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diff --git a/31096.txt b/31096.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aa999ed --- /dev/null +++ b/31096.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8167 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lily and the Cross, by James De Mille + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Lily and the Cross + A Tale of Acadia + +Author: James De Mille + +Release Date: January 27, 2010 [EBook #31096] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LILY AND THE CROSS *** + + + + +Produced by Marlo Dianne + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: A Meeting In Mid Ocean.] + + + + +The + +LILY AND THE CROSS. + +A Tale of Acadia. + +By + +PROF. JAMES DE MILLE, + +Author Of "the Dodge Club," "Cord And Creese," "the B. O. W. C. +Stories," "the Young Dodge Club," Etc + +ILLUSTRATED. + +BOSTON: +LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. + + +Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, By LEE AND +SHEPARD, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER I. +A Voice Out Of The Deep + +CHAPTER II. +A Meeting In Mid Ocean + +CHAPTER III. +New Friends + +CHAPTER IV. +Mimi And Margot + +CHAPTER V. +A Strange Revelation + +CHAPTER VI. +A French Frigate + +CHAPTER VII. +Caught In A Trap + +CHAPTER VIII. +Under Arrest + +CHAPTER IX. +Grand Pre + +CHAPTER X. +Alone In The World + +CHAPTER XI. +A Friend In Need + +CHAPTER XII. +The Parson Among The Philistines + +CHAPTER XIII. +A Stroke For Liberty + +CHAPTER XIV. +Manoeuvres Of Zac + +CHAPTER XV. +Flight + +CHAPTER XVI. +Reunion + +CHAPTER XVII. +Among Friends + +CHAPTER XVIII. +Louisbourg + +CHAPTER XIX. +The Captive And The Captors + +CHAPTER XX. +Examinations + +CHAPTER XXI. +A Ray Of Light + +CHAPTER XXII. +Escape + +CHAPTER XXIII. +Pursuit + +CHAPTER XXIV. +Zac And Margot + +CHAPTER XXV. +The Court Martial + +CHAPTER XXVI. +News From Home + + + + +THE LILY AND THE CROSS. + +A TALE OF ACADIA. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +A VOICE OUT OF THE DEEP. + + +Once upon a time there was a schooner belonging to Boston which was +registered under the somewhat singular name of the "Rev. Amos Adams." +This was her formal title, used on state occasions, and was, no +doubt, quite as appropriate as the more pretentious one of the "Duke +of Marlborough," or the "Lord Warden." As a general thing, however, +people designated her in a less formal manner, using the simpler and +shorter title of the "Parson." Her owner and commander was a tall, +lean, sinewy young man, whoso Sunday-go-to-meeting name was Zion +Awake Cox, but who was usually referred to by an ingenious +combination of the initials of these three names, and thus became +Zac, and occasionally Zachariah. This was the schooner which, on a +fine May morning, might have been seen "bounding over the billows" on +her way to the North Pole. + +About her motion on the present occasion, it must be confessed there +was not much bounding, nor much billow. Nor, again, would it have +been easy for any one to see her, even if he had been brought close +to her; for the simple reason that the "Parson," as she went on her +way, carrying Zac and his fortunes, had become involved in a fog +bank, in the midst of which she now lay, with little or no wind to +help her out of it. + +Zac was not alone on board, nor had the present voyage been +undertaken on his own account, or of his own motion. There were two +passengers, one of whom had engaged the schooner for his own +purposes. This one was a young fellow who called himself Claude +Motier, of Randolph. His name, as well as his face, had a foreign +character; yet he spoke English with the accent of an Englishman, and +had been brought up in Massachusetts, near Boston, where he and Zac +had seen very much of one another, on sea and on shore. The other +passenger was a Roman Catholic priest, whose look and accent +proclaimed him to be a Frenchman. He seemed about fifty years of age, +and his bronzed faced, grizzled hair, and deeply-wrinkled brow, all +showed the man of action rather than the recluse. Between these two +passengers there was the widest possible difference. The one was +almost a boy, the other a world-worn old man; the one full of life +and vivacity, the other sombre and abstracted; yet between the two +there was, however, a mysterious resemblance, which possibly may have +been something more than that air of France, which they both had. + +Whatever it may have been, they had been strangers to one another +until the past few days, for Claude Motier had not seen the priest +until after he had chartered the schooner for a voyage to Louisbourg. +The priest had then come, asking for a passage to that port. He gave +his name as the Abbe Michel, and addressed Claude in such bad English +that the young man answered in French of the best sort, whereat the +good priest seemed much delighted, and the two afterwards conversed +with each other altogether in that language. + +Besides these three, there were the ship's company dispersed about +the vessel. This company were not very extensive, not numbering over +three, in addition to Zac. These three all differed in age, in race, +and in character. The aged colored man, who was at that moment +washing out some tins at the bows, came aboard as cook, with the +understanding that he was to be man of all work. He was a slave of +Zac's, but, like many domestic slaves in those days, he seemed to +regard himself as part of his master's family,--in fact, a sort of +respected relative. He rejoiced in the name of Jericho, which was +often shortened to Jerry, though the aged African considered the +shorter name as a species of familiarity which was only to be +tolerated on the part of his master. The second of the ship's company +was a short, athletic, rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed, round-faced lad, +who was always singing and dancing except when he was whistling. His +name was Terry, and his country Ireland. In addition to Jerry and +Terry, there was a third. He was a short, dull, and somewhat doleful +looking boy of about twelve, who had a crushed expression, and seemed +to take gloomy views of life. The only name by which he was known to +himself and others was Biler; but whether that was a Christian name, +or a surname, or a nickname, cannot be said. Biler's chief trouble in +life was an inordinate and insatiable appetite. Nothing came amiss, +and nothing was ever refused. Zac had picked the boy up three years +before, and since that time he had never known him to be satisfied. +At the present moment, Terry was standing at the tiller, while Biler +was at the masthead, to which he had climbed to get rid of the +disappointments of the world below, in a more elevated sphere, and +from his lofty perch he was gazing with a hungry eye forth into +space, and from time to time pulling bits of dried codfish from his +pocket, and thrusting them into his mouth. + +"Hy da!" suddenly shouted the aged Jericho, looking up. "You da, +Biler? You jis come down heah an' help me fotch along dese yar tings. +Ef you ain't got notin' to do, Ise precious soon find you lots ob +tings. Hurry down, da; make haste; relse I'll pitch some hot water up +at you. I can't be boddered wid dese yer pots an' pans any longer, +cos Ise got de dinna to meditate 'bout." + +With these words Jericho stood up, regarding Biler with an appearance +of grave dignity, which would have overawed even a less solemn lad +than this. Biler did not refuse obedience, but thrusting a few +fragments of dried codfish into his mouth, heaved a sigh, gave +another dejected look at surrounding space, and then slowly and +mournfully descended to the lower world. + +The priest was seated on a water-cask, reading his Breviary, while +Zac stood not far off, looking thoughtfully over the vessel's side. +Terry was at the tiller, not because there was any steering to be +done, but because he thought it would be as well for every one to be +at his post in the event of a change of wind. He had whistled "St. +Patrick's Day in the Morning," and was about beginning another +interminable strain of the same kind. Claude was lounging about, and +gradually drew nearer to the meditative Zac, whom he accosted. + +"Well, we don't appear to be making much progress--do we?" said he. + +Zac slowly shook his head. + +"No," said he; "I must say, I don't like this here one mite. 'Tain't +quite right. Seems kin' o' unlucky." + +"Unlucky? How?" + +"Wal, fust and foremost, ef it hadn't been you, you'd never a' got me +to pint the Parson's nose for that French hole, Louisbourg." + +"Why not?" asked Claude, in some surprise; "you don't suppose that +there's any danger--do you?" + +"Wal, it's a risky business--no doubt o' that thar. You see, my +'pinion is this, that Moosoo's my nat'ral born enemy, an' so I don't +like to put myself into his power." + +"O, there's no danger," said Claude, cheerily. "There's peace now, +you know--as yet." + +Zac shook his head. + +"No," said he, "that ain't so. There ain't never real peace out here. +There's on'y a kin' o' partial peace in the old country. Out here, we +fight, an' we've got to go on fightin', till one or the other goes +down. An' as to peace, 'tain't goin' to last long, even in the old +country, 'cordin' to all accounts. There's fightin' already off in +Germany, or somewhars, they say." + +"But you know," said Claude, "you thought you could manage this for +me somehow. You said you could put me ashore somewhere without +trusting yourself in Louisbourg harbor--some bay or other--wasn't it? +I forget what the name is. There's no trouble about that now--is +there?" + +"Wal, not more'n thar was afore," said Zac, slowly; "on'y it seems +more resky to me here, jest now, settin' here this way, inactive +like; p'aps it's the fog that's had a kin' o' depressin' effect on my +sperrits; it's often so. Or mebbe it's the effect of the continooal +hearin' of that darned frog-eatin' French lingo that you go on a +jabberin' with the priest thar. I never could abide it, nor my +fathers afore me; an' how ever you--you, a good Protestant, an' a +Massachusetts boy, an' a loyal subject of his most gracious majesty, +King George--can go on that way, jabberin' all day long with that +thar priest in that darned outlandish lingo,--wal, it beats me,--it +doos clar." + +At this Claude burst into a merry laugh. + +"Well, by George," he cried, "if this ain't the greatest case of +patriotic prejudice! What's the matter with the French language? It's +better than English to talk with. Besides, even if it wern't, the +French can't help their language. If it were yours, you'd like it, +you know. And then I hope you're not beginning to take a prejudice +against the good Pere Michel. He's as fine a fellow as ever lived, by +George!" + +"O, mind you, now, I wan't intendin' to say anythin' agin him," said +Zac. "I like him, an' can't help it, he's so gentle, an' meek, an' +has sech a look out of his eyes. Blamed if I don't sometimes feel +jest as though he's my father. O, no, I ain't got anythin' agin' him. +Far from it. But it's the idee. For here, you see--this is the way +it is; here aboard the Parson I see a Roman Catholic priest; I hear +two people jabber French all day long. It makes me feel jest for all +the world as though I'd got somehow into the hands of the +Philistines. It seems like bein' a captive. It kin' o' seems a sort +o' bad lookout; a kin' o' sort o' sign, you know, of what's a goin' +to happen afore I git back agin." + +At this, which was spoken with much earnestness, and with a very +solemn face, Claude gave another laugh. + +"O, that's all nonsense," said he, gayly. "Why, you don't really +think, now, that you're going to get into trouble through me--do you? +And then as to Pere Michel, why, I feel as much confidence in him as +I do in myself. So come, don't get into this low state of mind, but +pluck up your spirits. Never mind the fog, or the French language. +They oughtn't to have such an effect on a fellow of your size and +general build. You'll put us ashore at that bay you spoke of, and +then go home all right. That's the way of it. As to the land, you +can't have any danger from that quarter; and as to the sea, why, you +yourself said that the French cruiser was never built that could +catch you." + +"Wal," said Zac, "that's a fac', an' no mistake. Give me any kin' of +wind, an' thar ain't a Moosoo afloat that can come anywhar nigh the +Parson. Still, jest now, in this here fog,--an' in the calm, too,--if +a Moosoo was to come along, why, I railly don't--quite--know--what--I +could--railly do." + +"The fog! O, in the fog you'll be all right enough, you know," said +Claude. + +"O, but that's the very thing I don't know," said Zac. "That thar +pint's the very identical pint that I don't feel at all clear about, +an' would like to have settled." + +Claude said nothing for a few moments. He now began to notice in the +face, the tone, and the manner of Zac something very different from +usual--a certain uneasiness approaching to anxiety, which seemed to +be founded on something which he had not yet disclosed. + +"What do you mean?" he asked, rather gravely, suddenly dropping his +air of light banter. + +Zac drew a long breath. + +"Wal," said he, "this here fog makes it very easy for a Moosoo to +haul up alongside all of a suddent, an' ax you for your papers. An' +what's more," he continued, dropping his voice to a lower tone, and +stooping, to bring his mouth nearer to Claude's ear, "what's more, I +don't know but what, at this very moment, there's a Moosoo railly an' +truly a little mite nearer to us than I altogether keer for to hev +him." + +"What!" exclaimed Claude, with a start; "do you really think so? +What! near us, here in this fog?" + +"Railly an' truly," said Zac, solemnly, "that's my identical +meanin'--jest it, exactly; an' 'tain't overly pleasant, no how. See +here;" and Zac dropped his voice to still lower tones, and drew still +nearer to Claude, as he continued--"see here, now; I'll tell you what +happened jest now. As I was a standin' here, jest afore you come up, +I thought I heerd voices out thar on the starboard quarter +--voices--" + +"Voices!" said Claude. "O, nonsense! Voices! How can there be voices +out there? It must have been the water." + +"Wal," continued Zac, still speaking in a low tone, "that's the very +thing I thought when I fust heerd 'em; I thought, too, it must be the +water. But, if you jest take the trouble to examine, you'll find that +thur ain't enough motion in the water to make any sound at all. +'Tain't as if thar was a puffin' of the wind an a dashin' of the +waves. Thar ain't no wind an' no waves, unfort'nat'ly; so it seems +beyond a doubt that it must either be actooal voices, or else +somethin' supernat'ral. An' for my part I'd give somethin' for the +wind to rise jest a leetle mite, so's I could step off out o' this, +an' git out o' hearin', at least." + +At this Claude was again silent for some time, thinking to himself +whether the possibility of a French ship being near was to be wished +or dreaded. Much was to be said on both sides. To himself it would, +perhaps, be desirable; yet not so to Zac, although he tried to +reassure the dejected skipper by telling him that if a French vessel +should really be so near, it would be all the better, since his +voyage would thereby be made all the shorter, for he himself could go +aboard, and the Parson might return to Boston. But Zac refused to be +so easily comforted. + +"No," said he; "once I git into their clutches, they'll never let me +go; and as for the poor old Parson, why, they'll go an' turn her into +a Papist priest. And that," he added, with a deep sigh, "would be +too--almighty--bad!" + +Claude now found that Zac was in too despondent a mood to listen to +what he called reason, and therefore he held his tongue. The idea +that a French ship might be somewhere near, behind that wall of fog, +had in it something which to him was not unpleasant, since it +afforded some variety to the monotony of his situation. He stood, +therefore, in silence, with his face turned towards the direction +indicated by Zac, and listened intently, while the skipper stood in +silence by his side, listening also. + +There was no wind whatever. The water was quite smooth, and the +Parson rose and fell at the slow undulations of the long ocean +rollers, while at every motion the spars creaked and the sails +flapped idly. All around there arose a gray wall of fog, deep, dense, +and fixed, which shut them in on every side, while overhead the sky +itself was concealed from view by the same dull-gray canopy. Behind +that wall of fog anything might lie concealed; the whole French fleet +might be there, without those on board the Parson being anything the +wiser. This Claude felt, and as he thought of the possibility of +this, he began to see that Zac's anxiety was very well founded, and +that if the Parson should be captured it would be no easy task to +deliver her from the grasp of the captor. Still there came no further +sounds, and Claude, after listening for a long time without hearing +anything, began, at length, to conclude that Zac had been deceived. + +"Don't you think," he asked, "that it may, after all, have been the +rustle of the sails, or the creaking of the spars?" + +Zac shook his head. + +"No," said he; "I've heerd it twice; an' I know very well all the +sounds that sails an' spars can make; an' I don't see as how I can be +mistook. O, no; it was human voice, an' nothin' else in natur'. I +wouldn't mind it a mite if I could do anythin'. But to set here an' +jest git caught, like a rat in a trap, is what I call +too--almighty--bad!" + +At this very instant, and while Zac was yet speaking, there came +through the fog the sound of a voice. Claude heard it, and Zac also. +The latter grasped the arm of his friend, and held his breath. It was +a human voice. There was not the slightest doubt now of that. Words +had been spoken, but they were unintelligible. They listened still. +There was silence for a few moments, and then the silence was broken +once more. Words were again heard. They were French, and they heard +them this time with perfect distinctness. They were these:-- + +"_Put her head a little over this way_." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +A MEETING IN MID OCEAN. + + +_Put her head a little over this way_! + +They were French words. To Claude, of course, they were perfectly +intelligible, though not so to Zac, who did not understand any +language but his mother Yankee. Judging by the distinctness and the +loudness of the sound, the speaker could not be very far away. The +voice seemed to come from the water astern. No sight, however, was +visible; and the two, as they stared into the fog, saw nothing +whatever. Nor did any of the others on board seem to have heard the +voice. The priest was still intent on his Breviary. Terry was still +whistling his abominable tune. Jericho was below with his pots and +pans; and Biler, taking advantage of his absence, was seated on the +taffrail devouring a raw turnip, which he chewed with a melancholy +air. To none of these had the voice been audible, and therefore +Claude and Zac alone were confronted with this mystery of the deep. +But it was a mystery which they could not fathom; for the fog was all +around, hiding everything from view, and the more they peered into +the gloom the less were they able to understand it. + +Neither of them spoke for some time. Zac had not understood the +words, but was more puzzled about the fact of a speaker being so near +on the water, behind the fog, than he was about the meaning of the +words which had been spoken. That seemed to be quite a secondary +consideration. And it was not until he had exhausted his resources in +trying to imagine what or where the one might be, that, he thought of +asking about the other. + +"What did it mean?" he asked, at length. + +Claude told him. + +Zac said nothing for some time. + +"I wonder whether they've seen us," said he, at length. "No--'tain't +possible. The fog's too thick--and we're as invisible to them as they +are to us. Besides, these words show that they ain't thinkin' about +anybody but themselves. Well, all we've got to do is to keep as still +as a mouse, an' I'll jest go an' warn the boys." + +With these words Zac moved softly away to warn his crew. First he +went to Terry, and informed him that the whole fleet of France was +around the Parson, and that their only chance of safety was to keep +silent--a piece of information which effectually stopped Terry's +singing and whistling for some time; then he told Biler, in a +friendly way, that if he spoke above a whisper, or made any noise, +he'd pitch him overboard with an anchor tied to his neck. Then he +warned Jericho. As for Pere Michel, he felt that warning was +unnecessary, for the priest was too absorbed in his book to be +conscious of the external world. After this, he came back to Claude, +who had been listening ever since he left, but without hearing +anything more. + +"We must have drifted nearer together," said Zac. "The voice was a +good deal louder than when I fust heerd it. My only hope is, that +they'll drift past us, an' we'll git further away from them. But I +wonder what they meant by bringin' her head around. P'aps they've +seen us, after all--an' then, again, p'aps they haven't." + +He said this in a whisper, and Clause answered in another whisper. + +"It seems to me," said Claude, "that if they'd seen us, they'd have +said something more--or at any rate, they'd have made more noise. But +as it is, they've been perfectly silent." + +"Wal--I on'y hope we won't hear anythin' more of them." + +For more than two hours silence was observed on board the Parson. +Terry stopped all whistling, and occupied himself with scratching his +bullet head. The priest sat motionless, reading his book. Jericho +drew the unhappy Biler down below for safe keeping, and detained him +there a melancholy prisoner. Claude and Zac stood listening, but +nothing more was heard. + +To Claude there seemed something weird and ghostly in this +incident--a voice thus sounding suddenly forth out of nothingness, +and then dying away into the silence from which it had emerged: there +was that in it which made him feel a sensation of involuntary awe; +and the longer the silence continued, the more did this incident +surround itself with a certain supernatural element, until, at +length, he began to fancy that his senses might have deceived him. +Yet he knew this had not been the case. Zac had heard the voice as +well as he, and the words to him had been perfectly plain. _Put her +head a little over this way_! Singular words, too, they seemed to be, +as he turned them over in his mind. Under other circumstances they +might have been regarded as perfectly commonplace, but now the +surroundings gave them the possibility of a varied interpretation. +Who was the "her"? What was meant? Was it a ship or a woman? What +could the meaning be? Or, again, might not this have been some +supernatural voice speaking to them from the Unseen, and conveying to +them some sentence either of good or evil omen, giving them some +direction, perhaps, about the course of the schooner in which he was? + +Not that Claude was what is called a superstitious man. From ordinary +superstition he was, indeed, quite as free as any man of his age or +epoch; not was he even influenced by any of the common superstitious +fancies then prevalent. But still there is a natural belief in the +unseen which prevails among all men, and Claude's fancy was busy, +being stimulated by this incident, so that, as he endeavored to +account for it, he was as easily drawn towards a supernatural theory +as to a natural one. Hundreds of miles from land, on the broad ocean, +a voice had sounded from behind the impenetrable cloud, and it was +scarcely to be wondered at that he considered it something unearthly. + +Under other circumstances Zac might also have yielded to +superstitious fancies; but as it was, his mind had been too +completely filled with the one absorbing idea of the French fleet to +find room for any other thought. It was not an unsubstantial ghost +which Zac dreaded, but the too substantial form of some frigate +looming through the fog, and firing a gun to bring him on board. +Every additional moment of silence gave him a feeling of relief, for +he felt that these moments, as they passed, drew him away farther +from the danger that had been so near. + +At length a new turn came to the current of affairs. A puff of wind +suddenly filled the sails, and at its first breath Zac started up +with a low chuckle. + +"I'd give ten guineas," said he, "for one good hooray--I would, by +George! But bein' as it is, I'll postpone that till I haul off a few +miles from this." + +"Why, what's the matter?" said Claude, rousing himself out of +abstraction. + +"Matter?" repeated Zac. "Why, the wind's hauled round to the +nor'west, and the fog's goin' to lift, an' the Parson's goin' to show +her heels." + +With these words, Zac hurried to the tiller, which he took from the +smiling Terry, and began to being the vessel around to run her before +the wind. + +"Don't care a darn whar I go jest now," said he, "so's I on'y put a +mile or two between us and the Frenchman. Arter that we can shape our +course satisfactory." + +And now the wind, which had thus turned, blew more steadily till it +became a sustained breeze of sufficient strength to carry the +schooner, with very satisfactory speed, out of the unpleasant +proximity to the Frenchman. And as it blew, the clouds lessened, and +the circle of fog which had surrounded them was every moment removed +to a greater distance, while the view over the water grew wider and +clearer. All this was inexpressibly delightful to Zac, who, as it +were, with one bound passed from the depths of despondency up to +joyousness and hope. + +But suddenly a sight appeared which filled him with amazement, a +sight which attracted all his thoughts, and in an instant changed all +his feelings and plans. It was a sight which had become revealed on +the dispersion of the fog, showing itself to their wondering eyes out +there upon the sea astern, in the place where they had been looking +for that French cruiser, which Zac had feared. + +No French cruiser was it that they saw, no ship of war with a hostile +flag and hostile arms, no sight of fear; but a sight full of infinite +pathos and sadness--a pitiable, a melancholy sight. It was about half +a mile behind them, for that was about the distance which they had +traversed since the wind had changed and the schooner's direction had +been altered. + +It seemed at first like a black spot on the water, such as a +projection rock or a floating spar; but as the fog faded away the +object became more perceptible. Then they could see human figures, +some of whom were erect, and others lying down. They were on what +seemed to be a sort of raft, and the whole attitude of the little +group showed most plainly that they had suffered shipwreck, and were +here now floating about helplessly, and at the mercy of the tide, far +out at sea. Moreover, these had already seen the schooner, for they +were waving their arms and gesticulating wildly. + +One glance was enough for both Zac and Claude, and then the +exclamation which they gave drew there the attention of all the +others. The priest looked up, and putting his book back in his +pocket, walked towards them, while Terry gave one swift look, and +then disappeared below. + +"Quick wid ye," he called to Jericho; "put on a couple of barls o' +taters to bile. There's a shipwrecked raft afloat out there beyant, +an' they're all dyin' or dead av starvation, so they are." + +"O, you jes go long wid yer nonsensical tomfoolery," said Jericho. + +"Tomfoolery, is it? Go up, thin, an' luk for yerself," cried Terry, +who bounded up on deck again, and began to prepare for action. At +this Jericho put on his nose an enormous pair of spectacles, and thus +equipped climbed upon deck, followed closely by the melancholy Biler, +who devoured a carrot as he went up. + +By this time Zac had brought the Parson's head round once more, and +steered for the raft, calling out to Terry to get the boat afloat. +Terry and Jerry then went to work, assisted by Biler, and soon the +boat was in the water. + +"Ef I hadn't ben sich a darned donkey," said Zac, in a tone of +vexation, "I might have got at 'em before an' saved them all these +hours of extra starvation. Ef I'd only yelled back when I fust heerd +the voice! Who knows but that some of 'em hev died in the time that's +ben lost?" + +"Can't we run alongside without the boat?" asked Claude. + +"Wal, yes," said Zac; "but then, you know, we couldn't stay alongside +when we got that, an' so we've got to take 'em off with the boat the +best way we can." + +They were not long in retracing their way, and soon came near enough. +Zac then gave up the tiller to Terry, telling him to keep as near as +possible. He then got into the boat, and Claude followed, by Zac's +invitation, as well as his own urgent request. Each took an oar, and +after a few strokes, they were up to the raft. The raft was on a +level with the water and was barely able to sustain the weight of +those who had found refuge on it. It seemed like the poop or round +house of some ship which had been beaten off by the fury of the +waves, and had afterwards been resorted to by those who now clung to +it. + +The occupants of the raft were, indeed, a melancholy group. They were +seven in number. Of these, two were common seamen; a third looked +like a ship's officer, and wore the uniform of a second lieutenant; +the fourth was a gentleman, who seemed about forty years of age. +These four were standing, and as the boat approached them they gave +utterance to every possible cry of joy and gratitude. But it was the +other three occupants of the raft that most excited the attention of +Claude and Zac. + +An old man was seated there, with thin, emaciated frame, and +snow-white hair. He was holding in his arms a young girl, while +beside her knelt another young girl who seemed like the attendant of +the first, and both the old man and the maid were most solicitous in +their attentions. The object of these attentions was exquisitely +beautiful. Her slender frame seemed to have been worn by long +privation, and weakened by famine and exposure. Her face was pale and +wan, but still showed the rounded outlines of youth. Her hair was all +dishevelled, as though it had been long the sport of the rude tempest +and the ocean billow, and hung in disordered masses over her head and +shoulders. Her dress, though saturated with wet from the sea and the +fog, was of rich material, and showed her to belong to lofty rank; +while the costume of the old man indicated the same high social +position. The young lady was not senseless, but only weak, perhaps +from sudden excitement. As she reclined in the old man's arms, her +eyes were fixed upon the open boat; and Claude, as he turned to grasp +the raft, caught her full gaze fixed upon him, with a glance from her +large dark eyes that thrilled through him, full of unutterable +gratitude. Her lips moved, not a word escaped, but tears more +eloquent than words rolled slowly down. + +Such was the sight that greeted Claude as he stepped from the boat +upon the raft. In an instant he was caught in the embraces of the +men, who, frenzied with joy at the approach of deliverance, flung +themselves upon him. But Claude had no eyes for any one but the +lovely young girl, whose gaze of speechless gratitude was never +removed from him. + +"Messieurs," said Claude, who knew them to be French, and addressed +them in their own language, "you shall all be saved; but we cannot +all go at once; we must save the weakest first; and will, therefore, +take these now, and come back for you afterwards." + + +Saying this, he stooped down so to raise the young lady in his arms, +and carry her aboard. The old man held her up, uttering inarticulate +murmurs, that sounded like blessings on their deliverer. Claude +lifted the girl as though she had been a child, and stepped towards +the boat. Zac was already on the raft, and held the boat, while +Claude stepped aboard. The old man then tried to rise and follow, +assisted by the maid, but, after one or two efforts, sank back, +incapable of keeping his feet. Upon this Zac flung the rope to the +French lieutenant, and walked over to the old man. Claude now had +returned, having left the girl in the stern of the boat. + +"Look here," said Zac, as he came up; "the old gentleman can't walk. +You'd best carry him aboard, and I'll carry the gal." + +With these words Zac turned towards the maid; she looked up at him +with a shy glance and showed such a pretty face, such black eyes and +smiling lips, that Zac for a moment hesitated, feeling quite +paralyzed by an overflow of bashfulness. But it was not a time to +stand on ceremony; and so honest Zac, without more ado, seized the +girl in his arms, and bore her to the boat, where he deposited her +carefully by the side of the other. Claude now followed, carrying the +old man, whom he placed beside the young lady, so that he and the +maid could support her as before. There was yet room for one more, +and the gentleman still on the raft came forward at Claude's +invitation, and took his place in the bows. The rest waited on the +raft. The boat then returned to the schooner, which now had come very +close. Here Claude lifted the lady high in the air, and Pere Michel +took her from his arms. Claude then got on board the schooner, and +took her to the cabin, where he laid her on a couch. Zac then lifted +up the maid, who was helped on board by Pere Michel, where Claude met +her, and took her to the cabin. Zac then lifted up the old man, and +Pere Michel stood ready to receive him also. + +And now a singular incident occurred. As Zac raised the old man, Pere +Michel caught sight of the face, and regarded it distinctly. The old +man's eyes were half closed, and he took no notice of anything; but +there was something in that face which produced a profound impression +on Pere Michel. He stood rigid, as though rooted to the spot, looking +at the old man with a fixed stare. Then his arms sank down, his head +also fell forward, and turning abruptly away, he walked forward to +the bows. Upon this Jericho came forward; and he it was who lifted +the old man on board and assisted him to the cabin. + +After this, the other gentleman got on board, and then the boat +returned and took off the other occupants of the raft. