Chapter VII: Montcalm Takes a Night's Ramble

The spring was advanced to May. A few changes had taken place at the farm. The major had prosecuted with more than his usual vigor his various enterprises. He had improved his Jerusalem wagon. He had exercised a better supervision over his hired men. He had succeeded in reducing the hill almost to a level with the quagmire, a task which, owing to his under-estimation of the number of grammes of force required for the transfer, or to his overestimation of the number of ergs of work in his men, had taken longer than he had expected. Wingscheut, dissatisfied with the shoveling which he had been obliged to do, had hired out to Lyman Sparks, where he had found smaller wages and harder work.

The large clock in the sitting-room had struck eleven, and the Ratke family and farm hands, with one exception, had gone to bed. Montcalm, thoughtful and gloomy, sat in his bedroom. The last month had not been one of satisfaction to him. He had been accustomed to have his attentions sought after instead of seeking for an opportunity to bestow them. Some social triumphs, it is true, had been his; but Manie, whom of all women he most admired, had declined to accept his addresses, and had even hinted that his compliments savored more of flattery than of sincerity.

Irresolutely the restless hired man rose and peered from his window. The evergreens, almost touching the house, were moving slightly their branches and emitting a subdued murmur which was scarcely audible.

Casting off his indecision, Montcalm began to unlock one of two trunks which were in the room. The trunk was well fastened, requiring him to press several springs and to turn a thin key before the lid flew open and its contents were revealed. Had the major glanced over Montcalm's shoulder at that moment, he would have been struck with astonishment; but he could not possibly have named any considerable proportion of the articles which he would have seen. There were small saws, iron or steel implements, and, most curious of all, four large woolen pads, to which were attached hollow columns of leather resembling bootlegs, and each of which, when placed upon the floor, covered an area of more than one square foot.

Picking up the pads and a long steel bar and putting them into a large sack, Montcalm opened the window and climbed stealthily to the ground. From the shelter of the trees he scrutinized the road, which showed no sign of being traversed. The moon had set, but the stars, unobscured save by a few thin streaks of cloud, in a measure made up for the missing light. Passing to the barn from the lower edge of the shaded walk, he continued his way at a distance from the road sufficient to escape the observation of a possible passer-by and was soon in the rear of the tenement house occupied by Philetus Takum.

His approach was heralded by a suppressed growl, and Takum's yellow dog, Lina, and two litters of pups, one about the size of large cats, the other larger than their mother, came out to give him a canine welcome. The elder dog with the younger progeny trotted back to the nest under the house, but the larger pups capered about him as if desirous to become acquainted.

The place had about it an air of thriftlessness, quite suggestive of the character of its inhabitants. The fence which had bounded the yard had yielded to the demand for fuel, and in the place where a wood-pile had once been there were left not chips enough to kindle a fire. A light streamed through a window, from which had been broken several panes of glass, whose places had been supplied by a board, some rags and two old hats.

In the house, a female voice was charging Takum with a neglect to provide wood, and from the loft came boyish complaints, which were indistinguishable to Montcalm.

"Harv," growled Takum, "you quit your crowdin', or I'll be up there d'rectly."

Montcalm, going to the rear of some bushes, whither he was followed by the pups, lifted one of them by the tail clear from the ground, an act which elicited a doleful lament, and brought the mother snarling to the assistance of her offspring.

"Shut up, you brutes," yelled Takum, poking his head from the door. "What in thunder is the matter with 'em?" he ejaculated, as the noise continued unabated.

"Why! Mr. Montcalm," he exclaimed, as he suddenly confronted the visitor. "I didn't know you was here. I thought somethin' was the matter with the pups by the way Lina took on."

"And so there was," replied Montcalm. "This one was clever enough to call you out for me. Get your hat and come on. Get one you are not used to wearing."

"Ain't it purty light?" asked Philetus. "Seems to me it is."

"Very well," returned Montcalm, "if you are afraid, I can get some one else."

"Oh, no, I ain't afraid," assured Takum. "But I thought, you know. I'll git my hat right off."

"Get one of those from the window," said Montcalm. "Do not let your wife know that any one is with you."

Montcalm and Takum traversed the field in front of Ratke's at an angle sufficient to bring them some distance in the rear of the leveled hill. As, after crossing several other fields, they clambered over a fence which bounded a strip of timber, some sheep fled through the bushes in alarm.

