There could be no doubt that he had been sent across the river to get some idea of the strength of the American forces in that area, so the Colonel was in no mood to show him mercy; but he did agree to grant a reprieve until a Catholic priest could be brought up from St. Regis to hear the man's confession.
Roger then said, 'That may take a week or more, Sir. In the meantime would you allow me to take charge of him? As a servant he could relieve my wife for a while of some of the menial tasks, to which she is unaccustomed. Moreover, since he must know a good deal about the territory in this neighbourhood, I have no doubt that he would be willing, out of gratitude, to help me with my surveying.'
The Colonel considered for a moment. As the Brooks were supposed to be Americans, they had agreed when leaving New York that Mary should be known as Mrs. Brook instead of Lady Mary. But on his visits to the Mess Roger had casually mentioned that he had been a friend for many years of Gouverneur Morris, and named several other prominent New Yorkers he had met while a guest of the van Wycks. In consequence the Colonel had come to regard him as a man with influence, whose wishes it would be wise to humour. Looking up, he said:
'Mr. Brook, realising that your wife is a lady of quality, I should have liked to provide her with a servant. But to do so would have been unfair to the wives of my officers, who have to fend for themselves. However, I see no reason why you should not have the use of this man while he remains with us. In the daytime, of course, you will be armed, so could shoot him if he attempts to escape. But what of the nights? I have no other prisoners as yet, every room in the fort is occupied, and I am loath to spare men to stand guard over him in a cabin.'
Roger swiftly countered that by saying, 'If he is given back his furs, Sir, he is used to sleeping in the open. He would be as much a prisoner if he dosses down within the compound as he would be in a cell, for without help he could not possibly climb out over the palisade.'
So the matter was settled. The thongs that bound the Indian's hands behind his back were cut, upon which he knelt down before Mary and kissed the hem of her fur robe in gratitude. His furs were brought to him and, as night had now fallen, a soldier took him to a place alongside the palisade where he could sleep. Then Roger and Mary returned to their cabin to eat a cold supper.
Next morning they collected Leaping Squirrel from the compound, gave him the theodolite to carry and set off on their daily walk along the cliff. When they had covered a couple of miles, Roger pointed to a small mound from which anyone approaching could be seen from a distance, and said, 'Now, let's sit down there and talk.'
When they were all seated, he addressed Leaping Squirrel in French. 'You realise that, within a week at most, one of the Fathers will have come up from St. Regis, and that when you have made your confession there will be no way in which you can secure a further respite from being hanged?'
The Indian gravely inclined his head. ‘I accept that. Leaping Squirrel was told before he started on the trail that if he fell into a snare his end would be as that of a robbing stoat dangling from a tree. To you, noble ones of the Americani, Leaping Squirrel is grateful for these few extra days of life.'
'We are not Americani,' said Roger quietly. 'My wife and I are Englesi.'
The dark eyes of the Indian suddenly lit up. 'Then Leaping Squirrel is not the enemy of the noble ones, but their little brother.'
Roger nodded. 'Yes. We three are as one people. My wife and I are very anxious to get to Canada, but we cannot find a way to cross the river. By showing us a way you can not only earn our gratitude, but save your own life.'
No longer impassive, the Indian spread wide his hands, bowed his fine head then exclaimed joyfully, 'Noble ones, the Lord Jesus sent you to Leaping Squirrel. You are to him as the hand of the Father when He held it over Daniel in the lion's den. Leaping Squirrel will lead you to Canada. But the trail is long. Three sleeps from here. No, four or more for the tender feet of the gracious lady, before we can cross the rushing water.'
'No matter,' Roger smiled. 'And the sooner we are on our way, the better. We will start tonight.'
The Indian's face fell. 'How is that possible, noble one? Leaping Squirrel is a captive. He sleeps within the stockade.'
'We will get you out. It means running a certain risk, but with a little luck it can be done. Fortunately, the moon is in its last quarter, so the stockade will be in semi-darkness; and you must pick a place in which to sleep where the shadow from one of the blockhouses will conceal you. I'll then throw a rope over to you so that you can haul yourself up and get over the palisade.'
'But what then, noble one? When it is found that Leaping Squirrel has escaped, Indian trackers will be sent after him. Given a few hours' start, he could outdistance them. What, though, of the gracious lady? She could not travel at such speed. After our first sleep, at best our second, they would catch up with us.'
That most unpleasant possibility had not occurred to Roger. As he looked anxiously at Mary, she said:
'It is a chance we must take. Unless we do, in a few days' time a priest will arrive from St. Regis to hear Leaping Squirrel's confession, and then he will be hanged. Besides, I am stronger than I look.'
Roger smiled. 'That's true, my love; and you are right about Leaping Squirrel. If we can get a good start, we should be able to throw any trackers off our scent. There is also the fact that, without a guide, the possibility of our getting across the river seems very slender. I think we should risk it.'
Having taken this decision, they left the mound and went into a nearby neck of the woods, with the object of sleeping through the afternoon, so that they would be able to travel all night without needing to rest. Leaping Squirrel gathered some young branches of sassafras to make a couch for Mary, then they settled down.
Early in the evening, filled with suppressed excitement, ~ they returned to camp. While Mary went to the cabin to cook supper, Roger accompanied Leaping Squirrel into the stockade, and the Indian indicated the spot against the palisade where he would lie in his furs when night came. Roger, while apparently looking unconcernedly about him, counted the number of posts in the palisade from the spot chosen to the south-west corner. Walking out through the sally port he again counted the posts up to the same number, picked up a large stone and put it against the post, so that he could find it easily again; then he went to the Mess, bought a bottle of brandy, had his usual evening drink there, and afterwards rejoined Mary.
When they had had their meal, they packed all the belongings they felt they could not do without, and such food as Mary had been able to get hold of, into two bundles in the canvas of the bivouac under which they had slept on the way up to Fort George; but Roger had first tied the greater part of the ropes by which it was pegged out into one lengh of about eighteen feet.
Having completed these preparations, they had to wait with such patience as they could muster until the hour that had been agreed for Leaping Squirrel's rescue. Fortunately, the garrison at French Mills kept early hours.
One by one the lights in the other cabins went out, then they doused theirs and sat on the hard bed, with their arms about each other, occasionally kissing or talking in low voices. The time of waiting seemed interminable, although they had decided that, to get as long a start as possible, they would make the attempt as soon as it could reasonably be assumed that the officers and men who lived in the stockade were asleep. At length, at about eleven o'clock, Roger felt that they must risk everything to carry out their plan.
Each of them took a bundle and Roger, in addition, threw over his shoulder the rope he had made and the straw palliasse from the bed. Walking as quietly as they could, they made their way along the track through the wood until it ended a hundred yards or so from the fort. There, in the shadow of the last trees, Roger left Mary with the two bundles and continued on toward the stockade.