The Hunters of the Hills Read online

  CHAPTER X

  THE MEETING

  Only four or five men, besides themselves, were left in the great roomof the Inn of the Eagle. The looks they gave the three were not hostile,and Robert judged that they belonged to the party known in Quebec ashonnetes gens and described to him already by de Galisonniere. Hethought once of speaking to them, but he decided not to put any strainupon their friendliness. They might have very bitter feelings againstBigot and his corrupt following, but the fact would not of necessityinduce them to help the Bostonnais.

  "I thought it would be best to go to bed," he said, "but I've changed mymind. A little walk first in the open air would be good for all of us.Besides we must stay up long enough to receive the seconds of de Mezy."

  "A walk would be a good thing for you," said Willet--it was noteworthythat despite his great affection for the lad, he did not show anyanxiety about him.

  "Your wrist feels as strong as ever, doesn't it, Robert?" he asked.

  Young Lennox took his right wrist in his left hand and looked at itthoughtfully. He was a tall youth, built powerfully, but his wrists wereof uncommon size and strength.

  "I suppose that paddling canoes during one's formative period over ourlakes and rivers develops the wrists and arms better than anything elsecan," he said.

  "It makes them strong and supple, too," said the hunter. "It gives toyou a wonderful knack which with training can be applied with equalability to something else."

  "As we know."

  "As we know."

  They went out and walked a little while in the streets, curious eyesstill following them, a fact of which they were well aware, althoughthey apparently took no notice of it. Willet observed Robert closely,but he could not see any sign of unsteadiness or excitement. YoungLennox himself seemed to have forgotten the serious business that wouldbe on hand in the morning. His heart again beat a response to Quebecwhich in the dusk was magnificent and glorified. The stone buildingsrose to the size of castles, the great river showed like silver throughthe darkness and on the far shore a single light burned.

  A figure appeared before them. It was de Galisonniere, his ruddy faceanxious.

  "I was hoping that we might meet you," said Robert.

  "What's this I hear about a quarrel between you and de Mezy and a duelin the morning?"

  "You hear the truth."

  "But de Mezy, though he is no friend of mine, is a swordsman, and hashad plenty of experience. You English, or at least you English in yourcolonies, know nothing about the sword, except to wear it as adecoration!"

  Robert laughed.

  "I appreciate your anxiety for me," he said. "It's the feeling of afriend, but don't worry. A few of us in the English colonies do know theuse of the sword, and at the very head of them I should place DavidWillet, whom you know and who is with us."

  "But de Mezy is not going to fight Willet, he is going to fight you."

  "David Willet has been a father to me, more, in truth, than most fathersare to their sons. I've been with him for years, Captain deGalisonniere, and all the useful arts he knows he has tried long andcontinuously to teach to me."

  "Then you mean that the sword you now wear at your thigh is a weapon andnot an ornament?"

  "Primarily, yes, but before we go further into the matter of the sword,I wish to ask you a favor."

  "Ask a dozen, Lennox. We've been companions of the voyage and yourquarrel with de Mezy does not arouse any hostility in me."

  "I felt that it was so, and for that reason I ask the favor. We arestrangers in Quebec. We did not come here to seek trouble with anybody,and so I ask you to be a second for me in this affair with de Mezy. Daveand Tayoga, of course, would act, but at the present juncture, oursbeing an errand of peace and not of war, I'd prefer Frenchmen."

  "Gladly I'll serve you, Lennox, since you indicate that you're aswordsman and are not going to certain death, and I'll bring with me inthe morning a trusty friend, Armand Glandelet, one of our _honnetesgens_ who likes de Mezy as little as I do."

  "I thank you much, my good friend. I knew you would accept, and if allare willing I suggest that we go back now to the Inn of the Eagle."

  "A little trial of the sword in your room would not hurt," said deGalisonniere.

  "That's a good suggestion," said Willet. "A few turns will show whetheryour wrists and your arms and your back are all right. You come with us,of course, Captain de Galisonniere."

