LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 CAUFCRNJA 
 
 
BEING 
 THE STORY OF ONE RAMSAY STANHOPE 
 
 Lieutenant to Pkm Radluon tn the Northern Far Trade 
 
 BY 
 
 A. C. LAUT 
 
 AUTHOR OF LORDS OF THE NORTH 
 
 TORONTO. CANADA 
 WILLIAM BRIGGS 
 1913 
 
Entered according to Act of the 
 Parliament of Canada in the year 1002 
 
 By A. 0. LAUT 
 at the Department of Af riculture 
 
 All righti reserved 
 
.2 
 
 DEDICATED 
 
 THE NEW WORLD NOBILITY 
 
 709 
 
Jfroto 31 fearneb boto tbe man muft batoe 
 
 felt toben be ?et about conquerin0 tbe element^, ?ub; 
 buing lanb and ?ea anb gata0erp. 3Cnb in tbat lie^ 
 tbe Homeric 0reatne$$ of tbi^ ta?t fre^b Jfteto ^orlb 
 of oucjEi. gouc <MD l^orlb tictor tahcs up tbe unfin- 
 i?beb tuorft left bp 0enerations of men. gout Jftetn 
 lyortt) beto bc0ins at tbe pristine ta?h. 31 prap pou, 
 tobo are born to tbe nobilitp of tbe l^eto ^orlb, for0et 
 not tbe 0lorp of pour berita0e ; for tbe place tobicb 
 <3ob batb 0iv>en pou in tbe bi^torp of tbe race is one 
 ttbicb men must bold in entop toben iloman patrician 
 anb Jftorman conqueror anb robber baron are ns for; 
 
 of 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHArnu 
 
 
 PAGB 
 
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 I 
 
 
 PART I 
 
 
 I. 
 
 WHAT ARE KING-KILLERS? 
 
 7 
 
 II. 
 
 I RESCUE AND AM RESCUED 
 
 20 
 
 III. 
 
 TOUCHING WITCHCRAFT .... 
 
 SI 
 
 IV. 
 
 REBECCA AND JACK BATTLE CONSPIRE 
 
 . 4 8 
 
 V. 
 
 M. RADISSON AGAIN 
 
 . 66 
 
 
 PART II 
 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE ROARING FORTIES .... 
 
 
 VII. 
 
 M. DE RADISSON ACTS .... 
 
 87 
 
 VIII. 
 
 M. DE RADISSON COMES TO HIS OWN 
 
 . 98 
 
 IX. 
 
 VISITORS 
 
 
 X. 
 
 THE CAUSE OF THE FIRING 
 
 . 124 
 
 XI. 
 
 MORE OF M. RADISSON S RIVALS 
 
 . 142 
 
 XII. 
 
 M. RADISSON BEGINS THE GAME 
 
 . 150 
 
 XIII. 
 
 THE WHITE DARKNESS .... 
 
 173 
 
 XIV. 
 
 A CHALLENGE 
 
 181 
 
 XV. 
 
 THE BATTLE NOT TO THE STRONG . 
 
 . 196 
 
 XVI. 
 
 WE SEEK THE INLANDERS .... 
 
 . 210 
 
 XVII. 
 
 A BOOTLESS SACRIFICE .... 
 
 . 22 3 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 FACING THE END 
 
 
 
 vii 
 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 XIX. 
 
 XX. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 AFTERWARD 
 
 WHO THE PIRATES WERE 
 
 How THE PIRATES CAME 
 
 WE LEAVE THE NORTH SEA 
 
 PACK 
 
 238 
 247 
 
 260 
 
 275 
 
 PART III 
 
 XXIII. A CHANGE OF PARTNERS 
 
 XXIV. UNDER THE MGIS OF THE COURT . 
 XXV. JACK BATTLE AGAIN 
 
 XXVI. AT OXFORD 
 
 . 287 
 
 . 296 
 
 . 318 
 
 . 33i 
 
 XXVII. HOME FROM THE BAY 338 
 
 XXVIII. REBECCA AND I FALL OUT . . . .348 
 
 XXIX. THE KING S PLEASURE 363 
 
 Vlll 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 I SEE him yet swarthy, straight as a lance, 
 keen as steel, in his eyes the restless fire that 
 leaps to red when sword cuts sword. I see him 
 yet beating about the high seas, a lone adven 
 turer, tracking forest wastes where no man else 
 dare go, pitting his wit against the intrigue of 
 king and court and empire. Prince of path 
 finders, prince of pioneers, prince of gamesters, 
 he played the game for love of the game, caring 
 never a rush for the gold which pawns other 
 men s souls. How much of good was in his ill, 
 how much of ill in his good, let his life de 
 clare! He played fast and loose with truth, 
 I know, till all the world played fast and loose 
 with him. He juggled with empires as with 
 puppets, but he died not a groat the richer, 
 
 I 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 which is better record than greater men can 
 boast. 
 
 Of enemies, Sieur Radisson had a-plenty, 
 for which, methinks, he had that lying tongue 
 of his to thank. Old France and New France, 
 Old England and New England, would have 
 paid a price for his head; but Pierre Radisson s 
 head held afar too much cunning for any hang 
 dog of an assassin to try " fall-back, fall-edge " 
 on him. In spite of all the malice with which 
 his enemies fouled him living and dead, Sieur 
 Radisson was never the common buccaneer 
 which your cheap pamphleteers have painted 
 him; though, i faith, buccaneers stood high 
 enough in my day, when Prince Rupert himself 
 turned robber and pirate of the high seas. Pierre 
 Radisson held his title of nobility from the king; 
 so did all those young noblemen who went with 
 him to the north, as may be seen from M. Col 
 bert s papers in the records de la marine. Nor 
 was the disembarking of furs at Isle Percee an 
 attempt to steal M. de la Chesnaye s cargo, as 
 slanderers would have us believe, but a way of 
 escape from those vampires sucking the life- 
 
 2 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 blood of New France the farmers of the rev 
 enue. Indeed, His Most Christian Majesty him 
 self commanded those robber rulers of Quebec 
 to desist from meddling with the northern ad 
 venturers. And if some gentleman who has never 
 been farther from city cobblestones than to ride 
 afield with the hounds or take waters at foreign 
 baths, should protest that no maid was ever in 
 so desolate a case as Mistress Hortense, I an 
 swer there are to-day many in the same region 
 keeping themselves pure as pond-lilies in a 
 brackish pool, at the forts of their fathers and 
 husbands in the fur-trading country.* 
 
 And as memory looks back to those far days, 
 there is another a poor, shambling, mean- 
 spoken, mean-clad fellow, with the scars of con 
 vict gyves on his wrists and the dumb love of a 
 faithful spaniel in his eyes. Compare these two 
 as I may Pierre Radisson, the explorer with 
 
 * In confirmation of which reference may be called to the 
 daughter of Governor Norton in Prince of Wales Fort, north 
 of Nelson. Hearne reports that the poor creature died from 
 exposure about the time of her father s death, which was 
 many years after Mr. Stanhope had written the last words of 
 this record. Author. 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 fame like a meteor that drops in the dark; Jack 
 Battle, the wharf-rat for the life of me I can 
 not tell which memory grips the more. 
 
 One played the game, the other paid the 
 pawn. Both were misunderstood. One took 
 no thought but of self; the other, no thought 
 of self at all. But where the great man won 
 glory that was a target for envy, the poor sailor 
 lad garnered quiet happiness. 
 
PART I 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 WHAT ARE KING-KILLERS? 
 
 MY father peace to his soul! had been of 
 those who thronged London streets with wine 
 tubs to drink the restored king s health on 
 bended knee; but he, poor gentleman, departed 
 this life before his monarch could restore a 
 wasted patrimony. For old Tibbie, the nurse, 
 there was nothing left but to pawn the family 
 plate and take me, a spoiled lad in his teens, 
 out to Puritan kin of Boston Town. 
 
 On the night my father died he had spoken 
 remorsefully of the past to the lord bishop at 
 his bedside. 
 
 " Tush, man, have a heart," cries his lord 
 ship. "Thou lt see pasch and yule yet forty 
 year, Stanhope. Tush, man, tis thy liver, or a 
 touch of the gout. Take here a smack of port. 
 Sleep sound, man, sleep sound." 
 
 And my father slept so sound he never 
 wakened more. 
 
 So I came to my Uncle Kirke, whose vii> 
 7 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 tues were of the acid sort that curdles the milk 
 of human kindness. 
 
 With him, goodness meant gloom. If the 
 sweet joy of living ever sang to him in his youth, 
 he shut his ears to the sound as to siren tempt- 
 ings, and sternly set himself to the fierce de 
 light of being miserable. 
 
 For misery he had reason enough. Having 
 writ a book in which he called King Charles 
 " a man of blood and everlasting abomination " 
 whatever that might mean Eli Kirke got 
 himself star-chambered. When, in the language 
 of those times, he was examined " before tor 
 ture, in torture, between torture, and after tor 
 ture " the torture of the rack and the thumb- 
 kins and the boot he added to his former testi 
 mony that the queen was a " Babylonish wom 
 an, a Potiphar, a Jezebel, a " 
 
 There his mouth was gagged, head and 
 heels roped to the rack, and a wrench given 
 the pulleys at each end that nigh dismembered 
 his poor, torn body. And what words, think 
 you, came quick on top of his first sharp out 
 cry? 
 
 "Wisdom is justified of her children! The 
 wicked shall he pull down and the humble shall 
 he exalt!" 
 
 And when you come to think of it, Charles 
 8 
 
WHAT ARE KING-KILLERS? 
 
 Stuart lost his head on the block five years from 
 that day. 
 
 When Eli Kirke left jail to take ship for 
 Boston Town both ears had been cropped. On 
 his forehead the letters S L seditious libeler 
 were branded deep, though not so deep as the 
 bitterness burned into his soul. 
 
 There comes before me a picture of my land 
 ing, showing as clearly as it were threescore 
 years ago that soft, summer night, the harbour 
 waters molten gold in a harvest moon, a waiting 
 group of figures grim above the quay. No firing 
 of muskets and drinking of flagons and ringing 
 of bells to welcome us, for each ship brought 
 out court minions to whip Boston into line with 
 the Restoration as hungry a lot of rascals as 
 ever gathered to pick fresh bones. 
 
 Old Tibbie had pranked me out in brave 
 finery: the close-cut, black-velvet waistcoat that 
 young royalists then wore; a scarlet doublet, 
 flaming enough to set the turkey yard afire; the 
 silken hose and big shoe-buckles late introduced 
 from France by the king; and a beaver hat with 
 plumes a-nodding like my lady s fan. My curls, 
 I mind, tumbled forward thicker than those fop 
 pish French perukes. 
 
 " There is thy Uncle Kirke," whispers Nurse 
 9 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 Tibbie. " Pay thy best devoirs, Master Ram 
 say," and she pushes me to the fore of those 
 crowding up the docks. 
 
 A thin, pale man with a scarred face silently 
 permitted me to salute four limp fingers. His 
 eyes swept me with chill disapproval. My hat 
 clapped on a deal faster than it had come off, 
 for you must know we unhatted in those days 
 with a grand, slow bow. 
 
 "Thy Aunt Ruth," says Tibbie, nudging 
 me; for had I stood from that day to this, 
 I was bound that cold man should speak 
 first. 
 
 To my aunt the beaver came off in its grand 
 est flourish. The pressure of a dutiful kiss 
 touched my forehead, and I minded the passion 
 kisses of a dead mother. 
 
 Those errant curls blew out in the wind. 
 
 " Ramsay Stanhope," begins my uncle sour 
 ly, " what do you with uncropped hair and the 
 foolish trappings of vanity? " 
 
 As I live, those were the first words he ut 
 tered to me. 
 
 " I perceive silken garters," says he, clearing 
 his throat and lowering his glance down my per 
 son. " Many a good man hath exchanged silk 
 for hemp, my fine gentleman! " 
 
 " An the hemp hold like silk, twere a fair 
 JO 
 
WHAT ARE KING-KILLERS? 
 
 exchange, sir," I returned; though I knew very 
 well he referred to those men who had died for 
 the cause. 
 
 " Ramsay," says he, pointing one lank fore 
 finger at me, " Ramsay, draw your neck out of 
 that collar; for the vanities of the wicked are a 
 yoke leading captive the foolish! " 
 
 Now, my collar was point-de-vice of prime 
 quality over black velvet. My uncle s welcome 
 was more than a vain lad could stomach; and 
 what youth of his first teens hath not a vanity 
 hidden about him somewhere? 
 
 " Thou shalt not put the horse and the ass 
 under the same yoke, sir," said I, drawing myself 
 up far as ever high heels would lift. 
 
 He looked dazed for a minute. Then he told 
 me that he spake concerning my spiritual blind 
 ness, his compassions being moved to show me 
 the error of my way. 
 
 At that, old nurse must needs take fire. 
 
 " Lord save a lad from the likes o sich com 
 passions! Sure, sir, an the good Lord makes 
 pretty hair grow, twere casting pearls before 
 swine to shave his head like a cannon-ball " 
 this with a look at my uncle s crown " or to 
 dress a proper little gentleman like a ragged 
 flibbergibbet." 
 
 "Tibbie, hold your tongue!" I order. 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " Silence were fitter for fools and children," 
 says Eli Kirke loftily. 
 
 There comes a time when every life must 
 choose whether to laugh or weep over trivial 
 pains, and when a cut may be broken on the 
 foil of that glancing mirth which the good Crea 
 tor gave mankind to keep our race from going 
 mad. It came to me on the night of my arrival 
 on the wharves of Boston Town. 
 
 We lumbered up through the straggling vil 
 lage in one of those clumsy coaches that had late 
 become the terror of foot-passengers in Lon 
 don crowds. My aunt pointed with a pride that 
 was colonial to the fine light which the towns 
 people had erected on Beacon Hill; and told 
 me pretty legends of Rattlesnake Hill that fired 
 the desire to explore those inland dangers. I 
 noticed that the rubble-faced houses showed 
 lanterns in iron clamps above most of the door 
 ways. My kinsman s house stood on the verge 
 of the wilds rough stone below, timbered plas 
 ter above, with a circle of bay windows mid 
 way, like an umbrella. High windows were 
 safer in case of attack from savages, Aunt Ruth 
 explained; and I mentally set to scaling rope 
 ladders in and out of those windows. 
 
 We drew up before the front garden and 
 entered by a turnstile with flying arms. Many 
 
 12 
 
WHAT ARE KING-KILLERS? 
 
 a ride have little Rebecca Stocking, of the 
 court-house, and Ben Gillam, the captain s son, 
 and Jack Battle, the sailor lad, had, perched on 
 that turnstile, while I ran pushing and jumping 
 on, as the arms flew creaking round. 
 
 The home-coming was not auspicious. Yet 
 I thought no resentment against Yny uncle. I 
 realized too well how the bloody revenge of the 
 royalists was turning the hearts of England to 
 stone. One morning I recall, when my poor 
 father lay a-bed of the gout and there came a 
 roar through London streets as of a burst ocean 
 dike. Before Tibbie could say no, I had 
 snatched up a cap and was off. 
 
 God spare me another such sight! In all 
 my wild wanderings have I never seen savages 
 do worse. 
 
 Through the streets of London before the 
 shoutings of a rabble rout was whipped an old, 
 white-haired man. In front of him rumbled a 
 cart; in the cart, the axeman, laving wet hands; 
 at the axeman s feet, the head of a regicide 
 all to intimidate that old, white-haired man, 
 fearlessly erect, singing a psalm. When they 
 reached the shambles, know you what they did? 
 Go read the old court records and learn what 
 that sentence meant when a man s body was 
 cast into fire before his living eyes! All the 
 
 13 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 while, watching from a window were the princes 
 and their shameless ones. 
 
 Ah, yes! God wot, I understood Eli Kirke s 
 bitterness! 
 
 But the beginning was not auspicious, and 
 my best intentions presaged worse. For in 
 stance, one morning my uncle was sounding my 
 convictions he was ever sounding other peo 
 ple s convictions "touching the divine right 
 of kings." Thinking to give strength to con 
 tempt for that doctrine, I applied to it one for 
 cible word I had oft heard used by gentlemen 
 of the cloth. Had I shot a gun across the table, 
 the effect could not have been worse. The serv 
 ing maid fell all of a heap against the pantry 
 door. Old Tibbie yelped out with laughter, and 
 then nigh choked. Aunt Ruth glanced from me 
 to Eli Kirke with a timid look in her eye; but 
 Eli Kirke gazed stolidly into my soul as he 
 would read whether I scoffed or no. 
 
 Thereafter he nailed up a little box to re 
 ceive fines for blasphemy. 
 
 " To be plucked as a brand from the burn 
 ing," I hear him say, fetching a mighty sigh. 
 
 But sweet, calm Aunt Ruth, stitching at 
 some spotless kerchief, intercedes. 
 
 " Let us be thankful the lad hath come 
 to us." 
 
 14 
 
WHAT ARE KING-KILLERS? 
 
 " Bound fast in cords of vanity," deplores 
 Uncle Kirke. 
 
 " But all things are possible," Aunt Ruth 
 softly interposes. 
 
 " All things are possible," concedes Eli Kirke 
 grudgingly, " but thou knowest, Ruth, all things 
 are not probable! " 
 
 And I, knowing my uncle loved an argument 
 as dearly as merry gentlemen love a glass, slip 
 away leg-bail for the docks, where sits Ben Gil- 
 lam among the spars spinning sailor yarns to 
 Jack Battle, of the great north sea, whither his 
 father goes for the fur trade; or of M. Radisson, 
 the half-wild Frenchman, who married an Eng 
 lish kinswoman of Eli Kirke s and went where 
 never man went and came back with so many 
 pelts that the Quebec governor wanted to build 
 a fortress of beaver fur; * or of the English 
 squadron, rocking to the harbour tide, fresh 
 from winning the Dutch of Manhattan, and 
 ready to subdue malcontents of Boston Town. 
 
 Then Jack Battle, the sailor lad from no one 
 knows where, living no one knows how, digs 
 
 * Young Stanhope s informant had evidently mixed tradi 
 tion with fact. Radisson was fined for going overland to 
 Hudson Bay without the governor s permission, the fine to 
 build a fort at Three Rivers. Eli Kirke s kinswoman was a 
 daughter of Sir John Kirke, of the Hudson s Bay Fur Com 
 pany. Author. 
 
 15 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 his bare toes into the sand and asks under his 
 breath if we have heard about king-killers. 
 
 " What are king-killers? " demands young 
 Gillam. 
 
 I discreetly hold my tongue; for a gentleman 
 who supped late with my uncle one night has 
 strangely disappeared, and the rats in the attic 
 have grown boldly loud. 
 
 " What are king-killers? " asks Gillam. 
 
 "Them as sent Charles I to his death," 
 explains Jack. " They do say," he whispers 
 fearfully, "one o them is hid hereabouts now! 
 The king s commission hath ordered to have 
 hounds and Indians run him down." 
 
 "Pah!" says Gillam, making little of what 
 he had not known, " hounds are only for run 
 aways," this with a sneering look at odd marks 
 round Jack s wrists. 
 
 "I am no slave!" vows Jack in crestfallen 
 tones. 
 
 " Who said slave ? " laughs Gillam trium 
 phantly. " My father saith he is a runaway rat 
 from the Barbadoes," adds Ben to me. 
 
 With the fear of a hunted animal under his 
 shaggy brows, little Jack tries to read how much 
 is guess. 
 
 " I am no slave, Ben Gillam," he flings back 
 at hazard; but his voice is thin from fright. 
 
 16 
 
WHAT ARE KING-KILLERS? 
 
 " My father saith some planter hath lost ten 
 pound on thee, little slavie," continues Ben. 
 " Pah! Ten pound for such a scrub! He s not 
 worth six! Look at the marks on his arms, Ram 
 say " catching the sailor roughly by the wrist. 
 " He can say what he likes. He knows chains." 
 
 Little Jack jerked free and ran along the 
 sands as hard as his bare feet could carry him. 
 Then I turned to Ben, who had always bullied 
 us both. Dropping the solemn " thou s " which 
 our elders still used, I let him have plain 
 " you s." 
 
 "You you mean coward! I ve a mind 
 to knock you into the sea! " 
 
 " Grow bigger first, little billycock," taunts 
 Ben. 
 
 By the next day I was big enough. 
 
 Mistress Hortense Hillary was down on the 
 beach with M. Picot s blackamoor, who dogged 
 her heels wherever she went; and presently 
 comes Rebecca Stocking to shovel sand too. 
 Then Ben must show what a big fellow he is 
 by kicking over the little maid s cart-load. 
 
 " Stop that! " commands Jack Battle, spring 
 ing of a sudden from the beach. 
 
 For an instant, Ben was taken aback. 
 
 Then the insolence that provokes its own 
 punishment broke forth. 
 
 17 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 "Go play with your equals, jack-pudding! 
 Jailbirds who ape their betters are strangled 
 up in Quebec," and he kicked down Rebecca s 
 pile too. 
 
 Rebecca s doll-blue eyes spilled over with 
 tears, but Mistress Hortense was the high- 
 mettled, high-stepping little dame. She fairly 
 stamped her wrath, and to Jack s amaze took 
 him by the hand and marched off with the hau 
 teur of an empress. 
 
 Then Ben must call out something about M. 
 Picot, the French doctor, not being what he 
 ought, and little Hortense having no mother. 
 
 " Ben/ said I quietly, " come out on the 
 pier." The pier ran to deep water. At the far 
 end I spoke. 
 
 " Not another word against Hortense and 
 Jack! Promise me! " 
 
 His back was to the water, mine to the shore. 
 He would have promised readily enough, I think, 
 if the other monkeys had not followed Re 
 becca with big tear-drops on both cheeks, Hor 
 tense quivering with wrath, Jack flushed, half 
 shy and half shamed to be championed by a 
 girl. 
 
 "Come, Ben; fore I count three, prom- 
 
 
 But he lugged at me. I dodged. With a 
 18 
 
WHAT ARE KING-KILLERS? 
 
 splash that doused us four, Ben went headlong 
 into the sea. The uplift of the waves caught 
 him. He threw back his arms with a cry. Then 
 he sank like lead. 
 
 The sailor son of the famous captain could 
 not swim. Rebecca s eyes nigh jumped from 
 her head with fright. Hortense grew white to 
 the lips and shouted for that lout of a blacka 
 moor sound asleep on the sand. 
 
 Before I could get my doublet off to dive, 
 Jack Battle was cleaving air like a leaping fish, 
 and the waters closed over his heels. 
 
 Bethink you, who are not withered into for- 
 getfulness of your own merry youth, whether 
 our hearts stopped beating then! 
 
 But up comes that water-dog of a Jack grip 
 ping Ben by the scruff of the neck; and when 
 by our united strength we had hauled them both 
 on the pier, little Mistress Hortense was the 
 one to roll Gillam on his stomach and bid us 
 " Quick! Stand him on his head and pour the 
 water out! " 
 
 From that day Hortense was Jack s slave, 
 Jack was mine, and Ben was a pampered hero 
 because he never told and took the punishment 
 like a man. But there was never a word more 
 slurring Hortense s unknown origin and Jack s 
 strange wrist marks. 
 
 19 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 I RESCUE AND AM RESCUED 
 
 So the happy childhood days sped on, a 
 swift stream past flowered banks. Ben went 
 off to sail the north sea in Captain Gillam s 
 ship. M. Picot, the French doctor, brought a 
 governess from Paris for Hortense, so that we 
 saw little of our playmate, and Jack Battle con 
 tinued to live like a hunted rat at the docks. 
 
 My uncle and Rebecca s father, who were 
 beginning to dabble in the fur trade, had joint 
 ly hired a peripatetic dominie to give us young 
 sters lessons in Bible history and the three R s. 
 At noon hour I initiated Rebecca into all the 
 thrilling dangers of Indian warfare, and many 
 a time have we had wild escapes from imaginary 
 savages by scaling a rope ladder of my own mak 
 ing up to the high nursery window. By-and- 
 bye, when school was in and the dominie dozed, 
 I would lower that timid little whiffet of a Puri 
 tan maid out through the window to the turn 
 stile. Then I would ride her round till our heads 
 whirled. If Jack Battle came along, Rebecca 
 
 20 
 
I RESCUE AND AM RESCUED 
 
 would jump down primly and run in, for Jack 
 was unknown in the meeting-house, and the 
 meeting-house was Rebecca s measure of the 
 whole world. 
 
 One day Jack lingered. He was carrying 
 something tenderly in a red cambric handker 
 chief. 
 
 "Where is Mistress Hortense? " he asked 
 
 sheepishly. 
 
 " That silly French woman keeps her caged 
 
 like a squirrel." 
 
 Little Jack began tittering and giggling. 
 
 \Vhy- that s what I have here," he ex 
 plained, slipping a bundle of soft fur in my hand. 
 " It s tame! It s for Hortense," said he. 
 
 " Why don t you take it to her, Jack? " 
 
 " Take it to her? " reiterated he in a daze. 
 " As long as she gets it, what does it matter 
 who takes it?" 
 
 With that, he was off across the marshy com 
 mons, leaving the squirrel in my hand. 
 
 Forgetting lessons, I ran to M. Picot s house. 
 That governess answered the knocker. 
 
 " From Jack Battle to Mistress Hortense! 
 And I proffered the squirrel. 
 
 Though she smirked a world of thanks, she 
 would not take it. Then Hortense came dan 
 cing down the hall. 
 
 21 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 "Am I not grown tall?" she asked, mis 
 chievously shaking her curls. 
 
 " No," said I, looking down to her feet cased 
 in those high slippers French ladies then wore, 
 " tis your heels!" 
 
 And we all laughed. Catching sight of the 
 squirrel, Hortense snatched it up with caresses 
 against her neck, and the French governess 
 sputtered out something of which I knew only 
 the word " beau." 
 
 " Jack is no beau, mademoiselle," said I loft 
 ily. "Pah! He s a wharf lad." 
 
 I had thought Hortense would die in fits. 
 
 " Mademoiselle means the squirrel, Ram 
 say," she said, choking, her handkerchief to her 
 lips. " Tell Jack thanks, with my love," she 
 called, floating back up the stairs. 
 
 And the governess set to laughing in the 
 pleasant French way that shakes all over and 
 has no spite. Emboldened, I asked why Hor 
 tense could not play with us any more. Hor 
 tense, she explained, was become too big to 
 prank on the commons. 
 
 " Faith, mademoiselle," said I ruefully, " an 
 she mayn t play war on the commons, what may 
 she play?" 
 
 "Beau!" teases mademoiselle, perking her 
 lips saucily; and she shut the door in my face. 
 
 22 
 
I RESCUE AND AM RESCUED 
 
 It seemed a silly answer enough, but it put 
 a notion in a lad s head. I would try it on 
 Rebecca. 
 
 When I re-entered the window, the dominie 
 still slept. Rebecca, the demure monkey, bent 
 over her lesson book as innocently as though 
 there were no turnstiles. 
 
 " Rebecca," I whispered, leaning across the 
 bench, " you are big enough to have a what? 
 Guess." 
 
 " Go away, Ramsay Stanhope! " snapped 
 Rebecca, grown mighty good of a sudden, with 
 glance fast on her white stomacher. 
 
 "O-ho! Crosspatch," thought I; and from 
 no other motive than transgressing the forbid 
 den, I reached across to distract the attentive 
 goodness of the prim little baggage; but an 
 iron grip lifted me bodily from the bench. 
 
 It was Eli Kirke, wry-faced, tight-lipped. 
 He had seen all! This was the secret of Mis 
 tress Rebecca s new-found diligence. No sylla 
 ble was uttered, but it was the awfullest silence 
 that ever a lad heard. I was lifted rather than 
 led upstairs and left a prisoner in locked room 
 with naught to do but gnaw my conscience and 
 gaze at the woods skirting the crests of the in 
 land hills. 
 
 Those rats in the attic grew noisier, and pres- 
 23 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 ently sounds a mighty hallooing outside, with 
 a blowing of hunting-horns and baying of 
 hounds. What ado was this in Boston, where 
 men were only hunters of souls and chasers of 
 devils? The rats fell to sudden quiet, and from 
 the yells of the rabble crowd I could make out 
 only "King-killers! King-killers!" These 
 were no Puritans shouting, but the blackguard 
 sailors and hirelings of the English squadron set 
 loose to hunt down the refugees. The shouting 
 became a roar. Then in burst Eli Kirke s front 
 door. The house was suddenly filled with 
 swearings enough to cram his blasphemy box 
 to the brim. There was a trampling of feet on 
 the stairs, followed by the crashing of over 
 turned furniture, and the rabble had rushed up 
 with neither let nor hindrance and were search 
 ing every room. 
 
 Who had turned informer on my uncle? 
 Was I not the only royalist in the house? 
 Would suspicion fall on me? But questions 
 were put to flight by a thunderous rapping on 
 the door. It gave as it had been cardboard, 
 and in tumbled a dozen ruffians with gold-lace 
 doublets, cockades and clanking swords. 
 
 Behind peered Eli Kirke, pale with fear, his 
 eyes asking mine if I knew. True as eyes can 
 speak, mine told him that I knew as well as he. 
 
 24 
 
I RESCUE AND AM RESCUED 
 
 " Body o me! What-a-deuce? Only a lit 
 tle fighting sparrow of a royalist! " cried a swag 
 gering colt of a fellow in officer s uniform. 
 
 " No one here, lad? " demanded a second. 
 
 And I saw Eli Kirke close his eyes as in 
 prayer. 
 
 " Sir," said I, drawing myself up on my heels, 
 " I don t understand you. I am here." 
 
 They bellowed a laugh and were tumbling 
 over one another in their haste up the attic 
 stairs. Then my blood went cold with fear, for 
 the memory of that poor old man going to the 
 shambles of London flashed back. 
 
 A window lifted and fell in the attic gable. 
 With a rush I had slammed the door and was 
 craning out full length from the window-sill. 
 Against the lattice timber-work of the plastered 
 wall below the attic window clung a figure in 
 Geneva cloak, with portmanteau under arm. It 
 was the man who had supped so late with Eli 
 Kirke. 
 
 " Sir," I whispered, fearing to startle him 
 from perilous footing, " let me hold your port 
 manteau. Jump to the slant roof below." 
 
 For a second his face went ashy, but he 
 tossed me the bag, gained the shed roof at a 
 leap, snatched back the case, and with a " Lord 
 bless thee, child! " was down and away. 
 
 25 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 The spurred boots of the searchers clanked 
 on the stairs. A blowing of horns! They were 
 all to horse and off as fast as the hounds coursed 
 away. The deep, far baying of the dogs, now 
 loud, now low, as the trail ran away or the wind 
 blew clear, told where the chase led inland. If 
 the fugitive but hid till the dogs passed he was 
 safe enough; but of a sudden came the hoarse, 
 furious barkings that signal hot scent. 
 
 What had happened was plain. 
 
 The poor wretch had crossed the road and 
 given the hounds clew. The baying came nearer. 
 He had discovered his mistake and was trying 
 to regain the house. 
 
 Balaam stood saddled to carry Eli Kirke to 
 the docks. Twas a wan hope, but in a twinkling 
 I was riding like wind for the barking behind 
 the hill. A white-faced man broke from the 
 brush at crazy pace. 
 
 " God ha mercy, sir," I cried, leaping off; 
 " to horse and away! Ride up the brook bed 
 to throw the hounds off." 
 
 I saw him in saddle, struck Balaam s flank 
 a blow that set pace for a gallop, turned, and 
 for a second time that day was lifted from the 
 ground. 
 
 " Pardieu! Clean done! " says a low voice. 
 " Tis a pretty trick! " 
 
 26 
 
I RESCUE AND AM RESCUED 
 
 And I felt myself set up before a rider. 
 
 " To save thee from the hounds," says the 
 voice. 
 
 Scarce knowing whether I dreamed, I looked 
 over my shoulder to see one who was neither 
 royalist nor Puritan a thin, swarth man, tall 
 and straight as an Indian, bare-shaven and 
 scarred from war, with long, wiry hair and black 
 eyes full of sparks. 
 
 The pack came on in a whirl to lose scent 
 at the stream, and my rescuer headed our horse 
 away from the rabble, doffing his beaver famil 
 iarly to the officers galloping past. 
 
 "Ha!" called one, reining his horse to its 
 haunches, " did that snivelling knave pass this 
 way? " 
 
 " Do you mean this little gentleman? " 
 
 The officer galloped off. " Keep an eye 
 open, Radisson," he shouted over his shoulder. 
 
 " Twere better shut," says M. Radisson 
 softly; and at his name my blood pricked to 
 a jump. 
 
 Here was he of whom Ben Gillam told, the 
 half-wild Frenchman, who had married the roy 
 alist kinswoman of Eli Kirke; the hero of Span 
 ish rights and Turkish wars; the bold explorer 
 of the north sea, who brought back such wealth 
 from an unknown land, governors and merchant 
 3 27 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 princes were spying his heels like pirates a treas 
 ure ship. 
 
 " Tis more sport hunting than being hunt 
 ed," he remarked, with an air of quiet reminis 
 cence. 
 
 His suit was fine-tanned, cream buckskin, 
 garnished with gold braid like any courtier s, 
 with a deep collar of otter. Unmindful of man 
 ners, I would have turned again to stare, but 
 he bade me guide the horse back to my home. 
 
 " Lest the hunters ask questions," he ex 
 plained. " And what," he demanded, " what 
 doth a little cavalier in a Puritan hotbed? " 
 
 " I am even where God hath been pleased to 
 set me, sir." 
 
 " Twas a ticklish place he set thee when 
 I came up." 
 
 " By your leave, sir, tis a higher place than 
 I ever thought to know." 
 
 M. Radisson laughed a low, mellow laugh, 
 and, vowing I should be a court gallant, put 
 me down before Eli Kirke s turnstile. 
 
 My uncle came stalking forth, his lips pale 
 with rage. He had blazed out ere I could ex 
 plain one word. 
 
 " Have I put bread in thy mouth, Ramsay 
 Stanhope, that thou shouldst turn traitor? Vi 
 per and imp of Satan! " he shouted, shaking his 
 
 28 
 
I RESCUE AND AM RESCUED 
 
 clinched fist in my face. " Was it not enough 
 that thou wert utterly bound in iniquity with 
 out persecuting the Lord s anointed? " 
 
 I took a breath. 
 
 " Where is Balaam? " he demanded, seizing 
 me roughly. 
 
 " Sir," said I, " for leaving the room with 
 out leave, I pray you to flog me as I deserve. 
 As for the horse, he is safe and I hope far 
 away under the gentleman I helped down from 
 the attic." 
 
 His face fell a-blank. M. Radisson dis 
 mounted laughing. 
 
 " Nay, nay, Eli Kirke, I protest twas to 
 the lad s credit. Twas this way, kinsman," and 
 he told all, with many a strange-sounding, for 
 eign expression that must have put the Puri 
 tan s nose out of joint, for Eli Kirke began blow 
 ing like a trumpet. 
 
 Then out comes Aunt Ruth to insist that 
 M. Radisson share a haunch of venison at our 
 noonday meal. 
 
 And how I wish I could tell you of that 
 dinner, and of all that M. Radisson talked; of 
 captivity among Iroquois and imprisonment in 
 Spain and wars in Turkey; of his voyage over 
 land and lake to a far north sea, and of the 
 conspiracy among merchant princes of Quebec 
 29 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 to ruin him. By-and-bye Rebecca Stocking s 
 father came in, and the three sat talking plans 
 for the northern trade till M. Radisson let drop 
 that the English commissioners were keen to 
 join the enterprise. Then the two Puritans 
 would have naught to do with it. 
 
 Long ago, as you know, we dined at mid 
 day; but so swiftly had the hour flown with M. 
 Radisson s tales of daring that Tibbie was al 
 ready lighting candles when we rose from the 
 dinner table. 
 
 " And now/ cried M. Radisson, lifting a 
 stirrup-cup of home-brewed October, " health 
 to the little gentleman who saved a life to-day! 
 Health to mine host! And a cup fathoms deep 
 to his luck when Ramsay sails yon sea! " 
 
 " He might do worse," said Eli Kirke grimly. 
 
 And the words come back like the echo of 
 a prophecy. 
 
 I would have escaped my uncle, but he way 
 laid me in the dark at the foot of the stairs. 
 
 " Ramsay," said he gently. 
 
 " Sir? " said I, wondering if flint could melt. 
 
 " The Lord bless thee, and keep thee: the 
 Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be 
 gracious unto thee: the Lord lift up his counte 
 nance upon thee, and give thee peace! 
 30 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 TOUCHING WITCHCRAFT 
 
 THAT interrupted lesson with Rebecca fin 
 ished my schooling. I was set to learning the 
 mysteries of accounts in Eli Kirke s warehouse. 
 
 " How goes the keeping of accounts, Ram 
 say? " he questioned soon after I had been in 
 tutelage. 
 
 I had always intended to try my fortune in 
 the English court when I came of age, and the 
 air of the counting-house ill suited a royalist s 
 health. 
 
 " Why, sir," I made answer, picking my 
 words not to trip his displeasure, " I get as much 
 as I can and I give as little as I can; and those 
 be all the accounts that ever I intend to keep." 
 
 Aunt Ruth looked up from her spinning- 
 wheel in a way that had become an alarm sig 
 nal. Eli Kirke glanced dubiously to the blas 
 phemy box, as though my words were action 
 able. There was no sound but the drone of the 
 loom till I slipped from the room. Then they 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 both began to talk. Soon after came transfer 
 from the counting-house to the fur trade. That 
 took me through the shadowy forests from town 
 to town, and when I returned my old comrades 
 seemed shot of a sudden from youth to man 
 hood. 
 
 There was Ben Gillam, a giff-gaffing blade 
 home from the north sea, so topful of spray 
 that salt water spilled over at every word. 
 
 " Split me fore and aft," exclaims Ben, " if 
 I sail not a ship of my own next year! I ll take 
 the boat without commission. Stocking and my 
 father have made an offer," he hinted darkly. 
 " I ll go without commission! " 
 
 " And risk being strangled for t, if the 
 French governor catch you." 
 
 "Body o me!" flouts Ben, ripping out a 
 peck of oaths that had cost dear and meant a 
 day in the stocks if the elders heard, " who s 
 going to inform when my father sails the only 
 other ship in the bay? Devil sink my soul to 
 the bottom of the sea if I don t take a boat to 
 Hudson Bay under the French governor s 
 nose!" 
 
 " A boat of your own," I laughed. " What 
 for, Ben? " 
 
 " For the same as your Prince Rupert, 
 Prince Robber, took his. Go out light as a 
 
 32 
 
TOUCHING WITCHCRAFT 
 
 cork, come back loaded with Spanish gold to 
 the water-line." Ben paused to take a pinch of 
 snuff and display his new embroidered waist 
 coat. 
 
 " Look you at the wealth in the beaver 
 trade," he added. " M. Radisson went home 
 with George Carteret not worth a curse, formed 
 the Fur Company, and came back from Hud 
 son Bay with pelts packed to the quarter-deck. 
 Devil sink me! but they say, after the fur sale, 
 the gentlemen adventurers had to haul the gold 
 through London streets with carts! Bread o 
 grace, Ramsay, have half an eye for your own 
 purse! " he urged. " There is a life for a man 
 o spirit! Why don t you join the beaver trade, 
 Ramsay? " 
 
 Why not, indeed? Twas that or turn cut- 
 purse and road-lifter for a youth of birth with 
 out means in those days. 
 
 Of Jack Battle I saw less. He shipped with 
 the fishing boats in the summer and cruised with 
 any vagrant craft for the winter. When he came 
 ashore he was as small and eel-like and shy and 
 awkward as ever, with the same dumb fidelity 
 in his eyes. 
 
 And what a snowy maid had Rebecca be 
 come! Sitting behind her spinning-wheel, with 
 her dainty fingers darting in the sunlight, she 
 
 33 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 seemed the pink and whitest thing that ever 
 grew, with a look on her face of apple-blossoms 
 in June; but the sly wench had grown mighty 
 demure with me. When I laughed over that 
 ending to our last lesson, she must affect an 
 air of injury. Twas neither her fault nor mine, 
 I declare, coaxing back her good-humour; twas 
 the fault of the face. I wanted to see where the 
 white began and the pink ended. Then Re 
 becca, with cheeks a-bloom under the hiding of 
 her bonnet, quickens steps to the meeting-house; 
 but as a matter of course we walk home to 
 gether, for behind march the older folk, staidly 
 discoursing of doctrine. 
 
 " Rebecca," I say, " you did not take your 
 eyes off the preacher for one minute." 
 
 " How do you know, Ramsay? " retorts Re 
 becca, turning her face away with a dimple trem 
 bling in her chin, albeit it was the Sabbath. 
 
 " That preacher is too handsome to be sound 
 in his doctrine, Rebecca." 
 
 Then she grows so mighty prim she must 
 ask which heading of the sermon pleases me 
 best. 
 
 " I liked the last," I declare; and with that, 
 we are at the turnstile. 
 
 Hortense became a vision of something lost, 
 a type of what I had known when great ladies 
 
 34 
 
TOUCHING WITCHCRAFT 
 
 came to our country hall. M. Picot himself 
 took her on the grand tour of the Continent. 
 How much we had been hoping to see more of 
 her I did not realize till she came back and we 
 saw less. 
 
 Once I encountered M. Picot and his ward 
 on the wharf. Her curls were more wayward 
 than of old and her large eyes more lustrous, 
 full of deep, new lights, dark like the flash of a 
 black diamond. Her form appeared slender 
 against the long, flowing mantilla shot with gold 
 like any grand dame s. She wore a white beaver 
 with plumes sweeping down on her curls. In 
 deed, little Hortense seemed altogether such a 
 great lady that I held back, though she was 
 looking straight towards me. 
 
 " Give you good-e en, Ramsay," salutes M. 
 Picot, a small, thin man with pointed beard, eye 
 brows of a fierce curlicue, and an expression 
 under half-shut lids like cat s eyes in the dark. 
 "Give you good-e en! Can you guess who 
 this is? " 
 
 As if any one could forget Hortense! But 
 I did not say so. Instead, I begged leave to 
 welcome her back by saluting the tips of her 
 gloved fingers. She asked me if I minded that 
 drowning of Ben long ago. Then she wanted 
 to know of Jack. 
 
 2$ 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " I hear you are fur trading, Ramsay? " re 
 marks M. Picot with the inflection of a ques 
 tion. 
 
 I told him somewhat of the trade, and he 
 broke out in almost the same words as Ben Gil- 
 lam. Twas the life for a gentleman of spirit. 
 Why didn t I join the beaver trade of Hudson 
 Bay? And did I know of any secret league be 
 tween Captain Zachariah Gillam and Mr. Stock 
 ing to trade without commission? 
 
 "Ah, Hillary," he sighed, "had we been 
 beaver trading like Radisson instead of pound 
 ing pestles, we might have had little Hortense 
 restored." 
 
 "Restored!" thought I. And M, Picot 
 must have seen my surprise, for he drew back 
 to his shell lilce a pricked snail. Observing that 
 the wind was chill, he bade me an icy good 
 night. 
 
 I had no desire to pry into M. Picot s secrets, 
 but I could not help knowing that he had un 
 bended to me because he was interested in the 
 fur trade. From that twas but a step to the 
 guess that he had come to New England to 
 amass wealth to restore Mistress Hortense. 
 
 Restore her to what? There I pulled up 
 sharp. Twas none of my affair; and yet, in spite 
 of resolves, it daily became more of my affair. 
 
 36 
 
TOUCHING WITCHCRAFT 
 
 Do what I would, spending part of every day 
 with Rebecca, that image of lustrous eyes un 
 der the white beaver, the plume nodding above 
 the curls, the slender figure outlined against the 
 gold-shot mantilla, became a haunting memory. 
 Countless times I blotted out that mental pic 
 ture with a sweep of common sense. She was 
 a pert miss, with her head full of French non 
 sense and a nose held too high in air." Then 
 a memory of the eyes under the beaver, and fancy 
 was at it again spinning cobwebs in moonshine. 
 
 M. Picot kept more aloof than formerly, and 
 was as heartily hated for it as the little minds 
 of a little place ever hate those apart. 
 
 Occasionally, in the forest far back from the 
 settlement, I caught a flying glimpse of Lincoln 
 green; and Hortense went through the woods, 
 hard as her Irish hunter could gallop, followed 
 by the blackamoor, churning up and down on 
 a blowing nag. Once I had the good luck to 
 restore a dropped gauntlet before the blacka 
 moor could come. With eyes alight she threw 
 me a flashing thanks and was off, a sunbeam 
 through the forest shades; and something was 
 thumping under a velvet waistcoat faster than 
 the greyhound s pace. A moment later, back 
 came the hound in springy stretches, with the 
 riders at full gallop. 
 
 37 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 Her whip fell, but this time she did not 
 turn. 
 
 But when I carried the whip to the doctor s 
 house that night, M. Picot received it with scant 
 grace! 
 
 Whispers gall-midges among evil tongues 
 were raising a buzz that boded ill for the doc 
 tor. France had paid spies among the English, 
 some said. Deliverance Dobbins, a frumpish, 
 fizgig of a maid, ever complaining of bodily ills 
 though her chuffy cheeks were red as pippins, 
 reported that one day when she had gone for 
 simples she had seen strange, dead things in the 
 jars of M. Picot s dispensary. At this I laughed 
 as Rebecca told it me, and old Tibbie winked 
 behind the little Puritan maid s head; for my 
 father, like the princes, had known that love of 
 the new sciences which became a passion among 
 gentlemen. Had I not noticed the mole on the 
 French doctor s cheek? Rebecca asked. I had: 
 what of it? 
 
 " The crops have been blighted," says Re 
 becca; though what connection that had with 
 M. Picot s mole, I could not see. 
 
 " Deliverance Dobbins oft hath racking 
 pains," says Rebecca, with that air of injury 
 which became her demure dimples so well. 
 
 " Drat that Deliverance Dobbins for a low- 
 38 
 
TOUCHING WITCHCRAFT 
 
 bred mongrel mischief-maker! " cries old Tibbie 
 from the pantry door. 
 
 " Tibbie," I order, " hold your tongue and 
 drop an angel in the blasphemy box." 
 
 " Twas good coin wasted," the old nurse 
 vowed; but I must needs put some curb on her 
 royalist tongue, which was ever running a-riot 
 in that Puritan household. 
 
 It was an accident, in the end, that threw 
 me across M. Picot s path. I had gone to have 
 him bind up a splintered wrist, and he invited 
 me to stay for a round of piquet. I, having 
 only one hand, must beg Mistress Hortense to 
 sort the cards for me. 
 
 She sat so near that I could not see her. 
 You may guess I lost every game. 
 
 "Tut! tut! Hillary dear, tis a poor helper 
 Ramsay gained when he asked your hand. Pish! 
 pish!" he added, seeing our faces crimson; 
 " come away," and he carried me off to the dis 
 pensary, as though his preserved reptiles would 
 be more interesting than Hortense. 
 
 With an indifference a trifle too marked, he 
 brought me round to the fur trade and wanted 
 to know whether I would be willing to risk trad 
 ing without a license, on shares with a partner. 
 
 " Quick wealth that way, Ramsay, an you 
 have courage to go to the north. An it were 
 
 39 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 not for Hortense, I d hire that young rapscal 
 lion of a Gillam to take me north." 
 
 I caught his drift, and had to tell him 
 that I meant to try my fortune in the English 
 court. 
 
 But he paid small heed to what I said, gaz 
 ing absently at the creatures in the jars. 
 
 " Twould be devilish dangerous for a girl," 
 he muttered, pulling fiercely at his mustache. 
 
 " Do you mean the court, sir? " I asked. 
 
 " Aye," returned the doctor with a dry laugh 
 that meant the opposite of his words. " An you 
 incline to the court, learn the tricks o the foils, 
 or rogues will slit both purse and throat." 
 
 And all the while he was smiling as though 
 my going to the court were an odd notion. 
 
 " If I could but find a master," I lamented. 
 
 " Come to me of an evening," says M. Picot. 
 " I ll teach you, and you can tell me of the fur 
 trade." 
 
 You may be sure I went as often as ever I 
 could. M. Picot took me upstairs to a sort of 
 hunting room. It had a great many ponderous 
 oak pieces carved after the Flemish pattern and 
 a few little bandy-legged chairs and gilded tables 
 with courtly scenes painted on top, which he 
 said Mistress Hortense had brought back as of 
 the latest French fashion. The blackamoor 
 40 
 
TOUCHING WITCHCRAFT 
 
 drew close the iron shutters; for, though those 
 in the world must know the ways of the world, 
 worldling practices were a sad offence to New 
 England. Shoving the furnishings aside, M. 
 Picot picked from the armory rack two slim 
 foils resembling Spanish rapiers and prepared to 
 give me my lesson. Carte and tierce, low carte 
 and flanconnade, he taught me with many a 
 ringing clash of steel till beads were dripping 
 from our brows like rain-drops. 
 
 "Bravo!" shouted M. Picot in a pause. 
 " Are you son o the Stanhope that fought on 
 the king s side?" 
 
 I said that I was. 
 
 " I knew the rascal that got the estate from 
 the king," says M. Picot, with a curious look 
 from Hortense to me; and he told me of Blood, 
 the freebooter, who stole the king s crown but 
 won royal favour by his bravado and entered 
 court service for the doing of deeds that bore 
 not the light of day. 
 
 Nightly I went to the French doctor s house, 
 and I learned every wicked trick of thrust and 
 parry that M. Picot knew. Once when I bun 
 gled a foul lunge, which M. Picot said was a 
 habit of the infamous Blood, his weapon touched 
 my chest, and Mistress Hortense uttered a sharp 
 cry. 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 "What what what!" exclaims M. Picot, 
 whirling on her. 
 
 " Twas so real," murmurs Hortense, biting 
 her lip. 
 
 After that she sat still enough. Then the 
 steel was exchanged for cards; and when I lost 
 too steadily M. Picot broke out: "Pish, boy, 
 your luck fails here! Hillary, child, go practise 
 thy songs on the spinet." 
 
 Or: " Hortense, go mull us a smack o 
 wine!" 
 
 Or: "Ha, ha, little witch! Up yet? Late 
 hours make old ladies." 
 
 And Hortense must go off, so that I never 
 saw her alone but once. Twas the night before 
 I was to leave for the trade. 
 
 The blackamoor appeared to say that De 
 liverance Dobbins was " a-goin in fits " on the 
 dispensary floor. 
 
 " Faith, doctor," said I, " she used to have 
 dumps on our turnstile." 
 
 " Yes," laughed Hortense, " small wonder 
 she had dumps on that turnstile! Ramsay used 
 to tilt her backward." 
 
 M. Picot hastened away, laughing. Hor 
 tense was in a great carved high-back chair with 
 clumsy, wooden cupids floundering all about the 
 tall head-rest. Her face was alight in soft-hued 
 42 
 
TOUCHING WITCHCRAFT 
 
 crimson flaming from an Arabian cresset stuck 
 in sockets against the Flemish cabinet. 
 
 " A child s trick," began Hortense, catching 
 at the shafts of light. 
 
 " I often think of those old days on the 
 beach." 
 
 " So do I," said Hortense. 
 
 " I wish they could come back." 
 
 " So do I," smiled Hortense. Then, as if to 
 check more: " I suppose, Ramsay, you would 
 want to drown us all Ben and Jack and Re 
 becca and me." 
 
 " And I suppose you would want to stand 
 us all on our heads," I retorted. 
 
 Then we both laughed, and Hortense de 
 manded if I had as much skill with the lyre as 
 with the sword. She had heard that I was much 
 given to chanting vain airs and wanton songs, 
 she said. 
 
 And this is what I sang, with a heart that 
 knocked to the notes of the old madrigal like 
 the precentor s tuning-fork to a meeting-house 
 psalm: 
 
 " Lady, when I behold the roses sprouting, 
 
 Which, clad in damask mantles, deck the arbours, 
 And then behold your lips where sweet love harbours, 
 My eyes perplex me with a double doubting, 
 Whether the roses be your lips, or your lips the roses." 
 
 4 43 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 Barely had I finished when Mistress Hor- 
 tense seats herself at the spinet, and, changing 
 the words to suit her saucy fancy, trills off that 
 ballad but newly writ by one of our English 
 courtiers: 
 
 " Shall I, wasting in despair, 
 Die because Rebeccas fair ? 
 Or make pale my cheeks with care 
 Cause Rebeccas rosier are ? " 
 
 "Hortense!" I protested. 
 
 " Be he fairer than the day 
 Or the June-field coils of hay; 
 If he be not so to me. 
 What care I how/<? he be? " 
 
 There was such merriment in the dark- 
 lashed eyes, I defy Eli Kirke himself to have 
 taken offence; and so, like many another youth, 
 I was all too ready to be the pipe on which 
 a dainty lady played her stops. As the song 
 faded to the last tinkling notes of the spinet 
 her fingers took to touching low, tuneless melo 
 dies like thoughts creeping into thoughts, or 
 perfume of flowers in the dark. The melting 
 airs slipped into silence, and Hortense shut her 
 eyes, " to get the memory of it," she said. I 
 thought she meant some new-fangled tune. 
 
 " This is memory enough for me," said I. 
 
 " Oh? " asked Hortense, and she uncovered 
 44 
 
TOUCHING WITCHCRAFT 
 
 all the blaze of the dark lights hid in those 
 eyes. 
 
 " Faith, Hortense," I answered, like a 
 moth gone giddy in flame, " your naughty mu 
 sic wakes echoes of what souls must hear in 
 paradise." 
 
 " Then it isn t naughty," said Hortense, be 
 ginning to play fiercely, striking false notes and 
 discords and things. 
 
 " Hortense," said I. 
 
 "No Ramsay!" cried Hortense, jangling 
 harder than ever. 
 
