CHAPTER X.

Before noon on the following day, the boat that was to

convey Major Montgomerie and his niece to the American

shore, pulled up to the landing place in front of the

fort. The weather, as on the preceding day, was fine,

and the river exhibited the same placidity of surface.

Numerous bodies of Indians were collected on the banks,

pointing to, and remarking on the singularity of the

white flag which hung drooping at the stern of the boat.

Presently the prisoners were seen advancing to the bank,

accompanied by General Brock, Commodore Barclay, and the

principal officers of the garrison. Major Montgomerie

appeared pleased at the prospect of the liberty that

awaited him, while the countenance of his niece, on the

contrary, presented an expression of deep thought, although

it was afterwards remarked by Granville and Villiers--

both close observers of her demeanour that as her eye

occasionally glanced in the direction of Detroit, it

lighted up with an animation strongly in contrast with

the general calm and abstractedness of her manner. All

being now ready, Gerald Grantham, who had received his

final instructions from the General, offered his arm to

Miss Montgomerie, who, to all outward appearance, took

it mechanically and unconsciously, although, in the

animated look which the young sailor turned upon her in

the next instant, there was evidence the contact had

thrilled electrically to his heart. After exchanging a

cordial pressure of the hand with his gallant entertainers,

and reiterating to the General his thanks for the especial

favor conferred upon him, the venerable Major followed

them to the boat. His departure was the signal for much

commotion among the Indians. Hitherto they had had no

idea of what was in contemplation; but when they saw them

enter and take their seats in the boat, they raised one

of those terrific shouts which have so often struck terror

and dismay, and brandishing their weapons seemed ready

to testify their disapprobation by something more than

words. It was however momentary--a commanding voice made

itself heard, even amid the din of their loud yell, and,

when silence had been obtained, a few animated sentences,

uttered in a tone of deep authority, caused the tumult

at once to subside. The voice was that of Tecumseh, and

there were few among his race who, brave and indomitable

as they were, could find courage to thwart his will.

Meanwhile the boat, impelled by eight active seamen,

urged its way through the silvery current, and in less

than an hour from its departure had disappeared.

Two hours had elapsed--the General and superior officers

had retired; and the Indians, few by few had repaired to

their several encampments, except a party of young

warriors, who, wrapped in their blankets and mantles,

lay indolently extended on the grass, smoking their pipes,

or producing wild sounds from their melancholy flutes.

Not far from these, sat, with their legs overhanging the

edge of the steep bank, a group of the junior officers

of the garrison, who, with that indifference which

characterized their years, were occupied in casting

pebbles into the river, and watching the bubbles that

arose to the surface. Among the number was Henry Grantham,

and, at a short distance from him, sat the old but athletic

negro, Sambo, who, not having been required to accompany

Gerald, to whom he was especially attached, had continued

to linger on the bank long after his anxious eye had lost

sight of the boat in which the latter had departed. While

thus engaged, a new direction was given to the interest

of all parties, by a peculiar cry, which reached them

from a distance over the water, apparently from beyond

the near extremity of the Island of Bois Blanc. To the

officers the sound was unintelligible, for it was the

first of the kind they had ever heard, but the young

Indians appeared fully to understand its import. Starting

from their lethargy, they sprang abruptly to their feet,

and giving a sharp answering yell, stamped upon the green

turf, and snuffed the hot air, with distended nostrils,

like so many wild horses let loose upon the desert. Nor

was the excitement confined to these, for, all along the

line of encampment, the same wild notes were echoed, and

forms came bounding again to the front, until the bank

was once more peopled with savages.

"What was the meaning of that cry, Sambo, and whence came

it?" asked Henry Grantham, who, as well as his companions,

had strained their eyes in every direction, but in vain,

to discover its cause.

"Dat a calp cry, Massa Henry--see he dere a canoe not

bigger nor a hick'ry nut," and he pointed with his finger

to what in fact had the appearance of being little larger;

"I wish," he pursued with bitterness, "dey bring him calp

of dem billians Desborough--Dam him lying tief to hell."

"Bravo!" exclaimed De Courcy, who, in common with his

companions, recollecting Gerald's story of the preceding

day, was at no loss to understand why the latter epithet

had been so emphatically bestowed; "I see (winking to

Henry Grantham) you have not yet forgiven his paddling

round the gun boat the other night, while you and the

rest of the crew were asleep, eh, Sambo?

