Rogers never called upon his men in vain. No service was too full of peril for them. Ignorant as they were of the number or power of their assailants, they dashed in a compact body out of the side gate towards the place where the glare of the fire illumined the darkness of the night.
Dark forms were hurrying hither and thither; but the moment the Rangers appeared with their battle cry, there was an instant rout and flight.
"After them!" shouted Rogers; and the men dashed over the rough ground, pursuers and pursued, shouting, yelling, firing--and they saw that some bolder spirits amongst the Frenchmen had even set fire to the sloop on the stocks which Rogers had been teaching the soldiers how to construct.
But in the forefront of the pursuit might be seen one wild, strange figure with flying hair and fiery eyes. He turned neither to the right hand nor to the left, but ran on and on in a straight line, keeping one flying figure ever in view.
The flying figure seemed to know that some deadly pursuit was meant; for he, too, never turned nor swerved, but dashed on and on. He gained the frozen lake; but the treacherous, slippery ice seemed to yield beneath his feet. He had struck the lake at the point where it was broken up to obtain water for the fort.
A yell of horror escaped him. He flung up his arms and disappeared.
But his pursuer dashed on and on, a wild laugh escaping him as he saw what had happened. The next minute he was bending down over the yawning hole, and had put his long, strong arm through it into the icy water beneath.
He touched nothing. The hapless man had sunk to rise no more. Once sucked beneath the deep waters of the frozen lake, exhausted as he was, there was no hope for him. Charles cut and hacked at the ice blocks, regardless of his own personal safety; and after long labour he succeeded in moving some of them, and in dragging out the lifeless corpse, already frozen stiff, of the man he had sworn to slay.
The French were flying over the frozen ice, the Rangers in pursuit. They came upon the strange spectacle, and stopped short in amaze. A dead man lay upon the ice of the lake where it was broken and dangerous, his dead face turned up to the moonlight, his hands clinched and stiff and frozen. Beside the corpse sat Charles, his glassy eyes fixed upon the dead face, himself almost as stiff and stark.
They came up and spoke to him; but he only pointed to the corpse.