The Little Red Foot Part 45

"And they were Spatter-dash's, too," said I, almost stifled by my jealous rage. "Whose else they may have been I know not, and do not ask you. Good night."

She said nothing, and presently picked at her torn ap.r.o.n.

"Good night," I repeated.

"Good night, sir."

And so I left her, choked by I knew not what new and fierce emotions--for I desired to seek out Spatter-dash, Jack-boots, and the whole cursed crew of suitors, and presently break their a.s.sorted necks.

For now I was aware that I hated these popinjays who came philandering here, as deeply as I hated to hear of the red-coat gallants at Caughnawaga.

Still a-quiver with pa.s.sion, I managed, nevertheless, to make my compliments and adieux to Lady Johnson and to Claudia--felt their warm and generous clasp, answered gaily I know not what, saluted all, took a lantern that Flora fetched, and went away across the gra.s.s.

A shadow detached itself from darkness, and now my Saguenay was padding at my heels once more.

As we two came to the mainland, young Spatter-dash suddenly crossed the road in front of my lantern. Good G.o.d! Was I in my right mind! Was it Stephen Watts on whose white, boyish face my lantern glimmered for an instant? How could it be, when it meant death to catch him here?...

Besides, he was in Canada with Walter Butler. What possessed me, that in young Spatter-dash I saw resemblance to Stevie Watts, and in another respectable militia officer a countenance resembling Lieutenant Hare's?

Sure my mind was obsessed tonight by faces seen that last unhappy evening at the Hall; and so I seemed to see a likeness to those men in every face I met.... Something had sure upset me.... Something, too, had suddenly awakened in me new and deep emotions, unsuspected, unfamiliar, and unwelcome.

And for the first time in my life I knew that I hated men because a woman favoured them.

We had pa.s.sed through the Continental camp, my Indian and I, and were now going down among the bushes to the Vlaie Water, where lay our canoe, when, of a sudden, a man leaped from the reeds and started to run.

Instantly my Indian was on his shoulders like a tree-cat, and down went both on the soft mud, my Saguenay atop.

I c.o.c.ked my rifle and poked the muzzle into the prostrate stranger's ribs, resting it so with one hand while I s.h.i.+ned my lantern on his upturned face.

He wore a captain's uniform in the Canajoharie Regiment; and, as he stared up at me, his throat still clutched by the Saguenay, I found I was gazing upon the blotched features of Captain Moucher!

"Take your hands from his neck-cloth, cut your thrums, and make a cord to tie him," said I, in the Oneida dialect. "He will not move," I added.

It took the Indian a little while to accomplish this. I held my rifle muzzle to Moucher's ribs. Until his arms were tied fast behind him, he had not spoken to me nor I to him; but now, as he rose to his knees from the mud and then staggered upright, I said to him:

"This is like to be a tragic business for you, Captain Moucher."

He winced but made no reply.

"I am sorry to see you here," I added.

"Do you mean to murder me?" he asked hoa.r.s.ely.

"I mean to question you," said I. "Be good enough to step into that canoe."

The Indian and I held the frail craft. Moucher stepped into it, stumbling in the darkness and trembling all over.

"Sit down on the bottom, midway between bow and stern!"

He took the place as I directed.

"Take the bow paddle," said I to Yellow Leaf. "Also loosen your knife."

And when he was ready, I shoved off, straddled the stern, and, kneeling, took the broad paddle.

"Captain Moucher," said I, "if you think to overturn the canoe, in hope of escape, my Indian will kill you in the water."

The canoe slid out into darkness under the high stars.

CHAPTER XVIII

FIRELIGHT

Now, no sooner did I reach my camp with my prisoner than my people came crowding around us from their watch-fire, which burned dull because they had made a smudge of it, black flies being lively after dark.

I drew Nick aside and told him all.

"You shall take Johnny Silver," said I, "and set off instantly for Summer House and the Continental camp. You shall deliver a letter to Major Westfall, and then you shall search with your lanterns every face you encounter; for I am beginning to believe that I truly saw Stephen Watts and Lieutenant Hare in the orchard at Summer House Point this night. And if I did, then they are a pair o' d.a.m.ned spies, and should be taken; and suffer as such!"

"My G.o.d," says he, "Lady Johnson's brother!"

"And my one-time friend. Is it not horrible, Nick? But any hesitation makes me a traitor to my own people."

I sat down in the dull firelight, a block of wood for a seat, fished out my carnet, wrote a line to Major Westfall, and handed it to Nick.

Silver came with a lantern and both rifles.

"Use the canoe," said I, "and have a care that you reply clearly and promptly when challenged, for yonder Continentals are p.r.o.ne to shoot."

They went off with their rifles and the lantern, and I waited until I heard the dip of paddles in the dark.

"Throw a dry log on the fire, G.o.dfrey," said I. And to Joe de Golyer: "Bring that prisoner here."

Joe fetched him, and he stood before me, arms trussed up and head hanging. Tahioni approached.

"Untie him," said I.

Whilst they were fumbling with the knotted rope of thrums, I said to Tahioni:

"Luysnes is on guard, I take it?"

"My French brother watches."

"That is well. Now, tell my Oneida brothers that here we have taken a very dangerous man; and that if he makes any move to escape from where he stands beside that fire, they shall not attempt to take him _alive_!"

The young warrior turned calmly and translated. I saw my Oneidas loosen their knives and hatchets. The Saguenay quietly strung his short, heavy bow, and, laying an arrow across the string, notched it.