"So help me hebben, Obbicer, he no sail around a gun

boat, he dam a Yankee. He come along a lake like a dam

tief in e night and I tell a Massa Geral--and Massa Geral

and me chase him all ober e water--I not a sleep Massa

Courcy;" pursued the old man with pique; "I nebber

sleep,--Massa Geral, nebber sleep."

"The devil ye don't" observed De Courcy quaintly, "then

the Lord deliver ME from gun boat service, I say."

"Amen" responded Villiers.

"Why," asked Middlemore, "do Gerald Grantham and old

Frumpy here remind one of a certain Irish festival? Do

you give it up? Because they are AWAKE--"

The abuse heaped on the pre-eminently vile attempt was

unmeasured--Sambo conceived it a personal affront to

himself, and he said, with an air of mortification and

wounded dignity, not unmixed with anger!

"Sambo poor black nigger--obbicer berry white man, but

him heart all ob a color. He no Frumpy--Massa Geral no

like an Irish bestibal. I wonder he no tick up for a

broder, Massa Henry." His agitation here was extreme.

"Nonsense Sambo--don't you see we are only jesting with

you," said the youth, in the kindest tone, for he perceived

that the faithful creature was striving hard to check

the rising tear--"there is not an officer here who does

not respect you for your long attachment to my family,

and none would willingly give you pain--neither should

you suppose they would say anything offensive in regard

to my brother Gerald."

Pacified by this assurance, which was moreover, corroborated

by several of his companions, really annoyed at having

pained the old man, Sambo sank once more into respectful

silence, still however continuing to occupy the same

spot. During this colloquy the cry had been several

times repeated, and as often replied to from the shore;

and now a canoe was distinctly visible, urging its way

to the beach. The warriors it contained were a scouting

party, six in number--four paddling the light bark, and

one at the helm, while the sixth who appeared, to be the

leader, stood upright in the bow, waving from the long

pole to which it was attached a human scalp. A few minutes

and the whole had landed, and were encircled on the bank

by their eager and inquiring comrades. Their story was

soon told. They had encountered two Americans at some

distance on the opposite shore, who were evidently making

the best of their way through the forest to Detroit. They

called upon them to deliver themselves up, but the only

answer was an attempt at flight. The Indians fired, and

one fell dead, pierced by many balls. The other, however,

who happened to be considerably in advance, threw all

his energy into his muscular frame, and being untouched

by the discharge that had slain his companion, succeeded

in gaining a dense underwood, through which he finally

effected his escape. The scouts continued their pursuit

for upwards of an hour, but finding it fruitless, returned

to the place where they had left their canoe, having

first secured the scalp and spoils of the fallen man."

"Dam him, debbel," exclaimed Sambo, who as well as the

officers, had approached the party detailing their exploit,

and had fixed his dark eye on the dangling trophy. "May

I nebber see a hebben ib he not a calp of a younger

Desborough. I know him lying tief by he hair--he all

yaller like a sogers breast plate--curse him rascal (and

his white and even teeth, were exhibited in the grin that

accompanied the remark,) he nebber no more say he sail

round Massa Geral gun boat, and Massa Geral and Sambo

sleep."

"By Jove he is right," said De Courcy. "I recollect

remarking the colour of the fellow's hair yesterday when

on calling for a glass of "gin sling," at the inn to

which I had conducted him, he threw his slouched hat

unceremoniously on the table, and rubbed the fingers of

both hands through his carrotty locks, until they actually

appeared to stand like those of the Gorgon perfectly on

end."

"And were there other proof wanting," said Villiers, "we

have it here in the spoil his slayers are exhibiting to

their companions. There are the identical powder horn,

bullet pouch, and waist belt, which he wore when he landed

on this very spot."

"And I," said Middlemore, "will swear by the crooked buck

horn handle of that huge knife, or dagger; for in our

struggle on the sands yesterday morning, his blanket coat

came open, and discovered the weapon on which I kept a

sharp eye, during the whole time. Had he but managed to

plant that monster (and he affected to shudder,) under

my middle ribs, then would it hare been ail over with

poor Middlemore."

"There cannot be a doubt," remarked Henry Grantham.

