Chapter Fourteen

To Daniel's immense relief, Philip Astley and Old Bet suffered no lingering effects from their adventure with the Lenni Lenape.

They continued on their way until they had placed at least five miles between themselves and the Indian village before making camp for the night. Philip took great pains to make sure that Old Bet was securely chained before bedding down himself. Daniel made doubly sure, checking for himself.

During the late afternoon and early evening, Philip could often be heard chuckling, "Eat the baby! H'i never!"

Daniel snared and skinned a rabbit for their evening meal. Old Bet blissfully stripped the leaves off the tree she was chained to. Philip had managed at last to learn how to build a fire with a flint and steel, and had brought a large pile of wood for the fire.

When the rabbit was cooked, and the two had eaten their fill, Philip pulled a pipe from nowhere and stuffed it full of tobacco. He lit it with a twig from the fire and settled back comfortably. Daniel decided there was no time like the present.

"Reckon I won't ask how you managed to find the Delaware," Daniel began drily.

"H'i was minding my own business, calling for Bet . . ." the Englishman began.

"Philip," Daniel shook his head, "an animal the size of Bet leaves a trail a blind man or a fool could foller. There ain't no need for you to go traipsin' through the woods singin' out – you're lucky it was Delaware that caught us. The Delaware're more tolerant of white settlers, as a rule. If'n it'd been Shawnee, you might be missin' your hair. And your elephant!"

Philip shifted in his place uneasily. Daniel decided to throw him a crumb, "You ain't done badly. You managed to make it from Salem to Boonesborough all alone. I reckon we ain't more than a couple, two or three days behind Ricketts and his people. You reckon you're ready to tell me the real reason you're tailin' him? Aside from helpin' me rescue Mingo and Tommy, I mean? It worked out real nice for you that I was goin' your way, anyway, didn't it?"

Philip began to speak, "Friend Daniel . . ."

But Daniel hadn't finished speaking his piece, "That was a real interestin' story you told me about your ring, and how Ricketts stole your act. I've a feelin' there's more to it than that, though."

"H'it's true about my ring," Philip blustered. "You're right enough, though, Daniel; Ricketts stole my 'ole circus!"

Daniel smiled a grim smile, "Thought so. I've always heard confession is good for the soul, Philip. What say you go ahead and start talkin'?"

Philip looked at Daniel for a long moment. "Known Ricketts for quite a while. Most of what 'e knows, 'e learned from my school in Lambeth. H'ive been lucky, H'i 'ave. Found a diamond ring on London Bridge worth 60 pounds. Sold h'it and bought one of my first 'orses. Did a favor for King George. 'E gave me 100 pounds too. My dear wife Patsy and H'i began 'Aypenny 'Atch on that 'undred quid. Started out giving lessons in the mornings, and shows in the h'afternoon. That's where H'i met your friend Mingo. 'E was just a schoolboy, 'im and 'is classmates, sneaking away from Oxford. Some folks, friend Daniel, learn to ride. H'others are just born knowing 'ow. H'i reckon H'im one of them. Ricketts h'is another. Mingo's one of 'em. Took to h'it like a duck takes to swimming. Didn't care about showing off, just loved riding for h'its own sake. Ricketts, though, was born an ambitious coxcomb. 'E'd like to think 'e's the best in the world. A case of the student surpassing the master." He grinned suddenly. "'E'll never be better than me; h'it's more than talent that makes a fellow great."

Daniel nodded. He understood completely what Philip meant. Ricketts' performance was great, but mechanical, without heart. Daniel was looking forward to seeing what Astley might be capable of.

"There's more to your tale," Daniel prodded.

"Right. H'i 'ad plans to pick up some performers in New Orleans. Then H'i 'eard about Old Bet being offered for sale in Salem. H'elephants ain't easy to come by, friend Daniel. H'i decided then and there, that H'i'd better get off the ship in Salem and see for myself. Ricketts was supposed to 'elp me get a show started 'ere in the Colonies. Perhaps when 'e got to New Orleans, 'e thought h'it was as good a time as any to go h'into business for 'imself! With my performers!"

"You said he was kin to General Washington," Daniel reminded Philip. "I don't reckon the general'd cotton to any of his kinfolks lowerin' theirselves to kidnappin' and skulduggery."

"H'it's a very distant connection," Philip assured him. "Per'aps after this, your general will make h'it even more distant!"

Daniel laughed, and Philip continued, "As H'i told you, Ricketts was a student of ours in Lambeth. We'd discussed setting up an H'American circus together. Been communicating with these aerialists h'in New Orleans for months. Well, they needed to leave New Orleans quickly. H'i never did learn why – but they didn't want to wait for us to arrive from Salem h'overland with Bet, so Ricketts went ahead. 'Eard rumors floating around that 'e'd pulled a fast one – when we came to Boonesborough, H'i did want to see Kerr - that part was true - but you confirmed for me that h'it wasn't just rumors H'i'd been 'earin'. So now, Daniel, Ricketts 'as my circus, and Mingo and the boy giant. 'E 'olds all the cards."

Daniel smiled humorlessly, "I ain't a card playin' man, Philip, but I reckon I've got an ace or two up my sleeve."

It was very late when Mingo awoke. The dark night sky was full of stars, and for a moment he was unsure of exactly where he was and how he came to be leaning up against a tree. He sat staring up at the sky, trying to get his bearings. A tiny flame flared up from the bowl of the pipe his companion smoked.

