The Major slipped quietly through the window and glanced across the courtyard. Near the guard station, Chris had maneuvered the soldier between himself and the cabin by standing in front of the fake barrel. The Major couldn’t help thinking that Chris had come a long way while in his company. He smiled to himself and ducked sideways behind the north side of the cabin.
For a large man, the Major moved quickly. He was over six feet tall and of a thin build. His height had helped him as a leader and negotiator. Now, he hoped his towering presence would give him an advantage during battle.
He crept as fast as he could over the 200 feet of open space, where he was most vulnerable — in back of the cabin to the Legardeur’s office. He spotted an unshuttered window and peered inside. The room was empty, but he forced the window open and raised it without making a sound..
Once into the small office, he realized how dark it was without the lit lamps and the fireplace going. The darkness made it difficult to find the papers he was looking for, but he couldn’t back out now. Locating them would just take a little more time.
He worked by grabbing small stacks of paper and taking them to the window, where the moonlight gave added light. He was able to make out certain figures and shapes on the pages and to determine if anything looked like plans or lists. Items that looked promising he laid in a pile behind the desk.
After about 20 minutes, he had examined all the papers on the top of the desk. He also examined two drawers and found a small revolver, a bottle of brandy and an official-looking journal that contained four pages of writing and worthy of making a copy.
One page caught his attention more than others. This page seemed especially valuable and had a detailed sketch of a French fort he never heard of called Duquesne. Other pages contained listings of forts in Venango and Presque Isle, lists of supplies and what looked like numbers denoting troup strength.
Just as he opened the largest of the drawers, he heard talking outside the office. Trying hard not to panic, he picked up the journal and curled himself up under the desk. He tried to position himself to peer out from beneath the desk, but couldn’t do it without dislocating his shoulder or making noise.
When the door of the office opened, he could hear two men giving what appeared to be instructions in French. Next, he heard soft footsteps of other men and then a thump as a large sack of some sort was dropped near the chair along the far wall. A sharp discussion in French followed, and other objects were dropped near the sack. The voices became quieter as the door closed and was locked from the outside again.
Breathing a sigh of relief, the Major squeezed out from under the desk. He placed the journal in his shirt and half-heartedly contemplated taking the brandy and the gun. “This little excursion is over,” he thought as he checked the desk to see that everything was back in order. Satisfied, he walked to the chair to see what the soldiers had dropped. He assumed that they had left mail and parcels from the north, items of no interest to him in the dark.
To his surprise, he could see even from across the room that a man lay motionless on the floor. “Why would they dump a person into the Legardeur’s office in the middle of the night,” he thought. “This is no place for some drunkard or …” His fears were confirmed when he saw in the moonlight that the man’s chest wasn’t rising and falling. Setting his unease aside, he checked the bags dropped next to the large Frenchman. He rummaged through several Indian-style bags, but found nothing of interest. Then, he realized he no longer had the journal.
He checked his shirt again and yet again. The journal was gone. He cursed and reached down to feel the floor, but the journal wasn’t there either. Then searched again the bags he had searched before. His hands located the journal in the second bag. He let out a sigh of relief. As he removed his hand he felt another small, leather-bound book. Probably the dead man’s writings. Or was the first journal he had pulled out the desk his writings? He cursed again.
Just then he heard the click of the door lock and realized he had not a moment to spare.