  They went to their large room, Captain de Galisonniere procuring on theway two buttons for rapiers from Monsieur Berryer--it seemed that duelswere not uncommon in Quebec--and Willet and Robert, taking off theircoats and waistcoats, faced each other in the light of two largecandles. The young Frenchman watched them critically. He had assisted atmany affairs of honor in both Quebec and Montreal and he knew the buildof a swordsman when he saw one. When Robert stood in his shirt sleeveshe noted his powerful chest and shoulders and arms, and then his eyestraveling to the marvelous wrists were arrested there. He drew in hisbreath as he saw, from the way in which Robert flexed them for a momentor two that they were like wrought steel.

  "If this lad has been taught as they indicate he has, our rufflingbully, Jean de Mezy, is in for a bad half hour," he said to himself.Then he looked at Willet, built heavily, with great shoulders and chest,but with all the spring and activity of a young man. His glance passedon to Tayoga, the young Onondaga, in all the splendor of his forestattire, standing by the wall, his eyes calm and fathomless. It occurredall at once to Captain de Galisonniere that he was in the presence of anextraordinary three, each remarkable in his own way, and, liking theunusual, his interest in them deepened. It did not matter that they werehis official enemies, because on the other hand they were his personalfriends.

  "Now, Robert," said Willet, "watch my eye, because I'm going to put youto a severe test. Ready?"

  "Aye, ready, sir!" replied Robert, speaking like a pupil to his master.Then the two advanced toward the center of the room and faced eachother, raising their slim swords which flashed in the flame of thecandles like thin lines of light. Then Willet thrust like lightning, buthis blade slipped off Robert's, and young Lennox thrust back only tohave his own weapon caught on the other.

  "Ah," exclaimed the gallant Frenchman. "Well done! Well done for both!"

  Then he held his breath as the play of the swords became so fast thatthe eye could scarcely follow. They made vivid lines, and steel flashedupon steel with such speed that at times the ringing sound seemedcontinuous. Willet's agility was amazing. Despite his size and weighthe was as swift and graceful as a dancing master, and the power of hiswrist was wonderful. The amazement of young de Galisonniere increased.He had seen the best swordsmanship in Quebec, and he had seen the bestswordsmanship in Paris, but he had never seen better swordsmanship thanthat shown in a room of the Inn of the Eagle by a man whom he had takento be a mere hunter in the American wilderness.

  De Galisonniere was an artist with the sword himself, and he knewswordsmanship when he saw it. He knew, too, that Lennox was but littleinferior to Willet. He saw that the older man was not sparing the youth,that he was incessantly beating against the strongest parts of hisdefense, and that he was continually seeking out his weakest. Robert wasdriven around and around the room, and yet Willet did not once breakthrough his guard.

  "Ah, beautiful! beautiful!" exclaimed the Frenchman. "I did not knowthat such swordsmen could come out of the woods!"

  His eyes met those of the Onondaga and for the first time he saw a gleamin their dark depths.

  "Their swords are alive," said Tayoga. "They are living streaks offlame."

  "That describes it, my friend," said de Galisonniere. "I shall be proudto be one of the seconds of Mr. Lennox in the morning."

  Willet suddenly dropped the buttoned point of his rapier and raised hisleft hand.

  "Enough, Robert," he said, "I can't allow you to tire yourself tonight,and run the risk of stiffening in the wrist tomorrow. In strength youare superior to de Mezy, and in wind far better.
You should have notrouble with him. Watch his eye and stand for a while on the defensive.One of his habits, will soon wear himself down, and then he will be atyour mercy."

  "You are a wonderful swordsman, Mr. Willet," said de Galisonniere, frankin his admiration. "I did not think such skill, such power and such avariety in attack and defense could be learned outside of Paris."

  "Perhaps not!" said Willet, smiling. "The greatest masters of the swordin the world teach in Paris, and it was there that I learned what Iknow."