 " But yes! Hortense 
 
 And in bustled M. Picot, hastier than need, 
 methought. 
 
 "What, Hillary? Not a-bed yet, child? 
 Ha! crow s-feet under eyes to-morrow! Bed, 
 little baggage! Forget not thy prayers! Pish! 
 Pish! Good-night! Good-night!" 
 
 That is the way an older man takes it. 
 
 " Now, devil fly away with that prying 
 wench of a Deliverance Dobbins!" ejaculated 
 M. Picot, stamping about. " Oh, I ll cure her 
 fanciful fits! Pish! Pish! That frump and her 
 fits! Bad blood, Ramsay; low-bred, low-bred! 
 Tis ever the way of her kind to blab of aches 
 and stuffed stomachs that were well if left empty. 
 An she come prying into my chemicals, taking 
 
 45 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 fits when she s caught, I ll mix her a pill o De 
 liverance! * And M. Picot laughed heartily at 
 his own joke. 
 
 The next morning I was off to the trade. 
 Though I hardly acknowledged the reason to 
 myself, any youth can guess why I made excuse 
 to come back soon. As I rode up, Rebecca 
 stood at our gate. She had no smile. Had I 
 not been thinking of another, I had noticed the 
 sadness of her face; but when she moved back 
 a pace, I flung out some foolishness about a 
 gate being no bar if one had a mind to jump. 
 Then she brought me sharp to my senses as I 
 sprang to the ground. 
 
 " Ramsay," she exclaimed, " M. Picot and 
 Mistress Hortense are in jail charged with sor 
 cery! M. Picot is like to be hanged! An they 
 do not confess, they may be set in the bilboes 
 and whipped. There is talk of putting Mistress 
 Hortense to the test." 
 
 "The test!" 
 
 Twas as if a great weight struck away power 
 to think, for the test meant neither more nor 
 less than torture till confession were wrung from 
 agony. The night went black and Rebecca s 
 voice came as from some far place. 
 
 " Ramsay, you are hurting you are crush 
 ing my hands! " 
 
TOUCHING WITCHCRAFT 
 
 Poor child, she was crying; and the words I 
 would have said stuck fast behind sealed lips. 
 She seemed to understand, for she went on: 
 
 " Deliverance Dobbins saw strange things 
 in his house. She went to spy. He hath crazed 
 her intellectuals. She hath dumb fits/* 
 
 Now I understood. This trouble was the 
 result of M. Picot s threat; but little Rebecca s 
 voice was tinkling on like a bell in a dome. 
 
 " My father hath the key to their ward. My 
 father saith there is like to be trouble if they 
 do not confess 
 
 " Confess! " I broke out. "Confess what? 
 If they confess the lie they will be burned for 
 witchcraft. And if they refuse to confess, they 
 will be hanged for not telling the lie. Pretty 
 justice! And your holy men fined one fellow a 
 hundred pounds for calling their justices a pack 
 of jackasses " 
 
 " Sentence is to be pronounced to-morrow 
 after communion/ said Rebecca. 
 
 " After communion? " I could say no more. 
 On that of all days for tyranny s crime! 
 
 God forgive me for despairing of mankind 
 that night. I thought freedom had been won 
 in the Commonwealth war, but that was only 
 freedom of body. A greater strife was to wage 
 for freedom of soul. 
 
 47 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 REBECCA AND JACK BATTLE CONSPIRE 
 
 TWAS cockcrow when I left pacing the 
 shore where we had so often played in child 
 hood; and through the darkness came the howl 
 of M. Picot s hound, scratching outside the 
 prison gate. 
 
 As well reason with maniacs as fanatics, say 
 I, for they hide as much folly under the mask 
 of conscience as ever court fool wore neath 
 painted face. There was Mr. Stocking, as well- 
 meaning a man as trod earth, obdurate beyond 
 persuasion against poor M. Picot under his 
 charge. Might I not speak to the French doc 
 tor through the bars of his window? By no 
 means, Mr. Stocking assured. If once the great 
 door were unlocked, who could tell what black 
 arts a sorcerer might use? 
 
 " Look you, Ramsay lad," says he, " I ve 
 had this brass key made against his witchcraft, 
 and I do not trust it to the hands of the jailer." 
 
 Then, I fear, I pleaded too keenly; for, sus- 
 48 
 
REBECCA AND JACK CONSPIRE 
 
 pecting collusion with M. Picot, the warden of 
 the court-house grew frigid and bade me ask 
 Eli Kirke s opinion on witchcraft. 
 
 " Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live/ " 
 rasped Eli Kirke, his stern eyes ablaze from an 
 inner fire. " A man also, or woman, that hath 
 a familiar spirit, or that is a wizard, shall surely 
 be put to death/ Think you M. Picot burns 
 incense to the serpent in his jars for the healing 
 of mankind? " he demanded fiercely. 
 
 "Yes," said I, " tis for the healing of 
 mankind by experimentation with chemicals. 
 Knowledge of God nor chemicals springs full 
 grown from man s head, Uncle Eli. Both must 
 be learned. That is all the meaning of his jars 
 and crucibles. He is only trying to learn what 
 laws God ordained among materials. And when 
 M. Picot makes mistakes, it is the same as when 
 the Church makes mistakes and learns wisdom 
 by blunders." 
 
 Eli Kirke blinked his eyes as though my 
 monstrous pleadings dazed him. 
 
 " Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live/ " he 
 cried doggedly. " Do the Scriptures lie, Ram 
 say Stanhope? Tell me that?" 
 
 " No," said I. " The Scriptures condemn 
 liars, and the man who pretends witchcraft is a 
 liar. There s no such thing. That is why the 
 
 49 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 Scriptures command burning." I paused. He 
 made no answer, and I pleaded on. 
 
 " But M. Picot denies witchcraft, and you 
 would burn him for not lying." 
 
 Never think to gain a stubborn antagonist 
 by partial concession. M. Radisson used to say 
 if you give an enemy an inch he will claim an ell. 
 
 Twas so with Eli Kirke, for he leaped to his 
 feet in a fine frenzy and bade me cease juggling 
 Holy Writ. 
 
 " * Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live/ " he 
 shouted. "Tis abomination! It shall utterly 
 be put away from you! Because of this hidden 
 iniquity the colony hath fallen on evil days. Let 
 it perish root and branch! " 
 
 But Tibbie breaks in upon his declamation by 
 throwing wide the library door, and in marches a 
 line of pale-faced ascetics, rigid of jaw, cold of 
 eye, and exalted with that gloomy fervour which 
 counts burning life s highest joy. Among them 
 was the famous witch-hanger of after years, a 
 mere youth then, but about his lips the hard 
 lines of a spiritual zeal scarce differing from 
 pride. 
 
 " God was awakening the churches by mar 
 vellous signs," said one, extending a lank, cold 
 hand to salute Eli Kirke. 
 
 " Have we not wrestled mightily for signs 
 50 
 
REBECCA AND JACK CONSPIRE 
 
 and wonders? " demanded another with jaw of 
 steel. And one description of the generation 
 seeking signs was all but off the tip of my 
 tongue. 
 
 " Some aver there be no witches so fear 
 fully hath error gone abroad," lamented young 
 Mather, keen to be heard then, as he always 
 was. " Brethren, toleration would make a king 
 dom of chaos, a Sodom, a Gomorrah, a Baby 
 lon!" 
 
 Faith, it needed no horoscope to forecast 
 that young divine s dark future! 
 
 I stood it as long as I could, with palms 
 itching to knock their solemn heads together 
 like so many bowling balls; but when one cadav 
 erous-faced fellow, whose sanctity had gone bil 
 ious from lack of sunshine, whined out against 
 " the saucy miss," meaning thereby Mistress 
 Hortense, and another prayed Heaven through 
 his nose that his daughter might " lie in her 
 grave ere she minced her steps with such dis 
 soluteness of hair and unseemly broideries and 
 bright colours, showing the lightness of her 
 mind," and a third averred that " a cucking-stool 
 would teach a maid to walk more shamefaced 
 ly," I whirled upon them in a fury that had 
 disinherited me from Eli Kirke s graces ere I 
 spake ten words. 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " Sirs," said I, " your slatternly wenches 
 may be dead ere they match Mistress Hortense! 
 As for wearing light colours, the devil himself 
 is painted black. Let them who are doing 
 shameful acts to the innocent walk shamefaced 
 ly! For shame, sirs, to cloak malice and jeal 
 ousy of M. Picot under religion! New England 
 will remember this blot against you and curse 
 you for it! An you listen to Deliverance Dob- 
 bins s lies, what hinders any lying wench sending 
 good men to the scaffold? " 
 
 At first they listened agape, but now the hot 
 blood rushed to their faces. 
 
 " Hold thy tongue, lad! " roared Eli Kirke. 
 Then, as if to atone for that violence: "The 
 Lord rebuke thee," he added solemly. 
 
 And I flung from the house dumb with im 
 potent rage. 
 
 My thoughts were as the snatched sleep of 
 a sick man s dreams. Again the hideous night 
 mare of the old martyr at the shambles; but 
 now the shambles were in the New World and 
 the martyr was M. Picot. Something cold 
 touched my hand through the dark, and there 
 crouched M. Picot s hound, whining for its mas 
 ter. Automatically I followed across the com 
 mons to the court-house square. It stopped at 
 the prison gate, sniffing and whining and beg- 
 
 52 
 
REBECCA AND JACK CONSPIRE 
 
 gingin. Poor dog! What could I do? I tried 
 to coax it away, but it lay at the wall like a 
 stone. 
 
 Of the long service in the new-built meet 
 ing-house I remember very little. Beat of 
 drums, not bells, called to church in those days, 
 and the beat was to me as a funeral march. 
 The pale face of the preacher in the high pul 
 pit overtowering us all was alight with stern 
 zeal. The elders, sitting in a row below the pul 
 pit facing us, listened to the fierce diatribe 
 against the dark arts with looks of approbation 
 that boded ill for M. Picot; and at every fresh 
 fusillade of texts to bolster his argument, the 
 line of deacons below the elders glanced back at 
 the preacher approvingly. Rebecca sat on that 
 side of the congregation assigned to the women 
 with a dumb look of sympathy on the sweet 
 hooded face. The prisoners were not present. At 
 the end of the service the preacher paused; and 
 there fell a great hush in which men scarce 
 breathed, for sentence was to be pronounced. 
 But the preacher only announced that before 
 handing the case to the civil court of oyer and 
 terminer for judgment, the elders wished to hold 
 it in meditation for another day. 
 
 The singing of the dismissal psalm began 
 and a smothered cry seemed to break from Re- 
 
 53 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 becca s pew. Then the preacher had raised his 
 hands above bowed heads. The service was 
 over. The people crowded solemnly out, and 
 I was left alone in the gathering darkness alone 
 with the ghosts of youth s illusions mocking 
 from the gloom. Religion, then, did not always 
 mean right ! There were tyrants of souls as well 
 as tyrants of sword. Prayers were uttered that 
 were fitter for hearing in hell than in Heaven. 
 Good men could deceive themselves into crime 
 cloaking spiritual malice, sect jealousy, race ha 
 tred with an unctuous text. Here, in New Eng 
 land, where men had come for freedom, was tyr 
 anny masking in the guise of religion. Preach 
 ers as jealous of the power slipping from their 
 hands as ever was primate of England! A poor 
 gentleman hounded to his death because he 
 practised the sciences! Millions of victims all 
 the world over burned for witchcraft, sacrificed 
 to a Moloch of superstition in the name of a 
 Christ who came to let in the light of knowl 
 edge on all superstition! 
 
 Could I have found a wilderness where was 
 no human face, I think I had fled to it that 
 night. And, indeed, when you come to think 
 of my breaking with Eli Kirke, twas the witch 
 trial that drove me to the wilderness. 
 
 There was yet a respite. But the Church 
 54 
 
REBECCA AND JACK CONSPIRE 
 
 still dominated the civil courts, and a transfer 
 of the case meant that the Church would throw 
 the onus of executing sentence on those lay 
 figures who were the puppets of a Pharisaical 
 oligarchy. 
 
 There was no time to appeal to England. 
 There was no chance of sudden rescue. New 
 England had not the stuff of which mobs are 
 made. 
 
 I thought of appealing to the mercy of the 
 judges; but what mercy had Eli Kirke received 
 at the hands of royalists that he should be mer 
 ciful to them? 
 
 I thought of firing the prison; but the walls 
 were stone, and the night wet, and the outcome 
 doubtful. 
 
 I thought of the cell window; but if there 
 had been any hope that way, M. Picot had 
 worked an escape. 
 
 Bowing my head to think to pray to im 
 precate, I lost all sense of time and place. 
 
 Some one had slipped quietly into the dark 
 of the church. I felt rather than saw a nearing 
 presence. But I paid no heed, for despair blot 
 ted out all thought. Whoever it was came feel 
 ing a way down the dark aisle. 
 
 Then hot tears fell upon my hands. In the 
 gloom there paused a childlike figure. 
 
 55 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 "Rebecca!" 
 
 She panted out a wordless cry. Then she 
 came closer and laid a hand on my arm. She 
 was struggling to subdue sobs. The question 
 came in a shivering breath. 
 
 " Is Hortense so dear? " 
 
 " So dear, Rebecca." 
 
 " She must be wondrous happy, Ramsay." 
 A tumult of effort. " If I could only take her 
 place " 
 
 " Take her place, Rebecca? " 
 
 " My father hath the key if ifif I took 
 her place, she might go free." 
 
 " Take her place, child! What folly is this 
 dear, kind Rebecca? Would t be any better to 
 send you to the rope than Hortense? No no 
 dear child!" 
 
 At that her agitation abated, and she puz 
 zled as if to say more. 
 
 " Dear Rebecca," said I, comforting her as 
 I would a sister, " dear child, run home. For 
 get not little Hortense in thy prayers." 
 
 May the angel of forgiveness spread a broad 
 er mantle across our blunders than our sins, but 
 could I have said worse? 
 
 " I have cooked dainties with my own hands. 
 I have sent her cakes every day," sobbed Re 
 becca. 
 
 56 
 
REBECCA AND JACK CONSPIRE 
 
 " Go home now, Rebecca," I begged. 
 
 But she stood silent. 
 
 " Rebecca what is it?" 
 
 " You have not been to see me for a year, 
 Ramsay." 
 
 I could scarce believe my ears. 
 
 " My father is away to-night. Will you not 
 come? " 
 
 " But, Rebecca- 
 
 " I have never asked a thing of you before." 
 
 " But, Rebecca 
 
 " Will you come for Hortense s sake? " she 
 interrupted, with a little sharp, hard, falsetto 
 note in her baby voice. 
 
 " Rebecca," I demanded, " what do you 
 mean? " 
 
 But she snapped back like the peevish child 
 that she was: "An you come not when I ask 
 you, you may stay! " And she had gone. 
 
 What was she trying to say with her dark 
 hints and overnice scruples of a Puritan con 
 science? And was not that Jack Battle greeting 
 her outside in the dark? 
 
 I tore after Rebecca at such speed that I had 
 cannoned into open arms before I saw a hulking 
 form across the way. 
 
 "Fall-back fall-edge!" roared Jack, clos 
 ing his arms about me. " Tis Ramsay himself, 
 
 57 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 with a sword like a butcher s cleaver and a wit 
 likeabroadaxe! " 
 
 " Have you not heard, Jack? " 
 
 " Heard! Ship ahoy! " cried Jack. " Split 
 me to the chin like a cod! Stood I not abaft 
 of you all day long, packed like a herring in a 
 pickle! Twas a pretty kettle of fish in your 
 Noah s ark to-day! Tis all along o goodness 
 gone stale from too much salt," says Jack. 
 
 I told him of little Rebecca, and asked what 
 he made of it. He said he made of it that fools 
 didn t love in the right place which was not to 
 the point, whatever Jack thought of Rebecca. 
 Linking his arm through mine, he headed me 
 about. 
 
 " Captain Gillam, Ben s father, sails for Eng 
 land at sunrise," vouched Jack. 
 
 " What has that to do with Mistress Hor- 
 tense? " I returned testily. 
 
 " Tis a swift ship to sail in." 
 
 " To sail in, Jack Battle? "I caught at the 
 hope. " Out with your plan, man! " 
 
 " And be hanged for it," snaps Jack, falling 
 silent. 
 
 We were opposite the prison. He pointed 
 to a light behind the bars. 
 
 " They are the only prisoners," he said. 
 " They must be in there." 
 
 58 
 
REBECCA AND JACK CONSPIRE 
 
 " One could pass a note through those bars 
 with a long pole," I observed, gazing over the 
 yard wall. 
 
 " Or a key," answered Jack. 
 
 He paused before Rebecca s house to the left 
 of the prison. 
 
 " Ramsay," inquired Jack quizzically, " do 
 you happen to have heard who has the keys? " 
 
 " Rebecca s father is warden." 
 
 " And Rebecca s father is from home to 
 night," says he, facing me squarely to the lan 
 tern above the door. 
 
 How did he know that? Then I remem 
 bered the voices outside the church. 
 
 " Jack what did Rebecca mean 
 
 " Not to be hanged," interrupts Jack. " Tis 
 all along o having too much conscience, Ram 
 say. They must either lie like a Dutchman and 
 be damned, or tell the truth and be hanged. 
 Now, ship ahoy," says he, " to the quarter 
 deck! " and he flung me forcibly up the steps. 
 
 Rebecca, herself, red-eyed and reserved, 
 threw wide the door. She motioned me to a 
 bench seat opposite the fireplace and fastened 
 her gaze above the mantel till mine followed 
 there too. A bunch of keys hung from an iron 
 rack. 
 
 " What are those, Rebecca? " 
 5 59 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " The largest is for the gate," says she with 
 the panic of conscience running from fire. " The 
 brass one unlocks the great door, and and 
 the M. Picot s cell unbolts/ she stammered. 
 
 " May I examine them, Rebecca? " 
 
 " I will even draw you a pint of cider," says 
 Rebecca evasively, with great trepidation, " but 
 come back soon," she called, tripping off to the 
 wine-cellar door. 
 
 Snatching the keys, I was down the steps 
 at a leap. 
 
 "The large one for the gate, Jack! The 
 brass one for the big door, and the cell un 
 bolts!" 
 
 " Ease your helm, sonny! " says Jack, catch 
 ing the bunch from my clasp. " Fall-back fall- 
 edge!" he laughed in that awful mockery of 
 the axeman s block. " Fall-back fall-edge ! If 
 there s any hacking of necks, mine is thicker 
 than yours! I ll run the risks. Do you wait 
 here in shadow." 
 
 And he darted away. The gate creaked as 
 it gave. 
 
 Then I waited for what seemed eternity. 
 
 A night-watchman shufHed along with swing 
 ing lantern, calling out: "What ho? What 
 ho? " Townsfolks rode through the streets with 
 a clatter of the chairmen s feet; but no words 
 60 
 
REBECCA AND JACK CONSPIRE 
 
 were bandied by the fellows, for a Sabbath hush 
 lay over the night. A great hackney-coach nigh 
 mired in mud as it lumbered through mid-road. 
 And M. Picot s hound came sniffing hungrily 
 to me. 
 
 A glare of light shot aslant the dark. Softly 
 the door of Rebecca s house opened. A frail 
 figure was silhouetted against the light. The 
 wick above snuffed out. The figure drew in 
 without a single look, leaving the door ajar. But 
 an hour ago, the iron righteousness of bigots 
 had filled my soul with revolt. Now the sight 
 of that little Puritan maid brought prayers to 
 my lips and a Te Deum to my soul. 
 
 The prison gate swung open again with rusty 
 protest. Two hooded figures slipped through 
 the dark. Jack Battle had locked the gate and 
 the keys were in my hand. 
 
 Take them back," he gurgled out with 
 school-lad glee. " Twill be a pretty to-do of 
 witchcraft to-morrow when they find a cell emp 
 ty. Go hire passage to England in Captain Gil- 
 lam s boat!" 
 
 "Captain Gillam s boat? " 
 Yes, or Master Ben s pirate-ship of the 
 north, if she s there," and he had dashed off in 
 the dark. 
 
 When Rebecca appeared above the cellar- 
 61 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 way with a flagon that reamed to a beaded top, 
 the keys were back on the wall. 
 
 " I was overlong," panted Rebecca, with 
 eyes averted as of old to the folds of her white 
 stomacher. " Twas a stubborn bung and hard 
 to draw." 
 
 "Dear little cheat! God bless you! and 
 bless you! and bless you, Rebecca!" I cried. 
 At which the poor child took fright. 
 
 " It it it was not all a lie, Ramsay," she 
 stammered. " The bung was hard and and 
 and I didn t hasten " 
 
 "Dear comrade good-bye, forever!" I 
 called from the dark of the step. 
 
 " Forever? " asked the faint voice of a for 
 lorn figure black in the doorway. 
 
 Dear, snowy, self-sacrificing spirit tis my 
 clearest memory of her with the thin, grieved 
 voice coming through the dark. 
 
 I ran to the wharf hard as ever heels nerved 
 by fear and joy and triumph and love could carry 
 me. The passage I easily engaged from the 
 ship s mate, who dinned into my unlistening 
 ears full account of the north sea, whither Cap 
 tain Gillam was to go for the Fur Company, and 
 whither, too, Master Ben was keen to sail, " a 
 pirateer, along o his own risk and gain/ ex 
 plained the mate with a wink, " pirateer or pri- 
 62 
 
REBECCA AND JACK CONSPIRE 
 
 vateer, call em what you will, Mister; the Susan 
 with white sails in Boston Town, and Le Bon 
 Gannon with sails black as the devil himself up 
 in Quebec, ha ha and I ll give ye odds on it, 
 Mister, the devil himself don t catch Master 
 Ben! Why, bless you, gentlemen, who s to jail 
 im here for droppin Spanish gold in his own 
 hold and poachin furs on the king s preserve 
 o the north sea, when Stocking, the warden, 
 imself owns alf the Susan and Cap en Gillam, 
 is father, is master o the king s ship? " 
 
 They do say," he babbled on, " now that 
 Radisson, the French jack-a-boots, hath given 
 the slip to the King s Company, he sails from 
 Quebec in ship o his own. If him and Ben and 
 the Capiten meet oh, there ll be times! 
 There ll be times!" 
 
 And " times " there were sure enough; but 
 of that I had then small care and shook the lo 
 quacious rascal off so that he left me in peace. 
 
 First came the servants, trundling cart-loads 
 of cases, which passed unnoticed; for the town 
 bell had tolled the close of Sabbath, and Mon 
 day shipping had begun. 
 
 The cusp of a watery moon faded in the gray 
 dawn streaks of a muffled sky, and at last came 
 the chairmen, with Jack running alert. 
 
 From the chairs stepped the blackamoor, 
 63 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 painted as white as paste. Then a New Amster 
 dam gentleman slipped out from the curtains, 
 followed by his page-boy and servants. 
 
 " Jack," I asked, " where is Hortense? " 
 
 The page glanced from under curls. 
 
 " Dear Jack," she whispered, standing high 
 on her heels nigh as tall as the sailor lad. And 
 poor Jack Battle, not knowing how to play 
 down, stood blushing, cap in hand, till she 
 laughed a queer little laugh and, bidding him 
 good-bye, told him to remember that she had 
 the squirrel stuffed. 
 
 To me she said no word. Her hand touched 
 mine quick farewell. The long lashes lifted. 
 
 There was a look on her face. 
 
 I ask no greater joy in Paradise than mem 
 ory of that look. 
 
 One lone, gray star hung over the masthead. 
 The ship careened across the billows till star and 
 mast-top met. 
 
 Jack fetched a deep sigh. 
 
 " There be work for sailors in England," he 
 said. 
 
 In a flash I thought that I knew what he 
 had meant by fools not loving in the right place. 
 
 "That were folly, Jack! She hath her sta 
 tion!" 
 
 64 
 
REBECCA AND JACK CONSPIRE 
 
 Jack Battle pointed to the fading steel point 
 above the vanishing masthead. 
 
 " Doth looking hurt yon star? " asks Jack. 
 
 " Nay; but looking may strain the eyes; and 
 the arrows of longing come back void." 
 
 He answered nothing, and we lingered 
 heavy hearted till the sun came up over the 
 pillowed waves turning the tumbling waters to 
 molten gold. 
 
 Between us and the fan-like rays behind the 
 glossy billows was no ship, 
 
 Hortense was safe! 
 
 There was an end-all to undared hopes. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 M. RADISSON AGAIN 
 
 " GOOD-BYE to you, Ramsay," said Jack ab 
 ruptly. 
 
 " Where to, Jack? " I asked, bestirring my 
 self. I could no more go back to Eli Kirke. 
 
 But little Jack Battle was squirming his 
 wooden clogs into the sand as he used to dig 
 his toes, and he answered not a word. 
 
 " Tis early yet for the Grand Banks, Jack. 
 Ben Gillam s ship keeled mast over hull from 
 being ice-logged last spring. The spars were 
 solid with frozen sleet from the crosstrees to the 
 crow s nest. Your dories would be ice-logged 
 for a month yet." 
 
 " It it it aren t the Grand Banks no 
 more," stammered Jack. 
 
 His manner arrested me. The honest blue 
 eyes were shifting and his toes at work in the 
 sand. 
 
 " There be gold on the high seas for the 
 taking," vouched Jack. " An your fine gentle 
 men grow rich that way, why mayn t I?" 
 66 
 
M. RADISSON AGAIN 
 
 " Jack," I warned, thinking of Ben Gillam s 
 craft rigged with sails of as many colours as 
 Joseph s coat, " Jack is it a pirate-ship? " 
 
 " No," laughed the sailor lad sheepishly, 
 " tis a pirateer," meaning thereby a privateer, 
 which was the same thing in those days. 
 
 " Have a care of your pirateers privateers, 
 Jack," said I, speaking plain. "A gentleman 
 would be run through the gullet with a clean 
 rapier, but you you would be strangled by 
 sentence of court or sold to the Barbadoes." 
 
 " Not if the warden o the court owns half 
 the ship," protested Jack, smiling queerly under 
 his shaggy brows. 
 
 "Oh- ho!" said I, thinking of Rebecca s 
 father, and beginning to understand who sup 
 plied money for Ben Gillam s ventures. 
 
 " I m tired o being a kick-a-toe and fisti 
 cuff to everybody. Now, if I d been rich and 
 had a ship, I might a sailed for M. Picot." 
 
 " Or Mistress Hortense," I added, which 
 brought red spots to the sailor lad s cheeks. 
 
 Off he went unanswering, leaving me at gaze 
 across an unbroken sea with a heart heavy as lead. 
 
 " Poor fellow! He will get over it," said I. 
 
 " Another hath need o the same medicine," 
 came a voice. 
 
 I wheeled, expecting arrest. 
 67 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 A tall, wiry man, with coal-black hair and 
 deep-set eyes and a scar across his swarth skin, 
 smiled pleasantly down at me. 
 
 " Now that you have them safely off," said 
 he, still smiling, " better begone yourself." 
 
 " I ll thank you for your advice when I ask 
 it, sir," said I, suspicious of the press-gang in 
 festing that port. Involuntarily I caught at my 
 empty sword-belt. 
 
 " Permit me," proffered the gentleman, with 
 a broader smile, handing out his own rapier. 
 
 " Sir," said I, " your pardon, but the press- 
 gang have been busy of late." 
 
 " And the sheriffs may be busy to-day," he 
 laughed. " Black arts don t open stone walls, 
 Ramsay." 
 
 And he sent the blade clanking home to its 
 scabbard. His surtout falling open revealed a 
 waistcoat of buckskin. I searched his face. 
 
 "M. deRadisson!" 
 
 " My hero of rescues," and he offered his 
 hand. " And my quondam nephew," he added, 
 laughing; for his wife was a Kirke of the Eng 
 lish branch, and my aunt was married to Eli. 
 
 " Eli Kirke cannot know you are here, 
 sir " 
 
 " Eli Kirke need not know," emphasized 
 Radisson dryly. 
 
 68 
 
M. RADISSON AGAIN 
 
 And remembering bits of rumour about M. 
 Radisson deserting the English Fur Company, 
 I hastened to add: " Eli Kirke shall not know! " 
 " Your wits jump quick enough sometimes," 
 said he. " Now tell me, whose is she, and what 
 value do you set on her? " 
 
 I was speechless with surprise. However 
 wild a life M. Radisson led, his title of nobility 
 was from a king who awarded patents to gen 
 tlemen only. 
 
 " We neither call our women she nor give 
 them market value," I retorted. 
 
 Thereupon M. de Radisson falls in such fits 
 of laughter, I had thought he must split his bal- 
 drick. 
 
 "Pardieu!" he laughed, wiping the tears 
 away with a fangled lace thing fit for a dandy, 
 "Pardieu! Tis not your girl-page? Tis the 
 ship o that hangdog of a New England captain!" 
 The thing came in a jiffy. Sieur Radisson, 
 having deserted the English Fur Company, was 
 setting up for himself. He was spying the 
 strength of his rivals for the north sea. 
 
 " You praised my wit. I have but given 
 you a sample." 
 
 Then I told him all I knew of the ship, and 
 M. de Radisson laughed again till he was like 
 to weep. 
 
 69 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " How is she called? " he asked. 
 
 " The Prince Rupert," said I. 
 
 "Ha! Then the same crew of gentlemen s 
 scullions and courtiers valets stuffing the lock 
 ers full o trash to trade on their master s ac 
 count. A pretty cheat for the Company! " 
 
 The end of it was, M. Radisson invited me 
 to join his ships. " A beaver-skin for a needle, 
 Ramsay! Twenty otter for an awl! Wealth for 
 a merchant prince," he urged. 
 
 But no sooner had I grasped at this easy 
 way out of difficulty than the Frenchman in 
 terrupts: " Hold back, man! Do you know the 
 risk?" 
 
 " No nor care one rush! " 
 
 " Governor Frontenac demands half of the 
 furs for a license to trade, but M. de la Barre, 
 who comes to take his place, is a friend of 
 La Chesnaye s, and La Chesnaye owns our 
 ships " 
 
 " And you go without a license? " 
 
 " And the galleys for life " 
 
 " If you re caught," said I. 
 
 " Pardieu ! " he laughed, " yes if we re 
 caught!" 
 
 " I d as lief go to the galleys for fur-trading 
 as the scaffold for witchcraft," said I. 
 
 With that our bargain was sealed. 
 70 
 
PART II. 
 
Now comes that part of a life which deals with what 
 you will say no one man could do, yet the things were done ; 
 with wonders stranger than witchcraft, yet were true. But 
 because you have never lived a sword-length from city 
 pavement, nor seen one man holding his own against a thou 
 sand enemies, I pray you deny not these things. 
 
 Each life is a shut-in valley, says the jongliere; but 
 Manitou, who strides from peak to peak, knows there is 
 more than one valley, which had been a maxim among the 
 jonglieres long before one Danish gentleman assured another 
 there were more things in heaven and earth than philosophy 
 dreamed. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE ROARING FORTIES 
 
 KEEN as an arrow from twanging bowstring, 
 Pierre Radisson set sail over the roaring seas 
 for the northern bay. 
 
 Twas midsummer before his busy flittings 
 between Acadia and Quebec brought us to Isle 
 Percee, at the mouth of the St. Lawrence. Here 
 Chouart Groseillers (his brother-in-law) lay with 
 two of the craziest craft that ever rocked anchor. 
 I scarce had time to note the bulging hulls, stout 
 at stem and stern with deep sinking of the waist, 
 before M. Radisson had climbed the ship s lad 
 der and scattered quick commands that sent 
 sailors shinning up masts, for all the world like 
 so many monkeys. The St. Pierre, our ship 
 was called, in honour of Pierre Radisson; for 
 admiral and captain and trader, all in one, was 
 Sieur Radisson, himself. Indeed, he could reef 
 a sail as handily as any old tar. I have seen 
 him take the wheel and hurl Allemand head 
 foremost from the pilot-house when that sponge- 
 
 73 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 soaked rascal had imbibed more gin than was 
 safe for the weathering of rocky coasts. 
 
 Call him gamester, liar, cheat what you 
 will! He had his faults, which dogged him down 
 to poverty and ruin; but deeds are proof of the 
 inner man. And look you that judge Pierre 
 Radisson whether your own deeds ring as met 
 tle and true. 
 
 The ironwood capstan bars clanked to that 
 seaman s music of running sailors. A clattering 
 of the pawls the anchor came away. The St. 
 Pierre shook out her bellying sails and the white 
 sheets drew to a full beam wind. Long foam 
 lines crisped away from the prow. Green shores 
 slipped to haze of distance. With her larboard 
 lipping low and that long break of swishing wa 
 ters against her ports which is as a croon to the 
 seaman s ear, the St. Pierre dipped and rose 
 and sank again to the swell of the billowing sea. 
 Behind, crowding every stitch of canvas and 
 staggering not a little as she got under weigh, 
 ploughed the Ste. Anne. And all about, heav 
 ing and falling like the deep breathings of a 
 slumbering monster, were the wide wastes of 
 the sea. 
 
 And how I wish that I could take you back 
 with me and show you the two miserable old 
 gallipots which M. de Radisson rode into the 
 74 
 
THE ROARING FORTIES 
 
 roaring forties! Twas as if those gods of chance 
 that had held riotous sway over all that watery 
 desolation now first discovered one greater than 
 themselves a rebel mid their warring elements 
 whose will they might harry but could not crush 
 Man, the king undaunted, coming to his own! 
 Children oft get closer to the essences of truth 
 than older folk grown foolish with too much 
 learning. As a child I used to think what a 
 wonderful moment that was when Man, the 
 master, first appeared on face of earth. How 
 did the beasts and the seas and the winds feel 
 about it, I asked. Did they laugh at this fellow, 
 the most helpless of all things, setting out to 
 conquer all things? Did the beasts pursue him 
 till he made bow and arrow and the seas defy 
 him till he rafted their waters and the winds 
 blow his house down till he dovetailed his tim 
 bers? That was the child s way of asking a very 
 old question Was Man the sport of the ele 
 ments, the plaything of all the cruel, blind gods 
 of chance? 
 
 Now, the position was reversed. 
 
 Now, I learned how the Man must have felt 
 when he set about conquering the elements, sub 
 duing land and sea and savagery. And in that 
 lies the Homeric greatness of this vast, fresh, 
 New World of ours. Your Old World victor 
 6 75 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 takes up the unfinished work left by generations 
 of men. Your New World hero begins at the 
 pristine task. I pray you, who are born to the 
 nobility of the New World, forget not the glory 
 of your heritage; for the place which God hath 
 given you in the history of the race is one which 
 men must hold in envy when Roman patri 
 cian and Norman conqueror and robber baron 
 are as forgotten as the kingly lines of old 
 Egypt. 
 
 Fifty ton was our craft, with a crazy pitch 
 to her prow like to take a man s stomach out 
 and the groaning of infernal fiends in her tim 
 bers. Twelve men, our crew all told, half of 
 them young gentlemen of fortune from Quebec, 
 with titles as long as a tilting lance and the 
 fighting blood of a Spanish don and the airs of 
 a king s grand chamberlain. Their seamanship 
 you may guess. All of them spent the better 
 part of the first weeks at sea full length below 
 deck. Of a calm day they lolled disconsolate 
 over the taffrail, with one eye alert for flight 
 down the companionway when the ship began 
 to heave. 
 
 " What are you doing back there, La Ches- 
 naye? " asks M. de Radisson, with a quiet wink, 
 not speaking loud enough for fo castle hands to 
 hear. 
 
THE ROARING FORTIES 
 
 " Cursing myself for ever coming," growls 
 that young gentleman, scarce turning his head. 
 
 " In that case," smiles Sieur Radisson, " you 
 might be better occupied learning to take a 
 hand at the helm." 
 
 " Sir," pleads La Chesnaye meekly, " tis all 
 I can do to ballast the ship below stairs." 
 
 Tis laziness, La Chesnaye," vows Radisson. 
 " Men are thrown overboard for less! " 
 
 " A quick death were kindness, sir," groans 
 La Chesnaye, scalloping in blind zigzags for the 
 stair. " May I be shot from that cannon, sir, 
 if I ever set foot on ship again! " 
 
 M. de Radisson laughs, and the place of the 
 merchant prince is taken by the marquis with 
 a face the gray shade of old Tibbie s linen a- 
 bleaching on the green. 
 
 The Ste. Anne, under Groseillers whom we 
 called Mr. Gooseberry when he wore his airs too 
 mightily was better manned, having able-bod 
 ied seamen, who distinguished themselves by a 
 mutiny. 
 
 Of which you shall hear anon. 
 
 But the spirits of our young gentlemen took 
 a prodigious leap upward as their bodies be 
 came used to the crazy pace of our ship, whose 
 gait I can compare only to the bouncings of 
 loose timber in a heavy sea. North of New- 
 
 77 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 foundland we were blanketed in a dirty fog. 
 That gave our fine gentlemen a chance to right 
 end up. 
 
 " Every man of them a good seaman in 
 calm weather," Sieur Radisson observed; and he 
 put them through marine drill all that week. 
 
 La Chesnaye so far recovered that he some 
 times kept me company at the bowsprit, where 
 we watched the clumsy gambols of the porpoise, 
 racing and leaping and turning somersets in 
 mid-air about the ship. Once, I mind the St. 
 Pierre gave a tremor as if her keel had grated 
 a reef; and a monster silver-stripe heaved up 
 on our lee. Twas a finback whale, M. Radis 
 son explained; and he protested against the im 
 pudence of scratching its back on our keel. As 
 we sailed farther north many a school of roll 
 ing finbacks glistened silver in the sun or rose 
 higher than our masthead, when one took the 
 death-leap to escape its leagued foes sword- 
 fish and thrasher and shark. And to give you 
 an idea of the fearful tide breaking through the 
 narrow fiords of that rock-bound coast, I may 
 tell you that La Chesnaye and I have often seen 
 those leviathans of the deep swept tail foremost 
 by the driving tide into some land-locked la 
 goon and there beached high on naked rock. 
 That was the sea M. Radisson was navigating 
 
 78 
 
THE ROARING FORTIES 
 
 with cockle-shell boats unstable of pace as a va 
 grant with rickets. 
 
 Even Foret, the marquis, forgot his dainty- 
 fingered dignity and took a hand at the fishing 
 of a shark one day. The cook had put out a 
 bait at the end of a chain fastened to the cap 
 stan, when comes a mighty tug; and the cook 
 shouts out that he has caught a shark. All 
 hands are hailed to the capstan, and every one 
 of my fine gentlemen grasps an ironwood bar 
 to hoist the monster home. I wish you had 
 seen their faces when the shark s great head with 
 six rows of teeth in its gaping upper jaw came 
 abreast the deck! Half the fellows were for 
 throwing down the bars and running, but the 
 other half would not show white feather before 
 the common sailors; and two or three clanking 
 rounds brought the great shark lashing to deck 
 in a way that sent us scuttling up the ratlines. 
 But Foret would not be beaten. He thrust an 
 ironwood bar across the gaping jaws. The 
 shark tore the wood to splinters. There was 
 a rip that snapped the cable with the report of 
 a pistol, and the great fish was over deck and 
 away in the sea. 
 
 By this, you may know, we had all left our 
 landsmen s fears far south of Belle Isle and were 
 filled with the spirit of that wild, tempestuous 
 
 79 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 world where the storm never sleeps and the cord 
 age pipes on calmest day and the beam seas 
 break in the long, low, growling wash that warns 
 the coming hurricane. 
 
 But if you think we were a Noah s ark of 
 solemn faces mid all that warring desolation, 
 you are much mistaken. I doubt if lamenta 
 tions ever did as much to lift mankind to vic 
 tory as the naughty glee of the shrieking fife. 
 And of glee, we had a-plenty on all that voy 
 age north. 
 
 La Chesnaye, son of the merchant prince who 
 owned our ships, played cock-o -the-walk, took 
 rank next to M. Radisson, and called himself 
 deputy - governor. Foret, whose father had 
 a stretch of barren shingle on The Labrador, 
 and who had himself received letters patent from 
 His Most Christian Majesty for a marquisate, 
 swore he would be cursed if he gave the pas to 
 La Chesnaye, or any other commoner. And M. 
 de Radisson was as great a stickler for fine 
 points as any of the new-fledged colonials. When 
 he called a conference, he must needs muster 
 to the quarter-deck by beat of drum, with a 
 tipstaff, having a silver bauble of a stick, lead 
 ing the way. This office fell to Godefroy, the 
 trader, a fellow with the figure of a slat and 
 a scalp tonsured bare as a billiard-ball by Indian 
 
 80 
 
THE ROARING FORTIES 
 
 hunting-knife. Spite of many a thwack from 
 the flat of M. de Radisson s sword, Godefroy 
 would carry the silver mace to the chant of a 
 " diddle-dee-dee," which he was always hum 
 ming in a sand-papered voice wherever he went. 
 At beat of drum for conference we all came 
 scrambling down the ratlines like tumbling acro 
 bats of a country fair. Godefroy grasps his sil 
 ver stick. 
 
 " Fall in line, there, deputy-governor, did 
 dle-dee-dee! " 
 
 La Chesnaye cuffs the fellow s ears. 
 
 "Diddle-dee-dee! Come on, marquis. Does 
 Your High Mightiness give place to a mer 
 chant s son? Heaven help you, gentlemen! 
 Come on! Come on! Diddle-dee-dee!" 
 
 And we all march to M. de Radisson s cabin 
 and sit down gravely at a long table. 
 
 " Pot o beer, tipstaff," orders Radisson; 
 and Godefroy goes off slapping his buckskins 
 with glee. 
 
 M. Radisson no more takes off his hat than 
 a king s ambassador, but he waits for La Ches 
 naye and Foret to uncover. The merchant 
 strums on the table and glares at the marquis, 
 and the marquis looks at the skylight, waiting 
 for the merchant; and the end of it is M. Radis 
 son must give Godefroy the wink, who knocks 
 
 Si 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 both their hats off at once, explaining that a 
 landsman can ill keep his legs on the sea, and 
 the sea is no respecter of persons. Once, at 
 the end of his byplay between the two young 
 fire-eaters, the sea lurched in earnest, a mighty 
 pitch that threw tipstaff sprawling across the 
 table. And the beer went full in the face of 
 the marquis. 
 
 "There s a health to you, Foret!" roared 
 the merchant in whirlwinds of laughter. 
 
 But the marquis had gone heels over head. 
 He gained his feet as the ship righted, whipped 
 out his rapier, vowed he would dust somebody s 
 jacket, and caught up Godefroy on the tip of 
 his sword by the rascal s belt. 
 
 " Foret, I prote st," cried M. Radisson, scarce 
 speaking for laughter, " I protest there s noth 
 ing spilt but the beer and the dignity! The 
 beer can be mopped. There s plenty o dignity 
 in the same barrel. Save Godefroy! We can ill 
 spare a man! " 
 
 With a quick rip of his own rapier, Radisson 
 had cut Godefroy s belt and the wretch scuttled 
 up-stairs out of reach. Sailors wiped up the 
 beer, and all hands braced chairs twixt table and 
 wall to await M. Radisson s pleasure. 
 
 He had dressed with unusual care. Gold 
 braid edged his black doublet, and fine old 
 
 82 
 
THE ROARING FORTIES 
 
 Mechlin came back over his sleeves in deep ruffs. 
 And in his eyes the glancing light of steel strik 
 ing fire. 
 
 Bidding the sailors take themselves off, M. 
 Radisson drew his blade from the scabbard and 
 called attention by a sharp rap. 
 
 Quick silence fell, and he laid the naked 
 sword across the table. His right hand played 
 with the jewelled hilt. Across his breast were 
 medals and stars of honour given him by many 
 monarchs. I think as we looked at our leader 
 every man of us would have esteemed it honour 
 to sail the seas in a tub if Pierre Radisson cap 
 tained the craft. 
 
 But his left hand was twitching uneasily at 
 his chin, and in his eyes were the restless lights. 
 
 " Gentlemen," says he, as unconcerned as if 
 he were forecasting weather, " gentlemen, I seem 
 to have heard that the crew of my kinsman s 
 ship have mutinied." 
 
 We were nigh a thousand leagues from res 
 cue or help that day! 
 
 " Mutinied! " shrieks La Chesnaye, with his 
 voice all athrill. " Mutinied? What will my 
 father have to say?" 
 
 And he clapped his tilted chair to floor 
 with a thwack that might have echoed to the 
 fo castle. 
 
 83 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " Shall I lend you a trumpet, La Chesnaye, 
 or or a fife? " asks M. Radisson, very quiet. 
 
 And I assure you there was no more loud 
 talk in the cabin that day; only the long, low 
 wash and pound and break of the seas abeam, 
 with the surly wail that portends storm. I do 
 not believe any of us ever realized what a frail 
 chip was between life and eternity till we heard 
 the wrenching and groaning of the timbers in 
 the silence that followed M. Radisson s words. 
 
 " Gentlemen," continues M. Radisson, softer- 
 spoken than before, " if any one here is for turn 
 ing back, I desire him to stand up and say so." 
 
 The St. Pierre shipped a sea with a strain 
 like to tear her asunder, and waters went siz 
 zling through lee scuppers above with the hiss 
 of a cataract. M. Radisson inverts a sand-glass 
 and watches the sand trickle through till the 
 last grain drops. Then he turns to us. 
 
 Two or three faces had gone white as the 
 driving spray, but never a man opened his lips 
 to counsel return. 
 
 " Gentlemen," says M. Radisson, with the 
 fires agleam in his deep-set eyes, " am I to 
 understand that every one here is for going for 
 ward at any risk? " 
 
 "Aye aye, sir!" burst like a clarion from 
 our circle. 
 
 84 
 
THE ROARING FORTIES 
 
 Pierre Radisson smiled quietly. 
 
 " Tis as well," says he, " for I bade the cow 
 ard stand up so that I could run him through 
 to the hilt," and he clanked the sword back to 
 its scabbard. 
 
 " As I said before," he went on, " the crew on 
 my kinsman s ship have mutinied. There s an 
 other trifle to keep under your caps, gentlemen 
 the mutineers have been running up pirate 
 signals to the crew of this ship " 
 
 " Pirate signals!" interrupts La Chesnaye, 
 whose temper was ever crackling off like grains 
 of gunpowder. " May I ask, sir, how you know 
 the pirate signals? " 
 
 M. de Radisson s face was a study in 
 masks. 
 
 " You may ask, La Chesnaye," says he, rub 
 bing his chin with a wrinkling smile, " you may 
 ask, but I m hanged if I answer! " 
 
 And from lips that had whitened with fear 
 but a moment before came laughter that set the 
 timbers ringing. 
 
 Then Foret found his tongue. 
 
 " Hang a baker s dozen of the mutineers 
 from the yard-arm!" 
 
 "A baker s dozen is thirteen, Foret," re 
 torted Radisson, "and the Ste. Anne s crew 
 numbers fifteen." 
 
 8$ 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " Hang em in effigy as they do in Quebec," 
 persists Foret. 
 
 Pierre Radisson only pointed over his shoul 
 der to the port astern. Crowding to the glazed 
 window we saw a dozen scarecrows tossing from 
 the crosstrees of Groseillers s ship. 
 
 " What does Captain Radisson advise? " asks 
 La Chesnaye. 
 
 " La Chesnaye/ says Radisson, " I never ad 
 vise. I act!" 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 M. DE RADISSON ACTS 
 
 QUICK as tongue could trip off the orders, 
 eyes everywhere, thought and act jumping to 
 gether, Pierre Radisson had given each one his 
 part, and pledged our obedience, though he bade 
 us walk the plank blindfold to the sea. Two 
 men were set to transferring powder and arms 
 from the forehold to our captain s cabin. One 
 went hand over fist up the mainmast and sig 
 nalled the Ste. Anne to close up. Jackets were 
 torn from the deck-guns and the guns slued 
 round to sweep from stem to stern. With a 
 jarring of cranes and shaking of timbers, the 
 two ships bumped together; and a more sur 
 prised looking lot of men than the crew of the 
 Ste. Anne you never saw. Pierre Radisson had 
 played the rogues their own game in the mat 
 ter of signals. They had thought the St. Pierre 
 in league, else would they not have come into 
 his trap so readily. Before they had time to 
 protest, the ships were together, the two cap- 
 
 87 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 tains conferring face to face across the rails, and 
 our sailors standing at arms ready to shoot down 
 the first rebel. 
 
 At a word, the St. Pierre s crew were scram 
 bling to the Ste. Anne s decks. A shout through 
 the trumpet of the Ste. Anne s bo swain and the 
 mutinous crew of the Ste. Anne were marched 
 aboard the St. Pierre. 
 
 Then M. Radisson s plan became plain. The 
 other ship was the better. M. de Radisson was 
 determined that at least one crew should reach 
 the bay. Besides, as he had half-laughingly in 
 sinuated, perhaps he knew better than Chouart 
 Groseillers of the Ste. Anne how to manage mu 
 tinous pirates. Of the St. Pierre s crew, three 
 only remained with Radisson: Allemand, in the 
 pilot-house; young Jean Groseillers, Chouart s 
 son, on guard aft; and myself, armed with a 
 musket, to sweep the fo castle. 
 
 And all the time there was such a rolling sea 
 the two ships were like to pound their bulwarks 
 to kindling wood. Then the Ste. Anne eased 
 off, sheered away, and wore ship for open 
 sea. 
 
 Pierre Radisson turned. There faced him 
 that grim, mutinous crew. 
 
 No need to try orders then. Twas the cat 
 those men wanted. Before Pierre Radisson had 
 
 88 
 
M. DE RADISSON ACTS 
 
 said one word the mutineers had discovered the 
 deck cannon pointing amidships. A shout of baf 
 fled rage broke from the ragged group. Quick 
 words passed from man to man. A noisy, shuf 
 fling, indeterminate movement! The crowd 
 swayed forward. There was a sudden rush 
 from the fo castle to the waist. They had 
 charged to gain possession of the powder cabin 
 Pierre Radisson raised his pistol. For an in 
 stant they held back. Then a barefoot fellow 
 struck at him with a belaying-pin. 
 
 Twere better for that man if he had called 
 down the lightnings. 
 
 Quicker than I can tell it, Pierre Radisson 
 had sprung upon him. The Frenchman s left 
 arm had coiled the fellow round the waist. Our 
 leader s pistol flashed a circle that drove the 
 rabble back, and the ringleader went hurling 
 head foremost through the main hatch with 
 force like to flatten his skull to a gun-wad. 
 
 There was a mighty scattering back to the 
 fo castle then, I promise you. 
 
 Pierre Radisson uttered never a syllable. He 
 pointed to the fore scuttle. Then he pointed 
 to the men. Down they went under hatches 
 rats in a trap! 
 
 "Tramp bundle pack!" says he, as the 
 last man bobbed below. 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 But with a ping that raised the hair from 
 my head, came a pistol-shot from the main 
 masts. There, perched astride of the cross- 
 trees, was a rascal mutineer popping at M. Ra- 
 disson bold as you please. 
 
 Our captain took off his beaver, felt the bul 
 let-hole in the brim, looked up coolly, and 
 pointed his musket. 
 
 " Drop that pistol! " said he. 
 
 The fellow yelped out fear. Down clattered 
 his weapon to the deck. 
 
 " Now sit there," ordered Radisson, repla 
 cing his beaver. " Sit there till I give you leave 
 to come down! " 
 
 Allemand, the pilot, had lost his head and 
 Was steering a course crooked as a worm fence. 
 Young Jean Groseillers went white as the sails, 
 and scarce had strength to slue the guns back 
 or jacket their muzzles. And, instead of curling 
 forward with the crest of the roll, the spray 
 began to chop off backward in little short 
 waves like a horse s mane a bad, bad sign, 
 as any seaman will testify. And I, with my 
 musket at guard above the fo scuttle, had a 
 heart thumping harder than the pounding 
 seas. 
 
 And what do you think M. Radisson said as 
 he wiped the sweat from his brow? 
 90 
 
M. DE RADISSON ACTS 
 
 " A pretty pickle,* indeed, to ground a man s 
 plans on such dashed impudence! Hazard o 
 life! As if a man would turn from his course 
 for them! Spiders o hell! I ll strike my top 
 mast to Death himself first so the devil go with 
 them! The blind gods may crush they shall 
 not conquer! They may kill but I snap my 
 fingers in their faces to the death! A pretty 
 pickle, indeed! Batten down the hatches, Ram 
 say. Lend Jean a hand to get the guns under 
 cover. There s a storm!" 
 
 And " a pretty pickle " it was, with the 
 " porps " floundering bodily from wave-crest to 
 wave-crest, the winds shrieking through the 
 cordage, and the storm-fiends brewing a hurri 
 cane like to engulf master and crew! 
 
 In the forehold were rebels who would sink 
 us all to the bottom of the sea if they could. 
 Aft, powder enough to blow us all to eter 
 nity! On deck, one brave man, two chittering 
 lads, and a gin-soaked pilot steering a crazy 
 course among the fanged reefs of Labrador. 
 
 * These expressions are M. de Radisson s and not words 
 coined by Mr. Stanhope, as may be seen by reference to the 
 French explorer s account of his own travels, written partly 
 in English, where he repeatedly refers to a "pretty pickle." 
 As for the ships, they seem to have been something between 
 a modern whaler and old-time brigantine. AUTHOR. 
 7 9 I 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 The wind backed and veered and came again 
 so that a weather-vane could not have shown 
 which way it blew. At one moment the ship 
 was jumping from wave to wave before the wind 
 with a single tiny storms l out. At another I 
 had thought we must scud under bare poles for 
 open sea. 
 
 The coast sheered vertical like a rampart 
 wall, and up up up that dripping rock 
 clutched the tossing billows like watery arms 
 of sirens. It needed no seaman to prophecy the 
 fate of a boat caught between that rock and 
 a nor easter. 
 
 Then the gale would veer, and out raced a 
 tidal billow of waters like to take the St. Pierre 
 broadside. 
 
