As it happened, the snow did not lie very heavily at this particular place, and the great creature was able to move with tremendous speed.
"Look out, Raoul!" shouted La Tour, as he darted aside to evade the moose's onset. "Get behind a tree, and then fire at him."
This was precisely what Raoul had in mind to do, and he made a gallant effort to accomplish it, but unfortunately in his haste he caught his snow-shoes together, and over he went headlong into the snow with such violence as to nearly bury himself.
Confused by the fall, and blinded by the snow, he lay there helplessly, while the bull moose, infuriated by its wound, and seeing only the prostrate boy to account for it, bore down upon him with murderous intent.
He fully realized his danger, and yet felt powerless to avert it, for to regain one's feet after a tumble with snow-shoes on is no easy matter.
In the meantime La Tour had rushed out from behind the tree, and by waving his arms and shouting, strove to attract the attention of the animal to himself until Raoul should have time to get upon his feet again, and find a place of safety.
But the moose was not to be thus diverted from its victim, and kept on until it was within ten yards of Raoul, whose fate now seemed to be sealed.
La Tour, quite forgetting himself in his anxiety for the boy, made a desperate effort to get in between him and the animal, and groaned aloud as he saw that it could not avail.
Then, suddenly, Raoul raised himself upon his knees, and pointing his gun at the moose's head, pulled the trigger.
At the report the big brute pitched forward upon its antlers, almost turning a somersault, and La Tour with an exclamation of joy ran to Raoul, and lifting him up clasped him to his breast, crying:
"Bravo! my nephew, bravo! That was a splendid shot. I never thought you could do it."
But hardly had the words left his lips than his exultation changed to alarm, for the moose, which had been only stunned by the bullet, and not mortally wounded, rose to its feet again to renew the charge.
Happily the shock of the bullet had bewildered it so that it went off at a tangent, and ere it could recover itself La Tour had hurried Raoul to safe shelter behind a mighty tree.
Hastily reloading his gun, an action which Raoul lost no time in imitating, La Tour watched his chance to give the great animal a final shot.
After plunging about for a little it once more located its assailants, and, looking very terrible in its rage, made another furious rush at them.
This they both evaded without difficulty, and then La Tour got the opportunity he sought, and sent a bullet into the heart of the mighty creature, which brought its career to a sudden end.
"Phew!" he exclaimed in a tone of profound relief, as he took off his fur cap and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. "That was lively work, wasn't it, Raoul? What a grand fight the old fellow did make! He pretty nearly had you under his hoofs. You managed to fire in the nick of time. That was a clever shot, my boy, and I am proud of you for it."
Raoul flushed with pleasure at his uncle's praise, which he appreciated all the more because La Tour was far more prone to find fault than to express approval.
"I thought it was all over with me, Uncle Charles," he said, "for the snow had got into my eyes so that I could not see properly, but I did the best I could."
"And a very good best it was, my boy. No man could have done better. You'll make a fine hunter when you're full grown. Ah, ha! here come some of the men. I wonder what fortune they have had."
Attracted by the sound of the firing, the rest of the hunting party had hurried to the scene, and La Tour was in his element as he proudly displayed the fallen monarch.
"Raoul and I are partners in him," he said laughingly. "Raoul hit him in the head, and I hit him in the heart, but he came within an ace of finishing Raoul first." And he then proceeded to relate what had happened.
Raoul was warmly congratulated upon his lucky escape, and upon the excellence of his marksmanship, and everybody rejoiced over the splendid prize which had been secured, for the moose was in superb condition, and would supply them with savoury steaks and roasts for many days.
After what had occurred at the moose hunt, it was evident that his uncle regarded Raoul in a different light. He dropped his bantering tone toward him, and treated him more on an equal footing, and Raoul fully appreciated the change.
During the remainder of their trip they were favoured with such good fortune—the game proving plentiful all along the route, and the Indians whose villages they visited being so well supplied with furs and so eager to trade—that La Tour, in high good humour, told Raoul he brought him good luck, and must accompany him again.
The whole party got back to Fort St. Louis without a mishap, and then everybody settled down for the winter, as there were to be no more trading expeditions.