"Jerusalem!" said Takum. "Wouldn't this be a fine place for a feller to help himself to mutton? I thought they was runnin' over by the church. They was last week. Green keeps his sheep fat, too. But they ain't so fat as Lyme Sparkses. His sheep is just a wad o' fat. But of all sheep ole Ratke's. Gosh all Friday! I wouldn't eat one o' his sheep for a farm. But say, if you like chickens, Lyme 'Sparks has got some o' the biggest, fattest Cochins you ever see. They grow quick, you know. Why, the meat 'ill almost sqush in your hands."

"I am not hungry for chickens," Montcalm shortly replied.

"Mebbe you like ducks better," suggested Philetus. "Green has got some o' the genuine Pekin. We might as well kill two birds with one stone."

"I have no appetite for ducks," answered Montcalm. "Let us attend to the business in hand."

"I s'pose nothin'll satisfy you but a goose," said Takum. "Widder Smith is the only one in this hull country that keeps geese. They're the plaguiest things to hook, though, you ever see. They'll get right on the doorstep an' gabble, gabble enough to wake the nations. But they ain't none on 'em sharp enough for me. Just you watch, an' I'll show you a trick that'll make you open your eyes."

"Is your name Phleet?" inquired Montcalm.

"That's the handle I go by," answered Takum.

"Well, then, Phleet, you have altogether too much mouth for a man of your size. Do what I tell you to do, and never mind hens and geese."

"What is that?" he exclaimed, as some animals came cautiously in view at the edge of an open space. "They are your dogs."

The older pups, which, alone, had ventured to follow, were by a few clubs sent yelping back to the residence of Takum.

"Nice help the boss picked out for me," commented Montcalm--"a fool and his dogs."

"I'm a-goin' back," said Philetus, "I ain't a-goin' to stay here to be abused."

"You can go a little ways, if you like," answered Montcalm, "about a step. At the second I shall shoot you."

Philetus was terrified as much by the kindly tone of Montcalm as by the savage words with which it was coupled. So dreadful a threat, uttered in such a manner, he believed was not an idle one. He followed in silence his superior, whom he watched with wonder and fear.

Emerging from the woods, they came to a lane which led to the barns of Green.

"You are working in finely, Phleet," complimented Montcalm.

"I'm glad you think so, Mr. Montcalm," responded Philetus in the lowest of whispers, as much pleased at the compliment as was one of his dogs at his own fondling.

"Lie here by this straw-stack," commanded Montcalm, as they entered the barn-yard. "I will take a turn about, the house. Can you tell me where all the folks sleep?"

"Ole Green and Mis' Green they sleep in the bedroom this way," answered Philetus, so cautiously that he could be barely heard. "An' the fool, he sleeps upstairs. An' say, don't git mad if I talk too much, but mebbe ole Green ain't gone to bed. He don't always burn lights, just to save oil, you know."

"I am glad you spoke of that," said Montcalm, taking the opportunity to soothe Takum's wounded feelings. "I will be careful."

Philetus, whose nerves had not recovered from the shock which they had received in the woods, was content to lie hidden in the straw. He started nervously, as he heard the whisper of Montcalm, who approached from a direction opposite to that in which he had set out.

"Everything is all right. Bring on that sack," said Montcalm.

Green, following the custom which prevailed among Jackson County farmers, kept his horse-barn locked. Montcalm drew the steel bar from the sack, inserted it in the staple, and at a few hearty wrenches twisted the fastening from its place.

Takum's curiosity concerning the sack, for the satisfaction of which he had not dared ask a question, had now an opportunity to be gratified. Montcalm took one of the strange-looking articles and endeavored to put the boot-like attachment on the leg of a colt which stood in a farther stall; but the animal was high-spirited, and he was obliged to summon Takum to his assistance.

The efforts of both were required to encase the feet of the colt in the pads. Considerable noise was made by the beast, as he stepped about trying to keep his feet from the clumsy coverings by which they were being cumbered.

Montcalm ordered Takum to stay close to the corn-crib, which was between the barns and the house, while he made a second tour about the latter building.

"Everything is quiet," he remarked, as he returned to his waiting ally. "Both of us must get that horse by the bridle, one on each side, for he promises to give us some trouble."

It was as Montcalm had predicted. The animal, when he comprehended that the bulky articles were on his feet, shied from side to side and came very near jamming Montcalm against the corner of a post. But the pads, soft as boxing-gloves, so muffled the sound that it could be heard but a few rods; and when the horse trod the solid ground, his uneasiness abated.

"You may ride if you like," said Montcalm, when they were in the lane.