 " Helm hard alee!" shouts Radisson in the 
 teeth of the gale. 
 
 For the fraction of a second we were driving 
 before the oncoming rush. 
 
 Then the sea rose up in a wall on our 
 rear. 
 
 There was a shattering crash. The billows 
 broke in sheets of whipping spray. The decks 
 swam with a river of waters. One gun wrenched 
 loose, teetered to the roll, and pitched into the 
 seething deep. Yard-arms came splintering to 
 the deck. There was a roaring of waters over 
 92 
 
M. DE RADISSON ACTS 
 
 us, under us, round us then M. de Radisson, 
 Jean, and I went slithering forward like water- 
 rats caught in a whirlpool. My feet struck 
 against windlass chains. Jean saved himself 
 from washing overboard by cannoning into me; 
 but before the dripping bowsprit rose again to 
 mount the swell, M. de Radisson was up, sha 
 king off spray like a water-dog and muttering 
 to himself: " To be snuffed out like a candle 
 no no no, my fine fellows! Leap to meet 
 it! Leap to meet it!" 
 
 And he was at the wheel himself. 
 
 The ship gave a long shudder, staggered 
 back, stern foremost, to the trough of the 
 swell, and lay weltering cataracts from her 
 decks. 
 
 There was a pause of sudden quiet, the quiet 
 of forces gathering strength for fiercer assault; 
 and in that pause I remembered something had 
 flung over me in the wash of the breaking sea. 
 I looked to the crosstrees. The mutineer was 
 gone. 
 
 It was the first and last time that I have 
 ever seen a smoking sea. The ocean boiled 
 white. Far out in the wake of the tide that had 
 caught us foam smoked on the track of the 
 ploughing waters. Waters did I say? You 
 could not see waters for the spray. 
 
 93 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 Then Jean bade me look how the stays l had 
 been torn to flutters, and we both set about 
 righting decks. 
 
 For all I could see, M. Radisson was simply 
 holding the wheel; but the holding of a wheel 
 in stress is mighty fine seamanship. To keep 
 that old gallipot from shipping seas in the 
 tempest of billows was a more ticklish task 
 than rope-walking a whirlpool or sacking a 
 city. 
 
 Presently came two sounds a swish of seas 
 at our stern and the booming of surf against 
 coast rocks. Then M. de Radisson did the mad 
 dest thing that ever I have seen. Both sounds 
 told of the coming tempest. The veering wind 
 settled to a driving nor easter, and M. de Radis 
 son was steering straight as a bullet to the mark 
 for that rock wall. 
 
 But I did not know that coast. When our 
 ship was but three lengths from destruction the 
 St. Pierre answered to the helm. Her prow 
 rounded a sharp rock. Then the wind caught 
 her, whirling her right about; but in she went, 
 stern foremost, like a fish, between the narrow 
 walls of a fiord to the quiet shelter of a land 
 locked lagoon. Pierre Radisson had taken 
 refuge in what the sailors call " a hole in the 
 wall." 
 
 94 
 
M. DE RADISSON ACTS 
 
 There we lay close reefed, both anchors out, 
 while the hurricane held high carnival on the 
 outer sea. 
 
 After we had put the St. Pierre ship-shape, 
 M. Radisson stationed Jean and me fore and aft 
 with muskets levelled, and bade us shoot any 
 man but himself who appeared above the hatch. 
 Arming himself with his short, curved hanger 
 oh, I warrant there would have been a carving 
 below decks had any one resisted him that day! 
 down he went to the mutineers of the dim- 
 lighted forehold. 
 
 Perhaps the storm had quelled the spirit of 
 rebellion; but up came M. de Radisson, fol 
 lowed by the entire crew one fellow s head in 
 white cotton where it had struck the floor, and 
 every man jumping keen to answer his captain s 
 word. 
 
 I must not forget a curious thing that hap 
 pened as we lay at anchor. The storm had 
 scarce abated when a strange ship poked her 
 jib-boom across the entrance to the lagoon, fol 
 lowed by queer-rigged black sails. 
 
 "A pirate!" said Jean. 
 
 But Sieur de Radisson only puckered his 
 brows, shifted position so that the St. Pierre 
 could give a broadside, and said nothing. 
 
 Then came the strangest part of it. Another 
 95 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 ship poked her nose across the other side of the 
 entrance. This was white-rigged. 
 
 " Two ships, and they have us cooped! " ex 
 claimed Jean. 
 
 "One sporting different sails/ said M. de 
 Radisson contemptuously. 
 
 " What do you think we should do, sir? " 
 asked Jean. 
 
 " Think? " demanded Radisson. " I have 
 stopped thinking! I act! My thoughts are 
 acts." 
 
 But all the same his thought at that moment 
 was to let go a broadside that sent the stranger 
 scudding. Judging it unwise to keep a half- 
 mutinous crew too near pirate ships, M. Radis 
 son ordered anchor up. With a deck-mop fast 
 ened in defiance to ur prow, the St. Pierre 
 slipped out of the harbour through the half-dark 
 of those northern summer nights, and gave the 
 heel to any highwayman waiting to attack as 
 she passed. 
 
 The rest of the voyage was a ploughing 
 through brash ice in the straits, with an occa 
 sional disembarking at the edge of some great 
 ice-field; but one morning we were all awakened 
 from the heavy sleep of hard-worked seamen by 
 the screaming of a multitude of birds. The air 
 was odorous with the crisp smell of woods, 
 
 96 
 
M. DE RADISSON ACTS 
 
 When we came on deck, twas to see the St. 
 Pierre anchored in the cove of a river that raced 
 to meet the bay. 
 
 The screaming gulls knew not what to make 
 of these strange visitors; for we were at Port 
 Nelson Fort Bourbon, as the French called it. 
 
 And you must not forget that we were 
 French on that trip! 
 
 97 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 M. DE RADISSON COMES TO HIS OWN 
 
 THE sea was touched to silver by the rising 
 sun not the warm, red sun of southern climes, 
 nor yet the gold light of the temperate zones, 
 but the cold, clear steel of that great cold land 
 where all the warring elements challenge man 
 to combat. Browned by the early frosts, with 
 a glint of hoar rime on the cobwebs among the 
 grasses, north, south, and west, as far as eye 
 could see, were boundless reaches of hill and 
 valley. And over all lay the rich-toned shadows 
 of early dawn. 
 
 The broad river raced not to meet the sea 
 more swiftly than our pulses leaped at sight of 
 that unclaimed world. Twas a kingdom wait 
 ing for its king. And its king had come! 
 
 Flush with triumph, sniffing the nutty, au 
 tumn air like a war-horse keen for battle, stood 
 M. Radisson all impatience for the conquest of 
 new realms. His jewelled sword-hilt glistened 
 in the sun. The fire that always slumbered in 
 
DE RADISSON COMES TO HIS OWN 
 
 the deep-set eyes flashed to life; and, fetching 
 a deep breath, he said a queer thing to Jean 
 and me. 
 
 " Tis good air, lads/ says he; " tis free!" 
 And I, who minded that bloody war in which 
 my father lost his all, knew what the words 
 meant, and drank deep. 
 
 But for the screaming of the birds there was 
 silence of death. And, indeed, it was death we 
 had come to disenthrone. M. Radisson issued 
 orders quick on top of one another, and the 
 sailors swarmed from the hold like bees from 
 a hive. The drum beat a roundelay that set our 
 blood hopping. There were trumpet-calls back 
 and forth from our ship to the Ste. Anne. Then, 
 to a whacking of cables through blocks, the 
 gig-boats touched water, and all hands were ra 
 cing for the shore. Godefroy waved a monster 
 flag lilies of France, gold-wrought on cloth of 
 silk a nd Allemand kept beating and beating 
 and beating the drum, rumbling out a " Vive 
 le Roi! " to every stroke. Before the keel grav 
 elled on the beach, M. Radisson s foot was on 
 the gunwale, and he leaped ashore. Godefroy 
 followed, flourishing the French flag and yell 
 ing at the top of his voice for the King of France. 
 Behind, wading and floundering through the 
 water, came the rest. Godefroy planted the flag- 
 
 99 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 staff. The two crews sent up a shout that star 
 tled those strange, primeval silences. Then, M. 
 Radisson stepped forward, hat in hand, whipped 
 out his sword, and held it aloft. 
 
 " In the name of Louis the Great, King of 
 France," he shouted, " in the name of His Most 
 Christian Majesty, the King of France, I take 
 possession of all these regions! " 
 
 At that, Chouart Groseillers shivered a bot 
 tle of wine against the flag-pole. Drums beat, 
 fifes shrieked as for battle, and lusty cheers for 
 the king and Sieur Radisson rang and echoed 
 and re-echoed from our crews. Three times did 
 Allemand beat his drum and three times did 
 we cheer. Then Pierre Radisson raised his 
 sword. Every man dropped to knee. Catholics 
 and Protestants, Calvinists and infidels, and riff 
 raff adventurers who had no religion but what 
 they swore by, bowed their heads to the solemn 
 thanks which Pierre Radisson uttered for safe 
 deliverance from perilous voyage.* 
 
 That was my first experience of the fusion 
 which the New World makes of Old World divi 
 sions. We thought we had taken possession of 
 
 * Reference to M. Radisson s journal corroborates Mr. 
 Stanhope in this observance, which was never neglected by 
 M. Radisson after season of peril. It is to be noted that he 
 made his prayers after not at the season of peril. 
 IOO 
 
DE RADISSON COMES TO HIS OWN 
 
 the land. No, no, twas the land had taken pos 
 session of us, as the New World ever does, fusing 
 ancient hates and rearing a new race, of which 
 
 I W ot no prophet may dare too much! 
 
 " He who twiddles his thumbs may gnaw his 
 gums," M. Radisson was wont to say; and I 
 assure you there was no twiddling of thumbs 
 that morning. Bare had M. Radisson finished 
 prayers, when he gave sharp command for Gro- 
 seillers, his brother-in-law, to look to the build 
 ing of the Habitation as the French called 
 their forts while he himself would go up-stream 
 to seek the Indians for trade. Jean and Gode- 
 froy and I were sent to the ship for a birch canoe, 
 which M. Radisson had brought from Quebec. 
 
 Our leader took the bow; Godefroy, the 
 stern; Jean and I, the middle. A poise of the 
 steel-shod steering pole, we grasped our pad 
 dles, a downward dip, quick followed by Gode 
 froy at the stern, and out shot the canoe, swift, 
 light, lithe, alert, like a racer to the bit, with a 
 gurgling of waters below the gunwales, the keel 
 athrob to the swirl of a turbulent current and a 
 trail of eddies dimpling away on each side. A 
 sharp breeze sprang up abeam, and M. Radisson 
 ordered a blanket sail hoisted on the steersman s 
 fishing-pole. But if you think that he permitted 
 idle paddles because a wind would do the work, 
 101 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 you know not the ways of the great explorer. 
 He bade us ply the faster, till the canoe sped be 
 tween earth and sky like an arrow shot on the 
 level. The shore-line became a blur. Clumps of 
 juniper and pine marched abreast, halted the 
 length of time an eye could rest, and wheeled 
 away. The swift current raced to meet us. The 
 canoe jumped to mount the glossy waves raised 
 by the beam wind. An upward tilt of her prow, 
 and we had skimmed the swell like a winged 
 thing. And all the while M. Radisson s eyes 
 were everywhere. Chips whirled past. There 
 were beaver, he said. Was the water suddenly 
 muddied? Deer had flitted at our approach. 
 Did a fish rise? M. Radisson predicted otter; 
 and where there were otter and beaver and deer, 
 there should be Indians. 
 
 As for the rest of us, it had gone to our 
 heads. 
 
 We were intoxicated with the wine of the 
 rugged, new, free life. Sky above; wild woods 
 where never foot had trod ; air that drew 
 through the nostrils in thirst - quenching 
 draughts; blood atingle to the laughing rhythm 
 of the river what wonder that youth leaped to 
 a fresh life from the mummified existence of lit 
 tle, old peoples in little, old lands? 
 
 We laughed aloud from fulness of life. 
 102 
 
DE RADISSON COMES TO HIS OWN 
 
 Jean laid his paddle athwart, ripped off his 
 buckskin, and smiled back. 
 
 " Ramsay feels as if he had room to stretch 
 himself," said he. 
 
 " Feel! I feel as if I could run a thousand 
 
 miles and jump off the ends of the earth " 
 
 " And dive to the bottom of the sea and har 
 ness whales and play bowling-balls with the 
 spheres, you young rantipoles," added M. Radis- 
 son ironically. 
 
 " The fever of the adventurer," said Jean 
 quietly. " My uncle knows it." 
 
 I laughed again. " I was wondering if Eli 
 Kirke ever felt this way," I explained. 
 
 " Pardieu," retorted M. de Radisson, loosen 
 ing his coat, " if people moved more and moped 
 less, they d brew small bile ! Come, lads ! Come, 
 lads! We waste time! " 
 
 And we were paddling again, in quick, light 
 strokes, silent from zest, careless of toil, strenu 
 ous from love of it. 
 
 Once we came to a bend in the river where 
 the current was so strong that we had dipped 
 our paddles full five minutes against the mill 
 race without gaining an inch. The canoe 
 squirmed like a hunter balking a hedge, and 
 Jean s blade splintered off to the handle. But 
 M. de Radisson braced back to lighten the bow; 
 103 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 the prow rose, a sweep of the paddles, and on 
 we sped! 
 
 " Hard luck to pull and not gain a boat 
 length," observed Jean. 
 
 " Harder luck not to pull, and to be swept 
 back," corrected M. de Radisson. 
 
 We left the main river to thread a labyrin 
 thine chain of waterways, where were portages 
 over brambly shores and slippery rocks, with the 
 pace set at a run by M. de Radisson. Jean and 
 I followed with the pack straps across our fore 
 heads and the provisions on our backs. Gode- 
 froy brought up the rear with the bark canoe 
 above his head. 
 
 At one place, where we disembarked, M. de 
 Radisson traced the sand with the muzzle of his 
 musket. 
 
 " A boot-mark," said he, drawing the faint 
 outlines of a footprint, " and egad, it s not a 
 man s foot either! " 
 
 " Impossible! " cried Jean. " We are a thou 
 sand miles from any white-man." 
 
 " There s nothing impossible on this earth," 
 retorted Radisson impatiently. " But pardieu, 
 there are neither white women in this wilderness, 
 nor ghosts wearing women s boots! I d give my 
 right hand to know what left that mark! " 
 
 After that his haste grew feverish. We 
 104 
 
DE RADISSON COMES TO HIS OWN 
 
 snatched our meals by turns between paddles. 
 He seemed to grudge the waste of each night, 
 camping late and launching early; and it was 
 Godefroy s complaint that each portage was 
 made so swiftly there was no time for that solace 
 of the common voyageur the boatman s pipe. 
 For eight days we travelled without seeing a 
 sign of human presence but that one vague foot 
 mark in the sand. 
 
 " If there are no Indians, how much farther 
 do we go, sir? " asked Godefroy sulkily on the 
 eighth day. 
 
 "Till we find them," answered M. Radis- 
 son. 
 
 And we found them that night. 
 
 A deer broke from the woods edging the 
 sand where we camped and had almost bounded 
 across our fire when an Indian darted out a hun 
 dred yards behind. Mistaking us for his own 
 people, he whistled the hunter s signal to head 
 the game back. Then he saw that we were 
 strangers. Pulling up of a sudden, he threw 
 back his arms, uttered a cry of surprise, and ran 
 to the hiding of the busji. 
 
 M. Radisson was the first to pursue; but 
 where the sand joined the thicket he paused and 
 began tracing the point of his rapier round the 
 outlines of a mark. 
 
 105 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " What do you make of it, Godefroy? " he 
 demanded of the trader. 
 
 The trader looked quizzically at Sieur de 
 Radisson. 
 
 " The toes of that man s moccasin turn out," 
 says Godefroy significantly. 
 
 " Then that man is no Indian," retorted M. 
 Radisson, " and hang me, if the size is not that 
 of a woman or a boy! " 
 
 And he led back to the beach. 
 
 " Yon ship was a pirate," began Godefroy, 
 " and if buccaneers be about " 
 
 " Hold your clack, fool," interrupted M. 
 Radisson, as if the fellow s prattle had cut into 
 his mental plannings; and he bade us heap such 
 a fire as could be seen by Indians for a hundred 
 miles. " If once I can find the Indians," medi 
 tated he moodily, " I ll drive out a whole regi 
 ment of scoundrels with one snap o my thumb! " 
 
 Black clouds rolled in from the distant bay, 
 boding a stormy night ; and Godefroy began to 
 complain that black deeds were done in the dark, 
 and we were forty leagues away from the protec 
 tion of our ships. 
 
 " A pretty target that fire will make of us in 
 the dark," whined the fellow. 
 
 M. Radisson s eyes glistened sparks. 
 
 " I d as lief be a pirate myse,lf, a be shot 
 106 
 
DE RADISSON COMES TO HIS OWN 
 
 down by pirates," grumbled the trader, giving 
 a hand to hoist the shed of sheet canvas that was 
 to shield us from the rains now aslant against 
 the seaward horizon. 
 
 At the words M. Radisson turned sharply; 
 but the heedless fellow gabbled on. 
 
 " Where is a man to take cover, an the 
 buccaneers began shooting from the bush be 
 hind? " demanded Godefroy belligerently. 
 
 M. Radisson reached one arm across the fire. 
 " I ll show you," said he. Taking Godefroy by 
 the ear, with a prick of the sword he led the lazy 
 knave quick march to the beach, where lay our 
 canoe bottom up. 
 
 " Crawl under!" M. Radisson lifted the prow. 
 
 From very shame I think it was Godefroy 
 balked; but M. Radisson brought a cutting rap 
 across the rascal s heels that made him hop. 
 The canoe clapped down, and Godefroy was safe. 
 
 " Pardieu," mutters Radisson, " such cow 
 ards would turn the marrow o men s bones to 
 butter!" 
 
 Sitting on a log, with his feet to the fire, he 
 motioned Jean and me to come into the shelter 
 of the slant canvas; for the clouds were rolling 
 overhead black as ink and the wind roared up 
 the river-bed with a wall of pelting rain. M. 
 Radisson gazed absently into the flame. The 
 8 107 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 steel lights were at play in his eyes, and his lips 
 parted. 
 
 " Storm and cold man and beast powers 
 of darkness and devil knaves and fools and his 
 own sins he must fight them all, lads," says M. 
 Radisson slowly. 
 
 " Who must fight them all? " asks Jean. 
 
 " The victor," answers Radisson, and warm 
 red flashed to the surface of the cold steel in his 
 eyes. 
 
 "Jean," he began, looking up quickly to 
 wards the gathering darkness of the woods. 
 
 " Sir? " 
 
 " Tis cold enough for hunters to want a 
 fire." 
 
 " Is the fire not big enough? " 
 
 " Now, where are your wits, lad? If hunters 
 were hiding in that bush, one could see this fire 
 a long way off. The wind is loud. One could 
 go close without being heard. Pardieu, I ll 
 wager a good scout could creep up to a log like 
 this " touching the pine on which we sat 
 " and hear every word we are saying without a 
 soul being the wiser! " 
 
 Jean turned with a start, half-suspecting a 
 spy. Radisson laughed. 
 
 "Must I spell it out? Eh, lad, afraid to 
 
 go? " 
 
 108 
 
DE RADISSON COMES TO HIS OWN 
 
 The taunt bit home. Without a word Jean 
 and I rose. 
 
 " Keep far enough apart so that one of you 
 will escape back with the news," called Radis- 
 son, as we plunged into the woods. 
 
 Of the one who might not escape Pierre 
 Radisson gave small heed, and so did we. Jean 
 took the river side and I the inland thicket, feel 
 ing our way blindly through the blackness of for 
 est and storm and night. Then the rain broke 
 broke in lashing whip-cords with the crackle 
 of fire. Jean whistled and I signalled back; but 
 there was soon such a pounding of rains it 
 drowned every sound. For all the help one 
 could give the other we might have been a thou 
 sand miles apart. I looked back. M. Radisson s 
 fire threw a dull glare into the cavernous upper 
 darkness. That was guide enough. Jean could 
 keep his course by the river. 
 
 It was plunging into a black nowhere. The 
 trees thinned. I seemed to be running across 
 the open, the rain driving me forward like a 
 wet sail, a roar of wind in my ears and the words 
 of M. Radisson ringing their battle-cry 
 " Storm and cold man and beast powers of 
 darkness and devil knaves and fools and his 
 own sins he must fight them all! " " Who? " 
 "The victor!" 
 
 109 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 Of a sudden the dripping thicket gave back 
 a glint. Had I run in a circle and come again 
 on M. Radisson s fire? Behind, a dim glare still 
 shone against the sky. 
 
 Another glint from the rain drip, and I 
 dropped like a deer hit on the run. Not a gun 
 shot away was a hunter s fire. Against the fire 
 were three figures. One stood with his face to 
 wards me, an Indian dressed in buckskin, the 
 man who had pursued the deer. The second was 
 hid by an intervening tree; and as I watched, 
 the third faded into the phaseless dark. Who 
 were these night-watchers? I liked not that 
 business of spying though you may call it 
 scouting, if you will, but I must either report 
 nothing to M. Radisson, or find out more. 
 
 I turned to skirt the group. A pistol-shot 
 rang through the wood. A sword flashed to 
 light. Before I had time to think, but not 
 thanks to M. Picot s lessons long ago not be 
 fore I had my own rapier out, an assassin blade 
 would have taken me unawares. 
 
 I was on guard. Steel struck fire in red spots 
 as it clashed against steel. One thrust, I know, 
 touched home; for the pistol went whirling out 
 of my adversary s hand, and his sword came 
 through the dark with the hiss of a serpent. 
 Again I seemed to be in Boston Town; but the 
 no 
 
DE RADISSON COMES TO HIS OWN 
 
 hunting room had become a northland forest, M. 
 Picot, a bearded man with his back to the fire 
 and his face in the dark, and our slim foils, naked 
 swords that pressed and parried and thrust in 
 many a foul such as the French doctor had 
 taught me was a trick of the infamous Blood! 
 Indeed, I could have sworn that a woman s voice 
 cried out through the dark; but the rain was in 
 my face and a sword striking red against my 
 own. Thanks, yes, thanks a thousand times to 
 M. Picot s lessons; for again and yet again I 
 foiled that lunge of the unscrupulous swordsman 
 till I heard my adversary swearing between 
 clinched teeth. He retreated. I followed. By 
 a dexterous spring he put himself under cover of 
 the woods, leaving me in the open. My only 
 practice in swordsmanship had been with M. Pi- 
 cot, and it was not till long years after that I 
 minded how those lessons seemed to forestall 
 and counter the moves of that ambushed assas 
 sin. But the baffling thing was that my enemy s 
 moves countered mine in the very same way. 
 
 He had not seen my face, for my back was 
 turned when he came up, and my face in the 
 shade when I whirled. But I stood between the 
 dark and the fire. Every motion of mine he could 
 forecast, while I could but parry and retreat, 
 striving in vain to lure him out, to get into the 
 in 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 dark, to strike what I could not see, pushed back 
 and back till I felt the rush that aims not to dis 
 arm but to slay. 
 
 Our weapons rang with a glint of green 
 lightnings. A piece of steel flew up. My rapier 
 had snapped short at the hilt. A cold point was 
 at my throat pressing me down and back as the 
 foil had caught me that night in M. Picot s 
 house. To right, to left, I swerved, the last blind 
 rushes of the fugitive man. . . . 
 
 " Storm and cold man and beast powers 
 of darkness and devil he must fight them 
 all " 
 
 The memory of those words spurred like a 
 battle-cry. Beaten? Not yet! " Leap to meet 
 it! Leap to meet it!" 
 
 I caught the blade at my throat with a naked 
 hand. Hot floods drenched my face. The earth 
 swam. We were both in the light now, a bearded 
 man pushing his sword through my hand, and I 
 falling down. Then my antagonist leaped back 
 with a shivering cry of horror, flung the weapon 
 to the ground and fled into the dark. 
 
 And when I sat up my right hand held the 
 hilt of a broken rapier, the left was gashed across 
 the palm, and a sword as like my own as two 
 peas lay at my feet. 
 
 The fire was there. But I was alone. 
 112 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 VISITORS 
 
 THE fire had every appearance of a night biv 
 ouac, but there was remnant of neither camp 
 nor hunt. Somewhere on my left lay the river. 
 By that the way led back to M. Radisson s ren 
 dezvous. It was risky enough that threading 
 of the pathless woods through the pitchy dark; 
 but he who pauses to measure the risk at each 
 tread is ill fitted to pioneer wild lands. 
 
 Who the assassin was and why he had so 
 suddenly desisted, I knew no more than you do! 
 That he had attacked was natural enough; for 
 whoever took first possession of no-man s-land 
 in those days either murdered his rivals or sold 
 them to slavery. But why had he flung his 
 sword down at the moment of victory? 
 
 The pelting of the rain softened to a leafy 
 patter, the patter to a drip, and a watery moon 
 came glimmering through the clouds. With my 
 enemy s rapier in hand I began cutting a course 
 through the thicket. Radisson s fire no longer 
 "3 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 shone. Indeed, I became mighty uncertain which 
 direction to take, for the rush of the river 
 merged with the beating of the wind. The 
 ground sloped precipitously; and I was holding 
 back by the underbrush lest the bank led to 
 water when an indistinct sound, a smothery 
 murmur like the gurgle of a subterranean pool, 
 came from below. 
 
 The wind fell. The swirl of the flowing river 
 sounded far from the rear. I had become con 
 fused and was travelling away from the true 
 course. But what was that sound? 
 
 I threw a stick forward. It struck hard 
 stone. At the same instant was a sibilant, 
 human distinctly human " Hss-h," and the 
 sound had ceased. 
 
 That was no laving of inland pond against 
 pebbles. Make of it what you will there were 
 voices, smothered but talking. " No no no " 
 . . . then the warning . . . "Hush!" . . . 
 then the wind and the river and ..." No 
 no! " with words like oaths. . . . " No I say, 
 no! Having come so far, no! not if it were my 
 own brother!" . . . then the low "Hush!" 
 . . . and pleadings . . . then " Send Le 
 Borgne!" 
 
 And an Indian had rushed past me in the 
 dark with a pine fagot in his hand. 
 114 
 
VISITORS 
 
 Rising, I stole after him. Twas the fel 
 low who had been at the fire with that unknown 
 assailant. He paused over the smouldering em 
 bers, searching the ground, found the hilt of the 
 broken sword, lifted the severed blade, kicked 
 leaves over all traces of conflict, and extin 
 guishing the fire, carried off the broken weapon. 
 An Indian can pick his way over known ground 
 without a torch. What was this fellow doing 
 with a torch? Had he been sent for me? I drew 
 back in shadow to let him pass. Then I ran 
 with all speed to the river. 
 
 Gray dawn came over the trees as I reached 
 the swollen waters, and the sun was high in mid- 
 heaven when I came to the gravel patch where 
 M. de Radisson had camped. Round a sharp 
 bend in the river a strange sight unfolded. 
 
 A score of crested savages with painted bod 
 ies sat on the ground. In the centre, clad like a 
 king, with purple doublet and plumed hat and 
 velvet waistcoat ablaze with medals of honour 
 was M. Radisson. One hand deftly held his 
 scabbard forward so that the jewelled hilt shone 
 against the velvet, and the other was raised im 
 pressively above the savages. How had he made 
 the savages come to him? How are some men 
 born to draw all others as the sea draws the 
 streams? 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 The poor creatures had piled their robes at 
 his feet as offerings to a god. 
 
 " What did he give for the pelts, Godefroy? " 
 I asked. 
 
 " Words! " says Godefroy, with a grin, " gab 
 and a drop o rum diluted in a pot o water! " 
 
 " What is he saying to them now? " 
 
 Godefroy shrugged his shoulders. " That 
 the gods have sent him a messenger to them; 
 that the fire he brings " he was handing a 
 musket to the chief " will smite the Indians 
 enemy from the earth; that the bullet is magic 
 to outrace the fleetest runner " this as M. Ra- 
 disson fired a shot into mid-air that sent the In 
 dians into ecstasies of childish wonder " that 
 the bottle in his hands contains death, and if 
 the Indians bring their hunt to the white-man, 
 the white-man will never take the cork out ex 
 cept to let death fly at the Indians enemy " 
 he lifted a little phial of poison as he spoke 
 " that the Indian need never feel cold nor thirst, 
 now that the white-man has brought fire 
 water! " 
 
 At this came a harsh laugh from a taciturn 
 Indian standing on the outer rim of the crowd. 
 It was the fellow who had run through the forest 
 with the torch. 
 
 " Who is that, Godefroy? " 
 116 
 
VISITORS 
 
 " Le Borgne." 
 
 " Le Borgne need not laugh/ retorted M. 
 de Radisson sharply. " Le Borgne knows the 
 taste of fire-water! Le Borgne has been with 
 the white-man at the south, and knows what the 
 white-man says is true." 
 
 But Le Borgne only laughed the harder, 
 deep, guttural, contemptuous " huh huh s! " 
 a fitting rebuke, methought, for the ignoble 
 deception implied in M. Radisson s words. 
 
 Indeed, I would fain suppress this part of M. 
 Radisson s record, for he juggled with truth so 
 oft, when he thought the end justified the means, 
 he finally got a knack of juggling so much with 
 truth that the means would never justify any 
 end. I would fain repress the ignoble faults of 
 a noble leader, but I must even set down the 
 facts as they are, so you may see why a man 
 who was the greatest leader and trader and ex 
 plorer of his times reaped only an aftermath of 
 universal distrust. He lied his way through 
 thick and thin as we traders used to say till 
 that lying habit of his sewed him up in a net of 
 his own weaving like a grub in a cocoon. 
 
 Godefroy was giving a hand to bind up my 
 gashed palm when something grunted a " huff- 
 huff " beside us. Le Borgne was there with a 
 queer look on his inscrutable face. 
 117 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " Le Borgne, you rascal, you know who gave 
 me this," I began, taking careful scrutiny of the 
 Indian. 
 
 One eye was glazed and sightless, the other 
 yellow like a fox s; but the fellow was straight, 
 supple, and clean-timbered as a fresh-hewn mast. 
 With a " huh-huh," he gabbled back some an 
 swer. 
 
 " What does he say, Godefroy? " 
 
 " He says he doesn t understand the white- 
 man s tongue which is a lie," added Godefroy 
 of his own account. " Le Borgne was inter 
 preter for the Fur Company at the south of the 
 bay the year that M. Radisson left the English." 
 
 Were my assailants, then, Hudson s Bay 
 Company men come up from the south end of 
 James Bay? Certainly, the voice had spoken 
 English. I would have drawn Godefroy aside to 
 inform him of my adventure, but Le Borgne 
 stuck to us like a burr. Jean was busy helping 
 M. de Radisson at the trade, or what was called 
 " trade," when white men gave an awl for forty 
 beaver-skins. 
 
 " Godefroy," I said, " keep an eye on this In 
 dian till I speak to M. de Radisson." And I 
 turned to the group. Twas as pretty a bit of 
 colour as I have ever seen. The sea, like silver, 
 on one side; the autumn-tinted woods, brown 
 118 
 
VISITORS 
 
 and yellow and gold, on the other; M. de Radis- 
 son in his gay dress surrounded by a score of 
 savages with their faces and naked chests painted 
 a gaudy red, headgear of swans down, eagle 
 quills depending from their backs, and buckskin 
 trousers fringed with the scalp-locks of the 
 
 slain. 
 
 Drawing M. de Radisson aside, I gave him 
 hurried account of the night s adventures. 
 
 " Ha! " says he. " Not Hudson s Bay Com 
 pany men, or you would be in irons, lad! Not 
 French, for they spoke English. Pardieu ! 
 Poachers and thieves we shall see! Where is 
 that vagabond Cree? These people are south 
 ern Indians and know nothing of him. Gode 
 froy/ he called. 
 
 Godefroy came running up. " Le Borgne s 
 gone," said Godefroy breathlessly. 
 
 " Gone? " repeated Radisson. 
 
 " He left word for Master Stanhope from one 
 who wishes him well 
 
 " One who wishes him well," repeated M. 
 Radisson, looking askance at me. 
 
 " For Master Stanhope not to be bitten 
 twice by the same dog! " 
 
 Our amazement you may guess: M. de Ra 
 disson, suspicious of treachery and private trade 
 and piracy on my part; I as surprised to learn 
 119 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 that I had a well-wisher as I had been to dis 
 cover an unknown foe; and Godefroy, all cock- 
 a-whoop with his news, as is the way of the 
 vulgar. 
 
 " Ramsay," said M. Radisson, speaking very 
 low and tense, " as you hope to live and without 
 a lie, what does this mean? " 
 
 " Sir, as I hope to live I do not 
 know!" 
 
 He continued to search me with doubting 
 looks. I raised my wounded hand. 
 
 " Will you do me the honour to satisfy your 
 self that wound is genuine? " 
 
 "Pish!" says he. 
 
 He studied the ground. "There s nothing 
 impossible on this earth. Facts are hard dogs to 
 down. Jean," he called, "gather up the pelts! 
 It takes a man to trade well, but any fool can 
 make fools drink! Godefroy give the knaves 
 the rum but mind yourselves," he warned, 
 "three parts rain-water!" Then facing me, 
 "Take me to that bank!" 
 
 He followed without comment. 
 
 At the place of the camp-fire were marks of 
 the struggle. 
 
 "The same boot-prints as on the sand! A 
 small man," observed Radisson. 
 
 But when we came to the sloping bank, 
 120 
 
VISITORS 
 
 where the land fell sheer away to a dry, pebbly 
 reach, M. Radisson pulled a puzzled brow. 
 
 " They must have taken shelter from the 
 rain. They must have been under your feet." 
 
 " But where are their foot-marks? " I asked. 
 
 " Washed out by the rain," said he; but that 
 was one of the untruths with which a man who 
 is ever telling untruths sometimes deceives him 
 self; for if the bank sheltered the intruders from 
 the rain, it also sheltered their foot-marks, and 
 there was not a trace. 
 
 " All the same," said M. de Radisson, " we 
 shall make these Indians our friends by taking 
 them back to the fort with us." 
 
 " Ramsay," he remarked on the way, 
 " there s a game to play." 
 
 " So it seems." 
 
 " Hold yourself in," said he sententiously. 
 
 I walked on listening. 
 
 " One plays as your friend, the other as 
 your foe! Show neither friend nor foe your 
 hand! Let the game tell! Twas the reined-in 
 horse won King Charles s stakes at Newmarket 
 last year! Hold yourself in, I say!" 
 
 " In," I repeated, wondering at this homily. 
 
 " And hold yourself up," he continued. 
 That coxcomb of a marquis always trailing 
 his dignity in the dust of mid-road to worry with 
 
 121 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 a common dog like La Chesnaye pish! Hold 
 your self-respect in the chest of your jacket, 
 man! Tis the slouching nag that loses the 
 race! Hold yourself up! " 
 
 His words seemed hard sense plain spoken. 
 
 " And let your feet travel on," he added. 
 
 " In and up and on! " I repeated. 
 
 " In and up and on there s mettle for you, 
 lad!" 
 
 And with that terse text which, I think, 
 comprehended the whole of M. Radisson s phi 
 losophy we were back at the beach. 
 
 The Indians were not in such a state as I have 
 seen after many a trading bout. They were able 
 to accompany us. In embarking, M. Radisson 
 must needs observe all the ceremony of two 
 races. Such a whiffing of pipes among the state 
 ly, half-drunk Indian chiefs you never saw, with 
 a pompous proffering of the stem to the four 
 corners of the compass, which they thought 
 would propitiate the spirits. Jean blew a blast 
 on the trumpet. I waved the French flag. 
 Godefroy beat a rattling fusillade on the drum, 
 grabbed up his bobbing tipstaff, led the way; 
 and down we filed to the canoes. 
 
 At all this ostentation I could not but smile; 
 but no man ever had greater need of pomp to 
 hold his own against uneven odds than Radisson. 
 
 122 
 
VISITORS 
 
 As we were leaving came a noise that set us 
 all by the ears the dull booming reverberations 
 of heavy cannonading. 
 
 The Indians shook as with palsy. Jean Gro- 
 seillers cried out that his father s ships were in 
 peril. Godefroy implored the saints; but with 
 that lying facility which was his doom, M. de 
 Radisson blandly informed the savages that 
 more of his vessels had arrived from France. 
 
 Bidding Jean go on to the Habitation with 
 the Indians, he took the rest of us ashore with 
 one redskin as guide, to spy out the cause of the 
 firing. 
 
 " Twill be a pretty to-do if the English Fur 
 Company s ships arrive before we have a French 
 fort ready to welcome them," said he. 
 
 123 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THE CAUSE OF THE FIRING 
 
 THE landing was but a part of the labyrin 
 thine trickery in which our leader delighted to 
 play; for while Jean delayed the natives we ran 
 overland through the woods, launched our canoe 
 far ahead of the Indian flotilla, and went racing 
 forward to the throbs of the leaping river. 
 
 " If a man would win, he must run fast as the 
 hour-glass," observed M. Radisson, poising his 
 steering-pole. " And now, my brave lads," he 
 began, counting in quick, sharp words that rang 
 with command, "keep time one two three! 
 One two three!" And to each word the 
 paddles dipped with the speed of a fly-wheel s 
 spokes. 
 
 " One two three! In and up and on! 
 An you keep yourselves in hand, men, you can 
 win against the devil s own artillery! Speed 
 to your strokes, Godefroy," he urged. 
 
 And the canoe answered as a fine-strung 
 racer to the spur. Shore-lines blurred to a green 
 124 
 
THE CAUSE OF THE FIRING 
 
 streak. The frosty air met our faces in wind. 
 Gurgling waters curled from the prow in corru 
 gated runnels. And we were running a swift 
 race with a tumult of waves, mounting the swell, 
 dipping, rising buoyant, forward in bounds, with 
 a roar of the nearing rapids, and spray dashing 
 athwart in drifts. M. Radisson braced back. 
 The prow lifted, shot into mid-air, touched water 
 again, and went whirling through the mill-race 
 that boiled below a waterfall. Once the canoe 
 aimed straight as an arrow for rocks in mid- 
 current. M. Radisson s steel-shod pole flashed 
 in the sun. There was a quick thrust, answered 
 by Godefroy s counter-stroke at the stern; and 
 the canoe grazed past the rocks not a hair s- 
 breadth off. 
 
 " Sainte Anne ha mercy! " mumbled Gode- 
 froy, baling water from the canoe as we breasted 
 a turn in the river to calmer currents, " Sainte 
 Anne ha mercy! But the master d run us over 
 Niagara, if he had a mind." 
 
 " Or the River Styx, if twould gain his end," 
 sharply added Radisson. 
 
 But he ordered our paddles athwart for 
 snatched rest, while he himself kept alert at the 
 bow. With the rash presumption of youth, I of 
 fered to take the bow that he might rest: but 
 he threw his head back with a loud laugh, 
 125 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 more of scorn than mirth, and bade me nurse a 
 wounded hand. On the evening of the third 
 day we came to the Habitation. Without 
 disembarking, M. de Radisson sent the sol 
 diers on sentinel duty at the river front up 
 to the fort with warning to prepare for instant 
 siege. 
 
 " Twill put speed in the lazy rascals to finish 
 the fort," he remarked; and the canoe glided 
 out to mid-current again for the far expanse of 
 the bay. 
 
 By this we were all so used to M. Radisson s 
 doings, twould not have surprised us when the 
 craft shot out from river-mouth to open sea if 
 he had ordered us to circumnavigate the ocean 
 on a chip. 
 
 He did what was nigh as venturesome. 
 
 A quick, unwarned swerve of his pole, which 
 bare gave Godefroy time to take the cue, and 
 our prow went scouring across the scud of whip 
 ping currents where two rivers and an ocean- 
 tide met. The seething waves lashed to foam 
 with the long, low moan of the world-devouring 
 serpent which, legend says, is ever an-hungering 
 to devour voyageurs on life s sea. And for all 
 the world that reef of combing breakers was not 
 unlike a serpent type of malignant elements 
 bent on man s destruction! 
 126 
 
THE CAUSE OF THE FIRING 
 
 Then, to the amaze of us all, we had left the 
 lower river. The canoe was cutting up-stream 
 against a new current; and the moan of the 
 pounding surf receded to the rear. Clouds blew 
 inland, muffling the moon; and M. Radisson or 
 dered us ashore for the night. Feet at a smoul 
 dering fire too dull for an enemy to see and heads 
 pillowed on logs, we bivouacked with the frosty 
 ground for bed. 
 
 " Bad beds make good risers," was all M. 
 Radisson s comfort, when Godefroy grumbled 
 out some complaint. 
 
 A hard master, you say? A wise one, say I, 
 for the forces he fought in that desolate land 
 were as adamant. Only the man dauntless as 
 adamant could conquer. And you must remem 
 ber, while the diamond and the charcoal are of 
 the same family, tis the diamond has lustre, be 
 cause it is hard. Faults, M. Radisson had, which 
 were almost crimes; but look you who judge 
 him his faults were not the faults of nearly all 
 other men, the faults which are a crime the 
 crime of being ^veak! 
 
 The first thing our eyes lighted on when the 
 sun rose in flaming darts through the gray haze 
 of dawn was a half-built fort on an island in mid- 
 river. At the water side lay a queer-rigged brig- 
 antine, rocking to the swell of the tide. Here, 
 127 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 then, was cause of that firing heard across the 
 marsh on the lower river. 
 
 " Tis the pirate ship we saw on the high sea," 
 muttered Godefroy, rubbing his eyes. 
 
 " She flies no flag! She has no license to 
 trade! She s a poacher! She will make a prize 
 worth the taking," added M. Radisson sharply. 
 Then, as if to justify that intent " As we have 
 no license, we must either take or be taken! " 
 
 The river mist gradually lifted, and there 
 emerged from the fog a stockaded fort with two 
 bastions facing the river and guns protruding 
 from loopholes. 
 
 " Not so easy to take that fort," growled 
 Godefroy, who was ever a hanger-back. 
 
 " All the better," retorted M. de Radisson. 
 " Easy taking makes soft men! Twill test your 
 mettle!" 
 
 " Test our mettle! " sulked the trader, a key 
 higher in his obstinacy. " All very well to talk, 
 sir, but how can we take a fort mounted with 
 twenty cannon " 
 
 " I ll tell you the how when it s done," inter 
 rupted M. de Radisson. 
 
 But Godefroy was one of those obstinates 
 who would be silent only when stunned. 
 
 " I d like to know, sir, what we re to do," he 
 began. 
 
 128 
 
THE CAUSE OF THE FIRING 
 
 " Godefroy, twould be waste time to knock 
 sense in your pate! There is only one thing to 
 do always only one, the right thing! Do it, 
 fool! An I hear more clack from you till its 
 done, I ll have your tongue out with the nip 
 pers!" 
 
 Godefroy cowered sulkily back, and M. de 
 Radisson laughed. 
 
 "That will quell him," said he. " When 
 Godefroy s tongue is out he can t grumble, and 
 grumbling is his bread of life! " 
 
 Stripping off his bright doublet, M. Radisson 
 hung it from a tree to attract the fort s notice. 
 Then he posted us in ambuscade with orders to 
 capture whatever came. 
 
 But nothing came. 
 
 And when the fort guns boomed out the 
 noon hour M. Radisson sprang up all impa 
 tience. 
 
 " I ll wait no man s time," he vowed. " Los 
 ing time is losing the game! Launch out! " 
 
 Chittering something about our throats be 
 ing cut, Godefroy shrank back. With a quick 
 stride M. Radisson was towering above him. 
 Catching Godefroy by the scruff of the neck, he 
 threw him face down into the canoe, muttering 
 out it would be small loss if all the cowards in the 
 world had their throats cut. 
 129 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " The pirates come to trade," he explained. 
 " They will not fire at Indians. Bind your hair 
 back like that Indian there! " 
 
 No sooner were we in the range of the fort 
 than M. Radisson uttered the shrill call of a na 
 tive, bade our Indian stand up, and himself en 
 acted the pantomime of a savage, waving his 
 arms, whistling, and hallooing. With cries of 
 welcome, the fort people ran to the shore and 
 left their guns unmanned. Reading from a syl 
 lable book, they shouted out Indian words. It 
 was safe to approach. Before they could arm 
 we could escape. But we were two men, one 
 lad, and a neutral Indian against an armed 
 garrison in a land where killing was no 
 murder. 
 
 M. de Radisson stood up and called in the 
 Indian tongue. They did not understand. 
 
 " New to it," commented Radisson, " not 
 the Hudson s Bay Company! " 
 
 All the while he was imperceptibly approach 
 ing nearer. He shouted in French. They shook 
 their heads. 
 
 " English highwaymen, blundered in here by 
 chance," said he. 
 
 Tearing off the Indian head-band of dis 
 guise, he demanded in mighty peremptory tones 
 who they were. 
 
 130 
 
THE CAUSE OF THE FIRING 
 
 " English," they called back doubtfully. 
 
 " What have you come for? " insisted Radis- 
 son, with a great swelling of his chest. 
 
 " The beaver trade," came a faint voice. 
 
 Where had I heard it before? Did it rise 
 from the ground in the woods, or from a far 
 memory of children throwing a bully into the 
 sea? 
 
 " I demand to see your license," boldly chal 
 lenged Radisson. 
 
 At that the fellows ashore put their heads 
 together. 
 
 " In the name of the king, I demand to see 
 your license instantly," repeated Sieur de Radis 
 son, with louder authority. 
 
 " We have no license," explained one of the 
 men, who was dressed with slashed boots, red 
 doublet, and cocked hat. 
 
 M. Radisson smiled and poled a length 
 closer. 
 
 " A ship without a license! A prize for the 
 taking! If the rascals complain the galleys for 
 life!" and he laughed softly. 
 
 " This coast is possessed by the King of 
 France," he shouted. " We have a strong garri 
 son! We mistook your firing for more French 
 ships! " Shaping his hands trumpet fashion to 
 his mouth, he called this out again, adding that 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 our Indian was of a nation in league with the 
 French. 
 
 The pirates were dumb as if he had tossed a 
 hand grenade among them. 
 
 " The ship is ours now, lads," said Radisson 
 softly, poling nearer. " See, lads, the bottom 
 has tumbled from their courage! We ll not 
 waste a pound o* powder in capturing that 
 prize! " He turned suddenly to me " As I live 
 by bread, tis that bragging young dandy-prat 
 hop-o -my-thumb Ben Gillam of Boston 
 Town!" 
 
 "Ben Gillam!" 
 
 I was thinking of my assailant in the woods. 
 " Ben was tall. The pirate, who came carving at 
 me, was small." 
 
 But Ben Gillam it was, turned pirate or pri-* 
 vateer as you choose to call it grown to a 
 well-timbered rapscallion with head high in air, 
 jack-boots half-way to his waist, a clanking 
 sword at heel, and a nose too red from rum. 
 
 As we landed, he sent his men scattering to 
 the fort, and stood twirling his mustaches till 
 the recognition struck him. 
 
 " By Jericho Radisson! " he gasped. 
 
 Then he tossed his chin defiantly in air like 
 an unbroken colt disposed to try odds with a 
 master. 
 
 132 
 
THE CAUSE OF THE FIRING 
 
 " Don t be afraid to land," he called down 
 out of sheer impudence. 
 
 " Don t be afraid to have us land," Radisson 
 shouted up to him. " We ll not harm you! " 
 
 Ben swore a big oath, fleered a laugh, and 
 kicked the sand with his heels. Raising a hand, 
 he signalled the watchers on the ship. 
 
 " Sorry to welcome you in this warlike fash 
 ion," said he. 
 
 " Glad to welcome you to the domain of His 
 Most Christian Majesty, the King of France," 
 retorted Radisson, leaping ashore. 
 
 Ben blinked to catch the drift of that. 
 " Devil take their majesties! " he ejaculated. 
 " He s king who conquers! " 
 
 " No need to talk of conquering when one is 
 master already," corrected M. de Radisson. 
 
 " Shiver my soul," blurts out Ben, " I haven t 
 a tongue like an eel, but that s what I mean; 
 and I m king here, and welcome to you, Ra 
 disson! " 
 
 " And that s what I mean," laughed M. Ra 
 disson, with a bow, quietly motioning us to fol 
 low ashore. " No need to conquer where one is 
 master, and welcome to you, Captain Gillam! " 
 
 And they embraced each other like spider 
 and fly, each with a free hand to his sword-hilt, 
 and a questioning look on the other s face. 
 133 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 Says M. Radisson: " I ve seen that ship be 
 fore!" 
 
 Ben laughs awkwardly. " We captured her 
 from a Dutchman," he begins. 
 
 " Oh! " says Sieur Radisson. " I meant out 
 side the straits after the storm! " 
 
 Gillam s eyes widen. " Were those your 
 ships? " he asks. Then both men laugh. 
 
 " Not much to boast in the way of a fleet/ 
 taunts Ben. 
 
 " Those are the two smallest we have," 
 quickly explains Radisson. 
 
 Gillam s face went blank, and M. Radisson s 
 eyes closed to the watchful slit of a cat mouse- 
 hunting. 
 
 " Come! Come! " exclaims Ben, with a sud 
 den flare of friendliness, " I am no baby-eater! 
 Put a peg in that! Shiver my soul if this is a 
 way to welcome friends! Come aboard all of 
 you and test the Canary we got in the hold of a 
 fine Spanish galleon last week ! Such a top-heavy 
 ship, with sails like a tinker s tatters, you never 
 saw! And her hold running over with Canary 
 and Madeira oh ! Come aboard ! Come 
 aboard! " he urged. 
 
 It was Pierre Radisson s turn to blink. 
 
 " And drink to the success of the beaver 
 trade," importunes Ben. 
 134 
 
THE CAUSE OF THE FIRING 
 
 Twas as pretty a piece of play as you could 
 see: Ben, scheming to get the Frenchman cap 
 tive; M. Radisson, with the lightnings under his 
 brows and that dare-devil rashness of his blood 
 tempting him to spy out the lad s strength. 
 
 " Ben was the body of the venture! Where 
 was the brain? It was that took me aboard his 
 ship," M. Radisson afterward confessed to us. 
 
 " Come ! Come ! " pressed Gillam. " I 
 know young Stanhope there " his mighty air 
 brought the laugh to my face young Stan 
 hope there has a taste for fine Canary " 
 
 " But, lad," protested Radisson, with a con 
 descension that was vinegar to Ben s vanity, 
 " we cannot be debtors altogether. Let two of 
 your men stay here and whiff pipes with my fel 
 lows, while I go aboard! " 
 
 Ben s teeth ground out an assent that sound 
 ed precious like an oath; for he knew that he 
 was being asked for hostages of safe-conduct 
 while M. Radisson spied out the ship. He sig 
 nalled, as we thought, for two hostages to come 
 down from the fort; but scarce had he dropped 
 his hand when fort and ship let out such a roar 
 of cannonading as would have lifted the hair 
 from any other head than Pierre Radisson s. 
 
 Godefroy cut a caper. The Indian s eyes 
 bulged with terror, and my own pulse went a- 
 135 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 hop; but M. Radisson never changed counte 
 nance. 
 
 " Pardieu," says he softly, with a pleased 
 smile as the last shot went skipping over the wa 
 ter, " you re devilish fond o fireworks, to waste 
 good powder so far from home! " 
 
 Ben mumbled out that he had plenty of pow 
 der, and that some fools didn t know fireworks 
 from war. 
 
 M. Radisson said he was glad there was 
 plenty of powder, there would doubtless be use 
 found for it, and he knew fools oft mistook fire 
 works for war. 
 
 With that a cannon-shot sent the sand spat 
 tering to our boots and filled the air with pow 
 der-dust; but when the smoke cleared, M. Radis 
 son had quietly put himself between Ben and 
 the fort. 
 
 Drawing out his sword, the Frenchman ran 
 his finger up the edge. 
 
 " Sharp as the next," said he. 
 
 Lowering the point, he scratched a line on 
 the sand between the mark of the last shot 
 and us. 
 
 " How close can your gunners hit, Ben? " 
 asked Radisson. " Now I ll wager you a bottle 
 of Madeira they can t hit that line without hit 
 ting you! " 
 
 136 
 
THE CAUSE OF THE FIRING 
 
 Ben s hand went up quick enough. The 
 gunners ceased firing and M. Radisson sheathed 
 his sword with a laugh. 
 
 " You ll not take the odds? Take advice in 
 stead! Take a man s advice, and never waste 
 powder! You ll need it all if he s king who con 
 quers! Besides," he added, turning suddenly 
 serious, " if my forces learn you are here I ll not 
 promise I ve strength to restrain them! " 
 
 " How many have you? " blurted Ben. 
 
 " Plenty to spare! Now, if you are afraid of 
 the Hudson s Bay Company ships attacking you, 
 I d be glad to loan you enough young fire-eaters 
 to garrison the fort here! " 
 
 " Thanks," says Ben, twirling his mustaches 
 till they were nigh jerked out, " but how long 
 would they stay? " 
 
 " Till you sent them away," says M. de 
 Radisson, with the lights at play under his 
 brows. 
 
 " Hang me if I know how long that would 
 be," laughed Gillam, half-puzzled, half-pleased 
 with the Frenchman s darting wits. 
 
 " Ben," begins M. Radisson, tapping the lace 
 ruffle of Gillam s sleeve, " you must not fire 
 those guns! " 
 
 " No? " questions Gillam. 
 
 " My officers are swashing young blades! 
 137 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 What with the marines and the common soldiers 
 and my own guard, tis all I can manage to keep 
 the rascals in hand! They must not know you 
 are here! " 
 
 Gillam muttered something of a treaty of 
 truce for the winter. 
 
