The Cryptogram - Part 28
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Part 28

"Until a treacherous Indian killed him, sir," I said. "And the murderer was never discovered. It is too late to go any further, men," I added, wishing to turn the subject. "We will put up here for the night, and enjoy resting between walls and beside a fireplace."

We crossed the clearing, and entered the stockade by the open gateway, which was half filled in with drifted snow. We went on, past crumbling outbuildings, to what had been the factor's residence. The house was in a fairly good state of preservation, and a push sent the door back on its hinges.

We were on the threshold of the main room, where I so well recalled my father sitting musingly by the great fireplace evening after evening smoking his pipe. Now the apartment was dreary and bare. Snow had filtered in at the windows, and the floor was rotting away. There were ashes in the fireplace, and near by lay a heap of dry wood--signs that some voyageur or trapper had spent a night here while journeying through the wilderness.

"This is like civilization again," said Christopher Burley, with a sigh.

"We are sure of a comfortable night, at all events," replied Captain Rudstone.

"The first thing will be supper," said I. "Baptiste, you and Carteret unpack the sledge. And do you build us a roaring fire, Pemecan."

I went into another room for a moment--it had been my own in times past--and when I returned the Indian had already started a cheerful blaze. As I walked toward the fireplace, intending to warm my hands, a loose slab of stone that was set in at the right of it was dislodged by the shaking of the floor. It toppled over with a crash, breaking into several fragments, and behind it, on the weatherworn stratum of plaster, I saw a number of hieroglyphics. On pulling down some more plaster I found more lines of them, and they were doubtless an inscription of some sort. The odd-looking characters were carved deeply into the wall, and I judged that they had been made years before.

"How strange!" cried Flora, coming to my side.

The rest also drew near, scrutinizing the mysterious discovery with eager eyes and exclamations of surprise.

"It looks like a cryptogram," said Captain Rudstone, and his voice seemed to tremble and grow hoa.r.s.e as he spoke. "What do you make of it, Carew?"

"Nothing," said I. "You know as much as myself--I never saw it before."

"Was it put there in your father's time?"

"Perhaps," I answered, "but I am inclined to think that it belongs to a much earlier date."

The captain shook his head slowly. He stared at the hieroglyphics with a thoughtful face, with his brow knitted into tiny wrinkles over his half-closed eyes.

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

A CRY IN THE NIGHT.

We all, more or less, shared Captain Rudstone's curiosity. For a minute we gazed in silence at the strange marks--the company men stolidly, the two voyageurs with disdainful shrugs of the shoulders. Pemecan touched the spot with something like awe, and Christopher Burley followed his example.

"This is a very odd thing," he muttered. "I wish I could take the plaster just as it is back to London with me."

"I've seen nothing like it," declared Luke Hutter, "and I've lived in the wilderness, man and boy, for nigh onto fifty years."

Naturally Fort Beaver having been my home, the rest looked to me to throw some light on the mystery of the cryptogram--if such it was; but I was no wiser than they, and they questioned me in vain. I remembered the fireplace as being always in sound condition, and as my father had never spoken of the matter, I judged that the marks had been cut years before his time--perhaps during the youth of my maternal grandfather.

"It may be so, Mr. Carew," said Christopher Burley; "but to my mind the work is of more recent date. I should say the stone had been purposely removed, and then put back after the hieroglyphics were carved on the plaster. I would take a copy, but unfortunately I have no material at hand--"

"It would be a useless waste of time, sir, if you had," Captain Rudstone interrupted, almost fiercely. "The characters are meaningless. I'll warrant 'tis but a jest on the part of some crack-brained hunter or trapper, or possibly one of the laborers who built the fort. And surely we have more serious matters to think about!"

"Ay, that is true!" I a.s.sented, wondering meanwhile at the captain's earnestness. "Cryptogram or not, we'll leave it for wiser heads than ours! Come, reset the stone!"

Baptiste and Carteret lifted the fragments of the slab, and fitted them into place again. That done, I ceased to think of the mystery, and it was not subsequently referred to.