"With Sambo and De Courcy, I well recollect the hair,

and I also particularly noticed the handle of his dagger,

which, as you perceive, has a remarkable twist in it."

All doubt was put to rest by Sambo, who, having spoken

with its possessor for a moment, now returned, bearing

the knife, at the extremity of the handle of which, was

engraved on a silver shield the letters P. E. T. A. Ens.

M. M.

"Paul, Emilius, Theophilus, Arnoldi, Ensign Michigan

Militia," pursued Grantham reading. "This then is

conclusive, and we have to congratulate ourselves that

one at least of two of the vilest scoundrels this country

ever harboured, has at length met the fate he merited."

"Fate him merit, Massa Henry," muttered the aged and

privileged negro, with something like anger in his tones,

as he returned the knife to the Indian; "he dam 'serter

from a king! No, no, he nebber deserb a die like dis. He

ought to hab a rope roun him neck and die him lying teef

like a dog."

"I guess however our friend Jeremiah has got clean slick

off," said Villiers, imitating the tone and language of

that individual, "and he, I take it, is by far the more

formidable of the two. I expect that, before he dies, he

will give one of us a long shot yet, in revenge for the

fall of young hopeful."

"Traitorous and revengeful scoundrel," aspirated Henry

Grantham, as the recollection of the manner of his father's

death came over his mind. "It is, at least, some consolation

to think his villainy has in part met its reward. I

confess I think in the death of young Desborough, less

even because a dangerous enemy has been removed, than

because in his fall the heart of the father will be racked

in its only assailable point. I trust I am not naturally

cruel, yet do I hope the image of his slain partner in

infamy may ever after revisit his memory, and remind him

of his crime."

An exclamation from the Indians now drew the attention

of the officers to a boat that came in sight, in the

direction in which that of Gerald Grantham had long since

disappeared, and as she drew nearer, a white flag, floating

in the stem became gradually distinguishable. Expressions

of surprise passed among the officers, by whom various

motives were assigned as the cause of the return of the

flag of truce, for that it was their own boat no one

doubted, especially, as, on approaching sufficiently

near, the blue uniform of the officer who steered the

boat was visible to the naked eye. On a yet nearer

approach, however, it was perceived that the individual

in question wore not the uniform of the British Navy,

but that of an officer of the American line, the same

precisely, indeed, as that of Major Montgomerie. It was

further remarked that there was no lady in the boat, and

that, independently of the crew, there was besides the

officer already named, merely one individual, dressed in

the non-commissioned uniform, who seemed to serve as his

orderly. Full evidence being now had that this was a

flag sent from the American Fort, which had, in all

probability, missed Gerald by descending one channel of

the river formed by Turkey Island, while the latter had

ascended by the other, the aid-de-camp, De Courcy hastened

to acquaint General Brock with the circumstance, and to

receive his orders. By the time the American reached the

landing place, the youth had returned, accompanying a

superior officer of the staff. Both descended the flight

of steps leading to the river, when, having saluted the

officer, after a moment or two of conversation, they

proceeded to blindfold him. This precaution having been

taken, the American was then handed over the gun-wale of

the boat, and assisted up the flight of steps by the two

British officers on whose arms he leaned. As they passed

through the crowd, on their way to the Fort, the ears of

the stranger were assailed by loud yells from the bands

of Indians, who, with looks of intense curiosity and

interest, gazed on the passing, and to them in some degree

inexplicable, scene. Startling as was the fierce cry,

the officer pursued his course without moving a muscle

of his fine and manly form, beyond what was necessary to

the action in which he was engaged. It was a position

which demanded all his collectedness and courage, and he

seemed as though he had previously made up his mind not

to be deficient in either. Perhaps it was well that he

had been temporarily deprived of sight, for could he have

remarked the numerous tomahawks that were raised towards

him, in pantomimic representation of what they would have

done had they been permitted, the view would in no way

have assisted his self-possession. The entrance to the

fort once gained by the little party, the clamour began

to subside, and the Indians, by whom they had been

followed, returned to the bank of the river to satisfy

their curiosity with a view of those who had been left

in the boat, to which, as a security against all possible

outrage, a sergeant's command had meanwhile been despatched.