But Madame La Tour did not suspend her missionary work because it was winter time. As soon as her husband had returned and relieved her of the charge of the fort, she resumed her visits to the Indian encampments. This was the best season for what she sought to accomplish, because the men were about the wigwams most of the time, and she could get a hearing from them as well as from the women and children.
Raoul usually went with her. He liked the idea of being in some sense her protector, and she was always such good company that the hours never seemed long that were spent in her society.
He always carried his gun, not that there was anything to fear from the Indians. They were altogether to be trusted. But some wild animal might be encountered that would venture to attack, or that might be worth having a shot at, any way.
Right glad he was that he did have his gun one afternoon when he and his aunt were returning from a day spent at the Souriquois village, where the good woman had been teaching the squaws, not only how to be Christians, but also how to be better wives and mothers.
They were walking rapidly, and talking busily, when a horrible scream that sent a chill of terror to their hearts, and caused them to stop suddenly in the path, issued from the thick woods in front of them.
A stranger would have been at a loss to guess what sort of creature could produce so frightful a sound, but Madame La Tour recognized it at once, and she perceptibly shrank closer to Raoul as she said in a startled voice:
"It is a loup cervier, Raoul, and right in our way!"
Raoul knew the scream also, and something about the animal from whence it came, and he first looked carefully at his gun to make sure that it was ready for instant use, and then peered into the obscurity of the thick evergreens, in the attempt to locate the fierce brute which had thus challenged their passing.
What Madame meant by loup cervier was what is now known as the "Indian Devil," or catamount, a species of puma that could be very dangerous when in a fighting humour, as this one evidently was.
"Don't be frightened, Aunt Constance," said Raoul sturdily. "I'll shoot him dead the moment I see him," and he brought his gun to his shoulder as he spoke.
"Wait, wait until you can see him plainly," said Madame under her breath. "You must not miss."
There was a rustling among the branches, another blood-curdling scream, and then the hideous face of the creature appeared, its eyes flaming with fury, and its cruel teeth showing white among the rigid bristles that protruded from its furry cheeks.
Now if Raoul had been alone, he would assuredly have been nervous enough to make it a difficult matter to take good aim, but the presence of his aunt made him forget himself utterly in his loyal determination to protect her from the impending peril. He felt as firm as a rock. Not a nerve quivered, and, aiming straight between the baleful eyes, he fired.
The report rang out on the still evening air, and was instantly followed by a snarling shriek from the wounded animal, so charged with fury that Raoul instinctively pressed his aunt back out of the path.
Just as he did so the puma sprang at them, for it was not killed, a slight movement of its head as Raoul fired having caused the bullet to strike too high, and plough through the fur on the forehead, instead of burying itself in the brain.
Raoul's sudden movement caused the brute to fall short, and ere it could gather itself to spring again the boy, clubbing his gun, struck at it with the heavy butt.
It was the best thing to be done under the circumstances, and yet, when the maddened catamount, squirming around as if it were made of rubber, caught the stock in its teeth, and tore at the gun with its terrible claws, there seemed small chance of Raoul being able to repeat the blow.
Happily this was not necessary on his part, for Madame, who had been perfectly composed throughout, having picked up a stout stick, came to his assistance, and, with a clever blow delivered just behind the puma's ear, put an end to its existence.
"Bravo, Aunt Constance!" cried Raoul delightedly. "You've done for him, and just in time, too! He was pulling the gun out of my hands."
There was the light of triumph in Madame la Tour's fine eyes as she turned the dead thing over with her stick.
"He meant us mischief, Raoul," she said, "and he has paid dearly for it. If he had left us alone he would not be lying there now. Let us kneel down and thank God for our deliverance."
And so they knelt together, while Madame, in a few fervent sentences, expressed their gratitude to Providence for having thus protected them from injury.
As they hastened homeward, Madame said in a low tone, as if talking to herself rather than to Raoul:
"This is a wild, dangerous country, and I grow very weary of it. I pray that I may be spared to get back to France some day."
Raoul heard these words with some surprise. His aunt always seemed so busy and content in the doing of her duty, that he did not suppose she was not as happy as he was himself, but his quick sympathy inspired him to ask:
"Shall we be going back to France some day, Aunt Constance?"
"Only God knows that, my dear," was the reply. "I'm sure I cannot tell. We are in the hands of Providence, and whatever comes to pass will be the best."