 M. Radisson shook his head. 
 
 " I have scarce the support to do as I will," 
 he protests. 
 
 Young Gillam swore such coolness was 
 scurvy treatment for an old friend. 
 
 " Old friend," laughed Radisson afterward. 
 " Did the cub s hangdog of a father not offer a 
 thousand pounds for my head on the end of a 
 pikestaff? " 
 
 But with Ben he played the game out. 
 
 " The season is too far advanced for you to 
 escape" says he with soft emphasis. 
 
 " Tis why I want a treaty," answers the 
 sailor. 
 
 " Come, then," laughs the Frenchman, " now 
 as to terms " 
 
 " Name them," says Gillam. 
 
 " If you don t wish to be discovered " 
 
 " I don t wish to be discovered! " 
 
 " If you don t wish to be discovered don t 
 run up a flag! " 
 
 " One," says Gillam. 
 138 
 
THE CAUSE OF THE FIRING 
 
 " If you don t wish to be discovered, don t let 
 your people leave the island! " 
 
 " They haven t," says Gillam. 
 
 " What? " asks M. Radisson, glancing sharp 
 ly at me; for we were both thinking of that night 
 attack. 
 
 " They haven t left the island," repeats Gil- 
 lam. 
 
 " Ten lies are as cheap as two," says Radisson 
 to us. Then to Gillam, " Don t let your people 
 leave the island, or they ll meet my forces." 
 
 " Two," says Gillam. 
 
 " If you don t wish the Fur Company to dis 
 cover you, don t fire guns! " 
 
 " Three," says Gillam. 
 
 " That is to keep em from connecting with 
 those inlanders," whispered Godefroy, who knew 
 the plays of his master s game better than I. 
 " We can beat em single; but if Ben joins the 
 inlanders and the Fur Company against us " 
 Godefroy completed his prophecy with an omi 
 nous shake of the head. 
 
 " My men shall not know you are here," M. 
 Radisson was promising. 
 
 " One," counts Gillam. 
 
 " I ll join with you against the English 
 ships!" 
 
 Young Gillam laughed derisively. 
 139 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " My father commands the Hudson s Bay 
 ship," says he. 
 
 "Egad, yes!" retorts M. Radisson noncha 
 lantly, " but your father doesn t command the 
 governor of the Fur Company, who sailed out 
 in his ship." 
 
 " The governor does not know that I am 
 here," flouts Ben. 
 
 " But he would know if I told him," adds M. 
 de Radisson, " and if I told him the Company s 
 captain owned half the ship poaching on the 
 Company s preserve, the Company s captain and 
 the captain s son might go hang for all the furs 
 they d get! By the Lord, youngster, I rather 
 suspect both the captain and the captain s son 
 would be whipped and hanged for the theft! " 
 
 Ben gave a start and looked hard at Radis 
 son. Twas the first time, I think, the cub real 
 ized that the pawn in so soft-spoken a game 
 was his own neck. 
 
 " Go on," he said, with haste and fear in his 
 look. " I promised three terms. You will keep 
 your people from knowing I am here and join 
 me against the English go on! What next? " 
 
 " I ll defend you against the Indians," coolly 
 capped M. Radisson. 
 
 Godefroy whispered in my ear that he would 
 not give a pin s purchase for all the furs the New 
 140 
 
THE CAUSE OF THE FIRING 
 
 Englander would get; and Ben Gillam looked 
 like a man whose shoe pinches. He hung his 
 head hesitating. 
 
 " But if you run up a flag, or fire a gun, or 
 let your people leave the island," warned M. Ra- 
 disson, " I may let my men come, or tell the Eng 
 lish, or join the Indians against you." 
 
 Gillam put out his hand. 
 
 " It s a treaty," said he. 
 
 There and then he would have been glad to 
 see the last of us; but M. Radisson was not the 
 man to miss the chance of seeing a rival s ship. 
 
 " How about that Canary taken from the for 
 eign ship? A galleon, did you say, tall and slim? 
 Did you sink her or sell her? Send down your 
 men to my fellows! Let us go aboard for the 
 story." 
 
 141 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 MORE OF M. RADISSON S RIVALS 
 
 So Ben Gillam must take M. Radisson 
 aboard the Susan, or Gargon, as she was called 
 when she sailed different colours, the young fel 
 low with a wry face, the Frenchman, all gaiety. 
 As the two leaders mounted the companion-lad 
 der, hostages came towards the beach to join us. 
 I had scarce noticed them when one tugged at 
 my sleeve, and I turned to look full in the faith 
 ful shy face of little Jack Battle. 
 
 "Jack! " I shouted, but he only wrung and 
 wrung and wrung at my hand, emitting little 
 gurgling laughs. 
 
 Then we linked arms and walked along the 
 beach, where others could not hear. 
 
 " Where did you come from? " I demanded. 
 
 " Master Ben fished me up on the Grand 
 Banks. I was with the fleet. It was after he 
 met you off the straits; and here I be, Ram 
 say." 
 
 " After he met us off the straits." I was try- 
 142 
 
MORE OF M. RADISSON S RIVALS 
 
 ing to piece some connection between Gillam s 
 ship and the inland assailants. "Jack, tell me! 
 How many days have you been here? " 
 
 " Three," says Jack. " Split me fore and aft 
 if we ve been a day more! " 
 
 It was four since that night in the bush. 
 
 " You could not build a fort in three 
 days!" 
 
 " Twas half-built when we came." 
 
 " Who did that? Is Captain Gillam stealing 
 the Company s furs for Ben?" 
 
 " No-o-o," drawled Jack thoughtfully, " it 
 aren t that. It are something else, I can t 
 make out. Master Ben keeps firing and firing 
 and firing his guns expecting some one to an 
 swer." 
 
 " The Indians with the pelts," I suggested. 
 
 " No-o-o," answered Jack. " Split me fore 
 and aft if it s Indians he wants! He could 
 send up river for them. It s some one as came 
 from his father s ship outside Boston when Mas 
 ter Ben sailed for the north and Captain Gillam 
 was agoing home to England with Mistress 
 Hortense in his ship. When no answer comes to 
 our firing, Master Ben takes to climbing the 
 masthead and yelling like a fog-horn and drop 
 ping curses like hail and swearing he ll shoot 
 him as fails to keep appointment as he d shoot a 
 143 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 dog, if he has to track him inland a thousand 
 leagues. Split me fore and aft if he don t! " 
 
 " Who shoot what? " I demanded, trying to 
 extract some meaning from the jumbled narra 
 tive. 
 
 " That s what I don t know," says Jack. 
 
 I fetched a sigh of despair. 
 
 " What s the matter with your hand? Does 
 it hurt? " he asked quickly. 
 
 Poor Jack! I looked into his faithful blue 
 eyes. There was not a shadow of deception 
 there only the affection that gives without 
 wishing to comprehend. Should I tell him of the 
 adventure? But a loud halloo from Godefroy 
 notified me that M. de Radisson was on the 
 beach ready to launch. 
 
 " Almost waste work to go on fortifying," 
 he was warning Ben. 
 
 " You forget the danger from your own 
 crews," pleaded young Gillam. 
 
 " Pardieu! We can easily arrange that. I 
 promise you never to approach with more than 
 thirty of a guard." (We were twenty-nine all 
 told.) " But remember, don t hoist a flag, don t 
 fire, don t let your people leave the island." 
 
 Then we launched out, and I heard Ben 
 muttering under his breath that he was cursed 
 if he had ever known such impudence. In mid- 
 144 
 
MORE OF M. RADISSON S RIVALS 
 
 current our leader laid his pole crosswise and 
 laughed long. 
 
 " Tis a pretty prize. Twill fetch the price 
 of a thousand beaver-skins! Captain Gillam 
 reckoned short when he furnished young Ben to 
 defraud the Company. He would give a thou 
 sand pounds for my head would he? Pardieu! 
 He shall give five thousand pounds and leave my 
 head where it is! And egad, if he behaves too 
 badly, he shall pay hush-money, or the governor 
 shall know! When we ve taken him, lads, who 
 think you dare complain? " And he laughed 
 again; but at a bend in the river he turned sud 
 denly with his eyes snapping " Who a deuce 
 could that have been playing pranks in the 
 woods the other night? Mark my words, Stan 
 hope, whoever twas will prove the brains and 
 the mainspring and the driving-wheel and the 
 rudder of this cub s venture! " 
 
 And he began to dip in quick vigorous 
 strokes like the thoughts ferreting through his 
 brain. We had made bare a dozen miles when 
 paddles clapped athwart as if petrified. 
 
 Up the wide river, like a great white bird, 
 came a stately ship. It was the Prince Rupert 
 of the Hudson s Bay Company, which claimed 
 sole right to trade in all that north land. 
 
 Young Gillam, with guns mounted, to the 
 145 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 rear! A hostile ship, with fighting men and ord 
 nance, to the fore! An unknown enemy inland! 
 And for our leader a man on whose head Eng 
 land and New England set a price! 
 
 Do you wonder that our hearts stopped al 
 most as suddenly as the paddles? But it was 
 not fear that gave pause to M. Radisson. 
 
 " If those ships get together, the game is 
 lost/ says he hurriedly. " May the devil fly 
 away with us, if we haven t wit to stop that 
 ship!" 
 
 Act jumping with thought, he shot the canoe 
 under cover of the wooded shore. In a twink 
 ling we had such a fire roaring as the natives 
 use for signals. Between the fire and the river 
 he stationed our Indian, as hunters place a decoy. 
 
 The ruse succeeded. 
 
 Lowering sail, the Prince Rupert cast anchor 
 opposite our fire; but darkness had gathered, 
 and the English sent no boat ashore till morn 
 ing. 
 
 Posting us against the woods, M. Radisson 
 went forward alone to meet the company of sol 
 diers rowing ashore. The man standing amid 
 ships, Godefroy said, was Captain Gillam, Ben s 
 father; but the gentleman with gold-laced doub 
 let and ruffled sleeves sitting back in the sheets 
 was Governor Brigdar, of the Hudson s Bay 
 146 
 
MORE OF M. RADISSON S RIVALS 
 
 Fur Company, a courtier of Prince Rupert s 
 choice. 
 
 The clumsy boat grounded in the shallows, 
 and a soldier got both feet in the water to wade. 
 Instantly M. Radisson roared out such a sten 
 torian " Halt! " you would have thought that he 
 had an army at his back. Indeed, that is what 
 the party thought, for the fellow got his feet 
 back in the boat monstrous quick. And there 
 was a vast bandying of words, each asking 
 other who they were, and bidding each other 
 in no very polite terms to mind their own 
 affairs. 
 
 Of a sudden M. Radisson wheeled to us 
 standing guard. 
 
 "Officers," he shouted, "first brigade! 
 forward!" 
 
 From the manner of him we might have had 
 an army under cover behind that bush. 
 
 All at once Governor Brigdar s lace handker 
 chief was aflutter at the end of a sword, and the 
 representative of King Charles begged leave to 
 land and salute the representative of His Most 
 Christian Majesty, the King of France. 
 
 And land they did, pompously peaceful, 
 though their swords clanked so oft every man 
 must have had a hand ready at his baldrick, 
 Pierre Radisson receiving them with the lofty 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 air of a gracious monarch, the others bowing 
 and unhatting and bending and crooking their 
 spines supple as courtiers with a king. 
 
 Presently came the soldiers back to us as 
 hostages, while Radisson stepped into the boat 
 to go aboard the Prince Rupert with the captain 
 and governor. Godefroy called out against 
 such rashness, and Pierre Radisson shouted back 
 that threat about the nippers pulling the end off 
 the fellow s tongue. 
 
 Serving under the French flag, I was not 
 supposed to know English; but when one soldier 
 said he had seen " Mr. What-d y-call- im before/ 
 pointing at me, I recognised the mate from 
 whom I had hired passage to England for M. 
 -Picot on Captain Gillam s ship. 
 
 " Like enough," says the other, " tis a land 
 where no man brings his back history." 
 
 " See here, fellow," said I, whipping out a 
 crown, " here s for you to tell me of the New 
 Amsterdam gentleman who sailed from Boston 
 last spring! " 
 
 " No New Amsterdam gentleman sailed from 
 Boston," answered both in one breath. 
 
 " I am not paying for lies," and I returned 
 the crown to my pocket. 
 
 Then Radisson came back, urging Captain 
 against proceeding up the river. 
 148 
 
MORE OF M. RADISSON S RIVALS 
 
 " The Prince Rupert might ground on the 
 shallows," he warned. 
 
 " That will keep them apart till we trap one 
 or both," he told us, as we set off in our canoe. 
 
 But we had not gone out of range before we 
 were ordered ashore. Picking our way back 
 overland, we spied through the bush for two 
 days, till we saw that Governor Brigdar was 
 taking Radisson s advice, going no farther up 
 stream, but erecting a fort on the shore where 
 he had anchored. 
 
 " And now," said Radisson, " we must act." 
 
 While we were spying through the woods, 
 watching the English build their fort, I thought 
 that I saw a figure flitting through the bush to 
 the rear. I dared not fire. One shot would have 
 betrayed us to the English. But I pointed my 
 gun. The thing came gliding noiselessly nearer. 
 I clicked the gun-butt without firing. The thing 
 paused. Then I called M. Radisson, who said it 
 was Le Borgne, the wall-eyed Indian. Godefroy 
 vowed twas a spy from Ben Gillam s fort. The 
 Indian mumbled some superstition of a manitou. 
 To me it seemed like a caribou ; for it faded to 
 nothing the way those fleet creatures have of 
 skimming into distance. 
 
 149 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 M. RADISSON BEGINS THE GAME 
 
 M. RADISSON had reckoned well. His warn 
 ing to prepare for instant siege set all the young 
 fire-eaters of our Habitation working like bea 
 vers to complete the French fort. The marquis 
 took a hand at squaring timbers shoulder to 
 shoulder with Allemand, the pilot; and La Ches- 
 naye, the merchant prince, forgot to strut while 
 digging up earthworks for a parapet. The 
 leaven of the New World was working. Hon 
 our was for him only whose brawn won the 
 place; and our young fellows of the birth and 
 the pride were keenest to gird for the task. 
 
 On our return from the upper river to the 
 fort, the palisaded walls were finished, guns were 
 mounted on all bastions, the two ships beached 
 under shelter of cannon, sentinels on parade at 
 the main gate, and a long barracks built mid 
 way across the courtyard. 
 
 Here we passed many a merry hour of a long 
 winter night, the green timbers cracking like 
 150 
 
M. RADISSON BEGINS THE GAME 
 
 pistol-shots to the tightening frost-grip, and the 
 hearth logs at each end of the long, low-raftered 
 hall sending up a roar that set the red shadows 
 dancing among ceiling joists. After ward-room 
 mess, with fare that kings might have envied 
 teal and partridge and venison and a steak of 
 beaver s tail, and moose nose as an entree, with 
 a tidbit of buffalo hump that melted in your 
 mouth like flakes the commonalty, as La 
 Chesnaye designated those who sat below the 
 salt, would draw off to the far hearth. Here 
 the sailors gathered close, spinning yarns, crack 
 ing jokes, popping corn, and toasting wits, 
 a-merrier far that your kitchen cuddies of older 
 lands. At the other hearth sat M. de Radisson, 
 feet spread to the fire, a long pipe between his 
 lips, and an audience of young blades eager for 
 his tales. 
 
 " D ye mind how we got away from the Iro- 
 quois, Chouart? " Radisson asks Groseillers, 
 who sits in a chair rough-hewn from a stump 
 on the other side of the fire. 
 
 Chouart Groseillers smiles quietly and 
 strokes his black beard. Jean stretches across 
 a bear-skin on the floor and shouts out, " Tell 
 us! Tell us!" 
 
 " We had been captives six months. The 
 Iroquois were beginning to let us wander about 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 alone. Chouart there had sewed his thumb up, 
 where an old squaw had hacked at it with a dull 
 shell. The padre s nails, which the Indians tore 
 off in torture, had grown well enough for him 
 to handle a gun. One day we were allowed out 
 to hunt. Chouart brought down three deer, the 
 padre two moose, and I a couple of bear. That 
 night the warriors came back from a raid on 
 Orange with not a thing to eat but one miser 
 able, little, thin, squealing pig. Pardieu! men, 
 twas our chance; and the chance is always hid 
 ing round a corner for the man who goes 
 ahead." 
 
 Radisson paused to whiff his pipe, all the 
 lights in his eyes laughing and his mouth ex 
 pressionless as steel. 
 
 ( Tis an insult among Iroquois to leave food 
 at a feast. There were we with food enough to 
 stuff the tribe torpid as winter toads. The padre 
 was sent round to the lodges with a tom-tom 
 to beat every soul to the feast. Chouart and a 
 Dutch prisoner and I cooked like kings scul 
 lions for four mortal hours! " 
 
 "We wanted to delay the feast till mid 
 night," explains Groseillers. 
 
 " And at midnight in trooped every man, 
 woman, and brat of the encampment. The 
 padre takes a tom-tom and stands at one end 
 152 
 
M. RADISSON BEGINS THE GAME 
 
 of the lodge beating a very knave of a rub-a-dub 
 and shouting at the top of his voice: Eat, 
 brothers, eat! Bulge the eye, swell the coat, 
 loose the belt! Eat, brothers, eat! Chouart 
 stands at the boiler ladling out joints faster than 
 an army could gobble. Within an hour every 
 brat lay stretched and the women were snoring 
 asleep where they crouched. From the war 
 riors, here a grunt, there a groan! But Chouart 
 keeps ladling out the meat. Then the Dutch 
 man grabs up a drum at the other end of the 
 lodge, and begins to beat and yell: Stuff, brud- 
 ders, stuff! Vat de gut zperets zend, gast not 
 out! Eat, braves, eat! And the padre cuts the 
 capers of a fiend on coals. Still the warriors eat! 
 Still the drums beat! Still the meat is heaped! 
 Then, one brave bowls over asleep with his head 
 on his knees! Another warrior tumbles back! 
 Guards sit bolt upright sound asleep as a 
 stone!" 
 
 " What did you put in the meat, Pierre? " 
 asked Groseillers absently. 
 
 Radisson laughed. 
 
 " Do you mind, Chouart," he asked, " how 
 the padre wanted to put poison in the meat, 
 and the Dutchman wouldn t let him? Then the 
 Dutchman wanted to murder them all in their 
 sleep, and the padre wouldn t let him? " 
 
 153 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 Both men laughed. 
 
 " And the end? " asked Jean. 
 
 " We tied the squealing pig at the door for 
 sentinel, broke ice with our muskets, launched 
 the canoe, and never stopped paddling till we 
 reached Three Rivers." * 
 
 At that comes a loud sally of laughter from 
 the sailors at the far end of the hall. Godefroy, 
 the English trader, is singing a rhyme of All 
 Souls Day, and Allemand, the French pilot, 
 protests. 
 
 " Soul ! Soul ! For a soul-cake ! 
 One for Peter, two for Paul, 
 Three for ." 
 
 But La Chesnaye shouts out for the knaves 
 to hold quiet. Godefroy bobs his tipstaff, and 
 bawls on: 
 
 " Soul ! Soul ! For an apple or two ! 
 If you ve got no apples, nuts will do ! 
 Out with your raisins, down with your gin ! 
 Give me plenty and I ll begin." 
 
 M. Radisson looks down the hall and laughs. 
 " By the saints," says he softly, " a man loses 
 the Christian calendar in this land! Tis All 
 Souls Night! Give the men a treat, La Ches 
 naye." 
 
 * See Radisson s own account. 
 154 
 
M. RADISSON BEGINS THE GAME 
 
 But La Chesnaye, being governor, must 
 needs show his authority, and vows to flog the 
 knave for impudence. Turning over benches 
 in his haste, the merchant falls on Godefroy 
 with such largesse of cuffs that the fellow is 
 glad to keep peace. 
 
 The door blows open, and with a gust of 
 wind a silent figure blows in. Tis Le Borgne, 
 the one-eyed, who has taken to joining our men 
 of a merry night, which M. de Radisson encour 
 ages; for he would have all the Indians come 
 freely. 
 
 " Ha! " says Radisson, " I thought twas the 
 men I sent to spy if the marsh were safe cross 
 ing. Give Le Borgne tobacco, La Chesnaye. 
 If once the fellow gets drunk," he adds to me 
 in an undertone, " that silent tongue of his may 
 wag on the interlopers. We must be stirring, 
 stirring, Ramsay! Ten days past! Egad, a man 
 might as well be a fish-worm burrowing under 
 ground as such a snail! We must stir stir! 
 See here " drawing me to the table apart from 
 the others "here, we are on the lower river," 
 and he marked the letter X on a line indicating 
 the flow of our river to the bay. " Here is the 
 upper river," and he drew another river meeting 
 ours at a sharp angle. " Here is Governor Brig- 
 dar of the Hudson s Bay Company," marking 
 11 55 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 another X on the upper river. " Here is Ben 
 Gillam! We are half-way between them on the 
 south. I sent two men to see if the marsh be- 
 \ween the rivers is fit crossing." 
 
 Bay 
 
 " Fit crossing? " 
 
 " When tis safe, we might plan a surprise. 
 The only doubt is how many of those pirates are 
 there who attacked you in the woods? " 
 
 And he sat back whiffing his pipe and gaz 
 ing in space. By this, La Chesnaye had distrib 
 uted so generous a treat that half the sailors 
 were roaring out hilarious mirth. Godefroy 
 astride a bench played big drum on the wrong- 
 end-up of the cook s dish-pan. Allemand at 
 tempted to fiddle a poker across the tongs. 
 Voyageurs tried to shoot the big canoe over 
 a waterfall; for when Jean tilted one end of the 
 
M. RADISSON BEGINS THE GAME 
 
 long bench, they landed as cleanly on the floor 
 as if their craft had plunged. But the copper- 
 faced Le Borgne remained taciturn and tongue- 
 tied. 
 
 " Be curse to that wall-eyed knave," mut 
 tered Radisson. " He s too deep a man to let 
 go! We must capture him or win him!" 
 
 " Perhaps when he becomes more friendly 
 we may track him back to the inlanders," I sug 
 gested. 
 
 M. de Radisson closed one eye and looked 
 at me attentively. 
 
 " La Chesnaye," he called, " treat that fel 
 low like a king! " 
 
 And the rafters rang so loud with the merri 
 ment that we none of us noticed the door flung 
 open, nor saw two figures stamping off the snow 
 till they had thrown a third man bound at M. de 
 Radisson s feet. The messengers sent to spy 
 out the marsh had returned with a half-frozen 
 prisoner. 
 
 " We found him where the ice is soft. He 
 was half dead," explained one scout. 
 
 Silence fell. Through the half-dark the In 
 dian glided towards the door. The unconscious 
 prisoner lay face down. 
 
 Turn him over," ordered Radisson. 
 
 As our men rolled him roughly over, the 
 157 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 captive uttered a heavy groan. His arms fell 
 away from his face revealing little Jack Battle, 
 the castaway, in a haven as strange as of old. 
 
 " Search him before he wakes," commanded 
 Radisson roughly. 
 
 " Let me," I asked. 
 
 In the pouches of the caribou coat was only 
 pemmican; but my hand crushed against a soft 
 ness in the inner waistcoat. I pulled it out 
 a little, old glove, the colour Hortense had 
 dangled the day that Ben Gillam fell into the 
 sea. 
 
 " Pish! " says Radisson. " Anything else? " 
 
 There crumpled out a yellow paper. M. Ra 
 disson snatched it up. 
 
 " Pish! " says he, " nothing put it back! " 
 
 It was a page of my copy-book, when I used 
 to take lessons with Rebecca. Replacing paper 
 and glove, I closed up the sailor lad s coat. 
 
 " Search his cap and moccasins! " 
 
 I was mighty thankful, as you may guess, 
 that other hands than mine found the tell-tale 
 missive a badly writ letter addressed to " Cap 
 tain Zechariah Gillium." 
 
 Tearing it open, M. Radisson read with 
 stormy lights agleam in his eyes. 
 
 " Sir, this sailor lad is an old comrade," I 
 
 pleaded, 
 
 158 
 
M. RADISSON BEGINS THE GAME 
 
 " Then a God s name take care of him," he 
 flashed out. 
 
 But long before I had Jack Battle thawed 
 back to consciousness in my own quarters, Jean 
 came running with orders for me to report to 
 M. Radisson. 
 
 " I ll take care of the sailor for you," prof 
 fered Jean. 
 
 And I hastened to the main hall. 
 
 " Get ready," ordered Radisson. " We must 
 stir! That young hop-o -my-thumb suspects 
 his father has arrived. He has sent this fellow 
 with word of me. Things will be doing. We 
 must stir we must stir. Read those for news," 
 and he handed me the letter. 
 
 The letter was addressed to Ben s father, of 
 the Hudson s Bay ship, Prince Rupert. In wri 
 ting which was scarcely legible, it ran: 
 
 I take Up my Pen to lett You knowe that cutt-throte 
 french viper Who deserted You at ye fort of ye bay 10 Years 
 ago hath come here for France Threatening us. 
 
 he Must Be Stopped. Will i Do It ? 
 
 have Bin Here Come Six weekes All Souls day and Not 
 Heard a Word of Him that went inland to Catch ye Furs 
 
 from ye Savages before they Mett Governor B . If He 
 
 Proves False 
 
 There the crushed missive was torn, but the 
 purport was plain. Ben Gillam and his father 
 159 
 
HfiRALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 were in collusion with the inland pirates to get 
 peltries from the Indians before Governor Brig- 
 dar came; and the inlanders, whoever they 
 were, had concealed both themselves and the 
 furs. I handed the paper back to M. Radisson. 
 
 " We must stir, lad we must stir," he re 
 peated. 
 
 " But the marsh is soft yet. It is unsafe to 
 
 cross." 
 
 " The river is not frozen in mid-current," 
 retorted M. Radisson impatiently. " Get ready! 
 I am taking different men to impress the young 
 spark with our numbers you and La Chesnaye 
 and the marquis and Allemand. But where a 
 devil is that Indian? " 
 
 Le Borgne had slipped away. 
 
 " Is he a spy? " I asked. 
 
 "Get ready! Why do you ask questions? 
 The thing is to do! do!! do !!! " 
 
 But Allemand, who had been hauling out 
 the big canoe, came up sullenly. 
 
 " Sir," he complained, " the river s running 
 ice the size of a raft, and the wind s a-blowing a 
 gale." 
 
 " Man," retorted M. de Radisson with the 
 quiet precision of steel, " if the river were run 
 ning live fire and the gale blew from the inferno, 
 I would go! Stay home and go to bed, AF- 
 160 
 
M. RADISSON BEGINS THE GAME 
 
 lemand." And he chose one of the common 
 sailors instead. 
 
 And when we walked out to the thick edge 
 of the shore-ice and launched the canoe among 
 a whirling drift of ice-pans, we had small hope 
 of ever seeing Fort Bourbon again. The ice 
 had not the thickness of the spring jam, but it 
 was sharp enough to cut our canoe, and we 
 poled our way far oftener than we paddled. 
 Where the currents of the two rivers joined, the 
 wind had whipped the waters to a maelstrom. 
 The night was moonless. It was well we did 
 not see the white turmoil, else M. Radisson had 
 had a mutiny on his hands. When the canoe 
 leaped to the throb of the sucking currents like 
 a cataract to the plunge, La Chesnaye clapped 
 his pole athwart and called out a curse on such 
 rashness. M. Radisson did not hear or did not 
 heed. An ice-pan pitched against La Ches- 
 naye s place, and the merchant must needs 
 thrust out to save himself. 
 
 The only light was the white glare of ice. 
 The only guide across that heaving traverse, 
 the unerring instinct of that tall figure at the 
 bow, now plunging forward, now bracing back, 
 now shouting out a "Steady! that the wind 
 carried to our ears, thrusting his pole to right, 
 to left in lightning strokes, till the canoe sud- 
 161 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 denly darted up the roaring current of the north 
 riven 
 
 Here we could no longer stem both wind 
 and tide. M. Radisson ordered us ashore for 
 rest. Fourteen days were we paddling, portag 
 ing, struggling up the north river before we 
 came in range of the Hudson s Bay fort built by 
 Governor Brigdar. 
 
 Our proximity was heralded by a low laugh 
 from M. de Radisson. " Look," said he, 
 " their ship aground in mud a mile from the 
 fort. In case of attack, their forces will be di 
 vided. It is well," said M. Radisson. 
 
 The Prince Rupert lay high on the shallows, 
 fast bound in the freezing sands. Hiding our 
 canoe in the woods, we came within hail and 
 called. There was no answer. 
 
 " Drunk or scurvy," commented M. Radis 
 son. " An faith, Ramsay, twould be an easy 
 capture if we had big enough fort to hold them 
 all!" 
 
 Shaping his hands to a trumpet, he shouted, 
 " How are you, there? " 
 
 As we were turning away a fellow came 
 scrambling up the fo castle and called back: "A 
 little better, but all asleep." 
 
 " A good time for us to examine the fort," 
 said M. de Radisson. 
 
 162 
 
M. RADISSON BEGINS THE GAME 
 
 Aloud, he answered that he would not dis 
 turb the crew, and he wheeled us off through 
 the woods. 
 
 "See!" he observed, as we emerged in full 
 view of the stockaded fur post, " palisades 
 nailed on from the inside easily pushed loose 
 from the outside. Pish! low enough for a dog 
 to jump." 
 
 Posting us in ambush, he advanced to the 
 main edifice behind the wide-open gate. I saw 
 him shaking hands with the Governor of the 
 Hudson s Bay Company, who seemed on the 
 point of sallying out to hunt. 
 
 Then he signalled for us to come. I had al 
 most concluded he meant to capture Governor 
 Brigdar on the spot; but Pierre Radisson ever 
 took friends and foes unawares. 
 
 ;< Your Excellency," says he, with the bow 
 of a courtier, " this is Captain Gingras of our 
 new ship." 
 
 Before I had gathered my wits, Governor 
 Brigdar was shaking hands. 
 
 " And this," continued Radisson, motioning 
 forward the common sailor too quick for sur 
 prise to betray us, " this, Your Excellency, is 
 Colonel Bienville of our marines." 
 
 Colonel Bienville, being but a lubberly fel 
 low, nigh choked with amazement at the Eng- 
 
 163 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 lish governor s warmth; but before we knew our 
 leader s drift, the marquis and La Chesnaye were 
 each in turn presented as commanders of our 
 different land forces. 
 
 1 Tis the misfortune of my staff not to speak 
 English," explains Pierre Radisson suavely with 
 another bow, which effectually shut any of our 
 mouths that might have betrayed him. 
 
 " Doubtless your officers know Canary bet 
 ter than English," returns Governor Brigdar; 
 and he would have us all in to drink healths. 
 
 " Keep your foot in the open door," Pierre 
 Radisson whispered as we passed into the 
 house. 
 
 Then we drank the health of the King of 
 England, firing our muskets into the roof; and 
 drank to His Most Christian Majesty of France 
 with another volley; and drank to the confusion 
 of our common enemies, with a clanking of gun- 
 butts that might have alarmed the dead. Upon 
 which Pierre Radisson protested that he would 
 not keep Governor Brigdar from the hunt; and 
 we took our departure. 
 
 " And now," said he, hastening through the 
 bush, " as no one took fright at all that firing, 
 what s to hinder examining the ship? " 
 
 " Pardieu, Ramsay," he remarked, placing 
 us in ambush again, " an we had a big enough 
 164 
 
M. RADISSON BEGINS THE GAME 
 
 fort, with food to keep them alive, we might 
 have bagged them all." 
 
 From which I hold that M. Radisson was 
 not so black a man as he has been painted; fof 
 he could have captured the English as they lay 
 weak of the scurvy and done to them, for the 
 saving of fort rations, what rivals did to all 
 foes shot them in a land which tells no secrets. 
 From our place on the shore we saw him 
 scramble to the deck. A man in red nightcap 
 rushed forward with an oath. 
 
 " And what might you want, stealing up like 
 a thief in the night? " roared the man. 
 
 " To offer my services, Captain Gillam," re 
 torted Radisson with a hand to his sword-hilt 
 and both feet planted firm on the deck. 
 " Services? " bawled Gillam. 
 " Services for your crew, captain," inter 
 rupted Radisson softly. 
 
 "Hm!" retorted Captain Gillam, pulling 
 fiercely at his grizzled beard. " Then you might 
 send a dozen brace o partridges, some oil, and 
 candles." 
 
 With that they fell to talking in lower tones; 
 and M. Radisson came away with quiet, un 
 spoken mirth in his eyes, leaving Captain Gil 
 lam in better mood. 
 
 " Curse me if he doesn t make those par- 
 165 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 tridges an excuse to go back soon/ exclaimed 
 La Chesnaye. " The ship would be of some 
 value; but why take the men prisoners? Much 
 better shoot them down as they would us, an 
 they had the chance! " 
 
 "La Chesnaye!" uttered a sharp voice. 
 Radisson had heard. " There are two things I 
 don t excuse a fool for not minding his own 
 business and not holding his tongue." 
 
 And though La Chesnaye s money paid for 
 the enterprise, he held his tongue mighty still. 
 Indeed, I think if any tongue had wagged twice 
 in Radisson s hearing he would have torn the 
 offending member out. Doing as we were bid 
 without question, we all filed down to the canoe. 
 Less ice cumbered the upper current, and by 
 the next day we were opposite Ben Gillam s New 
 England fort. 
 
 " La Chesnaye and Foret will shoot par 
 tridges," commanded M. de Radisson. Leav 
 ing them on the far side of the river, he bade the 
 sailor and me paddle him across to young Gil- 
 lam s island. 
 
 What was our surprise to see every bastion 
 mounted with heavy guns and the walls full 
 manned. We took the precaution of landing 
 under shelter of the ship and fired a musket to 
 call out sentinels. Down ran Ben Gillam and a 
 166 
 
M. RADISSON BEGINS THE GAME 
 
 second officer, armed cap-a-pie, with swagger 
 ing insolence that they took no pains to con 
 ceal. 
 
 " Congratulate you on coming in the nick 
 of time," cried Ben. 
 
 " Now what in the Old Nick does he mean 
 by that? " said Radisson. " Does the cub think 
 to cower me with his threats? " 
 
 " I trust your welcome includes my four offi 
 cers," he responded. "Two are with me and 
 two have gone for partridges." 
 
 Ben bellowed a jeering laugh, and his sec 
 ond man took the cue. 
 
 " Your four officers may be forty devils," 
 yelled the lieutenant; "we ve finished our fort. 
 Come in, Monsieur Radisson! Two can play at 
 the game of big talk! You re welcome in if you 
 leave your forty officers out! " 
 
 For the space of a second M. Radisson s eyes 
 swept the cannon pointing from the bastion 
 embrasures. We were safe enough. The full 
 hull of their own ship was between the guns 
 and us. 
 
 " Young man," said M. Radisson, addressing 
 Ben, " you may speak less haughtily, as I come 
 in friendship." 
 
 "Friendship!" flouted Ben, twirling his 
 mustache and showing both rows of teeth, 
 1*7 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " Pooh, pooh, M. Radisson! You are not talk 
 ing to a stripling! " 
 
 " I had thought I was and a very fool of a 
 booby, too," answered M. Radisson coolly. 
 
 " Sir! " roared young Gillam with a rumbling 
 of oaths, and he fumbled his sword. 
 
 But his sword had not left the scabbard be 
 fore M. de Radisson sent it spinning through 
 mid-air into the sea. 
 
 " I must ask your forgiveness for that, boy," 
 said the Frenchman to Ben, " but a gentleman 
 fights only his equals." 
 
 Ben Gillam went white and red by turns, his 
 nose flushing and paling like the wattle of an 
 angry turkey; and he stammered out that he 
 hoped M. de Radisson did not take umbrage at 
 the building of a fort. 
 
 " We must protect ourselves from the Eng 
 lish," pleaded Ben. 
 
 " Pardieu, yes," agreed M. de Radisson, 
 proffering his own sword with a gesture in place 
 of the one that had gone into the sea, " and I 
 had come to offer you twenty men to hold the 
 fort!" 
 
 Ben glanced questioningly to his second 
 officer. 
 
 " Bid that fellow draw off! " ordered M. 
 Radisson. 
 
 168 
 
M. RADISSON BEGINS THE GAME 
 
 Dazed like a man struck between the eyes, 
 Ben did as he was commanded. 
 
 " I told you that I came in friendship/ be 
 gan Radisson. 
 
 Gillam waited. 
 
 " Have you lost a man, Ben? " 
 
 " No," boldly lied Gillam. 
 
 " Has one run away from the island against 
 orders? " 
 
 " No, devil take me, if I ve lost a hand but 
 the supercargo that I killed." 
 
 " I had thought that was yours," said Radis 
 son, with contempt for the ruffian s boast; and 
 he handed out the paper taken from Jack. 
 
 Ben staggered back with a great oath, vow 
 ing he would have the scalp of the traitor 
 who lost that letter. Both stood silent, each 
 contemplating the other. Then M. Radisson 
 spoke. 
 
 " Ben," said he, never taking his glance from 
 the young fellow s face, " what will you give me 
 if I guide you to your father this afternoon? I 
 have just come from Captain Gillam. He and 
 his crew are ill of the scurvy. Dress as a cou- 
 reur and I pass you for a Frenchman." 
 
 " My father! " cried Ben with his jaws agape 
 and his wits at sea. 
 
 " Pardieu yes, I said your father! " 
 
 169 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " What do you want in return? " stammered 
 Ben. 
 
 Radisson uttered a laugh that had the sound 
 of sword-play. 
 
 " Egad, tis a hot supper I d like better than 
 anything else just now! If you feed us well and 
 disguise yourself as a coureur, I ll take you at 
 sundown! " 
 
 And in spite of his second officer s signals, 
 Ben Gillam hailed us forthwith to the fort, where 
 M. Radisson s keen eyes took in every feature 
 of door and gate and sally-port and gun. While 
 the cook was preparing our supper and Ben dis 
 guising as a French wood-runner, we wandered 
 at will, M. Radisson all the while uttering low 
 laughs and words as of thoughts. 
 
 It was " Caught neat as a mouse in a 
 trap! Don t let him spill the canoe when we re 
 running the traverse, Ramsay! May the fiends 
 blast La Chesnaye if he opens his foolish 
 mouth in Gillam s hearing! Where, think you, 
 may we best secure him? Are the timbers of 
 your room sound? " 
 
 Or else " Faith, a stout timber would hold 
 those main gates open! Egad, now, an a man 
 were standing in this doorway, he might jam a 
 musket in the hinge so the thing would keep 
 open! Those guns in the bastjons though 
 170 
 
M. RADISSON BEGINS THE GAME 
 
 think you those cannon are not pushed too 
 far through the windows to be slued round 
 quickly?" 
 
 And much more to the same purpose, which 
 told why M. Radisson stooped to beg supper 
 from rivals. 
 
 At sundown all was ready for departure. 
 La Chesnaye and the marquis had come back 
 with the partridges that were to make pretence 
 for our quick return to the Prince Rupert. Ben 
 Gillam had disguised as a bush-runner, and the 
 canoe lay ready to launch. Fools and children 
 unconsciously do wise things by mistake, as you 
 know; and twas such an unwitting act sprung M. 
 Radisson s plans and let the prize out of the trap. 
 
 " Sink me an you didn t promise the loan 
 of twenty men to hold the fort!/ exclaimed 
 Ben, stepping down. 
 
 " Twenty and more and welcome," cried 
 Radisson eagerly. 
 
 " Then send Ramsay and Monsieur La Ches 
 naye back," put in Ben quickly. " I like not the 
 fort without one head while I m away." 
 
 " Willingly," and M. Radisson s eyes glinted 
 triumph. 
 
 " Hold a minute! " cried Ben before sitting 
 down. " The river is rough. Let two of my 
 men take their places in the canoe! " 
 12 171 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 M. Radisson s breath drew sharp through 
 his teeth. But the trap was sprung, and he 
 yielded gracefully enough to hide design. 
 
 "A curse on the blundering cub! " he mut 
 tered, drawing apart to give me instructions. 
 " Pardieu you must profit on this, Ramsay! 
 Keep your eyes open. Spoil a door-lock or 
 two! Plug the cannon if you can! Mix sand 
 with their powder! Shift the sentinels! Get the 
 devils insubordinate " 
 
 "M. Radisson!" shouted Gillam. 
 " Coming! " says Radisson; and he went off 
 with his teeth gritting sand. 
 
 172 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE WHITE DARKNESS 
 
 How much of those instructions we carried 
 out I leave untold. Certainly we could not have 
 been less grateful as guests than Ben Gillam s 
 men were inhospitable as hosts. A more sottish 
 crew of rakes you never saw. Twas gin in the 
 morning and rum in the afternoon and vile po 
 tions of mixed poisons half the night, with a 
 cracking of the cook s head for withholding 
 fresh kegs and a continual scuffle of fighters 
 over cheating at cards. No marvel the second 
 officer flogged and carved at the knaves like an 
 African slaver. The first night the whole crew 
 set on us with drawn swords because we refused 
 to gamble the doublets from our backs. La 
 Chesnaye laid about with his sword and I with 
 my rapier, till the cook rushed to our rescue with 
 a kettle of lye. After that we escaped to the 
 deck of the ship and locked ourselves inside Ben 
 Gillam s cabin. Here we heard the weather- 
 vanes of the fort bastions creaking for three days 
 173 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 to the shift of fickle winds. Shore-ice grew 
 thicker and stretched farther to mid-current. 
 Mock suns, or sun-dogs, as we called them, oft 
 hung on each side of the sun. La Chesnaye said 
 these boded ill weather. 
 
 Sea-birds caught the first breath of storm 
 and wheeled landward with shrill calls, and once 
 La Chesnaye and I made out through the ship s 
 glass a vast herd of caribou running to sniff the 
 gale from the crest of an inland hill. 
 
 " If Radisson comes not back soon we are 
 storm-bound here for the winter. As you live, 
 we are," grumbled the merchant. 
 
 But prompt as the ring of a bell to the clap 
 per came Pierre Radisson on the third day, well 
 pleased with what he had done and alert to keep 
 two of us outside the fort in spite of Ben s ur- 
 gings to bring the French in for refreshments. 
 
 The wind was shifting in a way that por 
 tended a nor easter, and the weather would pres 
 ently be too inclement for us to remain outside. 
 That hastened M. Radisson s departure, though 
 sun-dogs and the long, shrill whistling of con 
 trary winds foretold what was brewing. 
 
 " Sink me, after such kindness, I ll see you 
 part way home! By the Lord Harry, I will!" 
 swore Ben. 
 
 M. Radisson screwed his eyes nigh shut and 
 174 
 
THE WHITE DARKNESS 
 
 protested he could not permit young Captain 
 Gillam to take such trouble. 
 
 " The young villain," mutters La Chesnaye, 
 " he wants to spy which way we go." 
 
 " Come! Come! " cries Ben. " If you say 
 another word I go all the way with you! " 
 
 " To spy on our fort," whispers La Chesnaye. 
 
 M. Radisson responds that nothing would 
 give greater pleasure. 
 
 " I ve half a mind to do it," hesitates Ben, 
 looking doubtfully at us. 
 
 " To be sure," urges M. Radisson, " come 
 along and have a Christmas with our merry 
 blades!" 
 
 "Why, then, by the Lord, I will!" decides 
 Gillam. " That is," he added, " if you ll send the 
 marquis and his man, there, back to my fort as 
 hostages." 
 
 M. Radisson twirled his mustaches thought 
 fully, gave the marquis the same instructions in 
 French as he had given us when we were left in 
 the New Englander s fort, and turning with a 
 calm face to Ben, bade him get into our 
 canoe. 
 
 But when we launched out M. Radisson 
 headed the craft up-stream in the wrong direc 
 tion, whither we paddled till nightfall. It was 
 cold enough in all conscience to afford Ben Gil- 
 75 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 lam excuse for tipping a flask from his jacket- 
 pouch to his teeth every minute or two; but 
 when we were rested and ready to launch again, 
 the young captain s brain was so befuddled that 
 he scarce knew whether he were in Boston or on 
 Hudson Bay. 
 
 This time we headed straight down-stream, 
 Ben nodding and dozing from his place in the 
 middle, M. Radisson, La Chesnaye, and I poling 
 hard to keep the drift-ice off. We avoided the 
 New Englander s fort by going on the other side 
 of the island, and when we shot past Governor 
 Brigdar s stockades with the lights of the Prince 
 Rupert blinking through the dark, Ben was fast 
 asleep. 
 
 And all the while the winds were piping over 
 head with a roar as from the wings of the great 
 storm bird which broods over all that north- 
 land. Then the blore of the trumpeting wind 
 was answered by a counter fugue from the sea, 
 with a roll and pound of breakers across the sand 
 of the traverse. Carried by the swift current, 
 we had shot into the bay. It was morning, but 
 the black of night had given place to the white 
 darkness of northern storm. Ben Gillam jerked 
 up sober and grasped an idle pole to lend a hand. 
 Through the whirl of spray M. Radisson s figure 
 loomed black at the bow, and above the boom of 
 176 
 
THE WHITE DARKNESS 
 
 tumbling waves came the grinding as of an earth 
 quake. 
 
 " We are lost! We are lost! " shrieked Gil- 
 lam in panic, cowering back to the stern. " The 
 storm s drifted down polar ice from the north 
 and we re caught ! We re caught ! " he cried. 
 
 He sprang to his feet as if to leap into that 
 white waste of seething ice foam. Twas the 
 frenzy of terror, which oft seizes men adrift on 
 ice. In another moment he would have swamped 
 us under the pitching crest of a mountain sea. 
 But M. Radisson turned. One blow of his pole 
 and the foolish youth fell senseless to the bottom 
 of the canoe. 
 
 "Look, sir, look!" screamed La Chesnaye, 
 " the canoe s getting ice-logged! She s sunk to 
 the gun ales!" 
 
 But at the moment when M. Radisson turned 
 to save young Gillam, the unguided canoe had 
 darted between two rolling seas. Walls of ice 
 rose on either side. A white whirl a mighty 
 rush a tumult of roaring waters the ice walls 
 pitched down the canoe was caught tossed 
 up nipped crushed like a card-box and we 
 four flung on the drenching ice-pans to a roll 
 of the seas like to sweep us under, with a footing 
 slippery as glass. 
 
 " Keep hold of Gillam! Lock hands! " came 
 177 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 a clarion voice through the storm. " Don t fear, 
 men! There is no danger! The gale will drive 
 us ashore! Don t fear! Hold tight! Hold tight! 
 There s no danger if you have no fear! " 
 
 The ice heaved and flung to the roll of the 
 drift. 
 
 " Hold fast and your wet sleeves will freeze 
 you to the ice! Steady! " he called, as the thing 
 fell and rose again. 
 
 Then, with the hiss of the world serpent that 
 pursues man to his doom, we were scudding be 
 fore a mountain swell. There was the splinter 
 ing report of a cannon-shot. The ice split. We 
 clung the closer. The rush of waves swept under 
 us, around us, above us. There came a crash. 
 The thing gave from below. The powers of 
 darkness seemed to close over us, the jaws of the 
 world serpent shut upon their prey, the spirit of 
 evil shrieked its triumph. 
 
 Our feet touched bottom. The waves fell 
 back, and we were ashore on the sand-bar of the 
 traverse. 
 
 "Run! Run for your lives!" shouted Ra- 
 disson, jerking up Gillam, whom the shock had 
 brought to his senses. " Lock hands and run! " 
 
 And run we did, like those spirits in the twi 
 light of the lost, with never a hope of rescue and 
 never a respite from fear, hand gripping hand, 
 178 
 
THE WHITE DARKNESS 
 
 the tide and the gale and the driving sleet yelp 
 ing wolfishly at our heels! Twas the ohd, old 
 story of Man leaping undaunted as a warrior to 
 conquer his foes turned back! beaten! pur 
 sued by serpent and wolf, spirit of darkness and 
 power of destruction, with the light of life flick 
 ering low and the endless frosts creeping close 
 to a heart beating faint! 
 
 Oh, those were giants that we set forth to 
 conquer in that harsh northland the giants of 
 the warring elements! And giants were needed 
 for the task. 
 
 Think you of that when you hear the slight 
 ing scorn of the rough pioneer, because he 
 minceth not his speech, nor weareth ruffs at his 
 wrists, nor bendeth so low at the knee as your 
 Old-World hero! 
 
 The earth fell away from our feet. We all 
 four tumbled forward. The storm whistled past 
 overhead. And we lay at the bottom of a cliff 
 that seemed to shelter a multitude of shadowy 
 forms. We had fallen to a ravine where the vast 
 caribou herds had wandered from the storm. 
 
 Says M. Radisson, with a depth of reverence 
 which words cannot tell, " Men," says he, 
 " thank God for this deliverance! " 
 
 So unused to man s presence were the cari- 
 179 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 bou, or perhaps so stupefied by the storm, they 
 let us wander to the centre of the herd, round 
 which the great bucks had formed a cordon with 
 their backs to the wind to protect the does and 
 the young. The heat from the multitude of bod 
 ies warmed us back to life, and I make no doubt 
 the finding of that herd was God Almighty s 
 provision for our safety. 
 
 For three days we wandered with nothing to 
 eat but wild birds done to death by the gale.* 
 On the third day the storm abated; but it was 
 still snowing too heavily for us to see a man s 
 length away. Two or three times the caribou 
 tossed up their heads sniffing the air suspicious 
 ly, and La Chesnaye fell to cursing lest the wolf- 
 pack should stampede the herd. At this Gillam, 
 whose hulking body had wasted from lack of 
 bulky rations, began to whimper 
 
 " If the wolf-pack come we are lost! " 
 
 " Man," says Radisson sternly, " say thy 
 prayers and thank God we are alive ! " 
 
 The caribou began to rove aimlessly for a 
 time, then they were off with a rush that bare 
 gave us chance to escape the army of clicking 
 hoofs. We were left unprotected in the falling 
 snow. 
 
 * See Radisson s account Prince Society (1885), Boston 
 Bodleian Library. Canadian Archives, i8g$-g6. 
 1 80 
 
THE WHITE DARKNESS 
 
 The primal instincts come uppermost at such 
 times, and like the wild creatures of the woods 
 facing a foe, instantaneously we wheeled back to 
 back, alert for the enemy that had frightened the 
 caribou. 
 
 " Hist! " whispers Radisson. " Look! " 
 
 Ben Gillam leaped into the air as if he had 
 been shot, shrieking out: " It s him! It s him! 
 Shoot him! The thief! The traitor! It s 
 him!" 
 
 He dashed forward, followed by the rest of 
 us, hardly sure whether Ben were sane. 
 
 Three figures loomed through the snowy 
 darkness, white and silent as the snow itself 
 vague as phantoms in mist pointing at us like 
 wraiths of death spirit hunters incarnate of that 
 vast wilderness riding the riotous storm over 
 land and sea. One swung a weapon aloft. 
 There was the scream as of a woman s cry and 
 the shrieking wind had swept the snow-clouds 
 about us in a blind fury that blotted all sight. 
 And when the combing billows of drift passed, 
 the apparition had faded. We four stood alone 
 staring in space with strange questionings. 
 
 " Egad! " gasped Radisson, " I don t mind 
 when the wind howls like a wolf, but when it 
 takes to the death-scream, with snow like the 
 
 skirts of a shroud " 
 
 181 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " May the Lord have mercy on us! " mut 
 tered La Chesnaye, crossing himself. " It is sign 
 of death! That was a woman s figure. It is 
 sign of death!" 
 
 " Sign of death! " raged Ben, stamping his 
 impotent fury, " tis him tis him! The Judas 
 Iscariot, and he s left us to die so that he may 
 steal the furs!" 
 
 "Hold quiet!" ordered M. Radisson. 
 " Look, you rantipole who is that? " 
 
 Twas Le Borgne, the one-eyed, emerging 
 from the gloom of the snow like a ghost. By 
 signs and Indian words the fellow offered to 
 guide us back to our Habitation. 
 
 We reached the fort that night, Le Borgne 
 flitting away like a shadow, as he had come. 
 
 And the first thing we did was to hold a serv 
 ice of thanks to God Almighty for our deliver 
 ance. 
 
 182 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 A CHALLENGE 
 
 FILLING the air with ghost-shadows, silen 
 cing earth, muffling the sea, day after day fell 
 the snow. Shore-ice barred out the pounding 
 surf. The river had frozen to adamant. Brush 
 wood sank in the deepening drifts like a foun 
 dered ship, and all that remained visible of ever 
 greens was an occasional spar or snow mush 
 room on the crest of a branch. 
 
 No east, no west, no day, no night; nothing 
 but a white darkness, billowing snow, and a si 
 lence as of death. It was the cold, silent, mystic, 
 white world of northern winter. 
 
 At one moment the fort door flings wide with 
 a rush of frost like smoke clouds, and in stamps 
 Godefroy, shaking snow off with boisterous noise 
 and vowing by the saints that the drifts are as 
 high as the St. Pierre s deck. M. Groseillers 
 orders the rascal to shut the door; but bare has 
 the latch clicked when young Jean whisks in, 
 tossing snow from cap and gauntlets like a clip- 
 183 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 per shaking a reef to the spray, and declares that 
 the snow is already level with the fort walls. 
 
 " Eh, nephew," exclaims Radisson sharply, 
 " how are the cannon? " 
 
 Ben Gillam, who has lugged himself from 
 bed to the hearth for the first time since his 
 freezing, blurts out a taunting laugh. We had 
 done better to build on the sheltered side of an 
 island, he informs us. 
 
 " Now, the shivers take me!" cries Ben, "but 
 where a deuce are all your land iorces and ma 
 rines and jack-tars and forty thousand officers? " 
 
 He cast a scornful look down our long, low- 
 roofed barracks, counting the men gathered 
 round the hearth and laughing as he counted. 
 M. Radisson affected not to hear, telling Jean 
 to hoist the cannon and puncture embrasures 
 high to the bastion-roofs like Italian towers. 
 
