``Corporal!'' said he, swiftly, ``secure the sentry at the main gate! You,'' he added, turning to the Pennsylvanian, ``lead us to the governor.But mind, if you betray me, I'll be the first to blow out your brains.''
The man seized a lantern and made swiftly over the level ground until the rubble-work of the old Jesuit house showed in the light, nor Clark nor any of them stopped to think of the danger our little handful ran at the mercy of a stranger.The house was silent.We halted, and Clark threw himself against the rude panels of the door, which gave to inward blackness.Our men filled the little passage, and suddenly we found ourselves in a low-ceiled room in front of a great four-poster bed.And in it, upright, blinking at the light, were two odd Frenchified figures in tasselled nightcaps.Astonishment and anger and fear struggled in the faces of Monsieur de Rocheblave and his lady.A regard for truth compels me to admit that it was madame who first found her voice, and no uncertain one it was.
First came a shriek that might have roused the garrison.
``Villains! Murderers! Outragers of decency!'' she cried with spirit, pouring a heap of invectives, now in French, now in English, much to the discomfiture of our backwoodsmen, who peered at her helplessly.
``Nom du diable!'' cried the commandant, when his lady's breath was gone, ``what does this mean?''
``It means, sir,'' answered Clark, promptly, ``that you are my prisoner.''
``And who are you?'' gasped the commandant.
``George Rogers Clark, Colonel in the service of the Commonwealth of Virginia.'' He held out his hand restrainingly, for the furious Monsieur Rocheblave made an attempt to rise.``You will oblige me by remaining in bed, sir, for a moment.''
``Coquins! Canailles! Cochons!'' shrieked the lady.
``Madame,'' said Colonel Clark, politely, ``the necessities of war are often cruel.''
He made a bow, and paying no further attention to the torrent of her reproaches or the threats of the helpless commandant, he calmly searched the room with the lantern, and finally pulled out from under the bed a metal despatch box.Then he lighted a candle in a brass candlestick that stood on the simple walnut dresser, and bowed again to the outraged couple in the four-poster.
``Now, sir,'' he said, ``you may dress.We will retire.''
``Pardieu!'' said the commandant in French, ``a hundred thousand thanks.''
We had scarcely closed the bedroom door when three shots were heard.
``The signal!'' exclaimed Clark.
Immediately a pandemonium broke on the silence of the night that must have struck cold terror in the hearts of the poor Creoles sleeping in their beds.The war-whoop, the scalp halloo in the dead of the morning, with the hideous winding notes of them that reached the bluff beyond and echoed back, were enough to frighten a man from his senses.In the intervals, in backwoods French, John Duff and his companions were heard in terrifying tones crying out to the habitans to venture out at the peril of their lives.
Within the fort a score of lights flew up and down like will-o'-the-wisps, and Colonel Clark, standing on the steps of the governor's house, gave out his orders and despatched his messengers.Me he sent speeding through the village to tell Captain Bowman to patrol the outskirts of the town, that no runner might get through to warn Fort Chartres and Cohos, as some called Cahokia.None stirred save the few Indians left in the place, and these were brought before Clark in the fort, sullen and defiant, and put in the guard-house there.And Rocheblave, when he appeared, was no better, and was put back in his house under guard.
As for the papers in the despatch box, they revealed Iknow not what briberies of the savage nations and plans of the English.But of other papers we found none, though there must have been more.Madame Rocheblave was suspected of having hidden some in the inviolable portions of her dress.
