Hardscrabble; or, the fall of Chicago Part 10

Elmsley, take the gla.s.s, and try what you can make of them."

The lieutenant gazed through the gla.s.s a moment, and then p.r.o.nounced name after name, as the men severally came under the range of the lens.

"Yes, sir, as you say, there is Corporal Nixon steering--then, with, their backs to us, and pulling, are first, Collins, then Green, then Jackson, then Weston, then Ca.s.s, and then Philips. But what they have in the bottom of the boat, for I now can see that plain enough, is not fish, sir, but a human body, and a dog crouched at its side. Yes! it is indeed the Frenchman's dog--Loup Garou."

"Well, I want to know!" exclaimed Ephraim Giles, who had ascended the bastion, and now stood amid the group of men, "I take it, that if that's Loup Garou, his master can't be far off. I never knowed them to be separate."

"Yes, sir, that is certainly a dead body," pursued the lieutenant--"somebody killed at the farm, no doubt. Have you any orders for the direction of the party, when they land, sir?" he inquired, as he handed back the gla.s.s to the captain.

"Just desire the drum to beat to parade," was the answer. "It wants only a few minutes of guard-mounting, and by the time the men have fallen in, and the roll is called, the boat will be here. Where is Mr. Ronayne?"

"I have not seen him this morning, sir, but believe that he is in his own rooms. He, however, knows the hour, and doubtless will be here presently."

"When the men have fallen in, come and report to me," said the captain, as he descended from the bastion, and proceeded to his own quarters, to eat his untasted breakfast.

The lieutenant touched his cap in a.s.sent, and then, having despatched a man with orders to the temporary drum-major, crossed over to the apartments of the ensign, anxious not only to excuse himself for not being able to receive his friend to his own breakfast, at the hour he had named, but to prepare him for the reception of the body of Mr.

Heywood, which he doubted not, was that now on its way for interment at his own house.

On entering the mess-room, in which they had taken their punch, the previous evening, everything bore evidence of a late debauch. Ashes and tobacco were liberally strewed upon the table, while around the empty bowl, were, in some disorder, pipes and gla.s.ses--one of each emptied of all but the ashes and sediment--the other two only half-smoked, half-full, and standing amid a pool of wet, which had evidently been spilt by a not very steady hand. The windows were closed, so that the smoke clung to what little furniture there was in the room, and the whole scent of the place was an abominable compound of stale tobacco and strong whisky.

A loud snoring in the room on his right attracted his attention. He knew that it was Von Vottenberg's, and he entered to see what had kept him in bed until that late hour. The surgeon, only half-undressed, was fast asleep, not within, but on the outside of the bed-clothes. Somewhat disgusted at the sight, for Elmsley was comparatively abstemious, he shook him not very gently, when the doctor, opening his eyes with a start, half-rose upon his elbow. "Ha!" he exclaimed, "I know you mean to say that breakfast is waiting; I had forgotten all about it, old fellow."

"I mean nothing of the kind," was the reply, "but I recommend you to lose no time in dressing and turning out. The men are already on parade, and if Captain Headley, finding that you are absent, tends over here to inquire the cause, I would not give much for your future chances of swallowing whisky-punch within the walls of Chicago."

"Eh? what! what!" spluttered the surgeon, as he jumped up, drew on his boots, dipped his face in a basin of water, and hastily completed his toilet. In less than five minutes he was on parade.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Elmsley, after giving this warning, had pa.s.sed again through the mess-room, and knocked at Ronayne's door. But there was no answer.

"Hilloa, Ronayne," he called loudly, as he turned the handle of the latch, "are YOU in bed too?"

But no Ronayne was there. He looked at the bed--like the doctor's, it had been laid upon, but no one had been within the clothes.

What was the meaning of this? After a few moments of delay, he flew back to Von Vottenberg's room, but the latter was already gone. Retracing his steps, he met Ronayne's servant entering at the mess-room door.

"Where is your master?" he inquired. "How is it that he is not in his room--has not been in bed?"

"Not been in bed?" repeated the lad, with surprise. "Why, sir, he told me last night that he was very drowsy and should lie late; and, that he mightn't be disturbed, he desired me to sleep in one of the block-houses. I was only to wake him in time for guard-mounting, and as it wants but ten minutes to that, I am just come to call him."

"Clean out the mess-room directly--open the windows, and pat every thing in order," said the lieutenant, fearing that Captain Headley might, on hearing of the absence of the young officer, pay his quarters a visit in search of some clue to the cause. "I see it all," he mused, as he moved across the parade-ground. "He would not, generous fellow, get me into a sc.r.a.pe, by making me privy to his design, and to avoid the difficulty of the gate, has got over the pickets somewhere--yet, if so, he must have had a rope, and a.s.sistance of some kind, for he never could have crossed them without. Yet, where can he be gone, and what could he have expected to result from his mad scheme? Had he waited until now, he would have known by the arrival of the fis.h.i.+ng-party with their sad charge, how utterly useless was all this risk."

"Well, Mr. Elmsley," said the captain, who now appeared at the front of his own door, fully dressed for parade, and preparing to issue forth in all the stateliness of command.

