Dawn on a Distant Shore
Page 41
High time to be away.
In the chaos of so many rushing bodies it took a full minute to get to the side gate and push through. Luke led now. He ran into the city, ducking into a maze of narrow back alleys. Without breaking his stride, the boy stripped off his uniform jacket and the white shirt underneath it to reveal homespun and a leather jerkin. Finally he dodged into a barnyard and pressed himself into the shadows behind a shed.
The place smelled of burning charcoal and roast meat, new manure and earth recently turned for planting. Opposite them the little farmhouse was dark. There was a slight movement at the only unshuttered window: a hand raised in greeting and then nothing. Pépin. The men stood pressed close together, listening.
Five more minutes, and no explosion.
"They managed it, then," said the boy, with considerable relief. He wiped the sweat from his face.
Hawkeye put a hand on his shoulder. "You took a chance, Luke. Thank you."
"I wasn't alone," he said, barely able to meet his eye. "But you're welcome."
Nathaniel said, "Tell Iona thank you, too. We're in her debt."
"Most are, one way or the other," he said. "But you can tell her yourself."
Iona had appeared at the open door of the barn. She was wrapped in a cloak and carried a small lantern. She gestured to them silently and they slipped inside.
"Iona," said Hawkeye, when they stood in a circle around her.
"Hawkeye." Her tone was as cool and easy as always. "Nathaniel, Robbie. I am so very glad to see you well."
Robbie drew in a sharp breath. "What a daft thing tae do, woman. Ye should ha' stayed awa'." In the meager light of the lantern his expression was haggard with outrage and fear.
She looked at him as she might have looked at a raging child, half affection and half impatience. "I have news that couldn't wait."
They followed her farther into the barn where the air was damp with the heavy, sweet smells of fresh milk and hay. Two cows shifted in their standing sleep. On the far wall there was a rustling from the pigpen. Nathaniel thought of Pink George, who probably already knew they were gone. He said, "We know about Carleton."
The brown eyes met his own. "Of course. But do you know about William Spencer?"
Nathaniel thought he must have misunderstood. Prayed that he had misunderstood. "Will Spencer? Here?"
"Who the hell is Will Spencer?" asked Hawkeye, looking between them.
"Viscount Durbeyfield," supplied Iona. "A man of some importance in England, as I understand it."
Nathaniel said, "He's the one married to Elizabeth's cousin Amanda. A lawyer." He spoke to his father, but his gaze was fixed on Iona. "Otter was supposed to send Runs-from-Bears, not Will Spencer. What is he doing here?"
"I don't know exactly," said Iona. "He didn't come to me. He went to Somerville and the magistrates to plead your case."
"Sassenach gentry wi' their heids tegither," muttered Robbie. "Lord ha' mercy."
"If we're gone there ain't any case to plead," said Hawkeye.
"Listen to me." Iona's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, her gaze drawing them all in. "The scout who brought this Will Spencer to Montréal from Chambly says that he got off a schooner that came up Champlain. There were other passengers. A white woman traveling with a black woman and children, and a Mohawk."
Nathaniel's heart leaped into an erratic rhythm. "Christ above. Elizabeth."
"And Runs-from-Bears," whispered Robbie.
Hawkeye grinned. "By God, she's come up here with Curiosity to break us out of gaol. I don't doubt they would've done it, too, if Iona hadn't beat them to it."
"I should have known," said Nathaniel. "I should have known she wouldn't stay behind." And realized suddenly that he had been expecting this news for weeks now. She had crossed the endless forests for him once before.
"They aren't in Montréal yet," said Iona. "I'm sure of that much."
"They'll be traveling up the Richelieu to Sorel," said Nathaniel. He glanced into the barnyard, where Luke was keeping watch. He could not see the boy, but he could sense him there in the shadows. "If Will just got in today, they won't be on the big river yet, not at this time of year. We'll have to head them off."
Iona nodded. "There's a boat waiting for you. Luke will show you the way. No doubt Somerville realizes you're gone already, so you'd best be off."
"We're in your debt," said Hawkeye, touching her shoulder.
She smiled in the lantern light. "So you are, Dan'l Bonner. I will call that debt home someday."
"I'm worried that Somerville will come after you," Nathaniel said, and saw how at the door Luke's back stiffened. Robbie had a strange look about him, too. But Iona only pressed Nathaniel's arm.
"Somerville is no threat to me," she said calmly. "Rest assured. Now you had best change and be on your way."
"Aye," said Robbie. "But north instead o' south. I fear we may nivver see the end o' Canada."
To Nathaniel's surprise, Iona stepped up to Robbie, and although she was half his size he started. She reached up to take his face between her hands. "Don't talk such rubbish, Rab MacLachlan." Her voice gentled suddenly, touched now with soft Gaelic rhythms. "Keep your eyes and ears open, mo charaid, or Canada will see the end of you."
