Outcasts of River Falls (15 page)

Kathryn mulled over the mystery of the red light as she walked. Assuming it was real, she would have to dismiss the idea of it being a bruin warning – Aunt Belle would have informed her if it were a safety lamp. So why deny it? What was the big secret? Why did people usually use lanterns? For light, of course; and maybe for heat and to signal messages.

She stumbled in the middle of the road, nearly dropping the fish. What if the red lantern was real, and it and the Highwayman were somehow connected? What if her aunt was signalling the Highwayman with the lantern? That would be an important reason to keep it a secret.

Could it be? Was it possible? Wouldn’t it be delicious!

Kathryn picked up the pace. She was on her way to see a lady who may be able to supply some answers.

Opening her door,
Madame Ducharme took one look at the fish and her face lit up with delight.
“Merci, ma belle petite fille.”
Then she caught herself and switched to English. “Thank you, my granddaughter.”

“Aunt Belle thought you might enjoy these for dinner.”

The old woman eyed them appreciatively. “It’s been a while since I had any rainbow trout and I will remember you both in my prayers tonight. Will you come in for tea?”

Instead of her usual reaction to the offer, Kathryn had been hoping for an invitation. She had a mystery to solve. Was her aunt up to something clandestine and did it in involve the Highwayman?

She was sure Madame Ducharme knew everything that went on in River Falls and would be able to help shed some light on the lantern mystery. She almost giggled at her clever pun, then noticed the old lady waiting expectantly. “Oh, yes please,” she said hastily. “To tea. It’s been a long day.”

“Wonderful. I’ll put the kettle on while you clean them.”

“Clean them? The fish?” Kathryn asked bewildered. They’d been sloshing around in a dish pan for the last twenty minutes, surely they were clean enough?

“There’s a knife on that stump.” Kokum indicated a well-worn chopping block not far from her back door.

It was then that the full horror struck Kathryn. “You want me to...to
gut
the fish?” Thinking of the deer she had seen being dressed, her stomach roiled at the prospect. “No, no I can’t possibly do that,” she stammered. “I mean, I don’t know how.”

“Then it’s high time you learned. Cut open the belly and scoop out the innards.
Très facile!”

Kathryn gulped as she carried the bowl to the stump. She picked up the knife and felt beads of sweat spring out on her forehead. “I will not let two dead fish defeat me!” she growled, trying to bolster her confidence while calming her stomach. “For King and country!” Taking a deep breath, she plunged the knife into the first fish.

It was the most disgusting thing she’d ever had to do.
Swallowing bile with every breath, Kathryn managed to re
move most of the entrails, the beasts’ slimy fishiness mak
ing them difficult to hold and giving the Lilliputian sea ser
pents an odd animation as thought they were still alive.

How was she ever going to get the odour off her hands, and... She quickly checked her dress. What if she’d accidentally smeared some of the offal on her clothes? She’d smell like a fishmonger forever.

Taking the mutilated remains back into the cabin, she placed them in the sink and gratefully sat for her hard earned tea. She hoped the ordeal would be worth the answers she got.

“Madame, I mean Kokum, isn’t it wonderful how the Highwayman knows exactly which transgression to right and when someone needs help or even special, rare medicine? I wonder how he gets this information...”

The elder offered Kathryn a cookie. “He travels so much, I’m sure that he hears many things.”

Kathryn reached for one, but when she brought it to her mouth, the lingering smell on her hand made her place the pastry back on her saucer. “The thing is it happens so swiftly. Perhaps he is in contact with someone in River Falls and they tell him whom he should help next.”

Madame Ducharme hesitated, her cup halfway to her lips, but not a flicker on that wrinkled countenance gave a hint as to what the matriarch was thinking.

“Perhaps God sends an angel to tell him what he needs to know. Or he may receive a blazing sign that he is needed.” Kokum took a long draught of her tea.

Kathryn put her own cup down. An angel, not likely; a blazing sign, perhaps.

“And if I had a particularly nasty problem, how could I be sure the Highwayman would hear about it?” she asked innocently.

Kokum’s attention focussed on the sink as she eyed the fish hungrily. “What’s that, dear? Oh, you don’t have to worry. He’d know about your troubles immediately.”

Kathryn wondered what that was supposed to mean.

The elder rose and hobbled to the stove. “I think you should stay and have supper with me, since you cleaned those fish so well.”

This unexpected invitation caught Kathryn by surprise. “Thank you, but I couldn’t. Aunt Belle is expecting me home.”

“We shall send a message to her that you will be dining with me.” She shuffled to the door where an iron triangle hung on the outside of the cabin. No sooner had the elder struck the gong, than a familiar face appeared in the doorway.

“You rang, Kokum?” JP asked; then, spying Kathryn, he removed his signature hat and winked.

“Yes, scamp, go to Belle’s and tell her Kathryn shall dine with me tonight.”

“Your wish is my command.” And in a twinkling, he was gone as quickly as he had appeared.

Despite the grim beginnings, the fish meal turned out to be delicious and Kathryn thoroughly enjoyed her trout. The sun was well down when she bid the grandmotherly woman good night.

“Come back soon, my dear!” Madame Ducharme called as Kathryn started down the dark road for home, the wash basin tucked under her arm.

As Kathryn made her way through the dense pines near her aunt’s cabin, a noise made her stop. She strained to listen, every rustle in the brush making her blood rush a little faster. The marauding bear was never far from her thoughts. Then she heard it. The sound of horse’s hooves coming from the direction of Aunt Belle’s and it was getting closer.

