The Little Red Foot Part 72

He checked himself; behind him, through the door, entered a Continental Captain; and I sat up in bed to do him courtesy.

As I suspected, here proved to be our Commandant come to learn of me my news; and it presently appeared that Nick had run to the jail with an account of how I lay here crippled.

Well, the Commandant was a simple, kindly man, whose present anxiety made little of military custom. And so he had come instantly to learn my news of me; and we talked there alone for an hour.

At his summons a servant fetched paper, ink, pen and sand; and, whilst he looked on, I wrote out my report to him.

Also, I made for him a drawing of the Drowned Lands from Fish House to Mayfield, marking all roads and paths and trails, and all canoe water, carries, and cleared land. For, as Brent-Meester, no man had more accurate knowledge of Tryon than had I; and it was all clearly in my mind, so that to make a map of it proved no task at all.

I asked him if I was to remain detached and with authority to raise a company of rangers--as had once been given me--or whether, perhaps, the Line lacked commissioned officers, saying that it was all one to me and that I wished only to serve where most needed.

He replied that, unless I went to Morgan's corps of Virginia Riflemen, concerning which detail he had heard some talk, my full value lay in my woodcraft and in my wide, personal knowledge of the wilderness.

"Who better than you, Mr. Drogue, could take a scout to this same Buck Island, where Sir John's hordes are gathering? Who better than yourself could undertake a swift and secret mission to any point within the confines of this vast desolation of mountain, lake, and forest, which promises soon to be the theatre of a most b.l.o.o.d.y struggle?

"Champlain already spews red-coats upon us in the North. Sir John threatens in the West. A great army menaces the Highland Forts and Albany from the South. And only such officers as you, sir, are competent to discover and dog the march of enemy marauders, come to touch with their scouts, follow and ambush them, and lead others to vital points across an uncharted world of woods when there are raiders to check or communications to threaten and cut."

He rose, hooked up his sword, and shook hands with me.

"I have asked Colonel Willett," said he, "to use your talents in this manner, and he has very kindly consented. Johnstown will remain your base, therefore, and your employment is certain as soon as you are able to walk."

I thanked him and said very confidently that I should be rid of all lameness and pain within a day or so.

That night I had a fever; and for pearly four weeks my leg remained swollen and red, and the pain was such that I could not bear the weight of a linen sheet, and Nick made a frame for my bed-covers, like a tent, so that they should not touch me.

Dr. Younglove came from the Flatts,--who was surgeon in General Herkimer's brigade of militia--and he said it was a pernicious rheumatism consequent upon the cold wetting I got upon a wound still green.

Further, he concluded, there was naught to do save that I must lie on my back until my trouble departed of its own accord; but he could not say how soon that might me--whether within a day or two or as many months, or more.

He recommended hot blankets and some draughts which they sent me from the pharmacy at the Fort, but I think they did me neither good nor evil, but were pleasant and spicy and cooled my throat.

So that was now the dog's life I led during the early summer in Johnstown,--a most vexatious and inglorious career, laid by the heels at a time when, from three points o' the compa.s.s, three separate storms were brewing and darkening the heavens, and a tempest more frightful than man could conceive was threatening to shatter Tryon, sweep the whole Mohawk Valley, and leave Johnstown but a whirl of whitened ashes in the evening winds.

We were comfortably established at Burke's Inn, and, as always, baited well where food and bed were ever clean and good.

Penelope had the chamber next to mine; Nick slept in the little bedroom on my left; and the Saguenay haunted the kitchen, with a perpetual appet.i.te never damaged by gorging.

All the news of town and country was fetched me by word o' mouth, by penny broadsides, by journals, so that I never wanted for gossip to entertain or alarm me.

Town tattle, rumours from West and North, camp news conveyed by Coureurs-du-Bois, by runners, by expresses, all this came to my chamber where I lay impatient, brought sometimes by Burke, often by Nick, more often by Penelope.

She was very kind and patient with me. In the first feverish and agonizing days of my illness I had sent for her, and begged her to take the first convenient waggon and escort into Albany, where surely Douw Fonda would now care for her and the Patroon's household would welcome and shelter her until the oncoming storm had pa.s.sed and her aged charge should again return to Caughnawaga.

She would not go, but gave no reason. And, my sickness making me peevish, I was often fretful and short with her; and so badgered and bullied her that one night, in desperation, she wrote a letter to Douw Fonda at my request, offering to go to Albany and care for him if he desired it.

But presently there came a polite letter in reply, writ kindly to her by the young Patroon himself, who very delicately revealed how it was with Mr. Fonda. And it appeared that he had become childish from great age, and seemed now to retain no memory of her, and desired not to be cared for by anybody--as he said--who was a stranger to him.

Which was sad to know concerning so good and wise and gallant an old gentleman as had been Mr. Douw Fonda,--a fine, honourable, educated and cultivated man, whose chiefest pleasure was in his books and garden, and who never in all his life had uttered an unkind word.

This news, too, was disturbing in another manner; for Mr. Fonda had wished, as all knew, to adopt Penelope and make provision for her. And now, if his mind had begun to cloud and his memory betray him, no provision was likely to be made to support this young girl who was utterly alone in the world, and entirely without fortune.

On an afternoon late in May I was feeling less pain, and could permit the covers to rest on me, and was impatient for a dish o' porridge.

About five o'clock Penelope brought me a bowl of chocolate. When she had seated herself near me, she took her sewing from her ap.r.o.n pocket, and st.i.tched away busily whilst I drank my sweet, hot brew, and watched her over the blue bowl's edge.

"Are you better this afternoon, sir?" she inquired presently, not lifting her eyes.

I told her, fretfully, that I was but a lame dog and fit only to be knocked on the head by some obliging Tory. "I'm sick o' life," said I, "where no one heeds me, and I am left alone all day without food or companions.h.i.+p, to play at twiddle-thumb."

At that she looked at me in sweet concern, but, seeing me wear a wry grin, smiled too.

"Poor lad," said she, "it is nearly a month you lie there so patiently."

"Not patiently; no! And if I knew more oaths than I think up all day long it might ease me to endure more meekly this accursed sickness....

What is it you sew?"

"Wrist-bands."

"Whose?"

As she offered no reply I supposed that she was making a pair o' bands for Nick.

"Do you hear further from Albany?" I inquired.

"No, sir."

"Then it is sure that Mr. Fonda has become childish and his memory is gone," said I, "because if he comprehended your present situation and your necessity he would surely have sent for you long since."

"He always was kind," she said simply.

I lay on my pillows, sipping chocolate and watching her fingers so deft with thread and needle. After a long silence I asked her rather bluntly why she had not long ago consented to the necessary legal steps offered her by Mr. Fonda, which would have secured her always against want.

As she made me no answer, I looked hard at her over my bowl, and saw her eyes very faintly glimmering with tears.

"The news of Mr. Fonda's condition has greatly saddened you," said I.

"Yes. He was kind to me."

"Why, then, did you evade his expressed wishes?" I repeated. "He must surely have loved you like a father to offer you adoption."

"I could not accept," she said in a low voice, sewing rapidly the while.

"Why not?"

"I scarcely know. It was because of pride, perhaps.... I was his servant. He paid me well. I could not permit him to overpay my poor services.... And he has other children, and grandchildren, with whose proper claims I would not permit myself--or him--to interfere. No, it was unthinkable--however kindly meant----"