"I like not to inquire into mademoiselle's little affairs, but this is of the gravest importance. Will you tell us the contents of that note, ma chere?"

Mademoiselle hesitated, and glanced almost unconsciously at the captain and at me. We both sprang to our feet at the same moment, and the captain spoke:

"The lad and I will step out on the gallery, where, if you permit, we will light our pipes."

But with a quick gesture of dissent, mademoiselle also sprang to her feet.

"No, no! mon capitaine, no, no! Meestaire, it is not'ing, not'ing. I will say all before you. 'Tis only that the chevalier asks may he escort me to the peek-neek on Chouteau's Pond."

"Sit down, gentlemen, if you please," said the doctor; "I think it wise for us to hold a council of war. I shall need your advice much, possibly your help. First, I want to say that some weeks ago I received letters from France warning me of a plot to capture Mademoiselle Pelagie and carry her back to France. A week ago this mysterious stranger arrived in St. Louis. Gabriel Cerre picked him up in Ste. Genevieve and brought him home with him, and that is about all any one knows of him, except that he claims to be of an old French family, who has saved enough from the wreck to permit him to travel and see the world. When he has finished this trip he declares he will return and settle on his estates on the Loire which he says have been returned to him by Bonaparte. Whether Black Hawk meant him when he bade me beware of the White Wolf I know not. I could get very little information when I spoke to him before leaving Pierre Chouteau's, and I am not sure he had any to give me, yet I think he knows something. I confess I have been suspicious of this fellow from the first, arriving, as he did, on the heels of my letter of warning. And now what think you 'tis best to do?"

I was eager enough to say what I thought best to do, but I knew my place better than to speak before my elders, and so I waited for my captain. Mademoiselle was not so modest, or perhaps she thought no one had a better right than herself to speak on a subject so nearly concerning her.

"I think, sir," she said, lapsing into her native tongue, "you wrong the Chevalier Le Moyne. I have seen much of him in the week of his stay at Gabriel Cerre's, and he has been invariably respectful and most gentleman-like in all his demeanor."

"'Tis the very fact of his seeing so much of you, my child, that first roused my suspicions. He is forever hanging round you at dance and dinner; not even Josef Papin gets much chance to come nigh you."

Mademoiselle flushed slightly at the mention of Josef Papin's name--a name I was beginning, for some reason, to dislike.

"I should think," she said demurely, "there might be other reasons for that than suspicious ones"; and then she laughed merrily when I murmured, "Vraiment!" and touched my heart with my handkerchief. I thought she was mocking me again.

"Mademoiselle is quite right," said Captain Clarke, gravely; "there are doubtless very natural reasons for the chevalier's devotion, yet I think it would be well, nevertheless, to act on Dr. Saugrain's suspicions. May I inquire whether mademoiselle has accepted the chevalier's offer of escort?"

We all listened eagerly for the answer.

"No," said mademoiselle; "I had just received the note when you arrived, and I would not answer it until I had consulted my guardian.

He is very stern with me, messieurs," turning to us with a witching smile that I could see pleased the good doctor greatly.

"Then," continued the captain, "it would be a very easy matter, I suppose, to decline his escort."

But La Pet.i.te pouted.

"Not so easy, mon capitaine. I have no reason to offer, and it would shut me off from accepting a second invitation."

"I think," said Dr. Saugrain, "it would be better that you should not go to the picnic. Chouteau's Pond is beyond the stockade, and shut in by the woods; it would be an ideal spot for a surprise and a capture.

There are always plenty of rascally Osages to be hired for a trifle to carry out any such villainy."

"Not go!" exclaimed mademoiselle, in dismay. "But it is given for me!

It is my fete! Josef Papin planned it entirely for me, he said."

Mademoiselle was now growing rosy red, for, with a child's eagerness to carry her point at all hazards, she had said more than she meant to.

"Then why did not Josef offer himself as your escort?"

