The Forge in the Forest. Roberts Charles G. D.

pestilent son, these bonds may be a wholesome and sufficient lesson to you!"

      "You shall have a lesson sufficient rather than wholesome, I promise you!" said I.

      "But as for this fellow," went on the Abbé, without noticing my interruption, "he is a spy. You understand how spies fare, Monsieur!" And a malignant light made his eyes appear like two points of steel beneath the ambush of his ragged brows.

      I saw Marc's lean face flush thickly under the gross accusation.

      "It is a lie, you frocked hound!" he cried, careless of the instant peril in which he stood.

      But the Black Abbé never looked at him.

      "I wish you joy of your son, a very good Englishman, Monsieur, and now, I fear, not long for this world," said he, in a tone of high civility. "He has long been fouling with his slanders the names of those whom he should reverence, and persuading the people to the English. But now, after patiently waiting, I have proofs. His treachery shall hang him!"

      For a moment the dear lad's peril froze my senses, so that it was but dimly I heard his voice, ringing with indignation as he hurled back the charge upon the lying lips that made it.

      "If the home of lies be anywhere out of Hell, it is in your malignant mouth, you shame of the Church," he cried in defiance. "There can be no proof that I am a spy, even as there can be no proof that you are other than a false-tongued assassin, defiling your sacred office."

      It was the galling defiance of a savage warrior at the stake, and even in my fear my heart felt proud of it. The priest was not galled, however, by these penetrating insults.

      "As for the proofs," said he, softly, never looking at Marc, but keeping his eyes on my face, "Monsieur de Ramezay shall judge whether they be proofs or not. If he say they are not, I am content."

      At a sign, a mere turn of his head it seemed to me, the Indians loosed Marc's feet to lead him away.

      "Farewell, Father," said he, in a firm voice, and turned upon me a look of unshakable courage.

      "Be of good heart, son," I cried to him. "I will be there, and this devil shall be balked!"

      "You, Monsieur," said the priest, still smiling, "will remain here for the present. To-night I will send a villager to loose your bonds. Then, by all means, come over and see Monsieur de Ramezay at Chignecto. I may not be there then myself, but this business of the spy will have been settled, for the commander does not waste time in such small matters!"

      He turned away to follow his painted band, and I, shaking in my impotent rage and fear, called after him: —

      "As God lives and is my witness, if the lad comes to any harm, these hands will visit it upon you an hundredfold, till you scream for death's mercy!"

      But the Black Abbé moved off as if he heard no word, and left me a twisted heap upon the turf, gnawing fiercely at the tough deer-hide of my bonds.

      Chapter III

      Tamin's Little Stratagem

      I had been gnawing, gnawing in an anguish at the thongs, for perhaps five minutes. There had been no more than time for the Abbé's wolf-pack to vanish by a turn of the road. Suddenly a keen blade slit the thongs that bound my wrists. Then my feet felt themselves free. I sat up, astonished, and saw stooping over me the droll, broad face of Tamin the Fisher, – or Tamin Violet, as he was rightly, though seldom, called. His mouth was solemn, as always, having never been known to wear a smile; but the little wrinkles laughed about his small bright eyes. I sprang up and grasped his hand.

      "We must not lose a moment, Tamin, my friend!" I panted, dragging him into the thick shade of the wood.

      "I was thinking you might be in a hurry, M'sieu," said my rescuer. "But unless the mouse wants to be back in the same trap I've just let it out of, you'd better keep still a half-minute and make up your mind. They've a round road to go, and we'll go straight!"

      "You saw it all?" I asked, curbing myself as best I could, for I perceived the wisdom of his counsel.

      "Oh, ay, M'sieu, I saw it!" replied the Fisher. "And I laughed in my bones to hear the lad talk up to the good father. There was more than one shot went home, I warrant, for all the Black Abbé seemed so deaf. They're festering under his soutane even now, belike!"

      "But come!" said I. "I've got my wind!" And we darted noiselessly through the cool of the great trees, turning a little east from the road.

      We ran silently for a space, my companion's short but massive frame leaping, bending, gliding even as lightly as my own, which was ever as lithe as a weasel's. Tamin was a rare woodsman, as I marked straightway, though I had known him of old rather as a faithful tenant, and marvellously patient to sit in his boat all day a-fishing on the drift of the Minas tides.

      Presently he spoke, under his breath.

      "Very like," said he, drily, "when we come up to them they will all fall down. So, we will take the lad and walk away! eh, what, M'sieu?"

      "Only let us come up to them," said I, "and learn their plans. Then we will make ours!"

      "Something of theirs I know," said Tamin. "Their canoes are on the Canard maybe three furlongs to east of the road. Thence they will carry the lad to de Ramezay, for the Black Abbé will have things in due form when he can conveniently, and now it is plain he has a scheme well ripe. But if this wind holds, we'll be there before them. My boat is lying hard by."

      "God be praised!" I muttered; for in truth I saw some light now for the first time. Presently, drawing near the road again, I heard the voice of La Garne. We at once went softly, and, avoiding again, made direct for where lay the canoes. There we disposed ourselves in a swampy thicket, with a little breadth of water lying before and all the forest behind. The canoes lay just across the little water, and so close that I might have tossed my cap into them. The clean smell of the wet salt sedge came freshly into the thicket. The shadows lay long on the water. We had time to grow quiet, till our breathing was no longer hasty, our blood no longer thumped in our ears. A flock of sand-pipers, with thin cries, settled to feed on the red clay between the canoes and the edge of the tide. Suddenly they got up, and puffed away in a flicker of white breasts and brown wings; and I laid a hand on Tamin's shoulder. The painted band, Marc in their midst, La Garne in front, were coming down the slope.

      The lad's face was stern and scornful. To my joy I saw that there was to be no immediate departure. The redskins flung themselves down indolently. The Black Abbé saw his prisoner made fast to a tree, and then, telling his followers that he had duties at Pereau which would keep him till past sunset, strode off swiftly up the trail. Tamin and I, creeping as silently as snakes back into the forest, followed him.

      For half an hour we followed him, keeping pace for pace through the shadow of the wood. Then said I softly to Tamin: —

      "This is my quarrel, my friend! Do you keep back, and not bring down his vengeance on your head."

      "That for his vengeance!" whispered Tamin, with a derisive gesture. "I will take service with de Ramezay, as a regular soldier of France!"

      "Even there," said I, "his arm might reach and pluck you forth. Keep back now, and let him not see your face!"

      "Priest though he be, M'sieu," urged Tamin, anxiously, "he is a mighty man of his hands!"

      I turned upon him a face of scorn which he found sufficient answer. Then, signing to him to hold off, I sped forward silently. No weapon had I but a light stick of green ash, just cut. There was smooth, mossy ground along the trail, and my running feet made no more sound than a cat's. I was within a pace of springing upon his neck, when he must have felt my coming. He turned like a flash, uttered a piercing signal cry, and whipped out a dagger.

      "They'll never hear it," mocked I, and sent the dagger spinning with a smart pass of my stick. The same stroke went nigh to breaking his wrist. He grappled bravely, however, as I took him by the throat, and I was astonished at his force and suppleness. Nevertheless the struggle was but brief, and the result a matter to be sworn to beforehand; for I, though not of great stature, am stronger than any other man, big or little, with whom I have ever come to trial; and more than that, when I was a prisoner among the English, I