Nine, early morning ~~~

Jim arose early, packed up, mounted up, then returned to the site of the ambush. All the men were gone - long gone, according to the tracks they'd left behind. Jim set out following their trail, passing the spot where Robichaud's plan to feed the yankee to ol' Grand-père had gone so badly awry.

The tracks took him on from there, deeper and deeper into the bayou. Shortly the sound of horses and men warned Jim that he and his horse were no longer alone. He directed Blackjack off the trail and into some underbrush where he waited, listening, to see who was coming.

A group of perhaps two dozen men soon came into view, led by two men on horseback. One of the riders was the scar-faced man whom Jim had met under such pleasant circumstances the day before; he was still riding on Artie's horse Mesa, Jim noted. The other man - compact, husky, his black eyes as dead as the entrance to Hell - no doubt that was the Colonel. He rode at Guidreau's side, barking out orders the man with the scar obviously did not like. West caught only a few words of the conversation before the leader waved a hand at Guidreau and ordered him, "Tell the men!" And as Guidreau reined up to obey, the Colonel rode on without a backward glance.

Guidreau relayed the Colonel's orders to the men to break up into three groups and search specific areas for the yankee. It was the last of the orders that had apparently rubbed the man with the scar raw, for he ended with, "And I am to stay here to wait for the rest of you to find our quarry." This led to a great deal of shocked looks and muttering among the men, terminated by a tremendous growl from Guidreau of, "Cochons! Allez-vous en!" The men then scattered to their work, leaving the fuming Guidreau alone.

He fumed only long enough to be sure that none of the men were left to observe him. Then his face changed, a crafty grin stealing across his features. "Hein! Ce vieux fou! The old fool thinks he is punishing me by forcing me to stay behind. But he has handed me exactly what I want: to be alone!" Chuckling to himself, Guidreau reined the horse about and headed back the way they had all come.

Moments later, West and his horse surreptitiously returned to the trail through the bayou and followed Guidreau.

…

I was washing up the breakfast dishes when, to my surprise, I heard footsteps coming through the house. Grabbing up the heavy cast iron spider, I slipped to the side of the door and waited.

The steps came closer, right up to the door, then stopped. There was a pause, then a voice said, "Chipmunk?"

I sighed - until then, I had not realized I had been holding my breath - and said, "Mon ami! What are you doing?"

He entered the room, spread out his arms, and turned himself in a circle. "Walking," he said brightly. He leaned on his stick and added, "I thought I'd come see you, but when the sound of dish-washing stopped, I figured I'd better announce myself. Good thing, too," he said, nodding at the skillet still clutched in my hand.

"Ah." I shrugged and set it down again. "It is only that you warned me once that Guidreau might try to sneak back to the house."

"And it's good that you remembered the warning. Leave the dishes though, Serafina. It's time for us to go."

"What?" I stared at him, taking him in. Most of the injuries to his face had faded, his eyes were wide-open, bright and brown and clever. He stood straight and tall except for the way he leaned slightly on the walking stick. "Your foot?" I asked.

For answer he strolled around the kitchen. He had a limp still, but scarcely seemed to be bothered by it.

"And your ribs?"

"Still tender, but mostly healed, I think. We can go now. You'll need to pack some food for us."

"But, m'sieur! You are still sick! The fever, the chills…"

He gave me a sheepish glance and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Oh, that. Ah… No offense, Serafina, and I wasn't intending to fool you. But I've been faking the chills and fever for the past two days."

"You… you what?"

"I wasn't trying to fool you," he repeated. "You may or may not have noticed, but Guidreau has been hanging around outside the cell a lot. I continued to show the symptoms of the illness to keep him from realizing that I'm on the mend. The sicker he thinks I am, the better. Makes him overconfident. But I'm well enough to travel now, so I want you to find yourself a poke and fill it up with beans and coffee and anything else you can think of that packs light and cooks up quickly. And take a small pot to cook in, as well as the coffeepot, utensils, you know what I'm talking about. Meanwhile, I'll find some clothes for us…" He paused and eyeballed me. "Probably you can wear some of Louis-le-Maigre's things."

"You are going to steal?"

"Stealing at this point is a very minor matter, Chipmunk. And everything they have is stolen from others, right? Now hurry and get ready. I want us out of here as quickly as possible."

He disappeared back down the hallway, leaving me to obey, which I did. It did not take me long. Once I was done packing, I realized I could hear noises in the rest of the house, including a yelp accompanied by a poorly suppressed oath.

"Are you all right?" I called out to him.

"Yes yes," he replied, an edge of rue in his voice. "Just stay there and wait for me. Don't come into the rest of the house."

I puzzled over that for a moment, then asked, "Why not?"

Suddenly he was in the doorway. "Because I asked you not to," he replied. "I'm preparing a few surprises for le colonel and the men. Here, take these." He passed me the saddlebags and turned to go back to his work. "Oh," he added, pulling something from his pocket. "Look what I found."

