Stranded in Arcady by Francis Lynde
XIX
IN DURANCE VILE
PRIME stood up, spreading his empty hands in reasonable token ofsubmission.
"If you are an officer of the law we have no notion of resisting you,"he said placably. "What is the charge against us?"
"Ye'll be knowin' that weel enough, I'm thinkin'. Whaur's Indian Julesand the Cambon man? Maybe ye can tell me that! Aiblins ye'd better not,though. I'll gie ye fair warnin' that whatever ye say'll be used againstye."
There seemed to be nothing for it but an unconditional surrender. Primelooked the posse over appraisively as the men composing it moved forwardinto the circle of firelight. The under-sheriff was what his speechdeclared him to be--a Scotchman; stubby, square-built, clean-shaven,with a graying fringe of hair over his ears, a hard-lined mouth, shrewdeyes under penthouse brows, and a portentous official frown. His possemen were apparently either "river hogs" or saw-mill hands--rough-lookingyoung fellows giving the impression that they would obey orders withsmall regard for consequences. Prime saw nothing hopeful in theScotchman's face, but it occurred to him that a too easy yielding mightbe construed as an admission of guilt.
"I take it that a false arrest and imprisonment is actionable in Canada,as well as in the United States," he threw out coolly, helping Lucettato her feet. "We'll be glad to have you take us with you--but not asprisoners." And thereupon he briefed for the square-built one the storyof the kidnapping and its results.
"And ye're expectin' me to believe any such fule's rubbish as that?"snapped the Scotchman wrathfully when the tale was told.
"You can believe it or not, as you choose; it is the plain truth. We'llgo along with you cheerfully, and be grateful enough to you or toanybody who will show us the way out of this wilderness. But, as to thecrime you are charging us with, there isn't a particle of evidence, andyou know it."
"There's evidence to hang the baith of ye! Ye've admitted that thehalf-breeds are baith deid; and John Baptist will sweer that ye hadtheir canoe and Cambon's gun. For the matter o' that, ye're not denyin'it, yerself."
"We are merely wasting time," put in Prime quietly. "You evidently haveno wish to be convinced; and if you are willing to take the chance ofmaking a false arrest you may have your own way. Let me say first,though, that this lady is just recovering from a severe attack of fever,and you will be held strictly accountable if you make her endure anyunreasonable hardships."
"'Tis not for you to make terms," was the irascible rejoinder, and thento his men: "Tie their hands, and we'll be goin'."
"One moment," Prime interposed; and stooping swiftly he caught up therifle. "You may do anything you please to me, but the first man who laysa hand on the lady is going to get himself killed."
The under-sheriff screwed out a bleak smile at the naive simplicity ofthe threat. "And if we say 'Yes,' and truss you up first," hesuggested, "what'll ye be doin' then?"
"I shall take your word for it as from one gentleman to another," wasPrime's quick concession, and with that he dropped the gun and held outhis hands.
They bound him securely with buckskin thongs, and at a word from theScotchman the camp dunnage was gathered up, the fire trodden out, and ashift was made to the river-bank. A three-quarter moon, riding high,showed the two captives a large birchbark drawn out upon the sands. Theembarkation was quickly accomplished, the under-sheriff planting himselfamidships with his two prisoners, and the four posse-men taking thepaddles as if they had been bred to it.
After an hour or more of swift downstream gliding the current quickenedand a sound like the wind sweeping through the tree-tops warned thevoyagers that they were approaching a rapid. At this the canoe was sentashore and the Scotchman changed places with his bow-man, letting thechange stand even after the slight hazard of quick water was passed.Prime soon saw that his new guard was nodding, and bent to whisper tohis fellow captive:
"This is mighty hard for you--after yesterday and last night," heprotested. "Can't you shift a little and lean against me?"
"I am doing quite well," was the low-toned answer. And then: "What isgoing to come of all this, Donald?"
"We shall get out of the woods for one thing. And for another we aregoing to hope that a real court will not be so obstinately suspicious asthis Scotchman. But, whatever lies ahead, we must just stand by and faceit out--together. They can't punish us for a crime that we didn'tcommit."
There was silence for another half-hour, and then Lucetta whisperedagain.
"Which pocket is your penknife in?" she asked.
"The right-hand pocket of my waistcoat. What are you going to do?"
"I am going to cut the thongs. It is barbarously cruel for them to leaveyou tied this way!"
"No," he forbade. "That would only make matters worse. The buckskin isnot hurting me much. Lean your head against my shoulder and see if youcan't get a little sleep."
At the morning breakfast halt Prime tried to extract a bit ofgeographical information from the Scotchman. It was given grudgingly.During the night they had passed from their own river to the largerRiviere du Lievres and they were still twenty-four hours or more fromtheir destination--a place with a long French name that Prime did notcatch and which the Scotchman would not repeat. For the first time intheir wanderings the two castaways ate a meal that they had not preparedfor themselves; and Prime, observing anxiously, was glad to note thatLucetta's wilderness appetite seemed to be returning.