  "What, you have been in Paris?"

  "Aye, Captain de Galisonniere, I know my Paris well."

  But he volunteered nothing further and Louis de Galisonniere's delicacykept him from asking any more questions. Nevertheless he had anintensified conviction that three most extraordinary people had come toQuebec, and he was glad to know them. Jean de Mezy, count of France, andpowerful man though he might be, was going to receive a punishmentrichly deserved. He detested Bigot, Cadet, Pean and all their corruptcrowd, while recognizing the fact that they were almost supreme inQuebec. It would be pleasing to the gods for de Mezy to be humiliated,and it did not matter if the humiliation came from the hands of aBostonnais.

  "Would you mind trying a round or two at the foils with me?" he said toWillet. "Since you don't have to fight in the morning you needn't fearany stiffening of the wrist, and I should like to learn something aboutthat low thrust of yours, the one well beneath your opponent's guard,and which only a movement like lightning can reach. You used it fivetimes, unless my eye missed a sixth."

  "And so you noticed it!" said Willet, looking pleased. "I made six suchthrusts, but Robert met them every time. I've trained him to be on thewatch for it, because in a real combat it's sure to be fatal, unlessit's parried with the swiftness of thought."

  "Then teach me," said de Galisonniere eagerly. "We're a fighting lothere in Quebec, and it may save my life some day."

  Willet was not at all averse, and for nearly an hour he taught the youngFrenchman. Then de Galisonniere departed, cautioning Robert to sleepwell, and saying that he would come early in the morning with hisfriend, Glandelet.

  "His advice about sleeping was good, Robert," said Willet. "Now rollinto bed and off with you to slumberland at once."

  Robert obeyed and his nerves were so steady and his mind so thoroughlyat peace that in fifteen minutes he slept. The hunter watched his steadybreathing with satisfaction and said to Tayoga:

  "If our bibulous friend, Count Jean de Mezy, doesn't have a surprise inthe morning, then I'll go back to the woods, and stay there as long as Ilive."

  "Will Lennox kill him?" asked Tayoga.

  "I hadn't thought much about it, Tayoga, but he won't kill him. Robertisn't sanguinary. He doesn't want anybody's blood on his hands, and itwouldn't help our mission to take a life in Quebec."

  "The man de Mezy does not deserve to live."

  Willet laughed.

  "That's so, Tayoga," he said, "but it's no part of our business to goaround taking the lives away from all those who don't make good use of'em. Why, if we undertook such a job we'd have to work hard for the nextthousand years. I think we'd better fall on, ourselves, and snatch abouteight good hours of slumber."

  In a few minutes three instead of one slept, and when the first ray ofsunlight entered the room in the morning Tayoga awoke. He opened thewindow, letting the fresh air pour in, and he raised his nostrils to itlike a hound that has caught the scent. It brought to him the aromaticodors of his beloved wilderness, and, for a time, he was back in thegreat land of the Hodenosaunee among the blue lakes and the silverstreams. He had been educated in the white man's schools, and hisfriendship for Robert and Willet was strong and enduring, but his heartwas in the forest. Enlightened and humane, he had nevertheless askedseriously the night before the question: "Will Lennox kill him?" He haddiscovered something fetid in Quebec and to him de Mezy was a noxiousanimal that should be destroyed. He wished, for an instant, that he knewthe sword and that he was going to stand in Lennox's place.

  Then he woke Robert and Willet, and they dressed quickly, but by thetime they had finished Monsieur Berryer knocked on the door and toldthem breakfast was ready. The innkeeper's manner was flurried. He wasone of the _honnetes gens_ who liked peace and an upright life. He toowished the insolent pride of de Mezy to be humbled, but he had scarcelycome to the point where he wanted to see a Bostonnais do it. Nor did hebelieve that it could be done. De Mezy was a good swordsman, and hisfriends would see that he was in proper condition. Weighing the matterwell, Monsieur Berryer was, on the whole, sorry for the young stranger.

