A WAGER OF FOOLS

"I “IT looks a narrow walk, my friend," he said rather doubtfully, peering forward with shaded eyes, "and 'tis dark as Erebus; yet gladly will I make the venture for hope of the reward."

The door closed behind him, shutting off the last vestige of light; and we, with our eyes accustomed to the gloom, could mark his dim outline as he advanced toward us. His actions belied his words, for he moved with all his accustomed jauntiness along the uncertain foot-way, barely touching the top of the palisades with one hand to guide his progress. He was almost upon the girl before he perceived either of us; and then his earliest words surprised me into silence.

"Ah, Toinette!" he cried eagerly, "I fear I must have kept you waiting over-long; yet I was with Mrs. Helm,—a most fair and charming bride,—and scarce noted the rapid passage of time."

"I naturally supposed it was a woman," she answered, with what I interpreted as a strained assumption of indifference, "as that has ever been your sufficient reason for breaking faith with me."

"Do not interpret it so, I beg," he hastened to implore. "Surely, my being a few moments in arrears is not a matter sufficiently serious to be called a breakage of faith. I do assure you, Toinette, you were never once absent from my thought."

"Indeed?" she exclaimed incredulously, and with an echo of suppressed laughter in her voice. "Then truly you are far more to be commiserated on this occasion than I, for in truth, Monsieur de Croix, I have not missed you over-much. I have enjoyed most excellent company."

"The mysterious spirits of the starry night?" he questioned, looking out into the darkness, "or the dim figures of your own imagination?"

"Very far from either," she retorted, with a laugh; "a most substantial reality, as you are bound to confess. Master Wayland, is it not time for you fitly to greet Captain de Croix? He may deem you lax in cordiality."

I can perceive now how dearly the laughing witch loved to play us one against the other, hiding whatever depth of feeling she may have had beneath the surface of careless innocence, and keeping us both in an uncertainty as aggravating as it was sweet. I could not read the expression upon De Croix's face in the gloom, yet I saw him start visibly at her almost mocking words, and there was a trace of ill-suppressed irritation in his voice.

"Saint Guise! 'Twas for that, then, he left us so mysteriously," he exclaimed, unconsciously uttering his first thought aloud. "But how knew he you were to be here?"

Before she could answer, I spoke, anxious to relieve her of embarrassment; for 'twas ever my nature to yield much without complaint.

"As it chances, Captain de Croix, she did not know," I said, standing back from the palisades where he could see me more clearly. "I left the table below with no thought of meeting Mademoiselle, and came out on this platform for a different purpose. As you know, I am visiting Dearborn upon a special mission."

"Ah, true," and I could feel the trace of relief in his voice as he instantly recalled my story. "You also sought a girl in this wilderness,—may I ask, have you yet found trace of her?"

I heard Mademoiselle move quickly.

"A girl?" she asked in surprise. "Here, at Dearborn?"

"She was at Dearborn until very lately, but they tell me now I must seek for her at the Kinzie house, It was for the purpose of marking its position from the Fort that I came up here."

For a moment no one of our voices broke the strained silence. I was troubled by this knowledge of a pre-arranged meeting between these two, yet felt it was nothing with which I had a right to interfere. This careless French girl, whom I had known for scarcely two days, was not one to be easily guided, even had I either reason or excuse for attempting it.

"'Tis strange," she said, musingly, "that she has never so much as spoken to me about it; yet she was always shy of speech in such matters."

"Of whom do you speak, Toinette?" questioned De Croix.

"Of Master Wayland's young friend with the Kinzies," she answered, the old sprightliness again in her voice. "I know her very well, Monsieur,—a dear, sweet girl,—and shall be only too glad to speed you on to her. Yet 'tis not so easy of accomplishment, hemmed in as we are here now. Yonder is the light, Master Wayland; but much of peril may lurk between. 'Tis not far, were the way clear; indeed, in the old days of peace a rope ferry connected Fort and house, but now to reach there safely will require a wide detour and no little woodcraft. There were patrols of savages along the river bank at dusk, and it is doubtful if all have been withdrawn."