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +NEW FRIENDS. + +Every arrangement was made that could be made within the confines of +a small schooner to secure the comfort of the strangers. To the young +lady and her maid Claude gave up the state-room which he himself had +thus far occupied, and which was the best on board, while Zac gave up +his to the old man. The others were all comfortably disposed of, and +Zac and Claude stowed themselves away as best they could feeling +indifferent about themselves as long as they could minister to the +wants of their guests. Food and sleep were the things that were the +most needed by all these new-comers, and these they had in abundance. +Under the beneficial effects of these, they began to regain their +strength. The seaman rallied first, as was most natural; and from +these Claude learned the story of their misfortunes. + +The lost ship had been the French frigate Arethuse, which had left +Brest about a moth previously, on a voyage to Louisbourg and Quebec. +The old gentleman was the Comte de Laborde, and the two girls whom +they had saved, one was his daughter, and the other her maid. The +other gentleman was the Comte de Cazeneau. This last was on his way +to Louisbourg, where an important post was awaiting him. About a week +before this the Arethuse had encountered a severe gale, accompanied +by a dense fog, in which they had lost their reckoning. To add to +their miseries, they found themselves surrounded by icebergs, among +which navigation was so difficult that the seamen all became +demoralized. At length the ship struck one of these floating masses, +and instantly began to fill. The desperate efforts of the crew, +however, served to keep her afloat for another day, and might have +saved her, had it not been for the continuation of the fog. On the +following night, in the midst of intense darkness, she once more +struck against an iceberg, and this time the consequences were more +serious. A huge fragment of ice fell upon the poop, shattering it and +sweeping it overboard. In an instant all discipline was at an end. It +was _sauve qui peut_. The crew took to the boats. One of these went +down with all on board, while the others passed away into the +darkness. This little handful had thrown themselves upon the ship's +poop, which was floating alongside within reach, just in time to +escape being dragged down by the sinking ship; and there, for days +and nights, with scarcely any food, and no shelter whatever, they had +drifted amid the dense fog, until all hope had died out utterly. Such +had been their situation when rescue came. + +Claude, upon hearing this story, expressed a sympathy which was most +sincere; and to the seamen it was all the pleasanter as his accent +showed him to be a countryman. But the general sympathy which the +young man felt, sincere though it was, could not be compared with +that special sympathy which he experienced for the lovely young girl +whom he had borne from the raft into the schooner, and whose deep +glance of speechless gratitude had never since faded from his memory. +She was now aboard, and was occupying his own room. More than this, +she had already taken up a position within his mind which was a +pre-eminent one. She had driven out every thought of everything else. +The highest desire which he had was to see once again that face which +had become so vividly impressed upon his memory, and find out what it +might be like in less anxious moments. But for this he would have to +wait. + +Meanwhile the schooner had resumed her voyage, in which, however, she +made but slow progress. The wind, which had come up so opportunely, +died out again; and, though the fog had gone, still for a few days +they did little else than drift. + +After the first day and night the Count de Laborde came upon deck. He +was extremely feeble, and had great difficulty in walking; with him +were his daughter and her maid. Although her exhaustion and +prostration on the raft had, apparently, been even greater than his, +yet youth was on her side, and she had been able to rally much more +rapidly. She and her maid supported the feeble old count, and +anxiously anticipated his wants with the fondest care. + +Claude had hoped for this appearance, and was not disappointed. He +had seen her first as she was emerging from the valley of the shadow +of death, with the stamp of sorrow and despair upon her features; but +now no trace of despair remained; her face was sweet and joyous +beyond expression, with the grace of a child-like innocence and +purity. The other passenger, whom the lieutenant of the Arethuse had +called the Count de Cazeneau, was also on deck, and, on seeing +Laborde and his daughter, he hastened towards them with the utmost +fervor of congratulations. The lieutenant also went to pay his +respects. The young countess was most gracious, thanking them for +their good wishes, and assuring them that she was as well as ever; +and then her eyes wandered away, and, after a brief interval, at +length rested with a fixed and earnest look full upon Claude. The +glance thrilled through him. For a moment he stood as if fixed to the +spot; but at length, mastering his emotion, he went towards her. + +"Here he is, papa, dearest," said she,--"our noble deliverer.--And, +O, monsieur, how can we ever find words to thank you?" + +"Dear monsieur," said the old count, embracing Claude, "Heaven will +reward you; our words are useless.--Mimi," he continued, turning to +his daughter, "your dream was a true one.--You must know, monsieur, +that she dreamed that a young Frenchman came in an open boat to save +us. And so it really was." + +Mimi smiled and blushed. + +"Ah, papa, dear," she said, "I dreamed because I hoped. I always +hoped, but you always desponded. And now it has been better than our +hopes.--But, monsieur, may we not know the name of our deliverer?" + +She held out her little hand as she said this. Claude raised it +respectfully to his lips, bowing low as he did so. He then gave his +name, but hastened to assure them that he was not their preserver, +insisting that Zac had the better claim to that title. To this, +however, the others listened with polite incredulity, and Mimi +evidently considered it all the mere expression of a young man's +modesty. She waved her little hand with a sunny smile. + +"_Eh bien_," she said, "I see, monsieur, it pains you to have people +too grateful; so we will say no more about it. We must satisfy +ourselves by remembering and by praying." + +Here the conversation was interrupted by the interposition of the +Count de Cazeneau, who came forward to add his thanks to those of +Laborde. He made a little set speech, to which Claude listened with +something of chagrin, for he did not like being placed in the +position of general savior and preserver, when he knew that Zac +deserved quite as much credit for what had been done as he did. This +was not unobserved by Mimi, who appreciated his feelings and came to +his relief. + +"M. Motier does not like being praised," said she. "Let us respect +his delicacy." + +But Cazeneau was not to be stopped so easily. He seemed like one who +had prepared a speech carefully and with much labor, and was, +accordingly, bound to give it all; so Claude was forced to listen to +an eloquent and inflated panegyric about himself and his heroism, +without being able to offer anything more than an occasional modest +disclaimer. And all the time the deep, dark glance of Mimi was fixed +on him, as though she would read his soul. If, indeed, he had any +skill in reading character, it was easy enough to see in the face of +that young man a pure, a lofty, and a generous nature, unsullied by +anything mean or low, a guileless and earnest heart, a soul _sans +peur et sans reproche_; and it did seem by the expression of her own +face as though she had read all this in Claude. + +Further conversation of a general nature followed, which served to +explain the position of all of them with reference to one another. +Claude was the virtual master of the schooner, since he had chartered +it for his own purposes. To all of them, therefore, he seemed first +their savior, and secondly their host and entertainer, to whom they +were bound to feel chiefly grateful. Yet none the less did they +endeavor to include the honest skipper in their gratitude; and Zac +came in for a large share of it. Though he could not understand any +of the words which they addressed to him, yet he was easily able to +guess what they were driving at, and so he modestly disclaimed it all +with the expression,-- + +"O, sho! sho, now! sho, sho!" + +They now learned that Claude was on his way to Louisbourg, and that +they would thus be able to reach their original destination. They +also learned the circumstances of Zac, and his peculiar unwillingness +to trust his schooner inside the harbor of Louisbourg. Zac's scruples +were respected by them, though they all declared that there was no +real danger. They were sufficiently satisfied to be able to reach any +point near Louisbourg, and did not seek to press Zac against his +will, or to change his opinion upon a point where it was so strongly +expressed. + +No sooner had these new passengers thus unexpectedly appeared, than a +very marked change came over Pere Michel, which to Claude was quite +inexplicable. To him and to Zac the good priest had thus far seemed +everything that was most amiable and companionable; but now, ever +since the moment when he had turned away at the sight of the face of +Laborde, he had grown strangely silent, and reticent, and +self-absorbed. Old Laborde had made advances which had been coldly +repelled. Cazeneau, also, had tried to draw him out, but without +success. To the lieutenant only was he at all inclined to unbend. Yet +this strange reserve did not last long, and at length Pere Michel +regained his old manner, and received the advances of Laborde with +sufficient courtesy, while to Mimi he showed that paternal gentleness +which had already endeared him to Claude and to Zac. + +Several days thus passed, during which but little progress was made. +The schooner seemed rather to drift than to sail. Whenever a slight +breeze would arise, it was sure to be adverse, and was not of long +duration. Then a calm would follow, and the schooner would lie idle +upon the bosom of the deep. + +During these days Mimi steadily regained her strength; and the bloom +and the sprightliness of youth came back, and the roses began to +return to her cheeks, and her wan face resumed its plumpness, and her +eyes shone with the light of joyousness. Within the narrow confines +of a small schooner, Claude was thrown in her way more frequently +than could have been the case under other circumstances; and the +situation in which they were placed towards one another connected +them more closely, and formed a bond which made an easy way to +friendship, and even intimacy. As a matter of course, Claude found +her society pleasanter by far than that of any one else on board; +while, on the other hand, Mimi did not seem at all averse to his +companionship. She seemed desirous to know all about him. + +"But, monsieur," she said once, in the course of a conversation, "it +seems strange to me that you have lived so long among the English +here in America." + +"It is strange," said Claude; "and, to tell the truth, I don't +altogether understand myself how it has happened." + +"Ah, you don't understand yourself how it has happened," repeated +Mimi, in a tone of voice that was evidently intended to elicit +further confidences. + +"No," said Claude, who was not at all unwilling to receive her as his +confidante. "You see I was taken away from France when I was an +infant." + +"When you were an infant!" said Mimi. "How very, very sad!" and +saying this, she turned her eyes, with a look full of deepest +commiseration, upon him. "And so, of course, you cannot remember +anything at all about France." + +Claude shook his head. + +"No, nothing at all," said he. "But I'm on my way there now; and I +hope to see it before long. It's the most beautiful country in all +the world--isn't it?' + +"Beautiful!" exclaimed Mimi, throwing up her eyes; "there are no +words to describe it. It is heaven! Alas! how can I ever bear to live +here in this wild and savage wilderness of America!" + +"You did not wish to leave France then?" said Claude, who felt +touched by this display of feeling. + +"I!" exclaimed Mimi; "I wish to leave France! Alas, monsieur! it was +the very saddest day of all my life. But dear papa had to go, and I +do not know why it was. He offered to let me stay; but I could not +let him go alone, for he is so old and feeble, and I was willing to +endure all for his sake." + +"What part of France did you live in?" asked Claude. + +"Versailles." + +"That is where the court is," said Claude. + +"Of course," said Mimi, with a smile. "But how funny it seems to hear +a Frenchman make such a remark, and in such an uncertain way, as +though he did not feel quite sure. Why, monsieur, in France +Versailles is everything; Versailles is the king and court. In a +word, monsieur, Versailles is France." + +"I suppose you saw very much of the splendor and magnificence of the +court?" said Claude. + +"I!" said Mimi; "splendor and magnificence! the court! _Ma foi_, +monsieur, I did not see any of it at all. In France young girls are +kept close-guarded. You have lived among the English, and among them +I have heard that young girls can go anywhere and do anything. But +for my part I have always lived most secluded--sometimes at school, +and afterwards at home." + +"How strange it is," said Claude, "that your father should leave +France, when he is so old and feeble, and take you, too, and come to +this wild country!" + +"O, it is very strange," said Mimi, "and very sad; and I don't know +why in the world it was, for he will never tell me. Sometimes I think +that something unfortunate has happened, which has made him go into +exile this way. But then, if that were so, I don't see why he should +remain in French possessions. If his political enemies have driven +him away, he would not be safe in French colonies; and so I don't +know why in the world he ever left home." + +"Does he intend to remain at Louisbourg, or go farther?" asked +Claude, after a thoughtful pause. + +"I'm sure I don't know," said Mimi; "but I don't think he has decided +yet. It is just as if he was looking for something, and as if he +would travel about till he found it; though what it is that he wants +I can hardly tell. And such, monsieur, is our mournful position. We +may remain at Louisbourg a short time or a long time: it depends upon +circumstances. We may go to Quebec, or even to New Orleans." + +"New Orleans!" exclaimed Claude. + +"Yes; I heard him hint as much. And he said, also, that if he did go +as far as that, he would leave me at Quebec or Louisbourg. But I will +never consent to that, and I will go with him wherever he goes." + +"I should think that such a roving life would make you feel very +unhappy." + +"O, no; I am not unhappy," said Mimi, cheerfully. "I should, indeed, +feel unhappy if I were left behind in France, or anywhere else, and +if poor papa should go roaming about without any one to care for him. +I am not much; but I know that he loves me dearly, and that he is +very much happier with me than without me. And that is the reason why +I am determined to go with him wherever he goes,--yes, even if he +goes among the savages. Besides, while I am with him, he has a +certain amount of anxiety about me, and this distracts his thoughts, +and prevents him from brooding too much over his own personal +troubles. But O, how I envy you, Monsieur Motier, and O, how I should +love to be going back to France, if dear papa were only going there +too! I shall never be happy again, I know, never, till I am back +again in France." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +MIMI AND MARGOT. + + +While Claude was doing the honors of hospitality to the guests aft, +the crew of the Parson was fraternizing with the seamen of the +wrecked Arethuse, forward. The first and most important act of +friendly intercourse was the work of Jericho, who put forth all his +skill in preparing for the half-starved sailors a series of repasts +upon which he lavished all his genius, together with the greater part +of the stores of the schooner. To these repasts the seamen did ample +justice, wasting but little time in unnecessary words, but eating as +only those can eat who have been on the borders of starvation. Yet it +may be questioned whether their voracity exceeded that of a certain +melancholy boy, who waited on the banquet, and whose appetite seemed +now even more insatiable in the midst of the abundant supplies which +Jericho produced, than it had been in former days, when eatables had +been less choice and repasts less frequent. In fact, Biler outdid +himself, and completely wore out the patience of the long-suffering +Jericho. + +"You jes look heah, you Biler," he said; "you better mind, for I +ain't goin' to stand dese yer goins on no longer. Bar's limits to +eberyting--and dese yer 'visiums has got to be 'commonized, an' not +to be all gobbled up by one small boy. Tell you what, I got a great +mind to put you on a lowns, an' gib you one rore turnip a day, an' ef +you can ketch a fish I'll 'gree to cook it. Why, dar ain't de vessel +afloat dat can stand dis yer. You eat fifty-nine meals a day, an' +more. You nebber do notin' else but eat--morn', noon, an' night." + +"Arrah, Jerry, let the b'y ate his fill," said Terry: "sure an' a +growin' b'y has to ate more'n a grown man, so as to get flesh to grow +wid." + +"Can't do it," said Jerry, "an' won't do it. Didn't mind it so much +afore, but now we'se got to 'commonize. Bar's ebber so many more +moufs aboard now, an' all on 'em eat like sin. Dis yer calm keeps us +out heah in one spot, an' when we're ebber a goin' to get to de end +ov de vyge's more'n I can tell. No use frowin' away our val'ble +'visiums on dis yer boy--make him eat soap fat and oakum--good enough +for him. No 'casium for him to be eatin' a hundred times more'n all +de res ob us. If he wants to eat he'll hab to find his own 'visiums, +an' ketch a shark, an' I'll put it in pickle for he own private use." + +With these words Jericho turned away with deep trouble and perplexity +visible on his ebon brow, and Biler, pocketing a few potatoes and +turnips, climbed to the mast-head, where he sat gazing in a +melancholy way into space. + +To Terry these new comers were most welcome. At a distance he +professed to hate and despise the French; but now that they appeared +face to face, his hate was nowhere, and in its place there was +nothing but a most earnest desire to form an eternal friendship with +the shipwrecked seamen. There was certainly one difficulty in the way +which was of no slight character; and that was, that neither of them +knew the language of the other. But Terry was not easily daunted, and +the very presence of a difficulty was enough to make him feel eager +to triumph over it. + +In his first approaches he made the very common mistake of addressing +the French sailors as though they were deaf. Thus he went up to them +one after the other, shaking hands with each, and shouting in their +ears as loud as he could, "_How do yez do_?" "_Good day_." "_The top +av the mornin' to yez_." To which the good-natured Frenchmen +responded in a sympathetic way, shaking his hand vigorously,--and +grinning and chattering. Terry kept this up for some time; but at +length it became somewhat monotonous, and he set his wits to work to +try to discover some more satisfactory mode of effecting a +communication with them. The next way that he thought of was +something like the first, and, like the first, is also frequently +resorted to by those who have occasion to speak to foreigners. It was +to address them in broken English, or rather in a species of baby +talk; for to Terry it seemed no more than natural that this sort of +dialect would be more intelligible than the speech of full-grown men. + +Accordingly, as soon as Terry thought of this, he put it in practice. +He began by shaking hands once more, and then said to them, "Me +berry glad see you--me sposy you berry hundy. Polly want a cracker. +He sall hab penty mate den, so he sall. Did de naughty water boos um +den?" + +But unfortunately this effort proved as much of a failure as the +other; so Terry was once more compolled to trust to his wits. Those +wits of his, being active, did not fail, indeed, to suggest many +ways, and of the best kind, by which he brought himself into +communication with his new friends. At the first repast he found this +out, and insisted upon passing everything to them with his own hands, +accompanying each friendly offer with an affectionate smile, which +went straight to the hearts of the forlorn and half-starved guests. +This was a language which was every way intelligible, the language of +universal humanity, in which the noblest precept is, to be kind to +enemies and to feed the hungry. + +In addition to this, Terry also found out other ways of holding +communication with them, the chief of which was by the language of +song. Terry's irrepressible tendency to singing thus burst forth in +their presence, and after trolling out a few Irish melodies, he +succeeded in eliciting from them a sympathetic response in the shape +of some lively French songs. The result proved most delightful to all +concerned; and thereafter the muse of Ireland and the muse of France +kept up a perpetual antiphonal song, which beguiled many a tedious +hour. + +While the various characters on board the schooner were thus entering +into communication with one another, Zac endeavored also to scrape an +acquaintance with one of the rescued party, who seemed to him to be +worth all the rest put together. This was Mimi's maid, Margot, a +beautiful little creature, full of life and spirit, and fit companion +for such a mistress as hers. The good little Margot was very +accessible, and had not failed to pour forth in language not very +intelligible her sense of gratitude to Zac. She had not forgotten +that it was Zac who had conveyed her in his strong arms from death to +life, and therefore persisted in regarding him not only as the +preserver of her own self, but as the real and only preserver of all +the others. + +Margot had one advantage which was delightful to Zac; and that was, +she could speak a little English. She had once spent a year in +England, where she had picked up enough of the language to come and +go upon, and this knowledge now proved to be of very great advantage. + +The calm weather which continued gave Zac many opportunities of +drifting away towards Margot, and talking with her, in which talks +they gradually grew to be better acquainted. + +"I am so happy zat I spik Ingelis!" said Margot; "I nevar did sink +dat it was evare useful." + +"An' pooty blamed lucky it's ben for me, too," said Zac, in a joyous +tone; "for as I don't know French, like Claude over there, I have to +trust to you to keep up the conversation." + +"I not know mooch Ingelis," said Margot, "for I not understan de +mooch of what you say." + +"O, you'll learn dreadful fast out here," said Zac. + +"But I not weesh to stay here so long as to learn," said Margot. + +"Not wish! Sho, now! Why, it's a better country than France." + +"Than France--better!" cried Margot, lifting her hands and throwing +up her eyes in amazement. "France! Monsieur, France is a +heaven--mais--dees--dees--is different." + +"Why, what's the matter with America?" said Zac. + +"Amerique--eet ees all full of de sauvage--de Indian--de wild +men--an' wild beasts--an' desert." + +"O, you ain't ben to Boston; that's clar," said Zac, mildly. "Jest +you wait till you see Boston; that's all." + +"Boston! I nevare hear of Boston," said Margot, "till you tell me. I +do not believe eet it is more magnifique dan Paris." + +"The most magnificent town in the hull world," said Zac, calmly. "You +take the House of Assembly an' Govement House--take King Street and +Queen Street, an' I'd like to know whar you'll find a better show any +whar on airth." + +"Sais pas," said Margot; "nevare see Boston. Mais vous--you nevare +see Paris--so we are not able to compare." + +"O, well, it's nat'ral enough for you," said Zac, with magnanimity, +"nat'ral enough for you, course, to like your own place +best--'twouldn't be nat'ral ef you didn't. All your friends live +thar, course. You were born thar, and I s'pose your pa an' ma may be +there now, anxiously expectin' to hear from you." + +Zac put this in an interrogative way, for he wanted to know. But as +he said these words, the smiling face of Margot turned sad; she shook +her head, and said,-- + +"No; I have no one, no one!" + +"What! no relatives!" said Zac, in a voice full of commiseration and +tender pity. + +Margot shook her head. + +"An' so you've got no father nor mother, an' you're a poor little +orphan girl!" said Zac, in a broken voice. + +Margot shook her head, and looked sadder than over. + +Tears came to Zac's eyes. He felt as he had never felt before. There +was something so inexpressibly touching about this orphan! He took +her little hand tenderly in his own great, brown, toil-worn fist, and +looked at her very wistfully. For a few moments he said nothing. +Margot looked up at him with her great brown eyes, and then looked +meekly at the deck. Zac heaved a deep sigh; then he placed his +disengaged hand solemnly upon her head. + +"Wal," said he, gravely, "I'll protect you. Ef anybody ever harms +you, you jest come to me. I'll--I'll be--a father to you." + +Again Margot looked up at him with her great brown eyes. + +"O, dat's noting," she said. "I don't want you to be my fader. But, +all de same, I tink you one very nice man; an' you safe my life; an' +I sall not forget--nevare; an' I weesh--. Sall I tell you what I +weesh?" + +"Yes, yes," said Zac, eagerly, with a strange thrill of excitement. + +Margot threw a quick look around. + +"Dees Monsieur de Cazeneau," said she, drawing nearer to Zac, and +speaking in a low, quick voice, "I 'fraid of heem. Dere is danjaire +for my mademoiselle. He is a bad man. He haf a plot--a plan. You moos +safe us. Dees Monsieur Motier is no good. You haf safe us from death; +you moos safe us from dees danjaire." + +"How?" asked Zac, who took in at once the meaning of Margot's words, +though not fully understanding them. + +"I will tell. Dess Monsieur de Cazeneau wish to get us to Louisbourg, +where he will ruin us all--dat is, de ole count and de mademoiselle. +You moos turn about, and take us to Boston." + +"Take you to Boston! But this schooner is engaged to go to Louisbourg +with Mr. Motier." + +Margot shook her head. + +"You moos do it," said she, "or we sall be ruin. You moos tell +Monsieur Motier--" + +Zac now began questioning her further; but Margot could not remain +any longer; she therefore hurried away, with the promise to see him +again and explain more about it; and Zac was left alone with his own +thoughts, not knowing exactly what he could say to Claude, or how he +could make up, out of Margot's scanty information, a story which +might offer sufficient ground for a change in the purpose of the +voyage. + +Meanwhile Claude had seen Mimi at various times, and had conversed +with her, as before, in a very confidential manner. The danger of +which Margot had spoken was present in Mimi's thoughts, also; and she +was anxious to secure Claude's assistance. + +Thus it was that Mimi communicated to Claude all about her personal +affairs. There was something almost childish in this ready +communicativeness; but she knew no reason for concealing anything, +and therefore was thus frank and outspoken. Claude, also, was quite +as willing to tell all about himself; though his own story was +somewhat more involved, and could not be told piecemeal, but required +a longer and more elaborate explanation. + +"Have you many friends in France?" asked Mimi, in an abrupt sort of +way, the next time they met. + +"Friends in France?" repeated Claude; "not one, that I know of." + +"No friends! Then what can you do there?" she asked, innocently. + +"Well, I don't know yet," said he. "I will see when I get there. The +fact is, I am going there to find out something about my own +family--my parents and myself." + +At this Mimi fastened her large eyes upon Claude with intense +interest. + +"How strangely you talk!" said she. + +"I'll tell you a secret," said Claude, after a pause. + +"What?" she asked. + +"You will never tell it to any one? It's very important." + +"I tell it?" repeated Mimi; "I! Never. Of course not. So, now, what +is the secret?" + +"Well, it's this: my name is not Motier." + +"Well," said Mimi, "I'm sure I'm very glad that it isn't; and it +seemed strange when you told me first, for Motier is a plebeian name; +and you certainly are no plebeian." + +"I am not a plebeian," said Claude, proudly. "You are right. My name +is one of the noblest in France. I wonder if you can tell me what I +want to know!" + +"I! Why, how can I?" said Mimi. "But I should so like to know what +it is that you want to know! And O, monsieur, I should so love to +know what is your real name and family!" + +"Well," said Claude, "I don't as yet know much about it myself. But I +do know what my real name is. I am the Count de Montresor." + +"Montresor," exclaimed Mimi, "Montresor!" + +As she said this, there was an evident agitation in her voice and +manner which did not escape Claude. + +"What's the matter?" said he. "You know something. Tell me what it +is! O, tell me!" + +Mimi looked at him very earnestly. + +"I don't know," said she; "I don't know anything at all. I only know +this, that poor papa's troubles are connected in some way with some +one whose name is Montresor. But his troubles are a thing that I am +afraid to speak about, and therefore I have never found out anything +about them. So I don't know anything about Montresor, more than this. +And the trouble is something terrible, I know," continued Mimi, "for +it has forced him, at his time of life, to leave his home and become +an exile. And I'm afraid--that is, I imagine--that he himself has +done some wrong in his early life to some Montresor. But I'm afraid +to ask him; and I think now that the sole object of his journey is to +atone for this wrong that he has done. And O, monsieur, now that you +tell your name, now that you say how you have been living here all +your life, I have a fearful suspicion that my papa has been the cause +of it. Montrosor! How strange!" + +Mimi was very much agitated; so much so, indeed, that Claude repented +having told her this. But it was now too late to repent, and he could +only try to find some way of remedying the evil. + +"Suppose I go to your father," said he, "and tell him who I am, and +all about myself." + +"No, no," cried Mimi, earnestly; "do not! O, do not! I would not have +you for worlds. My hope is, that he may give up his search and go +home again, and find peace. There is nothing that you can do. What it +is that troubles him I don't know; but it was something that took +place before you or I were born--many, many years ago. You can do +nothing. You would only trouble him the more. If he has done wrong to +you or yours, you would only make his remorse the worse, for he would +see in you one whom his acts have made an exile." + +"O, nonsense!" said Claude, cheerily; "I haven't been anything of the +kind. For my part, I've lived a very happy life indeed; and it's only +of late that I found out my real name. I'll tell you all about it +some time, and then you'll understand better. As to anybody feeling +remorse about my life, that's all nonsense. I consider my life rather +an enviable one thus far." + +At this Mimi's agitation left her, and she grew calm again. She +looked at Claude with a glance of deep gratitude, and said,-- + +"O, how glad, how very glad, I am to hear you say that! Perhaps you +may be able yet to tell that to my dear papa. But still, I do not +wish you to say anything to him at all till I may find some time when +you may do it safely. And you will promise me--will you not?