  But Robert himself showed no apprehensions. He ate his excellentbreakfast with an equally excellent appetite, and Monsieur Berryernoticed that his hand did not tremble. He observed, too, that he hadspirit enough to talk and laugh with his friends, and when Captain deGalisonniere and another young Frenchman, Lieutenant Armand Glandelet,arrived, he welcomed them warmly.

  The captain carried under his arm a long thin case, in which MonsieurBerryer knew that the swords lay. Lieutenant Armand Glandelet waspresented duly and Robert liked his appearance, his age apparentlytwenty-three or four, his complexion fair and his figure slender. Hisexperience in affairs of honor was not as great as de Galisonniere's,and he showed some excitement, but he was one of the _honnetes gens_ andhe too wished, the punishment of de Mezy. Perhaps he had suffered fromhim some insult or snub which he was not in a position to resent fully.

  "Is your wrist strong and steady and without soreness, Mr. Lennox?"asked Captain de Galisonniere.

  "It was never more flexible," replied Robert confidently. "Shall we goto the field? I should like to be there first."

  "A praiseworthy attitude," said Captain de Galisonniere. "The sun isjust rising and the light is good. Come."

  Keeping the long, thin case under his arm, he went forth, and the restfollowed. Monsieur Berryer also came at a respectful distance, andothers fell into line with him. Robert walked by the side of Willet.

  "Don't forget that low thrust," said the hunter, "and watch his eye. Youfeel no apprehensions?"

  "None at all, thanks to you. I'm quite sure I'm his master."

  "Then it's a good morning for a fight, and the setting is perfect.You'll remember this day, Robert. What a wonderful situation has theQuebec of the French that was the Stadacona of the Mohawks! A fine town,a great rock and the king of rivers! The St. Lawrence looks golden inthe early sunlight, and what a lot of it there is!"

  "Yes, it's a great stream," said Robert, looking at the golden river andthe far shores, green and high.

  "Here we are," said de Galisonniere, passing beyond some outlyinghouses. "It's a good, clear opening, pretty well surrounded by trees,with plenty of sunlight at all points, and as you wished, Mr. Lennox,we're the first to arrive."

  They stood together, talking with apparent unconcern, while the morningunfolded, and the golden sunlight over the river deepened. Although hehad been trained with the sword for years, it would be Robert's firstduel, and, while he approached it with supreme confidence, he knew thathe could find no joy in the shedding of another's blood. He felt it astrange chance that such an affair should be forced upon him, and yetthis was a dueling city. The hot young spirits of France had broughttheir customs with them into the North American wilderness, and perhapsthe unsought chance, if he used it as he thought he could, would notserve him so ill after all.

  De Mezy, with his seconds, Nemours and Le Moyne, was approaching amongthe trees. It appeared that the seconds for both had arranged everythingat a meeting the night before, and nothing was left for the twoprincipals but to fight. Robert saw at a single glance that de Mezy'shead was clear. Some of the mottled color had left his cheeks, but theeffect was an improvement, and he bore himself like a man who was strongand confident. He and his seconds wore dark blue cloaks over theiruniforms, which they laid aside when they saw that Robert and hisfriends were present.

  Nemours stepped forward and asked to speak with Captain de Galisonniere.


  "Count Jean de Mezy," he said, "is an experienced swordsman, a victor ina dozen duels, a man of great skill, and he does not wish to take anadvantage that might seem unfair to others. He considers the extremeyouth of his opponent, and if by chance his friend, Mr. Willet, shouldknow the sword, he will meet him instead."

  It was, on the whole, a handsome offer, better than they had expectedfrom de Mezy, and Galisonniere looked with inquiry, first at youngLennox and then at Willet. But Robert shook his head.

  "No," he said, "Captain de Mezy's offer does him credit, but I declineit. I am his inferior in years, but his equal in stature and strength,and I have had some experience with the sword. Mr. Willet would gladlytake my place, but I can support the combat myself."