The thick clouds in the night sky made a mockery of the moon’s brilliant light. Still, she hastily moved back into the deeper shadows and hid behind a tree, some instinct warning her it was best not to be seen.

In a cloud of powder-fine dust, a horse and rider sped past her. She saw a man dressed in black astride the dark horse, his hat pulled down low over his brow. Yet, even in the gloom, it was possible to make out the black mask and the flash of ivory at his waist.

It was the Highwayman!

Before she could react, the apparition disappeared into the darkness, leaving Kathryn breathless and shaking. He was real! And he was exactly as she’d pictured him – tall, muscular, fearless...mystery personified!

There was something else. He was dangerous. Kathryn ran for the cabin as fast as her wobbling legs could carry her. Cutting through the woods to avoid the road in case the rider returned, she stumbled several times, tripping and falling, but at last Kathryn burst through the door, gasping. “Aunt Belle! Aunt Belle! The Highwayman, I saw him!”

Her aunt, clutching a large bundle of fabric in her arms, stood speechless for a moment before reacting.
“Mon Dieu!
Let me put this material away, and you can tell me all about it.” She struggled up the steep stairs with the bulky textile; then returned, her face rather flushed.

“Now, where did you see this phantom rider?” She asked, leading Kathryn to the small horsehair settee.

“On the road, not far from here. He wasn’t a phantom; he was real! Didn’t you hear him? He had to pass right by the cabin.” She was trembling all over. She’d actually seen him. Her Robin Hood had stepped out of her imagination and into the real world.

“Are you sure it was the Highwayman?”

“Yes, yes, he was masked and on a tall black horse.” Kathryn was still shaking.

Her aunt put a comforting arm around her. “What an experience for you. Did he see you,
ma chère?”

Kathryn shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I had stepped off the road and was hiding in the woods. I’m sure it was him.” She took a deep, steadying breath.

“Well, that was an adventure.” Aunt Belle patted Kathryn
on the knee. “And how was your dinner with Kokum?”

Belle couldn’t believe that her aunt was being so cavalier about this terrifying incident. “Aunt Belle – I don’t think you understand the gravity of my experience. I saw the Highwayman of River Falls!”

“Yes, Katydid. You saw the Highwayman, the friend to all the Métis people. There was nothing to fear. You sit while I get you a warm cocoa and you can tell me everything.”

This was not the response Kathryn had expected. Thinking about it, she supposed her aunt was right. He was not your typical outlaw – he did
good
deeds. Never in all the tales she’d heard of this man had there been one incidence of violence.

As they sipped their drinks, Kathryn feeling calm once more, told her aunt all that had happened, including having to clean the disgusting, if delicious, fish, at which Aunt Belle laughed heartily. It had been quite the day and by the time the cups were cleared, Kathryn was more than ready for bed. She tried to stay awake to watch for the red light again, but was asleep seconds after her head touched the pillow.

The next morning,
Katherine couldn’t believe what she found on the cabin steps. She’d been on her way to give Nellie breakfast and when she’d stepped out the door they’d been there, waiting for her like friends come to call.

Books! Beautiful, wonderful, marvellous books.

“Aunt Belle, come quickly! Wait till you see what’s here.” Kathryn picked one volume up and then another. It was like finding a buried treasure on a desert isle. She was Jim Hawkins and she’d found a prize more valuable than Long John Silver’s gold.

“What is it, dear?” her aunt asked, coming onto the porch.

“These books,” Kathryn excitedly held up two, “these are the exact titles I need to continue my studies. That list I wrote out when we went to the Carter Academy, they’re all here, with a few extras that sound very interesting!” She was practically giddy with excitement.

“My, my, where could they have come from?” her aunt exclaimed.

She said this with a straight face, but Kathryn thought she detected something in her tone. “I think we both know the answer to this riddle. Why, the Highwayman, of course!” She scanned titles and flipped pages as she shook her head, puzzled. “How did he know?”

Kathryn stopped mid-flip. The Highwayman must have somehow found the paper with the listed titles. Had her missive accidentally been thrown away only to be blown into his Sherwood Forest? Or – and this was a definite possibility – had the rogue broken into the cabin when they were away and stolen it?

Claude Remy jumped into her mind, black hair, dark horse and all. The day she’d tested him, he’d certainly made himself at home, barging right into the cabin without an invitation, not commenting on the new room – as though he’d seen the renovations before.

“Aunt Belle, where’s that paper with the names of the books I needed?”

Her aunt thought for a moment. “In the china cabinet where I put it for safe-keeping.”

Kathryn hurried back into the cabin determined to see for herself. She was sure she’d find the list missing, proving that Claude Remy, also now known to her as the Highwayman, had indeed been snooping around.

Opening the glass-paned door on the cabinet, Kathryn was flabbergasted to see the list, folded neatly and stuck in a small porcelain vase. “I don’t understand.... How could he have known?” She waited for her aunt to explain.

“Well, don’t fault me, Katydid! It’s exactly where I put it.”

This had to be another Métis miracle – courtesy of the Bandit de Grand Chemin. The problem was Kathryn couldn’t accuse anyone, least of all the mad woodsman, without proof.

Chapter 12

Uncle
Tom
’
s
Cabin
in
Canada

“Katy!” Her aunt called as Kathryn sat in her room leafing through the newly arrived books. “I have to go to town. Would you like to come?”