The Silver Bullet (10 page)

A great deal of time had passed since then. Jake shifted himself on his horse as he rode along the St. Lawrence, fighting off the sad memories as he steadied himself for the tasks ahead. He decided to promote himself from druggist to doctor – his new cover story would proclaim him a country physician heading to the big city for supplies. Jake, though not specifically trained as a doctor, knew a good portion of medicine from his family’s trade and his own studies of natural philosophy. He could not only fool any soldiers who questioned him: he could probably treat them better than the military quacks at their camps.

The only deficiency in his story was his dress. As the British sergeant had pointed out, he looked a bit too much the gentleman to be the rough traveler. He adjusted his appearance by loosening his shirt and removing the eagle feather stuck in his cap, but a wary mind at the city’s fort could easily find questions for which vague answers would be his only reply.

Which was one reason he didn’t intend on going straight in the front door, at least not tonight. Another was the fact that he was tired and hungry, and it was already quite late. The last, and most important, reason was that he was hoping to renew an old acquaintance.

“
Jesu
– back from the dead!” exclaimed Marie Sacre when she opened the door.

“
Comment vas-tu?
” he replied in a bashful and rusty French.

“
Tres bien
. But my God, I never expected to see you!
Zut!

“
Can a poor traveler enter?”

“
Of course!” Marie’s hair was held back in a simple, almost frontier style, but the thick, smooth material of her mauve-colored dress hinted that she was not merely a plain farmer’s wife. The smooth cotton flattered her shape and at the same time was warm and comforting.

“
Comme les francais sont amiables!”
said Jake. The French are so easy.

“
Don’t get fresh,” she said, pulling him along into the front room of the large, two-story brick building.

As Jake took a step onto the wide-beamed floor, a long narrative of his journey formed on his tongue. He was just able to cut it off when he saw the room was not empty.

Not at all. Its occupant rose from his chair, dressed in the bright red jacket favored by followers of His Royal Majesty, the King of England.

“
Captain Clark, let me introduce you to my cousin, Jake Gibson,” said Marie, putting her arm on his shoulder as she amended his name. “Jake is quite a traveler. He’s just come from Quebec.”

“
Indirectly,” said Jake, his only option to play along with what she said.

“
Then you must have seen Burgoyne!” exclaimed the British captain, taking his hand and pumping it like a glassblower’s bellows with a strong, crushing grip.

“
I left before he arrived,” said Jake, hoping that made sense – and that he wouldn’t have to be more specific. “I had business with the savages.”

“
We don’t call them savages anymore,” said Marie in the light but firm voice one used to correct a child. “They are allies.”

“
What business are you in?” asked the captain.

“
I am a doctor of sorts,” said Jake, looking at Marie to make sure she heard – and agreed.

“
Of sorts?”

“
In the backwoods one handles many things. One learns many things,” said Jake, warming now to the task of fooling and then pumping this Captain Clark for information. “I have these past few months been contemplating the efficacy of a rattlesnake cure. I learned of it from a Jesuit, who told me the Huron swore by it as a cure for many diseases, including cancer and pox.”

“
Inoculation works against the pox,” said the soldier.

“
Not in all cases. The humor must be properly balanced.”

Marie disappeared into the other room. Jake settled in a chair next to the fire, warming himself. His face and manner were nonchalant, but beneath the façade he was coiled and ready to strike. His pocket pistol was charged, though he wasn’t sure even all four of his bullets could fell the large man across from him. Fortunately, the officer appeared unarmed, without even his sword. Obviously, he was on very friendly terms with the house’s occupant – a fact which not only surprised but perturbed Jake. To find Marie cozying up to the other side wounded him more than the powerfully built redcoat ever could.

“
I thought of studying medicine myself before joining the army,” said Clark. “I still may, when I return home.”

“
Yes,” said Jake. “How long since you left England?”

“
Oh, I’ve been here for over a year. Came with Burgoyne to rout the rabble, as it were, but I was transferred to the governor’s staff. The general, of course, spent the winter in England – jolly wish I could have.”

Jake nodded. “But he’s back now.”

“
He certainly is. Thank you, my dear,” said the captain, rising as Marie returned with a tray of tea cups, along with a dish of supper for Jake.

She placed the tray on a small settee; Jake noted that she didn’t have to ask the British officer how much sugar he wanted when dropping in the lumps.

“
It looks to me your cousin wants something stronger than tea,” said the captain when Jake didn’t take his cup.

“
My system is allergic to tea,” said Jake.

Marie turned the harsh undertone to his voice aside as lightly as a compliment. “Oh, I’ve forgotten, cousin, about your unbalanced humors. How silly of me. Would you like some coffee instead?”

“
No.”

“
Good, because I haven’t any.” She laughed. “I’ll get the rum.”

“
Allergic to tea?” said the officer. “You sound like a rebel.”

He was joking, but Jake wasn’t. “And what if I do?”

The captain didn’t take up the challenge, tut-tutting as he sipped from the delicate china cup. “Meant nothing by it, my friend. You’ll have to forgive me; being a soldier one sometimes finds jokes at other people’s expense too easily. My brother is allergic to cats, actually. Quite the thing – put one in a room with him and in two minutes he’s sneezing a storm. The devil must spend the day outside his door to catch his soul at some unguarded moment.”

Marie, standing at the door, shook her head sternly, warning Jake off. In any event, the captain proved unprovocable and skillfully evasive. An hour’s worth of fishing failed to produce anything useful.