It was in the drawing room of Colonel D'Egville, that

the General, surrounded by his chief officers, awaited

the arrival of the flag of truce. Into this the American

Colonel, for such was his rank, after traversing the area

of the fort that lay between, was now ushered, and, the

bandage being removed, his eye encountered several to

whom he was personally known, and with these such

salutations as became the occasion were exchanged.

"The flag you bear, sir," commenced the General, after

a few moments of pause succeeding these greetings, "relates

I presume, to the prisoners so recently fallen into our

hands."

"By no means, General," returned the American, "this is

the first intimation I have had of such fact--my mission

is of a wholly different nature. I am deputed by the

officer commanding the forces of the United States, to

summon the garrison of Amherstburg, with all its naval

dependencies, to surrender within ten days from this

period."

The General smiled. "A similar purpose seems to have

actuated us both," he observed. "A shorter limit have I

prescribed to the officer by whom I have, this very day,

sent a flag to General Hull; I have caused it to be

intimated, that, failing to comply with my summons, he

may on the ensuing Sabbath expect to see the standard of

England floating over the walls of his citadel. This,

Colonel, you may moreover repeat as my answer to your

mission."

The American bowed. "Such then, General, is your final

determination?"

"Not more certain is it that the next Sabbath will dawn,

than that the force I have the honor to command will

attempt the assault upon that day."

"What, within three days? You would seem to hold us

cheaply, General," said the American piquedly, "that you

do not even leave us in doubt as to the moment of your

intended attack."

"And if I would, it were useless," was the reply, "since

what I do attempt shall be attempted openly. In the broad

face of day will I lead my troops to the trenches. By

this time, however, your chief must know my determination--

where, may I ask, did you pass my flag?"

"I met with none, General, and yet my boat kept as nearly

in the middle of the stream as possible."

"Then must ye have passed each other on the opposite

sides of Turkey Island. The officer in charge was moreover

accompanied by two of the prisoners to whom I have alluded

--one a field officer in your own regiment."

"May I ask who?" interrupted the American quickly, and

slightly coloring.

"Major Montgomerie."

"So I suspected. Was the other officer of my regiment?"

"The other," said the General, "bears no commission, and

is simply a volunteer in the expedition--one in short,

whose earnest wish to reach Detroit, was the principal

motive for my offering the Major his liberty on parole."

"And may I ask the name of this individual, so unimportant

in rank, and yet so filled with ardor in the cause, as to

be thus anxious to gain the theatre of war?"

"One probably not unknown to you, Colonel, as the niece

of your brother officer--Miss Montgomerie."

"Miss Montgomerie here!" faltered the American, rising

and paling as he spoke, while he mechanically placed on

the table a glass of wine he had the instant before raised

to his lips--"surely it cannot be."

There was much to excite interest, not only in the changed

tone but in the altered features of the American, as he

thus involuntarily gave expression to his surprise. The

younger officers winked at each other, and smiled their

conviction of une affaire de coeur--while the seniors

were no less ready to infer that they now had arrived at

the true secret of the impatience of Miss Montgomerie to

reach the place of her destination. To the penetrating

eye of the General, however, there was an expression of

pain on the countenance of the officer, which accorded

ill with the feeling one might be supposed to entertain,

who had been unexpectedly brought nearer to an object of

attachment, and he kindly sought to relieve his evident

embarrassment by remarking:

"I can readily comprehend your surprise, Colonel. One

would scarcely have supposed that a female could have

had courage to brave the dangers attendant on an expedition

of this kind, in an open boat--but Miss Montgomerie, I

confess, appears to me to be one whom no danger could

daunt, and whose resoluteness of purpose, once directed,

no secondary agency could divert from its original aim."

Before the officer, having partially regained his composure,

could reply, Colonel D'Egville, who had absented himself

during the latter part of the conversation, returned and

addressing the former in terms that proved their

acquaintance to have been of previous date, invited him

to partake of some refreshment, which had been prepared

for him in an adjoining apartment. This the American at

first faintly declined, on the plea of delay having been

prohibited by his chief; but, on the General jocosely

remarking that, sharing their hospitality on the present

occasion would be no barrier to breaking a lance a week

hence, he assented; and, following Colonel D'Egville,

passed through a short corridor into a smaller apartment

where a copious but hurried refreshment had been prepared.

