said Roussilac, turning upon her. "Out, and repeat not what you may have heard."

The woman slunk away frightened.

"Ah, cousin, that old manner," smiled Jean-Marie. "So spoke you as a boy. They said you would find greatness. My father would say, 'He is a Brutus. Would condemn his own son.' I know not who Brutus was, but my father was a learned man."

He coughed terribly and lay back gasping.

"Say what lies upon your mind and have done," reproved St Agapit. "I would have you die with better thoughts."

"Cousin," panted Jean-Marie, "I forgive you as I hope for mercy. Place now your hand on mine."

Roussilac did so, shrinking at the freezing contact.

"Your aunt and uncle and Madeleine your cousin dwell in this land, two days' journey beyond the river. My father was hunted for his life.

They called him a wizard. You know? Yes, once at home you might have s.h.i.+elded him, but there was your advancement to be thought on. Swear to me to find them. Tell Madeleine how I died. Be good to her. Ah, cousin, be a brother to Madeleine. You shall find her the fairest sister in all this world. Swear to bring them from their solitude, to protect my father. Swear before this holy priest to feed and clothe them if they be in want, to care for them, and be to them a brother and a son."

Roussilac, who had softened for the moment, grew again stern. His position was not so sure that it could withstand the attacks of tongues that might whisper at home that the young governor of the new colony sheltered a heretic uncle. Jean-Marie was quick to note the change.

He knew the hardness of his cousin's heart.

"Swear to me, or have my shadow cursing you through life."

The priest put out his arm with a word of adjuration.

"The crucifix," the commandant muttered.

St Agapit held it over the dying man.

"Touch not the sacred symbol without a prayer, my son. Beware G.o.d's wrath!"

With one hand grasping the cold fingers, the other pressed fearfully upon the metal figure thrilling in the priest's grasp, Roussilac took the oath that was required of him.

"And that I will keep it, I call G.o.d, our Lady, and the blessed saints to witness!" he concluded in a hushed voice.

Hardly had he spoken, and while he still watched his cousin lying white with the light fading from his eyes, the fortress from end to end became tumultuous. A gun roared, a din of shouting, the thud of flying feet, the shriek of women, the cry of his soldiery swept up the slope in wave upon wave of uproar.

"An attack!" he cried. "And I am from my post!"

"Peace!" said St Agapit, with a frown. "The G.o.d of battles is not here."

"Arnaud," came the hollow whisper out of the tumult, "I have more to say. My voice goes. I pray you bend your head."

"I came secretly," said Roussilac wildly. "I cannot stay. Father, duty is calling me. My reputation, my position----"

"Your family," said the priest, pointing sternly.

The night air became a storm with the shout: "The Iroquois! The Iroquois are upon us!"

"Cousin!" whispered the dying man.

"My position!" cried the commandant; and turning with the confession he caught up his cloak, saying: "I will return. I will come back to you, Jean-Marie. My country calls me."

"His ambition!" murmured the lean priest, as the door swung back, and the tumult rolled in like a raging sea flung upon a cave.

CHAPTER XXI.

IRON AND STEEL.

The fortress was invested upon three sides: up the precipitous westward slope swarmed the Senacas and Cayugas; the fan-shaped body of the Onondagas advanced from the east, where the ground was broken; eastward and westerly on the valley side, where the attackers hoped to strike the victorious blow, the confederate bands of the Mohawks and Oneidas lay hidden, awaiting the signal which had been agreed upon. The river occupied the line to the south, and between its banks and the enemy ambushed in the valley an outlet was left in order that the French might be given the opportunity of vacating their position. Once in open country, they might be broken up into bands and hunted down.

