"They will try to outflank us next, and get round to the rear," he said between his teeth to Stark. "Stark, you must pick some of our best men, and stop that movement if it occurs. If they get us between two fires, we are all dead men!"

"Fritz, you will be my lieutenant," said Stark, as he looked about him and chose his company. Fritz was at his side in a moment. "We are in as evil a chance as ever men were yet," he added, "but I think we shall live to tell the tale by the warm fireside at home.

I have been in tight fixes before this, and have won through somehow. I trust our gallant Rogers will not fall. That would carry confusion to our ranks."

Shoulder to shoulder stood Fritz and Stark, warily watching the movements of the foe. They saw them creeping round the base of the hill--saw it by the movement of the brushwood rather than by anything else; for their foes were used to bush craft, too.

"If anything should go amiss with me today, friend John," said Fritz, as he loaded his piece, looking sternly down into the hollow beneath, "give my love to Susanna, and tell her that her name will be on my lips and my heart in the hour of death."

"Talk not of death, man, but of victory!" cried Stark, whose indomitable cheerfulness never forsook him. "Yet I will remember and give the message to my pretty cousin--for I know that women live on words like these--if the blow has to fall. But never think of that!"

"I do not," answered Fritz; "I hope to come forth safe and sound.

But were it otherwise--"

"Fire!" cried Stark, breaking suddenly into the commander; and a sharp, deadly volley blazed forth from the guns of his contingent.

It was plain that the enemy had not expected this flank movement to be observed. Cries of dismay and pain rang through the forest. They broke cover and ran back towards the main body, followed by another well-directed volley from the brave Stark and his men.

Round the spot where Rogers and the main body of the Rangers stood the fight waxed fierce and hot. But Stark held to his post on the spur of the hill, where he saw how the foe was trying to get round to their rear; and again and again his well-aimed volleys sent them flying back decimated to their companions.

But how was it going with the others? The firing was incessant, and shouts and cries told of death and disaster on both sides. Stark bid Fritz make a dash for the main body and bring back word. The brief winter's day was beginning to draw to a close. There was something terrible in the brightness of the fire that was streaming from the thickets as the daylight failed. It seemed as though the very forest was in flames; and the crack of musketry was almost unceasing.

"They are calling upon us to surrender," said Fritz, hastening back with his tale. "The French are calling upon Rogers by name, begging him to trust to their honour and clemency, and promising the best of treatment if he and his brave men will surrender. They are calling out that it is a pity so many bold men should perish like brute beasts. But Rogers stands like a rock, and replies by volley after volley. He has been hit through the wrist, and his head is bound about by a cloth; but he looks like a lion at bay, and will not yield one inch."

"Let us back to his side, and make one great charge against the foe!" shouted Stark, who saw that no further flank movement was to be antic.i.p.ated now. His men answered by a cheer. They were ready for any display of gallantry and courage, and swore by Stark, who was beloved of all for his happy temper and cheerful, dauntless bravery.

Up the shoulder of the hill and across the ridge they dashed. They shouted their cry of "Rogers' Rangers! Rogers' Rangers!" It was taken up by those upon the top, who gathered together and made a blind rush down towards their foe. The French, taken by surprise at this impetuosity, and afraid of the darkness of the forest, made off in haste for Ticonderoga, having worked sad havoc amongst the bold Rangers, who were left alone with their wounded and dead, the shades of night gathering fast round them, and the camp of the foe within a few miles.

It was a situation of grave peril; but Rogers was not to be daunted. He buried his dead; he gathered together the wounded, and afraid to allow even a night for rest, he marched his party all through the night, and by morning they were upon the sh.o.r.es of Lake George.

"I will fetch a sledge for the wounded," quoth Stark, full of energy and enterprise as usual. "It will puzzle the enemy to find the route we have taken. Lie you here close and keep watch and ward, and I will fetch succour from the fort before the French have time to seek us out."

This was good counsel, and Rogers followed it. Stark, after a quick journey across the ice, brought sledges and soldiers from the fort, and in a few more days the Rangers were brought back in triumph to their huts without Fort William Henry, where they were content to lie idle for a short while, recovering from their wounds and fatigues. Hardly a man had escaped uninjured; and some were very dangerously wounded, and died from the effects of the injuries received. Fritz himself had a slight attack of fever resulting from the wound which he had scarcely noticed in the heat of battle.

Stark was almost the only member of the company who had come forth quite unscathed, and he was the life of the party during the next spell of inaction, telling stories, setting the men to useful tasks, making drawings of the French forts for the guidance of the English, and amusing the whole place by his sudden escapades in different directions.

The Rangers were further cheered by a letter of thanks from General Abercromby, lately sent out from England, recognizing their gallant service, and promising that it should be made known to the King.

But the adventures of the winter were not over, although the days were lengthening out, and the bl.u.s.tering rains and winds of March had come. The snow was greatly lessened; but a spell of frost still held the lake bound, and the rigours of the season were little abated.

It was St. Patrick's Day; and as some of the soldiers in Fort William Henry were Irish, they had celebrated the anniversary by a revel which had left a large proportion more or less drunk and incapable. Their English comrades had followed their lead with alacrity, and the Fort was resounding with laughter and song.

But the Rangers in the huts outside were on the alert and as Stark remarked with a smile, they must keep watch and ward that night, for n.o.body else seemed to have any disposition to do so.