The entry of the officer was greeted by the presence of

three ladies--Mrs. D'Egville and her daughters--all of

whom received him with the frank cordiality that bespoke

intimacy, while, on the countenance of one of the latter,

might be detected evidences of an interest that had its

foundation in something more than the mere esteem which

dictated the conduct of her mother and sister. If Julia

D'Egville was in reality the laughing, light hearted,

creature represented in the mess room conversation of

the officers of the garrison, it would have been difficult

for a stranger to have recognized her in the somewhat

serious girl who now added her greetings to theirs, but

in a manner slightly tinctured with embarrassment.

The American, who seemed not to notice it, directed his

conversation, as he partook of the refreshment, principally

to Mrs. D'Egville, to whom he spoke of various ladies at

Detroit, friends of both, who were deep deplorers of the

war and the non-communication which it occasioned; alluded

to the many delightful parties that had taken place, yet

were now interrupted; and to the many warm friendships

which had been formed, yet might by this event be severed

for ever. He concluded by presenting a note front a very

intimate friend of the family, to which, he said, he had

been requested to take back a written answer.

A feeling of deep gratification pervaded the benevolent

countenance of Mrs D'Egville, as, on perusal, she found

that it contained the offer of an asylum for herself and

daughters in case Amherstburg should be carried by storm,

as, considering the American great superiority of force,

was thought likely, in the event of the British General

refusing to surrender.

"Excellent, kind hearted friend!" she exclaimed when she

had finished--"this indeed does merit an answer. Need of

assistance, however, there is none, since my noble friend,

the General, has pledged himself to anticipate any attempt

to make our soil the theatre of war--still, does it give

me pleasure to be enabled to reciprocate her offer, by

promising, in my turn, an asylum against all chances of

outrage on the part of the wild Indians, attached to our

cause"--and she left the room.

No sooner did the American find himself alone with the

sisters, for Colonel D'Egville had previously retired to

the General, than discarding all reserve, and throwing

himself on his knees at the feet of her who sat next him,

he exclaimed, in accents of the most touching pathos:

"Julia, dearest Julia! for this alone am I here. I

volunteered to be the bearer of the summons to the British

General, in the hope that some kind chance would give

you to my view, and now that fortune, propitious beyond

my utmost expectations, affords me the happiness of

speaking to you whom I had feared never to behold more,

oh, tell me that, whatever be the result of this unhappy

war, you will not forget me. For me, I shall ever cherish

you in my heart's core."

The glow which mantled over the cheek of the agitated

girl, plainly told that this passionate appeal was made

to no unwilling ear. Still she spoke not.

"Dearest Julia, answer me--the moments of my stay are

few, and at each instant we are liable to interruption.

In one word, therefore, may I hope? In less than a week,

many who have long been friends will meet as enemies.

Let me then at least have the consolation to know from

your lips, that whatever be the event, that dearest of

all gifts--your regard--is unchangeably mine."

"I do promise, Ernest," faltered the trembling girl.

"My heart is yours and yours forever--but do not

unnecessarily expose yourself," and her head sank

confidingly on the shoulder of her lover.

"Thank you, dearest," and the encircling arm of the

impassioned officer drew her form closer to his beating

heart. Gertrude, you are witness of her vow, and before

you, under more auspicious circumstances, will I claim

its fulfilment. Oh Julia, Julia, this indeed does

recompense me for many a long hour of anxiety and doubt."

"And hers too have been hours of anxiety and doubt," said

the gentle Gertrude. "Ever since the war has been spoken

of as certain, Julia has been no longer the gay girl she

was. Her dejection has been subject of remark with all,

and such is her dislike to any allusion to the past, that

she never even rallies Captain Cranstoun on his bear-skin

adventure of last winter on the ice."

"Ah," interrupted the American, "never shall I forget

the evening that preceded that adventure. It was then,

dearest Julia, that I ventured to express the feeling

with which you had inspired me. It was then I had first

the delight of hearing from your lips that I need not

entirely despair. I often, often, think of that night."

"Of course you have not yet received my note, Ernest.

Perhaps you will deem it inconsiderate in me to have

written, but I could not resist the desire to afford you

what I conceived would be a gratification, by communicating

intelligence of ourselves."

"Note! what note! and by whom conveyed?"

