The Hunted Outlaw, or, Donald Morrison, the Canadian Rob Roy Part 9

Donald took Minnie's hand and wrung it hard. He bent down and kissed her forehead. "G.o.d bless you," he said--"farewell."

Then he rushed out of the house, and disappeared from view in the woods.

It was a party of five policemen, armed with rifles.

They were too late!

CHAPTER x.x.xII. MAJOR DUGAS MEETS THE OUTLAW FACE TO FACE--A UNIQUE INTERVIEW.

Minnie was right about the reinforcements, though the suggestion as to bloodhounds proved to be nothing but idle rumor. Fifteen men came from Quebec. The expedition numbered now thirty-five men. The search increased in rigor. The houses were visited day and night. The roads and the outskirts of the wood were watched almost constantly. Donald was not caught. He could not sleep in the houses of his friends, but he could make a bed in the woods. He could not venture to take a meal under a roof, but a neighbor woman could always manage to bring him a loaf of bread and a bottle of milk. The police visited his father's house, broke open his trunk, and took away all his letters, including poor Minnie's correspondence--an act which, when Donald knew of it, caused him to declare with an oath that if he met the man who did it, he would shoot him down like a dog.

Major Dugas was disgusted. He had been in the district nearly three weeks. He had tried conciliation. That had failed. He had tried severity. That, too, had failed. He had increased the searching force.

That, also, had availed nothing.

When, therefore, three of Donald's firmest friends approached the Major with the proposition that he should order the suspension of operations while he held an interview with the outlaw, they found him not indisposed to listen to the extraordinary proposal. Donald was to be found, and his friends pledged their honor that he would meet the Major when and where he pleased, provided the latter would give his word that he would take no measures to arrest him.

Major Dugas hesitated for a long time, but finally accepted the terms.

He was severely blamed in the press for parleying with an outlaw.

Whatever maybe said about the wisdom of the arrangement, in scrupulously observing the terms of it, Major Dugas acted like a gentleman and a man of honor. That he should be blamed for honoring his own pledged word proves how crude is the common code of ethics.

Major Dugas ordered the suspension of operations. In the company of Donald's friends, he drove to Marsden; and there, in a rude log school-house, he was introduced to the famous outlaw.

"You are alone, Major Dugas," Donald said suspiciously, keeping his hands upon his pistols.

"Quite alone," the Major replied. "I have acceded to the wish of your friends, in order to avert the possibility of bloodshed. Now, Morrison, I ask you to surrender like a sensible man. Your capture is only a matter of time. The Government must vindicate the law, no matter at what cost. Give yourself up, and I will do what in me lies to see that you get the utmost fair play in your trial. I speak to you now in a friendly way. I have no personal feeling in the matter. I am the instrument of the law. If this pursuit is continued, there will probably be bloodshed either on one side or the other. You are only making your position worse by holding out; and think what it will be if there is any more shooting."

"The Major speaks reasonably, Donald," Morrison's friends said, "for G.o.d's sake, take his advice."

"Can the Major give me the $900 of which I have been defrauded, to help me to conduct my defence?" Donald asked.

"I have nothing to do with your money matters whatever," the Major replied. "I can make no terms with you of that nature. I am here to urge your surrender on the grounds of prudence, for the sake of your own interests."

"It was very kind of you, Major, to grant this interview," the outlaw said, "but I can't surrender unless you can give me some promise, either of money or an acquittal."

"Oh, this is absurd," the Major said. "Our interview ends. Within six hours the pursuit will be recommenced. My last word to you, Morrison, is, don't make your case hopeless by shooting any more."

"I will take your advice, Major. I give you my word," Donald replied.

"Well, good-bye."

"Good-bye, sir."

Thus ended the memorable interview.

Major Dugas drove back to Stornaway in disgust. He ordered the resumption of the search, and upon the following morning left for Montreal.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII. THE EXPEDITION IS BROKEN UP.

Donald's friends were greatly disappointed. They fully expected that he would surrender himself to Major Dugas.

A few days subsequent to the interview it was announced that the expedition had been broken up. The Government had recalled all the men but five, who were left in charge of Detective Carpenter.

There was a tacit confession of failure.

The opposition press burst into a loud guffaw. "Was this the result of a year's effort to capture a criminal? Was this the return for all the expenditure which had been incurred?" The comic papers poked outrageous fun at the expedition. The ill.u.s.trated journals mocked it in pen and ink sketches that smarted like aquafortis. The ribald versifiers flouted it in metrical lampoons whose burden was--"The man I left behind me."

CHAPTER x.x.xIV. CARPENTER ON THE SCENT--A NARROW ESCAPE.

Carpenter had five men at his disposal, and he was sanguine that an unremitting pursuit must end in the capture of the outlaw. Consequently, upon the removal of the bulk of the expedition, he set himself to make such disposition of his men as would lead to the most substantial results. Where did Donald get his food? Where did he get changes of clothing? He _must_ pay visits to the houses in the neighborhood. They had been searched in vain. Very well. Let them be searched again. Let them be persistently watched. The outlaw would be tracked at last.

It was about ten o'clock at night. Dark, heavy clouds hung overhead like a mournful pall. A brooding darkness and silence enveloped the woods.

A figure parted the young branches, came out into the open, ran stealthily along the road, reached a small cottage, and disappeared within it.

Donald had tempted fate at a moment when fate, in the form of two eager officers of the law, was closing him in.

McMahon and the Indian scout were out that night. They had made a round of the cottages. Fatigued and a little dispirited, they were about to go back to their quarters, when a feeble glimmer of light was seen through the darkness, proceeding from the cottage which Donald had entered.

"Is it worth while to search it?" McMahon asked his companion doubtfully.

"Well," replied the scout, "we may as well take it in to wind up for the night. I don't suppose we'll have any luck."

"Not likely," McMahon said. Donald was eating a little plain supper, when the poor honest peasant woman whose hospitality he was sharing, thought she heard footsteps outside the door. She listened. "Donald," she said, in a quick, sharp voice, "I hear footsteps. They are approaching the door. It may be the police. What will you do?"

"I don't think they're about so late," Donald replied carelessly, feeling nevertheless for his pistols in his pockets.

"Donald, they're coming. It's the police. I'm sure of it. My G.o.d, if you should be taken. Here, quick! come into this bedroom, and lie quiet under the bed."

Donald sprang from his seat and did as he was directed. He was not a moment too soon.

The police knocked smartly at the door.

The woman opened it.

"Have you got Morrison here?" McMahon asked.

"Look and see," the woman replied.

The two men searched the four rooms of the small house, and then they sat down upon the bed beneath which, close to the wall, Donald was concealed!