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We indulged in little conversation, reclining on the short grass,
partaking of our cold meal. The Chevalier attempted a sorry jest or
two, yet soon subsided, discovering so unresponsive an audience. It
was plain to my mind the reflections of Madame were altogether with her
father--lying dead before this hour--and this sad memory darkened even
the delight of her husband's safety. His affected gayety of manner,
and reckless speech, jarred more harshly upon her in this hour than
perhaps ever before in her life. Yet she made a pathetically brave
effort to appear of good cheer, managing to eat with us, although it
was easy to perceive the food choked her, while her eyes were blurred
with tears resolutely held in restraint. It was plain, I say, yet this
is but my thought, for I question whether De Noyan, in his careless
mood, observed her depression. He was of a nature reflecting slightly
on any save himself; past sorrow being quickly forgotten in any present
gleam of sun. As we thus ended this silent meal it occurred to me they
might require slumber more than I, and I expressed my willingness to
stand guard while they sought rest. Perhaps my face told a tale of
weariness easily read, for this proposal met immediate resistance.

"No, no, Geoffrey Benteen," exclaimed Madame impulsively, "what have I
done except sit quietly in a boat, waiting the passing of the hours?
You have been through strain and labor which wears out life. It is you
who will lie here upon my wrap, trusting me to call should need arise."

"Hush, both of you," impatiently burst in De Noyan, rising to his feet,
and gazing across the sparkling water. "A watch would have small
value. There is no safer spot on all the lower river than this; if the
Dons discover it, no way of escape exists even were we all awake and
ready. To remain quiet is all we can do, and how can we accomplish
that better than by going to sleep? _Sacre_! I am a soldier, and not
apt to make light of a guard, yet," and he stifled a yawn, "I see no
necessity here, nor could I be more completely played after a night of
dancing at a Creole ball."

Thus the matter was agreed upon, not altogether to my liking, but I
yielded owing to too great weariness to argue. At first Madame
protested she could not sleep, yet finally consented to lie down. As
to myself my head had scarcely pressed the soft pillow of grass before
I was lost in slumber.

A blessing of youth lies in the fact that sleep then truly gives rest.
The tired body responds so thoroughly to the gentle touch of slumber
that the latter becomes a magician capable of restoring every faculty
to complete power. It was thus I rested motionless, and it was nearly
evening before I stirred, although the sun must have been streaming
directly across my upturned face for hours. I awoke to perfect
consciousness of our situation, as naturally as ever in a bed at home.
Dimly impressed that some unusual noise had aroused me, I immediately
sat upright. This change of posture brought my eyes on a level with
the tops of the cane on either side, and, my face being turned
southward, there was outspread before me the full, broad sweep of the
Mississippi, glinting under the westering sun, so that for a moment it
dazzled eyes yet clogged with the heaviness of sleep. Then I perceived
what afforded me so severe a shock that I ducked hastily down into my
covert, every faculty instantly alert. Close in against the reeds, as
though skirting the low line of the shore, loomed the black outline of
a large boat.

Coming bow on toward the place of our concealment, every eye in her
would naturally be scanning the spot where we lay hidden, and I durst
not raise my head again until assured they had passed by. I rolled
partially over to gain view of the others of our own party. Both were
slumbering heavily, Eloise near the western edge of the little grass
plot, wrapped within a great shawl so as to leave not even her head
visible, while De Noyan rested within easy reach of my outstretched
arm, breathing so heavily I felt it safer to arouse him, before that
strange boat should come abreast. It required severe shaking, his
sleep being that of sheer exhaustion, yet he proved sufficiently a
trained soldier to obey instantly my signal for silence. Nor were
words needed to explain the reason, as by this time the sound of oars
was clearly audible. Suddenly some one spoke, apparently at our very
side. Lying as I was I noticed the shawl pushed hastily down from
Madame's face, her brown eyes gazing questioningly across into my own;
yet, with rare self-control, not so much as a limb quivered.

"I tell you, _padre_, there's nothing along this cursed cane-marsh,"
growled a deep rumbling voice in Spanish. "It is a mere bog, in which
a man would sink to his armpits, were he to venture outside the boat."

"Bog it may be," retorted a sharper, petulant voice, the sound of which
was oddly familiar, "but I tell you this, Senor, 'tis on this very
shore French gallants come hunting from New Orleans. There is dry land
in plenty beyond the fringe of reeds."