 " Monsieur Radisson," impudently mouths 
 Ben, who had taken more rum for his health 
 than was good for his head, " I asked you to in 
 form me where your land forces are? " 
 
 " Outside the fort constructing a breast 
 work of snow." 
 
 " Good! " sneers Ben. " And the marines? " 
 
 " On the ships, where they ought to be." 
 
 "Good!" laughs Gillam again. "And the 
 officers?" 
 
 184 
 
A CHALLENGE 
 
 " Superintending the raising of the cannon. 
 And I would have you to know, young man," 
 adds Radisson, " that when a guest asks too 
 many questions, a host may not answer." 
 
 But Ben goes on unheeding. 
 
 " Now I ll wager that dog of a runaway 
 slave o mine, that Jack Battle who s hiding 
 hereabouts, I ll wager the hangdog slave and 
 pawn my head you haven t a corporal s guard o 
 marines and land forces all told! " 
 
 M. Radisson never allowed an enemy s taunt 
 to hasten speech or act. He looked at Ben with 
 a measuring glance which sized that fellow very 
 small indeed. 
 
 " Then I must decline your wager, Ben," says 
 he. " In the first place, Jack Battle is mine al 
 ready. In the second, you would lose ten times 
 over. In the third, you have few enough men 
 already. And in the fourth, your head isn t 
 worth pawn for a wager; though I may take 
 you, body and boots, all the same," adds he. 
 
 With that he goes off, leaving Ben blowing 
 curses into the fire like a bellows. The young 
 rake bawled out for more gin, and with head 
 sunk on his chest began muttering to him- 
 self- 
 
 " That black-eyed, false-hearted, slippery 
 French eel! " he mumbles, rapping out an oath. 
 185 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " Now the devil fly off with me, an I don t slit 
 him like a Dutch herring for a traitor and a 
 knave and a thief and a cheat! By Judas, if he 
 doesn t turn up with the furs, I ll do to him as I 
 did to the supercargo last week, and bury him 
 deep in the bastion! Very fine, him that was to 
 get the furs hiding inland! Him, that didn t add 
 a cent to what Kirke and Stocking paid; they to 
 supply the money, my father to keep the com 
 pany from knowing, and me to sail the ship 
 him, that might a hung in Boston but for my 
 father towing him out o port him the first to 
 turn knave and steal all the pelts! " 
 
 " Who? " quietly puts in M. Groseillers, who 
 had been listening with wide eyes. 
 
 But Ben s head rolled drunkenly and he slid 
 down in sodden sleep. 
 
 Again the fort door opened with the rush of 
 frost clouds, and in the midst of the white va 
 pour hesitated three men. The door softly 
 closed, and Le Borgne stole forward. 
 
 " White-man promise no hurt good 
 Indian? " he asked. 
 
 " The white-man is Le Borgne s friend," as 
 sured Groseillers, " but who are these? " 
 
 He pointed to two figures, more dead than 
 alive, chittering with cold. 
 
 Le Borgne s foxy eye took on a stolid look. 
 1 86 
 
A CHALLENGE 
 
 "White-men lost in the snow," said he, 
 " white-man from the big white canoe come 
 walkee walkee one two three sleep 
 watchee good Indian friend fort ! " 
 
 M. Groseillers sprang to his feet muttering 
 of treachery from Governor Brigdar of the Hud 
 son s Bay Company, and put himself in front of 
 the intruders so that Ben could not see. But the 
 poor fellows were so frozen that they could only 
 mumble out something about the Prince Rupert 
 having foundered, carrying half the crew to the 
 river bottom. Hurrying the two Englishmen 
 to another part of the fort, M. Groseillers bade 
 me run for Radisson. 
 
 I wish that you could have seen the trium 
 phant glint laughing in Pierre Radisson s eyes 
 when I told him. 
 
 " Fate deals the cards! Tis we must play 
 them! This time the jade hath trumped her 
 partner s ace! Ha, ha, Ramsay! We could a 
 captured both father and son with a flip o the 
 finger! Now there s only need to hold the son! 
 Governor Brigdar must beg passage from us to 
 leave the bay; but who a deuce are those inland 
 ers that Ben Gillam keeps raving against for 
 hiding the furs? " 
 
 And he flung the mess-room door open so 
 forcibly that Ben Gillam waked with a jump. At 
 *3 187 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 sight of Le Borgne the young New Englander 
 sprang over the benches with his teeth agleam 
 and murder on his face. But the liquor had gone 
 to his knees. He keeled head over like a top- 
 heavy brig, and when we dragged him up Le 
 Borgne had bolted. 
 
 All that night Ben swore deliriously that he 
 would do worse to Le Borgne s master than he 
 had done to the supercargo; but he never by any 
 chance let slip who Le Borgne s master might 
 be, though M. Radisson, Chouart Groseillers, 
 young Jean, and I kept watch by turns lest the 
 drunken knave should run amuck of our French 
 men. I mind once, when M. Radisson and I were 
 sitting quiet by the bunk where Ben was berthed, 
 the young rake sat up with a fog-horn of a yell 
 and swore he would slice that pirate of a Radis 
 son and all his cursed Frenchies into meat for the 
 dogs. 
 
 M. Radisson looked through the candle-light 
 and smiled. " If you want to know your charac 
 ter, Ramsay," says he, " get your enemy talk 
 ing in his cups! " 
 
 " Shiver my soul, if I d ever come to his fort 
 but to find out how strong the liar is!" cries 
 Ben. 
 
 " Hm! I thought so," says M. de Radisson, 
 pushing the young fellow back to his pillow an4 
 188 
 
A CHALLENGE 
 
 fastening the fur robes close lest frost steamed 
 through the ill-chinked logs. 
 
 By Christmas Ben Gillam and Jack Battle 
 of the New Englanders fort and the two spies 
 of the Hudson s Bay Company had all recovered 
 enough from their freezing to go about. What 
 with keeping the English and New Englanders 
 from knowing of each other s presence, we had 
 as twisted a piece of by-play as you could want. 
 Ben Gillam and Jack we dressed as bushrangers; 
 the Hudson s Bay spies as French marines. Nei 
 ther suspected the others were English, nor ever 
 crossed words while with us. And whatever 
 enemies say of Pierre Radisson, I would have 
 you remember that he treated his captives so 
 well that chains would not have dragged them 
 back to their own masters. 
 
 " How can I handle all the English of both 
 forts unless I win some of them for friends? " he 
 would ask, never laying unction to his soul for 
 the kindness that he practised. 
 
 By Christmas, too, the snow had ceased fall 
 ing and the frost turned the land to a silent, 
 white, paleocrystic world. Sap-frozen timbers 
 cracked with the loud, sharp snapping of pistol- 
 shots then the white silence! The river ice 
 splintered to the tightening grip of winter with 
 the grinding of an earthquake, and again the 
 189 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 white silence! Or the heavy night air, lying 
 thick with frost smoke like a pall over earth, 
 would reverberate to the deep bayings of the 
 wolf-pack, and over all would close the white 
 silence! 
 
 As if to defy the powers of that deathly 
 realm, M. de Radisson had the more logs heaped 
 on our hearth and doubled the men s rations. 
 On Christmas morning he had us all out to fire 
 a salute, Ben Gillam and Jack and the two Fur 
 Company spies disguised as usual, and the rest of 
 us muffled to our eyes. Jackets and tompions 
 were torn from the cannon. Unfrosted priming 
 was distributed. Flags were run up on boats 
 and bastions. Then the word was given to fire 
 and cheer at the top of our voices. 
 
 Ben Gillam was sober enough that morning 
 but in the mood of a ruffian stale from over 
 night brawls. Hardly had the rocking echoes of 
 cannonading died away when the rascal strode 
 boldly forward in front of us all, up with his 
 musket, took quick aim at the main flagstaff and 
 fired. The pole splintered off at the top and 
 the French flag fluttered to the ground. 
 
 " There s for you you Frenchies ! " he 
 shouted. " See the old rag tumble! " 
 
 Twas the only time M. Radisson gave vent 
 to wrath. 
 
 190 
 
A CHALLENGE 
 
 " Dog! " he ground out, wrenching the gun 
 from Gillam s hands. 
 
 " Avast ! Avast ! " cries Ben. " He who lives 
 in glass-houses needs not to throw stones! 
 Mind that, ye pirate! " 
 
 " Dog! " repeats M. Radisson, " dare to 
 show disrespect to the Most Christian of 
 Kings!" 
 
 "Most Christian of Kings!" flouts Ben. 
 "I ll return to my fort! Then I ll show you 
 what I ll give the Most Christian of Kings! " 
 
 La Chesnaye rushed up with rash threat; but 
 M. de Radisson pushed the merchant aside and 
 stood very still, looking at Ben. 
 
 " Young man," he began, as quietly as if he 
 were wishing Ben the season s compliments, " I 
 brought you to this fort for the purpose of keep 
 ing you in this fort, and it is for me to say when 
 you may leave this fort! " 
 
 Ben rumbled out a string of oaths, and M. 
 Radisson motioned the soldiers to encircle him. 
 Then all Ben s pot-valiant bravery ebbed. 
 
 " Am I a prisoner? " he demanded sav 
 agely. 
 
 " Prisoner or guest, according to your con 
 duct," answered Radisson lightly. Then to the 
 men " Form line march! " 
 
 At the word we filed into the guard-room, 
 191 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 where the soldiers relieved Gillam of pistol and 
 sword. 
 
 " Am I to be shot? Am I to be shot? " cried 
 Gillam, white with terror at M. Radisson s order 
 to load muskets. " Am I to be shot? " he whim 
 pered. 
 
 " Not unless you do it yourself, and twould 
 be the most graceful act of your life, Ben! And 
 now," said M. Radisson, dismissing all the men 
 but one sentinel for the door, " and now, Ben, a 
 Merry Christmas to you, and may it be your last 
 in Hudson Bay! " 
 
 With that he left Ben Gillam prisoner; but 
 he ordered special watch to be kept on the fort 
 bastions lest Ben s bravado portended attack. 
 The next morning he asked Ben to breakfast 
 with our staff. 
 
 " The compliments of the morning to you. 
 And I trust you rested well!" M. Radisson 
 called out. 
 
 Ben wished that he might be cursed if any 
 man could rest well on bare boards rimed with 
 frost like curdled milk. 
 
 "Cheer up, man! Cheer up!" encourages 
 Radisson. " There s to be a capture to-day! " 
 
 "A capture!" reiterates Ben, glowering 
 black across the table and doffing his cap with 
 bad grace. 
 
 192 
 
A CHALLENGE 
 
 "Aye, I said a capture! Egad, lad, one fort 
 and one ship are prize enough for one day! " 
 
 " Sink my soul," flouts Gillam, looking inso 
 lently down the table to the rows of ragged sail 
 ors sitting beyond our officers, " if every man o 
 your rough-scuff had the nine lives of a cat, their 
 nine lives would be shot down before they 
 reached our palisades! " 
 
 " Is it a wager? " demands M. Radisson. 
 
 " A wager ship and fort and myself to boot 
 if you win! " 
 
 " Done! " cries La Chesnaye. 
 
 " Ah, well," calculates M. Radisson, " the 
 ship and the fort are worth something! When 
 we ve taken them, Ben can go. Nine lives for 
 each man, did you say? " 
 
 " A hundred, if you like," boasts the New 
 Englander, letting fly a broadside of oaths at 
 the Frenchman s slur. " A hundred men with 
 nine lives, if you like! We ve powder for all! " 
 
 " Ben! " M. Radisson rose. " Two men are 
 in the fort now! Pick me out seven more! That 
 will make nine! With those nine I own your 
 fort by nightfall or I set you free! " 
 
 " Done! " shouts Ben. " Every man here a 
 witness! " 
 
 " Choose! " insists M. Radisson. 
 
 Sailors and soldiers were all on their feet ges- 
 193 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 ticulating and laughing ; for Godefroy was 
 translating into French as fast as the leaders 
 talked. 
 
 " Choose! " urges M. Radisson, leaning over 
 to snuff out the great breakfast candle with bare 
 fingers as if his hand were iron. 
 
 " Shiver my soul, then," laughs Ben, in high 
 feather, " let the first be that little Jack Sprat of 
 a half-frozen Battle! He s loyal to me! " 
 
 " Good! " smiles M. Radisson. " Come over 
 here, Jack Battle." 
 
 Jack Battle jumped over the table and stood 
 behind M. Radisson as second lieutenant, Ben s 
 eyes gaping to see Jack s disguise of bushranger 
 like himself. 
 
 " Go on," orders M. Radisson, " choose 
 whom you will! " 
 
 The soldiers broke into ringing cheers. 
 
 " Devil take you, Radisson," ejaculates Ben 
 familiarly, " such cool impudence would chill 
 the Nick!" 
 
 " That is as it may be," retorts Radisson. 
 "Choose! We must be off!" 
 
 Again the soldiers cheered. 
 
 " Well, there s that turncoat of a Stanhope 
 with his fine airs. I d rather see him shot next 
 than any one else! " 
 
 " Thank you, Ben," said I. 
 194 
 
A CHALLENGE 
 
 " Come over here, Ramsay," orders Radis- 
 son. " That s two. Go on! Five more! " 
 
 The soldiers fell to laughing and Ben to pull 
 ing at his mustache. 
 
 " That money-bag of a La Chesnaye next," 
 mutters Ben. " He s lady enough to faint at 
 first shot." 
 
 " There ll be no first shot. Come, La Ches 
 naye! Three. Goon! Go on, Ben! Your wits 
 work slow! " 
 
 " Allemand, the pilot! He is drunk most of 
 
 the time." 
 
 " Four," counts M. Radisson. " Come over 
 here, Allemand! You re drunk most of the time, 
 like Ben. Goon!" 
 
 " Godefroy, the English traderhe sulks- 
 he s English he ll do! " 
 
 " Five," laughs M. Radisson. 
 
 And for the remaining two, Ben Gillam chose 
 a scullion lad and a wretched little stowaway, 
 who had kept hidden under hatches till we were 
 too far out to send him back. At the last choice 
 our men shouted and clapped and stamped and 
 broke into snatches of song about conquerors. 
 
 195 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE BATTLE NOT TO THE STRONG 
 
 M. RADISSON turned the sand-glass up to 
 time our preparations. Before the last grain 
 fell we seven were out, led by M. Radisson, 
 speeding over the snow-drifted marsh through 
 the thick frosty darkness that lies like a blanket 
 over that northland at dawn. The air hung 
 heavy, gray, gritty to the touch with ice-frost. 
 The hard-packed drifts crisped to our tread with 
 little noises which I can call by no other name 
 than frost-shots. Frost pricked the taste to each 
 breath. Endless reaches of frost were all that 
 met the sight. Frost-crackling the only sound. 
 Frost in one s throat like a drink of water, and 
 the tingle of the frost in the blood with a leap 
 that was fulness of life. 
 
 Up drifts with the help of our muskets! 
 Down hills with a rush of snow-shoes that set 
 the powdery snow flying! Skimming the levels 
 with the silent speed of wings! Past the snow 
 mushrooms topping underbrush and the snow 
 196 
 
BATTLE NOT TO THE STRONG 
 
 cones of the evergreens and the snow billows of 
 under rocks and the snow-wreathed antlers of 
 the naked forest in a world of snow! 
 
 The morning stars paled to steel pin-pricks 
 through a gray sky. Shadows took form in the 
 frost. The slant rays of a southern sun struck 
 through the frost clouds in spears. Then the 
 frost smoke rose like mist, and the white glare 
 shone as a sea. In another hour it would be high 
 noon of the short shadow. Every coat beaver 
 and bear and otter and raccoon hung open, 
 every capote flung back, every runner hot as in 
 midsummer, though frost-rime edged the hair 
 like snow. When the sun lay like a fiery shield 
 half-way across the southern horizon, M. Radis- 
 son called a halt for nooning. 
 
 " Now, remember, my brave lads," said he, 
 after he had outlined his plans, drawing figures of 
 fort and ship and army of seven on the snow, 
 " now, remember, if you do what I ve told you, 
 not a shot will be fired, not a drop of blood 
 spilled, not a grain of powder used, and to every 
 man free tobacco for the winter- 
 
 " If we succeed," interjects Godefroy sul 
 lenly. 
 
 " If" repeats M. Radisson; " an I hear that 
 word again there will be a carving! " 
 
 Long before we came to the north river near 
 197 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 the Hudson s Bay Company s fort, the sun had 
 wheeled across the horizon and sunk in a sea of 
 snow, but now that the Prince Rupert had foun 
 dered, the capture of these helpless Englishmen 
 was no object to us. Unless a ship from the 
 south end of the bay came to rescue them they 
 were at our mercy. Hastening up the river 
 course we met Governor Brigdar sledding the ice 
 with a dog-team of huskies. 
 
 " The compliments of the season to Your Ex 
 cellency! " shouted Radisson across the snow. 
 
 " The same to the representative of France," 
 returned Governor Brigdar, trying to get away 
 before questions could be asked. 
 
 " I don t see your ship," called Radisson. 
 
 " Four leagues down the river," explained 
 the governor. 
 
 " Under the river," retorted Radisson, affect 
 ing not to hear. 
 
 " No down the river," and the governor 
 whisked round a bluff out of call. 
 
 The gray night shadows gathered against the 
 woods. Stars seeded the sky overhead till the 
 whole heavens were aglow. And the northern 
 lights shot their arrowy jets of fire above the 
 pole, rippled in billows of flame, scintillated with 
 the faint rustling of a flag in a gale, or swung 
 midway between heaven and earth like censers 
 
BATTLE NOT TO THE STRONG 
 
 to the invisible God of that cold, far, northern 
 world. 
 
 Then the bastions of Ben Gillam s fort 
 loomed above the wastes like the peak of a ship 
 at sea, and M. Radisson issued his last com 
 mands. Godefroy and I were to approach the 
 main gate. M. Radisson and his five men would 
 make a detour to attack from the rear. 
 
 A black flag waved above the ship to signal 
 those inland pirates whom Ben Gillam was ever 
 cursing, and the main gates stood wide ajar. 
 Half a mile away Godefroy hallooed aloud. A 
 dozen New Englanders, led by the lieutenant, 
 ran to meet us. 
 
 " Where is Master Ben? " demanded the 
 leader. 
 
 " Le capitaine," answered Godefroy, affect 
 ing broken English, " le capitaine, he is fatigue. 
 He is back voila how you for speak it? avec, 
 monsieur! Le capitaine, he has need, he has 
 want for you to go with food." 
 
 At that, with a deal of unguarded gabbling, 
 they must hail us inside for refreshments, while 
 half a dozen men ran in the direction Godefroy 
 pointed with the food for their master. No 
 sooner were their backs turned than Godefroy 
 whispers instructions to the marquis and his man, 
 who had been left as hostages. Foret strolled 
 199 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 casually across to the guard-room, where the 
 powder was stored. Here he posted himself in 
 the doorway with his sword jammed above the 
 hinge. His man made a precipitate rush to heap 
 fires for our refreshment, dropping three logs 
 across the fort gates and two more athwart the 
 door of the house. Godefroy and I, on pretext 
 of scanning out the returning travellers, ran one 
 to the nigh bastion, the other to the fore-deck of 
 the ship, where was a swivel cannon that might 
 have done damage. 
 
 Then Godefroy whistled. 
 
 Like wolves out of the earth rose M. Radis- 
 son and his five men from the shore near the 
 gates. They were in possession before the lieu 
 tenant and his men had returned. On the in 
 stant when the surprised New Englanders ran 
 up, Radisson bolted the gates. 
 
 " Where is my master? " thundered the lieu 
 tenant, beating for admission. 
 
 " Come in." M. Radisson cautiously opened 
 the gate, admitting the lieutenant alone. 
 
 " It is not a question of where your master is, 
 but of mustering your men and calling the roll," 
 said the Frenchman to the astounded lieutenant. 
 " You see that my people are in control of your 
 powder-house, your cannon, and your ship. 
 Your master is a prisoner in my fort. Now sum- 
 200 
 
BATTLE NOT TO THE STRONG 
 
 mon your men, and be glad Ben Gillam is not 
 here to kill more of you as he killed your super 
 cargo! " 
 
 Half an hour from the time we had entered 
 the fort, keys, arms, and ammunition were in 
 M. de Radisson s hands without the firing of a 
 shot, and the unarmed New Englanders assigned 
 to the main building, where we could lock them 
 if they mutinied. To sound of trumpet and 
 drum, with Godefroy bobbing his tipstaff, M. 
 Radisson must needs run up the French flag in 
 place of the pirate ensign. Then, with the lieu 
 tenant and two New Englanders to witness ca 
 pitulation, he marched from the gates to do the 
 same with the ship. Allemand and Godefroy 
 kept sentinel duty at the gates. La Chesnaye, 
 Foret, and Jack Battle held the bastions, and the 
 rest stood guard in front of the main building. 
 
 From my place I saw how it happened. 
 
 The lieutenant stepped back to let M. de Ra 
 disson pass up the ship s ladder first. The New 
 Englanders followed, the lieutenant still waiting 
 at the bottom step; and when M. Radisson s 
 back was turned the lieutenant darted down the 
 river bank in the direction of Governor Brigdar s 
 fort. 
 
 The flag went up and M. Radisson looked 
 back to witness the salute. Then he discovered 
 201 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 the lieutenant s flight. The New Englanders 
 purpose was easily guessed to lock forces with 
 Governor Brigdar, and while our strength was 
 divided attack us here or at the Habitation. 
 
 " One fight at a time," says Radisson, sum 
 moning to council in the powder-house all hands 
 but our guard at the gate. " You, Allemand 
 and Godefroy, will cross the marsh to-night, bid 
 ding Chouart be ready for attack and send back 
 re-enforcements here! You two lads" point 
 ing to the stowaway and scullion " will boil 
 down bears grease and porpoise fat for a half a 
 hundred cressets! Cut up all the brooms in the 
 fort! Use pine-boughs! Split the green wood 
 and slip in oiled rags! Have a hundred lights 
 ready by ten of the clock! Go make haste, or 
 I throw you both into the pot! 
 
 " You, Foret and La Chesnaye, transfer all 
 the New Englanders to the hold of the ship 
 and batten them under! If there s to be fight 
 ing, let the enemies be outside the walls. And 
 you, Ramsay, will keep guard at the river bastion 
 all night! And you, Jack Battle, will gather all 
 the hats and helmets and caps in the fort, and 
 divide them equally between the two front bas 
 tions " 
 
 " Hats and helmets? " interrupts La Ches 
 naye. 
 
 202 
 
BATTLE NOT TO THE STRONG 
 
 " La Chesnaye," says M. Radisson, whirling, 
 " an any one would question me this night he 
 had best pull his tongue out with the tongs! 
 Go, all of you!" 
 
 But Godefroy, ever a dour-headed knave, 
 must test the steel of M. de Radisson s mood. 
 
 " D ye mean me an the pilot to risk crossing 
 the marsh by night 
 
 But he got no farther. M. de Radisson 
 was upon him with a cudgel like a flail on 
 wheat. 
 
 " An you think it risk to go, I ll make it 
 greater risk to stay! An you fear to obey, I ll 
 make you fear more to disobey! An you shirk 
 the pain of toeing the scratch, I ll make it a deal 
 more painful to lag behind! " 
 
 " But at night at night," roared Godefroy 
 between blows. 
 
 " The night knave," hissed out Radisson, 
 " the night is lighter than morning with the 
 north light. The night " this with a last drive 
 "the night is same as day to man of spirit! 
 Tis the sort of encouragement half the world 
 needs to succeed," said M. Radisson, throwing 
 down the cudgel. 
 
 And Godefroy, the skulker, was glad to run 
 for the marsh. The rest of us waited no urgings, 
 but were to our posts on the run. 
 14 203 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 I saw M. Radisson passing fife, piccolo, 
 trumpet, and drum to the two tatterdemalion 
 lads of our army. 
 
 " Now blow like fiends when I give the 
 word," said he. 
 
 Across the courtyard, single file, marched 
 the New Englanders from barracks to boat, La 
 Chesnaye leading with drawn sword, the mar 
 quis following with pointed musket. 
 
 Foret and La Chesnaye then mounted guard 
 at the gate. The sailor of our company was 
 heaping cannon-balls ready for use. Jack Battle 
 scoured the fort for odd headgear. M. de Ra 
 disson was everywhere, seizing papers, burying 
 ammunition, making fast loose stockades, put 
 ting extra rivets in hinges, and issuing quick or 
 ders that sent Jack Battle skipping to the word. 
 Then Jack was set to planting double rows of 
 sticks inside on a level with the wall. The pur 
 pose of these I could not guess till M. Radisson 
 ordered hat, helmet, or cap clapped atop of each 
 pole. 
 
 Oh, we were a formidable army, I warrant 
 you, seen by any one mounting the drift to spy 
 across our walls! 
 
 But twas no burlesque that night, as you 
 may know when I tell you that Governor Brig- 
 dar s forces played us such a trick they were 
 204 
 
BATTLE NOT TO THE STRONG 
 
 under shelter of the ship before we had discov 
 ered them. 
 
 Foret and La Chesnaye were watching from 
 loopholes at the gates, and I was all alert from 
 my place in the bastion. The northern lights 
 waved overhead in a restless ocean of rose-tinted 
 fire. Against the blue, stars were aglint with 
 the twinkle of a million harbour lights. Below, 
 lay the frost mist, white as foam, diaphanous as 
 a veil, every floating icy particle aglimmer with 
 star rays like spray in sunlight. Through the 
 night air came the far howlings of the running 
 wolf-pack. The little ermine, darting across the 
 level with its black tail-tip marking the snow in 
 dots and dashes, would sit up quickly, listen and 
 dive under, to wriggle forward like a snake; or 
 the black-eyed hare would scurry off to cover of 
 brushwood. 
 
 Of a sudden sounded such a yelling from the 
 New Englanders imprisoned in the ship, with a 
 beating of guns on the keel, that I gave quick 
 alarm. Foret and La Chesnaye sallied from the 
 gate. Pistol-shots rang out as they rounded the 
 ship s prow into shadow. At the same instant, 
 a man flung forward out of the frost cloud 
 beating for admittance. M. de Radisson 
 opened. 
 
 "The Indians! The Indians! Where are 
 205 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 the New Englanders? " cried the man, pitching 
 headlong in. 
 
 And when he regained his feet, Governor 
 Brigdar, of the Hudson s Bay Company, stood 
 face to face with M. de Radisson. 
 
 " A right warm welcome, Your Excellency/ 
 bowed M. de Radisson, bolting the gate. " The 
 New Englanders are in safe keeping, sir, and so 
 are you ! " 
 
 The bewildered governor gasped at M. Ra- 
 disson s words. Then he lost all command of 
 himself. 
 
 " Radisson, man," he stormed, " this is no 
 feint this is no time for acting! Six o my men 
 shot on the way four hiding by the ship and 
 the Indians not a hundred yards behind! Take 
 my sword and pistol," he proffered, M. de Radis 
 son still hesitating, " but as you hope for eternal 
 mercy, call in my four men! " 
 
 After that, all was confusion. 
 
 Foret and the marquis rushed pell-mell for 
 the fort with four terrified Englishmen disarmed. 
 The gates were clapped to. Myriad figures 
 darted from the frost mist figures with war 
 paint on their faces and bodies clothed in white 
 to disguise approach. English and French, ene 
 mies all, crouched to the palisades against the 
 206 
 
BATTLE NOT TO THE STRONG 
 
 common foe, with sword-thrust for the hands 
 catching at pickets to scale the wall and volley 
 ing shots that scattered assailants back. The 
 redskins were now plainly visible through the 
 frost. When they swerved away from shelter of 
 the ship, every bastion let go the roar of a can 
 non discharge. There was the sudden silence of 
 a drawing off, then the shrill " Ah o-o-o-oh ! 
 Ah o-o-o-oh! Ah o-o-o-oh!" of Indian war- 
 cry! 
 
 And M. Radisson gave the signal. 
 
 Instantaneously half a hundred lights were 
 aflare. Red tongues of fire darted from the loop 
 holes. Two lads were obeying our leader s call 
 to run run run, blowing fife, beating drum 
 like an army s band, while streams of boiling 
 grease poured down from bastions and lookout. 
 Helmets, hats, and caps sticking round on the 
 poles were lighted up like the heads of a battal 
 ion; and oft as any of us showed himself he 
 displayed fresh cap. One Indian, I mind, got 
 a stockade off and an arm inside the wall. That 
 arm was never withdrawn, for M. Radisson s 
 broadsword came down, and the Indian reeled 
 back with a yelping scream. Then the smoke 
 cleared, and I saw what will stay with me as long 
 as memory lasts M. Radisson, target for ar 
 rows or shot, long hair flying and red doublet 
 207 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 alight in the flare of the torches, was standing 
 on top of the pickets with his right arm wa 
 ving a sword. 
 
 * Whom do you make them out to be, Ram 
 say? " he called. " Is not yon Le Borgne? " 
 
 I looked to the Indians. Le Borgne it was, 
 thin and straight, like a mast-pole through mist, 
 in conference with another man a man with a 
 beard, a man who was no Indian. 
 
 " Sir! " I shouted back. " Those are the in 
 land pirates. They are leading the Indians 
 against Ben Gillam, and not against us at 
 all." 
 
 At that M. Radisson extends a handker 
 chief on the end of his sword as flag of truce, 
 and the bearded man waves back. Down from 
 the wall jumps M. Radisson, running forward 
 fearlessly where Indians lay wounded, and wa 
 ving for the enemy to come. But the two only 
 waved back in friendly fashion, wheeled their 
 forces off, and disappeared through the frost. 
 
 " Those were Ben Gillam s cut-throats trying 
 to do for him! When they saw us on the walls, 
 they knew their mistake," says M. de Radisson 
 as he re-entered the gate. There s only one 
 way to find those pirates out, Ramsay. Nurse 
 these wounded Indians back to life, visit the 
 tribe, and watch! After Chouart s re-enforcc- 
 208 
 
BATTLE NOT TO THE STRONG 
 
 ments come, I ll send you and Jack Battle, with 
 Godefroy for interpreter! " 
 
 To Governor Brigdar and his four refugees 
 M. de Radisson was all courtesy. 
 
 " And how comes Your Excellency to be out 
 so late with ten men? " he asked, as we supped 
 that night. 
 
 " We heard that you were here. We were 
 coming to visit you," stammered Governor 
 Brigdar, growing red. 
 
 " Then let us make you so welcome that you 
 will not hasten away! Here, Jack Battle, here, 
 fellow, stack these gentlemen s swords and pis 
 tols where they ll come to no harm! Ah! No? 
 But I must relieve you, gentlemen! Your com 
 ing was a miracle. I thank you for it. It has 
 saved us much trouble. A pledge to the pleas 
 ure and the length of your stay, gentle 
 men," and they stand to the toast, M. de Radis 
 son smiling at the lights in his wine. 
 
 But we all knew very well what such welcome 
 meant. Twas Radisson s humour to play the 
 host that night, but the runaway lieutenant was 
 a prisoner in our guard-house. 
 
 209 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 WE SEEK THE INLANDERS 
 
 IN the matter of fighting, I find small differ 
 ence between white-men and red. Let the lust 
 of conquest but burn, the justice of the quarrel 
 receives small thought. Your fire-eating proph 
 et cares little for the right of the cause, pro 
 vided the fighter come out conqueror; and 
 many a poet praises only that right which is 
 might over-trampling weakness. I have heard 
 the withered hag of an Indian camp chant as 
 spirited war-song as your minstrels of butchery; 
 but the strange thing of it is, that the people, 
 who have taken the sword in a wantonness of 
 conquest, are the races that have been swept 
 from the face of the earth like dead leaves before 
 the winter blast; but the people, who have held 
 immutably by the power of right, which our 
 Lord Christ set up, the meek and the peace 
 makers and the children of God, these are they 
 that inherit the earth. 
 
 Where are the tribes with whom Godefroy 
 and Jack Battle and I wandered in nomadic life 
 210 
 
WE SEEK THE INLANDERS 
 
 over the northern wastes? Buried in oblivion 
 black as night, but for the lurid memories 
 flashed down to you of later generations. 
 Where are the Puritan folk, with their cast-iron, 
 narrow creeds damning all creation but them 
 selves, with their foibles of snivelling to attest 
 sanctity, with such a wolfish zeal to hound down 
 devils that they hounded innocents for witch 
 craft? Spreading over the face of the New 
 World, making the desert to bloom and the 
 waste places fruitful gardens? And the reason 
 for it all is simply this: Your butchering Indian, 
 like your swashing cavalier, founded his right 
 upon might; your Puritan, grim but faithful, to 
 the outermost bounds of his tragic errors, found 
 ed his might upon right. 
 
 We learn our hardest lessons from unlikeli- 
 est masters. This one came to me from the In 
 dians of the blood-dyed northern snows. 
 
 " Don t show your faces till you have some 
 thing to report about those pirates, who led the 
 Indians," was M. Radisson s last command, as 
 we sallied from the New Englanders fort with a 
 firing of cannon and beating of drums. 
 
 Godefroy, the trader, muttered under his 
 breath that M. Radisson need never fear eternal 
 torment. 
 
 211 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 "Why?" I asked. 
 
 " Because, if he goes there," answered Gode- 
 froy, " hell get the better o the Nick." 
 
 I think the fellow was smarting from recent 
 punishment. He and Allemand, the drunken 
 pilot, had been draining gin kegs on the sly and 
 replacing what they took with snow water. 
 That last morning at prayers Godefroy, who was 
 half-seas over, must yelp out a loud " Amen " 
 in the wrong place. Without rising from his 
 knees, or as much as changing his tone, M. de 
 Radisson brought the drunken knave such a 
 cuff it flattened him to the floor. 
 
 Then prayers went on as before. 
 
 The Indians, whom we had nursed of their 
 wounds, were to lead us to the tribe, one only 
 being held by M. Radisson as hostage for safe 
 conduct. In my mind, that trust to the Indians 
 honour was the single mistake M. Radisson 
 made in the winter s campaign. In the first 
 place, the Indian has no honour. Why should 
 he have, when his only standard of right is con 
 quest? In the second place, kindness is re 
 garded as weakness by the Indian. Why should 
 it not be, when his only god is victory? In the 
 third place, the lust of blood, to kill, to butcher, 
 to mutilate, still surged as hot in their veins as 
 on the night when they had attempted to scale 
 212 
 
WE SEEK THE INLANDERS 
 
 our walls. And again I ask why not, when the 
 law of their life was to kill or to be killed? 
 These questions I put to you because life put 
 them to me. At the time my father died, the 
 gentlemen of King Charles s court were already 
 affecting that refinement of philosophy which 
 justifies despotism. From justifying despotism, 
 twas but a step to justifying the wicked acts of 
 tyranny; and from that, but another step to 
 thrusting God s laws aside as too obsolete for 
 our clever courtiers. " Give your unbroken colt 
 tether enough to pull itself up with one sharp 
 fall," M. Radisson used to say, " and it will 
 never run to the end of its line again." 
 
 The mind of Europe spun the tissue of fool 
 ish philosophy. The savage of the wilderness 
 went the full tether; and I leave you to judge 
 whether the might that is right or the right that 
 is might be the better creed for a people. 
 
 But I do not mean to imply that M. Radis 
 son did not understand the savages better than 
 any man of us in the fort. He risked three men 
 as pawns in the game he was playing for mastery 
 of the fur trade. Gamester of the wilderness as 
 he was, Pierre Radisson was not the man to 
 court a certain loss. 
 
 The Indians led us to the lodges of the hos- 
 tiles safely enough; and their return gave us en- 
 213 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 trance if not welcome to the tepee village. We 
 had entered a ravine and came on a cluster of 
 wigwams to the lee side of a bluff. Dusk hid 
 our approach; and the absence of the dogs that 
 usually infest Indian camps told us that these 
 fellows were marauders. Smoke curled up 
 from the poles crisscrossed at the tepee forks, 
 but we could descry no figures against the tent- 
 walls as in summer, for heavy skins of the chase 
 overlaid the parchment. All was silence but in 
 one wigwam. This was an enormous structure, 
 built on poles long as a mast, with moose-hides 
 scattered so thickly upon it that not a glint of 
 firelight came through except the red glow of 
 smoke at the peak. There was a low hum of 
 suppressed voices, then one voice alone in sol 
 emn tones, then guttural grunts of applause. 
 
 " In council," whispered Godefroy, steering 
 straight for the bearskin that hung flapping 
 across the entrance. 
 
 Bidding Jack Battle stand guard outside, we 
 followed the Indians who had led us from the 
 fort. Lifting the tent-flap, we found ourselves 
 inside. A withered creature with snaky, tangled 
 hair, toothless gums, eyes that burned like em 
 bers, and a haunched, shrivelled figure, stood 
 gesticulating and crooning over a low monotone 
 in the centre of the lodge. 
 214 
 
WE SEEK THE INLANDERS 
 
 As we entered, the draught from the door 
 sent a tongue of flame darting to mid-air from 
 the central fire, and scores of tawny faces with 
 glance intent on the speaker were etched against 
 the dark. These were no camp families, but 
 braves, deep in war council. The elder men sat 
 with crossed feet to the fore of the circle. The 
 young braves were behind, kneeling, standing, 
 and stretched full length. All were smoking 
 their long-stemmed pipes and listening to the 
 medicine-man, or seer, who was crooning his 
 low-toned chant. The air was black with 
 smoke. 
 
 Always audacious, Godefroy, the trader, ad 
 vanced boldly and sat down in the circle. I kept 
 back in shadow, for directly behind the Indian 
 wizard was a figure lying face downward, chin 
 resting in hand, which somehow reminded me 
 of Le Borgne. The fellow rolled lazily over, 
 got to his knees, and stood up. Pushing the 
 wizard aside, this Indian faced the audience. It 
 was Le Borgne, his foxy eye yellow as flame, 
 teeth snapping, and a tongue running at such a 
 pace that we could scarce .make out a word of 
 his jargon. 
 
 " What does he say, Godefroy? " 
 
 "Sit down," whispered the trader, " you are 
 safe." 
 
 21$ 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 This was what the Indian was saying as 
 Godefroy muttered it over to me: 
 
 " Were the Indians fools and dogs to throw 
 away two fish for the sake of one? The French 
 were friends of the Indians. Let the Indians 
 find out what the French would give them 
 for killing the English. He, Le Borgne, the 
 one-eyed, was brave. He would go to the 
 Frenchman s fort and spy out how strong they 
 were. If the French gave them muskets for 
 killing the English, after the ships left in the 
 spring the Indians could attack the fort and kill 
 the French. The great medicine-man, the white 
 hunter, who lived under the earth, would supply 
 them with muskets " 
 
 " He says the white hunter who lives under 
 the earth is giving them muskets to make war," 
 whispered Godefroy. " That must be the pi 
 rate." 
 
 "Listen!" 
 
 " Let the braves prepare to meet the In 
 dians of the Land of Little White Sticks, who 
 were coming with furs for the white men " 
 Le Borgne went on. 
 
 " Let the braves send their runners over 
 
 the hills to the Little White Sticks sleeping in 
 
 the sheltered valley. Let the braves creep 
 
 through the mist of the morning like the lynx 
 
 216 
 
WE SEEK THE INLANDERS 
 
 seeking the ermine. And when the Little White 
 Sticks were all asleep, the runners would shoot 
 fire arrows into the air and the braves would 
 slay slay slay the men, who might fight, the 
 women, who might run to the whites for aid, 
 and the children, who might live to tell tales." 
 
 "The devils!" says Godefroy under his 
 breath. 
 
 A log broke on the coals with a flare that 
 painted Le Borgne s evil face fiery red; and the 
 fellow gabbled on, with figure crouching stealth 
 ily forward, foxy eye alight with evil, and teeth 
 glistening. 
 
 " Let the braves seize the furs of the Little 
 White Sticks, trade the furs to the white-man 
 for muskets, massacre the English, then when 
 the great white chiefs big canoes left, kill the 
 Frenchmen of the fort." 
 
 " Ha," says Godefroy. " Jack s safe outside! 
 We ll have a care to serve you through the loop 
 holes, and trade you only broken muskets! " 
 
 A guttural grunt applauded Le Borgne s 
 advice, and the crafty scoundrel continued: 
 
 " The great medicine-man, the white hunter, 
 who lived under the earth, was their friend. 
 Was he not here among them? Let the braves 
 hear what he advised." 
 
 The Indians grunted their approbation. 
 217 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 Some one stirred the fire to flame. There 
 was a shuffling movement among the figures in 
 the dark. Involuntarily Godefroy and I had 
 risen to our feet. Emerging from the dusk to 
 the firelight was a white man, gaudily clothed in 
 tunic of scarlet with steel breastplates and gold 
 lace enough for an ambassador. His face was 
 hidden by Le Borgne s form. Godefroy 
 pushed too far forward; for the next thing, a 
 shout of rage rent the tent roof. Le Borgne 
 was stamping out the fire. A red form with 
 averted face raced round the lodge wall to gain 
 the door. Then Godefroy and I were standing 
 weapons in hand, with the band of infuriated 
 braves brandishing tomahawks about our heads. 
 Le Borgne broke through the circle and con 
 fronted us with his face agleam. 
 
 " Le Borgne, you rascal, is this a way to 
 treat your friends? " I demanded. 
 
 " What you come for? " slowly snarled Le 
 Borgne through set teeth. 
 
 " To bring back your wounded and for furs, 
 you fool," cried Godefroy, " and if you don t 
 call your braves off, you can sell no more pelts 
 to the French." 
 
 Le Borgne gabbled out something that 
 drove the braves back. 
 
 " We have no furs yet," said he. 
 218 
 
WE SEEK THE INLANDERS 
 
 " But you will have them when you raid the 
 Little White Sticks," raged Godefroy, caring 
 nothing for the harm his words might work if 
 he saved his own scalp. 
 
 Le Borgne drew off to confer with the 
 braves. Then he came back and there was a 
 treacherous smile of welcome on his bronze 
 face. 
 
 The Indians thought the white-men spies 
 from the Little White Sticks," he explained in 
 the mellow, rhythmic tones of the redman. 
 * The Indians were in war council. The In 
 dians are friends of the French." 
 
 " Look out for him, Godefroy," said I. 
 
 " If the French are friends to the Indians, let 
 the white-men come to battle against the Little 
 White Sticks," added Le Borgne. 
 
 "Tell him no! We ll wait here till they 
 come back! " 
 
 " He says they are not coming back," an 
 swered Godefroy, " and hang me, Ramsay, an 
 I d not face an Indian massacre before I go back 
 empty-handed to M. Radisson. We re in for it," 
 says he, speaking English too quick for Le 
 Borgne s ear. " If we show the white feather 
 now, they ll finish us. They ll not harm us till 
 they ve done for the English and got more mus 
 kets. And that red pirate is after these same 
 is 219 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 furs! Body o me, an you hang back, scared o 
 battle, you d best not come to the wilderness." 
 
 " The white-men will go with the Indians, 
 but the white-men will not fight with the Little 
 Sticks," announced Godefroy to Le Borgne, 
 proffering tobacco enough to pacify the tribe. 
 
 Twas in vain that I expostulated against the 
 risk of going far inland with hostiles, who had 
 attacked the New England fort and were even 
 now planning the slaughter of white-men. In- 
 offensiveness is the most deadly of offences 
 with savagery, whether the savagery be of white 
 men or red. Le Borgne had the insolence to 
 ask why the tribe could not as easily kill us 
 where we were as farther inland; and we saw 
 that remonstrances were working the evil that 
 we wished to avoid increasing the Indians 
 daring. After all, Godefroy was right. The 
 man who fears death should neither go to the 
 wilderness nor launch his canoe above a whirl 
 pool unless he is prepared to run the rapids. 
 This New World had never been won from 
 darkness if men had hung back from fear of spilt 
 blood. 
 
 Twas but a moment s work for the braves 
 
 to deck out in war-gear. Faces were blackened 
 
 with red streaks typifying wounds; bodies clad 
 
 in caribou skins or ermine-pelts white as the 
 
 220 
 
WE SEEK THE INLANDERS 
 
 snow to be crossed; quivers of barbed and poi 
 sonous arrows hanging over their backs in otter 
 and beaver skins; powder in buffalo-horns for 
 those who had muskets; shields of toughened 
 hide on one arm, and such a number of scalp- 
 locks fringing every seam as told their own 
 story of murderous foray. While the land still 
 smoked under morning frost and the stars yet 
 pricked through the gray darkness, the war 
 riors were far afield coasting the snow-billows 
 as on tireless wings. Up the swelling drifts 
 water-waved by wind like a rolling sea, down 
 cliffs crumbling over with snowy cornices, across 
 the icy marshes swept glare by the gales, the 
 braves pressed relentlessly on. Godefroy, Jack 
 Battle, and I would have hung to the rear and 
 slipped away if we could; but the fate of an old 
 man was warning enough. Muttering against 
 the braves for embroiling themselves in war 
 without cause, he fell away from the marauders 
 as if to leave. Le Borgne s foxy eye saw the 
 move. Turning, he rushed at the old man with 
 a hiss of air through his teeth like a whistling 
 arrow. His musket swung up. It clubbed 
 down. There was a groan; and as we rounded a 
 bluff at a pace that brought the air cutting in 
 our faces, I saw the old man s body lying mo 
 tionless on the snow. 
 
 221 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 If this was the beginning, what was the end? 
 
 Godefroy vowed that the man was only an 
 Indian, and his death was no sin. 
 
 " The wolves would a picked his bones soon 
 anyway. He wore a score o scalps at his belt. 
 Pah, an we could get furs without any Indians, 
 Fd see all their skulls go! " snapped the trader. 
 
 " If killing s no murder, whose turn comes 
 next? " asked Jack. 
 
 And that gave Godefroy pause. 
 
 222 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 A BOOTLESS SACRIFICE 
 
 FOR what I now tell I offer no excuse. I 
 would but record what savagery meant. Then 
 may you who are descended from the New 
 World pioneers know that your lineage is from 
 men as heroic as those crusaders who rescued 
 our Saviour s grave from the pagans; for cru 
 saders of Old World and New carried the 
 sword of destruction in one hand, but in the 
 other, a cross that was light in darkness. Then 
 may you, my lady-fingered sentimentalist, who 
 go to bed of a winter night with a warming- 
 pan and champion the rights of the savage 
 from your soft place among cushions, realize 
 what a fine hero your redman was, and realize, 
 too, what were the powers that the white-man 
 crushed! 
 
 For what I do not tell I offer no excuse. It 
 
 is not permitted to relate all that savage warfare 
 
 meant. Once I marvelled that a just God could 
 
 order his chosen people to exterminate any 
 
 223 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 race. Now I marvel that a just God hath not 
 exterminated many races long ago. 
 
 We reached the crest of a swelling upland as 
 the first sun-rays came through the frost mist 
 in shafts of fire. A quick halt was called. One 
 white-garbed scout went crawling stealthily 
 down the snow-slope like a mountain-cat. Then 
 the frost thinned to the rising sun and vague 
 outlines of tepee lodges could be descried in the 
 clouded valley. 
 
 An arrow whistled through the air glancing 
 into snow with a soft whirr at our feet. It was 
 the signal. As with one thought, the warriors 
 charged down the hill, leaping from side to side 
 in a frenzy, dancing in a madness of slaughter, 
 shrieking their long, shrill "Ah oh! Ah 
 oh ! " yelping, howling, screaming their war- 
 cry __ Ah oh! Ah oh! Ah oh ! " like 
 demons incarnate. The medicine - man had 
 stripped himself naked and was tossing his arms 
 with maniacal fury, leaping up and down, yell 
 ing the war-cry, beating the tom-tom, rattling 
 the death-gourd. Some of the warriors went 
 down on hands and feet, sidling forward through 
 the mist like the stealthy beasts of prey that they 
 were. 
 
 Godefroy, Jack Battle, and I were carried be 
 fore the charge helpless as leaves in a hurricane. 
 224 
 
A BOOTLESS SACRIFICE 
 
 All slid down the hillside to the bottom of a 
 ravine. With the long bound of a tiger- 
 spring, Le Borgne plunged through the frost 
 cloud. 
 
 The lodges of the victims were about us. We 
 had evidently come upon the tribe when all were 
 asleep. 
 
 Then that dark under-world of which men 
 dream in wild delirium became reality. Pande 
 monium broke its bounds. 
 
 And had I once thought that Eli Kirke s fa 
 natic faith painted too lurid a hell? God knows 
 if the realm of darkness be half as hideous as the 
 deeds of this life, tis blacker than prophet may 
 portray. 
 
 Day or night, after fifty years, do I close my 
 eyes to shut the memory out! But the shafts are 
 still hurlting through the gray gloom. Arrows 
 rip against the skin shields. Running fugitives 
 fall pierced. Men rush from their lodges in the 
 daze of sleep and fight barehanded against mus 
 ket and battle-axe and lance till the snows are 
 red and scalps steaming from the belts of con 
 querors. Women fall to the feet of the victors, 
 kneeling, crouching, dumbly pleading for mercy; 
 and the mercy is a spear-thrust that pinions the 
 living body to earth. Maimed, helpless and liv- 
 225 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 ing victims are thrown aside to await slow death. 
 Children are torn from their mothers arms but 
 there memory revolts and the pen fails! 
 
 It was in vain for us to flee. Turn where we 
 would, pursued and pursuer were there. 
 
 " Don t flinch ! Don t flinch ! " Godefroy 
 kept shouting. "They ll take it for fear! 
 They ll kill you by torture! " 
 
 Almost on the words a bowstring twanged to 
 the fore and a young girl stumbled across Jack 
 Battle s feet with a scream that rings, and 
 rings, and rings in memory like the tocsin of a 
 horrible dream. She was wounded in the shoul 
 der. Getting to her knees she threw her arms 
 round Jack with such a terrified look of helpless 
 pleading in her great eyes as would have moved 
 stone. 
 
 "Don t touch her! Don t touch her! Don t 
 touch her! " screamed Godefroy, jerking to pull 
 Jack free. " It will do no good! Don t help 
 her! They ll kill you both " 
 
 "Great God!" sobbed Jack, with shivering 
 horror, " I can t help helping her " 
 
 But there leaped from the mist a figure with 
 uplifted spear. 
 
 May God forgive it, but I struck that man 
 dead! 
 
 It was a bootless sacrifice at the risk of three 
 226 
 
A BOOTLESS SACRIFICE 
 
 lives. But so was Christ s a bootless sacrifice at 
 the time, if you measure deeds by gain. And so 
 has every sacrifice worthy of the name been a 
 bootless sacrifice, if you stop to weigh life in a 
 goldsmith s scale! 
 
 Justice is blind; but praise be to God, so is 
 mercy! 
 
 And, indeed, I have but quoted our Lord 
 and Saviour, not as an example, but as a prece 
 dent. For the act I merited no credit. Like 
 Jack, I could not have helped helping her. The 
 act was out before the thought. 
 
 Then we were back to back fighting a horde 
 of demons. 
 
 Godefroy fought cursing our souls to all eter 
 nity for embroiling him in peril. Jack Bat 
 tle fought mumbling feverishly, deliriously, un 
 conscious of how he shot or what he said 
 " Might as well die here as elsewhere! Might as 
 well die here as elsewhere! Damn that Indian! 
 Give it to him, Ramsay! You shoot while I 
 prime! Might as well die here as else 
 where " 
 
 And all fought resolute to die hard, when, 
 where, or how the dying came! 
 
 To that desperate game there was but one 
 possible end. It is only in story-books writ for 
 sentimental maids that the good who are weak 
 227 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 defeat the wicked who are strong. We shattered 
 many an assailant before the last stake was 
 dared, but in the end they shattered my sword- 
 arm, which left me helpless as a hull at ebb-tide. 
 Then Godefroy, the craven rascal, must throw 
 up his arms for surrender, which gave Le 
 Borgne opening to bring down the butt of his 
 gun on Jack s crown. 
 
 The poor sailor went bundling over the snow 
 like a shot rabbit. 
 
 When the frost smoke cleared, there was 
 such a scene as I may not paint; for you must 
 know that your Indian hero is not content to 
 kill. Like the ghoul, he must mutilate. Of all 
 the Indian band attacked by our forces, not one 
 escaped except the girl, whose form I could 
 descry nowhere on the stained snow. 
 
 Jack Battle presently regained his senses and 
 staggered up to have his arms thonged behind 
 his back. The thongs on my arms they tight 
 ened with a stick through the loop to extort cry 
 of pain as the sinew cut into the shattered 
 wrist. An the smile had cost my last breath, I 
 would have defied their tortures with a laugh. 
 They got no cry from me. Godefroy, the trader, 
 cursed us in one breath and in the next threat 
 ened that the Indians would keep us for tor 
 ture. 
 
 22g 
 
A BOOTLESS SACRIFICE 
 
 " You are the only man who can speak their 
 language," I retorted. " Stop whimpering and 
 warn these brutes what Radisson will do if they 
 harm us! He will neither take their furs nor 
 give them muskets! He will arm their enemies 
 to destroy them! Tell them that! " 
 
 But as well talk to tigers. Le Borgne alone 
 listened, his foxy glance fastened on my face 
 with a strange, watchful look, neither hostile nor 
 friendly. To Godefroy s threats the Indian an 
 swered that " white-man talk not true of all," 
 pointing to Jack Battle, " him no friend great 
 white chief him captive- 
 Then Godefroy burst out with the unworthi- 
 est answer that ever passed man s lips. 
 
 " Of course he s a captive," screamed the 
 trader, " then take him and torture him and let 
 us go! Twas him stopped the Indian getting 
 the girl!" 
 
 " Le Borgne," I cut in sharply, " Le Borgne, 
 it was I who stopped the Indian killing the girl! 
 You need not torture the little white-man. He 
 is a good man. He is the friend of the great 
 white chief." 
 