LeBrun spoke, "So the witch did not poison you, mon ami. You are feeling better?"

Mingo nodded warily. He did feel better. "Where is the boy?"

"He wears his heart upon his sleeve, that one," LeBrun astonished Mingo again by smiling broadly. "He is eating the evening meal in the company of La Beard, and Victorine. He is quite well. La Beard has a soft spot for him. And he has a warm heart for Victorine."

LeBrun rose to his feet, went to the still-burning fire, and came back with a bowl of food, which he handed to Mingo. "You think you can eat?"

Mingo nodded again, and accepted the bowl with thanks. LeBrun pulled a spoon out of his coat pocket and passed it over.

"La Beard has left instructions that you are to take more of her witch's brew when you retire. Ricketts has ordered that you and the boy must be locked back in the wagon. I find that I am not of a mind to enforce foolish rules tonight."

Mingo took a bite of stew, and chewed before answering. "I appreciate your restraint, Baptiste. May I call you that?"

LeBrun nodded, "'Baptiste' is fine. I do not have the heart to force a child of nature into such a small, hot space. Especially when you have suffered already at my hands."

Mingo looked surprised, and LeBrun shrugged. "It was an unfair blow and I am sorry for it. I do not doubt, Monsieur Mingo, that you could make mincemeat of Baptiste LeBrun had you the mind to. It is important that I appear to be Monsieur Ricketts' loyal man. As long as you continue to play l'imbécile, you are safe from his plans for you."

Mingo's chagrin at being caught out showed plainly on his face, and LeBrun grinned again. "You are a very good actor, mon ami. Victorine does not suspect you, nor does La Beard. Ricketts is too conceited to notice anyone but himself. Besides, I think you were almost as ill as you pretended to be."

LeBrun sat quietly, smoking his pipe, saying no more until Mingo had finished the stew. He rose quickly to his feet, and extended a hand to assist Mingo to his feet. "Walk with me, Monsieur Mingo. I did not like to wake you while you slept, but if Ricketts sees us talking, he will wonder why I have not locked you back in the wagon. Wrap the blanket around your shoulders. The air is chill."

Mingo staggered as he walked, and LeBrun put an arm around his waist to steady him, "You are not so healthy as you would wish. You still have the fever, I think."

The man's arm was like iron, Mingo noted. His steps were steadier; he did feel better after the long rest and some food. LeBrun led him quickly into the woods away from the encampment. They walked for perhaps five minutes deeper into the woods. A small brook could be heard gurgling and LeBrun led him to it. He helped Mingo lower himself to the ground near the water.

LeBrun spoke, "As long you are not seen, Monsieur Ricketts will believe you are safely locked in Victorine's wagon. You would not mind sleeping the night away under the stars? I am to guard you – it makes no difference to me whether you are confined or not. I do not think you are in the condition to overpower me and escape. And the boy is still with La Beard."

Mingo splashed water onto his face, and dried it on the corner of the blanket before speaking. "What do you wish to discuss with me, Baptiste?"

"I believe Victorine told you something of our circumstances?" LeBrun began. Mingo nodded, and the man continued, "It is true: I did kill a man in New Orleans. Did you know, mon ami, that La Nouvelle-Orléans is renowned for its gambling?"

Mingo nodded again, and LeBrun continued, "I engaged in what I thought was an honest game of chance, only to become the dupe of a charlatan. He drew a gun. I struck a blow to defend myself only; when he fell, he hit his head and died."

Mingo settled his back comfortably against a tree. "How did you end up with Ricketts? I believe Mademoiselle Rousseau told me, but I do not remember."

"An Englishman, Philip Astley," Mingo's eyes widened here, and LeBrun continued speaking, "knew of our funambule families. Victorine and I were supposed to join him in his new circus in the Colonies. I needed to leave New Orleans quickly, and Victorine wanted to go with me. Monsieur Ricketts told us that he was the emissary for Monsieur Astley, and that he would take us to meet him. Ricketts is not an honorable man, mon ami. He soon discovered just why I was in such haste to leave so quickly. He has since used that against us, holding Victorine and me against our will. He threatens to have me thrown in gaol. He finds the weakness in everyone and uses it to hold them hostage. La Beard fancies herself a healer; she killed someone with her witch's brews. He threatens the boy, Tommy, that he will sell you, Monsieur Mingo, into slavery if the boy tries to leave. He knows you will not leave without the boy. Ricketts does not intend to join Astley. He will mount his own circus with Monsieur Astley's troupe as performers"

Mingo fiddled with a pile of small stones and twigs while he listened to LeBrun's narration. He casually turned the stones this way and that, finally piling them into a small cairn. LeBrun paid no attention.

The air was growing chill. Mingo wrapped the blanket more tightly around him. "What do you think I can accomplish, Baptiste, that you have not been able to do?"

LeBrun smiled suddenly. "The boy has been riding with me on the box while Victorine has tended to you. He prattles of 'Mr. Boone'. You, mon ami, murmur of 'Daniel' in your delirium. Victorine and I have put our heads together. The two of you speak of the great Daniel Boone, do you not? You sat on the blanket of Boone when we performed in Boonesborough. You are his great friend, non?"

"Daniel is my friend," admitted Mingo. He was not prepared for LeBrun's reaction to his words. LeBrun seized him by the shoulders and shook him happily.

"Do you not see? The great Daniel Boone will come for you and the boy. We shall all be rescued!"