"_Saprista_! there may be, as there may be water in Hell, but I 'll
never tangle my boat amid that mass of cane to make its discovery. Let
the frog-eaters have it, say I; the saints bless them. Come, pull away
sharply, lads, and we'll see what the shore-line looks like above."

The sound of dipping oars instantly increased in rapidity.

"You are one pig-headed fool of an officer, Senor," snarled the sharp
voice contemptuously.

"Mother of God!" roared the other, enraged. "Speak so again, you dog
of a French priest, and even your gray robe will not save you from
tasting the mud at the bottom. Do you want to know what I think of
you? Well, I 'll tell you, you snivelling, drunken singer of
paternosters--you did more to help that fellow escape than you 'd care
to have known. Now you 're trying to hold us back until he has time to
get safely away up the river. That's my opinion of you, you snarling
gray-back, and if you dare breathe another word, I 'll give orders to
chuck you overboard."

"Where do you purpose going?" ventured the cowed priest, in a subdued
tone.

"Straight up the stream. That's where your cursed Frenchman has
disappeared so swiftly, unless the guard at the North Gate shot him, as
they swear to O'Reilly. So sit there quiet, and hold your tongue--you
may command the Devil, for all I care, but I 'm in charge of this boat."

The sound of angry controversy died away in the distance. Cautiously I
lifted my eyes to the level of the cane, and peered over. The Spanish
boat, a large one propelled by the vigorous sweep of twelve oars, was
already a hundred yards above, swiftly stemming the current. From
their gestures I judged the debate yet raged between the gray-robe
crouched in the stern, and the big, burly fellow, resplendent in gold
lace, standing up and urging his oarsmen to greater exertion. Within
ten minutes they rounded the upper point, and when they again appeared
within vision, the boat was a mere dot floating in the midst of the
golden sunshine, where the setting sun gave a good-night kiss to the
vast, sombre river.

De Noyan's boyish face was aglow with unconcealed amusement as I turned
toward him.

"Well, Benteen," he asked, twirling his moustache, and staring after
them, "what was it the Dons said? _Peste_! I could not make out a
word of their lingo, except when the fellows swore."

I repeated to him the conversation, and he burst into a hearty laugh.

"Indeed, a sweet-scented Frenchman, that Capuchin priest," he said
carelessly. "I wonder what has so set the drunken fool against me?"

"It is not you, Chevalier," I acknowledged, feeling a touch of his
spirit; "it is rather that lad who landed so heavily behind his ear
last night, and who ran such a merry masquerade in monk's robe as never
Spanish war-ship saw before. I warrant it is I the holy father seeks
so savagely. Faith, it would be pleasant to know how he got out of the
pickle in which I left him. 'T is odd the Dons did not use him in your
place."

"Ay, that will be the cause, for I did nothing to anger the fellow,
except it was to laugh at his prayers, with a joke at the quality of
his Latin. But Dieu protect you, Monsieur, if ever he gets whip-hand.
A revengeful priest is more to be feared than a rabid dog. I stirred
one of his breed once at the Cathedral by some wild prank, and carry
the scar of it still. But come, it becomes dusk. Let's break our
fast, and while eating consider the best plan for the night. Eloise,
do you awaken refreshed?"

She came quickly forward, a smile for us both, looking dainty and
sweet, although the heavy mass of brown hair appeared somewhat
dishevelled from her unaccustomed pillow.

"I must have been exceedingly tired," she confessed pleasantly, "for I
slept with never a dream, and this is my first experience of lying
without the covering of a roof. It was all strange and solemn at
first, with never a sound except the dismal whispering of wind through
the cane, and the dull murmur of the river. The very, stillness, no
doubt, lulled me to slumber. Nay!" and she sprang hastily forward,
taking from my hands the few provisions I was bearing. "That is to be
my part of the work, Geoffrey Benteen, not yours. You will find hard
enough task before morning, while there remains so little for me that I
refuse to be robbed of any rights."

I realized, watching her prepare our scant meal, that she was bravely
endeavoring to appear gay, while her heart remained heavy from memory
of her father. Whether this assumed levity deceived De Noyan I cannot
say--he was of a volatile nature, easily swayed by either smile or
tear, and instantly joined responsive to her seeming mood. I left them
thus, engaged in pleasant badinage, while seeking some spot where I
might bathe my heated face. It was no small hardship to watch them
thus together.