 But Le Borgne showed no interest. While 
 
 the others stripped the dead and wreaked their 
 
 ghoulish work, Le Borgne gathered up the 
 
 furs of the Little Sticks and with two or three 
 
 229 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 young men stole away over the crest of the 
 hill. 
 
 Then the hostiles left the dead and the half- 
 dead for the wolves. 
 
 Prodded forward by lance-thrusts, we began 
 the weary march back to the lodges. The sun 
 sank on the snowy wastes red as a shield of 
 blood; and with the early dusk of the northern 
 night purpling the shadowy fields in mist came 
 a south wind that filled the desolate silence with 
 restless wailings as of lament for eternal wrong, 
 moaning and sighing and rustling past like in 
 visible spirits that find no peace. 
 
 Some of the Indians laid hands to thin lips 
 with a low " Hs-s-h," and the whole band 
 quickened pace. Before twilight had deepened 
 to the dark that precedes the silver glow of the 
 moon and stars and northern lights, we were 
 back where Le Borgne had killed the old man. 
 The very snow had been picked clean, and 
 through the purple gloom far back prowled 
 vague forms. 
 
 Jack Battle and I looked at each other, but 
 the Indian fellow, who was our guard, emitted a 
 harsh, rasping laugh. As for Godefroy, he was 
 marching abreast of the braves gabbling a mum 
 ble-jumble of pleadings and threats, which, I 
 know very well, ignored poor Jack. Godefroy 
 230 
 
A BOOTLESS SACRIFICE 
 
 would make a scapegoat of the weak to save 
 his own neck, and small good his cowardice did 
 him! 
 
 The moon was high in mid-heaven flooding 
 a white world when we reached the lodges. We 
 three were placed under guards, while the war 
 riors feasted their triumph and danced the 
 scalp-dance to drive away the spirits of the dead. 
 To beat of tom-tom and shriek of gourd-rattles, 
 the whole terrible scene was re-enacted. Strip 
 ping himself naked, but for his moccasins, the old 
 wizard pranced up and down like a fiend in the 
 midst of the circling dancers. Flaming torches 
 smoked from poles in front of the lodges, or were 
 waved and tossed by the braves. Flaunting 
 fresh scalps from lance-heads, with tomahawk 
 in the other hand, each warrior went through all 
 the fiendish moves and feints of attack prowl 
 ing on knees, uttering the yelping, wolfish yells, 
 crouching for the leap, springing through mid 
 air, brandishing the battle-axe, stamping upon 
 the imaginary prostrate foe, stooping with a 
 glint of the scalping knife, then up, with a shout 
 of triumph and the scalp waving from the lance, 
 all in time to the dull thum thum thum of the 
 tom-tom and the screaming chant of the wizard. 
 Still the south wind moaned about the lodges; 
 and the dancers shouted the louder to drown 
 231 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 those ghost-cries of the dead. Faster and faster 
 beat the drum. Swifter and swifter darted the 
 braves, hacking their own flesh in a frenzy of fear 
 till their shrieks out-screamed the wind. 
 1 Then the spirits were deemed appeased. 
 
 The mad orgy of horrors was over, but the 
 dancers were too exhausted for the torture of 
 prisoners. The older men came to the lodge 
 where we were guarded and Godefroy again be 
 gan his importunings. 
 
 Setting Jack Battle aside, they bade the 
 trader and me come out. 
 
 " Better one be tortured than three," heart 
 lessly muttered Godefroy to Jack. " Now they ll 
 set us free for fear of M. Radisson, and we ll come 
 back for you." 
 
 But Godefroy had miscalculated the effects 
 of his threats. At the door stood a score of 
 warriors who had not been to the massacre. If 
 we hoped to escape torture the wizard bade us 
 follow these men. They led us away with a sinis 
 ter silence. When we reached the crest of the 
 hill, half-way between the lodges and the massa 
 cre, Godefroy took alarm. This was not the 
 direction of our fort. The trader shouted out 
 that M. Radisson would punish them well if they 
 did us harm. At that one of the taciturn fellows 
 turned. They would take care to do us no harm, 
 232 
 
A BOOTLESS SACRIFICE 
 
 he said, with an evil laugh. On the ridge of the 
 hill they paused, as if seeking a mark. Two 
 spindly wind-stripped trees stood straight as 
 mast-poles above the snow. The leader went 
 forward to examine the bark for Indian signal, 
 motioning Godefroy and me closer as he exam 
 ined the trees. 
 
 With the whistle of a whip-lash through air 
 the thongs were about us, round and round 
 ankle, neck, and arms, binding us fast. Gode 
 froy shouted out a blasphemous oath and strug 
 gled till the deer sinew cut his buckskin. I had 
 only succeeded in wheeling to face our treacher 
 ous tormentors when the strands tightened. In 
 the struggle the trader had somehow got his 
 face to the bark. The coils circled round him. 
 The thongs drew close. The Indians stood back. 
 They had done what they came to do. They 
 would not harm us, they taunted, pointing to 
 the frost-silvered valley, where lay the dead of 
 their morning crime. 
 
 Then with harsh gibes, the warriors ran 
 down the hillside, leaving us bound. 
 
 233 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 FACING THE END 
 
 BELOW the hill on one side flickered the 
 moving torches of the hostiles. On the other 
 side, where the cliff fell sheer away, lay the red- 
 dyed snows with misty shapes moving through 
 the frosty valley. 
 
 A wind of sighs swept across the white 
 wastes. Short, sharp barkings rose from the 
 shadowy depth of the ravine. Then the silence 
 of desolation . . . then the moaning night-wind 
 . . . then the shivering cry of- the wolf-pack 
 scouring on nightly hunt. 
 
 For a moment neither Godefroy nor I spoke. 
 Then the sinews, cutting deep, wakened con 
 sciousness. 
 
 " Are they gone? " asked Godefroy hoarsely. 
 
 " Yes," said I, glancing to the valley. 
 
 " Can t you break through the thongs and 
 get a hand free? " 
 
 " My back is to the tree. We ll have to face 
 it, Godefroy don t break down, man ! We must 
 face it!" 
 
 234 
 
FACING THE END 
 
 " Face what? " he shuddered out. " Is any 
 thing there? Face what? " he half screamed. 
 
 "The end!" 
 
 He strained at the thongs till he had strength 
 to strain no more. Then he broke out in a vol 
 ley of maledictions at Jack Battle and me for in 
 terfering with the massacre, to which I could 
 answer never a word; for the motives that merit 
 greatest applause when they succeed, win bitter 
 est curses when they fail. 
 
 The northern lights swung low. Once those 
 lights seemed censers of flame to an invisible 
 God. Now they shot across the steel sky like 
 fiery serpents, and the rustling of their fire was 
 as the hiss when a fang strikes. A shooting star 
 blazed into light against the blue, then dropped 
 into the eternal darkness. 
 
 " Godefroy," I asked, " how long will this 
 last? " 
 
 " Till the wolves come," said he huskily. 
 
 " A man must die some time," I called back; 
 but my voice belied the bravery of the words, for 
 something gray loomed from the ravine and 
 stood stealthily motionless in the dusk behind 
 the trader. Involuntarily a quick "Hist!" 
 went from my lips. 
 
 " What s that ? " shouted Godefroy. " Is 
 anything there? " 
 
 16 235 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " I am cold," said I. 
 
 And on top of that lie I prayed prayed with 
 wide-staring eyes on the thing whose head had 
 turned towards us prayed as I have never 
 prayed before or since! 
 
 " Are you sure there s nothing? " cried the 
 trader. " Look on both sides! I m sure I feel 
 something! " 
 
 Another crouching form emerged from the 
 gloom then another and another silent and 
 still as spectres. With a sidling motion they 
 prowled nearer, sniffing the air, shifting watchful 
 look from Godefroy to me, from me to Gode- 
 froy. A green eye gleamed nearer through the 
 mist. Then I knew. 
 
 The wolves had come. 
 
 Godefroy screamed out that he heard some 
 thing, and again bade me look on both sides of 
 the hill. 
 
 " Keep quiet till I see," said I; but I never 
 took my gaze from the green eyes of a great 
 brute to the fore of the gathering pack. 
 
 "But I feel them but I hear them!" 
 shouted Godefroy, in an agony of terror. 
 
 What gain to keep up pretence longer? 
 Still holding the beast back with no other power 
 than the power of the man s eye over the brute, 
 I called out the truth to the trader. 
 236 
 
FACING THE END 
 
 "Don t move! Don t speak! Don t cry 
 out! Perhaps we can stare them back till day 
 light comes! " 
 
 Godefroy held quiet as death. Some subtle 
 power of the man over the brute puzzled the 
 leader of the pack. He shook his great head 
 with angry snarls and slunk from side to side to 
 evade the human eye, every hair of his fur bris 
 tling. Then he threw up his jaws and uttered a 
 long howl, answered by the far cry of the com 
 ing pack. Sniffing the ground, he began cir 
 cling closing in closing in 
 
 Then there was a shout a groan, a struggle 
 a rip as of teeth from Godefroy s place! 
 
 Then with naught but a blazing of comets 
 dropping into an everlasting dark, with naught 
 but a ship of fire billowing away to the flame of 
 the northern lights, with naught but the rush of 
 a sea, blinding, deafening, bearing me to the 
 engulfment of the eternal I lost knowledge of 
 this life! 
 
 237 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 AFTERWARD 
 
 A LONG shudder, and I had awakened in sti 
 fling darkness. Was I dreaming, or were there 
 voices, English voices, talking about me? 
 
 " It was too late! He will die! " 
 
 " Draw back the curtain! Give him plenty 
 of air! " 
 
 In the daze of a misty dream, M. Picot was 
 there with the foils in his hands; and Hortense 
 had cried out as she did that night when the 
 button touched home. A sweet, fresh gust blew 
 across my face with a faint odour of the pungent 
 flames that used to flicker under the crucibles 
 of the dispensary. How came I to be lying in 
 Boston Town? Was M. Radisson a myth? 
 Was the northland a dream? 
 
 I tried to rise, but whelming shadows pushed 
 me down; and through the dark shifted phan 
 tom faces. 
 
 Now it was M. Radisson quelling mutiny, 
 tossed on plunging ice-drift, scouring before the 
 238 
 
AFTERWARD 
 
 hurricane, leaping through red flame over the 
 fort wall, while wind and sea crooned a chorus 
 like the hum of soldiers singing and marching to 
 battle. " Storm and cold, man and beast, pow 
 ers of darkness and devil he must fight them 
 all," sang the gale. " Who? " asked a voice. 
 In the dark was a lone figure clinging to the 
 spars of a wreck. " The victor," shrieked the 
 wind. Then the waves washed over the cast 
 away, leaving naught but the screaming gale 
 and the pounding seas and the eternal dark. 
 
 Or it was M. Picot, fencing in mid-room. 
 Of a sudden, foils turn to swords, M. Picot to a 
 masked man, and Boston to the northland for 
 est. I fall, and when I awaken M. Picot is 
 standing, candle in hand, tincturing my wounds. 
 
 Or the dark is filled with a multitude men 
 and beasts; and the beasts wear a crown of vic 
 tory and the men are drunk with the blood of 
 the slain. 
 
 Or stealthy, crouching, wolfish forms steal 
 through the frost mist, closer and closer till 
 there comes a shout a groan a rip as of teeth 
 then I am up, struggling with Le Borgne, the 
 one-eyed, who pushes me back to a couch in the 
 dark. 
 
 Like the faces that hover above battle in sol 
 diers dreams was a white face framed in curls 
 239 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 with lustrous eyes full of lights. Always when 
 the darkness thickened and I began slipping 
 slipping into the folds of bottomless deeps al 
 ways the face came from the gloom, like a star 
 of hope; and the hope drew me back. 
 
 " There is nothing nothing nothing at all 
 to fear," says the face. 
 
 And I laugh at the absurdity of the dream. 
 
 " To think of dreaming that Hortense would 
 be here would be in the northland Hortense, 
 the little queen, who never would let me tell 
 her- 
 
 " Tell her what? " asks the face. 
 
 " Hah! What a question! There is only 
 one thing in all this world to tell her! " 
 
 And I laughed again till I thought there 
 must be some elf scrambling among the rafters 
 of that smothery ceiling. It seemed so absurd 
 to be thrilled with love of Hortense with the 
 breath of the wolves yet hot in one s face! 
 
 "The wolves got Godefroy," I would rea 
 son, " how didn t they get me? How did I get 
 away? What was that smell of fur " 
 
 Then some one was throwing fur robes from 
 the couch. The phantom Hortense kneeled at 
 the pillow. 
 
 " There are no wolves it was only the 
 robe," she says. 
 
 240 
 
AFTERWARD 
 
 " And I suppose you will be telling me there 
 are no Indians up there among the rafters? " 
 
 " Give me the candle. Go away, Le Borgne! 
 Leave me alone with him," says the face in the 
 gloom. " Look," says the shadow, " I am Hor- 
 tense!" 
 
 A torch was in her hand and the light fell on 
 her face. I was as certain that she knelt beside 
 me as I was that I lay helpless to rise. But 
 the trouble was, I was equally certain there were 
 wolves skulking through the dark and Indians 
 skipping among the rafters. 
 
 " Ghosts haven t hands," says Hortense, 
 touching mine lightly; and the touch brought 
 the memory of those old mocking airs from the 
 spinet. 
 
 Was it flood of memory or a sick man s 
 dream? The presence seemed so real that mus 
 tering all strength, I turned turned to see Le 
 Borgne, the one-eyed, sitting on a log-end with 
 a stolid, watchful, unreadable look on his crafty 
 face. 
 
 Bluish shafts of light struck athwart the 
 dark. A fire burned against the far wall. The 
 smoke had the pungent bark smell of the flame 
 that used to burn in M. Picot s dispensary. 
 This, then, had brought the dreams of Hortense, 
 now so far away. Skins hung everywhere; but 
 241 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 in places the earth showed through. Like a 
 gleam of sunlight through dark came the 
 thought this was a cave, the cave of the pi 
 rates whose voices I had heard from the ground 
 that night in the forest, one pleading to save 
 me, the other sending Le Borgne to trap me. 
 
 Leaning on my elbow, I looked from the 
 Indian to a bearskin partition hiding another 
 apartment. Le Borgne had carried the stolen 
 pelts of the massacred tribe to the inland pirates. 
 The pirates had sent him back for me. 
 
 And Hortense was a dream. Ah, well, men 
 in their senses might have done worse than 
 dream of a Hortense! 
 
 But the voice and the hand were real. 
 
 " Le Borgne," I ask, " was any one here? " 
 
 Le Borgne s cheeks corrugate in wrinkles of 
 bronze that leer an evil laugh, and he pretends 
 not to understand. 
 
 " Le Borgne, was any one here with you? " 
 
 Le Borgne shifts his spread feet, mutters a 
 guttural grunt, and puffs out his torch; but the 
 shafted flame reveals his shadow. I can still hear 
 him beside me in the dark. 
 
 " Le Borgne is the great white chiefs 
 friend," I say; " and the white-man is the 
 great white chiefs friend. Where are we, Le 
 Borgne? " 
 
 242 
 
AFTERWARD 
 
 Le Borgne grunts out a low huff-huff of a 
 laugh. 
 
 " Here; white-man is here," says Le Borgne; 
 and he shuffles away to the bearskin partition 
 hiding another apartment. 
 
 Ah well as I said, one might do worse than 
 dream of Hortense. But in spite of all your phi 
 losophers say about there being no world but 
 the world we spin in our brains, I could not woo 
 my lady back to it. Like the wind that bloweth 
 where it listeth was my love. Try as I might to 
 call up that pretty deceit of a Hortense about 
 me in spirit, my perverse lady came not to 
 the call. 
 
 Then, thoughts would race back to the mu 
 tiny on the stormy sea, to the roar of the break 
 ers crashing over decks, to M. Radisson leaping 
 up from dripping wreckage, muttering between 
 his teeth " Blind god o chance, they may 
 crush, but they shall not conquer; they may kill, 
 but I snap my fingers in their faces to the 
 death!" 
 
 Then, uncalled, through the darkness comes 
 her face. 
 
 " God is love," says she. 
 
 If I lie there like a log, never moving, she 
 seems to stay; but if I feel out through the dark 
 ness for the grip of a living hand, for the sub- 
 243 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 stance of a reality on which souls anchor, like 
 the shadow of a dream she is gone. 
 
 I mind once in the misty region between 
 delirium and consciousness, when the face 
 slipped from me like a fading light, I called out 
 eagerly that love was a phantom; for her God of 
 love had left me to the blind gods that crush, to 
 the storm and the dark and the ravening wolves. 
 
 Like a light flaming from dark, the face 
 shone through the gloom. 
 
 " Love, a phantom," laughs the mocking 
 voice of the imperious Hortense I knew long 
 ago; and the thrill of her laugh proves love the 
 realest phantom life can know. 
 
 Then the child Hortense becomes of a sud 
 den the grown woman, grave and sweet, with 
 eyes in the dark like stars, and strange, broken 
 thoughts I had not dared to hope shining un 
 spoken on her face. 
 
 " Life, a phantom substance, the shadow 
 love, the all," the dream-face seems to be 
 saying. " Events are God s thoughts storms 
 and darkness and prey are his puppets, the 
 blind gods, his slaves God is love; for you are 
 here! . . . You are here! . . . You are here 
 with me!" 
 
 When I feel through the dark thii time is 
 the grip of a living hand. 
 244 
 
AFTERWARD 
 
 Then we lock arms and sweep through 
 space, the northern lights curtaining overhead, 
 the stars for torches, and the blazing comets 
 heralding a way. 
 
 "The very stars in their courses fight for 
 us," says Hortense. 
 
 And I, with an earthy intellect groping be 
 hind the winged love of the woman, think that 
 she refers to some of M. Picot s mystic astrol 
 ogies. 
 
 " No no," says the dream-face, with the 
 love that divines without speech, " do you not 
 understand? The stars fight for us because 
 because " 
 
 " Because God is love," catching the gleam 
 of the thought; and the stars that fight in their 
 courses for mortals sweep to a noonday splen 
 dour. 
 
 And all the while I was but a crazy dreamer 
 lying captive, wounded and weak in a pirate 
 cave. Oh, yes, I know very well what my fine 
 gentlemen dabblers in the new sciences will say 
 the fellow was daft and delirious he had lost 
 grip on reality and his fevered wits mixed a 
 mumble-jumble of ancient symbolism with his 
 own adventures. But before you reduce all this 
 great universe to the dimensions of a chemist s 
 crucible, I pray you to think twice whether the 
 345 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 mind that fashioned the crucible be not greater 
 than the crucible; whether the Master-mind that 
 shaped the laws of the universe be not greater 
 than the universe; whether when man s mind 
 loses grip as you call it of the little, nag 
 ging, insistent realities it may not leap free like 
 the jagged lightnings from peak to peak of a con 
 sciousness that overtowers life s commoner lev 
 els! Spite of our boastings, each knows neither 
 more nor less than life hath taught him. For me, 
 I know what the dream-voice spoke proved true: 
 life, the shadow of a great reality; love, the all; 
 the blind gods of storm and dark and prey, the 
 puppets of the God of gods, working his will; 
 and the God of gods a God of love, realest when 
 love is near. 
 
 Once, I mind, the dark seemed alive with 
 wolfish shades, sniffing, prowling, circling, 
 creeping nearer like that monster wolf of fable 
 set on by the powers of evil to hunt Man to his 
 doom. A nightmare of fear bound me down. 
 The death-frosts settled and tightened and 
 closed but suddenly, Hortense took cold 
 hands in her palms, calling and calling and call 
 ing me back to life and hope and her. Then I 
 waked. 
 
 Though I peopled the mist with many shad 
 ows, Le Borgne alone stood there. 
 246 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 WHO THE PIRATES WERE 
 
 How long I lay in the pirates cave I could 
 not tell; for day and night were alike with the 
 pale-blue flame quivering against the earth-wall, 
 gusts of cold air sweeping through the door, low- 
 whispered talks from the inner cave. 
 
 At last I surprised Le Borgne mightily by 
 sitting bolt upright and bidding him bring me a 
 meal of buffalo-tongue or teal. With the stolid 
 repartee of the Indian he grunted back that I 
 had tongue enough; but he brought the stuff 
 with no ill grace. After that he had much ado 
 to keep me off my feet. Finally, I promised by 
 the soul of his grandfather neither to spy nor lis 
 ten about the doors of the inner cave, and he let 
 me up for an hour at a time to practise walking 
 with the. aid of a lance-pole. As he found that 
 I kept my word, he trusted me alone in the cave, 
 sitting crouched on the log-end with a buckskin 
 sling round my shattered sword-arm, which the 
 wolves had not helped that night at the stake. 
 247 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 In the food Le Borgne brought was always a 
 flavour of simples or drugs. One night at least 
 I supposed it was night from the chill of the air 
 blowing past the bearskin just as Le Borgne 
 stooped to serve me, his torch flickered out. 
 Before he could relight, I had poured the broth 
 out and handed back an empty bowl. 
 
 Then I lay with eyes tight shut and senses 
 wide awake. The Indian sat on the log-end 
 watching. I did not stir. Neither did I fall 
 asleep as usual. The Indian cautiously passed a 
 candle across my face. I lay motionless as I had 
 been drugged. At that he stalked off. Voices 
 began in the other apartment. Two or three 
 forms went tip-toeing about the cave. Shadows 
 passed athwart the flame. A gust of cold; and 
 with half-closed eyes I saw three men vanish 
 through the outer doorway over fields no longer 
 snow-clad. 
 
 Had spring come? How long had I lain in 
 the cave? Before I gained strength to escape, 
 would M. Radisson have left for Quebec? Then 
 came a black wave of memory thought of Jack 
 Battle, the sailor lad, awaiting our return to 
 rescue him. From the first Jack and I had held 
 together as aliens in Boston Town. Should I lie 
 like a stranded hull while he perished? Risking 
 spies on the watch, I struggled up and staggered 
 248 
 
WHO THE PIRATES WERE 
 
 across the cave to that blue flame quivering so 
 mysteriously. As I neared, the mystery van 
 ished, for it was nothing more than one of those 
 northern beds of combustibles gas, tar, or coal 
 set burning by the ingenious pirates.* 
 
 The spirit was willing enough to help Jack, 
 but the flesh was weak. Presently I sank on the 
 heaped pelts all atremble. I had promised not 
 to spy nor eavesdrop, but that did not prohibit 
 escape. But how could one forage for food with 
 a right arm in bands and a left unsteady as aim 
 of a girl? Le Borgne had befriended me twice 
 once in the storm, again on the hill. Perhaps he 
 might know of Jack. I would wait the Indian s 
 return. Meanwhile I could practise my strength 
 by walking up and down the cave. 
 
 The walls were hung with pelts. Where the 
 dry clay crumbled, the roof had been timbered. 
 A rivulet of spring water bubbled in one dark 
 corner. At the same end an archway led to 
 inner recesses. Behind the skin doorway sound 
 ed heavy breathing, as of sleepers. I had prom 
 ised not to spy. Turning, I retraced the way to 
 the outer door. Here another pelt swayed heav- 
 
 * In confirmation of Mr. Stanhope s record it may be 
 stated that on the western side of the northland in the Mac 
 kenzie River region are gas and tar veins that are known to 
 hare been burning continuously for nearly two centuries. 
 249 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 ily in the wind. Dank, earthy smells of spring, 
 odours of leaves water-soaked by melting snows, 
 the faint perfume of flowers pushing up through 
 mats of verdure, blew in on the night breeze. 
 
 Pushing aside the flap, I looked out. The 
 spur of a steep declivity cut athwart the cave. 
 Now I could guess where I was. This was the 
 hill down which I had stumbled that night the 
 voices had come from the ground. Here the 
 masked man had sprung from the thicket. Not 
 far off M. Radisson had first met the Indians. 
 To reach the French Habitation I had but to 
 follow the river. 
 
 That hope set me pacing again for exer 
 cise; and the faster I walked the faster raced 
 thoughts over the events of the crowded years. 
 Again the Prince Rupert careened seaward, 
 bearing little Hortense to England. Once more 
 Ben Gillam swaggered on the water-front of 
 Boston Town, boasting all that he would do 
 when he had ship of his own. Then Jack Bat 
 tle, building his castles of fortune for love of 
 Hortense, and all unconsciously letting slip the 
 secret of good Boston men deep involved in 
 pirate schemes. The scene shifted to the far 
 north, and a masked man had leaped from the 
 forest dark only to throw down his weapon when 
 the firelight shone on my face. Again the white 
 250 
 
WHO THE PIRATES WERE 
 
 darkness of the storm, the three shadowy figures 
 and Le Borgne sent to guide us back to the fort. 
 Again, to beat of drum and shriek of fife, M. 
 Radisson was holding his own against the 
 swarming savages that assailed the New Eng- 
 landers fort. Then I was living over the un 
 speakable horror of the Indian massacre ending 
 in that awful wait on the crest of the hill. 
 
 The memory brought a chill as of winter cold. 
 With my back to both doors I stood shuddering 
 over the blue fire. Whatever logicians may say, 
 we do not reason life s conclusions out. Clouds 
 blacken the heavens till there comes the light 
 ning-flash. So do our intuitions leap unwarned 
 from the dark. Twas thus I seemed to fathom 
 the mystery of those interlopers. Ben Gillam 
 had been chosen to bring the pirate ship north 
 because his father, of the Hudson s Bay Com 
 pany, could screen him from English spies. Mr. 
 Stocking, of Boston, was another partner to the 
 venture, who could shield Ben from punishment 
 in New England. But the third partner was 
 hiding inland to defraud the others of the furs. 
 That was the meaning of Ben s drunken threats. 
 Who was the third partner? Had not Eli Kirke 
 planned trading in the north with Mr. Stocking? 
 Were the pirates some agents of my uncle? Did 
 that explain why my Hie had been three times 
 7 251 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 t 
 
 spared? One code of morals for the church and 
 another for the trade is the way of many a man; 
 but would the agents of a Puritan deacon mur 
 der a rival in the dark of a forest, or lead 
 Indians to massacre the crew of partners, or 
 take furs gotten at the price of a tribe s exter 
 mination? 
 
 Turning that question over, I heard the inner 
 door-flap lift. There was no time to regain the 
 couch, but a quick swerve took me out of the 
 firelight in the shadow of a great wolfskin 
 against the wall. You will laugh at the old idea 
 of honour, but I had promised not to spy, and 
 I never raised my eyes from the floor. There 
 was no sound but the gurgling of the spring in 
 the dark and the sharp crackle of the flame. 
 
 Thinking the wind had blown the flap, I 
 stepped from hiding. Something vague as mist 
 held back in shadow. The lines of a white-clad 
 figure etched themselves against the cave wall. 
 It floated out, paused, moved forward. 
 
 Then I remember clutching at the wolfskin 
 like one clinching a death-grip of reality, pray 
 ing God not to let go a soul s anchor-hold of 
 reason. 
 
 For when the figure glided into the slant 
 blue rays of the shafted flame it was Hortense 
 the Hortense of the dreams, sweet as the child, 
 252 
 
WHO THE PIRATES WERE 
 
 grave as the grown woman Hortense with 
 closed eyes and moving lips and hands feeling 
 out in the dark as if playing invisible keys. 
 
 She was asleep. 
 
 Then came the flash that lighted the clouds 
 of the past. 
 
 The interloper, the pirate, the leader of In 
 dian marauders, the defrauder of his partners, 
 was M. Picot, the French doctor, whom Boston 
 had outlawed, and who was now outlawing their 
 outlawry. We do not reason out our conclu 
 sions, as I said before. At our supremest mo 
 ments we do not think. Consciousness leaps 
 from summit to summit like the forked lightnings 
 across the mountain-peaks; and the mysteries of 
 life are illumined as a spread-out scroll. In that 
 moment of joy and fear and horror, as I crouched 
 back to the wall, I did not think. I knew knew 
 the meaning of all M. Picot s questionings on 
 the fur trade; of that murderous attack in the 
 dark when an antagonist flung down his weapon; 
 of the spying through the frosted woods; of the 
 figures in the white darkness; of the attempt to 
 destroy Ben Gillam s fort; of the rescue from 
 the crest of the hill; and of all those strange de 
 lirious dreams. 
 
 It was as if the past focused itself to one 
 flaming point, and the flash of that point illu- 
 253 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 mined life, as deity must feel to whom past and 
 present and future are one. 
 
 And all the while, with temples pounding like 
 surf on rock and the roar of the sea in my ears, 
 I was not thinking, only knowing that Hortense 
 was standing in the blue-shafted light with trem 
 ulous lips and white face and a radiance on her 
 brow not of this life. 
 
 Her hands ran lightly over imaginary keys. 
 The blue flame darted and quivered through the 
 gloom. The hushed purr of the spring broke the 
 stillness in metallic tinklings. A smile flitted 
 across the sleeper s face. Her lips parted. The 
 crackle of the flame seemed loud as tick of clock 
 in death-room. 
 
 " To get the memory of it," she said. 
 
 And there stole out of the past mocking 
 memories of that last night in the hunting-room, 
 filling the cave with tuneless melodies like 
 thoughts creeping into thoughts or odour of 
 flowers in dark. 
 
 But what was she saying in her sleep? 
 
 " Blind gods of chance " the words that 
 had haunted my delirium, then quick-spoken 
 snatches too low for me to hear " no no " 
 then more that was incoherent, and she was glid 
 ing back to the cave. 
 
 She had lifted the curtain door she was 
 254 
 
WHO THE PIRATES WERE 
 
 whispering she paused as if for answer then 
 with face alight, " The stars fight for us " she 
 said; and she had disappeared. 
 
 The flame set the shadows flickering. The 
 rivulet gurgled loud in the dark. And I came 
 from concealment as from a spirit world. 
 
 Then Hortense was no dream, and love was 
 no phantom, and God was what? 
 
 There I halted. The powers of darkness yet 
 pressed too close for me to see through to the 
 God that was love. I only knew that He who 
 throned the universe was neither the fool that 
 ignorant bigots painted, nor the blind power, 
 making wanton war of storm and dark and cold. 
 For had not the blind forces brought Hortense 
 to me, and me to Hortense? 
 
 Consciousness was leaping from summit to 
 summit like the forked lightnings, and the light 
 that burned was the light that transfigures life 
 for each soul. 
 
 The spell of a presence was there. 
 
 Then it came home to me what a desperate 
 game the French doctor had played. That 
 sword-thrust in the dark meant death; so did 
 the attack on Ben Gillam s fort; and was it not 
 Le Borgne, M. Picot s Indian ally, who had 
 counselled the massacre of the sleeping tribe? 
 You must not think that M. Picot was worse 
 255 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 than other traders of those days! The north is 
 a desolate land, and though blood cry aloud 
 from stones, there is no man to hear. 
 
 I easily guessed that M. Picot would try to 
 keep me with him till M. Radisson had sailed. 
 Then I must needs lock hands with piracy. 
 
 Hortense and I were pawns in the game. 
 
 At one moment I upbraided him for bringing 
 Hortense to this wilderness of murder and pil 
 lage. At another I considered that a banished 
 gentleman could not choose his goings. How 
 could I stay with M. Picot and desert M. de Ra 
 disson? How could I go to M. de Radisson and 
 abandon Hortense? 
 
 " Straight is the narrow way," Eli Kirke oft 
 cried out as he expounded Holy Writ. 
 
 Ah, well, if the narrow way is straight, it has 
 a trick of becoming tangled in a most terrible 
 snarl ! 
 
 Wheeling the log-end right about, I sat 
 down to await M. Picot. There was stirring in 
 the next apartment. An ebon head poked past 
 the door curtain, looked about, and withdrew 
 without detecting me. The face I remembered 
 at once. It was the wife of M. Picot s blacka 
 moor. Only three men had passed from the 
 cave. If the blackamoor were one, M. Picot 
 and Le Borgne must be the others. 
 256 
 
WHO THE PIRATES WERE 
 
 Footsteps grated on the pebbles outside. I 
 rose with beating heart to meet M. Picot, who 
 held my fate in his hands. Then a ringing pistol- 
 shot set my pulse jumping. 
 
 I ran to the door. Something plunged heav 
 ily against the curtain. The robe ripped from 
 the hangings. In the flood of moonlight a man 
 pitched face forward to the cave floor. He 
 reeled up with a cry of rage, caught blindly at 
 the air, uttered a groan, fell back. 
 
 "M. Picot!" 
 
 Blanched and faint, the French doctor lay 
 with a crimsoning pool wet under his head. 
 
 " I am shot! What will become of her? " he 
 groaned. " I am shot! It was Gillam! It was 
 Gillam!" 
 
 Hortense and the negress came running from 
 the inner cave. Le Borgne and the blackamoor 
 dashed from the open with staring horror. 
 
 " Lift me up! For God s sake, air! " cried 
 M. Picot. 
 
 We laid him on the pelts in the doorway, Le 
 Borgne standing guard outside. 
 
 Hortense stooped to stanch the wound, but 
 the doctor motioned her off with a fierce impa 
 tience, and bade the negress lead her away. 
 Then he lay with closed eyes, hands clutched to 
 the pelts, and shuddering breath. 
 257 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 The blackamoor had rushed to the inner 
 cave for liquor, when M. Picot opened his eyes 
 with a strange far look fastened upon me. 
 
 " Swear it," he commanded. 
 
 And I thought his mind wandering. 
 
 He groaned heavily. " Don t you under 
 stand? It s Hortense. Swear you ll restore 
 her " and his breath came with a hard metallic 
 rattle that warned the end. 
 
 " Doctor Picot," said I, " if you have any 
 thing to say, say it quickly and make your peace 
 with God!" 
 
 " Swear you ll take her back to her people 
 and treat her as a sister," he cried. 
 
 " I swear before God that I shall take Hor 
 tense back to her people, and that I shall treat 
 her like a sister," I repeated, raising my right 
 hand. 
 
 That seemed to quiet him. He closed his 
 eyes. 
 
 " Sir," said I, " have you nothing more to 
 say? Who are her people? " 
 
 " Is ... is ... any one listening? " he 
 asked in short, hard breaths. 
 
 I motioned the others back. 
 
 " Listen " the words came in quick, rasping 
 breaths. " She is not mine ... it was at night 
 . . . they brought her . . . ward o the court 
 258 
 
WHO THE PIRATES WERE 
 
 . . . lands . . . they wanted me." There was a 
 sharp pause, a shivering whisper. " I didn t poi 
 son her" the dying man caught convulsively 
 at my hands " I swear I had no thought of 
 harming her. . . . They . . . paid. ... I 
 fled. . . ." 
 
 " Who paid you to poison Hortense? Who 
 is Hortense? " I demanded; for his life was ebb 
 ing and the words portended deep wrong. 
 
 But his mind was wandering again, for he 
 began talking so fast that I could catch only a 
 few words. "Blood! Blood! Colonel Blood! " 
 Then " Swear it," he cried. 
 
 That speech sapped his strength. He sank 
 back with shut eyes and faint breathings. 
 
 We forced a potion between his lips. 
 
 " Don t let Gillam," he mumbled, " don t let 
 Gillam . . . have the furs." 
 
 A tremor ran through his stiffening frame. 
 A little shuddering breath and M. Picot had 
 staked his last pawn in life s game. 
 
 259 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 HOW THE PIRATES CAME 
 
 INSIDE our Habitation all was the confusion 
 of preparation for leaving the bay. Outside, 
 the Indians held high carnival; for Allemand, 
 the gin-soaked pilot, was busy passing drink 
 through the loopholes to a pandemonium of 
 savages raving outside the stockades. Tis not 
 a pretty picture, that memory of white-men be 
 sotting the Indian; but I must even set down 
 the facts as they are, bidding you to remember 
 that the white trader who besotted the Indian 
 was the same white trader who befriended all 
 tribes alike when the hunt failed and the famine 
 came. La Chesnaye, the merchant prince, it 
 was, who managed this low trafficking. Indeed, 
 for the rubbing together of more doubloons in 
 his money-bags I think that La Chesnaye s ser 
 vile nature would have bargained to send souls 
 in job lots blindfold over the gangplank. But, 
 as La Chesnaye said when Pierre Radisson re 
 monstrated against the knavery, the gin was 
 nine parts rain-water. 
 
 260 
 
HOW THE PIRATES CAME 
 
 " The more cheat, you, to lay such unction 
 to your conscience," says M. de Radisson. " Be 
 an honest knave, La Chesnaye! " 
 
 Foret, the marquis, stalked up and down be 
 fore the gate with two guards at his heels. All 
 day long birch canoes and log dugouts and 
 tubby pirogues and crazy rafts of loose-lashed 
 pine logs drifted to our water-front with bands 
 of squalid Indians bringing their pelts. Skin 
 tepees rose outside our palisades like an army 
 of mushrooms. Naked brats with wisps of hair 
 coarse as a horse s mane crawled over our 
 mounted cannon, or scudded between our feet 
 like pups, or felt our European clothes with 
 impudent wonder. Young girls having hair 
 plastered flat with bear s grease stood peeping 
 shyly from tent flaps. Old squaws with skin 
 withered to a parchment hung over the camp- 
 fires, cooking. And at the loopholes pressed the 
 braves and the bucks and the chief men ex 
 changing beaver-skins for old iron, or a silver 
 fox for a drink of gin, or ermine enough to 
 make His Majesty s coronation robe for some 
 flashy trinket to trick out a vain squaw. From 
 dawn to dusk ran the patter of moccasined feet, 
 man after man toiling up from river-front to 
 fort gate with bundles of peltries on his back 
 and a carrying strap across his brow. 
 261 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 Unarmed, among the savages, pacifying 
 drunken hostiles at the water-front, bidding 
 Jean and me look after the carriers, in the gate 
 way, helping Sieur de Groseillers to sort the 
 furs Pierre Radisson was everywhere. In the 
 guard-house were more English prisoners than 
 we had crews of French; and in the mess-room 
 sat Governor Brigdar of the Hudson s Bay 
 Company, who took his captivity mighty ill and 
 grew prodigious pot-valiant over his cups. 
 Here, too, lolled Ben Gillam, the young New 
 Englander, rumbling out a drunken vengeance 
 against those inland pirates, who had deprived 
 him of the season s furs. 
 
 Once, I mind, when M. Radisson came sud 
 denly on these two worthies, their fuddled heads 
 were close together above the table. 
 
 " Look you," Ben was saying in a big, rasp 
 ing whisper, " I shot him I shot him with a 
 brass button. The black arts are powerless agen 
 brass. Devil sink my soul if I didn t shoot him! 
 The red spattered over the brush " 
 
 M. Radisson raised a hand to silence my 
 coming. 
 
 Ben s nose poked across the table, closer to 
 Governor Brigdar s ear. 
 
 " But look you, Mister What s-yer-name," 
 says he. 
 
 262 
 
HOW THE PIRATES CAME 
 
 "Don t you Mister me, you young cub!" 
 interrupts the governor with a pompous show 
 of drunken dignity. 
 
 "A fig for Your Excellency," cries the 
 young blackguard. " Who s who when he s 
 drunk? As I was a-telling, look you, though 
 the red spattered the bushes, when I run up 
 he d vanished into air with a flash o pow 
 der from my musket! Twas by the black arts 
 that nigh hanged him in Boston Town 
 
 At that, Governor Brigdar claps his hand 
 to the table and swears that he cares nothing 
 for black arts if only the furs can be found. 
 
 " The furs aye," husks Ben, " if we can 
 only find the furs! An our men hold together, 
 we re two to one agen the Frenchies 
 
 " Ha," says M. Radisson. " Give you good- 
 morning, gentlemen, and I hope you find your 
 selves in health." 
 
 The two heads flew apart like the halves 
 of a burst cannon-shell. Thereafter, Radisson 
 kept Ben and Governor Brigdar apart. 
 
 Of Godefroy and Jack Battle" we could learn 
 naught. Le Borgne would never tell what he 
 and M. Picot had seen that night they rescued 
 me from the hill. Whether Le Borgne and the 
 hostiles of the massacre lied or no, they both 
 told the same story of Jack. While the tribe 
 263 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 was still engaged in the scalp-dance, some one 
 had untied Jack s bands. When the braves 
 went to torture their captive, he had escaped. 
 But whither had he gone that he had not come 
 back to us? Like the sea is the northland, full 
 of nameless graves; and after sending scouts far 
 and wide, we gave up all hope of finding the 
 sailor lad. 
 
 But in the fort was another whose presence 
 our rough fellows likened to a star flower on 
 the stained ground of some hard-fought battle. 
 After M. Radisson had quieted turbulent spirits 
 by a reading of holy lessons, Mistress Hor- 
 tense queened it over our table of a Sunday at 
 noon. Waiting upon her at either hand were 
 the blackamoor and the negress. A soldier in 
 red stood guard behind; and every man, officer, 
 and commoner down the long mess-table tuned 
 his manners to the pure grace of her fair 
 face. 
 
 What a hushing of voices and cleansing of 
 wits and disusing of oaths was there after my 
 little lady came to our rough Habitation! 
 
 I mind the first Sunday M. Radisson led 
 her out like a queen to the mess-room table. 
 When our voyageurs went upstream for M. 
 Picot s hidden furs, her story had got noised 
 about the fort, Officers, soldiers, and sailors 
 364 
 
HOW THE PIRATES CAME 
 
 had seated themselves at the long benches on 
 either side the table; but M. Radisson s place 
 was empty and a sort of throne chair had been 
 extemporized at the head of the table. An an 
 gry question went from group to group to know 
 if M. Radisson designed such place of honour 
 for the two leaders of our prisoners under lock 
 in the guard-room. M. de Groseillers only 
 laughed and bade the fellows contain their souls 
 and stomachs in patience. A moment later, the 
 door to the quarters where Hortense lived 
 was thrown open by a red-coated soldier, and 
 out stepped M. Radisson leading Hortense by 
 the tips of her dainty fingers, the ebon faces of 
 the two blackamoors grinning delight behind. 
 
 You could have heard a pin fall among our 
 fellows. Then there was a noise of armour 
 clanking to the floor. Every man unconsciously 
 took to throwing his pistol under the table, 
 flinging sword-belt down and hiding daggers 
 below benches. Of a sudden, the surprise went 
 to their heads. 
 
 " Gentlemen," began M. Radisson. 
 
 But the fellows would have none of his 
 grand speeches. With a cheer that set the raft 
 ers ringing, they were on their feet; and to Mis 
 tress Hortense s face came a look that does more 
 {or the making of men than all New England s 
 265 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 laws or my uncle s blasphemy boxes or King 
 Charles s dragoons. You ask what that look 
 was? Go to, with your teasings! A lover is not 
 to be asked his whys! I ask you in return why 
 you like the spire of a cathedral pointing up in 
 stead of down; or why the muses lift souls heav 
 enward? Indeed, of all the fine arts granted 
 the human race to lead men s thoughts above 
 the sordid brutalities of living, methinks woman 
 is the finest; for God s own hand fashioned her, 
 and she was the last crowning piece of all His 
 week s doings. The finest arts are the easiest 
 spoiled, as you know very well; and if you de 
 mand how Mistress Hortense could escape harm 
 amid all the wickedness of that wilderness, I an 
 swer it is a thing that your townsfolk cannot 
 know. 
 
 It is of the wilderness. 
 
 The wilderness is a foster-mother that teach- 
 eth hard, strange paradoxes. The first is the sin 
 of being weak; and the second is that death is the 
 least of life s harms. 
 
 Wrapped in those furs for which he had 
 staked his life like many a gamester of the wil 
 derness, M. Picot lay buried in that sandy 
 stretch outside the cave door. Turning to lead 
 Hortense away before Le Borgne and the black- 
 266 
 
HOW THE PIRATES CAME 
 
 amoor began filling the grave, I found her 
 stonily silent and tearless. 
 
 But it was she who led me. 
 
 Scrambling up the hillside like a chamois 
 of the mountains, she flitted lightly through the 
 greening to a small open where campers had 
 built night fires. Her quick glance ran from 
 tree to tree. Some wood-runner had blazed a 
 trail by notching the bark. Pausing, she turned 
 with the frank, fearless look of the wilderness 
 woman. She was no longer the elusive Hor- 
 tense of secluded life. A change had come the 
 change of the hothouse plant set out to the 
 bufferings of the four winds of heaven to perish 
 from weakness or gather strength from hard 
 ship. Your woman of older lands must hood 
 fair eyes, perforce, lest evil masking under other 
 eyes give wrong intent to candour; but in the 
 wilderness each life stands stripped of pretence, 
 honestly good or evil, bare at what it is; and pu 
 rity clear as the noonday sun needs no trick of 
 custom to make it plainer. 
 
 " Is not this the place? " she asked. 
 
 Looking closer, from shrub to open, I recog 
 nised the ground of that night attack in the 
 woods. 
 
 " Hortense, then it was you that I saw at 
 the fire with the others? " 
 
 18 267 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 She nodded assent. She had not uttered one 
 word to explain how she came to that wild land; 
 nor had I asked. 
 
 " It was you who pleaded for my life in the 
 cave below my feet? " 
 
 "I did not know you had heard! I only 
 sent Le Borgne to bring you back! " 
 
 " I hid as he passed." 
 
 " But I sent a message to the fort " 
 
 " Not to be bitten by the same dog twice 
 I thought that meant to keep away? " 
 
 " What? " asked Hortense, passing her hand 
 over her eyes. " Was that the message he gave 
 you? Then monsieur had bribed him! I sent 
 for you to come to us. Oh, that is the reason 
 you never came " 
 
 " And that is the reason you have hidden 
 from me all the year and never sent me word? " 
 
 "I thought I thought " She turned 
 away. " Ben Gillam told monsieur you had left 
 Boston on our account " 
 
 " And you thought I wanted to avoid 
 you " 
 
 " I did not blame you/ she said. " Indeed, 
 indeed, I was very weak monsieur must have 
 bribed Le Borgne I sent word again and again 
 but you never answered! " 
 
 " How could you misunderstand O Hor- 
 268 
 
HOW THE PIRATES CAME 
 
 tense, after that night in the hunting-room, how 
 could you believe so poorly of me! " 
 
 She gave a low laugh. " That s what your 
 good angel used to plead," she said. 
 
 "Good angel, indeed!" said I, memory of 
 the vows to that miscreant adventurer fading. 
 "That good angel was a lazy baggage! She 
 should have compelled you to believe! " 
 
 " Oh she did," says Hortense quickly. 
 4 The poor thing kept telling me and telling me 
 to trust you till I 
 
 " Till you what, Hortense? " 
 
 She did not answer at once. 
 
 " Monsieur and the blackamoor and I had 
 gone to the upper river watching for the ex 
 pected boats 
 
 " Hortense, were you the white figure be 
 hind the bush that night we were spying on the 
 Prince Rupert! " 
 
 " Yes," she said, " and you pointed your 
 gun at me! " 
 
 I was too dumfounded for words. Then 
 a suspicion flashed to my mind. " Who sent 
 Le Borgne for us in the storm, Hortense? " 
 
 " Oh," says Hortense, " that was nothing! 
 
 Monsieur pretended that he thought you were 
 
 caribou. He wanted to shoot. Oh," she said, 
 
 "oh, how I have hated him! To think to 
 
 269 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 think that he would shoot when you helped us 
 in Boston! " 
 
 " Hortense, who sent Le Borgne and M. 
 Picot to save me from the wolves? " 
 
 " Oh," says Hortense bravely, with a shud 
 der between the words, " that was that was 
 nothing I mean one would do as much for 
 anybody for for for a poor little stoat, or 
 or a caribou if the wolves were after it! " 
 
 And we laughed with the tears in our eyes. 
 And all the while that vow to the dying adven 
 turer was ringing like a faint death toll to hope. 
 I remember trying to speak a gratitude too 
 deep for words. 
 
 " Can I ever ever repay you Hor 
 tense? " I was asking. 
 
 " Repay! " she said with a little bitter laugh. 
 " Oh! I hate that word repay! I hate all give- 
 and-take and so-much-given-for-so-much-got! " 
 Then turning to me with her face aflame: "I 
 am I am oh why can t you understand? " 
 she asked. 
 
 And then and then there was a wordless 
 cry her arms reached out in mute appeal 
 there was no need of speech. 
 
 The forest shone green and gold in the sun 
 light. The wind rustled past like a springtime 
 presence, a presence that set all the pines sway- 
 270 
 
HOW THE PIRATES CAME 
 
 ing and the aspens aquiver with music of flower 
 legend and new birth and the joy of life. 
 There was a long silence; and in that silence the 
 pulsing of the mighty forces that lift mortals to 
 immortality. 
 
 Then a voice which only speaks when love 
 speaks through the voice was saying, " Do you 
 remember your dreams? " 
 
 " What? " stooping to cull some violets 
 that had looked well against the green of her 
 hunting-suit. 
 
 " Blind gods of chance blind gods of 
 chance you used to say that over and 
 over! " 
 
 "Ah, M. Radisson taught me that! God 
 bless the blind gods of chance Hortense teach 
 es me that; for" giving her back her own words 
 " you are here you are here you are here 
 with me! God bless the gods of chance! " 
 
 " Oh," she cried, " were you not asleep? 
 Monsieur let me watch after you had taken the 
 sleeping drug." 
 
 The stars fight for us in their courses," 
 said I, handing up the violets. 
 
 " Ramsay," she asked with a sudden look 
 straight through my eyes, " what did he make 
 you promise when when he was dying? " 
 
 The question brought me up like a sail hauled 
 271 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 short. And when I told her, she uttered strange 
 reproaches. 
 
 "Why why did you promise that?" she 
 asked. " It has always been his mad dream. 
 And when I told him I did not want to be re 
 stored, that I wanted to be like Rebecca and 
 Jack and you and the rest, he called me a little 
 fool and bade me understand that he had not 
 poisoned me as he was paid to do because 
 it was to his advantage to keep me alive. Cour 
 tiers would not assassinate a stray waif, he said; 
 there was wealth for the court s ward some 
 where; and when I was restored, I was to re 
 member who had slaved for me. Indeed, in 
 deed, I think that he would have married me, 
 but that he feared it would bar him from any 
 property as a king s ward " 
 
 " Is that all you know? " 
 
 " That is all. Why why did you prom 
 ise? " 
 
 " What else was there to do, Hortense? 
 You can t stay in this wilderness." 
 
 " Oh, yes," says Hortense wearily, and she 
 let the violets fall. " What what else was there 
 to do? " 
 
 She led the way back to the cave. 
 
 " You have not asked me how we came 
 here," she began with visible effort. 
 272 
 
HOW THE PIRATES CAME 
 
 Tell me no more than you wish me to 
 know!" 
 
 " Perhaps you remember a New Amsterdam 
 gentleman and a page boy leaving Boston on 
 the Prince Rupert? " 
 
 " Perhaps," said I. 
 
 " Captain Gillam of the Prince Rupert sig 
 nalled to his son outside the harbour. Monsieur 
 had been bargaining with Ben all winter. Ben 
 took us to the north with Le Borgne for inter- 
 preter- 
 
 " Does Ben know you are here? " 
 
 " Not as Hortense! I was dressed as a page. 
 Then Le Borgne told us of this cave and mon 
 sieur plotted to lead the Indians against Ben, 
 capture the fort and ship, and sail away with all 
 the furs for himself. Oh, how I have hated 
 him!" she exclaimed with a sudden impetuous 
 stamp. 
 
 Leaving her with the slaves, I took Le 
 Borgne with me to the Habitation. Here, I told 
 all to M. Radisson. And his quick mind seized 
 this, too, for advantage. 
 
 " Precious pearls," he exclaims, " but tis a 
 gift of the gods! 
 
 " Sir? " 
 
 " Pardieu, Chouart; listen to this," and he 
 tells his kinsman, Groseillers. 
 273 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " Why not? " asks Groseillers. " You mean 
 to send her to Mary Kirke? " 
 
 Mary Kirke was Pierre Radisson s wife, who 
 would not leave the English to go to him when 
 he had deserted England for France. 
 
 " Sir John Kirke is director of the English 
 Company now. He hath been knighted by 
 King Charles. Mary and Sir John will present 
 this little maid at the English court. An she be 
 not a nine days wonder there, my name is not 
 Pierre Radisson. If she s a court ward, some of 
 the crew must take care of her." 
 
 Groseillers smiled. " An the French reward 
 us not well for this winter s work, that little 
 maid may open a door back to England; eh, 
 kinsman? " 
 
 Twas the same gamestering spirit carrying 
 them through all hazard that now led them to 
 prepare for fresh partnership, lest France played 
 false. And as history tells, France played very 
 false indeed. 
 
 274 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 WE LEAVE THE NORTH SEA 
 
 So Sieur Radisson must fit out a royal flotilla 
 to carry Mistress Hortense to the French Habi 
 tation. And gracious acts are like the gift horse: 
 you must not look them in the mouth. For the 
 same flotilla that brought Hortense brought all 
 M. Picot s hoard of furs. Coming down the 
 river, lying languidly back among the peltries 
 of the loaded canoe, Hortense, I mind, turned 
 to me with that honest look of hers and asked 
 why Sieur Radisson sent to fetch her in such 
 royal state. 
 
 " I am but a poor beggar like your little 
 Jack Battle," she protested. 
 
 I told her of M. Radisson s plans for entrance 
 to the English court, and the fire that flashed to 
 her eyes was like his own. 
 
 " Must a woman ever be a cat s-paw to man s 
 
 ambitions? " she asked, with a gleam of the dark 
 
 lights. " Oh, the wilderness is different," says 
 
 Hortense with a sigh. " In the wild land, each 
 
 275 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 is for its own! Oh, I love it! " she adds, with a 
 sudden lighting of the depths in her eyes. 
 
 " Love what? " 
 
 " The wilderness," says Hortense. " It is 
 hard, but it s free and it s pure and it s true and 
 it s strong!" 
 
