Part 1 (2/2)
So, when Yorke said the captain had ordered me to remain in bed, I thought for a moment I would have to obey; but having swallowed the hot gruel, into which Yorke had put a modic.u.m of good Orleans ratafia, I was straightway infused with new spirit (I meant not that for wit), and such strength flowed through my limbs as I had not felt for days.
”Yorke,” I said, springing out of bed with a haste that made me light-headed for a moment, ”help me into my clothes, and be quick about it; I think I hear sounds below that betoken getting ready for departure.”
Even as I spoke I ran to a stand on which stood a basin and a small ewer of water. I filled the basin, and plunged my head into the icy water. I drew it out, sputtering and s.h.i.+vering, and, seizing a towel, gave my head and neck and hair so vigorous a rubbing that I did not see Yorke slip out of the room. When I turned to speak to him I found him gone, afraid either of being a partner in my disobedience to the captain, or of being left behind if he delayed longer.
Left to myself, I did my best to hurry with my clothing. I had not much experience in dressing myself, but I had been compelled to leave behind me in Philadelphia the black boy who had never before, since I could remember, been absent from me a day. I had been eager enough to part with him, thinking it ill befitted a soldier of fortune, as I intended to be, to be coddled by a valet, and I had not missed him much, for Yorke had been always ready to lend a helping hand when I needed it. Now I was of a mind to curse the vanity that had led me to fit myself out with doeskins that were of so snug a cut they needed much tugging to get into them, and with endless lacings with which my awkward fingers, clumsier than ever from the icy water and the trembling the fever had left me in, fumbled desperately.
But I was ready at last, and seizing my sword-belt in one hand and my hat in the other, I started with hot haste for the door, fearing I might be, after all, too late. As I opened it, a sound smote my ears that struck terror to my heart: the voices and the laughter of young maidens. I stepped back involuntarily. I had not thought of the possibility of meeting any one at that early hour but my host and my captain, and I had not given a thought to my appearance. Now I took an anxious survey of myself in the small French mirror that hung above the stand. I was vexed beyond measure at what I saw.
”They will take me for a girl,” I muttered between my teeth, ”and flout me accordingly.”
It had ever been a source of extreme mortification to me that I should have rosy cheeks like any maiden's, but now, owing to the hard scrubbing I had given them, they were all aflame, and their color was heightened by the pallor my recent illness had given to brow and temples. My hair, from its wetting, was curling in ringlets all around my head. I seized a brush and tried desperately to reduce them to straightness, but the brus.h.i.+ng served only to bring out in stronger relief the glint of gold that I despised, and certainly my eyes had never looked more blue and s.h.i.+ning.
”They will think me a girl or a baby!” I muttered once more, and was in such disgust with myself I was ready to go back to bed. But bethinking me that would only leave me the longer in this House of Dames, I seized my belt once more, buckled it on with a vicious twitch, and strode boldly to the door.
There I stopped a moment to collect all my courage, soothing myself with the reflection that I stood a good six feet in my moccasins, and though I carried no superfluous flesh, my shoulders were as broad as my captain's and my muscles like whip-cords. Fortified by these considerations, I strode on boldly to the landing at the head of the wide staircase leading down to the great hall.
There I stopped again; for while the landing was in gloom, the hall was brilliantly illuminated by a roaring, blazing lightwood fire, looking cheery enough in the gray light of the frosty morning, and throwing into strong relief two groups on either side of the fireplace. On one side stood my captain, evidently ready for a start, and making his adieus to his host. I glanced eagerly at Mr. Gratiot and at the elderly man who stood beside him, who, I thought, was likely to be none other than Mr. Francis Vigo. I had heard much of these two men from General George Rogers Clarke, whose lonely retreat on the Ohio I had often visited during my stay in Kentucky. They had been General Clarke's best friends and helpers in the early days of the war, when he had made that daring attack on Vincennes, and I knew Captain Clarke's mission to St. Louis had something to do with discharging his brother's obligation to them. They were smaller men than my captain, of a slender, graceful build, and the hair of both was quite white, but from my post of observation I could see that they were men of courtly manners, well used to the ways of the world, and talking now quite eagerly with all the wealth of gesture and expression natural to Frenchmen.
The firelight played strongly on the face of my captain, whom I had already begun to adore, as did every one who came into close companions.h.i.+p with him. I gazed admiringly at his broad, white brow, clear-cut features, and firmly knit figure, a little square of build, but looking every inch the frontier soldier in his leathern doublet and leggings and high-laced moccasins. Over one shoulder he had thrown his blue military cloak, for the trip across the river promised to be a cold one, and he carried in his hand a hat with a drooping plume. I wondered if the merry group of girls on the other side of the fireplace was not impressed by such a handsome and soldierly stranger, and a bachelor to boot. I thought I could detect an occasional conscious glance in his direction and a furtive preening of skirts and fluttering of fans, that betokened they were not insensible to the presence of the brave captain.