"No, I'd rather foot it," answered Philetus, suspecting that the colt would not prove a docile beast of burden.

With a leap Montcalm lighted on the back of the horse, which plunged furiously forward, but subsided to a slower gait when he felt the grip of the master on his rein. Philetus, afraid to lag behind, raced after his superior at a pace which severely taxed his powers and led him to the conclusion that hereafter, should he be given the choice, he would hazard a possible fall rather than accept the alternative of certain exertions which were more violent than pleasant. At the entrance to the woods Montcalm dismounted and opened the gate before he was joined by his breathless subordinate. He led the colt through the timber, as the trees and overhanging limbs might lead to a casualty should he remain on the animal's back.

"Say," whispered Philetus, "don't think I'm a-talkin' too much, but Green calls this colt Billy."

"I am glad you told me," replied the leader. "It may help me to manage him."

The direction which they were pursuing was southeasterly. Philetus was astonished to see Montcalm, a stranger in the neighborhood, lead the way through the woods with a facility which he, a practiced raider of the vicinity, could not have equaled. Nor did his surprise abate when his companion, tying his horse to a sapling, brought from beneath a rotten log a sack, concerning the contents of which he was too much intimidated to inquire, but which he believed to contain a set of large woolen pads.

They were obliged to let down a fence in order to pass from the woods. After the rails were put back to their places, Montcalm told Philetus that he might ride; and that worthy, remembering the strain to which his legs were subjected in the lane, gladly accepted his offer.

Philetus had not far to practice his equestrianism. He passed through a gate, which led into the road and which Montcalm opened.

The large square house of Lyman Sparks, visible in the starlight, stood behind its partial screen of small pine-trees. It was evident from the buildings that the farm was owned by one whose success had been obtained by mastering the details of his profession. Not a stray board could be seen about the premises. Not a picket was loose in the fence which enclosed the house. The barns were models of comfort to the stock and convenience to the farmer; and between them was a straw-stack symmetrically built and having a neatly rounded top.

In front of the barnyard were some walnut-trees, and to a limb which hung conveniently low Montcalm tied the halter-strap of the stolen horse.

"In which barn is Madge T.?" he asked.

"In the one this way, the first stall," answered Takum.

"Stand by that small building," said Montcalm, "and watch the horse. If you hear any disturbance, notify me at once."

Philetus was by the protection of a not unfamiliar retreat, for it was the hen-house which he had so often visited. His instinct of thieving--for the propensity had become an instinct--was stronger than his fear of Montcalm, especially in the absence of the latter. In a very short time he had one of Sparks' matchless Cochins stuffed inside his jacket. His intrusion aroused a cackling protest among the fowls, and the dog, which had hitherto kept quiet, now ran out and added to the tumult. Philetus, alarmed at the result of his action, went hastily to Montcalm, and whispered, "That dog's out, and they can't nobody stop him."

"The pads are all on," said Montcalm. "Help me lead out this horse, and we will get away immediately."

"Quick, Mr. Montcalm!" said Takum in excitement. "They're a-comin'! They're a comin'!"

Just then Sparks, clad in his under-garments, shouted from his back porch, "Halt! Where be you a-goin' with my horse?"

"Jump on her back," ordered Montcalm. "Ride east a quarter of a mile and wait. I will join you as soon as I can."

There was near the barn from which Madge T. had been taken a third party, whose proximity was not suspected, either by Sparks or by the depredators. The vender of "Great American Panacea," repulsed at every house where he had asked for a night's lodging, had sought the straw-stack, in the side of which a hole had been eaten by the stock. The barking of the dog and the disturbance in the hen-house and in the stable suggested that he was not the only intruder, and the voice of Sparks confirmed the indications from other sources. With the conviction that the location was becoming dangerous, the peddler picked up his satchels and prepared to depart. He emerged from the cavern in the side of the straw-stack at the same moment that Wingscheut, who had dilatorily followed Sparks and his boy, came around the corner of the hen-house and confronted him.

Once face to face with the supposed horse-thief, the German was far from feeling the courage of which he was wont to boast. His employer and son were on the opposite side of the barn, and before their arrival to his assistance, he might be killed by the desperate stranger. His conduct was determined by the indecision of Panicky. His valor returned with tenfold intensity as the peddler whirled, dropped his satchels and made toward the barnyard fence, and with a wild dash he caught him with his boasted hiplock and brought him heavily to the ground, yelling at the top of his voice, "I'fe cot te tam horse-tief! I'fe cot te tam horse-tief!"