 And she sat back among the pillows. 
 
 When we shot through racing rapids " sau- 
 ter les rapides," as our French voyageurs say 
 she sat up all alert and laughed as the spray 
 splashed athwart. Old Allemand, the pilot, 
 who was steersman on this canoe, forgot the ill- 
 humour of his gin thirst, and proffered her a 
 paddle. 
 
 " Here, pretty thing," says he, " try a stroke 
 yourself! " 
 
 And to the old curmudgeon s surprise she 
 took it with a joyous laugh, and paddled half 
 that day. 
 
 Bethink you who know what warm hearts 
 beat inside rough buckskin whether those voy 
 ageurs were her slaves or no! The wind was 
 blowing; Mistress Hortense s hair tossed in a 
 way to make a man swear (vows, not oaths), and 
 Allemand said that I paddled worse than any 
 green hand of a first week. At the Habitation 
 we disembarked after nightfall to conceal our 
 movements from the English. After her arrival, 
 276 
 
WE LEAVE THE NORTH SEA 
 
 none of us caught a glimpse of Mistress Hor- 
 tense except of a Sunday at noon, but of her 
 presence there was proof enough. Did voices 
 grow loud in the mess-room? A hand was 
 raised. Some one pointed to the far door, and 
 the voices fell. Did a fellow s tales slip an oath 
 or two? There was a hush. Some one s thumb 
 jerked significantly shoulderwise to the door, 
 and the story-teller leashed his oats for a more 
 convenient season. 
 
 " Oh, lordy," taunts an English prisoner out 
 on parole one day, " any angels from kingdom 
 come that you Frenchies keep meek as lambs? " 
 
 Allemand, not being able to explain, knocked 
 the fellow flat. 
 
 It would scarce have been human nature had 
 not some of the ruffians uttered slurs on the ori 
 gin of such an one as Hortense found in so 
 strange a case. The mind that feedeth on car 
 rion ever goeth with the large mouth, and for the 
 cleansing of such natures I wot there is no bet 
 ter physic than our crew gave those gossips. 
 What the sailors did I say not. Enough that 
 broken heads were bound by our chirurgeon for 
 the rest of the week. 
 
 That same chirurgeon advised a walk outside 
 the fort walls for Mistress Hillary s health. By 
 the goodness of Providence, the duty of escort- 
 277 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 ing her fell to me. Attended by the blackamoor 
 and a soldier, with a musket across my shoulder, 
 I led her out of a rear sally-port and so avoided 
 the scenes of drunkenness among the Indians at 
 the main gate. We got into hiding of a thick 
 et, but boisterous shouting came from the In 
 dian encampment. I glanced at Hortense. She 
 was clad in a green hunting-suit, and by the 
 light of the setting sun her face shone radiant. 
 "You are not afraid?" 
 
 A flush of sheer delight in life flooded her 
 cheeks. 
 
 "Afraid?" she laughed. 
 " Hortense! Hortense! Do you not hear 
 the drunken revel? Do you know what it 
 means? This world is full of what a maid must 
 fear. Tis her fear protects her." 
 "Ah? "asks Hortense. 
 
 And she opened the tight-clasped hunting- 
 cloak. A Spanish poniard hung against the 
 inner folds. 
 
 Tis her courage must protect her. The 
 wilderness teaches that," says Hortense, "the 
 wilderness and men like Picot." 
 
 Then we clasped hands and ran like children 
 
 from thicket to rock and rock to the long 
 
 stretches of shingly shore. Behind came the 
 
 blackamoor and the soldier. The salt spray flew 
 
 278 
 
WE LEAVE THE NORTH SEA 
 
 in our faces, the wind through our hair; and in 
 our hearts, a joy untold. Where a great obelisk 
 of rock thrust across the way, Hortense halt 
 ed. She stood on the lee side of the rock fanning 
 herself with her hat. 
 
 " Now you are the old Hortense! " 
 " I am older, hundreds of years older," 
 laughed Hortense. 
 
 The westering sun and the gold light of the 
 sea and the caress of a spring wind be perilous 
 setting for a fair face. I looked and looked 
 again. 
 
 " Hortense, should an oath to the dead bind 
 the living? " 
 
 " If it was right to take the oath, yes," said 
 Hortense. 
 
 " Hortense, I may never see you alone again. 
 I promised to treat you as I would treat a 
 
 sister " 
 
 " But " interrupts Hortense. 
 Footsteps were approaching along the sand. 
 I thought only of the blackamoor and soldier. 
 
 " I promised to treat you as I would a sister 
 but what Hortense? " 
 
 " But but I didn t promise to treat you as I 
 would a brother- 
 Then a voice from the other side of the rock: 
 " Devil sink my soul to the bottom of the sea if 
 279 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 that viper Frenchman hasn t all our furs packed 
 away in his hold ! " 
 
 Then "A pox on him for a meddle 
 some " the voice fell. 
 
 Then Ben Gillam again: "Shiver my soul! 
 Let im set sail, I say! Aren t you and me to be 
 shipped on a raft for the English fort at the foot 
 o the bay?" 
 
 " We ll send em all to the bottom "o hell 
 first." 
 
 "An you give the word, all my men will 
 rise!" 
 
 " Capture the fort risk the ships butcher 
 the French!" 
 
 Hortense raised her hand and pointed along 
 the shore. Our two guards were lumbering up 
 and would presently betray our presence. Steal 
 ing forward we motioned their silence. I sent 
 both to listen behind the rock, while Hortense 
 and I struck into cover of the thicket to regain 
 the fort. 
 
 " Do not fear," said I. " M. Radisson has 
 kept the prisoners in hand. He will snuff this 
 pretty conspiracy out before Brigdar and Ben 
 get their heads apart." 
 
 She gave that flitting look which laughs at 
 fear and hastened on. We could not go back as 
 we had come without exposing ourselves to the 
 280 
 
WE LEAVE THE NORTH SEA 
 
 two conspirators, and our course lay nearer the 
 Indian revel. About a mile from the fort Hor- 
 tense stopped short. Through the underbrush 
 crawled two braves with their eyes leering at us. 
 
 " Hortense," I urged, " run for the rear gate! 
 I ll deal with these two alone. There may be 
 more! Run, my dear!" 
 
 " Give me your musket," she said, never tak 
 ing her eyes from the savages. 
 
 Wondering not a little at the request, I hand 
 ed her the weapon. 
 
 " Now run," I begged, for a sand crane 
 flapped up where the savages had prowled a 
 pace nearer. 
 
 Quick as it rose Hortense aimed. There was 
 a puff of smoke. The bird fell shot at the sav 
 ages feet, and the miscreants scudded off in 
 terror. 
 
 " That was better," said Hortense, " you 
 would have killed a man." 
 
 In vain I urged her to hasten back. She 
 walked. 
 
 " You know it may be the last time," she 
 laughed, mocking my grave air of the beach. 
 
 11 Hortense Hortense how am I to keep a 
 promise? " 
 
 But she did not answer a word till we reached 
 the sally-port. There she turned with a brave 
 281 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 enough look till her eyes met mine, when all was 
 the confusion that men give their lives to win. 
 
 " Yes yes keep your promise. If you had 
 not come, I had died; if I had not come, you 
 had died. Let us keep faith with truth, for that s 
 keeping faith with God and and God bless 
 you," she whispered brokenly, and she darted 
 through the gate. 
 
 And the next morning we embarked, young 
 Jean Groseillers remaining with ten Frenchmen 
 to hold the fort; Brigdar and Ben aboard our 
 ship instead of going to the English at the foot 
 of the bay; half the prisoners under hatches 
 in M. Groseillers s ship; the other half sent 
 south on the raft a plan which effectually 
 stopped that conspiracy of Ben s. Not one 
 glimpse of our fair passenger had we on all that 
 voyage south, for what with Ben s oaths and 
 Governor Brigdar s drinking, the cabin was no 
 place for Hortense. 
 
 At Isle Percee, entering the St. Lawrence, lay 
 a messenger from La Chesnaye s father with a 
 missive that bore ill news. 
 
 M. de la Barre, the new governor, had or 
 dered our furs confiscated because we had gone 
 north without a license, and La Chesnaye had 
 thriftily rigged up this ship to send half our car- 
 282 
 
WE LEAVE THE NORTH SEA 
 
 go across to France before the Farmers of the 
 Revenue could get their hands upon it. It was 
 this gave rise to the slander that M. de Radisson 
 ran off with half La Chesnaye s furs which the 
 records de la marine will disprove, if you search 
 them. 
 
 On this ship with her blackamoors sailed 
 Mistress Hortense, bearing letters to Sir John 
 Kirke, director of the Hudson s Bay Company 
 and father of M. Radisson s wife. 
 
 " Now praise be Heaven, that little ward 
 will open the way for us in England, Chouart," 
 said M. de Radisson, as he moodily listened to 
 news of the trouble abrewing in Quebec. 
 
 And all the way up the St. Lawrence, as the 
 rolling tide lapped our keel, I was dreaming of a 
 far, cold paleocrystic sea, mystic in the frost- 
 clouds that lay over it like smoke. Then a figure 
 emerged from the white darkness. I was 
 snatched up, with the northern lights for char 
 iot, two blazing comets our steeds, and the north 
 star a charioteer. 
 
 19 283 
 
PART III 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 A CHANGE OF PARTNERS 
 
 OLD folks are wont to repeat themselves, 
 but that is because they would impress those 
 garnered lessons which age no longer has 
 strength to drive home at one blow. 
 
 Royalist and Puritan, each had his lesson to 
 learn, as I said before. Each marked the pendu 
 lum swing to a wrong extreme, and the pendu 
 lum was beating time for your younger genera 
 tions to march by. And so I say to you who 
 are wiser by the follies of your fathers, look not 
 back too scornfully; for he who is ever watching 
 to mock at the tripping of other men s feet is like 
 to fall over a very small stumbling-block him 
 self. 
 
 Already have I told you of holy men who 
 would gouge a man s eye out for the extraction 
 of one small bean, and counted burnings life s 
 highest joy, and held the body accursed as a nec 
 essary evil for the tabernacling of the soul. 
 Now must I tell you of those who wantoned " in 
 
 287 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eye and 
 the pride of life," who burned their lives out at a 
 shrine of folly, and who held that the soul and 
 all things spiritual had gone out of fashion ex 
 cept for the making of vows and pretty conceits 
 in verse by a lover to his lady. 
 
 For Pierre Radisson s fears of France play 
 ing false proved true. Bare had our keels 
 bumped through that forest of sailing craft, 
 which ever swung to the tide below Quebec fort, 
 when a company of young cadets marches down 
 from the Castle St. Louis to escort us up to M. 
 de la Barre, the new governor. 
 
 " Hm," says M. Radisson, looking in his 
 half-savage buckskins a wild enough figure 
 among all those young jacks-in-a-box with their 
 gold lace and steel breastplates. " Hm let the 
 governor come to us! An you will not go to a 
 man, a man must come to you! " 
 
 " I am indisposed," says he to the cadets. 
 " Let the governor come to me." 
 
 And come he did, with a company of troops 
 fresh out from France and a roar of cannon 
 from the ramparts that was more for the frighten 
 ing than welcoming of us. 
 
 M. de Radisson bade us answer the salute by 
 a firing of muskets in mid-air. Then we all let 
 go a cheer for the Governor of New France. 
 288 
 
A CHANGE OF PARTNERS 
 
 " I must thank Your Excellency for the wel 
 come sent down by your cadets," says M. de Ra- 
 disson, meeting the governor half-way across the 
 gang-plank. 
 
 M. de la Barre, an iron-gray man past the 
 prime of life, gave spare smile in answer to 
 that. 
 
 " I bade my cadets request you to report at- 
 the castle," says he, with a hard wrinkling of the 
 lines round his lips. 
 
 " I bade your fellows report that I was indis 
 posed!" 
 
 " Did the north not agree with Sieur Radis- 
 son? " asks the governor dryly. 
 
 " Pardieu! yes better than the air of Que 
 bec," retorts M. Radisson. 
 
 By this the eyes of the listeners were agape, 
 M. Radisson not budging a pace to go ashore, 
 the governor scarce courting rebuff in sight of 
 his soldiers. 
 
 " Radisson," says M. de la Barre, motioning 
 his soldiers back and following to our captain s 
 cabin, " a fellow was haltered and whipped for 
 disrespect to the bishop yesterday! " 
 
 " Fortunately," says M. Radisson, touching 
 the hilt of his rapier, " gentlemen settle differ 
 ences in a simpler way! " 
 
 They had entered the cabin, where Radisson 
 289 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 bade me stand guard at the door, and at our 
 leader s bravado M. de la Barre saw fit to throw 
 off all disguise. 
 
 " Radisson," he said, " those who trade with 
 out license are sent to the galleys " 
 
 " And those who go to the galleys get no 
 more furs to divide with the Governor of New 
 France, and the governor who gets no furs goes 
 home a poor man." 
 
 M. de la Barre s sallow face wrinkled again 
 in a dry laugh. 
 
 " La Chesnaye has told you? " 
 
 " La Chesnaye s son " 
 
 "Have the ships a good cargo? They 
 must remain here till our officer examines 
 them." 
 
 Which meant till the governor s minions 
 looted both vessels for His Excellency s profit. 
 M. Radisson, who knew that the better part of 
 the furs were already crossing the ocean, nodded 
 his assent. 
 
 " But about these English prisoners, of whom 
 La Chesnaye sent word from Isle Percee? " con 
 tinues the governor. 
 
 " The prisoners matter nothing tis their 
 ship has value " 
 
 " She must go back," interjects M. de la 
 Barre. 
 
 290 
 
A CHANGE OF PARTNERS 
 
 " Back? " exclaims M. Radisson. 
 
 " Why didn t you sell her to some Spanish 
 adventurer before you came here? " 
 
 " Spanish adventurer Your Excellency? I 
 am no butcher! " 
 
 " Eh man!" says the governor, tapping the 
 table with a document he pulled from his great 
 coat pocket and shrugging his shoulders with a 
 deprecating gesture of the hands, " if her crew 
 feared sharks, they should have defended her 
 against capture. Now your prize must go 
 back to New England and we lose the profit! 
 Here," says he, " are orders from the king and 
 M. Colbert that nothing be done to offend the 
 subjects of King Charles of England 
 
 " Which means that Barillon, the French am 
 bassador ? " 
 
 M. de la Barre laid his finger on his lips. 
 "Walls have ears! If one king be willing to 
 buy and another to sell himself and his country, 
 loyal subjects have no comment, Radisson." 
 
 " Loyal subjects! " sneers M. de Radis 
 son. 
 
 " And that reminds me, M. Colbert orders 
 Sieur Radisson to present himself in Paris and 
 
 * The reference is evidently to the secret treaty by which 
 King Charles of England received annual payment for com 
 pliance with King Louis s schemes for French aggression. 
 2 9 I 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 report on the state of the fur-trade to the 
 king!" 
 
 " Ramsay," said M. Radisson to me, after 
 Governor la Barre had gone, " this is some new 
 gamestering! " 
 
 " Your court players are too deep for me, 
 sir! " 
 
 " Pish! " says he impatiently, " plain as day 
 we must sail on the frigate for France, or they 
 imprison us here in Paris we shall be kept dan 
 gling by promises, hangers-on and do-nothings 
 till the moneys are all used then " 
 
 " Then sir? " 
 
 " Then, active men are dangerous men, and 
 dangerous men may lie safe and quiet in the 
 sponging-house ! " 
 
 " Do we sail in that case? " 
 
 " Egad, yes! Why not? Keep your colours 
 flying and you may sail into hell, man, and con 
 quer, too! Yes we sail! Man or devil, don t 
 swerve, lad! Go your gait! Go your gait! 
 Chouart here will look after the ships! Paris 
 is near London, and praise be Providence for 
 that little maid of thine! We shall presently 
 have letters from her and," he added, 
 " from Sir John Kirke of the Hudson s Bay 
 Company! " 
 
 And it was even as he foretold. I find, on 
 292 
 
A CHANGE OF PARTNERS 
 
 looking over the tattered pages of a handbook, 
 these notes: 
 
 Oct. 6. Ben Gillam and Governor Brigdar 
 this day sent back to New England. There will 
 be great complaints against us in the English 
 court before we can reach London. 
 
 Nov. ii. Sailed for France in the French 
 frigate. 
 
 D ec , jS. Reach Rochelle hear of M. Col 
 bert s death. 
 
 Jan. 30. Paris all our furs seized by the 
 French Government in order to keep M. Radis- 
 son powerless Lord Preston, the English am 
 bassador, complaining against us on the one 
 hand, and battering our doors down on the 
 other, with spies offering M. Radisson safe pas 
 sage from Paris to London. 
 
 I would that I had time to tell you of that 
 hard winter in Paris, M. Radisson week by week, 
 like a fort resisting siege, forced to take cheaper 
 and cheaper lodgings, till we were housed be 
 tween an attic roof and creaking rat-ridden floor 
 in the Faubourg St. Antoine. But not one jot 
 did M. Radisson lose of his kingly bearing, 
 though he went to some fete in Versailles with 
 beaded moccasins and frayed plushes and tat 
 tered laces and hair that one of the pretty wits 
 declared the birds would be anesting in for hay- 
 293 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 coils. In that Faubourg St. Antoine house, I 
 mind, we took grand apartments on the ground 
 floor, but up and up we went, till M. Radisson 
 vowed we d presently be under the stars as the 
 French say when they are homeless unless my 
 Lord Preston, the English ambassador, came to 
 our terms. 
 
 That starving of us for surrender was only 
 another trick of the gamestering in which we 
 were enmeshed. Had Captain Godey, Lord 
 Preston s messenger, succeeded in luring us back 
 to England without terms, what a pretty pickle 
 had ours been! France would have set a price 
 on us. Then must we have accepted any kick-of- 
 toe England chose to offer and thanked our 
 new masters for the same, else back to France 
 they would have sent us. 
 
 But attic dwellers stave off many a woe with 
 empty stomachs and stout courage. When 
 April came, boats for the fur-trade should have 
 been stirring, and my Lord Preston changes his 
 tune. One night, when Pierre Radisson sat 
 spinning his yarns of captivity with Iroquois to 
 our attic neighbours, comes a rap at the door, 
 and in walks Captain Godey of the English Em 
 bassy. As soon as our neighbours had gone, he 
 counts out one hundred gold pieces on the table. 
 Then he hands us a letter signed by the Duke of 
 294 
 
A CHANGE OF PARTNERS 
 
 York, King Charles s brother, who was Governor 
 of the Hudson s Bay Company, granting us all 
 that we asked. 
 
 Thereupon, Pierre Radisson asks leave of the 
 French court to seek change of air; but the coun 
 try air we sought was that of England in May, 
 not France, as the court inferred. 
 
 295 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 UNDER THE ^EGIS OF THE COURT 
 
 THE roar of London was about us. 
 
 Sign-boards creaked and swung to every 
 puff of wind. Great hackney-coaches, sunk at 
 the waist like those old gallipot boats of ours, 
 went ploughing past through the mud of mid- 
 road, with bepowdered footmen clinging be 
 hind and saucy coachmen perched in front. 
 These flunkeys thought it fine sport to splash us 
 passers-by, or beguiled the time when there was 
 stoppage across the narrow street by lashing 
 rival drivers with their long whips and knocking 
 cock-hats to the gutter. Prentices stood ring 
 ing their bells and shouting their wares at every 
 shop-door. "What d ye lack? What d ye 
 lack? What d ye please to lack, good sirs? 
 Walk this way for kerseys, sayes, and perpetu- 
 anoes! Bands and ruffs and piccadillies! Walk 
 this way! Walk this way! " 
 
 " Pardieu, lad! " says M. Radisson, elbowing 
 a saucy spark from the wall for the tenth time in 
 as many paces, " Pardieu, you can t hear your- 
 296 
 
UNDER THE 1EGIS OF THE COURT 
 
 self think! Shut up to you!" he called to a 
 bawling prentice dressed in white velvet waist 
 coat like a showman s dummy to exhibit the 
 fashion. " Shut up to you! " 
 
 And I heard the fellow telling his comrades 
 my strange companion with the tangled hair 
 was a pirate from the Barbary States. Another 
 saucy vender caught at the chance. 
 
 " Perukes! Perukes! Newest French peri 
 wigs! " he shouts, jangling his bell and putting 
 himself across M. Radisson s course. You d 
 please to lack a periwig, sir! Walk this way! 
 Walk this way 
 
 " Out of my way! " orders Radisson with a 
 hiss of his rapier round the fellow s fat calves. 
 " Tis a milliner s doll the town makes of a man! 
 Out of my way! " 
 
 And the prentice went skipping. We were 
 to meet the directors of the Hudson s Bay Com 
 pany that night, and we had come out to re 
 furbish our scant, wild attire. But bare had we 
 turned the corner for the linen-draper s shops of 
 Fleet Street when M. Radisson s troubles be 
 gan. Idlers eyed us with strange looks. Huck 
 sters read our necessitous state and ran at heel 
 shouting their wares. Shopmen saw needy cus 
 tomers in us and sent their prentices running. 
 Chairmen splashed us as they passed; and im- 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 pudent dandies powdered and patched and laced 
 and bewigged like any fizgig of a girl would 
 have elbowed us from the wall to the gutter for 
 the sport of seeing M. Radisson s moccasins 
 slimed. 
 
 "Egad," says M. Radisson, "an I spill not 
 some sawdust out o these dolls, or cut their 
 stay-strings, may the gutter take us for good 
 and all! Pardieu! An your wig s the latest fash 
 ion, the wits under t don t matter " 
 
 " Have a care, sir," I warned, " here comes 
 a fellow!" 
 
 Twas a dandy in pink of fashion with a 
 three-cornered hat coming over his face like 
 a waterspout, red-cheeked from carminative 
 and with the high look in his eyes of one who 
 saw common folk from the top of church stee 
 ple. His lips were parted enough to show his 
 teeth; and I warrant you my fine spark had 
 posed an hour at the looking-glass ere he got his 
 neck at the angle that brought out the swell 
 of his chest. He was dressed in red plush with 
 silk hose of the same colour and a square-cut, 
 tailed coat out of whose pockets stuck a roll of 
 paper missives. 
 
 (( Verse ready writ by some penny-a-liner for 
 any wench with cheap smiles," says M. Radisson 
 aloud. 
 
 298 
 
UNDER THE 1EGIS OF THE COURT 
 
 But the fellow came on like a strutting pea 
 cock with his head in air. Behind followed his 
 page with cloak and rapier. In one hand our 
 dandy carried his white gloves, in the other a 
 lace gewgaw heavy with musk, which he flut 
 tered in the face of every shopkeeper s daughter. 
 
 "Give the wall! Give the wall!" cries the 
 page. " Give the wall to Lieutenant Blood o 
 the Tower! " 
 
 " S blood," says M. Radisson insolently, 
 " let us send that snipe sprawling! " 
 
 At that was a mighty awakening on the part 
 of my fine gentleman. 
 
 " Blood is my name," says he. " Step 
 aside!" 
 
 " An Blood is its name," retorts M. Ra 
 disson, " tis bad blood; and I ve a mind to let 
 some of it, unless the thing gets out of my 
 way!" 
 
 With which M. Radisson whips out his 
 sword, and my grand beau condescends to look 
 at us. 
 
 "Boy," he commands, "call an officer!" 
 
 " Boy," shouts M. Radisson, " call a chirur- 
 geon to mend its toes! " and his blade cut a 
 swath across the dandy s shining pumps. 
 
 At that was a jump! 
 
 Whatever the beaux of King Charles s court 
 20 299 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 may have been, they were not cowards! Grasp 
 ing his sword from the page, the fellow made at 
 us. What with the lashing of the coachmen 
 riding post-haste to see the fray, the jostling 
 chairmen calling out " A fight! A fight! " and 
 the prentices yelling at the top of their voices 
 for "A watch! A watch!" we had had it hot 
 enough then and there for M. Radisson s sport; 
 but above the melee sounded another shrill 
 alarm, the " Gardez 1 eau! Gardy loo! " of some 
 French kitchen wench throwing her breakfast 
 slops to mid-road from the dwelling overhead.* 
 
 Only on the instant had I jerked M. Radis- 
 son back; and down they came dish-water 
 and coffee leavings and porridge scraps full on 
 the crown of my fine young gentleman, drench 
 ing his gay attire as it had been soaked in soap 
 suds of a week old. Something burst from his 
 lips a deal stronger than the modish French 
 oaths then in vogue. There was a shout from 
 the rabble. I dragged rather than led M. Ra- 
 disson pell-mell into a shop from front to rear, 
 over a score of garden walls, and out again from 
 rear to front, so that we gave the slip to all those 
 officers now running for the scene of the broil. 
 
 " Egad s life/ cried M. de Radisson, laugh- 
 
 * The old expression which the law compelled before 
 throwing slops in mid-street. 
 
 300 
 
UNDER THE 1EGIS OF THE COURT 
 
 ing and laughing, " tis the narrowest escape 
 I ve ever had! Pardieu to escape the north sea 
 and drown in dish-water! Lord to beat devils 
 and be snuffed out by a wench in petticoats! 
 Tis the martyrdom of heroes! What a tale 
 for the court! " 
 
 And he laughed and laughed again till I 
 must needs call a chair to get him away from 
 onlookers. In the shop of a draper a thought 
 struck him. 
 
 " Egad, lad, that young blade was Blood! " 
 
 " So he told you." 
 
 " Did he? Son of the Blood who stole the 
 crown ten years ago, and got your own Stan 
 hope lands in reward from the king! " 
 
 What memories were his words bringing 
 back? M. Picot in the hunting-room telling 
 me of Blood, the freebooter and swordsman. 
 And that brings me to the real reason for our 
 plundering the linen-drapers shops before pre 
 senting ourselves at Sir John Kirke s mansion in 
 Drury Lane, where gentlemen with one eye 
 cocked on the doings of the nobility in the west 
 and the other keen for city trade were wont to 
 live in those days. 
 
 For six years M. Radisson had not seen Mis 
 tress Mary Kirke as his wife styled herself 
 after he broke from the English and I had not 
 301 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 heard one word of Hortense for nigh as many 
 months. Say what you will of the dandified 
 dolls who wasted half a day before the looking- 
 glass in the reign of Charles Stuart, there are 
 times when the bravest of men had best look 
 twice in the glass ere he set himself to the task 
 of conquering fair eyes. We did not drag our 
 linen through a scent bath nor loll all morning 
 in the hands of a man milliner charged with the 
 duty of turning us into showmen s dummies 
 as was the way of young sparks in that age. 
 
 But that was how I came to buy yon mon 
 strous wig costing forty guineas and weighing 
 ten pounds and coming half-way to a man s 
 waist. And you may set it down to M. Radis- 
 son s credit that he went with his wiry hair fly 
 ing wild as a lion s mane. Nothing I could say 
 would make him exchange his Indian moccasins 
 for the high-heeled pumps with a buckle at the 
 instep. 
 
 " I suppose," he had conceded grudgingly, 
 " we must have a brat to carry swords and 
 cloaks for us, or we ll be taken for some o your 
 cheap-jack hucksters parading latest fashions," 
 and he bade our host of the Star and Garter 
 have some lad searched out for us by the time 
 we should be coming home from Sir John 
 Kirke s that night. 
 
 302 
 
UNDER THE 1EGIS OF THE COURT 
 
 A mighty personage with fat chops and 
 ruddy cheeks and rounded waistcoat and pad 
 ded calves received us at the door of Sir John 
 Kirke s house in Drury Lane. Sir John was not 
 yet back from the Exchange, this grand fellow 
 loftily informed us at the entrance to the house. 
 A glance told him that we had neither page-boy 
 nor private carriage; and he half-shut the door 
 in our faces. 
 
 " Now the devil take this thing for a half- 
 baked, back-stairs, second-hand kitchen gentle 
 man," hissed M. Radisson, pushing in. " Here, 
 my fine fellow," says he with a largesse of vails 
 his purse could ill afford, " here, you sauce 
 pans, go tell Madame Radisson her husband is 
 here!" 
 
 I have always held that the vulgar like inso 
 lence nigh as well as silver; and Sieur Radisson s 
 air sent the feet of the kitchen steward pattering. 
 "Confound him!" muttered Radisson, as we 
 both went stumbling over footstools into the 
 dark of Sir John s great drawing-room, " Con 
 found him! An a man treats a man as a man in 
 these stuffed match-boxes o towns, looking 
 man as a man on the level square in the eye, he 
 only gets himself slapped in the face for it! An 
 there s to be any slapping in the face, be the 
 first to do it, boy! A man s a man by the meas- 
 303 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 ure of his stature in the wilderness. Here, tis 
 by the measure of his clothes " > 
 
 But a great rustling of flounced petticoats 
 down the hallway broke in on his speech, and a 
 little lady had jumped at me with a cry of 
 "Pierre, Pierre!" when M. Radisson s long 
 arms caught her from her feet. 
 
 " You don t even remember what your own 
 husband looked like," said he. " Ah, Mary, 
 Mary don t dear me! I m only dear when the 
 court takes me up! But, egad," says he, setting 
 her down on her feet, " you may wager these 
 pretty ringlets of yours, I m mighty dear for the 
 gilded crew this time! " 
 
 Madame Radisson said she was glad of it; 
 for when Pierre was rich they could take a fine 
 house in the West End like my Lord So-and-So; 
 but in the next breath she begged him not to 
 call the Royalists a gilded crew. 
 
 " And who is this? " she asked, turning to 
 me as the servants brought in candles. 
 
 " Egad, and you might have asked that be 
 fore you tried to kiss him! You always did have 
 a pretty choice, Mary! I knew it when you took 
 me! That," says he, pointing to me, " that is the 
 kite s tail!" 
 
 "But for convenience sake, perhaps the kite s 
 tail may have a name," retorts Madame Radisson. 
 304 
 
UNDER THE #1GIS OF THE COURT 
 
 " To be sure to be sure Stanhope, a 
 young Royalist kinsman of yours." 
 
 " Royalist? " reiterates Mary Kirke with a 
 worjd of meaning to the high-keyed question, 
 " then my welcome was no mistake! Welcome 
 waits Royalists here," and she gave me her hand 
 to kiss just as an elderly woman with monster 
 white ringlets all about her face and bejewelled 
 fingers and bare shoulders and flowing draperies 
 swept into the room, followed by a serving-maid 
 and a page-boy. With the aid of two men, her 
 daughter, a serving-maid, and the page, it took 
 her all of five minutes by the clock to get her 
 self seated. But when her slippered feet were 
 on a Persian rug and the displaced ringlets of 
 her monster wig adjusted by the waiting abigail 
 and smelling-salts put on a marquetry table near 
 by and the folds of the gown righted by the 
 page-boy, Lady Kirke extended a hand to re 
 ceive our compliments. I mind she called Ra- 
 disson her " dear, sweet savage," and bade him 
 have a care not to squeeze the stones of her 
 rings into the flesh of her fingers. 
 
 " As if any man would want to squeeze such 
 a ragbag o tawdry finery and milliners tinsel," 
 said Radisson afterward to me. 
 
 I, being younger, was " a dear, bold fellow," 
 with a tap of her fan to the words and a look 
 305 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 over the top of it like to have come from some 
 saucy jade of sixteen. 
 
 After which the serving-maid must hand the 
 smelling-salts and the page-boy haste to stroke 
 out her train. 
 
 " Egad," says Radisson when my lady had 
 informed us that Sir John would await Sieur 
 Radisson s coming at the Fur Company s offices, 
 " egad, there ll be no getting Ramsay away till 
 he sees some one else! " 
 
 "And who is that?" simpers Lady Kirke, 
 languishing behind her fan. 
 
 "Who, indeed, but the little maid we sent 
 from the north sea." 
 
 " La," cries Lady Kirke with a sudden liven 
 ing, " an you always do as well for us all, we can 
 forgive you, Pierre! The courtiers have cried 
 her up and cried her up, till your pretty savage 
 of the north sea is like to become the first lady 
 of the land! Sir John comes home with your 
 letter to me boy, the smelling-salts! so! 
 and I say to him, Sir John, take the story to 
 His Royal Highness! Good lack, Pierre, no 
 sooner hath the Duke of York heard the tale 
 than off he goes with it to King Charles! His 
 Majesty hath an eye for a pretty baggage. Oh, 
 I promise you, Pierre, you have done finely for 
 us all! " 
 
 306 
 
UNDER THE ^GIS OF THE COURT 
 
 And the lady must simper and smirk and tap 
 Pierre Radisson with her fan, with a glimmer of 
 ill-meaning through her winks and nods that 
 might have brought the blush to a woman s 
 cheeks in Commonwealth days. 
 
 " Madame," cried Pierre Radisson with his 
 eyes ablaze, " that sweet child came to no harm 
 or wrong among our wilderness of savages! An 
 she come to harm in a Christian court, by 
 Heaven, somebody ll answer me for t!" 
 
 "Lackaday! Hoighty-toighty, Pierre! How 
 you stamp! The black-eyed monkey hath been 
 named maid of honour to Queen Catherine! 
 How much better could we have done for her? " 
 
 " Maid of honour to the lonely queen? " says 
 Radisson. " That is well! " 
 
 " She is ward of the court till a husband be 
 found for her," continues Lady Kirke. 
 
 " There will be plenty willing to be found," 
 says Pierre Radisson, looking me wondrous 
 straight in the eye. 
 
 " Not so sure not so sure, Pierre! We 
 catch no glimpse of her nowadays; but they say 
 young Lieutenant Blood o the Tower shadows 
 the court wherever she is 
 
 " A well-dressed young man? " adds Radis 
 son, winking at me. 
 
 " And carries himself with a grand air," am- 
 307 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 plifies my lady, puffing out her chest, " but then, 
 Pierre, when it comes to the point, your pretty 
 wench hath no dower no property " 
 
 "Heaven be p.raised for that!" burst from 
 my lips. 
 
 At which there was a sudden silence, fol 
 lowed by sudden laughter to my confusion. 
 
 " And so Master Stanhope came seeking the 
 bird that had flown," twitted Radisson s mother- 
 in-law. " Faugh faugh to have had the bird 
 in his hand and to let it go! But ta-ta! " she 
 laughed, tapping my arm with her fan, " some 
 one else is here who keeps asking and asking for 
 Master Stanhope. Boy," she ordered, " tell thy 
 master s guest to come down! " 
 
 Two seconds later entered little Rebecca of 
 Boston Town. Blushing pink as apple-blos 
 soms, dressed demurely as of old, with her 
 glances playing a shy hide-and-seek under the 
 downcast lids, she seemed as alien to the arti 
 ficial grandeur about her as meadow violets to 
 the tawdry splendour of a flower-dyer s shop. 
 
 " Fie, fie, sly ladybird," called out Sir John s 
 wife, " here are friends of yours! " 
 
 At sight of us, she uttered a little gasp of 
 pleasure. 
 
 " So so so joysome to see Boston folk," 
 she stammered. 
 
 308 
 
 
UNDER THE ^EGIS OF THE COURT 
 
 "Fie, fie!" laughed Lady Kirke. "Doth 
 Boston air bring red so quick to all faces? " 
 
 " If they be not painted too deep," said 
 Pierre Radisson loud and distinct. And I doubt 
 not the coquettish old dame blushed red, though 
 the depth of paint hid it from our eyes; for she 
 held her tongue long enough for me to lead 
 Rebecca to an alcove window. 
 
 Some men are born to jump in sudden-made 
 gaps. Such an one was Pierre Radisson; for he 
 set himself between his wife and Lady Kirke, 
 where he kept them achattering so fast they had 
 no time to note little Rebecca s unmasked con 
 fusion. 
 
 " This is an unexpected pleasure, Rebecca! " 
 
 She glanced up as if to question me. 
 
 " Your fine gallants have so many fine 
 speeches 
 
 " Have you been here long? " 
 
 " A month. My father came to see about 
 the furs that Ben Gillam lost in the bay," ex 
 plains Rebecca. 
 
 " Oh! " said I, vouching no more. 
 
 " The ship was sent back," continues Re 
 becca, all innocent of the nature of her father s 
 venture, " and my father hopes that King 
 Charles may get the French to return the value 
 of the furs." 
 
 309 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 There was a little silence. The other 
 tongues prattled louder. Rebecca leaned to 
 wards me. 
 
 " Have you seen her? " she asked. 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 She gave an impetuous little shake of her 
 head. " You know," she said. 
 
 "Well?" I asked. 
 
 " She hath taken me through all the grand 
 places, Ramsay; through Whitehall and Hamp 
 ton Court and the Tower! She hath come to 
 see me every week! " 
 
 I said nothing. 
 
 To-morrow she goes to Oxford with the 
 queen. She is not happy, Ramsay. She says 
 she feels like a caged bird. Ramsay, why did 
 she love that north land where the wicked 
 Frenchman took her? " 
 
 " I don t know, Rebecca. She once said it 
 was strong and pure and free." 
 
 " Did you see her oft, Ramsay? " 
 
 " No, Rebecca; only at dinner on Sundays." 
 
 "And and all the officers were there on 
 the Sabbath?" 
 
 "All the officers were there! " 
 
 She sat silent, eyes downcast, thinking. 
 
 " Ramsay? " 
 
 310 
 
UNDER THE ^EGIS OF THE COURT 
 
 " Well? " 
 
 " Hortense will be marrying some grand 
 
 courtier." 
 
 " May he be worthy of her." 
 
 " I think many ask her." 
 
 " And what does Mistress Hortense say? " 
 
 " I think," answers Rebecca meditatively, 
 " from the quantity of love-verse writ, she must 
 keep saying No." 
 
 Then Lady Kirke turns to bid us all go to 
 the Duke s Theatre, where the king s suite 
 would appear that night. Rebecca, of course, 
 would not go. Her father would be expecting 
 her when he came home, she said. So Pierre 
 Radisson and I escorted Lady Kirke and her 
 daughter to the play, riding in one of those pon 
 derous coaches, with four belaced footmen 
 clinging behind and postillions before. At the 
 entrance to the playhouse was a great con 
 course of crowding people, masked ladies, court 
 iers with pages carrying torches for the return 
 after dark, merchants with linkmen, work folk 
 with lanterns, noblemen elbowing tradesmen 
 from the wall, tradesmen elbowing mechanics; 
 all pushing and jostling and cracking their jokes 
 with a freedom of speech that would have cost 
 dear in Boston Town. The beaux, I mind, had 
 ready-writ love-verses sticking out of pockets 
 3" 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 thick as bailiffs yellow papers; so that a gallant 
 could have stocked his own munitions by pick 
 ing up the missives dropped at the feet of dis- 
 dainfuls. Of the play, I recall nothing but that 
 some favourite of the king, Mary Davies, or 
 the famous Nell, or some such an one, danced 
 a monstrous bold jig. Indeed, our grand peo 
 ple, taking their cue from the courtiers boxes, 
 affected a mighty contempt for the play, except 
 when a naughty jade on the boards stepped 
 high, or blew a kiss to some dandy among the 
 noted folk. For aught I could make out, they 
 did not come to hear, but to be heard; the ladies 
 chattering and ogling; the gallants stalking 
 from box to box and pit to gallery, waving 
 their scented handkerchiefs, striking a pose 
 where the greater part of the audience could see 
 the flash of beringed ringers, or taking a pinch 
 of snuff with a snap of the lid to call attention 
 to its gold-work and naked goddesses. 
 
 " Drat these tradespeople, kinsman! " says 
 Lady Kirke, as a fat townsman and his wife 
 pushed past us, " drat these tradespeople! " says 
 she as we were taking our place in one of the 
 boxes, " tis monstrous gracious of the king to 
 come among them at all! " 
 
 Methought her memory of Sir John s career 
 had been suddenly clipped short; but Pierre Ra- 
 312 
 
UNDER THE ^GIS OF THE COURT 
 
 clisson only smiled solemnly. Some jokes, like 
 dessert, are best taken cold, not hot. 
 
 Then there was a craning of necks; and the 
 king s party came in, His Majesty grown sallow 
 with years but gay and nonchalant as ever, with 
 Barillon, the French ambassador, on one side 
 and Her Grace of Portsmouth on the other. 
 Behind came the whole court; the Duchess of 
 Cleveland, whom our wits were beginning to 
 call " a perennial," because she held her power 
 with the king and her lovers increased with 
 age; statesmen hanging upon her for a look or 
 a smile that might lead the way to the king s 
 ear; Sir George Jeffreys, the judge, whose name 
 was to become England s infamy; Queen Cathe 
 rine of Braganza, keeping up hollow mirth with 
 those whose presence was insult; the Duke of 
 York, soberer than his royal brother, the king, 
 since Monmouth s menace to the succession; 
 and a host of hangers-on ready to swear away 
 England s liberties for a licking of the crumbs 
 that fell from royal lips. 
 
 Then the hum of the playhouse seemed as 
 the beating of the north sea; for Lady Kirke was 
 whispering, "There! There! There she is!" 
 and Hortense was entering one of the royal 
 boxes accompanied by a foreign-looking, elder 
 ly woman, and that young Lieutenant Blood, 
 3 3 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 whom we had encountered earlier in the 
 day. 
 
 " The countess from Portugal Her Majes 
 ty s friend," murmurs Lady Kirke. " Ah, 
 Pierre, you have done finely for us all! " 
 
 And there oozed over my Lady Kirke s 
 countenance as fine a satisfaction as ever radi 
 ated from the face of a sweating cook. 
 
 " How? " asks Pierre Radisson, pursing his 
 lips. 
 
 " Sir John hath dined twice with His Royal 
 Highness " 
 
 " The Duke is Governor of the Company, 
 and Sir John is a director." 
 
 " Ta-ta, now there you go, Pierre!" smirks 
 my lady. " An your pretty baggage had not 
 such a saucy way with the men why who can 
 tell -" 
 
 " Madame," interrupted Pierre Radisson, 
 "God forbid! There be many lords amaking 
 in strange ways, but we of the wilderness only 
 count honour worth when it s won honourably." 
 
 But Lady Kirke bare heard the rebuke. 
 She was all eyes for the royal box. " La, now, 
 Pierre," she cries, "see! The king hath recog 
 nised you!" She lurched forward into fuller 
 view of onlookers as she spoke. " Wella- 
 day! Good lack! Pierre Radisson, I do believe! 
 3H 
 
UNDER THE 1EGIS OF THE COURT 
 
 Yes! See! His Majesty is sending for 
 you!" 
 
 And a page in royal colours appeared to 
 say that the king commanded Pierre Radisson to 
 present himself in the royal box. With his wiry 
 hair wild as it had ever been on the north sea, 
 off he went, all unconscious of the contemptu 
 ous looks from courtier and dandy at his strange, 
 half-savage dress. And presently Pierre Radis 
 son is seated in the king s presence, chatting 
 unabashed, the cynosure of all eyes. At the stir, 
 Hortense had turned towards us. For a mo 
 ment the listless hauteur gave place to a scarce 
 hidden start. Then the pallid face had looked 
 indifferently away. 
 
 " The huzzy! " mutters Lady Kirke. " She 
 might a bowed in sight of the whole house! 
 Hoighty-toighty! We shall see, an the little 
 moth so easily blinded by court glare is not 
 singed for its vanity! Ungrateful baggage! 
 See how she sits, not deigning to listen one word 
 of all the young lieutenant is saying! Mary? " 
 
 " Yes " 
 
 " You mind I told her I warned the saucy 
 miss to give more heed to the men to remem 
 ber what it might mean to us " 
 
 " Yes," adds Madame Radisson, " and she 
 
 said she hated the court " 
 
 21 315 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 "Faugh!" laughs Lady Kirke, fussing and 
 fuming and shifting her place like a peacock 
 with ruffled plumage, " pride before the fall 
 I ll warrant, you men spoiled her in the north! 
 Very fine, forsooth, when a pauper wench from 
 no one knows where may slight the first ladies 
 of the land!" 
 
 " Madame," said I, " you are missing the 
 play!" 
 
 " Master Stanhope," said she, " the play 
 must be marvellous moving! Where is your 
 colour of a moment ago? " 
 
 I had no response to her railing. It was as 
 if that look of Hortense had come from across 
 the chasm that separated the old order from the 
 new. In the wilderness she was in distress, I 
 her helper. Here she was of the court and I 
 a common trader. Such fools does pride 
 make of us, and so prone are we to doubt an 
 other s faith! 
 
 " One slight was enough," Lady Kirke was 
 vowing with a toss of her head; and we none of 
 us gave another look to the royal boxes that 
 night, though all about the wits were cracking 
 their jokes against M. Radisson s "Medusa 
 locks," or " the king s idol, with feet of clay and 
 face of brass," thereby meaning M. Radisson s 
 moccasins and swarth skin. At the door we 
 316 
 
UNDER THE &GIS OF THE COURT 
 
 were awaiting M. Radisson s return when the 
 royal company came out. I turned suddenly 
 and met Hortense s eyes blazing with a hauteur 
 that forbade recognition. Beside her in lover- 
 like pose lolled that milliners dummy whom we 
 had seen humbled in the morning. 
 
 Then, promising to rejoin Pierre Radisson 
 at the Fur Company s offices, I made my adieux 
 to the Kirkes and flung out among those wild 
 revellers who scoured London streets of a dark 
 night. 
 
 317 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 JACK BATTLE AGAIN 
 
 THE higher one s hopes mount the farther 
 they have to fall; and I, who had mounted to stars 
 with Hortense, was pushed to the gutter by the 
 king s dragoons making way for the royal equi 
 page. There was a crackling of whips among 
 the king s postillions. A yeoman thrust the 
 crowd back with his pike. The carriages rolled 
 past. The flash of a linkman s torch revealed 
 Hortense sitting languid and scornful between 
 the foreign countess and that milliner s dummy 
 of a lieutenant. Then the royal carriages were 
 lost in the darkness, and the streets thronged by 
 a rabble of singing, shouting, hilarious revellers. 
 
 Different generations have different ways of 
 taking their pleasure, and the youth of King 
 Charles s day were alternately bullies on the 
 street and dandies at the feet of my lady disdain 
 ful. At the approach of the shouting, night- 
 watchmen threw down their lanterns and took 
 to their heels. Street-sweeps tossed their 
 
JACK BATTLE AGAIN 
 
 brooms in mid-road with cries of " The Scovver- 
 ers! The Scowerers! " Hucksters fled into the 
 dark of side lanes. Shopkeepers shot their 
 door-bolts. Householders blew out lights. 
 Fruit-venders made off without their baskets, 
 and small urchins shrieked the alarm of " Baby- 
 eaters! Baby-eaters! " 
 
 One sturdy watch, I mind, stood his guard, 
 laying about with a stout pike in a way that 
 broke our fine revellers heads like soft pump 
 kins; but him they stood upon his crown in some 
 goodwife s rain-barrel with his lantern tied to his 
 heels. At the rush of the rabble for shelves of 
 cakes and pies, one shopman levelled his blun 
 derbuss. That brought shouts of " A sweat! A 
 sweat! " In a twinkling the rascals were about 
 him. A sword pricked from behind. The fellow 
 jumped. Another prick, and yet another, till 
 the good man was dancing such a jig the sweat 
 rolled from his fat jowls and he roared out prom 
 ise to feast the whole rout. A peddler of small 
 images had lingered to see the sport, and enough 
 of it he had, I promise you; for they dumped him 
 into his wicker basket and trundled it through 
 the gutter till the peddler and his little white 
 saints were black as chimney-sweeps. Nor did 
 our merry blades play their pranks on poor folk 
 alone. At Will s Coffee House, where sat Dry- 
 319 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 den and other mighty quidnuncs spinning their 
 poetry and politics over full cups, before mine 
 host got his doors barred our fellows had 
 charged in, seized one of the great wits and set 
 him singing Gammer Gurton s Needle, till the 
 gentlemen were glad to put down pennies for 
 the company to drink healths. 
 
 By this I had enough of your gentleman 
 bully s brawling, and I gave the fellows the slip 
 to meet Pierre Radisson at the General Council 
 of Hudson s Bay Adventurers to be held in John 
 Horth s offices in Broad Street. Our gentlemen 
 adventurers were mighty jealous of their se 
 crets in those days. I think they imagined their 
 great game-preserve a kind of Spanish gold-mine 
 safer hidden from public ken, and they held their 
 meetings with an air of mystery that pirates 
 might have worn. For my part, I do not believe 
 there were French spies hanging round Horth s 
 office for knowledge of the Fur Company s do 
 ings, though the doorkeeper, who gave me a 
 chair in the anteroom, reported that a strange- 
 looking fellow with a wife as from foreign parts 
 had been asking for me all that day, and refused 
 to leave till he had learned the address of my 
 lodgings. 
 
 " Ave ye taken the hoath of hallegiance, 
 sir? " asked the porter. 
 
 320 
 
JACK BATTLE AGAIN 
 
 " I was born in England," said I dryly. 
 
 " Your renegade of a French savage is atak- 
 in the hoath now," confided the porter, jerking 
 his thumb towards the inner door. They do 
 say as ow it is for love of Mary Kirke and not 
 the English- 
 
 " Your renegade of a French who? " I 
 asked sharply, thinking it ill omen to hear a 
 flunkey of the English Company speaking light 
 ly of our leader. 
 
 But at the question the fellow went glum 
 with a tipping and bowing and begging of par 
 don. Then the councillors began to come: Ar 
 lington and Ashley of the court, one of those 
 Carterets, who had been on the Boston Commis 
 sion long ago and first induced M. Radisson to 
 go to England, and at last His Royal Highness 
 the Duke of York, deep in conversation with my 
 kinsman, Sir John Kirke. 
 
 " It can do no harm to employ him for one 
 trip," Sir John was saying. 
 
 " He hath taken the oath? " asks His Royal 
 Highness. 
 
 " He is taking it to-night; but," laughs Sir 
 John, " we thought he was a good Englishman 
 once before." 
 
 " Your company used him ill. You must 
 keep him from going over to the French again." 
 321 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 Till he undo the evil he has done till he 
 capture back all that he took from us then," 
 says Sir John cautiously, " then we must con 
 sider whether it be politic to keep a gamester in 
 the company." 
 
 "Anyway," adds His Highness, "France 
 will not take him back." 
 
 And the door closed on the councillors while 
 I awaited Radisson in the anteroom. A mo 
 ment later Pierre Radisson came out with eyes 
 alight and face elate. 
 
 " I ve signed to sail in three days," he an 
 nounced. "Do you go with me or no?" 
 
 Two memories came back: one of a face be 
 tween a westering sun and a golden sea, and I 
 hesitated; the other, of a cold, pallid, disdainful 
 look from the royal box. 
 " I go." 
 
 And entering the council chamber, I signed 
 the papers without one glance at the terms. 
 Gentlemen sat all about the long table, and at 
 
 the head was the governor of the company the 
 
 Duke of York, talking freely with M. de Ra 
 disson. 
 
 My Lord Ashley would know if anything but 
 furs grew in that wild New World. 
 
 "Furs?" says M. Radisson. "Sir, mark 
 my words, tis a world that grows empires also 
 322 
 
JACK BATTLE AGAIN 
 
 men," with an emphasis which those court dan 
 dies could not understand. 
 
 But the wise gentlemen only smiled at M. 
 Radisson s warmth. 
 
 " If it grew good soldiers for our wars- 
 begins one military gentleman. 
 
 " Aye," flashes back M. Radisson ironically, 
 " if it grows men for your wars and your butch 
 ery and your shambles! Mark my words: it is 
 a land that grows men good for more than kill 
 ing," and he smiles half in bitterness. 
 
 " Tis a prodigious expensive land in diplo 
 macy when men like you are let loose in it," re 
 marks Arlington. 
 
 His Royal Highness rose to take his leave. 
 
 " You will present a full report to His Maj 
 esty at Oxford," he orders M. Radisson in part 
 ing. 
 
 Then the council dispersed. 
 
 " Oxford," says M. Radisson, as we picked 
 our way home through the dark streets; " an I 
 go to meet the king at Oxford, you will see a 
 hornets nest of jealousy about my ears." 
 
 I did not tell him of the double work implied 
 in Sir John s words with the prince, for Sir John 
 Kirke was Pierre Radisson s father-in-law. At 
 the door of the Star and Garter mine host calls 
 out that a strange-looking fellow wearing a griz- 
 323 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 zled beard and with a wife as from foreign parts 
 had been waiting all afternoon for me in my 
 rooms. 
 
 " From foreign parts! " repeats M. Radisson, 
 getting into a chair to go to Sir John s house in 
 Drury Lane. " If they re French spies, send 
 them right about, Ramsay! We ve stopped 
 gamestering! " 
 
 " We have; but perhaps the others haven t." 
 
 " Let them game," laughs M. Radisson 
 scornfully, as the chair moved off. 
 
 Not knowing what to expect I ran up-stairs 
 to my room. At the door I paused. That 
 morning I had gone from the house light-heart 
 ed. Now interest had died from life. I had but 
 one wish, to reach that wilderness of swift con 
 flict, where thought has no time for regret. The 
 door was ajar. A coal fire burned on the hearth. 
 Sitting on the floor were two figures with backs 
 towards me, a ragged, bearded man and a woman 
 with a shawl over her head. What fools does 
 hope make of us! I had almost called out Hor- 
 tense s name when the noise of the closing door 
 caught their hearing. I was in the north again; 
 an Indian girl was on her knees clinging to my 
 feet, sobbing out incoherent gratitude; a pair 
 of arms were belabouring my shoulders; and 
 a voice was saying with broken gurgles of joy: 
 324 
 
JACK BATTLE AGAIN 
 
 "Ship ahoy, there! Ease your helm! Don t 
 heave all your ballast overboard! "a clapping 
 of hands on my back " Port your helm! Ease 
 her up! All sheets in the wind and the storms l 
 aflutter! Ha ha!" with a wringing and a 
 wringing like to wrench my hands off " Anchor 
 out! Haul away! Home with her . . . ! " 
 "Jack Battle!" 
 It was all I could say. 
 