"Have you not heard," enquired Gertrude, warming into

animation, "that the General has sent a flag this morning

to Detroit, and, under its protection, two prisoners

captured by my gallant cousin, who is the officer that

conducts them."

"And to that cousin you have confided the letter?"

interrupted the Colonel, somewhat eagerly.

"No, not my cousin," said Julia, "but to one I conceived

better suited to the trust. You must know that my father,

with his usual hospitality, insisted on Major Montgomerie

and his niece, the parties in question, taking up their

abode with us during the short time they remained."

"And to Miss Montgomerie you gave your letter," hurriedly

exclaimed the Colonel, starting to his feet, and exhibiting

a countenance of extreme paleness."

"Good heaven, Ernest! what is the matter? Surely you do

not think me guilty of imprudence in this affair. I was

anxious to write to you,--I imagined you would be glad

to hear from me, and thought that the niece of one of

your officers would be the most suitable medium of

communication. I therefore confessed to her my secret,

and requested her to take charge the letter."

"Oh, Julia, you have been indeed imprudent. But what said

she--how looked she when you confided to her our secret?"

"She made no other remark than to ask how long our

attachment had existed, adding that she had once known

something of you herself; and her look and voice were

calm, and her cheek underwent no variation from the

settled paleness observable there since her arrival."

"And in what manner did she receive her trust?" again

eagerly demanded the Colonel.

"With a solemn assurance that it should be delivered to

you with her own hand--then, and then only, did a faint

smile animate her still but beautiful features. Yet why

all these questions, Ernest? Or can it really be? Tell

me," and the voice of the young girl became imperative,

"has Miss Montgomerie any claim upon your hand--she

admitted to have known you?"

"On my honor, none;" impressively returned the Colonel.

"Oh, what a weight you have removed from my heart, Ernest,

but wherefore your alarm, and wherein consists my

imprudence?"

"In this only, dearest Julia, that I had much rather

another than she had been admitted into your confidence.

But as you have acted for the best, I cannot blame you.

Still I doubt not," and the tones of the American were

low and desponding, "that, as she has promised, she will

find means to deliver your note into my own hands--the

seal is--?"

"A fancy one--Andromache disarming Hector."

"Rise, for Heaven's sake rise," interrupted Gertrude;

"here comes mamma."

One fond pressure of her graceful form, and the Colonel

had resumed his seat. In the next moment Mrs. D'Egville

entered, by one door, and immediately afterwards her

husband by another. The former handed her note, and during

the remarks which accompanied its delivery, gave the

little party (for Gertrude was scarcely less agitated

than her sister) time to recover from their embarassment.

Some casual conversation then ensued, when the American,

despite of Mrs. D'Egville's declaration that he could

not have touched a single thing during her absence,

expressed his anxiety to depart. The same testimonies

of friendly greeting, which had marked his entrance, were

exchanged, and preceded by his kind host. The Colonel

once more gained the apartment where the General still

lingered, awaiting his reappearance.

Nothing remaining to be added to the answer already given

to the summons, the American, after exchanging salutations

with such of the English Officers as were personally

known to him, again submitted himself to the operation

of blindfolding; after which he was reconducted to the

beach, where his boat's crew, who had in their turn been

supplied with refreshments, were ready to receive him.

As on his arrival, the loud yellings of the Indians

accompanied his departure but as these had been found to

be harmless, they were even less heeded than before.

Within two hours, despite of the strong current, the boat

had disappeared altogether from the view.

Late in that day, the barge of Gerald Grantham returned

from Detroit. Ushered into the presence of the General,

the young sailor communicated the delivery of his charge

into the hands of the American Chief, who had returned

his personal acknowledgments for the courtesy. His answer

to the summons, however, was that having a force fully

adequate to the purpose, he was prepared to defend the

fort to the last extremity, and waiving his own original

plan of attack, would await the British General on the

defensive, when to the God of Battles should be left the

decision of the contest. To a question on the subject,

the young officer added that he had seen nothing of the

American flag of truce, either in going or returning.

That night orders were issued to the heads of the different

departments, immediately to prepare materiel for a short

siege; and, an assault at the termination of the third

day. By both troops and Indians, this intelligence was

received with pleasure; for all, sanguine as they were

under such a leader, looked confidently to the speedy

conquest of a post which was one of the highest importance

on that frontier.