Major Eyre, in pity for the forlorn condition of his men, had not restrained them from amusing themselves in their own fashion upon this anniversary. It was well, however, that there were some sleepless watchers on the alert that night; for as the grey dawn began to break, a sound was heard over the ice as though of an approaching mult.i.tude. The Rangers gave the alarm, and manned the guns. There was nothing to be seen through the murky mists of dawn; but the guns belched forth fire and round shot towards the lake, and the sounds suddenly ceased.

An hour later Charles came rushing in; there was blood upon his face, and his eyes were wild, but in his excitement he seemed to know nothing of any hurt.

"They are coming! they are coming! I have seen them! There are hundreds upon hundreds of them, well armed, well equipped with everything that men can want. They are bound for the fort. They are going to take it, They have sworn it! And he is in their ranks. I saw him with these eyes. He is there. He is one of them. We shall meet again, and this time he shall not escape me!"

In a moment all was excitement and bustle. The men, sobered by the near presence of danger, were at their posts in a moment. All knew that the fort was not strong, and that a resolute a.s.sault by a large force would he difficult to repel; but at least they had not been taken by surprise, and that was something.

A yell from without told that something was going on there. The Rangers were driving off a party of men who had crept up under cover of the mist wreaths, hoping to fire the huts outside, and so burn the fort. They were sent helter skelter over the ice to rejoin their comrades; and after a pause of some hours an officer was seen advancing from the French lines bearing a flag.

He was blindfolded, that he might not see the weak parts of the fort, and was brought to Major Byre and the other officers. His message was to advise them to surrender the fort and obtain for themselves favourable terms, threatening a ma.s.sacre if this was refused.

"I shall defend myself to the last!" said Major Byre calmly.

"Englishmen do not give up their forts at the bidding of the foe.

We can at least die like men, if we cannot defend ourselves, and that has yet to be proved."

The news of this demand and the reply flew like wildfire through the ranks, and inspired the men with courage and ardour. The Rangers were brought within the fort, and all was made ready for the a.s.sault.

A storm of shot hailed upon the fort. Through the gathering darkness of the night they could only distinguish the foe by the red glare from their guns. The English fort was dark and silent. It reserved its fire till the enemy came closer. The crisis was coming nearer and nearer. There was a tense feeling in the air, as though an electric cloud hovered over all.

Charles went about with a strange look upon his face.

"He is there--he is coming. We shall meet!" he kept repeating; and all through that night there was no sleep for him--he wandered about like a restless spirit. No service was demanded of him. He was counted as one whose mind wanders. Yet in the hour of battle none could fight with more obstinate bravery than Charles Angell.

"Fire! fire! fire!"

It was Charles's voice that raised the cry in the dead of the night. No attack had been made upon the fort; but under cover of darkness the enemy had crept nearer and nearer to the outlying buildings, and tongues of flame were shooting up.

Instantly the guns were turned in that direction, and a fusillade awoke the silence of the sleeping lake, whilst cries of agony told how the bullets and shots had gone home.

"Come, Rangers," shouted Rogers, "follow me out and fall upon them!

Drive them back! Save the fort from fire!"

Rogers never called upon his men in vain. No service was too full of peril for them. Ignorant as they were of the number or power of their a.s.sailants, they dashed in a compact body out of the side gate towards the place where the glare of the fire illumined the darkness of the night.

Dark forms were hurrying hither and thither; but the moment the Rangers appeared with their battle cry, there was an instant rout and flight.

"After them!" shouted Rogers; and the men dashed over the rough ground, pursuers and pursued, shouting, yelling, firing--and they saw that some bolder spirits amongst the Frenchmen had even set fire to the sloop on the stocks which Rogers had been teaching the soldiers how to construct.

But in the forefront of the pursuit might be seen one wild, strange figure with flying hair and fiery eyes. He turned neither to the right hand nor to the left, but ran on and on in a straight line, keeping one flying figure ever in view.

The flying figure seemed to know that some deadly pursuit was meant; for he, too, never turned nor swerved, but dashed on and on.

He gained the frozen lake; but the treacherous, slippery ice seemed to yield beneath his feet. He had struck the lake at the point where it was broken up to obtain water for the fort.

A yell of horror escaped him. He flung up his arms and disappeared.

But his pursuer dashed on and on, a wild laugh escaping him as he saw what had happened. The next minute he was bending down over the yawning hole, and had put his long, strong arm through it into the icy water beneath.

He touched nothing. The hapless man had sunk to rise no more. Once sucked beneath the deep waters of the frozen lake, exhausted as he was, there was no hope for him. Charles cut and hacked at the ice blocks, regardless of his own personal safety; and after long labour he succeeded in moving some of them, and in dragging out the lifeless corpse, already frozen stiff, of the man he had sworn to slay.

The French were flying over the frozen ice, the Rangers in pursuit.

They came upon the strange spectacle, and stopped short in amaze. A dead man lay upon the ice of the lake where it was broken and dangerous, his dead face turned up to the moonlight, his hands clinched and stiff and frozen. Beside the corpse sat Charles, his gla.s.sy eyes fixed upon the dead face, himself almost as stiff and stark.

They came up and spoke to him; but he only pointed to the corpse.

"That is he--that is he!" he cried hoa.r.s.ely. "I saw him, and he saw me. We fought, and he fled. I have been running after him over ice and snow for years and years. He is dead now--dead, dead, dead! The Lord has delivered him into my hand. My work is done!"