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Updated: June 12, 2025
If it were point of sword now, I could laugh at the man, but he possesses some ugly facts difficult to explain." "Yet 'twas not your hand which did the deed?" "I pledge you my word to that. Yet this is no time to talk of the matter. I have wounds to be looked to, and would learn first how Barbeau fares.
Pain is always by the side of joy, the spondee by the dactyl. Master, I must relate to you the history of the Barbeau mansion. It ends in tragic fashion. It was in 1319, in the reign of Philippe V., the longest reign of the kings of France. The moral of the story is that the temptations of the flesh are pernicious and malignant.
Can we not at once begin the journey?" It was an hour later, after we had eaten, that we left the bluff, and turned westward into the great woods. Barbeau led the way, moving along the bank of a small stream, and I followed, with De Artigny close behind.
There we will be in the zone of danger, although thus far I perceive no sign of Indian presence. Have you, Barbeau?" "None except this feather of a war bonnet I picked up at the big rock below." "A feather! Is it Iroquois?" "It is cut square, and no Algonquin ever does that." "Ay, let me see! You are right, Barbeau; 'twas dropped from a Tuscarora war bonnet. Then the wolves have been this way."
Nothing touched me, not even a gripping hand, but there were Indian shots, giving me glimpse of the hellish scene, of naked bodies, long waving hair, eyes mad with terror, and red arms brandished, the rifles they bore shining in the red glare. I saw Barbeau grip his gun by the barrel and strike as he ran. Again and again it fell crunching against flesh.
"I mind me the time," he said courteously, "when Rene did me equal service." "The savages have fled?" "'Twas short, and sweet, Madame, and those who failed to fly are lying yonder." "Yet some among you are hurt?" "Barbeau hath an ugly wound ay, bear him along, lads, and have the cut looked to but as for the rest of us, there is no serious harm done."
Barbeau, creep forward about the bank; be a savage now, and make no noise until I give the word. You next, Madame, and keep close enough to touch your leader. The instant I yell, and Barbeau fires, the two of you leap up, and rush forward. Pay no heed to me." "You would have us desert you, Monsieur?" "It will be every one for himself," he answered shortly.
"The lady did not know," he said gravely, as though he felt the necessity of an explanation. "She was at school in a convent at Quebec, and no rumor reached her. She is thankful to you for what you have said, Barbeau, and can trust you as her father's friend and comrade. May I tell him the truth, Madame? The man may have other information of value."
De Artigny, yet too weak to rise unaided, sat in a chair Barbeau had made beside the open window, and to his call I joined him, my arm on his shoulder as I also gazed down upon the scene below. It was one of peace now, the silvery Illinois winding hither and yon among its green islands, the shadowy woods darkening one bank, and the vast meadows stretching northward from the other.
At night, under the stars and beside the blaze of campfire, Barbeau sang rollicking soldier songs, and occasionally De Artigny joined him in the choruses. To all appearances we were absolutely alone in the desolation of the wilderness. Not once in all that distance did we perceive sign of human life, nor had we cause to feel the slightest uneasiness regarding savage enemies.
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