  Nemours stepped back, and Robert resolved that de Mezy's offer shouldnot have been made wholly in vain. It would save the Frenchman some ofhis blood, but Nemours and de Galisonniere were now choosing thepositions in such a manner that neither would have the sun in his eyesbut merely his shoulder against the disc. Robert took off his coat andwaistcoat and Willet folded them over his own arm. De Mezy prepared inlike manner. Nemours gazed at young Lennox's shoulders and arms, and themuscles swelling beneath his thin shirt, and he was not quite so sure ofhis principal's victory as he had been.

  Then the two faced each other and Robert looked straight into hisopponent's eyes, reading there the proof that while outwardly de Mezymight now show no signs of dissipation, yet drink and lost hours hadstruck a blow at the vital organism of the human machine. He was moreconfident than ever, and he repeated to himself Willet's advice to becautious and slow at first.

  "Your positions, gentlemen!" said de Galisonniere, and they stood faceto face. The turf was short and firm, and the place was ideal for theirpurpose. Among the trees the eager eyes of Monsieur Berryer and a scoreof others watched.

  "Ready!" said de Galisonniere, and then, after a pause of two or threemoments, he added:

  "Proceed!"

  Robert had not looked straight into his opponent's eye so long fornothing. He knew now that de Mezy was choleric and impatient, that hewould attack at once with a vigorous arm and a furious heart, expectinga quick and easy victory. His reading of the mind through the eye wasvindicated as de Mezy immediately forced the combat, cutting andthrusting with a fire and power that would have overwhelmed an ordinaryopponent.

  Robert smiled. He knew now beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was deMezy's master. Not in vain did he have those large and powerful wrists,firm and strong as wrought steel, and not in vain had he been taught foryears by the best swordsman in America. He contented himself withparrying the savage cuts and thrusts, and gave ground slowly, retreatingin a circle. De Mezy's eyes blazed at first with triumph. He hadresented Robert's refusal of his offer to substitute Willet, and now,the victory which he had regarded as easy seemed to be even easier thanhe had hoped. He pushed the combat harder. His sword flashed in acontinuous line of light, and the whirring of steel upon steel wasunceasing. But the face of Nemours, as he watched with an understandingeye, fell a little. He saw that the breathing of young Lennox was longand regular, and that his eye was still smiling.

  Robert continued to give ground, but he never took his eye from that ofde Mezy, and at last the count began to feel that something lay behindthat calm, smiling gaze. The drink and the multitude of lost hours cameback to demand their price. Something bit into his bone. Was it physicalweakness or a sudden decay of confidence? He did not see any sign ofweariness in his young opponent, and putting forth every effort of hismuscles and every trick and device he knew he could not break throughthat shining guard of circling steel.

  The strange apprehension that had suddenly found a place in de Mezy'smind began to grow. The slow retreat of his young antagonist wasbecoming slower and then it ceased entirely. Now the leaping swordbefore him began to drive him back, and always the calm smiling eyesprobed into his, reading what he would keep hidden deep in his heart.They saw the terror that was growing there. The disbelief in hisantagonist's prowess was now fast turning into a hideous contradiction,and all the while drink and the lost hours that had clamored for theirprice were taking it.

  De Mezy began to give back. His breath grew shorter and he gasped. Thedeep mottled red returned to his cheeks, and terror took wholepossession of him. He had struck down his man before and he had laughed,but he had never faced such a swordsman as this strange youth of thewoods, with his smiling eyes and his face which was a mask despite thesmile.

  Nemours and Le Moyne turned pale. They saw that their leader had neveronce passed the bar of steel before him, and that while he panted andgrew weary Lennox seemed stronger than ever. They saw, too, that theyouth was a swordsman far surpassing de Mezy and that now he was playingwith his enemy. He struck down his opponent's guard at will, and hisblade whistled about his body and face. Nemours' hand fell to his ownhilt, but the watchful Willet saw.