“
You’re still attending the ball tomorrow night, yes?” Clark said to Marie as he took his leave.

“
Of course.”

“
Bring your cousin,” he added. “He should meet Governor Carleton. And General Burgoyne. Doctors are in great demand.”

“
He’ll be there, I’m sure,” she said before pecking the captain on the cheek.

“
B
ut a British
soldier, Marie!”

“
And what, I should have sat here alone like a num waiting for some jackal of a farmer to appear on my doorstep? Thank you for your advice, Jake Gibbs, but I don’t need it. I have fended for myself long before I met you, and will do so long after you are gone. Which, I assume, shall be shortly.”

She pushed away from him on the bed, folding her arms across her breasts. Her stays and hoops, petticoat and dress, lay in a trail back across the room.

“
You always had a sharp tongue. Perhaps I should give you a good spanking,” Jake teased.

“
Try it,” she said without humor, adding in French a phrase that translated roughly as, “And if you do, I shall make a puppet of your louie.”

“
You already have.”

“
Fiddle. No woman can tame you. She would be a fool to try.”

“
That’s why I love you.”

“
And what is the reason you’ve come back?”

“
You’re not enough?”

“
I know you, Jake Gibbs. You’d never risk your neck for me.”

“
I’ve risked it for much less.”

She stepped off the bed and pulled a casual shift from the drawer of her bureau, then went downstairs for something to drink.

Marie Sacre was the descendant of the earliest settlers of the area. Well known in Montreal, which lay less than five miles to the north, she was considered by half the inhabitants a wild eccentric, a thirty-year-old woman who had never condescended to marry. The other half regarded themselves in constant competition for her charms, striving to break her vows against marriage and win her large estate as their prize.

Or as an added prize, since her charms were of considerable value themselves.

Jake had met Marie during the summer of 1775. General Montgomery assigned then-Captain Gibbs to scout Montreal and its environs in preparation for his invasion. After mapping the defenses and delivering his recommendations, Jake returned and entered the city disguised as a local trapper. His new assignment was to recruit Canadians to the Cause, laying the seeds for a local revolt as the Americans approached.

While his French seemed masterful to American ears, Jake quickly discovered that his accent not only gave him away as a foreigner, but greatly undermined his status with his audience. A squad of redcoats ended his second attempt at rallying support, and he was forced to flee the market area about ten steps ahead of the bayonets. He ran down an alley and met Marie, making a forcible impression by knocking her off her feet. Fortunately, he caught her in midair and whisked her upright with the sweep of a dance master. The soldiers closing in, he bowed and dove behind a pile of boxes in a desperate attempt to hide.

Something in her expression had told him she would not give him away, but Marie went beyond his best expectations. Jake listened as she assured the soldiers the alley was empty, but a man had just run inside the leather shop across the way. As the soldiers charged off, Marie hurried Jake to her carriage on the street. He threw off his coat and hat, assuming an ad hoc position as her driver; they rode back down through the square he’d been chased from, past the eyes of several of the soldiers who’d done the chasing.

In the days that followed, Marie helped him clandestinely meet with local opponents to the Crown. The opposition network was one of the reasons – along with the critically weak defenses – that Carleton abandoned the city when Montgomery approached.

By that time Jake had given himself a new mission, having perpetrated one of his greatest hoaxes. He presented himself to his former employer, Carleton, saying he had fled rebel lines to join him. Completely taken in, the governor once again made him his secretary – a position the young patriot used to great and sundry advantage. Carleton did not begin to suspect him until they had retreated together to Quebec, and even then did not take the proper precautions until Jake had managed to do considerable damage to the British cause. Placed under house arrest, he managed the disguised daylight escape Colonel Flanagan had earlier alluded to – but as those exploits are to be recorded elsewhere, we dwell too much on the past to the expense of the present.

“
I thought you had gone to find Clark and turn me in,” said Jake when Marie returned to the room.

“
Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve brought some whiskey. You always liked it.”

“
I still do.”

She made a face, setting down the flagon in front of him. “French wine is better,” she said before sipping from her own glass of run. “But it has been so long since I’ve had some here. All we seem able to get these days is Portuguese rot.”

“
Your grapes?”

“
Last year’s crop was burned on the vine.”

“
Maybe this year’s?”

“
Yes. It seems more auspicious.”

She settled into the wooden chair across from him, pulling it forward and hooking her bare feet on the front rungs, her toes tickling the cross spindle. Her easy rock back and forth in the chair seemed gently seductive.

“
Tell me about Burgoyne’s army,” he said.

“
I don’t know much. It’s obvious that an invasion is planned soon. There were rumors of an attempt this past winter, but apparently the lakes were not sufficiently frozen. At least that was the excuse. It was a mild winter, I’ll admit. The snow left in March, but much of the river was still frozen until a few weeks ago. So perhaps they were just scared.

“
How many troops have come to Montreal?”

“
You’re the spy, not me. All I can tell you is that they are as rude as any soldiers I’ve met. A whole troop of the devils were caught last month stealing the hair from cows’ tails; apparently they fix them to their caps as an insignia. There was a huge row over it. Do you remember Pierre Jacques? Well, they were his cows and he took offense. He went after the soldiers – twenty of them, mind you – and speared on with his pitchfork. They brought him up on charges and were going to hang him before I intervened.

“
You?”

“
I went to Carelton himself.

“
How is my friend the governor?”