Poor Panicky clutched the wrists of Wingscheut, whose intention was mercilessly to pound him. He would have given the contents of his satchels, of his pockets, even the clothes he wore, to be placed, unhampered, four feet from his captor.

"Oh, let me up!" he pleaded, clinging to the writhing hands, which threatened to descend upon him with crushing force. "I haven't stole any horse."

"Yes you haf stole a horse," affirmed Wingscheut, struggling to free his hands, "te pest horse in te whole country. I'll cif you a face vat von't look coot in Suntay-school. Let co my hant, I tell you. Can't you mint notting? Come kill te tam horse-tief," he added, as Sparks and his boy drew near.

Montcalm did not wait to see his order to Takum obeyed. He ran down the graveled drive and to the walnut-tree before he was passed by Philetus. He had hitched the horse underneath the tree, the limbs of which were low, so that he could distinctly see neither the house nor the barn. An embarrassing difficulty was now presented. The halter-strap, at which the colt had been continually pulling, could not be readily untied; and he had left his knife at home in a pocket of his working clothes. Pulling and twisting, he managed to break the limb and disengage the severed extremity from the halter-strap.

It was at this juncture that he heard Wingscheut proclaiming that he had captured the horse-thief. He was at a loss to account for the circumstance. Madge T. had certainly raced by him, but behind the low-hanging bushes he had not ascertained whether Philetus were on her back, although he had had no suspicion that such was not the case. He laid hold of a strong stick which had been used to knock walnuts from the tree, before he decided on his course of action, but all doubts as to the cause of the outcry were at an end when Wingscheut again called Sparks to come and kill the horse-thief.

Whatever were the faults of Montcalm, he was not the one to desert an ally. Assuring himself that his revolver was ready for use, he sprang upon the back of the horse and dashed up the drive, through a gate which had been left open by Sparks, and around the corner of the barn.

The Sparkses, happening to look up in season, fled before what they supposed to be a rescue of cavalry, effecting their retreat through a second gate which led into the lane. Wingscheut, intent on pounding Panicky and unwarned by the muffled hoofs of the horse, which made but little noise, did not realize his danger until communication with the house and with his employer was cut off. He was frightened at the prospect of receiving the violence which he was anxious to mete out to another, and he limped around the straw-stack with a speed which was, for a man who had a crippled leg, almost phenomenal. His terror did not find vent in words until Montcalm raced up and struck him several blows with his cudgel, when he exclaimed:

"Ton't kill a man vat ain't to plame! Warum schlagst du mich? Was hab' ich gethan? I ain't tone notting! Te teffil, I ain't tone notting!"

Montcalm, satisfied that those whom he had dispersed would not soon organize for pursuit, turned his horse by a considerable effort and rode back to Panicky, who, satchels in hand, was preparing to leave the locality, which had for him no pleasant recollections. "Here," said Montcalm, unable distinctly to see the man whom he had rescued, and supposing him to be Philetus, "jump on quick and ride away."

"I don't believe I care to ride," answered Panicky.

"What!" ejaculated Montcalm. "Who are you?"

The marauder leaped on his horse, from which he had dismounted, and was instantly flying down the drive. His perplexity over the incident at the straw-stack did not abate when he found Takum waiting at the appointed place.

"Oh! Mr. Montcalm," whispered Philetus, "I was afraid they'd caught you. I heard 'em sayin' they'd got the horse-thief and they was a-goin' to kill 'im. This ain't hookin' chickens. We better be gittin' right out o' here."

"There is no hurry," replied Montcalm. "They are no more anxious to find us than we are to find them. Drive your horse out to the side of the road, and we will trot along. Did you see any one around the barn or straw-stack?"

"Nary a body," said Takum. "Can't you touch up your horse, Mr. Montcalm? Caesar! how this mare pulls. I can't hold her. 'Twouldn't do for us to git far apart. They'd git away with us sure."

"I will try to keep so close to you that you can protect me," Montcalm answered.

"That's just what I'll do," said Takum. "I'll stick closer'n a brother. Less see if there's any run in these horses."

"We will stop here," said Montcalm, as they came to a wood at the end of the road. "Let down the fence. Be careful," he cautioned, as Takum threw the rails right and left.

"They're a-gittin' the neighbors out!" whispered Philetus. "That's Sparkses boy. Just hear him yell! Less light out!"

"They will not be here under half an hour," said Montcalm. "We must put up this fence or they will track us."