Throughout the day, during which the crew took turns paddling andsleeping, the big birch-bark held to its down-stream course. But now thescenery was changing with each fresh looping of the crooked river, theRiver of the Hares. Recent timber-cuttings appeared; the riverbroadened into lake-like reaches; here and there upon the banks therewere lumber camps; in the afternoon a small town was passed, and laterthe site of another that had been destroyed by a landslide.
With an eye single to his purpose, the Scotchman made no noon stop, andthe supper fire was built on the right-hand bank of the broadened streamat a spot where there were no signs of human habitation. As at thebreakfast, Prime's bonds were taken off to permit him to feed himself,and when the voyage was resumed they were not put on again.
"The wumman tells me ye can't swim, and I'm takin' her word for it," wasthe gruff explanation. "If ye go overboard in the night, I'll juist latye droon."
With his hands free, Prime asked if he might smoke. The permission wasgiven, and, since they had confiscated Prime's store of tobacco with theremainder of the dunnage, the Scotchman opened his heart and histobacco-pouch in the prisoner's behalf, filling his own pipe at the sametime. When the dottles were glowing, the under-sheriff thawed anotherdegree or so.
"D'ye mean to tell me that ye're goin' to hold to that rideeculous storyof yours in the coort?" he questioned. "It may do for auld SandyMacdougal, the under-sheriff; but ye'll no be expectin' a jury to listentill it."
Prime laughed soberly. "I wish, for your sake and our own, Mr.Macdougal, that we had a more believable story to tell. But facts arehard matters to evade. Things have happened to us precisely as I havetried to tell you. We were drugged in Quebec and abducted--carried offin an air-machine, as well as we can reason it out--and that is allthere is to it. We don't know any more than you do what we werekidnapped for--or by whom."
"Weel, ye're a main lang ways from Quebec the noo--some twa hunnerdmiles or mair. And ye're not dressed for the timmer."
"Hardly," said Prime.
Macdougal jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward Lucetta. "Is thewumman yer wife?"
"No; we are distant cousins, though we had never met before the morningwhen we found ourselves on the shore of the big lake."
"Ye mean that ye were strangers to each ither?"
"Just that. Up to that moment neither had known of the existence of theother."
The Scotchman stared hard at Prime from beneath his shaggy brows.
"Young man, ye'll juist be tellin' me what's yer business, when ye'renot trollopin' r
"I am a fiction-writer," Prime admitted, not without some little anxietyas to the effect the statement might have upon the hard-headedunder-sheriff.
"Ou, ay! That's it, is it? A story-writer? And, besides that, ye're thebiggest fule leevin' to tell it to me. Ye'll no be expectin' me tobelieve anything ye're sayin', after that! A novel-writer--losh!"
"One of the greatest Scotchmen the world ever saw was a novel-writer,"Prime ventured to suggest.
"And it's varra little to his credit, let me tell ye that, young man!'Tis mair becomin' to Sir Walter that he was sheriff depute o'Selkirkshire and clerk o' session for abune twenty-five year on end.That's a canty story for ye!"
Prime saw that he was making no headway with the Macdougal, and afterthe pipes were out he tried to compose himself to sleep. Some time lateron, Macdougal changed places with one of the paddlers, and, seizing heropportunity, Lucetta crept back to take her place beside Prime. Theytalked in whispers for a while, each trying to cheer the other. Themorning of new and more threatening involvements was only a short nightdistant, and in the light of the month of hardship and mystery theycould only fear the worst and hope for the best.
"You must try to get what sleep you can," Prime urged at the last,arranging the nearest blanket-roll for her back-support. "We shall be upagainst it again in the morning, and we both ought to have clear headsand a good, cold nerve. Snuggle down and shut your eyes. I am going todo the same after I've smoked another pipe."
He kept his word, dropping off shortly after the big canoe had entered along straight reach with twinkling lights on either shore to prove thatthe moving world was once more coming within shouting distance. How longhe slept he did not know, but when he awoke the canoe was stopped inmidstream, and was lying stem to stern beside a larger craft, in thehold of which throbbing machinery seemed to be running idle.
Vaguely he gathered the impression that the canoe had been held up bythe motorcraft; then he realized that a fierce altercation was going onbetween a big man who was leaning over the side to grip the gunwale ofthe birch bark and Under-sheriff Macdougal.
"I'll fight it out with you in any court you like, you stubbornblockhead!" Prime heard the big man bellow at Macdougal, and then thecanoe was passed swiftly aft, somebody reached over the side and liftedhim bodily into the cockpit of the motorboat, and a moment later hefound Lucetta beside him, staring wildly and clinging to him as if hewere her only hope.
"Wha-what are they doing to us now?" she quavered, and as she spoke thegrumbling machinery in the depths below roared a louder note, and thebig motor-craft cut a careening half-circle in midstream, leaving thebirch-bark to dance and wabble in the converging area of the furrowingbow wave. By this time Prime had shaken himself fully awake. The twodeck-hands who had pulled him and Lucetta aboard had disappeared, andthe big man who had been bullying Macdougal was at the wheel. There wasa single electric bulb in the centre of the cockpit awning, and by itslight Prime had his first good look at the big steersman.
"_Grider!_" he exploded, taking a step toward the man at the wheel; andat that Miss Lucetta Millington drew herself up icily and turned herback.