Wilson covered himself up with the sail, and for the next two hours remained quiet in his concealment, awaiting the old Frenchman’s return and wondering where he was, and why he stayed away so long. Coulte made his appearance at last, and he came alone, too; but his actions indicated that there was some one behind him whom he was expecting every moment. He walked nervously up and down the porch, stopping every moment or two to gaze at the woods and to run his eyes suspiciously around the clearing, as if fearful that there might be some one approaching whom he did not care to see. Wilson, whose curiosity was aroused, began to watch the woods also, and presently discovered Pierre and Chase approaching. He kept his gaze fastened on them as they walked past the corn-crib into the house, and when Coulte and his son, after confining Chase in the cellar, seated themselves in the doorway to hold their consultation, Wilson listened eagerly, and was greatly disappointed because he was too far off to hear what they said. He was frightened, indeed, when he saw Pierre arise from his seat and approach the crib, but supposing that he wanted some corn for his horse, and that when he got it he would go away again, he drew the sail over his head and held fast to it to keep the wind from blowing it off. Pierre seized the mast and gave a pull at the sail, but could not start it.
“What’s the matter here?” he growled, twisting the mast about and turning it over as if he thought it had caught against the side of the crib.
“If I let go and he lifts up the sail, it will be all over with me,” soliloquized Wilson; and the thought frightened him, and he held on with more determination than ever. “Why don’t he get his corn and clear out?”
But Pierre wanted something besides corn. He wanted the sail, and he was determined to have it, too. After a few unsuccessful attempts to lift it from the corn he grew surprised and angry, and throwing all his strength into his arms he gave a quick jerk and pulled the canvas out of Wilson’s grasp. The latter gave himself up for lost, and was very much amazed as well as relieved when he heard Pierre close the door and go back down the ladder. He could scarcely realize that he had escaped, until he saw him and his father disappear in the woods on their way to the bayou where the pirogue lay.
CHAPTER XI.
THE SIEGE.
“I’ve learned something,” said Wilson, as soon as he had satisfied himself that Pierre and his father had really left the clearing; “and that is that a Creole can’t see after twelve o’clock. I can’t account for his blindness in any other way. Now, the next thing is to find Chase. He’s somewhere in that house, and I will get him out if I have to burn it over his head.”
Talking thus to himself, Wilson scrambled over the corn to the door, and there encountered an obstacle. The door was fastened on the outside with a hasp and a wooden pin, and the openings between the logs were so narrow that he could not get his arm through to take the pin out. After several ineffectual attempts to reach the fastenings, he threw himself flat on his back and sent both his heavy boots against the door with all his strength; but finding that it resisted his efforts, and that he was wasting his breath to no purpose, he jumped up and turned his attention to the roof. The rafters, which were saplings three inches in diameter, were placed about two feet apart and covered with narrow oak boards, laid on like shingles, and held in position by small nails. A few determined kicks scattered the boards right and left; and when he had made an opening sufficiently large to admit his shoulders, he thrust his head out and looked about him. He could see nobody (that, however, was no evidence that there was no one in sight), and believing that his movements were unobserved, he clambered out of the opening, slid down the roof to the eaves, and dropped to the ground. A few hasty steps brought him to the porch, and a few more to the wide hall which ran through the building. He did not waste time in trying the door, for he knew that Coulte had locked it and put the key in his pocket, but ran at once to a ladder which led to a loft over one of the rooms. Ascending to the top with the agility of a squirrel, he threw off one of the loose boards which formed the floor of the loft, and looked down into the room below. When his eyes rested on the articles that had been piled on the trap-door, he knew where to look for his friend.