Seated upon the grass, lingering over the rude repast, we discussed our
situation, seeking to outline vaguely our future plans. De Noyan was
for keeping close against the western bank as we progressed northward.
He had hunted amid the marshes, and remembered sufficiently the
formation of the shore-line to be aware that for several leagues it
remained thickly skirted by small islands, while numerous bayous
offered secure hiding-places. In this choice I acquiesced, urging also
that the downward flow of the current would sweep with greater force
along the opposite shore; besides which the search-boat, just passing
us on the way up-stream, would be more likely to return along the
eastern bank.

"There is no reason," I continued, "why we should delay departure
longer. We can keep the boat beneath the shadows of the bank, and even
if the Dons stop to make camp, they would hardly do so without building
a fire, which would afford ample warning to sheer out into the stream.
If they return along this shore--as is unlikely--we should hear the
heavy strokes of their oars before they caught the sound of our lighter
ones. I am for embarking at once."

This agreed upon, within a half-hour we were pushing slow passage
through the thick cane, soon finding ourselves once again afloat upon
the broad water, the prow of our boat turned up-stream, while here and
there a dim star winked down upon us between scurrying clouds.




CHAPTER XI

A NIGHT IN THE BOAT

This was one of many nights we passed in the narrow confines of the
boat during our flight northward. Yet its incidents remain in memory
with peculiar distinctness of detail. I do not recall exactly how it
occurred, but my duty during that first night chanced to place me at
the after oar. In consequence I sat directly facing Madame de Noyan,
operating the rudder bar. It was so warm, merely a delicate, fragrant
breeze blowing from the south, she had felt no necessity for drawing up
her hood, and the soft light of distant stars, glimmering along the
bosom of the river, reflected back into her face, illumining it until I
could almost note the changing expression within her dark eyes.

It was a sadder, graver face than the one I associated with her
girlhood. Yet I could scarce forbear an impression that it was now a
sweeter one, more womanly, faint lines beginning to mark its satin
smoothness with impress of sorrow. To my thought a new, higher
womanhood had found birth within, during weary days and nights of
suspense and suffering. It was yet torture to me constantly beholding
these two together, but, as I observed her then, I thanked the good God
who had permitted me to be near her in time of trial. In patience I
would serve, even though I must suffer. Tears were clinging to her
long lashes, and occasionally one would glitter an instant upon her
white cheek, as she leaned her face upon one hand, from which the loose
sleeve fell away, revealing an arm like chiselled marble. She made no
effort at concealing these evidences of emotion, doubtless believing
them sufficiently hidden by the gloomy shadows. Nor did she appear to
glance at me, keeping her own gaze directly ahead, where the dark,
swirling waters merged into the mystery of the North.

We were none of us in talkative mood--although I heard De Noyan, behind
me, humming a light French air, as though perfectly free from
trouble--and I have no recollection of exchanging a word for more than
an hour. We merely continued to pull sturdily against the downward
rush of the stream, the deep silence of the night broken only by the
dripping of uplifted blades, or the occasional far-off hooting of an
owl upon the bank to our left. The pressure of the river's current was
scarcely perceptible close against the shore, so we made fair progress.
Yet it was hard work, neither of us being accustomed to such exercise,
the heavy oars feeling awkward to the hand. The grim uncertainty of
the future, coupled with our solitary surroundings, exercised a
depressing influence upon the spirits of each, although differing
widely in degree, according to our several natures. Undoubtedly this
same sense of dreariness led De Noyan to sing, caused me such painful
restlessness under that same singing, and left Eloise saddened in her
lonely thoughts.

Every occurrence impressed me that night as unusual. Perchance this
was because both heart and head were sadly out of tune. Yet, at best,
it was a lonesome journey, and remains a grewsome memory, haunting with
many a spectre, as weird as the shadows of delirium. The few stars,
peeping shyly forth between scurrying black cloud masses, were so far
away they merely silvered the cloud edges, leaving them as though
carven from granite. The low shore, often within reach of our oar
blades, appeared gloomy and inhospitable, the spectral rushes creeping
far out upon the water like living things, seeming to grasp after us as
the wind swept them, and we glided past in phantom silence. Beyond,
like a great black wall, arose higher ground, occasionally jutting into
bare bluffs outlined against the lighter sky; again diversified by
gaunt dead trees, their fleshless limbs extended upward toward ghostly
pillars of vapor ever floating from off the river's surface.
Occasionally, jaggedly uneven, close-set trunks of forest growth would
appear, spectral in solemn ugliness, a veritable hedge, impenetrable
and grim.

