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He turned to Pierre in dismay. Pierre's face lighted up with the spirit of fresh adventure. Desperate enterprises roused him; the impossible had a charm for him. "I will go to Fort O'Battle," he said. "Give me another pistol." "You cannot do it alone," said Halby, hope, however, in his voice. "I will do it, or it will do me, voila!" Pierre replied. Halby passed over a pistol.
When old Throng the trader, trembling with sickness and misery, got on his knees to Captain Halby and groaned, "She didn't want to go; they dragged her off; you'll fetch her back, won't ye? she always had a fancy for you, cap'n," Pierre shrugged a shoulder and said: "But you stole her when she was in her rock-a-by, my Throng you and your Manette."
"Pshaw! The girl is her own master." "I mean, someone will probably get hurt over there." He nodded in the direction of Fort O'Battle. "That's in the game. The girl is worth fighting for, hein?" "Of course, and the law must protect her. It's a free country." "So true, my captain," murmured Pierre drily. "It is wonderful what a man will do for the law." The tone struck Halby.
Only half a lung I got, an' her boneset and camomile 'd save it for a bit, mebbe mebbe!" "It's clear," said Halby, "that they trespassed, and they haven't proved their right to her." "Tonnerre, what a thinker!" said Pierre, mocking. Halby did not notice. His was a solid sense of responsibility. "She is of age?" he half asked, half mused. "She's twenty-one," answered the old man, with difficulty.
The Trader got up and stood between the two men, coughing much, his face straining, his eyes bloodshot, as he looked anxiously from Pierre to Halby. He was the sad wreck of a strong man. Nothing looked strong about him now save his head, which, with its long grey hair, seemed badly balanced by the thin neck, through which the terrible cough was hacking.
When old Throng the trader, trembling with sickness and misery, got on his knees to Captain Halby and groaned, "She didn't want to go; they dragged her off; you'll fetch her back, won't ye? she always had a fancy for you, cap'n," Pierre shrugged a shoulder and said: "But you stole her when she was in her rock-a-by, my Throng you and your Manette."
I am sick for adventure, and then there is mademoiselle such a finger she has for a ven'son pudding." Without a word Halby wrote on a leaf in his notebook, and presently handed the slip to Pierre. "That's your commission as a special constable," he said, "and here's the seal on it." He handed over a pistol. Pierre raised his eyebrows at it, but Halby continued: "It has the Government mark.
"Give me another pistol." "You cannot do it alone," said Halby, hope, however, in his voice. "I will do it, or it will do me, voila!" Pierre replied. Halby passed over a pistol. "I'll never forget it, on my honour, if you do it," he said. Pierre mounted his horse and said, as if a thought had struck him: "If I stand for the law in this, will you stand against it some time for me?"
Then he turned to Halby: "You're a magistrate make me a special constable; I'll go, monsieur le capitaine of no company." Halby stared. He knew Pierre's bravery, his ingenuity and daring. But this was the last thing he expected: that the malicious, railing little half-breed would work with him and the law. Pierre seemed to understand his thoughts, for he said: "It is not for you.
"But she is prairie-born, and you!" "I'm a prairie-rider." After a moment Pierre said, as if to himself: "So quiet and clean, and the print calico and muslin, and the ivory brush!" It is hard to say whether he was merely working on Halby that he be true to the girl, or was himself softhearted for the moment.
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