The wood was here easy of access. It had been used as a picnic ground and had been consequently cleared of underbrush. Most of the trees were white oaks, the limbs of which, unadorned, save by newly sprouted leaves, admitted the direct rays of the stars and the diffused light of the rising moon, though that luminary was not yet visible above the tree tops. Farther along the slope which the plunderers and their booty were descending, the trees were taller, closer together and covered with a more luxuriant growth of leaves. The boundary between the forest and the great swamp was formed by a strip of small ash and poplars, through which led, here and there, a path.

Ordering Takum to hold the horses, Montcalm went into the bushes and soon reappeared with two pairs of high rubber boots.

"Hello," exclaimed Takum, who was beginning to lose his apprehension of pursuit, "how did you know them boots was there?"

"It is no bad thing to be good at guessing," said Montcalm. "Strip off your cowhides and put on a pair, for you will need them. After we get through this thicket, we will ride till we come to the high bushes."

They rode easily through low brush and the belt of water, which at the edge reached nearly to the horses' bodies, but which grew shallow as they proceeded. When they came to the high bushes, however, the brutes refused to proceed farther. Montcalm tied the colt, removed the pads from the feet of the animals, and led Madge T., while Philetus was ordered to urge her from the rear. Sparks' trotter never before experienced such a castigation as was administered to her by the tamarack pole in the hands of the obedient Takum. Although the distance was not more than half a mile, and Philetus in wielding the pole spared neither the brute nor his own muscle, it was thirty minutes before they reached the tamaracks.

"Well," remarked Takum, wiping the sweat from his brow, "we can't git no horse through them tamaracks."

"Let me show you how these trees grow," said Montcalm, pulling one of them from the ground, in which a sharpened point had been sticking.

"I swan!" ejaculated the wondering Philetus, "somebody has cut them poles and stuck 'em back in again."

Madge T. was again tied, and the two men commenced to pull the trees from a narrow space which had been prepared for the speedy completion of a road. Many fallen and nearly decayed tamaracks, which had been left to give the way a natural appearance, were by Montcalm's command lifted aside carefully, that they might again be returned, unchanged, to their former position. It was necessary to be near the trees which had been cut and set in the ground to distinguished them from those which were standing as they had grown. But a careful observer would have noticed that the ground was disturbed, that many of the trees were leaning, and that his feet often stepped on the small stumps, which were imperfectly hidden by ruffled moss. Montcalm depended for the security of the stolen property on the loneliness of the place more than on the measures he had taken to provide for the closing of the road when his booty should have passed through. Nor was this confidence ill-founded. The huckleberries and tamaracks were so thick that in many places it was impossible to see at a distance of more than six feet. The mat of bushes, catching at clothes and striking when they were bent back and released, were certain to occupy a liberal share of the attention of possible wanderer, if, as was quite unlikely, he might be led at that season of the year, by business or curiosity, to flounder through the mire and water which surrounded the swamp.

As they proceeded into the interior of the thicket, the trees were larger and farther apart, so that few of them had to be removed. The road here became more winding, not only because those who cleared it found it easier to pass around than to chop down a large trunk, but because this method offered less danger of detection. Presently the way became straighter and the trees smaller and more numerous, as at the edge of the tamaracks.

In a cleared spot of a few yards in area the plunderers halted. Ample provision had been made for the accommodation of the horses. By the border of the clearing were a bag of oats, some bedding and a large bundle of hay wound about with a rope. Had Philetus possessed the spirit of romanticism, he would have reveled in the scene before him. But unappreciated, even unnoticed, was that combination of picturesqueness formed by the rising moon, the spoils of the foray, the steed which had been ridden in the expedition, the dark, resolute face of the leader and the wall of marshy forest which screened him in his retreat.

The ground, which in most swamps is highest at the center, was here quite dry. It was covered by moss, on which was spread a finer carpeting--the leaves which had dropped the preceding fall; and over it arched the tamaracks, which had put forth their peculiar pointed foliage before the phlegmatic oaks of the upland had covered their naked branches after the lethargy of winter.

The second horse was more difficult to lead than the first. He pulled back on his halter and when urged by the blows with which Takum belabored him, plunged ahead with such vehemence that Montcalm was scarcely able to hold him. It was a relief to Philetus when both horses were eating together in the opening. The work of replacing the sharpened stakes occupied some minutes. Montcalm insisted that the old brush and fallen poles should be dragged back to their places and arranged with care.