He showed me a watch. I glanced at it; to me, it was but a watch like any other. "Yours?" I asked.

He grinned. "Oh yes!" He slipped it back into his pocket, admonished me once more to stay out of the rest of the house, then went back to his preparations. And I, I quickly grew bored with sitting in the kitchen waiting, so I finished washing the dishes.

And now he was back. "Ready? Then let's go." He took my arm and steered me out the door into the yard. But then to my surprise, instead of us leaving the yard, he led me to the stable. At my puzzled look, he laid his finger against his lips. He entered first, made a hasty search of the place, then waved me in as well.

He led me to some bales of hay and bade me hide behind them. "What are we doing?" I whispered as I set down my burdens.

"Waiting for Guidreau."

"Guidreau! Mais… mais pour quoi? Why is he coming? How do you know? And shouldn't we be long gone before he comes?"

"He has my horse, and we need it," said Artémus.

"But what if the rest of the men come too?"

He shook his head. "No, no, he'll be alone. For one thing, he's disobeying le colonel by not waiting for the illness to carry me off. And for another - Guidreau is too proud to ask any help from the others. He'll be alone."

I looked into my friend's eyes and admitted, "I am afraid. Without le colonel here to control him…"

He laid his two hands over both of mine. "Don't worry, Sarah. Serafina. I'll take care of Guidreau. Remember the surprises I said I was preparing inside the house? Don't worry. Now, this is what I want you to do: Wait here and stay quiet. And once Guidreau is inside the house, you go get on Mesa - that's my horse's name - and ride off. Don't worry about me; I'll find you. And make sure to take these with you," he added, nodding at the poke and the saddlebags.

What? Me, ride a horse? By myself? "But I…" I started to object.

He only waved me to silence again. Giving me a pat on the cheek and a big smile, he said to me, "That's my brave girl." He then slipped off through the stable, cracked the door open slightly to watch and listen, then disappeared through the door, leaving me alone.

…

When Guidreau sent the men off to split up in three groups and search for the yankee, one of them joined no group but went off on his own. Louis-le-Maigre slipped away from the rest and into the underbrush, hurrying along parallel to the trail lest he be spotted, scurrying back to the one place he was sure would give him the advantage in finding the yankee. He would be first, he told himself, and win at last le colonel's respect. No more would he be the butt of everyone's jokes!

Ah, he had arrived. This was the tallest tree in this part of the bayou. Agile as a squirrel, he shinnied up the big cypress and looked out over the area. Surely from here he would be able to espy any bit of movement all about!

Bien sûr, there were the other men spreading out in their three groups. How superior he felt to them all for once! Oui, and there was le colonel on his horse, far over there at a clearing. Much closer was Guidreau on his new horse, waiting as he had said for the men to report to him…

Tiens! What was Guidreau doing? The man had turned his horse and was now returning along the trail, heading back the way they had come! Louis watched as the scar-faced man passed near the foot of his tree. What could Guidreau be up to? Should not le colonel be told that his right-hand man was disobeying him?

Louis looked back toward the clearing where he had last seen le colonel, and nearly lost his hold on the tree. Tiens! There! There, slipping out of the underbrush along the other side of the trail, there was the yankee! He, Louis, had found the fugitive! Ah, but Dame Chance was with him today!

The yankee and his big black horse were setting out after Guidreau. For but a moment, Louis entertained the thought of yelling, of attracting all attention to the stranger in their midst. Ah, but what would come of that? Guidreau was closest to the yankee; sans doute he would rush on the man and gain the honor for his capture. But it was Louis who had found the yankee! He did not wish to share that credit with anyone else, least of all with Guidreau! "I shall capture the yankee moi-même," he told himself and began to descend the tree…

CRACK!

Jim glanced up at the sudden noise from above his head and saw falling toward him a small man accompanied by a large cypress branch. Instantly Jim slapped the reins against Blackjack's neck and dug his heels into the stallion's sides, but he didn't have quite enough time to get completely out of the way.

The tree branch missed him.

The man didn't.

Jim took the fall from his horse's back as best he could and came up to his feet again quickly. The ache in his rear told him to expect a bruise there in the near future. He looked around for the man who had dropped from the tree.

Ah, there he was, lying flat on his back and groaning. "That… did not go… as planned…" the fellow muttered. He made an attempt to rise, only to give up and collapse again on his back.

"Where does it hurt?" asked Jim.

"Where does it not?" the man replied.

West knelt by the little fellow and checked him over quickly. "You're a lucky man. You didn't break anything when you landed. Now…" and Jim drew his revolver, "let's have a little chat."

Louis looked at the revolver, then into the eyes of the yankee. "What, uh, what would you like to know, m'sieur?"