The Black Feather | Page 4

but he knew 'Tite Laboise flew through the
gate and past him, and he tried to propitiate her by a look.
"Pig!" she projected at him like a missile, and he sat down on the
ground between the guards who were trying to hold him up and wept
copiously.
"I didn't want to have trouble with that Charle' Charette and that 'Tite
Laboise," explained Étienne. "And I don't want any black feather. It
was my brother's stomach. On account of my brother's stomach I have
to fight. If they do not let my brother's stomach alone, I will have to kill
the whole brigade."
But Charle' Charette walked into the Fur Company's building feeling
nothing but disdain for the puny stock of St. Martin, as he held out his
arm and let the blood drip from a little wound that stained his calico
shirt-sleeve. The very neips around his ankles seemed to tingle with
desire to kick poor Étienne.
It was not necessary to send for the surgeon of the fort. Robert Stuart

dressed the wound, salving it with the rebukes which he knew
discipline demanded, and making them as strong as his own enjoyment
had been. He promised to break the head of every voyageur in the yard
with a board if another quarrel occurred. And he pretended not to see
the culprit's trembling wife, that little besom whose caprices had set the
men by the ears ever since she was old enough to know the figures of a
dance, yet for whom he and Mrs. Stuart had a warm corner in their
hearts. She had caused the first fracas of the season, moreover. He went
out and slammed the office door, ordering the men away from it.
"Bring me yon Étienne St. Martin," commanded Mr. Stuart, preparing
his arsenal of strong language. "I'll have a word with yon carl for this."
The noise of the one-sided conflict could be heard in the office, but
'Tite remained as if she heard nothing, with her head and arms on the
desk. Her husband took up the cap with the black feather, which he had
thrown off in the presence of his superior. He rested it against his side,
his elbow pointing a triangle, and waited aggressively for her to speak.
The back of her pretty neck and fine tendrils of curly hair ruffled above
it were very moving; but his heart swelled indignantly.
"'Tite Laboise, why did you shut the door in my face when I came back
to you after a year's absence?"
She answered faintly, "Me, I don't know."
"And dance with Étienne St. Martin until I am obliged to whip him?"
"Me, I don't know."
"Yes, you do know. You have concealments," he accused, and she
made no defence. "This is the case: you run to the dock to see the boats
come in; you are joyful until you watch me step ashore; I look for 'Tite;
her back is disappearing at the corner of the street. Eh bien! I say, she
would rather meet me in the house. I fly to the house. My wife refuses
to see me."
'Tite made no answer.

"What have I done?" Charle' spread his hands. "My commandant has
no complaint to make of me. It is Charle' Charette who leads on the
trail or breaks a road where there is none, and carries the heaviest pack
of furs, and pulls men out of the water when they are drowning; it is
Charle' Charette who can best endure fasting when the rations run low,
and can hunt and bring in meat when other voyageurs lie exhausted
about the camp-fire. I am no little lard-eater from Canada, brother to a
man with a stomach having no lid. Look at that." Charle' shook the
decorated cap at her. "I wear the black feather of my brigade. That
means that I am the best man in it."
His wife reared her head. She was like the wild sweet-brier roses which
crowded alluvial strips of the island, fragrant and pink and bristling.
"Yes, monsieur, that black feather--regard it. Me, I am sick of that
black feather. You say I have concealments. I have. All winter I go
lonely. The ice is massed on the lake; the snow is so deep, the wind is
keener than a knife; I weep for my husband away in the wilderness,
believing he thinks of me. Eh bien! he comes back to Mackinac. It is as
you say: I fly to meet him, my breath chokes me. But my husband,
what does he do?" She looked him up and down with wrathful eyes.
"He does not see 'Tite. He sees nothing but that black feather in his cap
that he must take off and show to Monsieur Ramsay Crooks and
Monsieur Stuart--while