Annette, The Metis Spy | Page 8

to listen to the people's wrongs; and to enquire into the doings of Governor Tewtney; but it is a fact that he actually went asleep in his chair, while the delegates were stating their case. Instead of making enquiry into the grievances, he hastily packed his trunks and went away to England to obtain a knighthood, which had been promised to him. While he was running back and forth between his lodgings and Downing street, the officials here were laying upon our backs the last weight that our endurance could bear."
While he was speaking there suddenly arose, outside, a jingling of bells, and a clashing of cymbals; and looking through the window father and daughter beheld a numerous band of painted Indians advancing, brandishing tomahawks, and singing war songs.
"I hope these savages will not make a bungle of things," the Colonel said; "I wonder who has started them upon the war-path?" Then going to the door he raised his voice.
"Where go my friends the Crees?"
The chief, a tall and magnificent savage, put his finger on his lips and advanced:
"Me speak inside with the colonel. Chief Louis Riel has ordered our braves to surround the Hickory Bush, when the moon rises. Captain Stephens, police spy, and heap of other spies there. Take em all and put em in wigwam a long way off. Mebbe shoot em. Tall Elk comes to see if Great Colonel would like to come too."
"Thank you, chief; I would rather not be at the capture of Captain Stephens. You know he saved la Reina here, from being drowned in the whirlpool."
The "Queen" was the name by which Annette was known among all the Indians and Metis that lived upon the plain. "But," continued the Colonel, "I hope that Tall Elk and his braves will do no harm to Stephens. He is not with us, but he is a brave, good man, and love our people. In acting against us he is only doing his duty."
"Ugh! It is well," grunted the chief. "Will look after Stephens myself."
But this assurance did not satisfy Annette, who stood, during the dialogue, with throbbing heart and pale cheek. The threats of the Rebel Chief still lingered in her ear; and she knew that her deliverer's life would not be safe in the hands of the terrible man. She said naught, but a bold resolution passed like a flame through her brain. In a little while the chief departed, and at the head of his painted warriors struck out across the dark prairie in the direction of Hickory Bush. The Bush was about twelve miles distant, and the rising of the moon would be in two hours.
In a little while the girl said, "Papa, I am so disturbed to-night that I cannot sit up with you as long as usual: good-night." Then she kissed her father who caressed her silken hair; and she left the room.
Now, Annette had as a companion or attendant, an orphan girl, named Julie. She was not tall and graceful like Annette, but her olive face was stained with delicate carnation, and her little mouth resembled a rose just about to open. She was intelligent, active and affectionate; and the great aim of her existence was to serve a mistress whom she almost adored.
"Come to me, Julie," Annette whispered as she passed the girl.
"Well, mademoiselle, what can Julie do?"
"Captain Stephens, as you are aware, ma petite Julie, is to be captured to-night by those savages who have just left our house. Monsieur Riel hates my deliverer, and I shudder to think that he should fall into his hands. I mean to-night to warn him of his danger.
"Brava!" exclaimed the girl; "c'est bon! It is so like my brave mistress. Ah, mademoiselle, I have seen Monsieur le Chef look upon you; and there was great love in his eye. But it was not the good, the holy kind. Ah! It was bad. He hates le Capitaine, because he saved you from the chute.
"Ah, then my little Julie, you know? Yes, it is all as you say; and this is why my heart flutters so for the fate of Monsieur Stephens. I want my bay saddled and led quietly out to the poplar bush; and I shall come there in a little."
Julie kissed the forehead of her mistress, and then tripped away daintily and softly as a fawn to do the bidding.
Before ten minutes had elapsed, an Indian boy, of lithe and graceful figure, walked swiftly down the path toward the bush. As he reached the little grove, another figure emerged from the shadow and said in a low tone:
"Tres bien!" This was Julie, and the Indian boy was Annette, disguised so perfectly that her father could not have guessed the truth were he standing by. She wore a buff coat