There was no sign of life at the house, though the guide called:

"Jacques--Jacques!"

"Where can he have got to? Enter, monsieur, and I will find the man who has the skins."

Allen, followed by the others, entered the house, which seemed to consist of one room and an extension kitchen downstairs, and a room upstairs.

In a few minutes a man dressed in a red shirt entered, and said his brother had sent him to entertain them, as he would be detained getting some skins he believed the messieurs wanted.

Everything seemed so quiet and innocent that even Eben was inclined to think he had been unjustly suspicious.

But while Jacques chattered--and he did so rattle along that it was quite impossible for anyone to get in a word--there was a movement outside which was ominous had Allen but known it.

Jacques was telling a hunting story and raised his voice at a most exciting point, when the door was quickly opened and a dozen soldiers from the neighboring garrison sprang into the room and demanded the surrender of the party.

It was impossible to decline the unpleasant invitation, for at each head was a pistol.

As Allen raised his head and looked at the door, he saw the pseudo guide, grinning like a hyena, and in a voice which was very English the man emphasized his laugh by saying:

"Ha, ha, ha! trapped! I have followed Ethan Allen all the way from Ticonderoga, and waited until I could be sure he would be hanged. Now I denounce him as a spy!"

CHAPTER XXV.

DIPLOMACY.

"You denounce me?"

"Yes, I say that you are Ethan Allen, the man who surprised the garrison at Ticonderoga."

"Am I to understand that these soldiers have listened to the ravings of a creature like you?"

The sergeant in command of the squad saluted Allen, and replied:

"I am compelled to obey orders. This man reported that he could lead into ambush one Ethan Allen, and I was detailed to effect his arrest."

"Sergeant, I acknowledge that you have a duty to perform, but cannot a merchant pa.s.s through Canada without being suspected of being a spy?"

"With that I have nothing to do; I must ask you to surrender."

"The asking is compulsion. With a pistol at each head, how can we do anything else but surrender?"

Allen wished to delay surrender as long as possible, for he was a firm believer in the doctrines of possibility, and a chance of escape might present itself.

The sergeant laughed at Allen's question.

"It does look like surrender or death, but my orders were to take Ethan Allen, dead or alive."

"Is he then so much feared?"

"If you are Ethan Allen it may be some consolation to know that he is hated by the British authorities more than any man who has joined the American rebels; and if you are not Ethan Allen, as I hope you are not, then you may know that it is a great honor to be mistaken for such a rebel."

"Logical, very. We are merchants in search of skins of a very peculiar shade of color. We work for a customer who is willing to pay largely for such skins--dyed ones will not do--and this fellow pretended that he was French, could not speak English, and told my trapper that he knew where we could get the skins. In all trust we followed. Now I ask you: Is it likely that this Ethan Allen would allow himself to be entrapped?"

"No, you are right; but I am not the judge, and you will have to go to Sabrevous and see the colonel."

"That will take time, and I am anxious to get the skins. I will make you a proposition: I will go with you to Sabrevous, but this man must go with me, and as a prisoner, for I have charges to make against him which will cause him to be hanged. My friends must go free to search for the skins."

"I cannot accept the offer--all must go."

"But you said you were to arrest Ethan Allen; now, we cannot all be Ethan Allen, and I am the one accused."

Allen knew just as well as the officer that all must surrender, but he wanted to confuse the Englishman, and perhaps find a way of escape.

"I am very sorry, but if you are Allen, the party with you may be also wanted. I must demand the surrender of all."

"Before I surrender I demand the arrest of that man."

"What for?"

"Murder!"

The informer almost shrieked as he heard the charge. His knees trembled, the blood left his cheeks, and he looked a most guilty wretch.

"Look at him," Allen exclaimed. "Tell me, is he not guilty?"

"I did not do it. He--he shot himself."

"And you took the skins. Ah, my fine friend, Frenchman or Canadian, you may well tremble. England does not accept the services of murderers. You sought to save yourself by denouncing me. Your trick has failed. I shall not surrender on the accusation of a murderer. I will give my parole to appear against you on your trial."

"You refuse to surrender?" asked the sergeant, in amazement.

"If my accuser was a man of honor instead of a murderer I should bow to fate, but unless you have some one to accuse me who is not tainted I shall resist you, and if I fall my family will hold you accountable for my death."

The sergeant was in a quandary.

He had been ordered to arrest Ethan Allen, and here was a man who had put him to the proof. The only accuser was one whose word was of no account, for he was a self-confessed murderer.

"Are you Ethan Allen?" the sergeant asked, most innocently.

"If you think so arrest me. I shall not answer any questions except before a proper tribunal."

"You are a brave fellow, and I wish there was some one here who knew you."

"I know him!"