Raoul said no more at the time, but thenceforward his admiration for his aunt was deepened by the knowledge that she would really prefer being across the ocean, although she always seemed so serene and satisfied with her lot in Acadia.
Monsieur La Tour was much interested in the account of the encounter with the catamount.
"You deserve credit, both of you," he said warmly. "As for you, my dear wife," he added, with an unusually loving look, "there seems to be no limit to your talents. You can preach, teach, hunt, fish, and look after the affairs of your own household better than any woman I ever knew. How fortunate I was to get such a wife! Eh, Raoul?"
Madame's noble countenance was flooded with colour by her husband's frank praise, which made her heart sing for joy, and going up to him, she threw her arms about his neck and kissed his bronzed cheek, saying:
"Thank you, my dear Charles, for your kind words, which I am sure are not empty ones."
With the return of spring, La Tour, whose enterprise and energy knew no bounds, unfolded a new plan he had formed for the extension of his power and the increase of his fortune.
This was the building of still another fort, and the site he had selected was the mouth of what is now the St. John River, in the province of New Brunswick, then known by the musical Indian name of Ouangondy.
This place had many advantages over Fort St. Louis. The river went far inland, and was the highway for many Indian tribes who had precious pelts to barter. Not only so, but the whole New England coast could be conveniently reached by canoe, or sailing shallop, and again, the lay of the land was such that an exceedingly strong position could be easily had.
Throughout the summer the building went on, and ere autumn came again the new fort, which La Tour modestly called after himself, was completed. It stood upon a rise of ground commanding the harbour and the sharp turn made by the river on entering, about half-a-mile below, the famous falls, which then as now worked both ways, pouring up river when the tide was high and down river when it was low.
Fort La Tour was solidly built of stone, and stood nearly two hundred feet square, with four bastions at the angles, and twenty good cannon frowning from the battlements. Without were sturdy palisades as a further protection, and within, two comfortable dwellings, a tiny chapel, and the necessary storehouses, barracks for the garrison, and other buildings.
Such was Raoul's new home, and he heartily approved of the change, because the country round about Fort La Tour was far richer and finer than that about Fort St. Louis, and the beautiful river held out promise of many a pleasant canoe trip, when the warm days of summer returned.
As for Madame La Tour, she felt sorry to leave her dusky charges when they seemed to promise such good results, but she consoled herself with the thought that there were plenty of others equally needing the light, and that she could continue her good work from the new fort.
Hitherto all had gone so well with Charles La Tour that he could hardly be blamed if he came to look upon himself as a favoured child of fortune. He had had the whole of Acadia to himself, so to speak, and what with fishing, fur-trading, and farming, had greatly increased his substance.
But now rumours of a rival came to disturb his peace. Another Charles, who was generally known as Charnace, had obtained from the French King certain grants and privileges in Acadia, and, wrath at finding La Tour already monopolizing the country, he let it be known that he proposed to contest the field with him by force of arms.
He chose his time well for the attack upon Fort La Tour, coming when the stock of provisions were lowest, the garrison smallest, and those whose support could be counted upon were most widely scattered, and he brought with him a strong force of soldiers in his four staunch vessels.
Stationing his two ships and the galiot so that they blockaded the ship channels, and the pinnace to the north-east of Partridge Island, he landed several hundred men so as to control the surrounding country, and then settled down for a siege, feeling quite confident that the capitulation of the fort was only a question of time.
In the meantime the commander of Fort La Tour had not been idle, although the coming of Charnace had been like a bolt out of the blue, for he did not expect to see anything of him that year. He lost no time in making preparations for a determined defence, in which his stout-hearted wife gave him efficient help. By means of spies, he got full information as to his enemy's purpose, and laughed grimly at the latter's threats.
"And so he has vowed that he will send me back to France in manacles, has he? Well, words are cheap. It is easy to indulge in big talk, but not always so easy to put it into deeds. We shall see how Monsieur Charnace will keep his word."
Raoul was not at all dismayed at being besieged. On the contrary, he was pleased by the prospect of exciting times, and promised himself to take as active a part in the defence as his uncle would permit.
