CHAPTER XL.

A STARTLING CHANGE.

We found a few men up, but most of them had turned in, and thus some little time was lost in selecting and rousing them. As quietly as possible--for we did not want to alarm the whole fort--the horses were led out and saddled. Then the twenty of us mounted, filed through the gates and rode off to the north. Among those chosen--it was my suggestion--were Luke Hutter and Carteret. I was up in front, with Lieutenant Boyd and his fellow officers.

Our destination, Lagarde's store, was a stoutly-built log house standing quite by itself, and near a lonely trail that led into the wilderness.

It had been erected a few years before, and served the Northwest people for a small trading post until they constructed larger ones. Then it was turned over to Pierre Lagarde, one of their own men, who ran it as a combined supply store and lodging house for pa.s.sing voyageurs and hunters. It was a rough place in these times of ill feeling, and was avoided by Hudson Bay Company men. I knew a good bit about it myself, and what more there was to know Lieutenant Boyd vouchsafed as we rode along.

"It was natural that the ruffians should break their journey there," he concluded. "They will probably be sleeping, and I don't antic.i.p.ate any trouble in getting the prisoner into our hands. As for Lagarde, he is a bl.u.s.tering fellow, but a coward at heart."

"They won't show light if they are seven to twenty," said I. "But do you really believe they have dared to capture one of our couriers?"

"They would dare anything, these Northwest Company scoundrels," replied the lieutenant. "And Walker's information, I a.s.sure you, is always accurate."

By this time we had left Port Garry a couple of miles behind us, and far off to our right a couple of twinkling lights on the horizon marked the little settlement. On we went at a rattling pace, the hoofs of our horses ringing on the hard, frozen snow. The night was dark and bitterly cold; the stars shone in the steely vault of the sky, but there was no moon.

Presently we dipped into a heavy forest, which made the road gleam whiter by contrast. When we had come within a mile of our goal, we settled down to a trot, and a little later the word to halt and dismount was pa.s.sed along the line in a whisper.

"I don't want to give the rascals any warning," the lieutenant explained. "It will be far the wisest plan to take them by surprise, before they can show fight. We are less than a quarter of a mile from the store now."

The men were quickly out of the saddle, and three of them were told off to guard the horses, which we tethered to saplings by the side of the road. Then the rest of us--seventeen in number--looked to our muskets and started forward on foot. We moved as silently as possible, and soon reached the edge of the forest, where we halted in the deep shadow of the trees.

Before us was a s.p.a.cious clearing, fifty yards across which stood Lagarde's store. Smoke was pouring from the chimney and a ray of light was visible under one of the shuttered windows; but not a sound could be heard, and not a moving object could be seen on the white snow crust.

"It's all right," said Boyd. "They have turned in for the night, and I don't suppose they have set a watch; Lagarde keeps no dog."

"We had better make sure," suggested Nicoll. "I'm light on my feet--if you say the word I'll have a closer look about."

I offered to accompany him--I was keenly curious about the prisoner--and the lieutenant consented.

"Go on, then," he said, "but don't let them catch you spying, and get back as fast as you can. It's too cold to wait about long."

So off we went, Nicoll and I, and we crept across the clearing with scarcely more noise than a cat would have made. A hum of voices grew on our ears as we approached, proving that Boyd's surmise was wrong.

The conversation, and the light under the windows, came from the room in the nearest angle of the house. But there were no crevices between the logs, and the shutters fitted so tightly that we could see nothing.

We heard little more. A number of men were talking in low tones, and after listening a minute we gathered that they had a prisoner and intended taking him down to the Northwest Company's fort in the morning.

We made a circuit of the house finding the other rooms dark and silent, and then safely rejoined our party and communicated our discoveries to the lieutenant.

"Up and awake, are they?" he muttered. "And it's a sure thing about the prisoner! Well, they won't have him long. I'll surround the house and induce them to open the door by craft. If that don't work--?"

"Look here," interrupted Nicoll. "I didn't tell you that I recognized the voice of one of those fellows in the room."

"Ah! Who was it?"

"Ruthven!"

"Are you sure, man?"

"Yes; positive!"

"Then there is all the more reason for acting with promptness and decision," the lieutenant said emphatically. "Ruthven is a dangerous man," he added to me. "He is an official of the Northwest Company, and is said to have stirred up the half-breeds against us. But I'll get the upper hand of him this time."

A moment later, Boyd having given the force sharp and precise instructions, we sallied out from the woods and across the clearing. As stealthily as panthers we gained the house, and a dozen of our men quickly surrounded it. Five posted themselves before the door--the lieutenant, Nicoll and McKay, Carteret and myself. We held our weapons ready for use.

"If they don't let us in at once," Boyd whispered, "we'll force an entrance. It's not a case for parleying."

With that he rapped on the door--by no means lightly. There was a sudden hush inside, then a cautious approach of booted feet, and then a gruff voice demanded:

"Who's there?"

"A friend," answered the lieutenant.

"What do you want?"

"I have an important message for Jim Ruthven."

"From the fort?"

"Yes, from the fort. Open, Pierre!"

An instant of hesitation. Creak, creak! Bolts were being withdrawn. Next the door swung open, and we dimly saw the bearded, rum-bloated face of Pierre Lagarde. The lieutenant's ruse had thoroughly deceived him, and at sight of us he was struck dumb. Before he could give an alarm we had jammed him back between the door and the wall, and dashed past him into the room.

"Don't stir!" cried Boyd in a ringing voice. "The first one of you that moves, or reaches for a weapon, I'll shoot like a dog!"

And he leveled a pistol in each hand.

It was the neatest piece of work I had ever seen done. We had surprised the enemy at a moment when they believed themselves in perfect security, and they were powerless to offer any resistance. Seven men surrounded a table littered with cups and bottles, all hunters or voyageurs save one--a better-dressed, crafty-featured man, whom I took for Ruthven.

They sat staring at us with savage faces and flashing eyes, trembling with rage, muttering deep curses. Their muskets were stacked on the wall behind them, and they dared not reach for knives or pistols.

"I've got you trapped," the lieutenant added. "You can't help yourselves. Three times your number are outside. But I mean you no harm.

My business can be settled without bloodshed--"

"Do you think you are acting in your rights, sir," Ruthven broke in defiantly, "when you invade the property of the Northwest Company and threaten its servants?"

"You scoundrel!" cried Boyd, "were you acting in your rights when you waylaid and captured a courier of the Hudson Bay Company?"

"It's a lie!"

"Come, we know better," said I. "The prisoner is in this house and we want him at once."

"And who are you, my young c.o.c.k-of-the-walk?" snarled Ruthven.

"Denzil Carew," I replied, on the spur of the moment, "formerly of Fort Royal."

By the sudden pallor of the man's face I knew that the shot had struck home--that he knew all about the burning of the fort, and his companions looked no less disconcerted and alarmed. He changed the subject instantly.