But Orde, a thick slice of bread half-way to his lips, had frozen in an attitude of attentive listening.
Faint, still in the depths of the forest, the wandering morning breeze bore to their ears a sound whose difference from the louder noises nearer at hand alone rendered it audible.
He seized a lantern and returned down the trail, followed eagerly by Newmark and every man in camp.
The men drew a little to one side, watching the dim line of the forest, dark against the paling sky. Shadows seemed to stir in its blackness. They heard quite distinctly the clink of metal against metal. A man rode out of the shadow and reined up by the fire. “Halt!” commanded a harsh voice. The rivermen could make out the troops--three or four score of them--standing rigid at attention. Reed, afoot now in favour of the commanding officer, pushed forward.
“Who is in charge here?” inquired the officer crisply.
“I wish to inquire, sir, if you have gone mad to counsel your men to resist civil authority?”
“I have not resisted civil authority,” replied Orde respectfully.
“The reports have been false. The sheriff of this county has arrested about twenty of my men single-handed and without the slightest trouble.”
“It sure is. Never had so little fuss arrestin' rivermen before in my life.”
The officer's face turned a slow brick-red. For a moment he said nothing, then exploded with the utmost violence.
“Then why the devil am I dragged up here with my men in the night?” he cried. “Who's responsible for this insanity, anyway? Don't you know,” he roared at Reed, who that moment swung within his range of vision, “that I have no standing in the presence of civil law? What do you mean getting me up here to your miserable little backwoods squabbles?”
Reed started to say something, but was immediately cut short by the irate captain.
“I've nothing to do with that; settle it in court. And what's more, you'll have something yourself to settle with the State! About, face! Forward, march!”
The men faded into the gray light as though dissolved by it.
A deep and respectful silence fell upon the men, which was broken by Orde's solemn and dramatic declamation.
“The King of France and twice ten thousand men Marched up the hill, and then marched down again,”