"What right has Charnace coming here to attack us?" he asked with fine indignation at the insolence of the intruder. "We were here first, and he has no business interfering. We must give him such a beating that he will not dare to come near us again."
Keeping his ships well out of range of the cannon at the fort, and his men safely disposed in the protection of the woods, Charnace sought to cut off all supplies by sea or land, and thus let slow starvation win the day for him. Now La Tour was just then eagerly expecting the arrival from La Rochelle of the armed ship Clement with a full cargo of supplies of all sorts, and a goodly number of soldiers and colonists. In fact, the vessel was overdue, and if she should come up the bay without warning, she would assuredly be captured by Charnace's ships, which would have no difficulty in overpowering her.
"We must stop her before she comes too far," he said, "and yet I hardly know how it is to be managed. Charnace's spies and scouts are all around us. Have you any notion how it can be managed, Constance?" And, as was usually the case when in perplexity, he turned for counsel to the shrewd woman who was so peculiarly his helpmate.
"Let us send for Joe Takouchen," was her reply. "He may think of a way."
Accordingly Joe was sent for, and promptly appeared, his usually impassive countenance betraying curiosity as to the reason for the summons.
Joe was a splendid specimen of the Souriquois, who worshipped Madame La Tour as though she were divine. She had been particularly kind both to himself and his family, and he was ready to risk his life for her on any occasion. The situation was explained to Joe, while he listened in silence, but with a comprehending expression. Then, nodding his head sagely, he said:
"Joe will take the message to the ship. He will go to-night."
"And how will you manage it, Joe?" asked La Tour.
Joe smiled significantly, and explained that his plan was to steal out of the fort at night, make his way to the headlands south-west, and thence put off in a canoe, as soon as the supply ship came in sight. La Tour's face lit up at the proposition.
"It's a big risk, Joe, but if any man alive can carry the thing out it is you. Whom will you take with you?"
Joe replied that Jean Pitchebat, a stalwart Frenchman, who was his special friend, would be his choice, and La Tour approved.
Raoul, who had been a silent listener hitherto, now spoke up.
"May I go with Joe too, Uncle Charles?" he asked, in a tone whose anxiety showed how fully he was in earnest.
La Tour looked at the boy with such manifest surprise that the latter flushed hotly. Yet, being full of his desire, he turned to Joe and said entreatingly:
"You will not mind taking me, will you?"
Joe glanced inquiringly at his master and mistress. He was very fond of Raoul, and had no objection to taking him along, but he felt that the matter was not one for him to settle. La Tour had it on the tip of his tongue to brusquely refuse Raoul's request, but the expression on his wife's face made him pause, and before he spoke, she said in her gentle way:
"You might let him go, Charles. He will be in God's hands. There is danger everywhere now, and his heart is set upon going."
"Oh, very well, then, so long as Joe is willing. What do you say, Joe?" and La Tour turned to the taciturn Indian.
"Joe say all right," was the laconic response, at which Raoul clapped his hands gleefully.
They set off the same night. Fortunately it was both dark and windy, so that there was all the less danger of their movements being seen or heard. But they must needs exercise the utmost caution, for Charnace had many Indians in his service, and they would no doubt be acting as scouts and sentinels in the neighbourhood of the fort.
Joe led the way with amazing dexterity, stepping over the ground as silently as a serpent, and the other two followed, doing their best to imitate him. Several times he stopped short, peered eagerly into the darkness, listened intently for a moment, and then, muttering something which Raoul could not catch, changed his course to right or left.
Once the sound of voices came out of the night to them, and Raoul's heart throbbed wildly. He was not so much afraid of being captured as he was that they should be balked in their purpose, and that the supply ship, coming up without warning, would fall into Charnace's hands. They were evidently passing through the line of their enemy's sentinels, and in peril of being betrayed by the slightest sound. Very cautiously did Joe make his way, now turning this way and now that, while Raoul and Jean kept so close that they could almost touch him. It was trying work, that told upon muscles and nerve, yet Raoul held his own with the men all right, and certainly moved as silently as Jean, even if he could not quite equal Joe.
At last they seemed to be getting well away from the fort, and into safer ground, when suddenly a dark form rose in front of them.
Joe crouched low, preparing for a spring. Jean and Raoul did likewise, and not one of them breathed.