The attack from west and north had been arranged to draw the French from the one point where the fortress was vulnerable. It appeared as though the besieged were tumbling blindfold into the trap, which a general of experience would have at once suspected. Every fighting-man in the fortress a.s.sembled to hold the almost impregnable heights. In the absence of the leader this mistake was pardonable. There the noise of battle was terrific. The wild light of the bush fire beyond the river flung its shadows over the gra.s.s hill and cast into detail figures and flas.h.i.+ng tomahawks. A storm of hissing arrows swept over the rocks. The bronze-skinned warriors rushed up and climbed the heights. The bravest of the Senacas, that hardy fighting race of the highlands, were already within the fortress, tomahawking the gunners with hideous yells.

The man-of-war was useless. Boats were let down, and the sailors flung ropes round the ends of the logs which supported the fire-raft, and towed the flaming peril away. Then the clumsy s.h.i.+p blundered up stream, only to find herself helplessly cut off from the enemy by the sheer wall of rock. She drifted back, and the master gave the order for the guns to be beached and dragged up the slope to strengthen the resources of the besieged.

"'Fore Heaven!" cried Van Vuren. "The natives win!"

The Dutchmen had perforce returned to watch the progress of the a.s.sault. They saw the Cayugas dealing blows against the summit, repulsed, but never actually losing ground. Each a.s.sault found the height invested more strongly by the overwhelming host. Similar success attended the ascent of the Onondagas. The rival factions swayed upon the distant summit, lit by the fire of the cannon.

The Dutchmen hovered in uncertainty, until the opposition yielded and the Indians began to burn the huts which looked down upon the river.

At this signal a shout went up from the valley, and the Mohawks and Oneidas rushed out to complete the work. At the same time Van Vuren gave the word, and the big men re-crossed the river, gained the level, and joined the sachems and doctors who were dancing and screaming at the foot of the hill.

Abruptly a line of soldiers formed upon the crest to the roaring of cannon, and these trained fighters bore down through the smoke, sweeping away the opposition as wind carries the snow. Immediately yells of dismay sounded above, where the Indians who had been trapped were being put to the sword. The blind repulse had at length given way to method.

A report had pa.s.sed about the fortress that Roussilac had been a.s.sa.s.sinated, and the body deprived of its brains became thereupon powerless to act. But Gaudriole came hopping from gun to gun, crying: "Courage, my comrades! I have seen the commandant. He did but go down to the chapel of Ste. Anne to confess his sins. See where he comes!

Long live our governor!"

The soldiers caught up his cry and fought with new energy when they beheld Roussilac's slight figure wrapped in a long cloak. He pa.s.sed deliberately from east to north, issuing his orders and rapidly altering the entire nature of the fight. The besieged became the attackers; the hunters became the hunted. Roussilac's pale face restored confidence. His contemptuous coolness brought victory within sight. Before setting the trap for the Cayugas and Senacas his martial eye had lingered upon the silent valley. There he concentrated his best fighters, and despatched an order to the s.h.i.+p, directing the master to bring up the naval guns. The sailors were soon at their work, dragging the light guns into position and training the muzzles upon the suspected valley, while powder-monkeys ran up with charge and ball, and the gunners arranged their port-fire.

With the attack of the previously ambushed Mohawks, the battle for possession may be said to have commenced. Skill, holding a position which subsequent history proved to be practically impregnable, became opposed by numbers blindly indifferent to death.

The Dutchmen fled at that repulse when the natives about them had been flung back almost to the forest. They halted upon the beach and deliberated on the practicability of flight through the smoking country which hemmed the opposite sh.o.r.e. It was then that Dutoit made the discovery that two of his men were missing.

"We cannot regain the bodies," said Van Vuren, when the announcement was made. "The French mayhap have already discovered them, and thus know that we have taken arms against them. Flight is now forced upon us."

Dawn was near when Hough reached the scene of action. The din of battle had carried over the land, driving the birds and beasts northward in fear, and he and his stout comrade had started out at once. Scarce a mile had been traversed when Penfold's leg gave way; he sent his companion on, and hobbled slowly along his track, hoping to be in before the end.

At a glance the Puritan perceived the flaw in the attack.