If, with a shudder of disgust, I turned away from that lorn, dead line
of shore, my eyes swept a waste of waters slipping solemnly past, while
farther out, where sky and stream met and mingled in wild riot, the
surging river swirled and leaped, its white-capped waves evidencing
resistless volume. It was a sight to awe one, that immense mass
pouring forth from the upper darkness, flashing an instant beneath the
star-gleam, only to disappear, a restless, relentless flood, black,
unpitying, impenetrable, mysterious, a savage monster, beyond whose
outstretched claws we crept, yet who at any moment might clutch us
helpless in a horrible embrace. It was a sight to stun, that brutal
flood, gliding ever downward, while, far as eye could see, stretched
the same drear expanse of cruel waters.

From out that mystery would suddenly emerge, rolling toward us, as if
born of the shadows, some grim apparition, a wildly tossing figure,
with gaunt, uplifted arms beating the air, to startle for an instant,
then fade from our ken into the dimness below. Well I knew it was only
driftwood, the gnarled trunk of uprooted tree made sport with by mad
waves, yet more than once I shrank backward, my unstrung nerves
tingling, as such shapeless, uncanny thing was hurled past like an
arrow. Nor were the noises that broke the silence less fearsome. Bred
to the wilderness, I little minded loneliness when in the depths of the
backwoods, but this was different. I cared nothing for the honk of
wild fowl overhead, nor those sounds of varied animal life borne to us
from off the black land; but that strange, dull roar, caused by great
logs grinding together in the swirl of the current, and the groaning of
bits of undermined shore as they gave way and dropped heavily into the
water, racked my nerves.

The peace I found lay in that sweet face, turned partially away, yet
appearing fairer than ever beneath the protecting hood, drawn up as the
night air grew chill. Whether similar sense of strangeness and
timidity rested upon her, I could not determine, yet I believed her
thoughts so far away that our present surroundings were no more to her
than the vaguest dream. She scarcely stirred during all the hours I
watched her; only once did she glance up, to smile as she met my eyes
before I could withdraw them from her face. Had she read aright their
message, perchance this story might never have been written; yet purer,
truer love no man ever gave to woman. We must have continued thus,
pulling silently, for hours before De Noyan broke the oppressive
silence with impatient speech. Indeed, not the least impressive
feature of the grewsome night was his continued stillness.

"_Le Diable_!" he exclaimed uneasily, shifting in his seat. "If the
Styx be more gloomy than this accursed stream, then Jesu pity its
voyagers. Never have I put in so miserable a night, to say nothing of
a strained back, and a pair of sore hands. What are those black,
crawling things yonder? _Mon Dieu_! I have seen a thousand hideous
demons since we left the cane."

I glanced across my shoulder in the direction he pointed, glad enough
to hear once again the sound of a voice.

"Only the fire-seared branch of a tree tossed on the current--the night
rests heavily upon your nerves."

"Heavily? _Parbleu_! it has unmanned me with hideous silence, with
creeping, ghostly mystery, until I am half mad, scarcely daring to
whisper, in fear of my own voice. Eloise, are you there? or have the
spectres of this haunted journey flown away with you?"

"Angels or demons, they would have naught of me," she replied in
seeming unconsciousness of his mood. "My thoughts, I fear, have been
sufficiently sad to accord well with the gloom, only my shadows are
within, not without."

"_Sacre_! mine are all yonder," he exclaimed, indicating with a gesture
the vast extent of angry water. "Why should I bear heavy heart, except
for brooding phantoms of the night? Life is still mine in all its
sweetness. Not that I greatly valued it, to be sure, yet 'tis somewhat
better than I once thought, and there is always pleasure left in the
world for the young. From whence springs your mood of sadness, Eloise?"

"My thought was with my father."

"'Tis not strange it should be. Yet, it might be better if you dwelt
upon the brighter view of our own future. He is at rest; no tears can
be of aid. But we can look forward to dreams of happiness. 'Tis my
plan to cross the great ocean, seeking better fortune on the Continent.
France, they say, has ever a vacant place for a good sword, nor is the
king likely to refuse service to a nephew of Bienville. You and I,
Eloise, shall yet tread the Paris streets, nor shall we go as beggars."

I marked her quick smile, but thought it not wholly untouched by
sadness, as she attempted answer.

