Part 33 (1/2)

”But my unpardonable sin----”

”What sin? The evil lies with him.”

”Yet, wedded, I sought you--I loved you--I love you now--I offer my amends to you--myself to do with as it pleases you.”

”Sweetheart, you could not stir from the high place where you reign enthroned though I and Satan leagued to pull you down. I, not you, owe the amends; I, not you, await your pleasure. Yours to command, mine to obey. Now, tell me, love, where my honor lies?”

”Linked with mine, Carus.”

”And yours?”

”In the high places, where I sit unsullied, waiting for you.”

For a long while we stood there together at the window. Candle-light faded from the dim cas.e.m.e.nts of the shops; the patrol pa.s.sed, muskets glittering in the starlight, and the tavern lamp went out.

And when the last tap-room loiterer had slunk away to camp or cabin, and when the echo of the patrol's tread had died out in the fragrant darkness, came one to the door below, hammering the knocker; and I saw his spurs and scabbard s.h.i.+ning in the l.u.s.ter of the stars, and in my heart a still voice repeated, ”This is Destiny came a-knocking, armed with Fate. This is the place and the hour!”

And it was so, for presently the landlord came to the door, calling me softly. ”I come,” I answered, and turned to Elsin. ”Shall I to-morrow find you the same sweet maid I have loved from the first all blindly?--the same dear tyrant, plaguing me, coaxing me, blaming, praising, unreasoning, inconstant--the same brave, impulsive, loyal friend that one day, G.o.d willing, shall become my wife?”

”Yes, Carus.”

We kissed one another; hands tightened, lingered, and fell apart. And so I went away down the dim stairs, strangely aware that Destiny was waiting there for me. And it was, shaped like Colonel Hamilton, who rose to meet me, offering the hand of Fate; and I took it and held it, looking him straight between the eyes.

”I know why you have come,” I said, smiling. ”I am to journey north and move heaven and earth to thwart this h.e.l.l's menace flung at us by Walter Butler. Ah, sir, I was certain of it--I knew it, Colonel Hamilton. You make me very, very happy. Pray you, inform his Excellency of my deep grat.i.tude. He has chosen fire to fight fire, I think. Every thought, every nerve in me is directed to the ruin of this man. Waking, sleeping, in sickness, in health, in adversity, in prosperity, soul and body and mind are bent on his undoing. I shall speak to the Oneidas with clan authority; I shall speak to the Iroquois at Thendara; I shall listen to the long roll of the dead; I shall read the record of ages from the sacred belts. The eyes of the forest shall see for me; the ears of the wilderness listen for me; every tree shall whisper for me, every leaf spy for me; and the voices of a thousand streams shall guide me, and the eight winds shall counsel me, and the stars stretch out their beams for me, pointing the way, so that this man shall die and his wickedness be ended forever.”

I held out my hand and took the written order in silence, reading it at a glance.

”It shall be done, Colonel Hamilton. When am I to leave?”

”Now. The schooner starts when you set foot aboard, Mr. Renault.”

And, after a moment: ”Madam goes with you?”

”To West Point.”

”I trust that she finds some few comforts aboard the _Wind-Flower_. I could not fill all the list, Mr. Renault; but a needle will do much, and the French fabrics are pretty----”

He looked at me, smiling: ”For you, sir, there are s.h.i.+rts and stockings and a forest dress of deerskin.”

”A rifle, too?”

”The best to be had, and approved by Jack Mount. Murphy himself has sighted it. Have I done well?”

”Yes,” said I grimly, and, opening the door of the kitchen, bade the landlord have our horses saddled and brought around, and asked him to send a servant to warn Elsin that we must leave within the quarter.

Presently I heard our horses at the block, stamping the sod, and a moment later Elsin came, eager, radiant, sweetly receiving Colonel Hamilton when I named him. He saluted her hand profoundly; then, as it still rested lightly on his fingers, he turned to me, almost bluntly: ”Never, Mr. Renault, can we officers forgive you for denying us this privilege. I have heard, sir, that Mrs. Renault was beautiful and amiable; I never dreamed that such loveliness could be within our lines. One day you shall make amends for this selfishness to every lady and every officer on the Hudson.”

At the word which named her as my wife her face crimsoned, but in her eyes the heavenly sweetness dawned like a star, dazzling me.