  "Be careful," the hunter said in a menacing tone. "Obey the rules orI'll know the reason why."

  Nemours' hand fell away from the hilt, and he and Le Moyne exchangedglances, but stood helpless. De Mezy had been driven backward in analmost complete circle. His wrist and arm ached to the shoulder, andalways he saw before him the leaping steel and the smiling mask of aface. He caught a glimpse of the blue sky and the shining river, andthen his eyes came back to the one that held his fate. Well for de Mezythat he had made the offer that morning to substitute Willet for Lennox,since youth, with the hot blood of battle pulsing in its veins, maythink too late of mercy. But Robert remembered. His revenge was alreadycomplete. All had seen the pallid face of de Mezy, and all, whetherthey knew anything of the sword or not, knew that he lay at the mercy ofhis foe.

  "Strike and make an end!" gasped de Mezy.

  The sword flashed before his eyes again, but the blade did not touchhim. Instead his own sword was torn from his weakening grasp, and wasflung far upon the grass. Young Lennox, turning away, sheathed hisweapon.

  "Well done, Robert!" said Willet.

  De Mezy put his hand to his face, which was wet with perspiration, andsteadied himself. He had grown quite dizzy in the last few moments, andthe pulses in his head beat so heavily that he could neither see northink well. He was conscious that he stood unarmed before a victoriousfoe, but he did not know Robert had put away his sword.

  "Why don't you strike?" he muttered.

  "Mr. Lennox is satisfied," said Nemours. "He does not wish the combat togo further."

  "Unless Captain de Mezy insists on another trial," said de Galisonniere,smiling a little, "but if he will take the advice of a countryman of hishe will let the matter rest where it is. Enough has been done to satisfythe honor of everybody."

  He and Nemours exchanged significant glances. It was quite evident to deMezy's seconds that he was no match for Robert, and that another trialwould probably result in greater disaster, so Nemours and Le Moyne, inbehalf of their principal, promptly announced that they were satisfied,and de Galisonniere and Glandelet said as much for theirs. MeanwhileMonsieur Berryer and the other spectators, who had now risen to thenumber of two score, continued to watch from the shelter of the trees.They had seen the result with protruding eyes, but they had notunderstood when the young victor thrust his sword back in its sheath.They could not hear the talk, but it was quite clear that the duel wasover, and they turned away, somewhat disappointed that one of their ownhad lost the combat, but somewhat pleased, too, that he had not lost hisown life at the same time.

  "Shake hands, gentlemen," said de Galisonniere blithely. "Although noblood was shed it was a hot battle and I hope when you two meet again itwill be in friendship and not in enmity. You are a fine swordsman,Lennox, and it was honorable of you, de Mezy, when you didn't know hiscaliber, to offer to take on, because of his youth, the older man, Mr.Willet."

  Robert came back and offered his hand frankly. De Mezy, whose head wasstill ringing from his uncommon exertions and chagrin, took it. It wasbitter to have lost, but he still lived. In a manne
r as he saw it, hehad been disgraced, but time and the red wine and the white would takeaway the sting. He still lived. That was the grand and beautiful fact.Many more joyous days and nights awaited him in the company of Bigot andCadet and Pean, powerful men who knew how to exercise their power andhow to live at the same time. He should be grateful for a little while,at least, to the young Bostonnais, and he shook the proffered hand asheartily as his own damp, limp fingers would admit.

  "May your stay in Quebec be as pleasant as you wish," he said, a bitthickly.

  "Thanks," said Robert, who read the man's mind thoroughly.

  De Galisonniere put away the unstained swords, quite satisfied with theaffair, himself and everybody. An important follower of Bigot had beenhumbled, and yet he had not suffered in such a manner that he could callfor the punishment of the one who had humbled him. The very youth of theBostonnais would disarm resentment against him.

  De Mezy's party with formal bows drew away, and Robert and his friendsreturned to the Inn of the Eagle.