More disagreeable than the task which they had completed was that of wading through the water which skirted the marsh. The rubber boots, high as they were, sank beneath the surface, and the clothing of the lower limbs was saturated with muddy water. In the border of the woods the men changed their rubber for leather boots, and Montcalm substituted for his drenched trousers a pair which he found in a clump of bushes, and which had been left evidently with a view to meeting that exigency.

"Ain't it about time we was makin' towards home, Mr. Montcalm?" asked Philetus.

"Why, are you sick of foraging?" inquired Montcalm.

"No, I ain't sick of it, as you might say," answered Takum, "but I've got enough of it for just now, you know. My legs is about petered."

"I think you and I can do a very good business," said Montcalm.

"That's about what I think," returned Takum. "Me an' you is hustlers, an' they hadn't nobody better interfere with us neither."

As Takum finished this speech, his foot caught in a brush, and he was thrown against a tree with such force that his jacket was unbuttoned and the dead hen tumbled against a log with a thud.

"How did you come by that?" demanded Montcalm.

"Well, you see," answered the terrified Philetus, "I was right there, you know, by the hen-house, you know, an' I thought it wouldn't do any hurt, seein' I'knew the way in, to git this chicken."

"Was that when the dog barked?" asked Montcalm.

"No, just afore," acknowledged Takum. "You ain't mad, be you, Mr. Montcalm?"

"I would not try any such thing again," said Montcalm. "You must attend to business and let hens, ducks and geese alone. You are green at the work, but by training you will make a good hand."

"You bet your sweet neck," replied Philetus. "I ain't no two-spot. Say, don't you think me an' you could git them horses without accountin' to nobody for 'em?"

"No, it would not be best," said Montcalm. "We could not sell them without getting caught. Besides, there is a great risk in taking them. I never work in a neighborhood long after I start a gang. You and I have too long heads to wallow through swamps and risk our necks around other men's barns at night. We will do the planning, and let some one else do the work."

"Say, but there is somethin' in that," acquiesced Philetus. "Me an' you can do the plannin'. I was to git ten dollars for what I done, an' I've been scart more'n ten dollars' worth, take it all around. Don't none o' the men you have to work for you ever tell?"

"Oh, yes!" answered Montcalm, "they sometimes do."

"An' do you ever hurt 'em?" queried Takum.

"No," replied Montcalm.

"So you never do nothin' to 'em?" said Takum.

"Oh, yes!" said Montcalm, "we do something to them."

"An' what do you do?" asked Philetus.

"Shoot them," answered Montcalm.

"I thought you said you never hurt 'em," said Takum in a disappointed tone.

"Neither do we. We kill them so quick it does not hurt them," gently replied Montcalm.

"Oh, I wouldn't tell nobody," said Takum earnestly. "I've hooked more chickens'n anybody in this hull country, an' I never told anybody but you."

At Takum's house Montcalm struck across the fields and was soon by Ratke's barns. In the shadow of the largest he paused and deliberated whether it were not better to leave the neighborhood. He knew that pursuit must have been organized for his capture. It was also possible that he had been recognized by Wingscheut, Sparks or the mysterious stranger whom he had rescued. Moreover, he had reason to fear the instability of Philetus. But Philetus might prove a better confidant than helper, especially after being impressed with the certainty of punishment for the first breach of confidence.

Montcalm decided to remain. He hesitated to leave her for whose approval, though it could not be gained, no sacrifice would have been too great. He told himself that, had she given him the least encouragement, he would have averted the misfortunes which were gathering about her and her relatives. He was tired of the life he was leading, with its trickery and deceit, its wronging of honest men. He would lay his plans, and at a few successful moves gather in the money which would enable him to live at peace with all mankind.

Strangely he felt the force of those words which that Sabbath night Manie had spoken to him concerning Ahab and the Syrian. He had made the covenant with Ben-hadad, but his Ramoth Gilead had not yet come. And would it come? With that apprehension by which the guilty spirit alone is haunted, he looked about him. In the peaceful air, undisturbed by a sound harsher than the note of the whip-poor-will, was no warning. The only foreign element in the quiet which reigned about the place was the turbulence which agitated the mind of one man.

The night was now well advanced. Some stars which had by the marauders been used as landmarks or timepieces, had changed their places or disappeared. The Pleiades had descended to the westward. The great dipper had lowered its handle until it appeared to be a receptacle toward which were falling myriads of glittering drops. Taking his way through the spruce, Montcalm raised his window and clambered in.