I looked as she pointed, and easily distinguished the one glittering spark that pierced the darkness to the north and east. I wondered at her earlier words; yet they might all be true enough, for I knew nothing of this Elsa Matherson. Before I could question further, De Croix had interfered, eager, no doubt, to be rid of me.

"Upon my soul!" he exclaimed recklessly, "if I could voyage here from Montreal to win but a smile, it should prove a small venture for our backwoods friend to cover yonder small distance. Sacre! I would do the deed myself for one kiss from rosy lips."

I have wondered since what there was about those words to anger me. It must have been their boastful tone, the sarcasm that underlay the velvet utterance, which stung like salt in a fresh wound. I felt that from the summit of his own success he durst laugh at me; and my blood boiled instantly.

"You are wondrous bold, Monsieur," I retorted, "when the matter is wholly one of words. I regret I cannot pledge you such reward, so that I might learn how you would bear yourself in the attempt."

He stared at me haughtily across the shoulder of the girl, as if doubting he heard aright.

"You question my courage to venture it?"

"It has been my experience that the cock that crows the loudest fights the least."

"Oh, hush, Messieurs!" broke in Mademoiselle, her voice showing suppressed amusement. "This platform is far too narrow to quarrel upon; and, besides, the condition of the wager is most easily met,—that is, if my lips be deemed of sufficiently rosy hue."

I know I stood with opened mouth, so astounded by these mocking words as to be stricken dumb; but not so De Croix. The audacity of his nature made eager response to the bold challenge.

"Do you mean what you say, Toinette?" he asked, striving to gain a view of her face in the darkness.

"Do I? And pray, why not?" she questioned lightly. "One kiss is not so very much to give, and I shall never miss it. 'Tis duller here than at Montreal, and no doubt 'twill greatly interest me to witness the race. Surely it will prove a better way to end your foolish quarrel than to shoot each other. But come, Messieurs, why do you hesitate so long? is not the prize enough?"

He bowed gallantly, and took her hand.

"'Twould be the ransom of a king," he answered; "though first I wish to know the terms of this contest more clearly."

She looked out into that silent and lonely night, her eyes upon the distant gleam, and instinctively our glances followed hers. It was a dull desolation, with no sound, no movement, in all the black void. The stars gleamed dull on the water of the river beneath us, and we could dimly see the denser shadow of the opposite shore; beyond this, nothing was apparent save that distant candle flame. What lay between,—what strange obstruction of land, what ambushed foes,—neither of us had means of knowing. We could simply plunge into the mystery of it blindfolded by the fates. Yet to draw back now would brand either of us forever with the contempt of her who had challenged us so lightly.

"'Tis all simple enough," she said at last, her eyes glowing with quick excitement. "The goal is yonder where that light glows so clearly, though I warn you the longest way round may prove the surest in the end. To the one of you who reaches there first and returns here, I am to give one kiss as a measure of reward. I care not how it may be accomplished,—such minor matters rest with your own wits."

"But the young girl we seek," he insisted; "must she also be brought here upon the return?"

"Pish! what care I what may be done with the girl? Besides, she is far safer from the savages there than she would be here."

I saw De Croix lean far out over the sharpened palisades and peer downward. The movement gave me instantly a thought of his purpose, and, unnoticed, I loosened the pistol-belt about my waist and silently dropped it upon the platform. Whatever desperate chance he might choose to take, I was determined now to equal.

"Doth the water of the river come to the very foot of these logs?" he asked, unable to determine in the darkness.

"No, Monsieur, the earth slopes downward for some feet, yet the current is at this bank, and gives much depth of water at the shore."

"But of what width is the strip of earth between?"

"Perhaps the length of a tall man."

"Saint Guise! 'tis well I thought to ask!" he explained jauntily. "And now, Mademoiselle, if you will but kindly hold this coat and sword, I shall strive to show you how highly I value the prize offered, and what a French gentleman can do for love."

I fully grasped his purpose now, and even as he turned toward her, holding out the valuables he hesitated to lose, I scaled the low barrier in my front, planted my feet firmly between the pointed stakes, and sprang boldly into the darkness.