"Who goes there?" demanded a rough, stern voice, but the next instant it was silenced, for Joe, throwing himself upon the speaker with a leap like that of a panther, brought him to the ground with his hands at his throat.
But the man lay so motionless in his grip that there was no need to take his life. In falling backward, his head had struck a stone, and he was senseless. As soon as Joe realized this he let go of him, and whispering to his companions:
"Quick—quick—run!" he darted off with them at his heels.
Not trying to pick their steps, they plunged through the darkness as fast as they could, slipping, stumbling, tripping, yet keeping on desperately, for they knew not if the whole camp might not presently be upon their heels.
There was a stir among Charnace's sentinels and a calling to one another, but none of them knew in which direction the fugitives had gone, and after some aimless scurrying about they gave up all idea of pursuit, and settled down to quiet again.
Meanwhile, the three had continued their wild flight until their breath was spent, and then they threw themselves down to recover it.
"All right now," said Joe, nodding complacently. "We see no more of them," and he was quite correct. They were now beyond Charnace's lines, and could pursue their way in a more leisurely fashion. The break of day found them far down the shore and drawing near an encampment of friendly Indians. From these Joe had no difficulty in obtaining a good canoe, and a supply of provisions, and by noon they were out on the Bay of Fundy, watching for the Clement.
The weather was fine, and Raoul keenly enjoyed dancing over the white-capped waves in their buoyant craft, which Joe and Jean managed with such matchless skill. They did not expect him to paddle, and so he stretched himself out in the bottom of the canoe and took his ease, the excitement and exertion of the past night having pretty thoroughly tired him.
For some hours no sign of the ship appeared, and then, as the afternoon drew towards its close, Joe's keen eyes descried a sail showing above the horizon to the southward.
"Good!" he grunted, and with a sweep of his paddle he turned the canoe in that direction.
"You paddle now," he said to Raoul, and the latter obeyed. Propelled by the three blades, into which the paddlers put their strength, the light craft bounded over the water towards the ship.
"Oh! I hope it is the Clement" said Raoul. "We shall be just in good time."
Mile after mile they swept along, until Raoul's arms began to ache, and his breath to become scant, but Joe and Jean were pegging away as vigorously as at first, and he hated to give up. They were nearing the ship rapidly, and ere long would be close enough to hail her, when, to their surprise, she came about, and went off on another tack, leaving them rapidly astern.
"Hullo!" exclaimed Raoul in a tone of consternation. "What did she do that for? We shall soon be farther away from her than we were at first."
Joe stopped paddling for a moment, and looked very cross. Then, rising to his full height, he swung the paddle above his head, hoping to attract the attention of some one on board the vessel. But it had no effect. The ship continued in her course, and, there being plenty of wind, her speed was so great as to make it useless for the canoe to follow her.
The occupants of the canoe looked blankly at each other. Even the usually impassive Joe did not disguise his chagrin, while Jean sought relief for his feelings in some strong language that would have brought upon him a reproof from Madame La Tour had she been present. The sun had already set. Night was drawing near, and unless they reached the ship before darkness fell they might miss her altogether, and she would go on to become a prize for the waiting Charnace. Raoul clearly realized their critical position, and while Joe and Jean discussed what should be done, he lifted up his heart in earnest prayer that God would guide them to the ship even through the darkness.
Rested by their brief halt, the paddlers resumed work, steering the canoe straight up the Bay, so as if possible to intercept the vessel in her next tack. Meanwhile the daylight faded out of the sky, the wind dropped, and the water became perfectly calm. In almost complete silence the canoe glided steadily forward, Raoul, who had paddled until he was tired, once more taking it easy in the bottom.
Suddenly there came through the gloom the sound of a man's voice giving a command, and it made the hearts of those in the canoe leap for joy. Joe and Jean had been paddling listlessly, but now they went to work with fresh energy. Their light craft shot over the smooth water in the direction of the voice, and, a few minutes later, the dark bulk of the ship they sought loomed up before them.
