But the third week, Gabriel said he had decided on a plan which might break off this detestable marriage if the others would help him.  They all declared they would do anything for him, and he then told them he had privately sent word about it by Manette to Celeste; and Celeste was willing to have it or any plan attempted which would prevent the wedding.

“We will dress ourselves as Puants,” said Gabriel, “and make a rush on the wedding party on the way to church, and carry off the bride.”

Le Maudit Pensonneau sprung up and danced with joy when he heard that.  Nothing would please him better than to dress as a Puant and carry off a bride.  The Cahokians were so used to being raided by the Puants that they would readily believe such an attack had been made.  That very week the Puants had galloped at midnight, whooping through the town, and swept off from the common fields a flock of Le Page’s goats and two of Larue’s cattle.  One might expect they would hear of such a wedding as Celeste Barbeau’s.  Indeed, the people were so tired of the Puants that they had sent urgently to St. Ange de Bellerive asking that soldiers be marched from Fort Chartres to give them military protection.

It would be easy enough for the young men to make themselves look like Indians.  What one lacked another could supply.

“But two of us cannot take any part in the raid,” said Gabriel.  “Two must be ready at the river with a boat.  And they must take Celeste as fast as they can row up the river to Pain Court to my aunt Choutou.  My aunt Choutou will keep her safely until I can make some terms with Alexis Barbeau.  Maybe he will give me his daughter, if I rescue her from the Puants.  And if worst comes to worst, there is the missionary priest at Pain Court; he may be persuaded to marry us.  But who is willing to be at the river?”

Paul and Jacques Le Page said they would undertake the boat.  They were steady and trusty fellows and good river men; not so keen at riding and hunting as the others, but in better favor with the priest on account of their behavior.

So the scheme was very well laid out, and the wedding day came, clear and bright, as promising as any bride’s day that ever was seen.  Claudis Beauvois and a few of his friends galloped off to Prairie du Pont to bring the bride to church.  The road from Caho’ to Prairie du Pont was packed on both sides with dense thickets of black oak, honey locust, and red haws.  Here and there a habitant had cut out a patch and built his cabin; or a path broken by hunters trailed towards the Mississippi.  You ride the same track to-day, my child, only it is not as shaggy and savage as the course then lay.

And as soon as Claudis Beauvois was out of sight, Gabriel Chartrant followed with his dozen French Puants, in feathers and buckskin, all smeared with red and yellow ochre, well mounted and well armed.  They rode along until they reached the last path which turns off to the river.  At the end of that path, a mile away through the underbrush, Paul and Jacques Le Page were stationed with a boat.  The young men with Gabriel dismounted and led their horses into the thicket to wait for his signal.