"The parade is formed, sir," remarked the lieutenant, confusedly, "but I cannot find the officer of the guard."

"Sir!" exclaimed Captain Headley.

"I cannot find Mr. Ronayne, sir--I have myself been over to his quarters, and looked into his bed-room, but it is clear that he has not been in bed all night."

"What is the meaning of all this? Send Doctor Von Vottenberg here immediately."

And lucky was it for that gentleman that the officer who now desired his attendance on the commandant had roused him from that Lethean slumber in which he had been, only a few minutes before, so luxuriously indulging.

"Doctor Von Vottenberg," commenced the captain, as soon as that official made his appearance before him; "you are quartered with Mr. Ronayne.

Have you seen any thing of him last night or this morning--no evasion, nay," seeing that the doctor's brow began to be overclouded, "I mean no attempt to s.h.i.+eld the young man by a suppression of the truth."

"I certainly saw him last night, Captain Headley, but not at a very late hour. We took a gla.s.s or two of punch, and smoked a couple of pipes together, but we both went to bed early, and for my part, I know that I slept so soundly as to have heard nothing--seen nothing, until I got up this morning."

The doctor spoke truly as to the time of their retirement to rest, for the ensign had left him early in the night, while he had found his way to his own bed, early in the morning.

"The boat is nearing the landing-place, sir," reported the sergeant of the guard, who now came up, and more immediately addressed Lieutenant Elmsley.

This information, for the moment, banished the subject under discussion.

"Let the men pile their arms," ordered Captain Headley; "and when this is done, Mr. Elmsley, follow me to the landing-place."

In a few minutes both officers were there. The boat was within fifty yards, when the subaltern joined his captain; and the oarsmen, evidently desirous of doing their best in the presence of the commanding officer, were polling silently and with a vigor that soon brought it to its accustomed berth.

"What body is that, Corporal Nixon?" inquired the latter, "and how is it that you are only here this morning?"

"Sir," answered the corporal, removing one of his hands from the steer-oar, and respectfully touching his cap, "it's poor Le Noir, the Frenchman, killed by the Injins yesterday, and as for our absence, it couldn't be helped, sir; but it's a long report I have to make, and perhaps, captain, you would like to hear it more at leisure than I can tell it here."

By this time the men had landed from the boat, leaving the Canadian to be disposed of afterwards as the commanding officer might direct. The quick eye of the latter immediately detected the slight limping of Green, whose wound had become stiff from neglect, cold, and the cramped position in which he had been sitting in the boat.

"What is the matter with this man?" he inquired of the corporal. "What makes him walk so stiffly?"

"Nothing much the matter, captain," was the indifferent reply. "It's only a ball he got in his leg in the scrimmage last night."

"Ha! the first gun-shot wound that has come under my treatment during the three long years I have been stationed here. Quick, my fine fellow, take yourself to the hospital, and tell the orderly to prepare my instruments for probing."

"Scrimmage last night; what do you mean, Corporal Nixon--whom had you the scrimmage with?"

These remarks fell at the same moment from the lips of the commander and those of the surgeon, the latter rubbing his hands with delightful antic.i.p.ation of the treat in store for him.

"With the Indians, captain," replied Nixon; "the Indians that attacked Mr. Heywood's farm."

"Captain Headley," interrupted the lieutenant, with unusual deference of manner, for he was anxious that no further reference should be made to the subject in presence of the invalids and women, who, attracted by the news of the arrival of the boat, had gathered around, partly from curiosity, partly for the purpose of getting their expected supply of fish, "do you not think it better to examine Corporal Nixon first, and then the others in turn?"

"Very true, Mr. Elmsley, I will examine them separately in the orderly-room to see how far their statements agree; yet one question you can answer here, corporal. You say that it is the body of Le Noir, killed by the Indians. Where is Mr. Heywood, then?"

The generous Elmsley felt faint, absolutely sick at heart on hearing this question; the very object he had in view in proposing this private examination was thereby threatened with discomfiture.

"Mr. Heywood has been carried off by the Indians," calmly replied the corporal, yet perceptibly paling as he spoke.

"Indeed! this is unfortunate. Let the men go to their barracks, and there remain until I send for them," ordered the commandant. "You, corporal, will come to me at the orderly-room, in half an hour from this. That will be sufficient time for you to clean yourself, and take your breakfast. None of your party, I presume, have had their breakfast yet?"

"No, your honor," answered Green, who seemed to fancy that his wound gave him the privilege of a little license in the presence of his chief, "not unless an old turkey, the grandfather of fifty broods, and as tough as shoe-leather, can be called a breakfast."

Captain Headley looked at the speaker sternly, but took no other notice of what he, evidently, deemed a very great liberty, than to demand how he presumed to disobey the order of the surgeon. Then desiring him to proceed forthwith to the hospital and have his leg dressed, he himself withdrew after postponing the parade to one o'clock.

"And are you sure, Nixon, that Mr. Heywood has been carried off by the Indians," asked Lieutenant Elmsley, the revulsion of whose feelings on hearing the corporal's answer to the question put by Captain Headley had been in striking contrast with what he had experienced only a moment before; "are you quite sure of this?"