Crawford faced them, yet saw them not. He was spent, and knew it well, and queer visions came whirling at him as he reeled, dazed and battered. He saw the face of Iberville greet him with one flashing smile ere it faded; he saw Moses Deakin, wide-nostriled, glaring upon him as the shade of Aias glared balefully upon the crafty Odysseus; he saw the faces of dead men whom he had known in other days, drawing in upon him, fading, passing away. And as he stood there, leaning dazedly upon the hangar, the Star of Dreams came out from his shirt and swayed. Sight of that green jewel halted the indrawing circle of men, halted them in sheer astonishment, held them staring for an instant. Then Crawford’s vision cleared. He saw one wild ruffian heave up a fusil to drive down upon him—and with a laugh he whirled the hangar and sent it hurtling point first into the ruffian’s breast.
Then they closed in upon him as he swayed, empty-handed. As they came, it seemed to him that he saw the face of Frontin, and heard the voice of Frontin ringing wildly in his ears. He took it for a welcoming to the other world—the world beyond the horizon—as he went down under the blows.
CHAPTER V
IT IS ONLY BY CROOKED LANES THAT ONE GAINS THE HIGHWAY
On the shore of that landlocked harbour at the mouth of the Danish river, where after another snow or two was to rise the palisaded front of Fort Churchill, was now being enacted a curious scene before the astonished and startled eyes of the assembled redskins, who had held their places only from a sense of dignity—and because they had nowhither to run.
Lying bound at the water’s edge were six men—all that remained from the company of the wrecked ship in the shallows. The others lay as they had fallen, from the savage attack of those men who came bursting from the trees—Frontin and Sir Phelim Burke, with those who followed them. Crawford, helped by two of his men, doused the icy water over face and head, cleared his eyes and rose, and gripped the hands of his friends.
“A miracle!” he said. “You say Serigny captured the corvette? What miracle——”
“Devil a bit of it,” exclaimed Phelim Burke. “We saw that canoe of yours heading north along the coast—Frontin declared that he recognized you, through the glass. So Serigny gave us a boat and we came after you. Did ye not hear the gun fired?”
“Serigny—gave you a boat?” Crawford stared hard.
“He wanted the corvette, would not give it up,” said Frontin, frowning a little. “My faith, he meant to hang the lot of us offhand! But I had a talk with him.” For one instant, the cynical visage of the man was clouded by an unwonted embarrassment. “You comprehend, cap’n, in another day and another world, I likewise had another name. Well, to the devil with all explanations! Facts are facts. I talked with Serigny, and though he’d not give up the corvette he gave us a boat, so there we were—and here we are. We landed where you did, followed your trail, and got here in time to put some shot into those rascals.”
Crawford nodded. His head was clear enough now, and he perceived that instant action was needed. Ignoring his hurts for the moment, he forced himself to stride across the sand to where the circle of chieftains waited. They stared at him, at the blazing star hanging on his breast; and when he sat down and addressed them in French, they also sat down and listened.