Jean promptly hailed her, and was bidden to come alongside. A rope was thrown, whereby all three clambered up, and the next instant stood on the deck of the Clement. Very hearty was their welcome here. The Captain of the good ship felt deeply grateful for the timely warning, and offered his wearied and hungry visitors the best at his disposal, while the colonists and others crowded about, eager to be told about La Tour and his forts, and how things were going in the new world to which they had come. Raoul was pleased to find himself a person of some importance, and his tongue wagged merrily as he answered the many questions poured upon him, or in his turn made inquiries on his own account. Ere he lay down that night in the Captain's cabin, he did not forget to thank God for having answered his prayer by guiding the canoe into the way of the Clement.
After consulting with Joe and Jean, the Captain of the Clement decided that the best plan would be for him to keep the ship off for the present, as it was not likely Charnace would break his blockade of Fort La Tour to go after her, and, even if he did, she could easily over-match any one of his vessels, and sail away from any of them.
In the meantime, Joe and Jean would make their way back to the fort, leaving Raoul on board. This arrangement was carried out successfully. The messengers again passed through Charnace's lines and brought their good news to La Tour, who at once decided that the best thing to be done was for him to get on board the Clement and sail on her for Boston, to obtain reinforcements against the enemy. So, on a dark, still night a canoe, containing both Monsieur and Madame, glided unseen past the blockading vessels, La Tour smiling grimly, and Constance giving a shudder as they heard Charnace's own voice saying:
"The spy who just came from the fort says that his comrades will send down La Tour in shackles at midnight," little knowing that the rascally conspirators had been discovered, and were themselves now lying in irons in the dungeon of the fort.
The Clement was found and boarded without much difficulty, and at daybreak she was on her way to Boston, bearing the La Tours and Raoul.
They were well received at the quaint capital of the New England Province, and, after a good deal of negotiation, for the shrewd colonists knew how to drive good bargains, La Tour succeeded in arranging for four ships, carrying nearly two score guns, and one hundred and fifty men. With this force he felt quite equal to getting the better of his rival, and set sail from Boston in high spirits. For six weeks Fort La Tour had been silent as a tomb, the besiegers, who were quite unaware of the La Tours having slipped away, trusting to starvation to do their work for them, while the garrison, looking forward to their commander's return in force, made no attempt at sorties, but got along, as best they could, on the scanty rations left them. They kept a sharp and steady look-out, however, and one day their eyes were gladdened by the sight of many sails in the offing.
"La Tour! La Tour!" they cried joyously, and at once proceeded to welcome him with a salute in which every cannon on the ramparts had a part. La Tour did his best to capture some of Charnace's vessels, but both wind and tide favoured their escape, although he chased them as far as the Penobscot. There was great rejoicing at the fort, and feasting followed famine for the remainder of the week.
"Will Monsieur Charnace come back again, do you think?" Raoul asked of his aunt as they sat in her room, having grown weary of the revelling.
"I am afraid so," she answered with a sigh. "He is a proud, determined man, and this defeat will only cause him to try again with a stronger force. I fear there is trouble in store for us."
"But why can't he leave us alone?" Raoul cried petulantly. "We have never made any attack upon him."
"Because this world, big as it may seem, Raoul, is all too small for such men as your uncle and Charnace," Madame replied. "They cannot brook a rival, and they must needs fight until one or the other is overthrown," and she sighed again deeply, for her gentle heart shrank from conflict, and she infinitely preferred teaching religion to the Indians, to all her husband's grand plans for wealth and power.
Foiled in his first attempt, but not shaken in his purpose, Charnace went off across the ocean to France to see if something could not be done there to humble his rival, and La Tour was left to pursue his way in peace.
Raoul now took an active part in what went on, and led quite a busy life. He accompanied his uncle in his trips up the River St. John, where they met with Indians from the interior, who brought rich furs to barter for goods. Twice he crossed over to Fort St. Louis, and each time congratulated himself on the move to Fort La Tour; and what pleased him most of all, he was allowed to go on one of the ships to Boston, for he had very pleasant recollections of his first visit there. His visit was made memorable by an experience which was certainly of too exciting a nature to be soon forgotten. Having a leisure afternoon, he went off alone for a stroll along the river-bank, where he felt sure he would find something to interest him. And in this he was not disappointed.