It was a great relief, after the hardships at the fort and the exposure of the long march, to have a shelter over us once more. The danger of pursuit was a specter that had faded behind us, and we counted on reaching Fort Charter at the end of another day's journey. We found some rickety stools and benches, and drawing them around the roaring fire, we ate our simple meal with thankful hearts. Flora sat beside me, and I watched her lovely face, now pensive, now radiant with happiness and love, as the flickering glow of the flames played upon it. I held myself a lucky man to have won such a treasure.

But we were devouring almost the last of our food; indeed, when supper was finished nothing remained but a sack of cornmeal and half a pound of dried fish. It was necessary to provide for the next day, since we would march but poorly on empty stomachs and so we arranged a plan that we had partly settled on that morning.

The suggestion was mine. About five miles to the east, in a hilly and timbered bit of country, a spring bubbled up, so cold and swift that it never froze near its source. The deer and other game knew it, and came to the place by day and night to drink, and there I proposed to guide one or two of my companions.

"We are certain to be back before midnight," I said, "for we can make the round trip in less than three hours. And I'll promise venison for breakfast--or perhaps moose meat."

"Will it be safe to use firearms?" asked Christopher Burley.

"I don't think there is any risk," I answered. "There are no Indian villages within many miles, and as for our old enemies, they are probably searching for us in the neighborhood of the trail to Fort York."

To this Carteret and some of the other men a.s.sented. They were all eager to go with me.

"I wish you would stay behind, Denzil," Flora said wistfully.

"But I alone know the exact spot where the deer drink," I answered.

"Have no fear; I will return safely."

"At least let me sit up until you come," she pleaded.

"I am afraid I must say no," I replied. "You need sleep and rest too badly. And here, between these walls, you will be as safe as if you were in Fort Charter."

Flora yielded without further words, but there was an appealing, anxious look in her eyes that I remembered afterward. Twilight had turned to darkness, and no time was lost in preparing for the start. I chose to accompany me Carteret and Captain Rudstone; and I fancied the latter was ill pleased at his selection though he spoke otherwise. We donned coats and caps, strapped our snowshoes on our feet, and looked to the loading and priming of our muskets.

As a matter of precaution, I decided to set a watch outside the fort while we were gone--and indeed through the night--and Malcolm Cameron volunteered for the service. On pretense of showing Flora something I found an opportunity to s.n.a.t.c.h a kiss from her lips and to whisper a few foolish words into her ear. A little room to one side had been reserved for her, and a comfortable bed made of blankets. The rest were to sleep around the fireplace.

The moon was shining from a starry sky and the air was still and cold when the three of us started away. We waved our hands to Cameron, who was at the stockade gates, and plunged eastward into the forest. I led off, and Captain Rudstone and Carteret followed in single file.

At the first I was troubled by a vague premonition of coming disaster, which, in default of sound reason, I set down to Flora's ill-concealed solicitude for my safety. But when we had gone a mile or so this feeling wore off, and I enjoyed the exhilaration of striding on snowshoes over the frozen crust, through the silent solitudes of the wilderness, by rock and hill and moonlit glade. Never had the spell of the Great Lone Land thrilled me more deeply. Watchful and alert, we glided on from tree to tree, our shadows trailing behind us, and the evergreen recesses of the wood stretching on all sides like black pits. Birds and beasts were still; the only sound was the light crunch of our feet, the crackle now and then of a fallen twig.

Not a word was spoken until we came to a gap between two mighty hills, a short distance beyond which, on the verge of a flat of marshland, lay the spot we sought. Then I briefly explained to my companions what we must do.

We made a detour in a semicircle, working our way around to the right side of the wind, and so approached the spring. The cover of bushes and trees ended fifty yards short of it, and with the utmost caution we progressed that far. Crouching on the hard crust, scarcely daring to breathe, we peeped out.

I had expected to see several head of game, at the least, and I was disappointed. Only one was in sight--a fair-sized buck. He was drinking at the source of the spring, and the moonlight glistened on his p.r.o.nged antlers and on the bubbling water.

"We have but a single chance," I said in a whisper. "We must run no risk of losing it. I take it you are a good shot, Captain Rudstone?"

"I have twice killed my man in a duel," was the curt reply.

"Then you and I will fire together," I continued, "when I count three.

And do you reserve your ball, Carteret, if by any chance we both miss.

Ready now!"

"All right," said the captain, as he took aim.