The Span o' Life Part 19

In the midst of this turmoil a soft knock was heard, and we all sprang to our feet.

"Come in! Come in!" called Angelique, running to the door; but it opened before she could reach it, and there, in the bright light, stood an Indian holding his snow-shoes in his hand.

As soon as I saw him I could not repress a cry of terror, for he was the very chief from whom le pere Jean had rescued me.

"Do not be alarmed, Marguerite. He is Luntook, my son's man. He always brings word of my son's return."

The Indian explained to Angelique, in his broken French, that his master had but sent him to announce his coming, and paid not the slightest attention either to Lucy or myself. As soon as he had answered Angelique's eager questionings, he took himself off again, and we began our preparations.

"He will be here in an hour!" sang Angelique, as she danced about the room like a mad thing. Fresh wood was piled on the fire; the table was set with the best linen and silver, and loaded with every delicacy we had prepared; candles were placed in each window, of which the heavy wooden shutters were thrown back, and soon the whole house was a blaze of light.

Into all this entered the long-expected guest, who, after tenderly embracing his mother, was caught in a whirl of kisses and questionings showered on him by Angelique. Suddenly she released him, crying: "But stop, Charles! you make me forget myself. Here is Mme. de St.

Just, for whose sake, most of all, we have been waiting for you."

While I acknowledged his salutation, Angelique rattled on: "She has waited for you all this time to take her to Louisbourg, she and her waiting-woman. Where is Lucie? Oh, she has gone--frightened by the Indian, no doubt. She--I mean Marguerite--is so glad you have come. When do you go back?"

"Not to-night, at all events, ma belle. I'm sure even madame would not ask that. In any case not until I've tasted some of these good things. We can boast no such table at Mire."

With much laughter we gradually settled down. When M. de Sarennes had doffed his outer wrappings and appeared in a close-fitting suit of some dark blue stuff, I thought I had seldom seen a handsomer type of man, and did not wonder at the pride his womenkind displayed.

He was very tall, had a dark olive face like his sister, great flas.h.i.+ng eyes, and black hair that rolled handsomely off his well-shaped forehead; and I could easily imagine that more usual clothing would transform him into a prince among his fellows.

Before taking his place at table he left us for a little to see after his men, who were provided for in the kitchen. When he returned, he said:

"Luntook, my Indian, tells me that it was he who carried you off, madame. He had taken you for English women, and even now can scarce be persuaded he was mistaken, though he gave you up to le pere Jean."

"We are English women, monsieur."

"And you would go to Louisbourg?" he asked, I thought sharply, with a flash of his great eyes.

"Yes, monsieur," I said, quietly.

But he said nothing further, beyond a.s.suring me that the Indian was thoroughly trustworthy, and I need be in no fear of him.

Thereupon we sate down to table, and as her brother ate, Angelique related to him our story, or, rather, a merry burlesque of our adventures, at which he laughed heartily.

"Well, madame, I have news for your waiting-woman, at least; though why she should run away when she must be dying to hear it, is more than I can imagine. Tell her that her son arrived safely at Louisbourg, where he was soon a hot favourite with every one in the garrison, and most of all with the Chevalier de Maxwell." Here he paused to raise his gla.s.s, looking hard at me the while. To my distress, the tell-tale blood leaped to my face at the unexpected mention of that dear name. "Being a stirring lad and much attached to me," he continued, without apparently noticing my confusion, "he begged to be allowed to join me on an expedition. We were surprised by the English, and he was slightly wounded--oh, nothing, I a.s.sure you, madame, a mere scratch!--and carried off a prisoner, but no doubt is even now as great a favourite with them as he was with us. Should they come to look us up in the spring, I doubt not he will be found in their ranks. At all events, he is with his friends, and is safe."

So rejoiced was I to hear this news for Lucy's sake, that I excused myself and withdrew to my room, where I found the dear, patient soul on her knees, awaiting whatever tidings I might bring.

"Oh, my dear mistress," she said, quietly, when I had told her all, "I have prayed and hoped, but at times my poor faith would almost fail me; and even now, when trembling at what I might have to bear, His message comes, that all is well with the child."

CHAPTER XVII

I FIND MYSELF IN A FALSE POSITION

The rest of the week pa.s.sed quickly, in one sense, though every hour of it dragged for me. I was burning with impatience to hear M. de Sarennes speak some word of his intended departure, and yet could not bring myself to put the ungracious question, when I saw the dear pleasure his stay meant to his mother. Never had I seen more tender, respectful attention than that with which he surrounded her. He would sit by her for hours listening to her tales of his father, or relating his own adventures and successes against the English.

"Have a care, my son," she would say, with an anxiety, not unmixed with pride; "they will not forget these things. They may try to work us evil for them some day."

"No fear, ma mere! not while I am by to defend you," he would answer, with a protecting love that redeemed his confidence from bravado.

He accompanied Angelique and me on all our walks, explaining to us the simpler mysteries of his wonderful woodcraft, and keenly enjoying our ready admiration. But my mind was uneasy. With the a.s.suredness of a man accustomed to facile conquest, he pressed his attentions upon me in a manner to which I was unaccustomed, greatly to my embarra.s.sment.