He had gone about half-a-mile from the town when, seeing a group of boys evidently much interested in something, he hurried towards them. To his surprise he saw that they were making sport of a strange-looking lad of about his own age, who seemed to be only half-witted. They wanted him to go into the water, but he held back in a terror-stricken way that ought to have caused them to desist, but only served to spur them on. Just as Raoul reached them, they had dragged the poor fellow to the edge of a little point below which the water was fairly deep, and, crying out: "Give him a dip; he needs a good wash!" were about to shove him over the edge, when Raoul, stirred to such indignation that he quite forgot that he stood alone against half-a-dozen, called out:
"Shame! Shame! Let the poor fellow be! Why do you torment him so?" and springing into their midst, he tore them away from their victim, and set him free.
So sudden was his onset—for the boys, being intent upon their fun, had not noticed his approach—that they were completely taken aback, and the idiot boy, finding himself free, had sufficient sense to make a break, whereby he got out of their reach ere they recovered from their surprise. Then they turned upon Raoul, and with coarse oaths demanded who he was, and what business he had interfering with them. Raoul realized that he was in a pretty tight place, and had no idea just how he was to get out of it, but he put on a bold front and replied:
"It's no matter who I am. You had no right to be tormenting that poor chap."
"Oh, ho! he's a Frenchie. Let us put him in instead," was the cry raised, and at once they threw themselves upon Raoul.
There were none of them larger than he, but they were six to one, and, although he fought splendidly, they were not long in bringing him to the ground. Seizing him roughly by the arms and legs they bore him to the edge of the bank, and in another instant they would have pitched him over, when a commanding voice shouted:
"Stop! Let that boy alone!" and again the young rowdies were checked in their rough sport. This time the interposition came from no less important a personage than Governor Winthrop himself, who, chancing to take his afternoon constitutional in that direction, had observed the disturbance, and hurried up to ascertain its meaning. He carried a stout cane, and followed up his command by laying it upon the backs of the boys nearest him with such good effect that they dashed off howling, and in a moment Raoul was left free to pick himself up and arrange his disordered dress.
"Pray, sir, what were they doing to you?" inquired Governor Winthrop with grave concern.
"They were trying to throw me into the river," responded Raoul, "and but for you, sir, they would have done it." And then he went on to explain what had taken place, while the Governor listened with an approving smile; and when he had finished, he placed his hand upon Raoul's shoulder, saying:
"You have borne yourself nobly, my son, and I feel ashamed that the children of our own townspeople should behave in so unseemly a fashion. And now tell me who are you and whence you come, for you are assuredly a stranger here."
When he learned that Raoul was the nephew of Charles La Tour, Lieutenant-General of Acadia, his interest manifestly deepened.
"Indeed, indeed," he said. "I know your worthy uncle well, and hold him in high esteem. You must come and sup with me, and I shall see that you return to your ship in due time."
Raoul was only too glad to accept such an attractive invitation, and so the close of this eventful day found him the guest of the Governor, and keenly relishing the excellent fare that his table afforded.
Madame La Tour greatly enjoyed Raoul's relation of his Boston experience.
"You see, virtue is not always merely its own reward," she said, smiling proudly upon her nephew. "It is sometimes well rewarded in other ways. Be ever ready to champion the weak and the innocent, Raoul. They are God's children, and you are doing His work when you take their part against the wicked and cruel people, of which, alas! there seems to be too many in this world."
The summer passed into autumn, and the autumn into winter, without bringing anything of special moment into the lives of those at Fort La Tour, save somewhat disquieting rumours of the intentions of Charnace.
It was said that he had gone to France to obtain the revocation of La Tour's commission as Lieutenant-General of Acadia, and authority to take him prisoner, and send him back to be imprisoned in the Bastile.
Now Charnace was known to have great influence at Court, and in those days, when the French kings so lightly valued their possessions in America, and did pretty much what those who had most influence over them advised, there was no telling how far Charnace might succeed in his hostile plans.
Accordingly La Tour set himself to prepare for the danger then threatening him, while his good wife prayed that, in some way, further conflict might be averted.
With the coming of spring, the news was confirmed by the appearance of Charnace in the ship St. Francis and his sending a messenger to demand La Tour's surrender.
To this La Tour defiantly replied that he would not give up either himself or his fort, so long as he had a pound of powder left; and Charnace, not being ready for an attack just then, withdrew to the Penobscot, where he had a fort of his own, to prepare for another siege.