"He will, probably, later; but," and she tossed her head like the spoiled beauty she was, "it will serve him right, for being so slow, to find that I have accepted another. Besides which," and she shrugged her shoulders with all the airs of a Parisian dame, "you know your bourgeois etiquette. I cannot accept another: it would be a just cause for a duel au pistolets."

"C'est vrai," said the doctor, with an answering shrug, and looking woefully perplexed.

"Now, if you will permit me," suggested the captain, "since mademoiselle is so sure Mr. Papin will ask her later, why can she not plead to the chevalier a previous engagement?"

But not for a moment would mademoiselle listen to that.

"And be the laughing-stock of all St. Louis when it gets about, as it surely will. I refuse the chevalier because I prefer to wait for Monsieur Papin. Monsieur Papin hears of it and invites some one else to teach me not to be so sure, or," primly, "I have given him undue encouragement."

"Then," said the doctor, gravely, "I see nothing for it but that you stay away from the picnic and write the chevalier that you have decided not to go. Unless," he added hastily, seeing the gathering storm on Pelagie's brow, "unless--" and then he hesitated, much embarra.s.sed. "Perhaps our young friend here would like to attend one of our rural picnics, and would be willing to look after you and give you the opportunity of writing to the chevalier that you have a previous engagement."

It was now my turn to blush. I had been ardently longing to offer my services, but not for a moment had I thought of daring. Now it was thrust upon me.

"If mademoiselle would be so good," I murmured, bowing low, "I am her obedient servant."

But mademoiselle was speechless. One moment she turned white, and the next she turned red, and then white again. When she found her voice she said, looking not at all at me, but straight at Dr. Saugrain:

"I will remain at home, monsieur. I care not to be a burden upon unwilling hands."

And then rising to her feet, with her head held high, her guitar on one arm, and the other hand still on the mastiff's head, she said:

"Allons, Leon!" and was sweeping proudly from the room.

I was in such consternation that probably I would have sat like any b.u.mpkin and let her go, if not that, as she pa.s.sed me, although her head was turned from me, it was not quite so much turned but that I caught a sudden quiver of the little chin, held proudly in air, and something bright glistening on the long, dark lashes. I sprang quickly before her. There was an angry growl from Leon, who no doubt thought I intended to serve his mistress the same trick I had served him, but I did not heed it.

"Mademoiselle!" I entreated, "I beg you will reconsider. Nothing could give me more pride and pleasure. Besides," adopting an argumentative tone, "you know it would be my only chance for attending the picnic, and I have a vast desire to engage in some of your St. Louis festivities, and to meet some of the young maidens I was deprived of meeting last night."

She was compelled to stop,--I barred her way; but for a few moments she showed no signs of relenting. She dashed away the shining drops from her lashes, and quieted Leon with a low "Taise-toi." But gradually I saw her face change, and then, still holding herself proudly, and with the air of a queen graciously condescending to bestow a favor upon a suppliant, but also with a smile of radiant sweetness, she spoke, and her voice was like the song of the thrush beside running waters:

"Very well, monsieur; if I am not to be considered as putting myself under obligations to a stranger, I will go and write the chevalier that I have a previous engagement."

CHAPTER V

I GO TO A PICNIC ON CHOUTEAU'S POND

"Many a youth and many a maid Dancing in the chequered shade."

The good doctor uttered a sigh of relief as mademoiselle left the room, followed by madame, who no doubt, in the goodness of her heart, went out to praise the young lady for having done as she ought, and to condole with her for being obliged to go to the picnic with a man she knew so slightly, and knew but to dislike.

The sigh was quickly followed by a frown.

"I wish that my ward had not so strong a will of her own. I scarce think it safe for her to go to Chouteau's Pond at all if, as I fear, her enemies are plotting to capture her."

"I will defend her with my life, sir," I hastened to aver, "since you are so good as to intrust her to me."

The doctor smiled at my boyish ardor, but said kindly:

"I would trust her with you sooner than with most, my lad, for I believe I have seen enough of you to know that you are brave to a fault, and entirely trustworthy. But you know not the wiles of these treacherous Osages, and if this Chevalier Le Moyne is the man I fear he is, he is a much to be dreaded villain."