In the chaos of so many rushing bodies it took a full minute to get to the side gate and push through. Luke led now. He ran into the city, ducking into a maze of narrow back alleys. Without breaking his stride, the boy stripped off his uniform jacket and the white shirt underneath it to reveal homespun and a leather jerkin. Finally he dodged into a barnyard and pressed himself into the shadows behind a shed.
The place smelled of burning charcoal and roast meat, new manure and earth recently turned for planting. Opposite them the little farmhouse was dark. There was a slight movement at the only unshuttered window: a hand raised in greeting and then nothing. Pépin. The men stood pressed close together, listening.
Five more minutes, and no explosion.
"They managed it, then," said the boy, with considerable relief. He wiped the sweat from his face.
Hawkeye put a hand on his shoulder. "You took a chance, Luke. Thank you."
"I wasn't alone," he said, barely able to meet his eye. "But you're welcome."
Nathaniel said, "Tell Iona thank you, too. We're in her debt."
"Most are, one way or the other," he said. "But you can tell her yourself."
Iona had appeared at the open door of the barn. She was wrapped in a cloak and carried a small lantern. She gestured to them silently and they slipped inside.
"Iona," said Hawkeye, when they stood in a circle around her.
"Hawkeye." Her tone was as cool and easy as always. "Nathaniel, Robbie. I am so very glad to see you well."
Robbie drew in a sharp breath. "What a daft thing tae do, woman. Ye should ha' stayed awa'." In the meager light of the lantern his expression was haggard with outrage and fear.
She looked at him as she might have looked at a raging child, half affection and half impatience. "I have news that couldn't wait."
They followed her farther into the barn where the air was damp with the heavy, sweet smells of fresh milk and hay. Two cows shifted in their standing sleep. On the far wall there was a rustling from the pigpen. Nathaniel thought of Pink George, who probably already knew they were gone. He said, "We know about Carleton."
The brown eyes met his own. "Of course. But do you know about William Spencer?"
Nathaniel thought he must have misunderstood. Prayed that he had misunderstood. "Will Spencer? Here?"
"Who the hell is Will Spencer?" asked Hawkeye, looking between them.
"Viscount Durbeyfield," supplied Iona. "A man of some importance in England, as I understand it."
Nathaniel said, "He's the one married to Elizabeth's cousin Amanda. A lawyer." He spoke to his father, but his gaze was fixed on Iona. "Otter was supposed to send Runs-from-Bears, not Will Spencer. What is he doing here?"
"I don't know exactly," said Iona. "He didn't come to me. He went to Somerville and the magistrates to plead your case."
"Sassenach gentry wi' their heids tegither," muttered Robbie. "Lord ha' mercy."
"If we're gone there ain't any case to plead," said Hawkeye.
"Listen to me." Iona's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, her gaze drawing them all in. "The scout who brought this Will Spencer to Montréal from Chambly says that he got off a schooner that came up Champlain. There were other passengers. A white woman traveling with a black woman and children, and a Mohawk."
Nathaniel's heart leaped into an erratic rhythm. "Christ above. Elizabeth."
"And Runs-from-Bears," whispered Robbie.
Hawkeye grinned. "By God, she's come up here with Curiosity to break us out of gaol. I don't doubt they would've done it, too, if Iona hadn't beat them to it."
"I should have known," said Nathaniel. "I should have known she wouldn't stay behind." And realized suddenly that he had been expecting this news for weeks now. She had crossed the endless forests for him once before.
"They aren't in Montréal yet," said Iona. "I'm sure of that much."
"They'll be traveling up the Richelieu to Sorel," said Nathaniel. He glanced into the barnyard, where Luke was keeping watch. He could not see the boy, but he could sense him there in the shadows. "If Will just got in today, they won't be on the big river yet, not at this time of year. We'll have to head them off."
Iona nodded. "There's a boat waiting for you. Luke will show you the way. No doubt Somerville realizes you're gone already, so you'd best be off."
"We're in your debt," said Hawkeye, touching her shoulder.
She smiled in the lantern light. "So you are, Dan'l Bonner. I will call that debt home someday."
"I'm worried that Somerville will come after you," Nathaniel said, and saw how at the door Luke's back stiffened. Robbie had a strange look about him, too. But Iona only pressed Nathaniel's arm.
"Somerville is no threat to me," she said calmly. "Rest assured. Now you had best change and be on your way."
"Aye," said Robbie. "But north instead o' south. I fear we may nivver see the end o' Canada."
To Nathaniel's surprise, Iona stepped up to Robbie, and although she was half his size he started. She reached up to take his face between her hands. "Don't talk such rubbish, Rab MacLachlan." Her voice gentled suddenly, touched now with soft Gaelic rhythms. "Keep your eyes and ears open, mo charaid, or Canada will see the end of you."