There were six of the young maidens, and all but two of them were in ball costume; flowered silks, and arms and shoulders gleaming white through fine lace, powdered hair, and patches and paint, they might have stepped out of a Philadelphia ball-room, I thought, and was astonished at the thought. I had not expected to find court beauties on the frontier, yet the Chouteaus, the Gratiots, and the Papins were names I had often heard in my own home as men of wealth and vast emprise.
The six girls were chatting gaily in French, and I was so absorbed in my contemplation of them that I did not at first consider the strangeness of their appearance in that costume so early in the morning. When it did occur to me, I concluded the four must have come over from St. Louis to attend the ball and had no other dress to return in, and the other two were doubtless Mr. Gratiot's daughters, which I learned afterward was the true explanation.
But now bethinking me it was high time to make my descent, and running quickly over in my mind the way to make it most effective,--for I wished to bear myself bravely before the young maidens,--I determined to place my left hand on the hilt of my sword, to hold my hat, which also bore a sweeping plume, in my right hand pressed close to my heart, and with head held high and borne a little backward, to descend with the stately minuet step. I flattered myself that with such a manner as I felt sure I could a.s.sume those saucy maidens would forget my rosy cheeks and my curls and think only of my air of _grand seigneur_.
I glanced down to see that my costume was all right, and now I was glad that my doeskins fitted so perfectly, even if they were hard to get into in a hurry, that my high moccasins were so beautifully and elaborately beaded in purple and yellow, with broad slashes of fringe falling from the tops of them, and that my leathern doublet sat so well, as my peep into the mirror had convinced me it did.
As I started down, feeling well satisfied with my costume, yet trembling inwardly at the thought of the array of bright eyes I was to encounter, my glance fell on an untied lacing at one knee. I stooped to retie it, and at that moment heard what seemed to me the sweetest voice I had ever listened to, call:
”a moi, Leon, a moi,” followed by a clear, soft whistle.
I was still clumsily fumbling with my lacers (my fingers have ever been all thumbs when there is any dainty task to be performed) when I heard a rush of soft, padded feet, and down the corridor behind me, in response to that clear whistle, bounded a great dog. Through the arch that my bent limbs made in stooping he saw the glow of the firelight from below and made straight for it. But alas! the arch was narrower than he thought, and dog and man went rolling and tumbling down the staircase, b.u.mping and bounding from stair to stair, a wild melee of doeskin legs and s.h.a.ggy paws and clanging sword and wildly brandished arms, making vain clutches at the air to stay the headlong descent.
Deep-mouthed yelps voiced the terror of the dog at this unexpected Sindbad who refused to be shaken off. No words could voice the overwhelming shame of the man at this unmannerly presentation of himself before a group of young maidens, when so dignified an entrance had been planned.
As we struck the polished walnut of the hall floor, I disentangled myself and sprang to my feet, where I stood, scarlet with shame, head drooping, a pitiable object indeed. There had been an amazed, and perhaps on the maidens' side a terrified, silence during our noisy descent. Now from the maidens there arose first a suppressed giggle and then an irresistible peal of laughter, joined to the hearty guffaws of the men. My shame was fast giving place to rising wrath, in no degree appeased by the consciousness of the spectacle I presented.
The dog, a magnificent mastiff, by that time recovering from his confusion, and feeling as keenly as I, no doubt, the derogation of his dignity, and, with a dog's unreason, regarding me as the agent of his humiliation when I was in fact the victim of his own stupidity, sprang at me with a vicious growl.
Here was an occasion to vent my boiling wrath. Quick as thought my sword sprang from its sheath and came down flat-sided with a ringing blow on the brute's head. I have ever been a merciful man to all beasts, and dogs and horses I have loved and they have loved me; and even in my wrath and the quick necessity of defense I remembered to use the flat of my sword; yet such is the strength of my sword-arm from much practice, increased, I fear, by a venom instigated by those silvery peals of laughter, that I bowled the brute over as easily as if he had been a ninepin.
With a howl of mingled rage and pain he recovered himself instantly and crouched to spring upon me once more, with such bloodthirst in his eyes that I saw now I would have to defend myself in earnest. But as he was almost in the act of springing, from among the group of maidens there rushed what seemed to my dazzled vision a small whirlwind of satins and laces and velvets and jewels, and flung itself upon the dog with a ringing cry of ”a bas, Leon! tais-toi, mon ange!”
The brute yielded obedience at once to the restraining arm and tones of command, though still regarding me with vicious eyes and uttering threatening growls.
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