Great was the concern now at Fort La Tour, whose commander bestirred himself in every way to meet the crisis. Unfortunately, circumstances were not in his favour. His trading had not prospered of late, and he had been compelled to mortgage his fort and all his real and personal property to a merchant in Boston as security for a large loan, in order to meet the demands upon him, and now he required a larger supply of ammunition, and, if possible, some more men. In this emergency he decided to make a flying trip to Boston in quest of both, trusting to get back ere Charnace reappeared.
Ere he left he called his wife, Raoul, Joe Takouchen, and Jean Pitchebat to him, and explained his purpose.
"I know it's a risk," he said, "but there seems no help for it. Without powder we cannot hold the fort, but with a good supply of it we can beat off this villain Charnace. Constance, I leave you in command. You, Raoul, will be her lieutenant, and you, Joe and Jean, her right-hand men. I know that I can trust you all to the uttermost." And, having thus spoken, he was about to dismiss them, when Madame, whose beautiful countenance had of late worn an anxious expression, for she fully realized the danger, said softly—
"Charles, let us kneel down and ask for God's protection from the enemy, for without His blessing your best plans will be of no avail."
So they all knelt, while Madame prayed with profound fervour for divine help, and, when they rose, her face had regained its wonted serenity.
Raoul felt quite flattered at being joined with his aunt in the charge of the fort. It seemed, in some sort, a recognition of his being more than a boy, and he vowed in his heart that he would show himself worthy of the confidence reposed in him.
Followed by his wife's prayers, and the anxious thoughts of the garrison, La Tour set sail for Boston.
He had not been gone long before a startling discovery was made by Raoul. Although the majority of those connected with the fort were Huguenots, the remainder were Catholics, and for their benefit La Tour tolerated the presence of two Jesuit priests named Miraband and Oriani.
Towards these men Raoul held feelings of cordial dislike. They had done their best to change his faith, using in vain the sly and subtle methods for which their Order has ever been notorious, but, instead of winning him over they had only aroused his antagonism.
Now it chanced that Raoul had been out shooting in the afternoon, and was returning to the fort, when, being weary, he sat down in a snug nook near the Falls to rest, and, before he knew it, was asleep.
Presently he was awakened by the sound of voices engaged in earnest talk, and, peeping through the thick foliage which hid him completely, he saw Miraband and Oriani.
Suspecting that this secret meeting meant some mischief, he felt no scruples about playing the part of listener.
The first few words confirmed his suspicions, and as they went on, his heart grew hot with indignation and wrath, for it became clear to him that these men, who had been so well treated at Fort La Tour, were in reality Charnace's spies, and had been keeping him informed of all that took place.
"The villains!" muttered Raoul under his breath. "They deserve to be hung, even if they are priests. I must let Aunt Constance know at once."
He did not stir until the two wicked plotters had finished their conference and gone off, and then he made all haste to the fort.
Madame La Tour was not entirely taken by surprise at his information. She herself had mistrusted these Jesuits, and had even warned her husband against them, but he had laughed the matter off, saying she was mistaken.
Now, she sent for her trusty Joe and Jean, to whom Raoul re-told his story.
They were mightily enraged at this treachery, and cried out for the hanging of the spies in the gate of the castle; and had La Tour himself been present, this would undoubtedly have been done, despite their sacred calling, which they had so dishonoured.
But Madame was too tender of heart to take such extreme measures. Good reason as she had to hate the whole Jesuit body, apart from the villainy of these two members of it, she shrank from following the advice of her counsellors, and to their frankly-expressed disgust did no more than to summon Miraband and Oriani before her, upbraid them with their treachery, adding some bitter words as to their being wolves in sheep's clothing, and then ordered them to be set adrift in a light canoe.
"Betake yourselves to your employer," she said with withering scorn, presenting a splendid picture of righteous indignation, as she towered above the cowering priests. "He is fit company for you. You have no right amongst honest men."
Raoul saw them into the canoe. He heartily agreed with Joe and Jean that the punishment was altogether inadequate, but he was too loyal to his aunt not to carry out her bidding; and as the Jesuits, who had wisely kept silence through it all, paddled off, he called after them:
"You've got off with your lives this time. But if my uncle ever catches you, it will be different."