No woman of my day could, in ordinary circ.u.mstances, be at a loss to interpret any attentions she might receive. In our world, gallantry was a science well understood; as exact as war, its every move had its meaning; its rules were rigidly defined, and no one ever thought of transgressing them; so there reigned a freedom which made society a pleasure, and the intercourse with men was exactly what one chose it should be.

But now, I was brought face to face with a man who, whatever might be his birth, had neither breeding nor education; who was accustomed to see his desire and attain it, if possible; who could not understand that freedom was a compliment to his quality, not an acknowledgment of his personality; and who, in consequence, misinterpreted mere courtesies in a sense humiliating to the bestower.

Our life was necessarily so intimate, my need of his good-will so great, and my regard for his mother and sister so warm, that I was bound to conceal my annoyance; but at length he forced me to a declaration, when, hoping that frankness might avail me better than evasion, I spake so plainly that I left him in no doubt as to the manner in which I received his attentions. He resented it with all the bitterness of a man unaccustomed to rebuke, and my heart failed me as I thought of the weeks I must pa.s.s in his company.

This made me the more anxious to push matters to a conclusion, and my opportunity came one afternoon, when Angelique snapped the end of her snow-shoe, and was forced to return, leaving us to finish our walk together.

We moved on in silence for some time before I could summon up courage to venture the question on which I felt so much depended.

"Have you decided on your return to Louisbourg, monsieur?"

"I must first go to Quebec and report to M. de Montcalm," he began, in an ordinary voice, and then, to my surprise, he suddenly broke into invective. "We have a new order here now; everything must be reported in a quarter where nothing is known of the needs of the country, or the character of the service. If those idiots in Paris would only mind matters in their own country and leave Canada to those who know it best, if they would send us troops and not generals, if they would send us money and not priests, we should do better. What can you expect of men who think of nothing but parade and their own precious dignity? Who never speak of a Canadian but with derision? But I forgot. Madame is too recently from Paris herself to take an interest in such matters; to her, doubtless, we are all 'colonists,' and M. de Montcalm is Pope and King."

He stopped and faced me at his last words, and though not unprepared for some outburst, I was appalled at the fierceness of his tone and the bitterness he threw into his charge. Before I could reply, he went on:

"My sister has handed me the orders which M. le Marquis de Montcalm et de St. Veran, has been pleased to lay on my mother and myself concerning you, but she tells me nothing of your friends in Louisbourg. May I ask whom you would join there?"

"M. de Sarennes, your mother and sister have treated me with a consideration beyond words. They have subjected me to no questionings, to no inquiries, beyond what I have chosen to reveal myself, and surely I can look for the same courtesy from you."

"O, madame, madame--I am no courtier from Versailles. Your M. de Montcalm will probably tell you I am a mere 'coureur de bois,' and, if that be the case, you must lay it to my condition if I ask again: Who is it you go to meet in Louisbourg? Is it, by chance, Mme. de St. Julhien?"

I remembered the Chevalier de St. Julhien was Hugh's colonel, and eagerly caught at the opening, for I had begun to be seriously frightened.

"Yes, monsieur, since you must know, it is Mme. de St. Julhien."

"Oh, ho! ho! Nom de Ciel! But that is a good one!" He roared like a peasant, and I almost screamed in terror. "That is a good one!

I have been in and out of Louisbourg for the last ten years and more, and I have yet to hear of a Mme. de St. Julhien. Come, come, ma belle! I'll wager my head you are no more Mme. de St. Just, than I am. You have been playing a pretty comedy to these simple spectators, who were too scrupulous to venture a question. It took the barbarous coureur de bois to see through the paint! There!

There! Don't look so frightened. I can guess, readily enough, what brings a pretty woman to the walls of a garrison town."

Oh, the shame, the miserable shame and degradation which overwhelmed me at the brutal insinuations of this well-born clown! And, to crown it all, he stepped close beside me, and before I had a suspicion of his intent, he threw his arms about my waist and kissed me.

"You wretch! you cowardly hound!" I cried, beside myself at this last insult. "How dare you treat me thus? I will appeal to M. de Montcalm, and you shall rue this day beyond any you have ever lived.

I will appeal to your mother--"

"O, la, la, la, my charming little Mme. Je-Ne-Sais-Quoi, you can complain to M. de Montcalm when you see him. As for my mother, I hardly imagine you will dare to tell her anything which will not excuse my action. But come, madame, we are not getting on with our conversation at all. Believe me, I am not a bad fellow at bottom. Tell me who it is you are really going to meet in Louisbourg, and we shall see if it be not possible to further your plans."

"Let me go, M. de Sarennes, let me go!" I implored.

"Now, madame, let us talk sensibly. Consider how awkward it may be if I have to pursue these inquiries before others. In any event, I can guess fairly well. Let us see: Madame is an Englishwoman; is well born, wealthy, and, if she will not resent my saying so, is of a certain age. Good! Monsieur is an Englishman; well born, poor, and also of a suitable age. Good! Monsieur is unfortunate in his present position; is practically in exile. Madame comes overseas alone, save for a chance waiting-woman she picks up. Why? Surely not for the delights of travel. Monsieur's name is Le Chevalier Maxwell de Kirkconnel. Madame's name is--Ma foi! I haven't the slightest idea what it is. There! madame, have I not drawn the outline of the comedy cleverly enough, for a mere coureur de bois, a mere Canadian?"

"Let me go, monsieur, let me go!"