This broke the
charm which thralled him and sent through his nerves the bracing
shock that only a soldier can feel when a hint of coming battle
reaches him.
Alice saw the flash in his face.
"Where is Captain Helm? I must see him immediately. Excuse me," he
said, abruptly turning away and looking over the heads of the
people; "yonder he is, I must go to him."
The coureur de bois, Adolphe Dutremble by name, was just from the
head waters of the Wabash. He was speaking to Helm when Beverley
came up. M. Roussillon followed close upon the Lieutenant's heels,
as eager as he to know what the message amounted to; but Helm took
the coureur aside, motioning Beverley to join them. M. Roussillon
included himself in the conference.
After all it was but the gossip of savages that Dutremble
communicated; still the purport was startling in the extreme.
Governor Hamilton, so the story ran, had been organizing a large
force; he was probably now on his way to the portage of the Wabash
with a flotilla of batteaux, some companies of disciplined
soldiers, artillery and a strong body of Indians.
Helm listened attentively to Dutremble's lively sketch, then
cross-questioned him with laconic directness.
"Send Mr. Jazon to me," he said to M. Roussillon, as if speaking
to a servant.
The master Frenchman went promptly, recognizing Captain Helm's
right to command, and sympathizing With his unpleasant military
predicament if the news should prove true.
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