"We will hope for the best; yet, Monsieur, we are still deeply buried
in the wilderness. Ay! worse--in the country of our enemies. You may
not comprehend the full truth of this, but Spain lays claim now to all
this great river, with the country bordering it. O'Reilly has already
despatched soldiers as high as the mouth of the Ohio, to guard its
passage; so there is peril lurking before us, as well as behind."

"O'Reilly has sent soldiers northward? How know you this, Eloise?"

"It was common talk in the town. I saw with my own eyes the departure
of one expedition. It was composed of a captain, with twelve soldiers,
destined for the Ohio. I have heard that twice since others have been
despatched northward, although to what points was unknown."

"The saints defend us! 'tis indeed serious. I supposed the boat which
passed contained all the Dons on the upper river, but if this be true
we may have to desert the stream, and take to the eastern trail on
foot. _Sacre_! I like it not! What say you, you sphinx of an English
borderman? Knew you this all along?"

"It is news to me," I answered soberly. "But if three expeditions have
already been despatched north, there is little hope the land routes
have been forgotten. Beyond doubt every trail, white or Indian,
leading toward French or English settlements, is by now patrolled by
the Dons. Nor can we hope to gain passage by surprise. That
man-of-war boat will spread far the rumor of your escape, so every
Spaniard between here and the Ohio will be on the lookout for our
coming."

I imagine the same thought stole into the mind of both, how easily we
two, travelling light, might press our way through that scattered line
of guard, and attain the upper Ohio; how easily, only for the danger
and distress to which so desperate an attempt would expose her. She
alone ventured to give the idea utterance.

"Messieurs," she said earnestly, her calm brown eyes uplifted to our
faces, "I have been considering this for an hour past. I know you
would experience small trouble eluding the Spaniards, or even cutting
your way through them, were I not with you. Yet this is not beyond
remedy. I had sincerely hoped to prove of service when I usurped the
slave's place in the boat; instead, I am an encumbrance, a weakling
whom you must protect at the risk of your own lives. Fortunately it is
not yet too late to leave you free; it cannot be many miles back to New
Orleans, and the current would bear me swiftly downward. I have loyal
friends in the town to hide the daughter of Lafreniere, should the
Spaniards wage war against a woman, and surely some means would open
whereby I might make the shores of France. Perhaps I should be there
in advance of you. What say you, Messieurs, to such proposal? Would
it not be best?"

The indignant feeling which swept me as I listened to this speech
hardly needs dwelling upon. Yet I held my tongue. It was the
privilege of De Noyan to make answer.

"_Parbleu_!" he cried, seemingly forgetful of caution in instant
enthusiasm. "You have as good a head as heart, Eloise. _Sacre_! never
before did I realize the treasure in my keeping. You gauge well the
wishes of a soldier; 't is not pleasant to one of my blood and training
to lurk thus in the shadows like a skulking spy. _Bish_! nor do I love
this toll at the oars--'tis the work of slaves. I would prefer
trusting all to the rapier, writing with its point a Frenchman's
message of defiance. Holy saints! I am already half inclined to say
yes to your proposal; yet Benteen, what word have you to speak
regarding this plan?"

"That if she goes back to New Orleans, I make the town in the same
boat," I answered shortly, angered by his flippant words and tone.
"'Tis a plan not to be seriously considered a moment, Chevalier. If
carried out it would merely place Madame de Noyan in the power of Cruel
O'Reilly. I doubt if the sacrifice would preserve our worthless lives.
She can only return by means of the boat; with that gone, we should be
compelled to plunge, unprovisioned, into a trackless wilderness,
feeling our way blindly for hundreds of leagues through unknown, savage
tribes. If we survived their cruelty we should be crazed with hunger
and fatigue long before our eyes were gladdened at sight of the upper
Ohio. I do not say such a journey could not be made, but I retain
vivid memory of one such trip, nor will I lightly seek another. I
imagine, Captain, you have small conception of the horrors of the black
forests, when you choose recklessly to plunge into their depths."

"I served against the Creeks," he announced somewhat sullenly.

"So I heard, yet that was mostly boys' play; armored men pitted against
naked savages. You would discover different foemen among the mountain
tribes to the north and east. Do not suppose I question your courage,
but I realize the dangers, as you cannot from your town life, while as
to Madame de Noyan, she will be safer here with us than with those
black brutes in New Orleans."

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