 There he was, grizzled and bronzed and 
 weather-worn, laughing with joy and thrashing 
 his arms about as if to belabour me again. 
 " But who is this, Jack? " 
 I lifted the Indian woman from her knees. It 
 was the girl my blow had saved that morning 
 long ago. 
 
 " Who what is this? " 
 
 " My wife," says Jack, swinging his arms 
 afresh and proud as a prince. 
 
 "Your wife? . . . Where . . . who married 
 you?" 
 
 " There warn t no parson," says Jack, " that 
 is, there warn t no parson nearer nor three thou 
 sand leagues and more. And say," adds Jack, 
 " I s pose there was marryin afore there could be 
 parsons! She saved my life. She hain t no folks. 
 I hain t no folks. She got away that morning o 
 the massacre she see them take us captive she 
 325 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 gets a white pelt to hide her agen the snow she 
 come, she do all them cold miles and lets me 
 loose when the braves ain t watching . . . she 
 risks her life to save my life she don t belong to 
 nobody. I don t belong to nobody. There 
 waren t no parson, but we re married tight . . . 
 and and let not man put asunder," says Jack. 
 
 For full five minutes there was not a word. 
 
 The east was trying to understand the 
 west! 
 
 " Amen, Jack," said I. " God bless you 
 you are a man! " 
 
 " We mean to get a parson and have it done 
 straight yet," explained Jack, "but I wanted 
 you to stand by me " 
 
 " Faith, Jack, you ve done it pretty thorough 
 without any help " 
 
 " Yes, but folks won t understand," pleaded 
 Jack, " and and I d do as much for you I 
 wanted you to stand by me and tell me where to 
 say yes when the parson reads the words " 
 
 " All right I shall," I promised, laughing. 
 
 If only Hortense could know all this! That 
 is the sorrow of rifted lives the dark between, 
 on each side the thoughts that yearn. 
 
 " And and," Jack was stammering on, " I 
 thought, perhaps, Mistress Rebecca d be will 
 ing to stand by Mizza," nodding to the young 
 326 
 
JACK BATTLE AGAIN 
 
 squaw, " that is, if you asked Rebecca," pleaded 
 Jack. 
 
 " We ll see," said I. 
 
 For the New England conscience was some 
 thing to reckon with! 
 
 " How did you come here? " I asked. 
 
 " Mizza snared rabbits and I stole back my 
 musket when we ran away and did some shoot 
 ing long as powder lasted 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 " And then we used bow and arrow. We hid 
 in the bush till the hostiles quit cruisin ; but the 
 spring storms caught us when we started for the 
 coast. I s pose I m a better sailor on water than 
 land, for split me for a herring if my eyes didn t 
 go blind from snow! We hove to in the woods 
 again, Mizza snaring rabbit and building a lodge 
 and keepin fire agoin and carin for me as if I 
 deserved it. There I lay water-logged, odd s 
 man blind as a mole till the spring thaws came. 
 Then Mizza an me built a raft; for sez I to Miz, 
 though she didn t understand : Miz, sez I, 
 water don t flow uphill! If we rig up a craft, 
 that river ll carry us to the bay! But she only 
 gets down on the ground the way she did with 
 you and puts my foot on her neck. Lordy," 
 laughs Jack, " s pose I don t know what a foot 
 on a neck feels like? I sez: Miz, if you ever do 
 327 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 that again, I ll throw you overboard! Then 
 the backwash came so strong from the bay, we 
 had to wait till the floods settled. While we 
 swung at anchorman, what d y think happened? 
 I taught Miz English. Soon as ever she knew 
 words enough I told her if I was a captain I d 
 want a mate! She didn t catch the wind o that, 
 lad, till we were navigating our raft down 
 stream agen the ice-jam. Ship ahoy, you know, 
 the ice was like to nip us, and lackin a life-belt 
 I put me arm round her waist! Ease your helm! 
 Port a little! Haul away! But she under 
 stood when she saw me save her from the jam 
 before I saved myself." 
 
 And Jack Battle stood away arm s length 
 from his Indian wife and laughed his pride. 
 
 " And by the time we d got to the bay you d 
 gone, but Jean Groseillers sent us to the English 
 ship that came out expecting to find Governor 
 Brigdar at Nelson. We shipped with the com 
 pany boat, and here we be." 
 
 " And what are you going to do? " 
 
 " Oh, I get work enough on the docks to 
 pay for Mizza s lessons " 
 
 "Lessons?" 
 
 " Yes she s learning sewin and readin 
 from the nuns, and as soon as she s baptized 
 we re going to be married regular." 
 328 
 
JACK BATTLE AGAIN 
 
 " Oh! " A sigh of relief escaped me. " Then 
 you ll not need Rebecca for six months or 
 
 " No; but you ll ask her? " pleaded Jack. 
 
 " If I m here." 
 
 As they were going out Jack slipped back 
 from the hallway to the fireplace, leaving Mizza 
 outside. 
 
 "Ramsay?" 
 
 " Yes? " 
 
 " You think it s it s all right? " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " What I done about a mate? " 
 
 " Right? " I reiterated. " Here s my hand 
 to you blessing on the voyage, Captain Jack 
 Battle!" 
 
 " Ah," smiled Jack, " you ve been to the wil 
 derness you understand! Other folks don t! 
 That is the way it happens out there! " 
 
 He lingered as of old when there was more 
 to come. 
 
 " Ramsay? " 
 
 " Sail away, captain! " 
 
 " Have you seen Hortense? " he asked, look 
 ing straight at me. 
 
 " Urn yes no that is I have and I 
 haven t." 
 
 "Why haven t you?" 
 329 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " Because having become a grand lady, her 
 ladyship didn t choose to see me." 
 
 Jack Battle turned on his heel and swore a 
 seaman s oath. " That that s a lie," said he. 
 
 " Very well it s a lie, but this is what hap 
 pened," and I told him of the scene in the the 
 atre. Jack pulled a puzzled face, looking 
 askance as he listened. 
 
 " Why didn t you go round to her box, the 
 way M. Radisson did to the king s? " 
 
 " You forget I am only a trader! " 
 
 " Pah," says Jack, " that is nothing! " 
 
 " You forget that Lieutenant Blood might 
 have objected to my visit," and I told him of 
 Blood. 
 
 " But how was Mistress Hortense to know 
 that?" 
 
 Wounded pride hugs its misery, and I an 
 swered nothing. 
 
 At the door he stopped. You go along 
 with Radisson to Oxford," he called. "The 
 court will be there." 
 
 330 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 AT OXFORD 
 
 RIOTING through London streets or playing 
 second in M. Radisson s games of empire, it was 
 possible to forget her, but not in Oxford with 
 the court retinue all about and the hedgerows 
 abloom and spring-time in the air. M. Radisson 
 had gone to present his reports to the king. 
 With a vague belief that chance might work 
 some miracle, I accompanied M. Radisson till we 
 encountered the first belaced fellow of the King s 
 Guard. Twas outside the porter s lodge of the 
 grand house where the king had been pleased to 
 breakfast that morning. 
 
 " And what might this young man want? " 
 demanded the fellow, with lordly belligerence, 
 letting M. Radisson pass without question. 
 
 Your colonial hero will face the desperate 
 chance of death; but not the smug arrogance of 
 a beliveried flunkey. 
 
 " Wait here," says M. Radisson to me, for 
 getful of Hortense now that his own end was 
 won. 
 
 331 
 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 And I struck through the copse-wood, telling 
 myself that chance makes grim sport. Ah, well, 
 the toughening of the wilderness is not to be 
 undone by fickle fingers, however dainty, nor a 
 strong life blown out by a girl s caprice! Riders 
 went clanking past. I did not turn. Let those 
 that honoured dishonour doff hats to that com 
 pany of loose women and dissolute men! Hor- 
 tense was welcome to the womanish men and the 
 mannish women, to her dandified lieutenant and 
 foreign adventuresses and grand ambassadors, 
 who bought English honour with the smiles of 
 evil women. Coming to a high stone wall, I 
 saw two riders galloping across the open field 
 for the copse wood. 
 
 " A very good place to break foolish necks," 
 thought I; for the riders were coming straight 
 towards me, and a deep ditch ran along the other 
 side of the wall. 
 
 To clear the wall and then the ditch would 
 be easy enough; but to clear the ditch and then 
 the wall required as pretty a piece of foolhardy 
 horsemanship as hunters could find. Out of 
 sheer curiosity to see the end I slackened my 
 walk. A woman in green was leading the pace. 
 The man behind was shouting "Don t try it! 
 Don t try it! Ride round the end! Wait! 
 Wait! " But the woman came on as if her horse 
 332 
 
AT OXFORD 
 
 had the bit. Then all my mighty, cool stoicism 
 began thumping like a smith s forge. The 
 woman was Hortense, with that daring look on 
 her face I had seen come to it in the north land; 
 and her escort, young Lieutenant Blood, with 
 terror as plainly writ on his fan-shaped elbows 
 and pounding gait as if his horse were galloping 
 to perdition. 
 
 "Don t jump! Head about, Mistress Hil 
 lary! " cried the lieutenant. 
 
 But Hortense s lips tightened, the rein tight 
 ened, there was that lifting bound into air when 
 horse and rider are one the quick paying-out 
 of the rein the long, stretching leap the back 
 ward brace and the wall had been cleared. 
 But Blood s horse balked the jump, nigh send 
 ing him head over into the moat, and seizing the 
 bit, carried its cursing rider down the slope of the 
 field. In vain the lieutenant beat it about the 
 head and dug the spurs deep. The beast sidled 
 off each time he headed it up, or plunged at the 
 water s edge till Mistress Hortense cried out: 
 
 "Oh please! I cannot see you risk your 
 self on that beast! Oh please won t you ride 
 farther down where I can get back! " 
 
 " Ho away, then," calls Blood, mighty glad 
 of that way out of his predicament, " but don t 
 try the wall here again, Mistress Hillary! I pro- 
 333 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 test tis not safe for you! Ho away, then! I 
 race you to the end of the wall! " 
 
 And off he gallops, never looking back, keen 
 to clear the wall and meet my lady half-way up. 
 
 Hortense sat erect, reining her horse and 
 smiling at me. 
 
 " And so you would go away without seeing 
 me," she said, " and I must needs ride you down 
 at the risk of the lieutenant s neck." 
 
 " Tis the way of the proud with the hum 
 ble," I laughed back; but the laugh had no 
 mirth. 
 
 Her face went grave. She sat gazing at me 
 with that straight, honest look of the wilderness 
 which neither lies nor seeks a lie. 
 
 " Your horse is champing to be off, Hor 
 tense!" 
 
 Yes and if you looked you might see that 
 I am keeping him from going off." 
 
 I smiled at the poor jest as a court conceit. 
 
 " Or perhaps, if you tried, you might help me 
 to hold him," says Hortense, never taking her 
 search from my face. 
 
 " And defraud the lieutenant," said I. 
 
 " Ah! " says Hortense, looking away. " Are 
 you jealous of anything so small? " 
 
 I took hold of the bit and quieted the horse. 
 Hortense laughed. 
 
 *- 334 
 
AT OXFORD 
 
 " Were you so mighty proud the other night 
 that you could not come to see a humble ward 
 of the court? " she asked. 
 
 " I am only a poor trader now! " 
 
 " Ah," says Hortense, questioning my face 
 again, " I had thought you were only a poor 
 trader before! Was that the only reason?" 
 
 " To be sure, Hortense, the lieutenant would 
 not have welcomed me he might have told his 
 fellow to turn me out and made confusion." 
 
 And I related M. Radisson s morning en 
 counter with Lieutenant Blood, whereat Mis 
 tress Hortense uttered such merry peals of 
 laughter I had thought the chapel-bells were 
 chiming. 
 
 " Ramsay! " she cried impetuously, " I hate 
 this life why did you all send me to it? " 
 
 "Hate it! Why ?" 
 
 " Why ? " reiterated Hortense. " Why, 
 when a king, who is too busy to sign death-re 
 prieves, may spend the night hunting a single 
 moth from room to room of the palace? Why, 
 when ladies of the court dress in men s clothes 
 to run the streets with the Scowerers? Why, 
 when a duchess must take me every morning to 
 a milliner s shop, where she meets her lover, who 
 is a rope-walker? Why, when our sailors starve 
 unpaid and gold enough lies on the basset-table 
 335 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 of a Sunday night to feed the army? Ah, yes! " 
 says Hortense, " why do I hate this life? Why 
 must you and Madame Radisson and Lady 
 Kirke all push me here? " 
 
 " Hortense/ I broke in, " you were a ward 
 of the crown! What else was there for us to 
 do?" 
 
 "Ah, yes!" says Hortense, "what else? 
 You kept your promise, and a ward of the crown 
 must marry whom the king names " 
 
 "Marry?" 
 
 " Or or go to a nunnery abroad." 
 
 " A nunnery? " 
 
 "Ah, yes!" mocks Hortense, "what else is 
 thereto do?" 
 
 And at that comes Blood crashing through 
 the brush. 
 
 " Here, fellow, hands off that bridle! " 
 
 " The horse became restless. This gentle 
 man held him for me till you came." 
 
 " Gad s life! " cries the lieutenant, dismount 
 ing. " Let s see? " And he examines the girths 
 with a great show of concern. " A nasty tumble," 
 says he, as if Hortense had been rolled on. " All 
 sound, Mistress Hillary! Egad! You must not 
 ride such a wild beast! I protest, such risks are 
 too desperate! " And he casts up the whites of 
 his eyes at Mistress Hortense, laying his hand on 
 
 336 
 
AT OXFORD 
 
 his heart. "When did you feel him getting 
 away from you? " 
 
 " At the wall," says Hortense. 
 
 The lieutenant vaulted to his saddle. 
 
 "Here, fellow!" 
 
 He had tossed me a gold-piece. 
 
 They were off. I lifted the coin, balanced it 
 on my thumb, and flipped it ringing against the 
 wall. When I looked up, Hortense was laugh 
 ing back over her shoulder. 
 
 On May ijth we sailed from Gravesend in 
 the Happy Return, two ships accompanying us 
 for Hudson Bay, and a convoy of the Royal Ma 
 rine coming as far as the north of Scotland to 
 stand off Dutch highwaymen and Spanish 
 pirates. 
 
 But I made the news of Jack Battle s mar 
 riage the occasion of a letter to one of the 
 queen s maids of honour. 
 
 337 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 HOME FROM THE BAY 
 
 TWAS as fair sailing under English colours 
 as you could wish till Pierre Radisson had un 
 done all the mischief that he had worked against 
 the Fur Company in Hudson Bay. Pierre Ra 
 disson sits with a pipe in his mouth and his long 
 legs stretched clear across the cabin-table, spin 
 ning yarns of wild doings in savage lands, and 
 Governor Phipps, of the Hudson s Bay Com 
 pany, listens with eyes a trifle too sleepily watch 
 ful, methinks, for the Frenchman s good. A 
 summer sea kept us course all the way to the 
 northern bay, and sometimes Pierre Radisson 
 would fling out of the cabin, marching up and 
 down the deck muttering, "Pah! Tis tame 
 adventuring! Takes a dish o spray to salt the 
 freshness out o men! Tis the roaring forties 
 put nerve in a man s marrow! Soft days are 
 your Delilah s that shave away men s strength! 
 Toughen your fighters, Captain Gazer! Tough 
 en your fighters ! " 
 
 338 
 
HOME FROM THE BAY 
 
 And once, when M. Radisson had passed be 
 yond hearing, the governor turns with a sleepy 
 laugh to the captain. 
 
 " A pox on the rantipole! " says he. " May 
 the sharks test the nerve of his marrow after he s 
 captured back the forts! " 
 
 In the bay great ice-drift stopped our way, 
 and Pierre Radisson s impatience took fire. 
 
 " What a deuce, Captain Gazer! " he cries. 
 " How long do you intend to squat here an 
 chored to an ice-pan? " 
 
 A spark shot from the governor s sleepy eyes, 
 and Captain Gazer swallowed words twice before 
 he answered. 
 
 " Till the ice opens a way," says he. 
 
 " Opens a way! " repeats Radisson. " Man 
 alive, why don t you carve a way? " 
 
 " Carve a way yourself, Radisson," says the 
 governor contemptuously. 
 
 That was let enough for Pierre Radisson. 
 He had the sailors lowering jolly-boats in a jiffy; 
 and off seven of us went, round the ice-pans, 
 ploughing, cutting, portaging a way till we had 
 crossed the obstruction and were pulling for the 
 French fort with the spars of three Company 
 boats far in the offing. 
 
 I detained the English sailors at the river 
 front till M. Radisson had entered the fort and 
 339 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 won young Jean Groseillers to the change of 
 masters. Before the Fur Company s ships came, 
 the English flag was flying above the fort and 
 Fort Bourbon had become Fort Nelson. 
 
 " I bid you welcome to the French Habita 
 tion," bows Radisson, throwing wide the gates 
 to the English governor. 
 
 " Hm! " returns Phipps, " how many beaver- 
 skins are there in store? " 
 
 M. Radisson looked at the governor. " You 
 must ask my tradespeople that," he answers; 
 and he stood aside for them all to pass. 
 
 " Your English mind thinks only of the 
 gain," he said to me. 
 
 " And your French mind? " I asked. 
 
 " The game and not the winnings," said he. 
 
 No sooner were the winnings safe twenty 
 thousand beaver-skins stowed away in three 
 ships holds than Pierre Radisson s foes un 
 masked. The morning of our departure Gov 
 ernor Phipps marched all our Frenchmen aboard 
 like captives ^f war. 
 
 " Sir," expostulated M. de Radisson, " before 
 they gave up the fort I promised these men they 
 should remain in the bay." 
 
 Governor Phipps s sleepy eyes of a sudden 
 waked wide. 
 
 340 
 
HOME FROM THE BAY 
 
 " Aye/ he taunted, " with Frenchmen hold 
 ing our fort, a pretty trick you could play us 
 when the fancy took you! " 
 
 M. Radisson said not a word. He pulled free 
 a gantlet and strode forward, but the doughty 
 governor hastily scuttled down the ship s ladder 
 and put a boat s length of water between him 
 and Pierre Radisson s challenge. 
 
 The gig-boat pulled away. Our ship had 
 raised anchor. Radisson leaned over the deck- 
 rail and laughed. 
 
 " Egad, Phipps," he shouted, " a man may 
 not fight cowards, but he can cudgel them! An 
 I have to wait for you on the River Styx, I ll 
 punish you for making me break promise to 
 these good fellows! " 
 
 " Promise and when did promise o* yours 
 hold good, Pierre Radisson? " 
 
 The Frenchman turned with a bitter 
 
 laugh. 
 
 " A giant is big enough to be hit a giant is 
 easy to fight," says he, " but egad, these pigmies 
 crawl all over you and sting to death before they 
 are visible to the naked eye! " 
 
 And as the Happy Return wore ship for 
 open sea he stood moodily silent with eyes to 
 wards the shore where Governor Phipps s gig- 
 boat had moored before Fort Nelson. 
 341 
 
 \ 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 Then, speaking more to himself than to Jean 
 and me, his lips curled with a hard scorn. 
 
 " The Happy Return! " says he. " Pardieu! 
 tis a happy return to beat devils and then have 
 all your own little lies come roosting home like 
 imps that filch the victory! They don t trust 
 me because I won by trickery! Egad! is a 
 slaughter better than a game? An a man wins, 
 who a devil gives a rush for the winnings? Tis 
 the fight and the game pah! not the thing 
 won! Storm and cold, man and beast, powers 
 o darkness and devil, knaves and fools and his 
 own sins aye, that s the scratch ! The man and 
 the beast and the dark and the devil, he can 
 breast em all with a bold front! But knaves and 
 fools and his own sins, pah! death grubs! 
 hatching and nesting in a man s bosom till they 
 wake to sting him! Flesh-worms vampires 
 blood-suckers spun out o a man s own tissue 
 to sap his life!" 
 
 He rapped his pistol impatiently against the 
 deck-rail, stalked past us, then turned. 
 
 " Lads," says he, " if you don t want gall in 
 your wine and a grub in your victory, a God s 
 name keep your own counsel and play the game 
 fair and square and aboveboard." 
 
 And though his speech worked a pretty 
 enough havoc with fine-spun rhetoric to raise 
 342 
 
HOME FROM THE BAY 
 
 the wig off a pedant s head, Jean and I thought 
 we read some sense in his mixed metaphors. 
 
 On all that voyage home he never once 
 crossed words with the English officers, but 
 took his share of hardship with the French 
 prisoners. 
 
 " I mayn t go back to France. They think 
 they have me cornered and in their power," he 
 would say, gnawing at his finger-ends and gazing 
 into space. 
 
 Once, after long reverie, he sprang up from 
 a gun-waist where he had been sitting and ut 
 tered a scornful laugh. 
 
 "Cornered? Hah! We shall see! I snap 
 my fingers in their faces." 
 
 Thereafter his mood brightened perceptibly, 
 and he was the first to put foot ashore when we 
 came to anchor in British port. There were yet 
 four hours before the post-chaise left for Lon 
 don, and the English crew made the most of 
 the time by flocking to the ale-houses. M. Ra- 
 disson drew Jean and me apart. 
 
 " We ll beat our detractors yet," he said. 
 " If news of this capture be carried to the king 
 and the Duke of York * before the shareholders 
 
 * The Duke of York became Governor of the Hudson s 
 Bay Company after Prince Rupert s death, and the Com 
 pany s charter was a royal favour direct from the king. 
 
 343 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 spread false reports, we are safe. If His Royal 
 Highness favour us, the Company must fall in 
 line or lose their charter! " 
 
 And he bade us hire three of the fleetest sad 
 dle-horses to be found. While the English crew 
 were yet brawling in the taverns, we were to 
 horse and away. Our horse s feet rang on the 
 cobblestones with the echo of steel and the 
 sparks flashed from M. Radisson s eyes. A 
 wharfmaster rushed into mid-road to stop us, 
 but M. Radisson rode him down. A uniformed 
 constable called out to know what we were 
 about 
 
 " Our business! " shouts M. Radisson, and we 
 are off. 
 
 Country franklins got their wains out of our 
 way with mighty confusion, and coaches drew 
 aside for us to pass, and roadside brats scampered 
 off with a scream of freebooters; but M. Radis 
 son only laughed. 
 
 This is living," said he. " Give your nag 
 rein, Jean! Whip and spur! Ramsay! Whip 
 and spur! Nothing s won but at cost of a sting! 
 Throw off those jack-boots, Jean! They re a 
 handicap! Loose your holsters, lad! An any 
 highwaymen come at us to-day I ll send him a 
 short way to a place where he ll stay! Whip up! 
 Whip up!" 
 
 .344 
 
HOME FROM THE BAY 
 
 " What have you under your arm? " cries 
 Jean breathlessly. 
 
 " Rare furs for the king," calls Radisson. 
 
 Then the wind is in our hair, and thatched 
 cots race off in a blur on either side; plodding 
 workmen stand to stare and are gone; open 
 fields give place to forest, forest to village, vil 
 lage to bare heath; and still we race on. 
 
 Midnight found us pounding through the 
 dark of London streets for Cheapside, where 
 lived Mr. Young, a director of the Hudson s Bay 
 Company, who was favourable to Pierre Ra 
 disson. 
 
 " Halloo! Halloo! " shouts Radisson, beat 
 ing his pistol-butt on the door. 
 
 A candle and a nightcap emerge from the 
 upper window. 
 
 " Who s there? " demands a voice. 
 
 " It s Radisson, Mr. Young! " 
 
 " Radisson! In the name o the fiends 
 where from? " 
 
 " Oh, we ve just run across the way from 
 Hudson Bay!" says Radisson. 
 
 And the good man presently appears at the 
 door with a candle in one hand and a bludgeon 
 in the other. 
 
 " In the name o the fiends, when did you 
 345 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 arrive, man? " exclaims Mr. Young, hailing us 
 inside. 
 
 " Two minutes ago by the clock," laughs Ra- 
 disson, looking at the timepiece in the hall. 
 " Two minutes and a half ago," says he, follow 
 ing our host to the library. 
 
 " How many beaver-skins? " asks the Eng 
 lishman, setting down his candle. 
 
 The Frenchman smiles. 
 
 " Twenty thousand beaver - skins and as 
 many more of other sorts! " 
 
 The Englishman sits down to pencil out how 
 much that will total at ten shillings each; and 
 Pierre Radisson winks at us. 
 
 " The winnings again," says he. 
 
 " Twenty thousand pounds! " cries our host, 
 springing up. 
 
 " Aye," says Pierre Radisson, " twenty thou 
 sand pounds worth o fur without a pound of 
 shot or the trade of a nail-head for them. The 
 French had these furs in store ready for us! " 
 
 Mr. Young lifts his candle so that the light 
 falls on Radisson s bronzed face. He stands star 
 ing as if to make sure we are no wraiths. 
 
 " Twenty thousand pounds," says he, slowly 
 extending his right hand to Pierre Radisson. 
 " Radisson, man, welcome! " 
 
 The Frenchman bows with an ironical laugh. 
 
 346 
 
HOME FROM THE BAY 
 
 Twenty thousand pounds worth o wel 
 come, sir! " 
 
 But the director of the Fur Company ram 
 bles on unheeding. 
 
 " These be great news for the king and His 
 Royal Highness," says he. 
 
 " Aye, and as I have some rare furs for them 
 both, why not let us bear the news to them 
 ourselves? " asks Radisson. 
 
 That you shall," cries Mr. Young; and he 
 led us up-stairs, where we might refresh our 
 selves for the honour of presentation to His Maj 
 esty next day. 
 
 347 
 
CHAPTER XXVIIII 
 
 REBECCA AND I FALL OUT 
 
 M. RADISSON had carried his rare furs to the 
 king, and I was at Sir John Kirke s door to re 
 port the return of her husband to Madame Ra- 
 disson. The same grand personage with sleek 
 jowls and padded calves opened the door in the 
 gingerly fashion of his office. This time he ush 
 ered me quick enough into the dark reception- 
 room. 
 
 As I entered, two figures jumped from the 
 shadow of a tapestried alcove with gasps of 
 fright. 
 
 "Ramsay!" 
 
 It was Rebecca, the prim monkey, blushing 
 a deal more than her innocence warranted, with 
 a solemn-countenanced gentleman of the cloth 
 scowling from behind. 
 
 " When when did you come? " she asked, 
 all in a pretty flutter that set her dimples atrem- 
 bling; and she forgot to give me welcome. 
 
 " Now exactly on the minute! " 
 348 
 
REBECCA AND I FALL OUT 
 
 " Why why didn t you give us warn 
 ing? " stammered Rebecca, putting out one 
 shy hand. 
 
 At that I laughed outright; but it was as 
 much the fashion for gentlemen of the cloth to 
 affect a mighty solemnity in those days as it was 
 for the laity to let out an oath at every other 
 word, and the young divine only frowned sourly 
 at my levity. 
 
 " If if if you d only given us warning," in 
 terrupts Rebecca. 
 
 " Faith, Rebecca, an you talk of warning, 
 I ll begin to think you needed it 
 
 To give you welcome," explains Rebecca. 
 
 Then recovering herself, she begs, with a 
 pretty bobbing courtesy, to make me known to 
 the Reverend Adam Kittridge. 
 
 The Reverend Kittridge shakes hands with 
 an air as he would sound my doctrine on the 
 spot, and Rebecca hastens to add that I am " a 
 very old old friend." 
 
 " Not so very old, Rebecca, not so very long 
 ago since you and I read over the same lesson- 
 books. Do you mind the copy-heads on the wri 
 ting-books? 
 
 " Heaven to find. The Bible mind. In 
 Adam s fall we sinn ed all. Adam lived a lonely 
 life until he got himself a wife. " 
 349 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 But at that last, which was not to be found 
 among the head-lines of Boston s old copy 
 books, little Rebecca looked like to drop, and 
 with a frightened gesture begged us to be seated, 
 which we all accomplished with a perceptible 
 stiffening of the young gentleman s joints. 
 
 " Is M. Radisson back? " she asks. 
 
 " He reached England yesterday. He bade 
 me say that he will be here after he meets the 
 shareholders. He goes to present furs to the 
 king this morning." 
 
 "That will please Lady Kirke," says the 
 young gentleman. 
 
 " Some one else is back in England," ex 
 claims Rebecca, with the air of news. " Ben Gil- 
 lam is here." 
 
 " O-ho! Has he seen the Company? " 
 
 " He and Governor Brigdar have been 
 among M. Radisson s enemies. Young Captain 
 Gillam says there s a sailor-lad working on the 
 docks here can give evidence against M. Radis 
 son." 
 
 " Can you guess who that sailor-lad is, Re 
 becca? " 
 
 " It is not no it is not Jack? " she asks. 
 
 " Jack it is, Rebecca. That reminds me, Jack 
 sent a message to you! " 
 
 " A message to me?" 
 350 
 
REBECCA AND I FALL OUT 
 
 Yes you know he s married he married 
 last year when he was in the north." 
 
 " Married? " cries Rebecca, throwing up her 
 hands and like to faint from surprise. " Married 
 in the north? Why who who married him, 
 Ramsay?" 
 
 " A woman, of course! " 
 
 " But " Rebecca was blushing furiously, 
 " but I mean was there a chaplain? Had you 
 a preacher? And and was not Mistress Hor- 
 tense the only woman ? " 
 
 " No child there were thousands of wom 
 en native women 
 
 " Squaws! " exclaims the prim little Puritan 
 maid, with a red spot burning on each cheek. 
 " Do you mean that Jack Battle has married a 
 squaw? " and she rose indignantly. 
 
 " No I mean a woman! Now, Rebecca, 
 will you sit down till I tell you all about it? " 
 
 " Sir," interjects the young gentleman of the 
 cloth, " I protest there are things that a maid 
 ought not to hear! " 
 
 Then, sir, have a care that you say none of 
 them under cloak of religion ! Honi soit qui mal 
 y pense! The mind that thinketh no evil taketh 
 no evil." 
 
 Then I turned to Rebecca, standing with a 
 startled look in her eyes. 
 351 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 " Rebecca, Madame Radisson has told you 
 how Jack was left to be tortured by the In 
 dians? " 
 
 " Hortense has told me." 
 
 " And how he risked his life to save an Indi 
 an girl s life? " 
 
 " Yes," says Rebecca, with downcast lids. 
 
 " That Indian girl came and untied Jack s 
 bonds the night of the massacre. They escaped 
 together. When he went snow-blind, Mizza 
 hunted and snared for him and kept him. Her 
 people were all dead; she could not go back to 
 her tribe if Jack had left her in the north, the 
 hostiles would have killed her. Jack brought her 
 home with him " 
 
 11 He ought to have put her in a house of cor 
 rection," snapped Rebecca. 
 
 " Rebecca! Why would he put her in a house 
 of correction? What had she done that she 
 ought not to have done? She had saved his life. 
 He had saved hers, and he married her." 
 
 " There was no minister," said Rebecca, with 
 a tightening of her childish dimpled mouth and 
 a reddening of her cheeks and a little indignant 
 toss of the chin. 
 
 " Rebecca! How could they get a minister a 
 thousand leagues away from any church? They 
 
 will get one now " 
 
 352 
 
REBECCA AND I FALL OUT 
 
 Rebecca rose stiffly, her little lily face all 
 aflame. 
 
 " My father saith much evil cometh of this 
 it is sin he ought not to have married her; 
 and and it is very wrong of you to be tell 
 ing me this she stammered angrily, with 
 her little hands clasped tight across the white 
 stomacher. 
 
 " Very unfit," comes from that young gen 
 tleman of the cloth. 
 
 We were all three standing, and I make no 
 doubt my own face went as red as theirs, for the 
 taunt bit home. That inference of evil where no 
 evil was, made an angrier man than was my 
 wont. The two moved towards the door. I put 
 myself across their way. 
 
 " Rebecca, you do yourself wrong! You are 
 measuring other people s deeds with too short a 
 yardstick, little woman, and the wrong is in 
 your own mind, not theirs." 
 
 " I I don t know what you mean! " cried 
 Rebecca obstinately, with a break in her voice 
 that ought to have warned; but her next words 
 provoked afresh. " It was wicked! it was sin 
 ful! " with an angry stamp " it was shameful 
 of Jack Battle to marry an Indian girl- 
 There I cut in. 
 
 "Was it?" I asked. "Young woman, let 
 353 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 me tell you a bald truth! When a white man 
 marries an Indian, the union is as honourable as 
 your own would be. It is when the white man 
 does not marry the Indian that there is shame; 
 and the shame is to the white man, not the In 
 dian ! " 
 
 Sure, one might let an innocent bundle of 
 swans down and baby cheeks have its foibles 
 without laying rough hands upon them! 
 
 The next, little Rebecca cries out that I ve 
 insulted her, is in floods of tears, and marches 
 off on the young gentleman s arm. 
 
 Comes a clatter of slippered heels on the hall 
 floor and in bustles my Lady Kirke, bejewelled 
 and befrilled and beflounced till I had thought 
 no mortal might bend in such massive casings 
 of starch. 
 
 "La," she pants, "good lack! Wellaway! 
 My fine savage! Welladay! What a pretty 
 mischief have you been working? Proposals 
 are amaking at the foot of the stairs. O lud! 
 The preacher was akissing that little Puritan 
 maid as I came by! Good lack, what will Sir 
 John say? " 
 
 And my lady laughs and laughs till I look to 
 see the tears stain the rouge of her cheeks. 
 
 "O lud," she laughs, "I m like to die! 
 He tried to kiss the baggage! And the little 
 354 
 
REBECCA AND I FALL OUT 
 
 saint jumps back so quick that he hit her ear by 
 mistake! La," she laughs, " I m like to die! " 
 
 I d a mind to tell her ladyship that a loosen 
 ing of her stays might prolong life, but I didn t. 
 Instead, I delivered the message from Pierre Ra- 
 disson and took myself off a mighty mad man; 
 for youth can be angry, indeed. And the cause 
 of the anger was the same as fretteth the Old 
 World and New to-day. Rebecca was measur 
 ing Jack by old standards. I was measuring 
 Rebecca by new standards. And the measuring 
 of the old by the new and the new by the old 
 teareth love to tatters. 
 
 Pierre Radisson I met at the entrance to the 
 Fur Company s offices in Broad Street. His 
 steps were of one on steel springs and his eyes 
 afire with victory. 
 
 " We ve beaten them," he muttered to me. 
 " His Majesty favours us! His Majesty accepted 
 the furs and would have us at Whitehall to-mor 
 row night to give account of our doings. An 
 they try to trick me out of reward I ll have them 
 to the foot o the throne! " 
 
 But of Pierre Radisson s intrigue against his 
 detractors I was not thinking at all. 
 
 " Were the courtiers about? " I asked. 
 
 " Egad! yes; Palmer and Buckingham and 
 Ashley leering at Her Grace of Portsmouth, with 
 355 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 Cleveland looking daggers at the new favourite, 
 and the French ambassador shaking his sides 
 with laughter to see the women at battle. His 
 Royal Highness, the Duke of York, got us ac 
 cess to present the furs. Egad, Ramsay, I am 
 a rough man, but it seemed prodigious strange to 
 see a king giving audience in the apartments of 
 the French woman, and great men leering for a 
 smile from that huzzy I The king lolls on a Per 
 sian couch with a litter of spaniel puppies on one 
 side and the French woman on the other. And 
 what do you think that black-eyed jade asks 
 when I present the furs and tell of our captured 
 Frenchmen? To have her own countrymen sold 
 to the Barbadoes so that she may have the 
 money for her gaming-table! Egad, I spiked 
 that pretty plan by saying the Frenchmen were 
 sending her a present of furs, too! To-morrow 
 night we go to Whitehall to entertain His Maj 
 esty with our doings! We need not fear enemies 
 in the Company now! " 
 
 " I m not so sure of that," said I. " The Gil- 
 lams have been working against you here, and so 
 has Brigdar." 
 
 "Hah let them work!" 
 
 " Did you see her? " I asked. 
 
 " Her? " questions Radisson absently. " Par- 
 dieu, there are so many hers about the court now 
 
REBECCA AND I FALL OUT 
 
 with no she-saint among them! Which do you 
 mean? " 
 
 The naming of Hortense after such speech 
 was impossible. Without more mention of the 
 court, we entered the Company s office, where 
 sat the councillors in session around a long 
 table. No one rose to welcome him who had 
 brought such wealth on the Happy Return; 
 and the reason was not far to seek. The post- 
 chaise had arrived with Pierre Radisson s de 
 tractors, and allied with them were the Gillams 
 and Governor Brigdar. 
 
 Pierre Radisson advanced undaunted and sat 
 down. Black looks greeted his coming, and the 
 deputy-governor, who was taking the Duke of 
 York s place, rose to suggest that " Mr. Brigdar, 
 wrongfully dispossessed of the fort on the bay 
 by one Frenchman known as Radisson, be re 
 stored as governor of those parts." 
 
 A grim smile went from face to face at Pierre 
 Radisson s expense. 
 
 " Better withdraw, man, better withdraw," 
 whispers Sir John Kirke, his father-in-law. 
 
 But Radisson only laughs. 
 
 Then one rises to ask by what authority the 
 Frenchman, Radisson, had gone to report mat 
 ters to the king instead of leaving that to the 
 shareholders. 
 
 357 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 M. de Radisson utters another lend 
 laugh. 
 
 Comes a knocking, and there appears at the 
 door Colonel Blood, father of the young lieuten 
 ant, with a message from the king. 
 
 " Gentlemen," announces the freebooter, 
 " His Majesty hath bespoke dinner for the Fur 
 Company at the Lion. His Royal Highness, the 
 Duke of York, hath ordered Madeira for the 
 councillors refreshment, and now awaits your 
 coming! " 
 
 For the third time M. Radisson laughs aloud 
 with a triumph of insolence. 
 
 " Come, gentlemen," says he, " I ve coun 
 tered. Let us be going. His Royal Highness 
 awaits us across the way." 
 
 Blood stood twirling his mustaches and tap 
 ping his sword-handle impatiently. He was as 
 swarth and straight and dauntless as Pierre Ra 
 disson, with a sinister daring in his eyes that 
 might have put the seal to any act. 
 
 " Egad s life! " he exclaimed, " do fur-traders 
 keep royalty awaiting? " 
 
 And our irate gentleman must needs haste 
 across to the Lion, where awaited the Company 
 Governor, the Duke of York, with all the merry 
 young blades of the court. King Charles s reign 
 was a time of license, you have been told. What 
 358 
 
REBECCA AND I FALL OUT 
 
 that meant you would have known if you had 
 seen the Fur Company at dinner. Blood, Senior, 
 I mind, had a drinking-match against Sir George 
 Jeffreys, the judge; and I risk not my word on 
 how much those two rascals put away. The 
 judge it was who went under mahogany first, 
 though Colonel Blood scarce had wit enough left 
 to count the winnings of his wager. Young Lieu 
 tenant Blood stood up on his chair and bawled 
 out some monstrous bad-writ verse to " a fair- 
 dark lady "whatever that meant " who was 
 as cold as ice and combustible as gunpowder." 
 Healths were drunk to His Majesty King 
 Charles, to His Royal Highness the Duke of 
 York, to our councillors of the Company, to our 
 governors of the fur-posts, and to the captains. 
 Then the Duke of York himself lifted the cup to 
 Pierre Radisson s honour; whereat the young 
 courtiers raised such a cheering, the grim silence 
 of Pierre Radisson s detractors passed unnoticed. 
 After the Duke of York had withdrawn, our riot 
 ous sparks threw off all restraint. On bended 
 knee they drank to that fair evil woman whom 
 King Louis had sent to ensnare King Charles. 
 Odds were offered on how long her power with 
 the king would last. Then followed toasts to a 
 list of second-rate names, dancing girls and 
 French milliners, who kept place of assignation 
 359 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 for the dissolute crew, and maids of honour, who 
 were no maids of honour, but adventuresses in 
 the pay of great men to advance their interest 
 with the king, and riffraff women whose names 
 history hath done well to forget. To these toasts 
 Colonel Blood and Pierre Radisson and I sat 
 with inverted glasses. 
 
 While the inn was ringing to the shouts 
 of the revellers, the freebooter leaned across to 
 Pierre Radisson. 
 
 " Gad s name if they like you," he mumbled 
 drunkenly. 
 
 " Who? "asked Radisson. 
 
 " Fur Company," explained Blood. " They 
 hate you! So they do me! But if the king fa 
 vours you, they ve got to have you," and he 
 laughed to himself. 
 
 That s the way with me," he whispered in 
 drunken confidence to M. Radisson. " What a 
 deuce? " he asked, turning drowsily to the table. 
 " What s my boy doing? " 
 
 Young Lieutenant Blood was to his feet 
 holding a reaming glass high as his head. 
 
 " Gentlemen, I give you the sweet savage! " 
 he cried, " the Diana of the snows a thistle 
 like a rose ice that burns a pauper that 
 spurns " 
 
 " Curse me if he doesn t mean that saucy 
 360 
 
REBECCA AND I FALL OUT 
 
 wench late come from your north fort," inter 
 rupted the father. 
 
 My hands were itching to throw a glass in the 
 face of father or son, but Pierre Radisson re 
 strained me. 
 
 " More to be done sometimes by doing noth 
 ing," he whispered. 
 
 The young fellows were on their knees drain 
 ing bumpers; but Colonel Blood was rambling 
 again. 
 
 " He gives em that saucy brat, does he? 
 Gad s me, I d give her to perdition for twopenny- 
 worth o rat poison! Look you> Radisson, tis 
 what I did once; but she s come back! Curse 
 me, I could a done it neater and cheaper myself 
 twopenny-worth o poison would do it, Picot 
 said; but gad s me, I paid him a hundred guin 
 eas, and here she s come back again! " 
 
 " Blood . . . Colonel Blood," M. Picot had 
 repeated at his death. 
 
 I had sprung up. Again M. Radisson held 
 me back. 
 
 " How long ago was that, Colonel Blood? " 
 he asked softly. 
 
 " Come twenty year this day s ennight," mut 
 ters the freebooter. " Twas before I entered 
 court service. Her father had four o my fel 
 lows gibbeted at Charing Cross. Gad s me, I 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 swore he d sweat for it! She was Osmond s only 
 child squalling brat coming with nurse over 
 Hounslow Heath. Sdeath I see it yet! Pos 
 tillions yelled like stuck pigs, nurses kicked over 
 in coach dead away. When they waked up, curse 
 me, but the French poisoner had the brat! 
 Curse me, I d done better to finish her myself. 
 Picot ran away and wrote letters letters let 
 ters, till I had to threaten to slit his throat, pon 
 my soul, I had! And now she must marry the 
 boy- 
 
 " Why? " put in Radisson, with cold indif 
 ference and half-listening air. 
 
 " Gad s life, can t you see? " asked the knave. 
 " Osmond s dead, the boy s lands are hers the 
 French doctor may a told somebody," and 
 Colonel Blood of His Majesty s service slid under 
 the table with the judge. 
 
 M. Radisson rose and led the way out. 
 
 " You d like to cudgel him," he said. 
 " Come with me to Whitehall instead! " 
 
 362 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 THE KING S PLEASURE 
 
 MY Lady Kirke was all agog. 
 
 Pierre Radisson was her " dear sweet sav 
 age," and " naughty spark," and " bold, bad 
 beau," and " devilish fellow," and "lovely 
 wretch!" 
 
 " La, Pierre," she cries, with a tap of her fan. 
 " anybody can go to the king s levee\ But, dear 
 heart! " she trills, with a sidelong ogle. Ta! 
 ta! naughty devil! to think of our sweet savage 
 going to Whitehall of an evening! Lud, Mary, 
 I ll wager you, Her Grace of Portsmouth hath 
 laid eyes on him " 
 
 " The Lord forbid! " ejaculates Pierre Radis 
 son. 
 
 " Hoighty-toighty! Now! there you go, 
 my saucy spark! Good lack! An the king s 
 women laid eyes on any other man, twould turn 
 his head and be his fortune! Naughty fellow! " 
 she warns, with a flirt of her fan. " We shall 
 watch you! Ta-ta, don t tell me no! Oh, we 
 *4 363 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 know this gdite de cceur\ You ll presently be 
 intime o Portsmouth and Cleveland and all o 
 them!" 
 
 " Madame/ groans Pierre Radisson, " swear, 
 if you will! But as you love me, don t abuse the 
 French tongue! " 
 
 At which she gave him a slap with her 
 fan. 
 
 " An I were not so young" she simpers, " I d 
 cuff vaur ears, you saucy Pierre ! " 
 
 : So young! " mutters Pierre Radisson, with 
 grim looks at her powdered locks. " Egad s life, 
 so is the bud on a century plant young," and he 
 turns to his wife. 
 
 But my Lady Kirke was blush-proof. 
 
 " Don t forget to pay special compliments to 
 the favourites," she calls, as we set out for White 
 hall; and she must run to the door in a flutter 
 and ask if Pierre Radisson has any love-verse 
 ready writ, in case of an amour with one of the 
 court ladies. 
 
 " No," says Radisson, " but here are unpaid 
 tailor bills! Tis as good as your billets-douxl 
 I ll kiss em just as hard! " 
 
 " So ! " cries Lady Kirke, bobbing a courtesy 
 and blowing a kiss from her finger-tips as we 
 rolled away in Sir John s coach. 
 
 "The old flirt-o -tail," blurted Radisson, 
 364 
 
THE KING S PLEASURE 
 
 "you could pack her brains in a hazel-nut; but 
 twould turn the stomach of a grub! " 
 
 Twas not the Whitehall you know to-day, 
 which is but a remnant of the grand old pile 
 that stretched all the way from the river front to 
 the inner park. Before the fires, Whitehall was 
 a city of palaces reaching far into St. James, 
 with a fleet of royal barges at float below the 
 river stairs. From Scotland Yard to Bridge 
 Street the royal ensign blew to the wind 
 above tower and parapet and battlement. I 
 mind under the archway that spanned little 
 Whitehall Street M. Radisson dismissed our 
 coachman. 
 
 " How shall we bring up the matter of Hor- 
 tense? " I asked. 
 
 " Trust me," said Radisson. " The gods of 
 chance!" 
 
 " Will you petition the king direct? " 
 
 " Egad no! -Never petition a selfish man 
 direct, or you ll get a No! Bring him round to 
 the generous, so that he may take all credit for 
 it himself! Do you hold back among the on 
 lookers till I ve told our story o the north! Tis 
 not a state occasion! Egad, there ll be court 
 wenches a plenty ready to take up with a likely 
 looking man! Have a word with Hortense if 
 365 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 you can! Let me but get the king s ear " And 
 Radisson laughed with a confidence, methought, 
 nothing on earth could shake. 
 
 Then we were passed from the sentinel doing 
 duty at the gate to the king s guards, and from 
 the guards to orderlies, and from orderlies to 
 fellows in royal colours, who led us from an ante 
 room to that glorious gallery of art where it 
 pleased the king to take his pleasure that 
 night. 
 
 It was not a state occasion, as Radisson said; 
 but for a moment I think the glitter in which 
 those jaded voluptuaries burned out their moth- 
 lives blinded even the clear vision of Pierre Ra 
 disson. The great gallery was thronged with 
 graceful courtiers and stately dowagers and gaily 
 attired page-boys and fair ladies with a beauty 
 of youth on their features and the satiety of age 
 in their look. My Lord Preston, I mind, was 
 costumed in purple velvet with trimming of 
 pearls such as a girl might wear. Young Blood 
 moved from group to group to show his white 
 velvets sparkling with diamonds. One of the 
 Sidneys was there playing at hazard with my 
 Lady Castlemaine for a monstrous pile of gold 
 on the table, which some onlookers whispered 
 made up three thousand guineas. As I watched 
 my lady lost; but in spite of that, she coiled her 
 366 
 
THE KING S PLEASURE 
 
 bare arm around the gold as if to hold the win 
 nings back. 
 
 " And indeed," I heard her say, with a pout, 
 " I ve a mind to prove your love! I ve a mind 
 not to pay! " 
 
 At which young Sidney kisses her finger-tips 
 and bids her pay the debt in favours; for the way 
 to the king was through the influence of Castle- 
 maine or Portsmouth or other of the dissolute 
 crew. 
 
 Round other tables sat men and women, old 
 and young, playing away estate and fortune and 
 honour at tick-tack or ombre or basset. One 
 noble lord was so old that he could not see to 
 game, and must needs have his valet by to tell 
 him how the dice came up. On the walls hung 
 the works of Vandyke and Correggio and Ra 
 phael and Rubens; but the pure faces of art s 
 creation looked down on statesmen bending 
 low to the beck of adventuresses, old men 
 pawning a noble name for the leer of a Ports 
 mouth, and women vying for the glance of a 
 jaded king. 
 
 At the far end of the apartment was a page 
 boy dressed as Cupid, singing love-songs. In 
 the group of listeners lolled the languid king. 
 Portsmouth sat near, fanning the passion of a 
 poor young fool, who hung about her like a 
 367 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 moth; but Charles was not a lover to be spurred. 
 As Portsmouth played her ruse the more openly 
 a contemptuous smile flitted over the proud, 
 dark face of the king, and he* only fondled his 
 lap-dog with indifferent heed for all those flatter 
 ers and foot-lickers and curry-favours hovering 
 round royalty. 
 
 Barillon, the French ambassador, pricked up 
 his ears, I can tell you, when Chaffinch, the 
 king s man, came back with word that His Maj 
 esty was ready to hear M. Radisson. 
 
 " Now, lad, move about and keep your eyes 
 open and your mouth shut! " whispers M. Radis 
 son as he left me. 
 
 Barillon would have followed to the king s 
 group, but His Majesty looked up with a 
 quiet insolence that sent the ambassador to 
 another circle. Then a page-boy touched my 
 arm. 
 
 " Master Stanhope? " he questioned. 
 
 " Yes," said I. 
 
 " Come this way," and he led to a tapes 
 tried corner, where sat the queen and her 
 ladies. 
 
 Mistress Hortense stood behind the royal 
 chair. 
 
 Queen Catherine .extended her hand for my 
 salute. 
 
THE KING S PLEASURE 
 
 " Her Majesty is pleased to ask what has be 
 come of the sailor-lad and his bride," said Hor- 
 tense. 
 
 " Hath the little Puritan helped to get them 
 married right? " asked the queen, with the soft 
 trill of a foreign tongue. 
 
 " Your Majesty," said I, " the little Puritan 
 holds back." 
 
 " It is as you thought," said Queen 
 Catherine, looking over her shoulder to 
 Hortense. 
 
 " Would another bridesmaid do? " asked the 
 queen. 
 
 Laughing looks passed among the ladies. 
 
 " If the bridesmaid were Mistress Hillary, 
 Your Majesty," I began. 
 
 " Hortense hath been to see them." 
 
 I might have guessed. It was like Hortense 
 to seek the lonely pair. 
 
 " Here is the king. We must ask his ad 
 vice," said the queen. 
 
 At the king s entrance all fell back and I 
 managed to whisper to Hortense what we had 
 learned the night before. 
 
 " Here are news," smiled His Majesty. 
 " Your maid of the north is Osmond s daughter! 
 The lands young Lieutenant Blood wants are 
 hers!" 
 
 369 
 
HERALDS CF EMPIRE 
 
 At that were more looks among the ladies. 
 
 "And faith, the lieutenant asks for her as 
 well as the lands," said the king. 
 
 Hortense had turned very white and moved 
 a little forward. 
 
 " We may not disturb our loyal subject s pos 
 session. What does Osmond s daughter say? " 
 questioned the king. 
 
 Then Hortense took her fate in her hands. 
 Your Majesty," she said, "if Osmond s 
 daughter did not want the lands, it would not be 
 necessary to disturb the lieutenant." 
 
 " And who would find a husband for a por 
 tionless bride? " asked King Charles. 
 
 " May it please Your Majesty," began Hor 
 tense; but the words trembled unspoken on her 
 lips. 
 
 There was a flutter among the ladies. The 
 queen turned and rose. A half-startled look of 
 comprehension came to her face. And out 
 stepped Mistress Hortense from the group 
 behind. 
 
 Your Majesties," she stammered, "I do 
 not want the lands " 
 
 " Nor the lieutenant," laughed the king. 
 
 Your Majesties," she said. She could say 
 no more. 
 
 But with the swift intuition of the lonely 
 370 
 
THE KING S PLEASURE 
 
 woman s loveless heart, Queen Catherine read in 
 my face what a poor trader might not speak. 
 She reached her hand to me, and when I would 
 have saluted it like any dutiful subject, she took 
 my hand in hers and placed Hortense s hand in 
 mine. 
 
 Then there was a great laughing and hand 
 shaking and protesting, with the courtiers 
 thronging round. 
 
 " Ha, Radisson," Barillon was saying, " you 
 not only steal our forts you must rifle the court 
 and run off with the queen s maid! " 
 
 " And there will be two marriages at the sail 
 or s wedding," said the queen. 
 
 It was Hortense s caprice that both mar 
 riages be deferred till we reached Boston Town, 
 where she must needs seek out the old Puritan 
 divine whom I had helped to escape so many 
 years ago. 
 
 Before I lay down my pen, I would that I 
 could leave with you a picture of M. Radisson, 
 the indomitable, the victorious, the dauntless, 
 living in opulence and peace! 
 
 But my last memory of him, as our ship 
 sheered away for Boston Town, is of a grave 
 man standing on the quay denouncing princes 
 promises and gazing into space. 
 371 
 
HERALDS OF EMPIRE 
 
 M. Radisson lived to serve the Fur Company 
 for many a year as history tells; but his service 
 was as the flight of a great eagle, harried by a 
 multitude of meaner birds. 
 
 THE END 
 
 372 
 


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