--that +you will keep this a secret from him till he is able to bear it." + +"Promise? Of course," said Claude. + +She held out her hand, and Claude took it and carried it to his lips. +They had been sitting at the bows of the schooner during this +conversation. No one was near, and they had been undisturbed. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +A STRANGE REVELATION. + + +The old Count Laborde had been too much weakened by suffering and +privation to recover very rapidly. For a few days he spent most of +his time reclining upon a couch in the little cabin, where Mimi +devoted herself to him with the tenderest care. At times she would +come upon deck at the urgent request of her father, and then Claude +would devote himself to her with still more tender care. The old man +did not take much notice of surrounding things. He lay most of the +time with his eyes closed, in a half-dreamy state, and it was only +with an effort that he was able to rouse himself to speak. He took no +notice whatever of any one but his daughter. Cazeneau made several +efforts to engage his attention, but he could not be roused. + +Thus there were short intervals, on successive days, when Claude was +able to devote himself to Mimi, for the laudable purpose of beguiling +the time which he thought must hang heavy on her hands. He considered +that as he was in some sort the master of the schooner, these +strangers were all his guests, and he was therefore bound by the +sacred laws of hospitality to make it as pleasant for them as +possible. Of course, also, it was necessary that he should exert his +hospitable powers most chiefly for the benefit of the lady; and this +necessity he followed up with very great spirit and assiduity. + +By the conversation which he had already had with her, it will be +seen that they had made rapid advances towards intimacy. Claude was +eager to extend this advance still farther, to take her still more +into his confidence, and induce her to take him into hers. He was +very eager to tell her all about himself, and the nature of his +present voyage; he was still more eager to learn from her all that +she might know about the Montresor family. And thus he was ever on +the lookout for her appearance on deck. + +These appearances were not so frequent as he desired; but Mimi's +devotion to her father kept her below most of the time. At such times +Claude did the agreeable to the other passengers, with varying +success. With the lieutenant he succeeded in ingratiating himself +very rapidly; but with Cazeneau all his efforts proved futile. There +was about this man a sullen reserve and _hauteur_ which made +conversation difficult and friendship impossible. Claude was full of +_bonhomie_, good-nature generally, and sociability; but Cazeneau was +more than he could endure; so that, after a few attempts, he retired, +baffled, vexed at what he considered the other's aristocratic pride. +What was more noticed by him now, was the fact that Pere Michel had +grown more reserved with him; not that there was any visible change +in the good priest's friendly manner, but he seemed pro-occupied and +strangely self-absorbed. And so things went on. + +Meantime the schooner can hardly be said to have gone on at all. What +with light head winds, and currents, and calms, her progress was but +slow. This state of things was very irritating to Zac, who began to +mutter something about these rascally Moosoos bringing bad luck, and +"he'd be darned if he wouldn't like to know where in blamenation it +was all going to end." But as Claude was no longer so good a listener +as he used to be, Zac grew tired of talking to empty space, and +finally held his peace. The winds and tides, and the delay, however, +made no difference with Claude, nor did it interfere in the slightest +with his self-content and self-complacency. In fact, he looked as +though he rather enjoyed the situation; and this was not the least +aggravating thing in the surroundings to the mind of the impatient +skipper. + +Thus several days passed, and at length Claude had an opportunity of +drawing Mimi into another somewhat protracted conversation. + +"I am very much obliged to you," said Claude, gayly, "for making your +appearance. I have been trying to do the agreeable to your shipmate +Cazeneau, but without success. Is he always so amiable? and is he a +friend of yours?" + +Mimi looked at Claude with a very serious expression as he said this, +and was silent for a few minutes. + +"He is a friend of papa's," said she at last. "He came out with us--" + +"Is he a great friend of yours?" asked Claude. + +Mimi hesitated for a moment, and then said,-- + +"No; I do not like him at all." + +Claude drew a long breath. + +"Nor do I," said he. + +"Perhaps I am doing him injustice," said Mimi, "but I cannot help +feeling as though he is in some way connected with dear papa's +troubles. I do not mean to say that he is the cause of them. I merely +mean that, as far as I know anything about them, it is always in such +a way that he seems mixed up with them. And I don't think, either, +that his face is very much in his favor, for there is something so +harsh and cruel in his expression, that I always wish that papa had +chosen some different kind of a person for his friend and confidant." + +"Is he all that?" asked Claude. + +"O, I suppose so," said Mimi. "They have secrets together, and make, +together, plans that I know nothing about." + +"Do you suppose," asked Claude, "that you will ever be in any way +connected with their plans?" + +He put this question, which was a general one, in a very peculiar +tone, which indicated some deeper meaning. It seemed as though Mimi +understood him, for she threw at him a hurried and half-frightened +look. + +"Why?" she asked. "What makes you ask such a question as that?" + +"O, I don't know," said Claude. "The thought merely entered my +mind--perhaps because I dislike him, and suspect him, and am ready to +imagine all kinds of evil about him." + +Mimi regarded him now with a very earnest look, and said nothing for +some time. + +"Have you any recollection," she asked, at length, "of ever having +seen his face anywhere, at any time, very long ago?" + +Claude shook his head. + +"Not the slightest," said he. "I never saw him in all my life, or any +one like him, till I saw him on the raft. But what makes you ask so +strange a question?" + +"I hardly know," said Mimi, "except that he seems so in papa's +confidence,--and I know that papa's chief trouble arises from some +affair that he had with some Montresor,--and I thought--well, I'll +tell you what I thought. I thought that, as this Montresor had to +leave France--that perhaps he had been followed to America, or sought +after; and, as you are a member of that family, you might have seen +some of those who were watching the family; and the Count do Cazeneau +seemed to be one who might be connected with it. But I'm afraid I'm +speaking in rather a confused way; and no wonder, for I hardly know +what it is that I do really suspect." + +"O, I understand," said Claude; "you suspect that my father was +badly treated, and had to leave France, and that this man was at the +bottom of it. Well, I dare say he was, and that he is quite capable +of any piece of villany; but as to his hunting us in America, I can +acquit him of that charge, as far as my experience goes, for I never +saw him, and never heard of any one ever being on our track. But +can't you tell me something more definite about it? Can't you tell me +exactly what you know?" + +Mimi shook her head. + +"I don't know anything," said she, "except what little I told +you--that poor papa's trouble of mind comes from some wrong which he +did to some Montresor, who had to go to America. And you may not be +connected with that Montresor, after all; but I'm afraid you must be, +and that--you--will have to be--poor papa's--enemy." + +"Never!" said Claude, vehemently; "never! not if your +father--Whatever has happened, I will let it pass--so far as I am +concerned." + +"O, you don't know what it is that has happened." + +"Neither do you, for that matter; so there now; and for my part I +don't want to know, and I won't try to find out, if you think I'd +better not." + +"I don't dare to think anything about it; I only know that a good son +has duties towards his parents, and that he must devote his life to +the vindication of their honor." + +"Undoubtedly," said Claude, placidly; "but as it happens my parents +have never communicated to me any story of any wrongs of theirs, I +know very little about them. They never desired that I should +investigate their lives; and, as I have never heard of any wrongs +which they suffered, I don't see how I can go about to vindicate +their honor. I have, by the merest chance, come upon something which +excited my curiosity, and made me anxious to know something more. I +have had no deeper feeling than curiosity; and if you think that my +search will make me an enemy of your father, I hereby give up the +search, and decline to pursue it any farther. In fact, I'll fall back +upon my old name and rank, and become plain Claude Motier." + +Claude tried to speak in an off-hand tone; but his assumed +indifference could not conceal the deep devotion of the look which he +gave to Mimi, or the profound emotion which was in his heart. It was +for her sake that he thus offered to relinquish his purpose. She knew +it and felt it. + +"I'm sure," said she, "I don't know what to say to that. I'm afraid +to say anything. I don't know what may happen yet; you may at any +time find out something which would break through all your +indifference, and fill you with a thirst for vengeance. I don't know, +and you don't know, what may be--before us. So don't make any rash +offers, but merely do as I asked you before; and that is,--while papa +is here,--refrain from mentioning this subject to him. It is simply +for the sake of his--his peace of mind--and--and--his health. I know +it will excite him so dreadfully--that I tremble for the result." + +"O, of course," said Claude, "I promise, as I did before. You needn't +be at all afraid." + +"Would you have any objection," she asked, after a short silence, "to +tell me how much you do really know?" + +"Of course not," said Claude, with his usual frankness. "I'll tell +you the whole story. There isn't much of it. I always believed myself +to be the son of Jean Motier, until a short time ago. We lived near +Boston, a place that you, perhaps, have heard of. He was always +careful to give me the best education that could be had in a colony, +and particularly in all the accomplishments of a gentleman. We were +both very happy, and lived very well, and I called him father, and he +called me son; and so things went on until a few weeks ago. I went +off hunting with some British officers, and on my return found the +old man dying. The shock to me was a terrible one. At that time I +believed that it was my father that I was losing. What made it worse, +was the evident fact that there was something on his mind, something +that he was longing to tell me; but he could not collect his +thoughts, and he could only speak a few broken words. He kept +muttering, '_Mon tresor_, _Mon tresor_;' but I thought it was merely +some loving words of endearment to me, and did not imagine what they +really meant. Still I saw that there was something on his mind, and +that he died without being able to tell it." + +Claude paused for a moment, quite overcome by his recollections, and +Mimi's large dark eyes filled with tears in her deep sympathy with +his sorrows. + +"Well," said Claude, regaining his composure with an effort, "I'll go +on. As soon as he was buried I began to search the papers, partly to +see how the business was, and how I was situated in the world; but +more for the sake of trying to find out what this secret could be. +There was an old cabinet filled with papers and parcels, and here I +began my search. For a long time I found nothing but old business +letters and receipts; but at last I found some religious books--with +a name written in them. The name was Louise de Montresor. Well, no +sooner had I seen this than I at once recollected the words of my +father, as I supposed him, which I thought words of +endearment--Montresor, Montresor. I saw now that it was the name of a +person--of a woman; so this excited me greatly, and I continued the +search with greater ardor. + +"After a while I came to a drawer in which was a quantity of gold +coins, amounting to over a hundred guineas. In this same drawer was a +gold watch; on the back of it were engraved the letters L. D. M., +showing that it was evidently the property of this Louise de +Montresor. A gold chain was connected with it, upon which was +fastened a seal. On this was engraved a griffin rampant, with the +motto, _Noblesse oblige_. + +"Well, after this I found another drawer, in which were several +lady's ornaments, and among them was a package carefully wrapped up. +On opening it I found the miniature portrait of a lady, and this lady +was the same Louise de Montresor, for her name was written on the +back." + +"Have you it now?" asked Mimi, with intense interest. + +"Yes," said Claude; "and I'll show it to you some time. But I have +something else to show you just now. Wait a minute, and I'll explain. +After I found the portrait, I went on searching, and came to another +package. On opening this I found some papers which seemed totally +different from anything I had seen as yet. The ink was faded; the +writing was a plain, bold hand; and now I'll let you read this for +yourself; and you'll know as much as I do." + +Saying this, Claude produced from his pocket a paper, which he opened +and handed to Mimi. It was a sheet of foolscap, written on three +sides, in a plain, bold hand. The ink was quite faded. As Mimi took +the paper, her hand trembled with excitement, and over her face there +came a sudden anxious, half-frightened look, as though she dreaded to +make herself acquainted with the contents of this old document. + +After a moment's hesitation she mustered up her resolution, and began +to read. It was as follows:-- + + +"QUEBEC, June 10, 1725. + +"Instructions to Jean Motier with reference to my son, Claude de +Montresor, and my property. + +"As I do not know how long I shall be absent, I think it better to +leave directions about my son, which may be your guide in the event +of my death. I must stay away long enough to enable me to overcome +the grief that I feel. Long, long indeed, must it be before I shall +feel able to settle in any one place. The death of my dearest wife, +Louise, has left me desolate beyond expression, and there is no home +for me any more on earth, since she has gone. + +"I have property enough for you to bring up Claude as a gentleman. I +wish him to have the best education which he can get in the colonies. +I do not wish him to know about his family and the past history of +his unhappy parents until he shall be old enough to judge for +himself. In any case, I should wish him not to think of France. Let +him content himself in America. It is done. In France there is no +redress. The government is hopelessly corrupt, and there is no +possibility of wrong being righted. Besides, the laws against the +Huguenots are in full force, and he can never live with his mother's +enemies. I revere the sacred memory of my Huguenot wife, and curse +the knaves and fanatics who wronged her and cast her out; yet I thank +God that I was able to save her from the horrible fate that awaited +her. + +"I wish my son, therefore, to know nothing of France, at least until +he shall be of age, and his own master; and even then I should wish +him never to go there. Let him content himself in the colonies. For +how could he ever redeem the position which is lost? or how could he +hope to face the powerful and unscrupulous enemies who have wrought +my ruin; the false friend who betrayed me; his base and infernal +accomplice; the ungrateful government which did such foul wrong to a +loyal servant? All is lost. The estates are confiscated. The unjust +deed can never be undone. Let my son, therefore, resign himself to +fate, and be content with the position in which he may find himself. + +"The property will be sufficient to maintain him in comfort and +independence. Here he will have all that he may want; here the church +will give him her consolations without bigotry, or fanaticism, or +corruption, or persecution. He will be free from the vices and +temptations of the old world, and will have a happier fate than that +of his unhappy father. + +"EUGENE DE MONTRESOR." + + +Another paper was folded up with this. It was written in a different +hand, and was as follows:-- + + +"BOSTON, June 20, 1740. + +"Count Eugene de Montresor left on the 2d July, 1725, and has never +since been heard of. I have followed all his instructions, with one +exception. It was from the countess that I first heard the word of +life, and learned the truth. The priests at Quebec gave me no peace; +and so I had to leave and come here, among a people who are of +another nation, but own and hold my faith--the faith of the pure +worship of Christ. The count wished me to bring you up a Catholic; +but I had a higher duty than his will, and I have brought you up not +in your father's religion, but in your mother's faith. Your father +was a good man, though in error. He has, no doubt, long since +rejoined the saint who was his wife on earth; and I know that the +spirits of your father and mother smile approvingly on my acts. + +"If I die before I tell you all, dear Claude, you will see this, and +will understand that I did my duty to your parents and to you--" + +Here it ended abruptly. There was no name, and it was evidently +unfinished. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +A FRENCH FRIGATE. + + +Mimi read both papers through rapidly and breathlessly, and having +finished them, she read them over once more. As she finished the +second reading, Claude presented to her in silence a small package. +She took it in the same silence. On opening it, she saw inside a +miniature portrait of a lady--the same one which Claude had +mentioned. She was young and exquisitely beautiful, with rich dark +hair, that flowed luxuriantly around her head; soft hazel eyes, that +rested with inexpressible sweetness upon the spectator; and a gentle, +winning smile. This face produced an unwonted impression upon Mimi. +Long and eagerly did she gaze upon it, and when, at length, she +handed it back to Claude, her eyes were moist with tears. + +Claude replaced the portrait in its wrapper, and then restored it, +with the letters, to his pocket. For some time they sat in silence, +and then Claude said,-- + +"You see there is no great duty laid on me. Judging by the tone of +that letter, I should be doing my duty to my father if I did not go +to France--and if I did not seek after anything." + +"Ah! but how could you possibly live, and leave all this +unexplained?" + +"I could do it very easily," said Claude. + +"You don't know yourself." + +"O, yes, I could; I could live very easily and very happily--if I +only had your assistance." + +At these words, which were spoken in a low, earnest voice, full of +hidden meaning, Mimi darted a rapid glance at Claude, and caught his +eyes fixed on her. Her own eyes fell before the fervid eagerness of +the young man's gaze, a flush overspread her face, and she said not a +word. Nor did Claude say anything more just then; but it was rather +as though he felt afraid of having gone too far, for he instantly +changed the subject. + +"I'm afraid," said he, "that I shall not be able to find out very +much. You cannot give me any enlightenment, and there is nothing very +precise in these papers. The chief thing that I learned from them was +the fact that Jean Motier was not my father, but my guardian. Then a +few other things are stated which can easily be mentioned. First, +that my father was the Count Eugene de Montresor; then that he was +driven to exile by some false charge which he did not seem able to +meet; then, that his estates were confiscated; then, that his wife, +my mother, was a Huguenot, and also in danger. I see, also, that my +father considered his enemies altogether too powerful for any hope to +remain that he could resist them, and that finally, after my mother's +death, he grew weary of the world, and went away somewhere to die. + +"Now, the fact that he lived two years in Quebec made me have some +thoughts at first of going there; but afterwards I recollected how +long it had been since he was there, and it seemed quite improbable +that I should find any one now who could tell me anything about him; +while, if I went to France, I thought it might be comparatively easy +to learn the cause of his exile and punishment. And so, as I couldn't +find any vessels going direct from Boston, I concluded to go to +Louisbourg and take ship there. I thought also that I might find out +something at Louisbourg; though what I expected I can hardly say. + +"You spoke as though you supposed that this Cazeneau had something to +do with my father's trouble. Do you think that his present journey +has anything to do with it? That is, do you think he is coming out on +the same errand as your father?" + +"I really do not know what to say about that. I should think not. I +know that he has some office in Louisbourg, and I do not see what +motive he can have to search after the Montresors. I believe that +papa hopes to find your papa, so as to make some atonement, or +something of that sort; but I do not believe that Cazeneau is capable +of making atonement for anything. I do not believe that Cazeneau has +a single good quality. Cazeneau is my father's evil genius." + +Mimi spoke these words with much vehemence, not caring, in her +excitement, whether she was overheard or not; but scarce had she +uttered them than she saw emerging from the forecastle the head of +Cazeneau himself. She stopped short, and looked at him in amazement +and consternation. He bowed blandly, and coming upon deck, walked +past her to the stern. After he had passed, Mimi looked at Claude +with a face full of vexation. + +"Who could have supposed," said she, "that he was so near? He must +have heard every word!" + +"Undoubtedly he did," said Claude, "and he had a chance of verifying +the old adage that 'listeners never hear good of themselves.'" + +"O, I wish you would be on your guard!" said Mimi, in real distress. +"It makes me feel very anxious." + +She threw at Claude a glance so full of tender interest and pathetic +appeal, that Claude's playful mood gave way to one of a more +sentimental character; and it is quite impossible to tell what he +would have done or said had not Cazeneau again made his appearance, +on his way back to the forecastle. + +He smiled a cold smile as he passed them. + +"Charming weather for a _tete-a-tete_, mademoiselle," said he. +"_Parbleu_! Monsieur Motier, I don't wonder you don't make your +vessel go faster. I quite envy you; but at present I must see about +my fellows below here." + +With these words he turned away, and descended into the forecastle. +Mimi also turned away, and Claude accompanied her to the stern. + +"How old do you suppose he is?" asked Claude, very gravely. + +"How old? What a funny question! Why, he must be nearly fifty by this +time." + +"Fifty!" exclaimed Claude, in surprise. + +"Yes." + +"Why, I thought he was about thirty, or thirty-five." + +"Well, he certainly doesn't look over forty; but he is a wonderfully +well-kept man. Even on the raft, the ruling passion remained strong +in the very presence of death, and he managed to keep up his youthful +appearance; but I know that he is almost, if not quite, as old as +papa." + +"Is it possible?" cried Claude, in amazement. + +Mimi turned, and with her face close to Claude's, regarded him with +an anxious look, and spoke in a low, hurried voice:-- + +"O, be on your guard--beware of him. Even now he is engaged in some +plot against you. I know it by his face. That's what takes him down +there to confer with the seamen. He is not to be trusted. He is all +false--in face, in figure, in mind, and in heart. He knows nothing +about honor, or justice, or mercy. He has been the deadly enemy of +the Montresors, and if he finds out who you are, he will be your +deadly enemy. O, don't smile that way! Don't despise this enemy! Be +careful--be on your guard, I entreat you--_for my sake_!" + +These last words were spoken in a hurried whisper, and the next +moment Mimi turned and hastened down into the cabin to her father, +while Claude remained there, thinking over these words. Yet of them +all it was not the warning contained in them that was present in his +memory, but rather the sweet meaning convoyed in those last three +words, and in the tone in which they were uttered--the words _for my +sake_! + +Out of his meditations on this theme he was at length aroused by an +exclamation from Zac. Looking up, he saw that worthy close beside +him, intently watching something far away on the horizon, through a +glass. + +"I'll be darned if it ain't a French frigate!" + +This was the exclamation that roused Claude. He at once returned to +himself, and turning to Zac, he asked him what he meant. Zac said +nothing, but, handing him the spy-glass, pointed away to the west, +where a sail was visible on the horizon. That sail was an object of +curious interest to others on board; to the lieutenant and seamen of +the wrecked vessel, who were staring at her from the bows; and to +Cazeneau, who was with them, staring with equal interest. Claude took +the glass, and raising it to his eye, examined the strange sail long +and carefully, but without being able to distinguish anything in +particular about her. + +"What makes you think that she is a French frigate?" he asked, as he +handed the glass back to Zac. "I cannot make out that she is French +any more than English." + +"O, I can tell easy enough," said Zac, "by the cut of her jib. Then, +too, I judge by her course. That there craft is comin' down out of +the Bay of Fundy, which the Moosoos in their lingo call Fonde de la +Baie. She's been up at some of the French settlements. Now, she may +be goin' to France--or mayhap she's goin' to Louisbourg--an' if so be +as she's goin' to Louisbourg, why, I shouldn't wonder if it mightn't +be a good idee for our French friends here to go aboard of her and +finish their voyage in a vessel of their own. One reason why I'd +rather have it so is, that I don't altogether like the manoeuvrin's +of that French count over thar. He's too sly; an' he's up to +somethin', an' I don't fancy havin' to keep up a eternal watch agin +him. If I was well red of him I could breathe freer; but at the same +time I don't altogether relish the idee of puttin' myself into the +clutches of that thar frigate. It's easy enough for me to keep out of +her way; but if I was once to get under her guns, thar'd be an end of +the Parson. This here count ain't to be trusted, no how; an' if he +once got into communication with that there frigate, he'd be my +master. An' so I'm in a reg'lar quan-dary, an' no mistake. Darned if +I know what in the blamenation to do about it." + +Zac stopped short, and looked with an air of mild inquiry at Claude. +Claude, on his part, was rather startled by Zac's estimate of the +character of Cazeneau, for it chimed in so perfectly with Mimi's +opinion that it affected him in spite of himself. But it was only for +a moment, and then his own self-confidence gained the mastery. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +CAUGHT IN A TRAP. + + +The schooner was now directed towards the stranger, and before very +long they saw that her course had been changed, and that she was now +bearing down upon them. Zac stood at the helm saying nothing, but +keeping his eyes fixed upon the frigate, which drew nearer and +nearer, till finally she came near enough for her flag to be plainly +seen. They had been right in their conjectures, and the new comer was +a French frigate. This assurance seemed to open the mouth of Zac. + +"I must say," he remarked to Claude, "the nearer I get to her, the +less I like it. I've met Moosoo before this on the high seas, but I +allus went on the plan of keepin' out of his way. This here system of +goin' right into his jaws don't suit me at all." + +"O, come now," said Claude, "don't begin again. I thought you'd given +up all anxiety. There's not the slightest occasion for being worried +about it. I'll find out whether they can take me to Louisbourg, and +so I'll leave you, and you'll get back to Boston quicker than if you +took me where you first proposed." + +"Yes; but suppose she's goin' to France, and chooses to take me +prisoner?" said Zac. + +"O, nonsense!" said Claude. "They couldn't. What, after saving so +many lives, and conveying these rescued fellow-countrymen to their +own flag, do you suppose they could think of arresting you? Nonsense! +The thing's impossible." + +Zac said no more, but was evidently ill at ease, and in his own mind +there was no end of dark forebodings as to the event of this meeting. +These forebodings were in no way lessened as the schooner rounded to +under the lee of the frigate, and Zac saw a row of guns heavy enough +to blow him and his "Parson" to atoms. The frigate did not wait for +the schooner to send a boat aboard, for her own boat was all ready, +and soon appeared, well manned, rowing towards the schooner. On +coming alongside, the officer in command stepped on board, and Claude +at once went forward to meet him. Cazeneau also walked forward with +the same purpose. + +Claude politely raised his hat, and the officer civilly returned his +greeting. + +"This, monsieur, is the schooner Amos Adams, of Boston. We have +recently picked up the survivors of His Royal French Majesty's +frigate 'Arethuse,' which has been lost at sea, and we have come to +see whether you could take them. Will you have the goodness to tell +me where you are going?" + +"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed the officer, "the Arethuse lost! Is it +possible? What a terrible misfortune! And she had on board the new +commandant for Louisbourg." + +At this Cazeneau came forward. + +"He is safe, monsieur, for I am he." + +The officer respectfully removed his hat, and bowed very low. + +"What ship is this?" asked Cazeneau, in the tone of a superior. + +"L'Aigle," replied the officer. + +"Where are you bound?" + +"To Brest. We have just been cruising to the different settlements +and forts on the Bay of Fundy, with some supplies which were sent +from Louisbourg." + +"Ah! And you are now on your return to France?" + +"Yes." + +"Who commands your ship?" + +"Captain Ducrot." + +"Ah! Very good. You see, monsieur," said Cazeneau to Claude, "this +ship is bound to France; and that destination will not suit any of +us. I think I had better go aboard and see the captain, with whom I +may have some little influence. Perhaps, as my command is an +important one, he may be persuaded to alter his course, and land us +at Louisbourg, or some other place.--And so, monsieur," he continued, +turning to the officer, "I shall be obliged to you if you will put me +aboard the Aigle." + +The officer assured him that the boat was altogether at his service; +whereupon Cazeneau stepped aboard, followed by the officer, and in a +short time the boat was on its way back to the frigate. Claude +watched this in silence, and without any misgivings. It seemed to him +quite natural, and, indeed, the best thing that could be done, under +the circumstances. If the ship was going to France, she could not be +of service to them; but if her captain could be induced to change his +course and land them at Louisbourg, this would be exactly what they +wanted; and Cazeneau seemed to be the only one on board who was at +all likely to persuade the captain of the Aigle to do such a thing as +this. + +It seemed a long time before any further notice was taken of the +schooner. Meanwhile, all on board were watching the frigate with much +anxiety, and wondering what the result would be. In any case it did +not seem a matter of very great importance to any one; for the +lieutenant and the two sailors, who might have been most concerned, +were very well treated on board the schooner,--better, perhaps, than +they would be on board a frigate,--and evinced no particular desire +to leave. The priest said nothing; and to him, as well as to Claude, +there was nothing to be gained by taking to the ship. As for the aged +Laborde, he was still too weak to take any notice of events going on +around him; while Mimi, perhaps, found herself as well situated here, +under the care of Claude, as she could possibly be on the larger +ship, under the care of one who might be less agreeable. Claude +himself would certainly have preferred letting things remain as they +were. The situation was very pleasant. Mimi's occasional +companionship seemed sweeter than anything he had ever known; and, as +he was master on board, he naturally had a certain right to show her +attentions; which right he could not have under other circumstances. +He would have liked to see Cazeneau take his departure for good, +together with the French sailors, leaving Laborde and Mimi on board +the schooner. Finally, Zac was not at all pleased with anything in +his present situation. The thought of possible foul play never left +his mind for an instant; and though the blow was delayed for a +considerable time, he could not help feeling sure that it would fall. + +During this period of waiting, the aged Laborde had been brought up +on deck, and placed there on a seat. This was done from a hope which +Mimi had that he would be benefited by the excitement of the change. +The sight of the ship, however, produced but little effect of any +kind upon the languid and worn-out old man. He gave an indifferent +glance at the frigate and the surrounding scene, and then subsided +into himself, while Mimi in vain strove to rouse him from his +indifference. + +At last their suspense came to an end, and they saw preparations +making for another visit to the schooner. This time a second boat was +lowered, which was filled with marines. The sight of this formidable +boat's crew produced on Claude an impression of surprise; while in +Zac it enforced a conviction that his worst fears were now to be +realized. + +"Look thar!" said he in a hoarse whisper. "Now you see what's a +comin'! Good by, poor old Parson! Yer in the claws of the Philistines +now, an' no mistake." + +To this Claude made no reply, for he began to feel rather perplexed +himself, and to imagine that Cazeneau might have been playing him +false. All that Mimi had said about him now came to his mind, and the +armed boat's crew seemed like the first act of a traitor. He tried to +account for this in some other way, but was not able. He could no +longer laugh away Zac's fears. He could only be still and wait. + +The two boats rowed towards the schooner. Cazeneau was not in either +of them. He had remained on board. At length one of the boats touched +the schooner, and the same officer who had visited her before again +stepped on board. + +"Is the Count de Laborde here?" he asked. + +Claude pointed to where the old man was seated. The officer advanced, +and removed his hat with a bow to the old count, and another to the +beautiful Mimi. + +"Monsieur le Comte," said he, "I have the honor to convoy to you the +compliments of Captain Ducrot, with the request that you would honor +him with your company on board the Aigle. His excellency the Comte de +Cazeneau, commandant of Louisbourg, has persuaded him to convey +himself, and you, and some others, to the nearest French fort. It is +the intention of Captain Ducrot to sail back up the Bay of Fundy, and +land you at Grand Pre, from which place you can reach Louisbourg by +land." + +To this Laborde murmured a few indistinct words in reply, while Mimi +made no remark whatever. She was anxious to know what Claude was +intending to do. The officer now turned away to the others. + +"My instructions," said he, "are, to convey the invitation of Captain + Ducrot to Monsieur l'Abbe Michel and Lieutenant d'Angers, whom he +will be happy to receive on board the Aigle, and convey them to Grand +Pre, or France. The two seamen of the Arethuse will also go on board +and report themselves." + +The officer now went back to Laborde, and offered, to assist him. The +old man rose, and taking his arm, walked feebly towards the vessel's +side, whence he descended into the boat, and was assisted to the +stern by the seamen. The officer then assisted Mimi to a place by her +father's side, anticipating Claude, who stepped forward with the +offer of his assistance. Then followed Pere Michel, and Lieutenant +d'Angers, of the Arethuse; then Margot; and, finally, the two seamen. + +Meanwhile nothing was said to Claude. He was not included in the +compliments of Captain Ducrot, nor was any notice taken of him in any +way. He could not help feeling slighted and irritated at the whole +proceeding. To himself and to Zac this whole party owed their lives, +and they were all leaving him now with no more regard for him than if +he were, a perfect stranger. But the fact was, the whole party took +it for granted that he and Zac would be invited on board, and that +they would see them both again, and supposed that they were coming in +the same boat. Mimi and Pere Michel both thought that Claude, at +least, was going with them; for he had told them both that he was +going to leave the schooner and send Zac home. + +But Claude's feelings were somewhat embittered by this whole +incident, and were destined to be still more so before it was all +over. + +The lieutenant remained on board. The boat rowed back to the Aigle, +carrying the passengers above named, after which the lieutenant +motioned to the other boat. This one moved alongside, and a +half-dozen armed seamen stepped on board. + +"Monsieur," said the lieutenant, advancing to Claude, "I hope you +will pardon me for being the instrument in a very unpleasant duty. I +am pained to inform you that you are my prisoner, on the command of +his excellency the commandant of Louisbourg, whose instructions I am +ordered to fulfil. I deeply regret this painful necessity, and most +sincerely hope that it may prove only a temporary inconvenience." + +At this Claude was so astounded that for some time he could only +stare at the officer, without being able to utter a syllable. At +length he said,-- + +"What, monsieur! A prisoner? You must be mistaken! And who--The +commandant of Louisbourg--is not that the Count de Cazeneau?" + +"It is." + +"But, monsieur, it must be a mistake. I have never injured him or any +one. I have done nothing but good to him. My friend here, the captain +of this schooner, and I, saved his life; and we have treated him with +the utmost kindness since he was on board here. Finally, we sailed +towards you, and put ourselves in your power, solely that these +shipwrecked passengers, of whom the Count de Cazeneau was one, might +reach their friends sooner. How, then, can he possibly mean to arrest +me?" + +"Monsieur, I assure you that it grieves mo most deeply," said the +officer--"most exquisitely. I know all this--all, and so does Captain +Ducrot; but there is no mistake, and it must be." + +"But what authority has he here, and why should your captain do his +orders?" + +"Monsieur, I am only a subordinate, and I know nothing but my orders. +At the same time, you must know that the commandant of Louisbourg has +general control, by land and sea, and is my captain's superior." + +Claude made no reply. He saw that this man was but, as he said, a +subordinate, and was only obeying his orders. But the officer had +something still on his mind. His words and his looks all showed that +the present business was exceedingly distasteful to him, and that he +was only doing it under pressure. + +"Monsieur," said he, after a pause, "I have another painful duty to +perform. I am ordered to take possession of this schooner, as a prize +of war, and take the captain and crew as prisoners of war." + +At this Claude stared at the officer once more, utterly stupefied. + +"Mon Dieu!" he cried, at length. "Are you a Frenchman? Is your +captain a French gentleman? Do you know, monsieur, what you are +doing? We have saved some shipwrecked Frenchmen; we have carried them +to a place of safety; and for this we are arrested! This honest man, +the captain, might expect a reward for his generosity; and what does +he get? Why, he is seized as a prisoner of war, and his schooner is +made a prize! Is there any chivalry left in France? Are these the +acts of Frenchmen? Great Heavens! Has it come to this?" + +"Monsieur," said the officer, "be calm, I implore you. All this gives +me the most exquisite distress. But I must obey orders." + +"You are right," said Claude. "You are a subordinate. I am wasting +words to talk with you. Take me to your captain, or to the Count de +Cazeneau. Let me learn what it is that induces him to act towards us +with such unparalleled baseness." + +"Monsieur, I shall be happy to do all that I can. I will take you to +the Aigle,--under guard,--and you will be a prisoner there. I hope +that his excellency will accord you the favor of an interview." + +All this time Zac had been a silent spectator of the scene. He had +not understood the words that were spoken, but he had gathered the +general meaning of this scene from the gestures and expression of the +two speakers. The presence, also, of the armed guard was enough to +show him that the blow which he dreaded had fallen. And now, since +the worst had happened, all his uneasiness departed, and he resumed +all the vigor of his mind. He at once decided upon the best course to +follow, and that course was to be emphatically one of quiet, and +calmness, and cool watchfulness. Claude had become excited at this +event; Zac had become cool. + +"Wal," said he, advancing towards Claude, "it's just as I said. I +allus said that these here frog-eatin' Frenchmen wan't to be trusted; +and here, you see, I was right. I see about how it is. The poor, +unfort'nate Parson's done for, an' I'm in for it, too, I s'pose." + +Claude turned, and gave Zac a look of indescribable distress. + +"There's some infernal villain at work, Zac," said he, "out of the +common course, altogether. I'm arrested myself." + +"You? Ah!" said Zac, who did not appear to be at all surprised. "You +don't say so! Wal, you've got the advantage of me, since you can +speak their darned lingo. So they've gone an' 'rested you, too--have +they?" + +"It's that infernal Cazeneau," said Claude; "and I haven't got the +faintest idea why." + +"Cazeneau, is it? O, well," said Zac, "they're all alike. It's my +opinion that it's the captain of the frigate, an' he's doin' it in +Cazeneau's name. Ye see he's ben a cruisin' about, an' hankers after +a prize; an' I'm the only one he's picked up. You're +'rested--course--as one of the belongin's of the Parson. You an' I +an' the hull crew: that's it! We're all prisoners of war!" + +"O, no," said Claude. "It isn't that, altogether; there's some deeper +game." + +"Pooh!" said Zac; "the game ain't a deep one, at all; it's an +every-day game. But I must say it is hard to be done for jest because +we had a leetle too much hooman feelin'. Now, ef we'd only let them +Frenchies rot and drown on their raft,--or ef we'd a' taken them as +prisoners to Boston,--we'd ben spared this present tribulation." + +Zac heaved a sigh as he said this, and turned away. Then a sudden +thought struck him. + +"O, look here," said he; "jest ask 'em one thing, as a partiklar +favor. You needn't mention me, though. It's this. Ask 'em if they +won't leave me free--that is, I don't want to be handcuffed." + +"Handcuffed!" exclaimed Claude, grinding his teeth in futile rage. +"They won't dare to do that!" + +"O, you jest ask this Moosoo, as a favor. They needn't object." + +Upon this Claude turned to the officer. + +"Monsieur," said he, "I have a favor to ask. I and my friend here are +your prisoners, but we do not wish to be treated with unnecessary +indignity or insult. I ask, then, that we may be spared the insult of +being bound. Our offence has not been great. Wo have only saved the +lives of six of your fellow-countrymen. Is it presumption to expect +this favor?" + +"Monsieur," said the officer, "I assure you that, as far as I have +anything to say, you shall not be bound. And as to this brave fellow, +he may be at liberty to move about in this schooner as long as he is +quiet and gives no offence--that is, for the present. And now, +monsieur, I will ask you to accompany me on board the Aigle." + +With these words the officer prepared to quit the schooner. Before +doing so he addressed some words to the six seamen, who were to be +left in charge as a prize crew, with one midshipman at their head. He +directed them to follow the frigate until further orders, and also, +until further orders, to leave the captain of the schooner unbound, +and let him have the run of the vessel. + +After this the officer returned to the Aigle, taking Claude with him. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +UNDER ARREST. + + +By the time that Claude reached the Aigle, the evening of this +eventful day was at hand. He was taken to a room on the gun-deck, +which seemed as though used for a prison, from the general character +of the bolts and bars, and other fixtures. Claude asked to see the +captain, and the lieutenant promised to carry the message to him. +After about an hour he came back with the message that the captain +could not see him that evening. Upon this Claude begged him to ask +Count de Cazeneau for an interview. The officer went off once more, +and returned with the same answer. Upon this Claude was compelled to +submit to his fate as best he might. It was a hard thing for him, in +the midst of health, and strength, and joy, with all the bounding +activity and eager energy of youth, to be cast down into a prison; +but to be arrested and imprisoned under such circumstances; to be so +foully wronged by the very man whose life he had saved; to have his +own kindness and hospitality repaid by treachery, and bonds, and +insult,--all this was galling in the highest degree, and well nigh +intolerable. + +That night Claude did not sleep. He lay awake wondering what could be +the cause of Cazeneau's enmity, and trying in vain to conjecture. + +All the next morning Claude waited for some message from Captain +Ducrot; but none came. His breakfast was brought to him, consisting +of the coarse fare of common seamen, and then his dinner; but the +captain did not make his appearance. Even the officer who had +arrested him, and who had hitherto shown himself sufficiently +sympathetic, did not appear. The sailor who brought his meals gave no +answer to his questions. It seemed to Claude as though his captors +were unwilling to give him a hearing. + +At length, in about the middle of the afternoon, Claude heard the +tramp of men approaching his prison; the door was opened, and he saw +an officer enter, while three marines, with fixed bayonets, stood +outside. + +"Have I the honor of speaking to Captain Ducrot?" asked Claude. + +"I am Captain Ducrot," said the other. + +He was a small, wiry man, dressed with extreme neatness, who looked +rather like an attorney than a seaman. His voice was thin and +harsh,--his manner cold and repulsive, with an air of primness and +formality that made him seem more like a machine than a man. The +first sight of him made Claude feel as though any appeal to his +humanity or generosity, or even justice, would be useless. He looked +like an automaton, fit to obey the will of another, but without any +independent will of his own. Nevertheless, Claude had no other +resource; so he began:-- + +"I have asked for this interview, monsieur," said he, "from a +conviction that there must be some mistake. Listen to me for a +moment. I have lived in Boston all my life. I was on my way to +Louisbourg, intending to go to France from there, on business. I had +engaged a schooner to take me to Louisbourg; and at sea I came across +a portion of the wreck of the Arethuse, with six people on board, one +of whom was the Count de Cazeneau. I saved them all--that is, with +the assistance of the captain of the schooner. After I brought them +on board the schooner, I treated them all with the utmost kindness; +and finally, when I saw your ship in the distance, I voluntarily +sailed towards you, for the purpose of allowing my passengers to go +on board. I had designed coming on board myself also, if your +destination suited my views. And now, monsieur, for all this I find +myself arrested, held here in prison, treated as a common felon, and +all because I have saved the lives of some shipwrecked fellow-beings. +Monsieur, it is not possible that this can be done with your +knowledge. If you want confirmation of my words, ask the good priest +Pere Michel, and he will confirm all that I have said." + +The captain listened to all this very patiently, and without any +interruption. At length, as Claude ended, he replied,-- + +"But you yourself cannot suppose that you, as you say, are imprisoned +merely for this. People do not arrest their benefactors merely +because they are their benefactors; and if you have saved the life of +his excellency, you cannot suppose that he has ordered your arrest +for that sole reason. Monsieur has more good sense, and must +understand well that there is some sort of charge against him." + +"Monsieur," said Claude, "I swear to you I not only know no reason +for my arrest, but I cannot even imagine one; and I entreat you, as a +man of honor, to tell me what the charge against me is." + +"Monsieur," said the captain, blandly, "we are both men of honor, of +course. Of your honor I have no doubt. It is untouched. Every day men +of honor, and of rank, too, are getting into difficulties; and +whenever one meddles with political affairs it must be so." + +"Political affairs!" cried Claude. "What have I to do with political +affairs?" + +The captain again smiled blandly. + +"_Parbleu_, monsieur, but that is not for me to say." + +"But is that the charge against me?" + +"Most certainly. How could it be otherwise?" + +"Politics, politics!" cried Claude. "I don't understand you! I must +be taken for some other person." + +"O, no," said the captain; "there's no mistake." + +"Pardon me, monsieur, there must be." + +"Then, monsieur, allow me to indulge the hope that you may be able to +show where the mistake is, at your trial." + +The captain made a movement now as though he was about to leave; but +Claude detained him. + +"One moment, monsieur," said he. "Will you not tell me something +more? Will you not tell me what these political charges are? For, I +swear to you, I cannot imagine. How can I, who have lived all my life +in Boston, be connected with politics in any way? Let me know, then, +something about these charges; for nothing is more distressing than +to be in a situation like this, and have no idea whatever of the +cause of it." + + +[Illustration: "Of Your Honor I Have No Doubt."] + + +"_Eh bien_, monsieur," said the captain, "since you wish it, I have +no objection whatever to state what they are; and if you can clear +yourself and show your innocence, I shall be the first to +congratulate you. His excellency will not object to my telling you, I +am sure, for he is the soul of goodness, and is full of generous +impulses. Very well, then. In the first place you call yourself +Claude Motier. Now, this is said to be an assumed name. Your real +name is said to be Claude de Montresor; and it is said that you are +the son of a certain Eugene de Moutresor, who committed grave +offences about twenty years ago, for which he would have been +severely punished had he not fled from the country. His wife, +also,--your mother, perhaps,--was proscribed, and would have been +arrested and punished had she not escaped with her husband. They were +then outlawed, and their estates were confiscated. The wife died, the +husband disappeared. This is what happened to them." + +"That is all true," said Claude. "But my father and mother were both +most foully wronged--" + +"Pardon, monsieur," said the captain. "That is very probable; but I +am not here as judge; I am only giving you information about the +charge against you. I have not time to listen to your answer; and I +would advise you not to speak too hastily. You have already confessed +to the assumed name. I would advise you to be careful in your +statements. And now, monsieur, should you like to hear any more?" + +"Yes, yes!" cried Claude, eagerly; "tell me all that there is to +know." + +"Very well," said the captain. "Now you, under an assumed name, +engage a schooner to take you, not to Louisbourg, but to some place +in the vicinity of Louisbourg. Being the son of two dangerous +political offenders, who were both outlawed for grave crimes, you are +found coming from Boston to Louisbourg under an assumed name, and +upon a secret errand, which you keep to yourself. Under these +circumstances the commandant could not overlook your case. It seemed +to him one which was full of suspicion, and, in spite of the +gratitude which he felt for your kind offices, he nevertheless was +compelled, by a strong sense of public duty, to order your arrest. +You will be accorded a fair trial; and, though appearances are +against you, you may succeed in proving your innocence; in which +case, monsieur, I am sure that no one will be more rejoiced than +myself and his excellency. + +"You have also complained, monsieur, of the arrest of your captain. +That was done on account of his unfortunate connection with you. He +may be innocent, but that remains to be seen. At present appearances +are against him, and he must take his share of the guilt which +attaches to you. His arrest was a political necessity." + +After this the captain left; and, as Claude saw how useless it was to +attempt to plead his cause to this man, he made no further attempt to +detain him. + +Left once more to his own reflections, Claude recalled all that the +captain had said, and at first was lost in wonder at the gravity of +the charges that had been raised up against him. Nor could he conceal +from himself that, though they were based on nothing, they still were +serious and formidable. Even in France charges of a political kind +would lead to serious consequences; and here in the colonies he felt +less sure of justice. Indeed, as far as justice was concerned, he +hardly hoped to experience anything of the kind, for his judge would +be the very man who had got up these charges, and had treated him +with such baseness and treachery. The fact was, that he would be +called before a court where accuser, witness, and judge would all be +one and the same person, and, what was more, the person who for some +reason had chosen to become his bitterest enemy. Dark indeed and +gloomy was the prospect that now lowered before him. + +Before an impartial court the charges against him might be answered +or refuted; but where could he find such a court? Cazeneau had +created the charges, and would know how to make them still more +formidable. And now he felt that behind these charges there must lurk +something more dangerous still. + +Already there had arisen in his mind certain suspicions as to +Cazeneau's designs upon Mimi. These suspicions he had hinted at in +conversation with her, and his present circumstances deepened them +into convictions. It began now to seem to him that Cazeneau had +designs to make the beautiful, high-born girl his wife. Everything +favored him. He was supreme in authority out here; the old Laborde +was under his influence; the daughter's consent alone was wanting. Of +that consent, under ordinary circumstances, he could make sure. But +he had seen a close and strong friendship arising between Mimi and +her preserver. This Claude considered as a better and more probable +cause for his hate. If this were indeed so, and if this hate grew up +out of jealousy, then his prospects were indeed dark, for jealousy is +as cruel as the grave. + +The more Claude thought of this, the greater was the importance which +he attached to it. It seemed to be this which had made Cazeneau +transform himself into an eavesdropper; this which had occasioned his +dark looks, his morose words, and haughty reticence. In his +eavesdropping he must have heard enough to excite his utmost +jealousy; and Claude, in recalling his conversations with Mimi, could +remember words which must have been gall and bitterness to such a +jealous listener. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +GRAND PRE. + + +Nearly thirty years before this, the French government had been +compelled to give up the possession of Acadie to the English, and to +retire to the Island of Cape Breton. Here they had built a stronghold +at Louisbourg, which they were enlarging and strengthening every +year, to the great disgust and alarm of the New England colonies. But +though Acadie had been given up to the English, it could hardly be +said to be held by them. Only two posts were occupied, the one at +Canso, in the strait that separated Cape Breton from Acadie, and the +other at Annapolis Royal. At Canso there was a wooden block-house, +with a handful of soldiers: while at Annapolis Royal, where the +English governor resided, the fortifications were more extensive, yet +in a miserable condition. At this last place there were a few +companies of soldiers, and here the governor tried to perform the +difficult task of transforming the French Acadians to loyal British +subjects. + +But the French at Louisbourg never forgot their fellow-countrymen, +and never relinquished their designs on Acadie. The French +inhabitants of that province amounted to several thousands, who +occupied the best portions of the country, while the English +consisted of only a few individuals in one or two posts. Among the +French Acadians emissaries were constantly moving about, who sought +to keep up among them their old loyalty to the French crown, and by +their pertinacity sorely disturbed the peace of the English governor +at Annapolis Royal. The French governor at Louisbourg was not slow to +second these efforts by keeping the Acadians supplied with arms and +ammunition; and it was for this purpose that the Aigle had been sent +to the settlements up the Bay of Fundy. + +Up the bays he now sailed, in accordance with the wish of Cazeneau. +His reason for this course was, that he might see the people for +himself, and judge how far they might be relied on in the event of +war, which he knew must soon be declared. It was his intention to +land at Grand Pre, the chief Acadian settlement, and thence proceed +by land to Louisbourg. He had understood from Captain Ducrot that an +Indian trail went all the way through the woods, which could be +traversed on horseback. Such a course would impose more hardship upon +the aged Laborde and Mimi than would be encountered on shipboard; but +Cazeneau had his own purposes, which were favored, to a great extent, +by the land route. Besides, he had the schooner with him, so that if, +after all, it should be advisable to go by water, they could make the +journey in her. + +The Aigle sailed, and the schooner followed. The wind had changed, +and now blew more steadily, and from a favorable quarter. The +currents delayed them somewhat; but on the third morning after the +two vessels had met, they reached the entrance of the Basin of Minas. + +The scenery here was wild and grand. A few miles from the shore there +rose a lofty rocky island, precipitous on all sides save one, its +summit crested with trees, its base worn by the restless waves. +Opposite this was a rocky shore, with cliffs crowned with the +primeval forest. From this pond the strait began, and went on for +miles, till it reached the Basin, forming a majestic avenue, with a +sublime gateway. On one side of this gateway were rocky shores +receding into wooded hills, while on the other was a towering cliff +standing apart from the shore, rising abruptly from the water, torn +by the tempest and worn by the tide. From this the precipitous cliff +ran on for miles, forming one side of the strait, till it terminated +in a majestic promontory. + +This promontory rose on one side, and on the other a lofty, wooded +island, inside of which was a winding shore, curving into a harbor. +Here the strait terminated, and beyond this the waters of the Basin +of Minas spread away for many a mile, surrounded on every side by +green, wooded shores. In one place was a cluster of small islands; in +another, rivers rolled their turbid floods, bearing with them the +sediment of long and fertile valleys. The blue waters sparkled in the +sun under the blue sky; the sea-gulls whirled and screamed through +the air; nowhere could the eye discern any of the works of man. It +seemed like some secluded corner of the universe, and as if those on +board the ship + + + "were the first that ever burst + Into that silent sea." + + +But, though not visible from this point, the settlements of man were +here, and the works of human industry lying far away on the slopes of +distant hills and the edges of low, marshy shores. + +It was not without much caution that they had passed through the +strait. They had waited for the tide to come in, and then, with a +favorable wind, they had made the venture. Borne onward by wind and +tide together, they sailed on far into the bay, and then, directing +their course to the southward, they sailed onward for a few miles +farther. The captain had been here before, and was anxious to find +his former anchorage. On the former occasion he had waited outside +and sent in for a pilot, but now he had ventured inside without one, +trusting to his memory. He knew well the perils that attend upon +navigation in this place, and was not inclined to risk too much. For +here were the highest tides in the world to be encountered, and swift +currents, and sudden gusts of wind, and far-spreading shoals and +treacherous quicksands, among which the unwary navigator could come +to destruction only too easily. + +But no accident happened on this occasion; the navigation was made +with the utmost circumspection, the schooner being sent ahead to +sound all the way, and the ship following. At length both came to +anchor at a distance from the shore of about five miles. Nearer than +that the captain did not dare to go, for fear of the sand-banks and +shoals. + +Here a boat was lowered, and Cazeneau prepared to land, together with +the aged Laborde and Mimi. The Abbe Michel also prepared to accompany +them. + +Ever since Laborde had been saved from the wreck, he had been weak +and listless. It seemed as though the exhaustion, and exposure, and +privation of that event had utterly broken down his constitution. +Since he had been taken to the ship, however, he had grown much +worse, and was no longer able to walk. He had not risen from his +berth since he had come on board the Aigle. Mimi's anxiety about him +had been excessive, and she had no thought for anything else. The +situation of Claude was unknown to her, and her distress about her +father's increasing weakness prevented her from thinking much about +him. Her only hope now was, that on reaching the shore her father +would experience a change for the better, and be benefited by the +land air. + +On removing Laborde from his berth, it was found that he not only had +not strength to stand, but that he was even so weak that this motion +served of itself to exhaust him fearfully. He had to be placed on a +mattress, and carried in that way by four sailors to the ship's side, +where he was carefully let clown into the boat. There the mattress +was placed in the boat's stern, and Laborde lay upon this, with his +head supported against Mimi, who held him encircled in her arms. In +this way he was taken ashore. + +It was a long row, but the water was comparatively smooth, and the +landing had been postponed until the flood tide, which made the +boat's progress easier and swifter. + +The nearest shore was very low, and the landing-place was two or +three miles farther on. In the distance the land rose higher, and was +covered with trees, with here and there a clearing. The land which +they first approached was well wooded on the water side, but on +passing this the whole scene changed. This land was an island, about +two miles distant from the shore, with its inner side cleared, and +dotted with houses and barns. Between this and the shore there +extended a continuous tract of low land, which had evidently once +been a salt-water marsh, for along the water's edge the coarse grass +grew luxuriantly; but a little distance back there was a dike, about +six or eight feet high, which ran from the island to the shore, and +evidently protected the intervening level from the sea. The island +itself thus served as a dike, and the artificial works that had been +made ran where the sea had the least possible effect. + +At length they approached the main land, and here they saw the low +marsh-land all around them. Here a turbid river ran into the Basin, +which came down a valley enclosed between wooded hills, and, with +voluminous windings, terminated its course. + +At this place there was a convenient beach for landing, and here +Laborde was removed from the boat and carried up on the bank, where +he was laid on his mattress under a shadowy willow tree. This point, +though not very elevated, commanded a prospect which, to these new +comers who had suffered so much from the sea, might have afforded the +highest delight, had they been sufficiently free from care to take it +all in. All around them lay one of the most fertile countries in all +the world, and one of the most beautiful. The slopes of the hills +rose in gentle acclivities, cultivated, dotted with groves and +orchards, and lined with rows of tall poplars. The simple houses of +the Acadian farmers, with their out-buildings, gave animation to the +scene. At their feet lay a broad extent of dike-land, green and +glowing with the verdure of Juno, spreading away to that island, +which acted as a natural dike against the waters of the sea. Beyond +this lay the blue waters of Minas Basin, on whose bosom floated the +ship and the schooner, while in the distance rose the cliff which +marked the entrance into the Basin, and all the enclosing shores. + +But none of the party noticed this. Cazeneau was absorbed with his +own plans; Laborde lay extended on the mattress, without any +appearance of life except a faint breathing and an occasional +movement; over him Mimi hung in intense anxiety, watching every +change in his face, and filled with the most dreadful apprehensions; +at a little distance stood Pere Michel, watching them with sad and +respectful sympathy. + +Captain Ducrot had come ashore in the boat, and, leaving Laborde, he +accompanied Cazeneau to a house which stood not far away. It was +rather larger than the average, with a row of tall poplars in front +and an orchard on one side. A road ran from the landing, past this +house, up the hill, to the rest of the settlement farther on. + +An old man was seated on a bench in the doorway. He rose as he saw +the strangers, and respectfully removed his hat. + +"How do you do, Robicheau?" said Ducrot. "You see I have come back +again sooner than I expected. I have brought with me his excellency +the governor of Louisbourg, who will be obliged if you can make him +comfortable for a few days. Also there are the Count de Laborde and +his daughter, whom I should like to bring here; but if you cannot +make them comfortable, I can take them to Comeau's." + +Upon this, Robicheau, with a low bow to Cazeneau, informed him that +he thought there might be room for them all, if they would be willing +to accept his humble hospitality. The old man spoke with much +embarrassment, yet with sincere good will. He was evidently +overwhelmed by the grandeur of his visitors, yet anxious to do all in +his power to give them fitting entertainment. Ducrot now informed him +that the Count de Laborde needed immediate rest and attention; +whereupon Robicheau went in to summon his dame, who at once set to +work to prepare rooms for the guests. + +Ducrot now returned to the landing, and ordered the sailors to carry +Laborde to Robicheau's house. They carried him on the mattress, +supporting it on two oars, which were fastened with ropes in such a +way as to form a very easy litter. Mimi walked by her father's side, +while Pere Michel followed in the rear. In this way they reached +Robicheau's house. The room and the bed were already prepared, and +Laborde was carried there. As he was placed upon that bed, Mimi +looked at him with intense anxiety and alarm, for his pale, emaciated +face and weak, attenuated frame seemed to belong to one who was at +the last verge of life. An awful fear of the worst came over her--the +fear of bereavement in this distant land, the presentiment of an +appalling desolation, which crushed her young heart and reduced her +to despair. Her father, her only relative, her only protector, was +slipping away from her; and in the future there seemed nothing before +her but the very blackness of darkness. + +The good dame Robicheau saw her bitter grief, and shed tears of +sympathy. She offered no word of consolation, for to her experienced +eyes this feeble old man seemed already beyond the reach of hope. She +could only show her compassion by her tears. Pere Michel, also, had +nothing to say; and to all the distress of the despairing young girl +he could offer no word of comfort. It was a case where comfort could +not be administered, and where the stricken heart could only be left +to struggle with its own griefs--alone. + +A few hours after the first boat went ashore, a second boat landed. +By this time, a large number of the inhabitants had assembled at the +landing-place, to see what was going on; for to these people the +sight of a ship was a rare occurrence, and they all recognized the +Aigle, and wondered why she had returned. This second boat carried +Claude, who had thus been removed from the ship to the shore for the +purpose of being conveyed to Louisbourg. Captain Ducrot and Cazeneau +had already succeeded in finding a place where he could be kept. It +was the house of one of the fanners of Grand Pre, named Comeau, one +of the largest in the whole settlement. + +Claude landed, and was committed to the care of Comeau, who had come +down to receive his prisoner. It was not thought worth while to bind +him, since, in so remote a place as this, there would be scarcely any +inducement for him to try to escape. If he did so, he could only fly +to the woods, and, as he could not support his life there, he would +be compelled to return to the settlement, or else seek shelter and +food among the Indians. In either case he would be recaptured; for +the Acadians would all obey the order of the governor of Louisbourg, +and deliver up to him any one whom he might designate; while the +Indians would do the same with equal readiness, since they were all +his allies. Under these circumstances, Claude was allowed to go with +his hands free; and in this way he accompanied Comeau, to whose +charge he was committed. He walked through the crowd at the landing +without exciting any very particular attention, and in company with +Comeau he walked for about half a mile, when he arrived at the house. +Here he was taken to a room which opened into the general +sitting-room, and was lighted by a small window in the rear of the +house, and contained a bed and a chair. The door was locked, and +Claude was left to his own reflections. + +Left thus to himself, Claude did not find his own thoughts very +agreeable. He could not help feeling that he was now, more than ever, +in the power of the man who had shown himself so relentless and +persevering in his enmity. He was far away from any one whom he could +claim as a friend. The people here were evidently all the creatures +of Ducrot and Cazeneau. He saw that escape was useless. To get away +from this particular place of imprisonment might be possible, for the +window could be opened, and escape thus effected; but, if he should +succeed in flying, where could he go? Annapolis Royal was many miles +away; He did not know the way there; he could not ask; and even if he +did know the way, he could only go there by running the gantlet of a +population who were in league with Cazeneau. + +That evening, as old Comeau brought him some food, he tried to enter +into conversation with him. He began in a gradual way, and as his +host, or, rather, his jailer, listened, he went on to tell his whole +story, insisting particularly on the idea that Cazeneau must be +mistaken; for he thought it best not to charge him with deliberate +malice. He hinted, also, that if he could escape he might bestow a +handsome reward upon the man who might help him. To all this Comeau +listened, and even gave utterance to many expressions of sympathy; +but the end of it all was nothing. Either Comeau disbelieved him +utterly, but was too polite to say so, or else he was afraid to +permit the escape of the prisoner who had been intrusted to his care. +Claude then tried another means of influencing him. He reminded him +that the governor of Louisbourg had no jurisdiction here; that the +Acadians of Grand Pre were subject to the King of England, and that +all concerned in this business would be severely punished by the +English as soon as they heard of it. But here Claude utterly missed +his mark. No sooner had he said this, than old Comeau began to +denounce the English with the utmost scorn and contempt. He told +Claude that there were many thousands of French in Acadia, and only a +hundred English; that they were weak and powerless; that their fort +at Annapolis was in a ruinous state; and that, before another year, +they would be driven out forever. He asserted that the King of France +was the greatest of all kings; that France was the most powerful of +all countries; that Louisbourg was the strongest fortress in the +universe; and that the French would drive the English, not only out +of Acadia, but out of America. In fact, Claude's allusion to the +English proved to be a most unfortunate one; for, whereas at first +the old man seemed to feel some sort of sympathy with his +misfortunes, so, at the last, excited by this allusion, he seemed to +look upon him as a traitor to the cause of France, and as a criminal +who was guilty of all that Cazeneau had laid to his charge. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +ALONE IN THE WORLD. + + +The condition of the old Count de Laborde grew steadily worse. The +change to the land had done him no good, nor was all the loving care +of Mimi of any avail whatever. Every one felt that he was doomed: and +Mimi herself, though she struggled against that thought, still had in +her heart a dark terror of the truth. This truth could at last be +concealed no longer even from herself, for Pere Michel came to +administer the holy eucharist to the dying man, and to receive his +last confession. Mimi could not be present while the dying man +unfolded to his priest the secrets of his heart, nor could she hope +to know what those secrets were. But dark indeed must they have been, +and far, very far, beyond the scope of ordinary confessions, for the +face of Pere Michel, as he came forth from that room, was pale and +sombre; and so occupied was he with his own thoughts that he took no +notice of the weeping girl who stood there, longing to hear from him +some word of comfort. But Pere Michel had none to give. He left the +house, and did not return till the next day. + +By that time all was over. Laborde had passed away in the night. The +priest went in to look upon the form of the dead. Mimi was there, +bowed down in the deepest grief, for she felt herself all alone in +the world. The priest stood looking at the face of the dead for some +time with that same gloom upon his face which had been there on the +preceding day, when he left that bedside. At length he turned to +Mimi. + +"Child," said he, in a voice full of pity, "I will not attempt to +utter any words of condolence. I know well how the heart feels during +the first emotions of sorrow over bereavement. Words are useless. I +can only point you to Heaven, where all comfort dwells, and direct +you to remember in your prayers him who lies here. The church is +yours, with all her holy offices. The dearest friend must turn away +from the dead, but the church remains, and follows him into the other +world. Your heart may still be consoled, for you can still do +something for the dear father whom you loved. You can pray for the +soul of the departed, and thus it will seem to you as though you have +not altogether lost him. He will seem near you yet when you pray for +him; your spirit will seem to blend with his; his presence will seem +about you. And besides, my dear child, this also I wish to say: you +are not altogether alone in the world. I will watch over you till you +go wherever you may wish. It is not much that I can do; but perhaps I +can do for you all that you may now wish to be done for yourself. +Think of this, then, dear child, and whenever you wish to have a +friend's advice or assistance, come to me." + +To this Mimi listened with streaming eyes; and as the priest ended, +she pressed his hand gratefully, and uttered some unintelligible +words. His offer had come to her like balm. It did not seem now as +though she was so desolate, for she had learned already to love the +good priest with something of a daughter's feelings, and to trust in +him profoundly. + +Laborde was buried in the little churchyard of Grand Pre; and now, +in addition to the pangs of bereavement, Mimi began to feel other +cares about her future. What was she to do? Could she go back to +France? That was her only present course. But how? She could not go +in the Aigle, for that frigate had left the day after her arrival, +not having any time to spare. There was no other way of going to +France now, except by going first to Louisbourg, and taking a ship +from that place. But she was not left very long in suspense, for, two +or three days after her father's burial, the Count de Cazeneau came +to see her. + +"I hope," he began, "that it is not necessary for me to say to you +how deeply I sympathize with you in your bereavement, for I myself +have my own bereavement to mourn over--the loss of my best, my only +friend, the friend of a lifetime, the high-minded, the noble Laborde. +The loss to me is irrevocable, and never can I hope to find any mere +friend who may fill his place. We were always inseparable. We were +congenial in taste and in spirit. My coming to America was largely +due to his unfortunate resolve to come here, a resolve which I always +combated to the best of my ability, and over which you and I must now +mourn. But regrets are useless, and it remains for both of us to see +about the future." + +This somewhat formal opening was quite characteristic of Cazeneau, +who, being of a distant, reserved nature, very seldom allowed himself +to unbend; and, though he threw as much softness into his voice and +manner as he was capable of using, yet Mimi felt repelled, and +dreaded what might be coming. + +"When we were first picked up by the Aigle," he continued, "it was in +my power either to go direct to Louisbourg, or to come here, and then +go on by land. I chose to come here, for two reasons; first, because +I hoped that my dear friend would be benefited by reaching the land +as soon as possible, and I thought that the pure, fresh air, and +genial climate, and beautiful scenery of this lovely place would +exercise upon him an immediate effect for the better. Another purpose +which I had was an official one. I wished to see this place and this +people with reference to my own administration and designs for the +future. Unhappily, my hopes for my friend have proved unfounded, and +my only consolation is that, though I have been disappointed as a +private man in my affections, yet, as a public official, I have been +able, during my short stay here, to do good service to my country, in +a way which my country's enemies shall feel at a vital point before +another year has passed away." + +To this Mimi had nothing to say, for it was all preliminary, and she +expected something more. She therefore waited in silence, though with +much trepidation, to see what it might be that this man had in view +with regard to her. Cazeneau then continued:-- + +"As I have now done all that I intended to do in this place, it is my +intention to set forth for Louisbourg by land. I have some faithful +Indians as guides, and the journey is not very fatiguing. In +Louisbourg you will be able to obtain every comfort, and there will +be friends and associates for you, your own social equals, who may +make your life pleasanter than it has been for a long time." + +By this Cazeneau directly stated his intention of taking Mimi with +him to Louisbourg--a statement which did not surprise Mimi, for it +was what she had expected. Now, however, that he said this, and in +this way, without pretending to ask her consent, her trepidation +increased, and she thought with terror over that long and lonely +journey, which she would have to make with this man and a band of +savages. There was nothing else, however, to be done. She could +neither hope nor desire to remain in Grand Pre. Her position was a +painful one, and the only hope remaining was that of returning to +France. And to go to Louisbourg was the surest way of doing that. One +thing, however, she could not help asking, for this she felt to be a +matter of extreme importance. + +"Is Pere Michel going?" + +"He is," said Cazeneau. "He has asked permission to go with our +party, and I have granted it." + +At this answer a great relief was felt by Mimi, and the future seemed +less dark. + +"I have granted it," said Cazeneau, "because he seems a harmless man, +and may be useful in various ways to me, hereafter, in my plans. He +seems to know the people about here. I dare say he's been here +before. + +"Your position at Louisbourg," continued Cazeneau, "will be one which +will be most honorable: as the daughter of the Count de Laborde, you +will receive universal attention, and my influence shall be exerted +to make everything contribute to your happiness. As commandant, I +shall, of course, be supreme; my house will be like a small +vice-regal court, and the little world of Louisbourg will all do +homage to any one whom I may hold up before them as a worthy object." + +Cazeneau paused after he had said this. It was a speech which was +uttered slowly and with emphasis, but its meaning was not altogether +apparent to Mimi. Still there was enough of it intelligible to her to +make it seem excessively unpleasant. What he exactly meant was of no +importance, the general meaning being certainly this: that he +designed for her some prolonged stay there, during which he intended +to secure homage and respect for her. Now, that was a thing that Mimi +recoiled from with distaste. She had always detested this man, she +had always shrunk from him. Her present position of dependence was +most bitter; but to have that position continue was intolerable. It +was as though he tried to put himself into the place of her beloved +father,--he, whom she regarded as her father's evil genius,--as +though he intended to make himself her guardian, and introduce her as +his ward. + +"You speak," said she, in a trembling voice, "just as--as if--I--you +supposed that I was going to live at Louisbourg." + +"And where else do you wish to live?" asked Cazeneau, placidly. + +"I want to go home," said Mimi, her eyes filling with tears, and her +voice sounding like the wail of a child that has lost its way. + +"My poor child," said Cazeneau, more tenderly than he had yet spoken, +"you evidently do not understand your position as yet. I did not +intend to say anything about it; but, since you feel this way, and +have spoken so, I suppose I must make some explanation. Well, then, +my poor child, when your father left France on this unfortunate +errand, he turned all his property into money, expecting to use that +money in America in some way, in that mysterious design of his which +brought him out here. All this money was on board the Arethuse with +him, and it is hardly necessary to say that it was all lost. I know +that his grief over this, and the thought that he was leaving you +penniless, did more to shorten his life than the sufferings which he +had on the sea. He sank under it. He told me that he could not rally +from it; and it was his utter hopelessness that made him give way so +completely. So, my poor child, this is your present situation: your +father's estates are sold, and are now in the hands of strangers; +your father's money is now at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean; so +that to return to France is, for the present, at least, not to be +thought of. + +"For my part," continued Cazeneau, as Mimi sat there dumb with horror +at hearing this fresh and crushing news, "I do not see anything in +your situation which need give you one moment's uneasiness. You have +lost your father, but your father's best friend still lives, and he +will never see the daughter of his friend know one single trouble, if +he can help it. We were more than brothers. Suppose you try to think +of me with something of the same confidence that your father felt. I, +for my part, will put you in his place. You shall never know a care. +You may consider yourself rich. You shall have no trouble except that +deep sorrow which you feel as a fond daughter." + +"I cannot live in America," moaned Mimi, despairingly, recoiling in +her heart from Cazeneau, and dreading him more than ever. "I cannot. +I want to go home; or, if I have no home, I want to go to France. I +will enter a convent." + +Cazeneau smiled at this. + +"Such a wish, dear child," said he, "is quite natural now, in the +first freshness of your bereavement; but time alleviates all sorrow, +and you may think differently hereafter. As to returning to France, +you shall most certainly do that. I intend to go back after a time; +and you will once more live in our dear, native land. But, for the +present, let us not talk of these things. Louisbourg is now our +destination. Fear nothing. You shall not know a care. You shall be +guarded from every want, and every wish shall be gratified. You shall +find yourself surrounded by the most anxious, and tender, and +solicitous care for your happiness." + +These last words were spoken in a warmer and more impassioned manner +than Cazeneau had thus far used, and their effect upon Mimi was so +much the more unpleasant. He then raised her hand to his lips with +respectful affection, and took his departure. + +Mimi was for a time quite overwhelmed. The sorrow which she had +experienced for her father gave way to a new feeling--one of terror, +deep, dark, and irremovable--about herself and her own future. All +Cazeneau's words recurred to her, and the more she thought of them, +the more hateful did they seem. Out of them all several things +appeared plain to her mind. + +First, that she was a pauper. Of Cazeneau's words she did not doubt +the truth. It seemed in the highest degree probable. She had all +along known that her father had come to America to search after some +of the Montresors, and to made reparation. Cazeneau now had informed +her that he had turned all his property into money. It must have been +for that purpose. The thought had never occurred to her before; but, +now that it was stated, she did not dream of doubting it. It seemed +too true. + +Secondly, she saw that Cazeneau, for some reason or other, was +determined to keep her under his control. He was determined not to +allow her to return to France, and not to enter a convent. He was +bent upon associating her with his own life, and causing her to be +admired in Louisbourg. Added to this was his promise to take her back +to France with himself. All this showed that he would on no account +allow her to part with him. What was the meaning of it all? And now +the thought could no longer be kept out of her mind: Cazeneau's +purpose was to make her his wife. + +His wife! + +The thought was to her most odious; but, having once presented +itself, she could not argue it away, nor could she get rid of it at +all. Yes, that was the meaning that lurked behind his words all the +time. That was the meaning of his promise to make her admired and +happy. + +Finally, she remembered how he had stated to her the fact that he was +supreme in Louisbourg, and that through his grandeur she was to +receive homage from all the lesser throng. To her this seemed like a +plain statement that she was in his power, and entirely at his mercy. + +And now, what could she do? The future was worse than ever. She was +completely in the power of a man whom she detested--a man upon whom +she looked as her father's evil genius, as one whose evil counsel had +long ago led her father to that act which he had atoned for by +remorse and death. She was now in the hands of this villain. Escape +seemed impossible. He was supreme here. From him there was no appeal. +And she was a beggar. But, even if she were rich, what hope could she +have against him? + +As she asked herself this question, there was no answer. She did not +know what she could do, and could scarcely hope that she would ever +know. + +It was in this state of mind that Pere Michel found her, on the +evening of that day. Mimi saw his arrival with intense delight. Here +seemed one who might relieve her in her distress. Accordingly she +proceeded to tell him her whole story, all the words of Cazeneau, +with all their implied meaning, and all her own fears, from beginning +to end. + +The priest heard her narration in profound silence, and after she had +told him all, he remained in deep thought for some time, while Mimi +sat anxiously awaiting what he might say. + +"My dear child," said the priest, at length, "it is difficult for me +to give you advice, for your situation is most unpleasant, and most +distressing to me. I can only entreat you to put your trust in that +Heaven who never deserts the innocent. You must go to +Louisbourg--there is no hope of escaping that. Besides, you yourself +wish to go there. The Count de Cazeneau certainly has the chief power +there; but whether he is omnipotent remains to be seen. Who knows +what other powers may be there? I have known cases where the +commandant has had powerful rivals,--such as the admiral of the +fleet, or some subordinate who had influence at court at home. I have +known places where the bishop could interfere and prevent his doing +wrong. So, be calm, my daughter, put your trust in Heaven, and +recollect that the commandant cannot break through all restraints, +but that there must be some barriers that he cannot force. If you +wish the protection of the church, that will always be yours. Beware +how you do anything rashly. Confide in me. Perhaps, after all, these +troubles may have a good end." + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +A FRIEND IN NEED. + + +For more than a week Claude had been kept in confinement, and had +seen nothing of any of his former acquaintances. The confinement was +not so close as it might have been, and escape was not absolutely +impossible, for the window which lighted the chamber was merely a +wooden sash, with four panes of glass, which Claude could have +removed, had he been so disposed; but this he was not inclined to do, +and for two reasons. One reason was, because, if he did get out, he +had no idea where to go. Annapolis Royal was the nearest settlement +belonging to the English; but he did not know in which direction it +lay. He knew, however, that between Grand Pre and that place the +country was settled by the French, among whom he could not go without +being captured by his pursuers, while if he took to the woods he +would be sure to fall into the hands of the Indians, who were the +zealous allies of the French. Such a prospect was of itself +sufficient to deter him from the attempt to escape. But there was +also another reason. He could not bear the thought of leaving Mimi +forever, and never seeing her again. If he should succeed in escaping +to Annapolis Royal, it would be an eternal separation between her and +himself. Grand Pre seemed pleasant to him since she was here; and he +thought it better to be a prisoner here than a free man elsewhere. +He, therefore, deliberately preferred to run any risk that might be +before him, with the faint hope of seeing Mimi again, rather than to +attempt flight. + +What had happened since he had come here he did not know very +clearly. From conversation which he had overheard he had gathered +that Labordo was dead; but, when he asked any of them about it, they +refused to tell him anything at all. Claude was, therefore, left to +make the most that he could out of this vague information. But the +intelligence caused him to feel much anxiety about Mimi. He +remembered well all that she had ever told him, and could not help +wondering what she would do under present circumstances. Would she be +willing to remain in the neighborhood of Cazeneau? But how could she +help it? Would not Cazeneau take advantage of her present loneliness +to urge forward any plans that he might have about her? + +Already the suspicion had come to Claude that Cazeneau had certain +plans about Mimi. What he thought was this: that Laborde was rich, +that Mimi was his heiress, and that Cazeneau was a man of profligate +life and ruined fortunes, who was anxious to repair his fortunes by +marrying this heiress. To such a man the disparity in their years +would make no difference, nor would he particularly care whether Mimi +loved him or not, so long as he could make her his wife, and gain +control over her property. What had given him this idea about +Cazeneau's position and plans it is difficult to say; but it was +probably his own jealous fears about Mimi, and his deep detestation +of his enemy. + +And now he began to chafe against the narrow confines of his chamber +with greater impatience. He longed to have some one with whom he +could talk. He wondered whether Cazeneau would remain here much +longer, and, if he went away, whether he would take Mimi or leave +her. He wondered, also, whether he would be taken to Louisbourg. He +felt as if he would rather go there, if Mimi was to go, even at the +risk of his life, than remain behind after she had left. But all his +thoughts and wonders resulted in nothing whatever, for it was +impossible to create any knowledge out of his own conjectures. + +He was in the midst of such thoughts as these when his ears were +attracted by the sound of a familiar voice. He listened attentively. +It was the voice of Pere Michel. No sooner had Claude satisfied +himself that it was indeed the priest, than he felt sure that he had +come here to visit him; and a little longer waiting showed that this +was the case. There were advancing footsteps. Madame Comeau opened +the door, and Pere Michel entered the chamber. The door was then +shut, and the two were alone. + +So overcome was Claude by joy that he flung himself into the priest's +arms and embraced him. The good priest seemed to reciprocate his +emotion, for there were tears in his eyes, and the first words that +he spoke were in tremulous tones. + +"My son," the priest commenced, in gentle, paternal tones, and in a +voice that was tremulous with emotion, "you must calm yourself." +Then, suddenly speaking in English, he said, "It is necessaire dat we +sall spik Ingeles, for ze peuple of ze house may suspeck--" + +Upon this Claude poured forth a torrent of questions in English, +asking about Laborde, Cazeneau, Zac, and Mimi. It will not be +necessary to report the words of the priest in his broken English, +but rather to set them down according to the sense of them. So the +priest said,-- + +"You speak too fast, my son. One thing at a time. The poor Laborde is +dead and buried. The Count Cazeneau is about to go to Louisbourg. +Mimi is going with him." + +"Mimi going with him!" cried Claude, in deep agitation. + +"Be calm, my son. Do not speak so loud. I have told the people of +this house that your life is in danger, and that I have come as a +priest, to hear your last confession. I do not wish them to suspect +my real errand. We may talk as we wish, only do not allow yourself to +be agitated." + +"But tell me," said Claude, in a calmer voice, "how is it possible +that Mimi can trust herself with Cazeneau?" + +"_Ma foi_," said the priest, "it is possible, for she cannot help it. +But do not fear. I am going to accompany them, and, as far as my +feeble power can do anything, I will watch over her, and see that she +suffers no injustice. I hope that Heaven will assist her innocence +and my protection; so do not allow yourself to be uneasy about her; +but hope for the best, and trust in Heaven." + +At this Claude was silent for a few moments. At length he said,-- + +"O, Pere Michel, must I stay here when she goes? Can you tell me what +they are going to do with me?" + +"It is about yourself that I am going to speak, and it was for this +that I came," said the priest. + +"Can I go with the others to Louisbourg?" asked Claude, eagerly; for +he thought only of being near Mimi. + +"Heaven forbid!" said the priest. "It is in a for different way that +you are to go. Listen to me. The Count de Cazeneau is going to set +out to-morrow, with a party of Indians as escort. Mimi is to be taken +with him. I am going, too. It is his intention to leave you here for +a time, till his escort can return. They will then take you to +Louisbourg. If he can find any Indians on the way whom he can make +use of, he will send them here for you. But meantime you are to be +kept imprisoned here. + +"Now, I am acquainted with the Indians better than most men. I lived +in Acadie formerly, long enough to be well known to the whole tribe. +I am also well known to the Acadians. Among the Indians and the +Acadians there are many who would willingly lay down their lives for +me. I could have delivered you before this, but I saw that you were +not in any immediate danger; so I preferred postponing it until the +Count de Cazeneau had left. I do not wish him to suspect that I have +any interest in you; and when he hears of your escape, I do not wish +him to think that I had anything to do with it. But I have already +made all the plans that are necessary, and the men are in this +neighborhood with whom I have arranged for your escape." + +"What is the plan?" asked Claude, eagerly. + +"I will tell you," said the priest. "There are six Indians, all of +them devoted to me. They will guide you to a place of safety, and +will be perfectly faithful to you as long as they are with you. They +are ready to go anywhere with you, to do anything for you, even to +the extent of laying down their lives for you. It is for my sake that +they are willing to show this devotion. I have presented you to them +as my representative, and they look upon you as they would look upon +me. But, first of all, you are to get out of this. Can you open that +window?" + +"It was fastened tight when I first came," said Claude; "but I have +loosened it, so that I can take it out very quickly." + +"Very good. Now, one of these Indians will be here to-morrow night. +We shall leave to-morrow morning; and I do not want you to be rescued +till after our departure. At midnight, to-morrow, then, the Indian +will be here. He will give a sound like a frog, immediately outside, +under the window. You must then open the window. If you see him, or +hear him, you must then get out, and he will take you to the woods. +After that he and the rest of the Indians will take you through the +woods to Port Royal, which they call Annapolis Royal. Here you will +be safe from Cazeneau until such time as may suit you to go back to +Boston. Annapolis Royal is about twenty-four leagues from this place, +and you can easily go there in two days." + +Claude listened to all this without a word; and, after the priest had +ended, he remained silent for some time, with his eyes fixed on the +floor. + +"The Indians will be armed," said the priest, "and will have a rifle +and a sword for you. So you need have no trouble about anything." + +"My dear Pere Michel," said Claude, at last, "you lay me under very +great obligations; but will you not add to them by allowing me to +select my own route?" + +"Your own route?" asked the priest. "What do you mean? You don't know +the country, especially the woods, while these Indians will be at +home there." + +"What I mean is this," said Claude: "will you not allow me the use of +this Indian escort in another direction than the one you mention?" + +"Another direction? Why, where else can you possibly go? Annapolis is +the nearest place for safety." + +"I should very much prefer," said Claude "to go to Canso." + +"To Canso!" said the priest, in great surprise; "to Canso! Why, you +would come on our track!" + +"That is the very reason why I wish to go there. Once in Canso, I +should be as safe as in Annapolis." + +The priest shook his head. + +"From what I hear, Canso cannot be a safe place for you very long. +England and France are on the eve of war, and Cazeneau expects to get +back Acadie--a thing that is very easy for him to do. But why do you +wish to venture so near to Louisburg? Cazeneau will be there now; and +it will be a very different place from what it would have been had +you not saved Cazeneau from the wreck, and made him your enemy." + +"My dear Pere Michel," said Claude, "I will be candid with you. The +reason why I wish to go in that direction is for the sake of being +near to Mimi, and on account of the hope I have that I may rescue +her." + +"Mimi! Rescue her!" exclaimed the priest, astonished, not at the +young man's feelings towards Mimi, for those he had already +discovered, but rather at the boldness of his plan,--"rescue her! Why +how can you possibly hope for that, when she will be under the +vigilant eye of Cazeneau?" + +"I will hope it, at any rate," said Claude. "Besides, Cazeneau will +not be vigilant, as he will not suspect that he is followed. His +Indians will suspect nothing. I may be able, by means of my Indians, +to entice her away, especially if you prepare her mind for my +enterprise." + +The priest was struck by this, and did not have any argument against +it; yet the project was evidently distasteful to him. + +"It's madness," said he. "My poor boy, it may cost you your life." + +"Very well," said Claude; "let it go. I'd rather not live, if I can't +have Mimi." + +The priest looked at him sadly and solemnly. + +"My poor boy," said he, "has it gone so far as that with you?" + +"As far as that--yes," said Claude, "and farther. Recollect I saved +her life. It seems to me as if Heaven threw her in my way; and I'll +not give her up without striking a blow. Think of that scoundrel +Cazeneau. Think of the danger she is in while under his power. There +is no hope for her if he once gets her in Louisbourg; the only hope +for her is before she reaches that place; and the only one who can +save her is myself. Are my Indians faithful for an enterprise of that +kind?" + +"I have already told you," said the priest, "that they would all lay +down their lives for you. They will go wherever you lead. And now, my +dear son," continued the priest, "I did not think that you would +dream of an enterprise like this. But, since you have made the +proposal, and since you are so earnest about it, why, I make no +opposition. I say, come, in Heaven's name. Follow after us; and, if +you can come up with us, and effect a communication with Mimi, do so. +Your Indians must be careful; and you will find that they can be +trusted in a matter of this kind. If I see that you are coming up +with us, and find any visitors from you, I will prepare Mimi for it. +But suppose you succeed in rescuing her," added the priest; "have you +thought what you would do next?" + +"No," said Claude; "nor do I intend to think about that. It will +depend upon where I am. If I am near Canso, I shall go there, and +trust to finding some fisherman; if not, I shall trust to my Indians +to take us back through the woods to Annapolis. But there's one thing +that you might do." + +"What?" + +"Zac--is he on board the schooner, or ashore?" + +"The skipper?" said the priest. "No. I have not seen him. I think he +must be aboard the schooner. It is my intention to communicate with +him before I leave this place." + +"Do so," said Claude, eagerly; "and see if you can't get him free, as +you have managed for me; and if you can persuade him, or beg him for +me, to sail around to Canso, and meet me there, all will be well. +That is the very thing we want. If he will only promise to go there, +I will push on to Canso myself, at all hazards." + +The priest now prepared to go. A few more words were exchanged, after +which Claude and Pere Michel embraced. The priest kissed him on both +cheeks. + +"Adieu, my dear son," said he. "I hope we may meet again." + +"Adieu, dear Pere Michel," said Claude. "I shall never forget your +kindness." + +With this farewell the two separated; the priest went out, and the +door was fastened again upon Claude. + +For the remainder of that night, Claude did not sleep much. His mind +was filled with the new prospect that the priest's message had opened +before him. The thought of being free once more, and at the head of a +band of devoted followers, on the track of Mimi, filled him with +excitement. That he would be able to overtake the party of Cazeneau, +he did not doubt; that he would be able to rescue Mimi, he felt +confident. The revulsion from gloom and despondency to hope and joy +was complete, and the buoyant nature of Claude made the transition an +easy one. It was with difficulty that he could prevent himself from +bursting forth into songs. But this would have been too dangerous, +since it would have attracted the attention of the people of the +house, and led them to suspect that the priest had spoken other words +to him than those of absolution; or they might report this sudden +change to Cazeneau, and thereby excite his suspicions. + +The next day came. Claude knew that on this day Cazeneau and his +party had left, for he overheard the people of the house speaking +about it. According to their statements, the party had left at about +four in the morning. This filled Claude with a fever of impatience, +for he saw that this first day's march would put them a long way +ahead, and make it difficult for him to catch up with them. But there +was only one day, and he tried to comfort himself with the thought +that he could travel faster than the others, and also that the priest +and Mimi would both manage to retard their progress, so as to allow +him to catch up. + +The day passed thus, and evening came at last. Hour after hour went +by. All the family retired, and the house was still. Claude then +slowly, and carefully, and noiselessly removed the window from its +place. Then he waited. The hours still passed on. At last he know +that it must be about midnight. + +Suddenly he heard, immediately outside, a low, guttural sound--the +well-known sound of a frog. It was the signal mentioned by the +priest. The time had come. + +He put his head cautiously outside. Crouched there against the wall +of the house, close underneath, he saw a dusky figure. A low, +whispered warning came up. Claude responded in a similar manner. +Then, softly and noiselessly, he climbed out of the window. His feet +touched the ground. No one had heard him. He was saved. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE PARSON AMONG THE PHILISTINES. + + +A map of this part of America, in this year, 1743, would show a very +different scene from that which is presented by one of the present +date. The country held by the English did not reach beyond the +Kennebec, although claimed by them. But north of this river it was +all in the virtual possession of the French, and on the map it was +distinguished by the French colors. A line drawn from the mouth of +the Penobscot, due north, to the River St. Lawrence, divided New +England from the equally extensive territory of New Scotland, or Nova +Scotia. This New England was bordered on the east by Nova Scotia, on +the north by the River St. Lawrence, and on the west by the province +of New York. But in New England the French colors prevailed over +quite one half of this territory; and in Nova Scotia, though all was +claimed by the English, every part was actually held by the French, +except one or two points of a most unimportant character. + +Looking over such a map, we perceive the present characteristics all +gone, and a vast wilderness, full of roaming tribes of Indians, +filling the scene. North of Boston there are a few towns; but beyond +the little town of Falmouth, the English settlements are all called +Fort this and Fort that. Up the valley of the Kennebec is the mark of +a road to Quebec; and about half way, at the head waters of the +Kennebec, a point is marked on the map with these words: "_Indian and +French rendezvous. Extremely proper for a fort, which mould restrain +the French and curb the Abenakki Indians_." And also: "_From Quebec +to Kennebek River mouth, not much above half way to Boston, and one +third to New York, thence by that R. and ye Chaudiere ye road to +Canada is short_." + +North of the St. Lawrence is a vast country, which is called New +France. As Old France and Old England struggle for the supremacy in +the old world, so New France and New England struggle for the +supremacy in the new world, and the bone of contention is this very +district alluded to,--this border-ground,--called by the French +L'Acadie, but claimed by the English as Nova Scotia, which bordered +both on New England and New France. + +This debatable territory on the map is full of vast waste spaces, +together with the names of savage tribes never heard of before or +since, some of which are familiar names, merely spelled in an unusual +manner, while others owe their origin, perhaps, to the imagination of +the map-maker or his informant. Thus, for example, we have Massasuk, +Arusegenticook, Saga Dahok, and others of equally singular sound. + +In this debatable territory are numerous forts, both French and +English. These are situated, for the most part, in the valleys of +rivers, for the very good reason that these valleys afford the best +places for settlement, and also for the further reason that they are +generally used as the most convenient routes of travel by those who +go by land from one post to another. These forts are numerous on the +west of New England; they also stud the map in various places towards +the north. The valley of the St. John, in Nova Scotia, is marked by +several of these. Farther on, the important isthmus which connects +the peninsula of Nova Scotia with the main land is protected by the +strong post called Fort Beausejour. + +In this peninsula of Nova Scotia, various settlements are marked. One +is named Minas, which is also known as Grand Pre, a large and +important community, situated in one of the most beautiful and +fertile valleys in America. In the neighborhood of this are a half +dozen points, marked with the general name of French settlements, +while the vacant places between and beyond are marked with the name +Mic Macs, which is the title of the Indians who inhabit Nova Scotia. +One post here, however, possesses a singular interest in the eyes of +the good people of Boston. It is marked on the map by the name of +Annapolis, once the French Port Royal, but now the only English post +of any consequence in all Nova Scotia. Here resides the handful of +Englishmen who claim to rule the province. But the government is a +mockery, and the French set it at defiance. If England wishes to +assert her power here, she must have a far different force in the +country from the handful of ragged and ill-armed soldiers who mount +guard on the tumble-down forts at Annapolis. + +Beyond all these, at the extreme east of the peninsula, is an island +called by the French Ile Royale, and by the English Cape Breton. This +is held by the French. Here is their greatest stronghold in America, +except Quebec, and one, too, which is regarded by Boston with greater +jealousy and dread than the latter, since it is actually nearer, is +open winter and summer, and can strike a more immediate blow. + +This was the extreme eastern outpost of French power in America. Here +the French colonies reached out their arms to the mother country. +Here began that great chain of fortresses, which ran up the valleys +of navigable rivers, and connected with the great fortress of Quebec +the almost impregnable outpost of Ticonderoga, and the posts of +Montreal Island. From these the chain of military occupation extended +itself towards the south, through the valleys of the Ohio and the +Mississippi, until they were connected with the flourishing colony at +New Orleans. + +Thus it was, and with these advantages, that the French engaged in +the great and momentous conflict with the English for the possession +of America, and on the side of the former were the greater part of +the wild and warlike Indians. + +And now let us return to our friend Zac, who for some time has been +lost sight of. + +When the Aigle came to anchor, the schooner did the same, and lay +under her guns some miles out from the shore. Zac had been allowed a +certain amount of freedom, for, as the lieutenant had promised, his +hands had not been bound. The same liberty was allowed to the others +on board. Six French seamen were on board, who navigated the +schooner, and acted as her guard. These were armed, while Zac and his +friends were all unarmed. While sailing up the bay this guard was +hardly necessary, as the schooner was under the guns of the frigate; +but afterwards the necessity was more apparent. + +The Aigle could not wait at Grand Pre longer than was requisite to +land those who were going ashore. The boat that landed these brought +back a half dozen Acadians from Grand Pre, whom it left on board the +schooner. Then, taking back again her own seamen, the Aigle spread +her white wings and sailed away for _La Belle France_. + +Zac saw this change in affairs with varied feelings. First of all, he +had half hoped that he might be let off, after all; partly because it +was not a time of formal war, and partly because the schooner had +saved some important lives, and therefore, at the very least, ought +to be let off. But this change in her masters dispelled Zac's hope, +and made him see that there was not at all any prospect of an +immediate release. From that moment Zac gave up all hope of any +release whatever, and began to see that, if escape were to be made, +it must be effected by his own skill and daring. + +The new comers seemed willing to maintain the old state of things, +and showed no inclination to keep their prisoners in bonds. They were +a good-natured lot, with simple, unsophisticated faces, and looked +with amiable smiles upon the schooner and its company. Still, they +were all stout, able-bodied fellows, and all were armed. The leader +was a man of about forty, who seemed to be regarded by the rest with +considerable respect. He was also able to speak a few words of +English. They contented themselves with keeping a general lookout +over the schooner and its crew, and taking turns at the night watch. + +In fact, the simple confidence of the Acadians in the security of +their guard seemed to be justified by circumstances. These six stout +men wore armed; Zac and his followers were unarmed. All the floating +craft in the Basin belonged to the Acadians, and all the settlements. +For Zac to escape by water was scarcely possible, and to get off by +land was not to be thought of. The nearest English settlement was +many miles away, and to reach it he would have to run the gantlet of +a population of French and Indians. + +Day after day passed, and Zac spent most of the time in meditating +over his situation and keeping his eyes and ears on the alert. He +understood pretty well that to the villany of Cazeneau were due both +his own captivity and the more serious danger which threatened his +friend. It was from Margot that he had first heard of Cazeneau as an +enemy, and little more had he been able to find out beyond what she +had told him in the brief conversation already related. The illness +of Laborde had necessitated her attendance on her master and +mistress, and prevented any further confidences. Only a few +occasional greetings were possible after that. Then followed the +arrival of the Aigle, and the transfer of Margot, with the rest, to +the French frigate. Zac had consequently been left in the dark as to +the particular villany of Cazeneau towards Laborde and Mimi. But he +had seen enough and felt enough to be sure that his enmity, from +whatever cause it arose, was of no common kind, that Claude was in +great danger, and that he himself was involved in the same peril, +though to a less degree. This conviction served, therefore, to keep +his mind continually on the alert, so as to find out what was the +present situation of Claude, and also to devise and lay hold of some +plan of action for himself. + +In his thoughts the good Pere Michel was suggested as the only one +who could do anything for either of them. What his influence might +be, he could not guess; but he at least believed in his friendliness +and good faith, and he could not help feeling that the priest would +do all that was possible. It seemed to him not unlikely that the +priest might come out to see him, and convey to him some information +about the present state of affairs in Grand Pre. And besides this, he +could not help feeling a vague hope that, even if the priest were +unable to do anything, he might receive some sort of a message from +one whom he could not help as regarding in the light of a +friend--namely, the amiable Margot. + +The situation had been accepted by the rest of the ship's company +without any great display of emotion. Biler's melancholy remained +unchanged, and still, as of yore, he passed much of his time at the +mast-head, contemplating the universe, and eating raw turnips. +Jericho remained as busy as ever, and cared for his pots, and his +kettles, and his pans, without apparently being conscious that his +master was a slave now, as well as himself. Upon Terry, also, the +yoke of captivity lay but lightly. It was not in the nature of Terry +to be downcast or sullen; and the simple expedients which had led him +to fraternize with the shipwrecked sailors had afterwards enabled him +to fraternize equally well with the crew of the Aigle that had been +put on board. These had gone, and it remained now for him to come to +an understanding with the Acadians. Constant practice had made him +more capable, and, in addition to his own natural advantages, he had +also learned a few French words, of which he made constant use in the +most efficient way. The Acadians responded to Terry's advances quite +as readily as any of the others had done; and before they had been on +board one day they were all singing and laughing with the merry Irish +lad, and going into fits of uproarious mirth at Terry's incessant use +of the few French words which he had learned; for it was Terry's +delight to stop each one of them, and insist on shaking hands, +whenever he met them, saying at the same time, with all the gravity +in the world,-- + +"_Commy voo party voo, bong tong. Bon jure, moosoo_!" + +Thus nearly a week passed, and during all that time Zac had heard +nothing about the fate of his friends ashore. Neither the priest nor +Margot sent him any message whatever. The Acadians themselves did not +hold any communication with the shore, but remained on board quite +placidly, in a state of calm content--as placidly, indeed, as though +they had been living on board the Parson all their lives. + +During all the time Zac had been meditating over his situation, and +trying to see his way out of it. At length a ray of light began to +dawn into his mind, which illuminated his present position, and +opened up to him a way of action. One day after dinner, while the +Acadians were lolling in the sun, and while Terry was smoking his +pipe forward, Zac sauntered up to him in a careless fashion, and +placing himself near Terry, where he could not be overheard, he began +to talk in an easy tone with the other, + +"Terry, lad," said he, "I'm getting tired o' this here." + +"Faix, an' it's mesilf that's been waitin' to hear ye say that same +for a week an' more--so it is." + + +[Illustration: "I Think We Can Manage To Get The Schooner From These +Chaps."] + + +"Wal, ye see, I ben a turnin' it over in my mind, and hain't +altogether seen my way clear afore; but now it seems to me as how +it's a burnin' shame to stand this here any longer." + +"Thrue for you; an' so it is," said Terry. "An' so, ef ye've got +anythin' on yer mind that ye want to do, why, out with it, for I'm +your man." + +"Wal, ye see," resumed Zac, "it's this here; I don't want to go away +out o' this jest yet." + +"Not go away! Tare an ages," cried Terry; "d'ye want to be a +prisoner?" + +"Course not. I mean this: I don't want to go an' leave my friend +here, Motier, in the hands of the Philistines." + +"Sure ye can't do anythin' for him; an' he's among his own kin--so he +is; for he jabbers French ayqual to the best of thim." + +"No, I can't do anything for him as I am; that's a fact; and so I'm +bound to put myself in a position whar I can do somethin'; that is, +I'm bound to seize this here schewner, an' bring the old Parson back +to the fold." + +"Arrah, sure, an' that's the right sort of talk--so it is; an' it's +mesilf that's glad to hear ye. An' so, what is it, captain dear? Out +with it. Tell me what yer plan is, an' I'm wid ye--so I am." + +"I think, Terry, that we can manage to get the schewner from these +chaps--can't we?" + +"Sure we can. Sure, an' I'd ingage to do it alone, almost." + +"They don't watch much." + +"Not a bit of it." + +"The two that watch at night sleep half the time." + +"Sure, an' that's thrue for you, for I've seed thim at it whin I was +asleep mesilf." + +"We can git Jericho to bar down the cabin door, Terry, an' then you +an' I can seize the two on deck." + +"Aisy enough--so it is. They'll all be dead asleep--so they will." + +"Wal, thar we'll have them; an' then I hope to be able to bring a +pressure on the natyves of these regions by which I may git my friend +out of their clutches." + +"Sure, an' I don't onderstand ye at all, at all." + +"Why, I'll have these six Acadians prisoners, an' then I'll sail up +off Grand Pre, an' threaten to cut the throats of all of them if they +don't send off Motier to me in ten minutes." + +"Tare an' ages!" cried Terry. "Whoroo! but isn't that the plan? It +is. It bates the wurruld--so it does. An whin'll ye begin, captain +darlint?" + +"To-night," said Zac. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +A STROKE FOE LIBERTY. + + +Zac and Terry talked for a long time over the plan, trying to chat in +an off-hand and careless manner, so as not to excite any suspicion. +No suspicion appeared to be raised among the Acadians, who took no +notice of them whatever. So Zac and Terry had sufficient opportunity +to arrange all the details of the plan, and it was decided that Terry +should indicate to Jericho what was to be done by him. It was agreed +that the best time would be about three o'clock in the morning; for +then the Acadians below would all be in their soundest sleep, while +those who kept watch on deck would probably, in accordance with their +usual careless fashion, be sunk into a slumber no less sound. Terry +at length left Zac, and moved about in a desultory fashion, after +which he finally settled down among the Acadians, and began to sing +to them the immortal strain of St. Patrick. + +Although Zac had upon his mind the weight of such an important +enterprise, yet it did not at all interfere with his usual slumbers. +He went to bed at nine, and slept soundly. At about half past two he +awoke, and waited a little longer. Then he roused Terry and Jericho. +Terry then went upon deck noiselessly, and reconnoitred. It was as +they had hoped it would be. Two men were on deck as a watch, but both +were crouched under the taffrail fast asleep. Terry proposed to go +and shut down the cabin door, where the rest of the Acadians were; +but Zac concluded that it would be best for Jericho to do this, so +that in case the noise should wake the watch, he and Terry might be +on hand to deal with them. Jericho was now sent aft, charged with the +burden of an important commission. He went softly and swiftly, like a +spirit of night. His whole nature seemed changed by the purpose +before him. In an instant he had ceased to be the lowly slave intent +on cookery, and had started up into the attitude of an African +warrior. As he glided along, Zac and Terry, with equal noiselessness, +moved towards the slumbering watch, and then waited. It was necessary +that the cabin should first be closed, so that those within, if +alarmed by the outcry of their friends, should not be able to help +them. + +All went on well. Jericho reached the cabin, and then swiftly, and +with as little noise as possible, shut the door and fastened it. Upon +this, Zac and Terry each seized one of the slumbering Acadians, and +before they were fairly awake they were disarmed. + +Zac and Terry both scorned to bind them, partly out of kindly feeling +towards them, partly because they themselves had not been bound, and +partly out of the pride of their manhood. The Acadians at first stood +stupefied, and then, recognizing the whole truth, they slunk forward, +and stood dejectedly in the bows, where they awaited with fear the +further action of their late prisoners. + +Both Terry and Zac made friendly signs to them, pressing their hands +on their hearts, smiling, nodding, and so forth; while Terry even +went so far as to whistle one of their favorite melodies. But the +Acadians were not to be reassured. They looked upon themselves as +lost men, and evidently regarded Terry as a traitor of the deepest +dye. + +They now waited till the others in the cabin should make some sign. +Jericho had armed himself with an axe, with which he stood ready to +act in case of a fight. It was evident that the Acadians in the cabin +had heard nothing whatever, and not one of them awaked before the +usual time. Then, of course, the painful discovery was made by them. +At first, loud cries and threats were made; but these were stilled by +Zac, who in a voice of thunder awed them into silence. + +"You are prisoners!" said he. "Give up your arms." + +The one who understood a little English was able to comprehend this. +The command was followed by an excited debate among the four, which +was at last ended by a second mandate from Zac, accompanied by a +threat to fire upon them. At this a hurried answer was given:-- + +"We render. We render. Fire not." + +A small skylight was then opened, and all the arms and equipments of +the prisoners were passed up. These were appropriated by Zac. The +door of the cabin was then unfastened and opened, and the prisoners +called upon to come forth. They came looking fearful and dejected, as +though apprehending the worst. Zac, Terry, and Jericho, each with his +musket, stood at the stern, and as they came out they motioned to +them to go to the bows. The Acadians obeyed in silence, and soon +joined their two companions. + +Some time was now occupied by Zac in talking over with Terry the best +course to be pursued. They at length decided to allow the Acadians to +remain unbound by day, and to shut them down at night, or while +sailing. As long as these men were unarmed and themselves armed, they +had not the slightest fear of any trouble arising. For the Acadians, +though stout, muscular fellows, were all so good-natured and +phlegmatic in their faces that no danger of anything so desperate as +an attack on their part was to be anticipated. It was decided, +however, while they were on deck, to keep them confined to the +forward part of the schooner. + +This Zac succeeded in making known to them. + +"We won't do you no harm," said he. "We won't tie you or bind you. At +night you must go below to sleep. If any of you make an attack, we +won't show you any mercy. So you'd best keep quiet." + +The chief Acadian understood this as well by the signs with which it +was accompanied as from the words, and he explained it to his +followers. He then informed Zac that they would be quiet; whereupon +Terry went forward and shook hands with each and all of them. "_Commy +porty-voo? Bon jure, moosoo_," said he; to which the Acadians, +however, made no response. They did indeed allow him to shake their +hands; but they would not say anything, and evidently regarded him as +a perjured villain, and traitor to their cause. + +"Biler!" roared Zac. "Whar are you, you young cuss of life?" + +Upon this the young cuss of life slowly emerged from the forecastle, +holding a cold potato in his hand. The scene on deck made no +impression on him, but he walked aft with his eyes fixed on Zac. + +"Stand there!" commanded Zac; and Biler stood. + +"Feller seamen and comrades at arms," said Zac, stretching out his +arm in the oratorical fashion which he had seen used at town meetings +"to hum." "This is a gellorious day for his great and gracious +majesty King George, whose loyal subjects we air, as we have proved +by this rescoo of his ship from the hands of the Philistines. It air +all very well for the king to send out his red-coats; but I tell you +what it is, I ain't seen a red-coat that lives that's equal to the +natyve pro-vincial. Who air the ones that doos the best fightin' out +here? The pro-vincials! Who air the men that's druv the wild and +bloodthusty Injin back to his natyve woods? The pro-vincial! And who +air the men that's goin' to settle the business of Moosoo, an' make +America too hot to hold him an' his'n? The red-coats? Nay; but +rayther the pro-vincials, the men that's fit the catamounts, an' +bars, an' Injins, an' turned the waste an' howlin' wilderness into a +gardin', an' made the desert blossom like a rose. So, I say, Hooray +for the pro-vincials!" + +At this Zac removed his hat. Terry did the same; so did Jericho. +Biler had none to remove, but he raised his potato in the air. Zac +led off--"Hip, hip, hip, h-o-o-o-r-a-a-a-y!" + +"Arrah, captain, darlint, an' while yo's about it, sure ye won't be +forgettin' ould Ireland," cried Terry, as the ringing cheers died +away over the waters. + +"Certingly," said Zac. "Course. Here goes!" + +And three cheers in the same fashion followed for Terry's native +land. + +"Tare an' ages!" cried Terry; "an' while we're about it, sure an' +we's ought to give three chairs for Africa, in honor of Jericho." + +"Hooray!" cried Zac. "Here goes!" And three cheers followed for +Africa. Whether Jericho knew much about Africa, may be a question; +but he understood at least that this honor was offered to himself, +and accepted it accordingly. It almost overwhelmed him. A wild +chuckle of spasmodic delight burst from him, which threatened to end +in a convulsion. And though he rallied from this, yet he was quite +demoralized, and it was a long time before he settled down into that +sedate old darky which was his normal condition. + +And now Zac waited. Finding himself in command of his own schooner +again, he felt more able to act in case of necessity. He was so far +out from the shore that he was easily able to guard against the +unexpected arrival of any boat. By day he lay at anchor; but when +night came the Acadians were sent below, the anchor was raised, and +the schooner cruised about the bay. The strong tides and currents +caused a little trouble, but Zac soon got the run of them, at least +in a general way, and several nights were thus passed. At length he +began to grow impatient, and felt quite at a loss what to do. He was +half inclined to send one of the Acadians ashore with a message, but +as yet concluded to wait a little longer. + +The Acadians, whether from fear or policy, did as they promised, and +kept quiet. They kept by themselves always, and refused to accept the +advances of Terry, though they were frequently made. They all +appeared listless and dejected, and the smiles, the laughter, and the +singing which had characterized their first days on board had all +passed away, and given place to low, murmured conversation or +silence. + +At length, one evening at about six o'clock, Zac saw a solitary boat +coming from the shore. It was a long way off when he first saw it, +and it seemed to be coming towards the schooner. The tide was +unfavorable, so that the progress was quite slow; but its course lay +steadily towards him, and Zac, who watched it intently, was turning +over in his mind his best plan of action. It did not seem large +enough to contain any very formidable force; but Zac thought best to +take every precaution, and so sent all the Acadians below, while +Terry and Jericho stood ready for action. + +The time passed away, and the boat drew steadily nearer. At length it +came near enough for Zac to see that it was rowed by two men, which +sight was most welcome, since it assured him that no danger was to be +apprehended. As he watched it, the boat drew nearer and nearer. He +said nothing, but waited for them to speak first. He could see that +both of the men were unarmed. + +At last the boat touched the schooner's side. One of the men leaped +on board, securing the boat, and the other followed immediately. They +were both dressed like all the Acadians, but the second boatman had a +slouched hat, which concealed his face. Zac, who carelessly regarded +him, noticed that he was a smooth-faced boy, while the first boatman +was a grizzled old man. + +Both of these looked around, and seemed surprised. At length the boy +advanced towards Zac. + +"Capitaine," said this boy, "what ees dees? You no seem a +preesonaire. You haf a gun. Air you free?" + +At the sound of this voice Zac started back a step or two in utter +amazement. Could it be possible? Yet that voice could not belong to +any other. It must be. And even as he stood thus bewildered, the boy +raised his hat with a shy smile, with which there was also much +sadness mingled, and revealed the face of the little Margot. + +"Wal," exclaimed Zac, "this doos beat creation!" + +Zac then caught both her hands, and held them in a tight grip, and +for a few moments could not speak. + +"I do feel good, little one," said he, in a tremulous voice. "This +here's what I ben a waitin' for--to see you--an' you only--though I +skurse dared to hope it. At any rate, I did hope and feel that you +wouldn't go off without a word, and no more you heven't; an' I feel +so happy that I could cry." + +It was not exaggerated. Honest Zac was unused to such emotions, and +hardly understood them. His eyes were moist as he looked upon Margot, +and she saw that his simple confession was true. Her own emotion was +as great as his. Tears started to her own eyes, and in her sadness +she leaned on his arm and wept. Whereupon Zac's tears fell in spite +of him, and he began to call himself a darned fool, and her a dear +little pet; till the scolding of himself and the soothing of Margot +became so hopelessly intermingled that he called her a darned old +pet, and himself a dear little fool. Whereupon Margot burst into a +laugh, dashed her tears away, and started off from Zac's grasp. + +And now Margot proceeded to tell Zac the reason of her journey. From +her he learned for the first time the events that had taken place on +shore. First, she informed him that Claude was in confinement, and +that Cazeneau intended to take him or send him to Louisbourg; that +Cazeneau himself was bitterly hostile to him. She informed him that +Laborde was dead; that Mimi was in terrible distress, and in mortal +terror of Cazeneau; and finally, that she was to be taken to +Louisbourg. All this filled Zac with concern and apprehension. She +informed Zac that she and her mistress were to be taken away early on +the following morning, and that she had slipped off thus in disguise, +with the consent of her mistress, to let him know the danger of his +friend; for Claude was to remain in Grand Pre for some time longer, +and her mistress thought that after Cazeneau had departed, it might +be possible to do something to save him. + +This occupied some time, and Zac interrupted her with many questions. +At length, having told her story, Margot turned away. This startled +Zac. + +"What!" said he; "you're not a goin' to leave me!" and poor Zac's +voice was like a wail of despair. + +"Why, what ees eet posseeble to do? I moos go to ma maitresse." + +"But-but what'll become of me?" mourned Zac. "I may never see you +again." + +Margot sighed. "I moos go to ma maitresse," she murmured. + +"O, don't! don't now!" cried Zac. "She ain't half as fond of you as +me. She can take care of herself. The priest'll watch over her. O, +don't go, don't! I declar I feel like droundin' myself at the bare +idee." + +Zac, upon this, seized her hand, and begged, and coaxed, and prayed +her to stay; till poor little Margot began to cry bitterly, and could +only plead in broken tones her love for her dear mistress, who was in +such danger, and how base it would be to desert her at such a time. + +"Wal, wal--would you--would you come with me if--if it warn't for +her?" mourned Zac. + +Margot looked up at his face with a slight smile shining through her +tears, which seemed to reassure poor Zac. + +"We sall meet again," said Margot, in a more cheerful voice. + +Zac shook his head disconsolately. + +"And so, adieu," said Margot, in a low voice. + +Zac said nothing, but with an expression of despair he took her in +his arms, kissed her, and then turned away and wept. + +Margot cried bitterly, and got into the boat. The old Acadian +followed. The boat rowed away. + +"_Adieu, et au revoir, cher Zac_," said Margot, calling back and +waving her hat. + +"Goo-oo-d by-ye," said Zac, in a wail of despair. + +For hours Zac stood looking after the boat in perfect silence. At +last he turned away, gulping down a sigh. + +"Darned ef I know what on airth's the matter with me," he murmured. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +MANOEUVRES OF ZAC. + + +Zac slept but little that night. There were two causes for +wakefulness. The first was Margot, who had wrought such mischief with +his thoughts and feelings that he did not know what was the matter +with him. The second cause was the condition of Claude. + +Gradually Margot's image faded away, and he began to turn his +thoughts towards the problem of delivering Claude. How was that to be +done? + +Over this he thought for the greater part of that night. Towards +morning he called Terry, who was to watch for the remainder of the +night, and proceeded to hold a council of war. + +First of all he acquainted Terry with the general state of affairs. +Part of Margot's information had been overheard by him; but Terry, +seeing how things were, had discreetly withdrawn aft, and kept up a +loud whistle, so as to prevent himself from overhearing their words; +so that now the greater part of this information was news to the +Irish boy. + +"And have ye thought of anythin' at all, at all?" he asked. + +"Wal, I've thought over most everythin'," said Zac. "You see, the +state of the case is this: they've got one of us a prisoner ashore +over there, but we've got six of them a prisoner out here." + +"Thrue for you," said Terry. + +"Wal, now, you see, if this Cazeneau was here, he hates Motier so +like pison that he'd sacrifice a hundred Frenchmen rayther'n let him +go--an' in my 'pinion he's worth a hundred Frenchmen, an' more. But +now, bein' as Cazeneau's goin' away to-morrer, we'll be in a position +to deal with the people here that's a keepin' Motier; an' when it +comes to them--why, they won't feel like losin' six of their men for +the sake of one stranger." + +"I wonder," said Terry, "whether the owld boy that came out in the +boat found out anythin'. 'Deed, if he'd had his wits about him, an' +eyes in his head, he'd have seen it all,--so he would." + +"Wal, we'll hev to let 'em know, right straight off." + +"To-morra'd be best." + +"Yes; an' then Cazeneau'll be off. I'd rayther wait till then; it'll +be better for us to have him out of the way." + +"What'll ye do?" + +"Wal, I'll sail up, and send word ashore." + +"How'll you sind word? We can't spake a word of the lingo." + +"Wal, I ben a thinkin' it over, an' I've about come to the conclusion +that the old Frenchman down thar in the cabin'll be the best one to +send." + +"Sure, an' ye won't sind the Frenchman ashore in yer own boat!" + +"Why not?" + +"He'll niver bring it back; so he won't." + +"Then we'll keep the other five Frenchmen." + +"Sure, an' it's a hard thing altogether, so it is, to hev to thrust +him. He'll be after rousin' the country, an' they'll power down upon +us in five hundred fishin' boats; so they will." + +"Wal, if I staid here to anchor, that might be dangerous," said Zac; +"but I ain't got no idee of standin' still in one place for them to +attack me." + +"Sure, an' it'll be best to let him see that if he don't come back +wid Misther Motier, the whole five'll hev their brains blown out." + +"Sartin. He'll have to go with that in his mind; an' what's more, +I'll make him swear an oath to come back." + +"Sure, an' it'll be the hard thing to do when neither of yez +ondherstan' enough of one another's lingo to ax the time af day." + +"Wal, then I'll have to be satisfied with the other five Moosoos. If +the first Moosoo runs for it, he'll leave the other five, an' I ain't +goin' to b'lieve that the farmers here air goin' to let five of their +own relatives and connections perish, rayther'n give up one stranger." + +A few more words followed, and then Zac retired below, leaving Terry +on deck. + +A few hours' sleep sufficed for Zac, and not long after sunrise he +was all ready for action. But the tide was not quite high enough for +his purposes. The long-extended mud flats lay bare in the distance +for miles, and Zac had to wait until a portion, at least, of this +space should be covered. At length the water had spread over as much +of the red mud as seemed desirable, while every hour the schooner +would have a greater depth beneath her; so Zac concluded to start. Up +then went the anchor, the sails were set, and yielding to the impulse +of a favorable breeze, the Parson turned her head towards the +landing-place at Grand Pre. + +Various preparations had to be made, and these now engaged the +attention of Zac, who committed the care of the helm to Terry. The +first was the composition of a letter. It was to be short and to the +point. Zac had already settled in his own mind about the wording of +this, so that the writing of it now occupied but a little time. It +was as follows:-- + + +"_To any Magistrate at Grand Pre_:-- + +"Know all men by this, that the six Acadians sent to take charge of +the schooner 'Rev. Amos Adams,' are now held by me as my prisoners +until such time as Mr. Claude Motier shall be delivered free from +prison. And if Mr. Claude Motier shall not be set free, these six +shall be carried to prison to Boston. And if Mr. Claude Motier be put +to death, these six shall one and all be put to death likewise. + +"An answer is required within three hours. + +"Zion Awake Cox, + +"Master of the schooner 'Rev. Amos Adams.' + +"Minas Basin, May 28, 1743." + + +This Zac folded and addressed, thinking that if no one in Grand Pre +could read English, it would be taken to Claude himself for +translation. + +He next prepared to hoist a large British ensign. It was not often +that the Parson showed her colors, but on this occasion it was +necessary, and Zac saw that this display of English colors would be +an act which would tell its own story, and show Moosoo that the +schooner had once more changed masters. The colors lay on deck, ready +to be hoisted at the proper moment. What that moment was to be he had +already decided. Zac, in his preparations on this occasion, showed +that he possessed a line eye for dramatic effect, and knew how to +create a sensation. There was a small howitzer amidships,--Zac's joy +and pride,--which, like the ensign, was made use of only on great and +rare occasions, such as the king's birthday, or other seasons of +general rejoicing. This he determined to make use of at the present +crisis, thinking that it would speak in tones that would strike +terror to the heart of Moosoo, both on board and ashore. + +Last of all, it remained to explain to the Acadians on board the +purposes upon which he was bent. They were still below. Jericho had +supplied them with their breakfast there, but Zac had not allowed +them on deck. Now, however, he summoned forth their chief man, +leaving the others behind, and proceeded to endeavor, as far as +possible, to explain to this man what he wished. + +The Acadian's stock of English words was but small, yet Zac was able, +after all, by the help of signs, to give him some idea of his +purpose. The letter also was shown him, and he seemed able to gather +from it a general idea of its meaning. His words to Zac indicated a +very lively idea of the danger which was impending over the +prisoners. + +"Me go," he said. "Put me 'shore. Me go _tout de suite_; me deliver +M. Motier; make come here _tout de suite--bon_!" + +"All right," said Zac; "but mind you, he must be here in three +hours--three," he repeated, holding up three fingers; "three hours." + +"O, _oui_--yes--_certainement_--tree hour." + +"These others will be all prisoners if he don't come." + +"O, _oui_--yes; all personaire; _mais_ he vill come, _tout +certainement_." + +"You und'stand now, Moosoo, sure?" + +"O, _oui_; me _comprends_--ond'stand--_certainement_." + +"Well, then, you wait up here till we get nearer, and then you can go +ashore in the boat." + +But Zac's preparations were destined to undergo some delay, for the +wind died out, and the schooner lay idle upon the surface of the +water. For several hours Zac waited patiently, hoping for a change; +but no change came. At length the tide turned, and after a time the +schooner, which had already been drifting helplessly, now began to be +carried back towards the place from which she had started. + +Zac was now left to his own invention, and could only decide that on +the following day, if the wind should fail him, he would send the +boat ashore from his present anchorage, and wait the result. For +various reasons, however, he preferred going nearer; and therefore he +had refrained from sending the boat ashore that day. + +The next day came. There was a fresh breeze and a favorable one. The +waters began to rise. Zac was all ready. Up went the anchor, the +sails were set, and once more the Parson was turned towards the +landing. The breeze now blew steadily, and in course of time Zac +found himself sufficiently near for his purposes, and he began to +act. + +First of all, up went the British ensign. Then, the howitzer was +fired. The noise of the report did not fail of the effect which Zac +had anticipated. He saw the people turning out from their houses, +some standing still and looking, others running towards the landing. +Again and again the gun was fired, each report serving to increase +the excitement among the people ashore. The British ensign was fully +visible, and showed them what had taken place. + +After this Zac sent Jericho ashore in the boat, along with the chief +Acadian. The others were confined below. Zac saw the Acadian land, +and Jericho return. Then he waited. + +But it was not possible for him to wait here, nor was it safe. The +tide would soon fall, leaving, as it retreated, a vast expanse of +bare mud flats. He did not wish to run any risk of the schooner +grounding in a place like this, and therefore allowed her to fall +with the tide, and gradually move back to the bay without. All the +time, however, he kept one eye on the shore. The three hours passed. +He had drifted down again for several miles, and it was no longer +easy to discern objects. But at length he saw a boat sailing from the +shore to the schooner. + +As the boat came nearer, he saw that Claude was not on board. Two men +were in her, one of whom was the man whom he had sent away, and the +other was a stranger. This stranger was an elderly man, of venerable +appearance. They came up, and both went on board. + +The elderly man was one of the chief men of the settlement, and spoke +English sufficiently well to carry on a conversation. The information +which he gave Zac was not at all to the satisfaction of the latter. +It was to the following effect:-- + +That M. Motier had been kept in confinement at the house of Comeau; +that early on the previous day M. Cazeneau had departed for +Louisbourg, with the Abbe Michel, and the Countess de Laborde and her +maid; that M. Motier, however, on the previous night, had somehow +effected his escape. + +Then the old man tried to induce Zac to set the Acadians free, except +one, arguing that one life was enough to hold against that of Motier. +But to this Zac sternly responded that one hundred Acadians would not +be of sufficient value to counterbalance the sacred life of his +friend. The only thing that Zac conceded was the liberty of the +Acadian whom he had sent ashore; for he felt touched by the plucky +conduct of this man in returning to the schooner. To his amazement, +however, this man refused to go, declaring that he had come back to +stand by his friends, and one of the others might be freed instead. +On referring the matter to them, one was found who was weak enough to +take advantage of this offer, and he it was who rowed the old man +ashore. + +Towards evening a canoe came gliding over the water, containing a +single Indian. This Indian held aloof at a certain distance, scanning +the schooner curiously. Zac, seeing this, sprang upon the taffrail, +and called and beckoned to him; for a sudden thought came to him that +the Indian might have been despatched by Claude to tell him +something, and not knowing that he was no longer a prisoner, might be +hesitating as to the best way of approaching. His conjecture seemed +to be right, for this Indian, on seeing him, at once drew near, and +came on board. + +The Indian said not a word, but handed Zac a letter. Zac opened it, +and read the following:-- + + +"Claude Motier is free. Indians hafe safed him, and guide him to +Louisbourg on the trail of Cazeneau. He wishes that you go to Canso, +where you will be useful. He hope to safe Comtesse de Laborde, and +want you to help to safe she. Go, then, to Canso; and if you arrive +immediately, you sall see Indians, and must tell. They sall bing the +intelligence to us. + +"The Pere Michel." + + +On reading this, Zac understood all. He saw that Pere Michel had been +a friend, and had engaged the Indians to help Claude. He at once +determined to go to Canso. That very night he sent the Acadians +ashore, and set sail. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +FLIGHT. + + +On leaving the house, the Indian led the way in silence for some +distance. In the immediate neighborhood of the house were open +fields, while in front of it was the road which ran down to the +river. The house was on the declivity of a hill, at the foot of which +were broad dike-lands, which ran far out till they terminated at the +island already mentioned. Beyond this lay the Basin of Minas, and in +the distance the shadowy outline of the surrounding shores. + +The Indian led the way for some distance across the fields, and then +turned into the road. Along this he passed till he reached the river. +It was the Gaspereaux, at the mouth of which was the place where +Claude had landed. Here the Indian crossed, and Claude followed, the +water not being much above their knees. On reaching the other side, +the Indian walked down the stream, keeping in the open as much as +possible. + +At length they left the river, and went on where the ground rose +gradually. Here they soon entered the woods. It was a broad trail, +and though in the shadow of the trees it was rather dark, yet the +trail was wide enough to allow of Claude following his guide without +any difficulty whatever. For about an hour they walked on in this +way, ascending steadily most of the time, until at length Claude +found himself upon an open space overgrown with shrubbery, and +altogether bare of trees. Here several dusky figures appeared, and +the guide conversed with them for some time. + +Claude now seated himself on the ground. He felt so fatigued already +from this first tramp, that he began to experience a sense of +discouragement, and to think that his confinement had affected his +strength. He gazed wearily and dreamily upon the scene before him. +There, spread out at his feet, was a magnificent prospect. The land +went sloping down to the water. Towards the left were the low +dike-lands running out to the island; beyond this the waters of Minas +Basin lay spread out before him. Thus far there had been no +moonlight; but now, as he looked towards the east, he noticed that +the sky was already flushing with the tints of dawn. But even this +failed to rouse him.. A profound weariness and inertness settled +slowly over every sense and limb, and falling back, he fell into a +deep sleep. + +When he awaked, he saw that it was broad day, and that the sun was +already high up in the sky. He started to his feet, and his first +thought was one of joy at finding that his strength had all returned. + +At his question, the Indian who was the spokesman told him that +Louisbourg was more than twelve days' journey away, and that the path +lay through the woods for the whole distance. + +Before setting forth, the Indian gave him a rifle and a sword, which +he said Pere Michel had requested him to give him. There was also a +sufficient supply of powder and ball. Taking these, Claude then set +out on his long tramp. There were six Indians. Of these, three went +in front, and three in the rear, the whole party going in single +file. The trail was a wide one, and comparatively smooth. The guide +drew Claude's attention to tracks on the ground, which could easily +be recognized as the prints of horse hoofs. To Claude's inquiry how +many there were, the Indian informed him that there were four. By +this it seemed to Claude that Mimi and her maid had each one, while +the other two were used by Cazeneau and the priest. + +After several hours they at length came to a river. It was like the +Gaspereaux in one respect, for it was turbid, and rolled with a swift +current. The banks also were lined with marshes, and the edges were +composed of soft mud. No way of crossing it appeared, and as they +approached it, the Indians turned away to go up the stream. The +prospect of a long detour was very unpleasant to Claude; and when at +length he came to a place where the tracks of the horses went towards +the river, he asked why this was. The Indians informed him that the +horses had crossed here, but that they would have to go farther up. +It did not turn out so bad as Claude had feared, for after about half +an hour's further walk, they stopped at the bank of the river, and +waited. + +To Claude's question why they waited, an extraordinary answer was +given. It was, that they were waiting till the water ran out. This +reminded him of the old classic story about the fool who came to a +river bank and waited for the water to run out, so that he might +cross. Claude could not understand it; but, supposing that his guides +knew what they were about, he waited for the result, taking advantage +of this rest to fortify his inner man with a sound repast. After this +was over, he rose to examine the situation; and the first sight +showed him an astonishing change. He had lingered over his repast, +now eating, now smoking, for about an hour, and in that time there +had been wrought what seemed to him like a wonder of Nature. The +water of the river had indeed been running out, as the Indian said; +and there before him lay the channel, running low, with its waters +still pouring forward at a rate which seemed to threaten final +emptiness. And as he looked, the waters fell lower and lower, until +at length, after he had been there three hours, the channel was +almost empty. + +This particular spot was not so muddy as other parts of the river +bed, and therefore it had been chosen as the best place for crossing. +It was quite hard, except in the middle, where the mud and water +together rose over their knees; and thus this mighty flood was +crossed as though it had been some small brook. + +A few hours more served to bring them to the foot of some hills; and +here the party halted. They had once more picked up the trail, and +Claude was encouraged by the sight of the horse tracks. + +He now unfolded to the Indian his design. To his great pleasure he +found that Pere Michel had already anticipated him, and that the +Indian understood very well what was wanted. He assured Claude that +he could easily communicate with the others so as not to be +suspected, and lead back Pere Michel and the women to him. His plan +was to make a _detour_, and get ahead of them, approaching them from +that direction, so as to avoid suspicion, while Claude might remain +with the other Indians in some place where they could be found again. +This plan seemed to Claude so simple and so feasible that he grew +exultant over the prospect, forgetting the many difficulties that +would still be before him, even if this first enterprise should +succeed. + +Their repast was simple and easily procured. The woods and waters +furnished all that they required. A hare and some snipe and plover, +with a few trout and a salmon, were the result of a short excursion, +that did not extend much farther than a stone's throw from the +encampment. + +The next day they resumed their journey. It lay over the hills, which +were steep, though not very high. The trail now grew rougher, being +covered with stones in many places, so as to resemble the dry channel +of a mountain torrent, while in other places the roots of trees which +ran across interfered with rapid progress. This Claude saw with great +satisfaction, for he knew that horses could go but slowly over a path +like this; and therefore every step seemed to lessen the distance +between him and Mimi. All that day they were traversing these hills. + +The next day their journey lay through a gentle, undulating country, +where the towering trees of the forest rose high all around, while at +their feet were mosses, and wild grasses, and ferns, and flowers of a +kind that were utterly strange to Claude. It was the month of June, +the time when all nature in Acadie robes herself in her fairest +charms. + +Thus day after day passed, each day being the counterpart of the +other in its cloudless skies, its breath from the perfumed woods, and +the song of birds. On the sixth day the tracks of the horses seemed +to be fresher than usual; and to Claude's question the Indian replied +that they must be close by them. At this Claude hurried on more +vigorously, and kept up his march later than usual. He was even +anxious to go forward all night; but the Indian was unwilling. He +wished to approach them by day rather than by night, and was afraid +of coming too suddenly upon them, and thus being discovered, if they +went on while the others might be resting. Thus Claude was compelled +to restrain his impatient desires, and wait for the following day. + +When it came they set forth, and kept up a rapid pace for some hours. +At length they came to an opening in the woods where the scene was no +longer shut in by trees, but showed a wide-extended prospect. It was +a valley, through which ran a small stream, bordered on each side +with willows. The valley was green with the richest vegetation. +Clusters of maples appeared like groves, here and there interspersed +with beech and towering oaks, while at intervals appeared the +magnificent forms of grand elms all covered with drooping foliage, +and even the massive trunks green with the garlands of tender and +gracefully-bending shoots. + +For a moment Claude stood full of admiration at this lovely scene, +and then hurried on after his guide. The guide now appeared desirous +of slackening his pace, for he saw that if the other party were not +far away he would be more liable to discovery in this open valley; +but it was not very wide. About half a mile farther on, the deep +woods arose once more; and, as there were no signs of life here, he +yielded to Claude's impatient entreaty, and went on at his usual +pace. + +Half way across the valley there was a grove of maple trees; the path +ran close beside it, skirting it, and then going beyond it. Along +this they went, and were just emerging from its shelter, when the +guide made a warning movement, and stood still. The next instant +Claude was at his side. The Indian grasped Claude's arm, and made a +stealthy movement backward. + +That very instant Claude saw it all. A man was there--a European. Two +Indians were with him. He was counting some birds which the Indians +were carrying. It seemed as though they had been shooting through the +valley, and this was their game. They could not have been shooting +very recently, however, as no sound had been heard. This was the +sight that met Claude's eyes as he stood by the Indian, and as the +Indian grasped his arm. + +It was too late. The European looked up. It was Cazeneau! + +For a moment he stood staring at Claude as though he was some +apparition. But the Indians who were behind, and who came forward, +not knowing what was the matter, gave to this vision too practical a +character; and Cazeneau saw plainly enough that, however +unaccountable it might be, this was in very deed the man whom he +believed to be in safe confinement at Grand Pre. A bitter curse +escaped him. He rushed towards Claude, followed by his Indians. + +"Scoundrel," he cried, "you have escaped! Aha! and do you dare to +come on my track! This time I will make sure of you." + +He gnashed his teeth in his fury, and, snatching a rifle from one of +his Indians who were near him, aimed it at Claude, and pulled the +trigger. + +But the trigger clicked, and that was all. It was not loaded. With +another curse Cazeneau dashed the rifle to the ground, and turned +towards the other Indian. All this had been the work of a moment. The +next moment Claude sprang forward with drawn sword. + +"Villain," he cried, "and assassin! draw, and fight like a man!" + +At these words Cazeneau was forced to turn, without having had time +to get the other Indian's rifle, for Claude was close to him, and the +glittering steel flashed before his eyes. He drew his sword, and +retreating backward, put himself on guard. + +"Seize this fellow!" he cried to his Indians; "seize him! In the name +of your great father, the King of France, seize him, I tell you!" + +The Indians looked forward. There, behind Claude, they saw six other +Indians--their own friends. They shook their heads. + +"Too many," said they. + +"You fellows!" cried Cazeneau to Claude's Indians, "I am the officer +of your great father, the King of France. This man is a traitor. I +order you to seize him, in the king's name." + +Claude's Indians stood there motionless. They did not seem to +understand. + +All this time Cazeneau was keeping up a defence, and parrying +Claude's attack. He was a skilful swordsman, and he wished to take +Claude alive if possible, rather than to fight with him. So he tried +once more. He supposed that Claude's Indians did not understand. He +therefore told his Indians to tell the others in their language what +was wanted. At this the two walked over to the six, and began +talking. Caseneau watched them earnestly. He saw, to his infinite +rage, that his words had no effect whatever on Claude's Indians. + +"Coward," cried Claude, "coward and villain! you must fight. My +Indians are faithful to me. You hate to fight,--you are afraid,--but +you must, or I will beat you to death with the blade of my sword." + +At this Cazeneau turned purple with rage. He saw how it was. He +determined to show this colonist all his skill, and wound him, and +still take him alive. So, with a curse, he rushed upon Claude. But +his own excitement interfered with that display of skill which he +intended to show; and Claude, who had regained his coolness, had the +advantage in this respect. + +A few strokes showed Cazeneau that he had found his master. But this +discovery only added to his rage. He determined to bring the contest +to a speedy issue. With this intent he lunged forward with a deadly +thrust. But the thrust was turned aside, and the next instant +Claude's sword passed through the body of Cazeneau. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +REUNION. + + +The wounded man fell to the ground, and Claude, dropping his sword, +sank on his knees beside him. In that one instant all his anger and +his hate fled away. It was no longer Cazeneau, his mortal enemy, whom +he saw, but his fellow-creature, laid low by his hand. The thought +sent a quiver through every nerve, and it was with no ordinary +emotion that Claude sought to relieve his fallen enemy. But Cazeneau +was unchanged in his implacable hate; or, if possible, he was even +more bitter and more malignant now, since he had thus been beaten. + +"Away!" he cried, in a faint voice. "Away! Touch me not. Do not exult +yet, Montresor. You think you have--avenged--your cursed father--and +your mother. Do not exult too soon; at least you are--a pauper--a +pauper--a pauper! Away! My own people--will care for me." + +Claude rose at this, and motioned to Cazeneau's Indians. They came +up. One of them examined the wound. He then looked up at Claude, and +solemnly shook his head. + +"May Heaven have mercy on his soul!" murmured Claude. "I thank Heaven +that I do not know all the bitter wrong that he has done to my +parents. What he has done to me I forgive." + +Then, by a sudden impulse, he bent down over the fallen man. +"Cazeneau," said he, "you're a dying man. You have something on your +conscience now. What you have done to me I forgive. May others whom +you have injured do the same." + +At this magnanimous speech Cazeneau rolled his glaring eyes furiously +towards the young man, and then, supplied with a sudden spasmodic +strength by his own passion, he cried out, with bitter oaths and +execrations,-- + +"Curse you! you and all your race!" + +He raised himself slightly as he said this. The next instant he fell +back, senseless. For a moment Claude stood looking at the lifeless +form, undecided what to do. Should he remain here longer? If Cazeneau +should revive, it would only be to curse him; if he died, he could do +nothing. Would it not be better to hurry forward after the rest of +the party, who could not be very far away? If so, he could send back +the priest, who would come in time either for life or death. The +moment that he thought of this he decided that he would hurry forward +for the priest. He then explained to his guide what he wished, and +asked the Indians of Cazeneau how far the rest of the party were. +They could speak but very little French, but managed to make Claude +understand that they were not far. To his Indian they said more, and +he told his employer. What they said was to this effect: that on this +morning Cazeneau had left the party with these two Indians, for the +sake of a little recreation in hunting. The rest had gone forward, +with the understanding that they should not go more than two or three +hours. Then they were to halt and wait. Cazeneau was just about to go +after them as Claude came up. + + +[Illustration: "Curse You And All Your Race."] + + +This information showed Claude that the rest of the party were within +easy distance, and that the priest could be reached and sent back +before evening. Accordingly he hesitated no longer, but set forth at +once in the greatest haste. + +The thought that Mimi was so near inspired Claude with fresh energy. +Although he had been on the tramp all day, and without +rest,--although he had received a severe and unparalleled shock in +the terrible fate of Cazeneau,--yet the thought of Mimi had +sufficient power over him to chase away the gloom that for a time had +fallen over his soul. It was enough to him now that a priest was +within reach. Upon that priest he could throw all the responsibility +which arose out of the situation of his enemy. These were the +thoughts that animated him, and urged him forward. + +The Indians of Cazeneau had made him understand that they were only a +few hours ahead; but Claude thought that they were even nearer. He +thought it unlikely that Cazeneau would let them go very far, and +supposed that he had ordered the other Indians to go slowly, and halt +after about three or four miles. He therefore confidently expected to +come up with them after traversing about that distance. + +With this belief he urged on his attendants, and himself put forth +all his powers, until at length, after nearly two hours, he was +compelled to slacken his speed. This showed that they were not so +near as he had expected; yet still he believed that they were just +ahead, and that he would come up with them every moment. + +Thus his mind was kept upon a constant strain, and he was always on +the lookout, watching both with eyes and ears either to see some sign +of them, or to hear them as they went on before him. And this +constant strain of mind and of sense, and this sustained attitude of +expectation, made the way seem less, and the time seem short; and +thus, though there was a certain disappointment, yet still the hope +of seeing them every next minute kept up his spirits and his +energies. Thus he went on, like one who pursues an _ignis fatuus_, +until at length the light of day faded out, and the shades of night +settled down over the forest. + +He would certainly have thought that he had missed the way, had it +not been for one fact; and that was, that the track of the party whom +he was pursuing was as plain as ever, and quite fresh, showing that +they had passed over it this very day. The Indians with him were all +certain of this. It showed him that however fast he had gone, they +had been going yet faster, and that all his eagerness to catch up +with them had not been greater than their eagerness to advance. Why +was this? Suddenly the whole truth flashed upon his mind. + +The priest had unexpectedly shaken off Cazeneau. He had evidently +resolved to try to escape. His strange influence over the Indians +had, no doubt, enabled him to make them his accomplices. With the +hope, therefore, of shaking off Cazeneau, he had hurried on as fast +as possible. + +Still there was one thing, and that was, that they would have to +bring up somewhere. It was more than probable that the priest would +try to reach Canso. In that case Claude had only to keep on his +track, and he would get to that place not very long after him; +sufficiently soon, at any rate, to prevent missing him. As to +Louisbourg, if the priest should go there, he also could go there, +and with impunity now, since his enemy was no more. As for the +unhappy Cazeneau, he found himself no longer able to send him the +priest; but he did not feel himself to blame for that, and could only +hope that he might reach the priest before it should be altogether +too late. + +A slight repast that night, which was made from some fragments which +he had carried in his pocket, a few hours' sleep, and another slight +repast on the following morning, made from an early bird which he had +shot when it was on its way to get its worm, served to prepare him +for the journey before him. + +The Indians informed him that the Strait of Canso was now not more +than a day and a half distant. The news was most welcome to Claude. +The Strait of Canso seemed like a place where the priest would be +compelled to make some sort of a halt, either while waiting for a +chance to cross or while making a detour to get to Canso. For his +part, he would have one great advantage, and that was, that he would +not be compelled to think about his course. All that he had to do was +to follow the track before him as rapidly and as perseveringly as +possible. + +All that day Claude hurried onward without stopping to halt, being +sustained by his own burning impatience, and also by that same hope +which had supported him on the preceding day. But it was, as before, +like the pursuit of an _ignis fatuus_, and ever the objects of his +pursuit seemed to elude him. + +At length, towards the close of the day, they reached a river, and +the trail ran along by its side for miles, sometimes leaving it, and +again returning to it. The path was broad, the woods were free from +underbrush, and more open than usual. + +Suddenly the guide stopped and looked forward, with the instinct of +his Indian caution. But Claude had one idea only in his mind, and +knowing well that there could be no enemy now, since Cazeneau was out +of the way, he hurried onward. Some moving figures attracted his +gaze. Then he saw horses, and some men and women. Then he emerged +from the trees, bursting forth at a run into an open place which lay +upon the river bank. One glance was sufficient. It was the priest and +his party. With a cry of joy he rushed forward. The others saw him +coming. The priest turned in amazement; for he had no idea that +Claude was so near. Before he could speak a word, however, the young +man had flung himself into his arms, and the priest returned his +embrace with equal warmth. Claude then turned to Mimi, who was +standing near, and in the rapture of that meeting was on the point of +catching her in his arms also; but Mimi saw the movement, and +retreated shyly, while a mantling blush over her lovely features +showed both joy and confusion. So Claude had to content himself with +taking her hand, which he seized in both of his, and held as though +he would never let go. + +After these first greetings, there followed a torrent of questions +from both sides. The priest's story was but a short one. On the day +when Cazeneau had left them, he had gone on a short hunting +excursion, simply for the sake of relieving the monotony of the long +tramp. He had charged the Indians not to go farther than two hours +ahead. His intention was to make a circuit, and join them by evening. +But the Indians were altogether under the influence of Pere Michel, +and were willing to do anything that he wished. The "Great +Father,"--the French king,--with whom Cazeneau thought he could +overawe them, was in truth a very shadowy and unsubstantial +personage. But Pere Michel was one whom they knew, and for some +reason regarded with boundless veneration. When, therefore, he +proposed to them to go on, they at once acceded. For Pere Michel +caught at this unexpected opportunity to escape, which was thus +presented, and at once set forth at the utmost possible speed. He +travelled all that day and far into the night, until he thought that +a sufficient distance had been put between himself and Cazeneau to +prevent capture. He would have gone much farther on this day had it +not been for Mimi, who, already fatigued by her long journey, was +unable to endure this increased exertion, and after trying in vain to +keep up, was compelled to rest. They had been encamping here for +about three hours, and were already deliberating about a night +journey, when Claude came up. + +The time had been spent in constructing a sort of litter, which the +priest intended to sling between two horses, hoping by this means to +take Mimi onward with less fatigue. He had made up his mind, as +Claude indeed had suspected, to make for Canso, so as to put himself +out of the reach of Cazeneau. + +Claude then told the priest his story, to which the latter listened +with deep emotion. He had not anticipated anything like this. Amazed +as he had been at the sudden appearance of Claude, he had thought +that by some happy accident the young man had eluded Cazeneau, and he +now learned how it really was. + +For some time he said not a single word, and indeed there was nothing +that he could say. He knew well that Claude had been deeply and +foully wronged by Cazeneau, and he knew also that this last act was +hardly to be considered as anything else than the act of Cazeneau +himself, who first attacked Claude, and forced him to fight. + +But there still remained to be considered what might now be done. +Claude's first thought was the one which had been in his mind during +the past day; that is to say, he still thought of sending the priest +back to Cazeneau, without thinking of the distance, and the time that +now lay between. His excitement had prevented him from taking this +into consideration. The priest, however, at once reminded him of it. + +"I do not see," said he, "what I can do. You forget how long it is +since you left him. He must be dead and buried by this time. Even if +he should linger longer than you expected, I could not hope to reach +that place in time to do anything, not even to bury him. It is a good +two days' journey from here to there. It is two days since you left +him. It would take two days more for me to reach him. That makes four +days. By that time, if he is dead, he would already be buried; and if +he is living, he would be conveyed by the Indians to some place of +rest and shelter. + +"As long as I thought that Cazeneau was pursuing us," continued the +priest, "I tried to advance as rapidly as possible, and intended to +go to Canso, where I should be safe from him. But now that he can +trouble us no more, there is no reason why we should not go to +Louisbourg. That will be better for Mimi, and it will also suit my +views better. You, too, may as well go there, since you will be able +to carry out your own plans, whatever they are, from that place +better than from any other." + +The result of this conversation was, that they decided to go to +Louisbourg. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +AMONG FRIENDS. + + +In order to make their escape the more certain, the priest had +carried off the horse which Cazeneau had used, so that now Claude was +no more obliged to go on foot. Mimi no longer complained of fatigue, +but was able to bear up with the fatigues of the rest of the journey +in a wonderful way. Claude did not seem inclined to make much use of +the spare horse, for he walked much of the way at Mimi's side, and +where there was not room, he walked at her horse's head. + +The remainder of the journey occupied about four days, and it was +very much like what it had been; that is, a track through the woods, +sometimes rough, sometimes smooth. The whole track showed marks of +constant use, which the priest explained to Claude as being caused by +droves of cattle, which were constantly being sent from Grand Pre to +Louisbourg, where they fetched a handsome price. The Indian trails in +other places were far rougher and narrower, besides being interrupted +by fallen trees. The only difficulty that they had to encounter was +in crossing the Strait of Canso; but after following the shore for a +few miles, they came to a place where there was a barge, used to +transport cattle. Two or three French fishermen lived here, and they +took the whole party over to the opposite side. After this they +continued their journey. + +That journey seemed to Claude altogether too short. Each day passed +away too rapidly. Wandering by the side of Mimi through the fragrant +forests, under the clear sky, listening to her gentle voice, and +catching the sweet smile of her innocent face, it seemed to him as +though he would like to go on this way forever. A cloud of sadness +rested on her gentle brow, which made her somewhat unlike the +sprightly girl of the schooner, and more like the despairing maid +whom he had rescued on the raft. + +But there was reason for this sadness. Mimi was a fond and loving +daughter. She had chosen to follow her father across the ocean, when +she might have lived at home in comfort; and the death of that father +had been a terrible blow. For some time the blow had been alleviated +by the terrors which she felt about Cazeneau and his designs. But +now, since he and his designs were no more to be thought of, the +sorrow of her bereavement returned. + +Still, she was not without consolation, and even joy. It was joy to +her to have escaped from the man and from the danger that she +dreaded. It was also joy to her to find herself once more in company +with Claude, in whom she had all along taken a tender interest. Until +she heard his story from his own lips she had not had any idea that +he had been the victim of Cazeneau. She had supposed that he was in +the schooner all the time, and had wondered why he did not make his +appearance. And her anxiety about her father, and grief over his +death, prevented her from dwelling much upon this. + +At length they came in sight of the sea. The trees here were small, +stunted, and scrubby; the soil was poor, the grass coarse and +interspersed with moss and stones. In many places it was boggy, while +in others it was rocky. Their path ran along the shore for some +miles, and then entered the woods. For some distance farther they +went on, and then emerged into an open country, where they saw before +them the goal of their long journey. + +Open fields lay before them, with houses and barns. Farther on there +lay a beautiful harbor, about five or six miles long and one mile +wide, with a narrow entrance into the outer sea, and an island which +commanded the entrance. Upon this island, and also on one side of the +entrance, were batteries, while on the side of the harbor on which +they were standing, and about two miles away, was another battery, +larger than either of these. At the farthest end of the harbor were +small houses of farmers or fishermen, with barns and cultivated +fields. In the harbor were some schooners and small fishing vessels, +and two large frigates. + +But it was upon the end of the harbor nearest to themselves that +their eyes turned with the most pleasure. Here Louisbourg stood, its +walls and spires rising before them, and the flag of France floating +from the citadel. The town was about half a mile long, surrounded by +a stockade and occasional batteries. Upon the highest point the +citadel stood, with the guns peeping over the parapet. The path here +entered a road, which ran towards the town; and now, going to this +road, they went on, and soon reached the gate. + +On entering the gate, they were stopped and questioned; but the +priest, who seemed to be known, easily satisfied his examiners, and +they were allowed to go on. They went along a wide street, which, +however, was unpaved, and lined on each side with houses of +unpretending appearance. Most of them were built of wood, some of +logs, one or two of stone. All were of small size, with small doors +and windows, and huge, stumpy chimneys. The street was straight, and +led to the citadel, in which was the governor's residence. Other +streets crossed at right angles with much regularity. There were a +few shops, but not many. Most of these were lower down, near the +water, and were of that class to which the soldiers and sailors +resorted. Outside the citadel was a large church, built of undressed +stone, and without any pretensions to architectural beauty. Beyond +this was the entrance to the citadel. This place was on the crest of +the hill, and was surrounded by a dry ditch and a wall. A drawbridge +led across the ditch to the gate. On reaching this place the party +had to stop, and the priest sent in his name to the governor or +commandant. After waiting some time, a message came to admit them. +Thereupon they all passed through, and found themselves inside the +citadel. + +They found this to be an irregular space, about two hundred feet in +length and width, surrounded by walls, under which were arched cells, +that were used for storage or magazines, and might also serve as +casemates in time of siege. There were barracks at one end, and at +the other the governor's residence, built of stone. Upon the parade +troops were exercising, and in front of the barracks a band was +playing. The whole scene was thus one of much animation; indeed, it +seemed very much so to the eyes of these wanderers, so long +accustomed to the solitude of the sea, or of the primeval forest. +However, they did not wait to gaze upon the scene, but went on at +once, without delay, to the commandant. + +The commandant--Monsieur Auguste de Florian--received them with much +politeness. He was a man of apparently about forty years of age, +medium stature, and good-natured face, without any particular sign of +character or talent in his general expression. This was the man whom +Cazeneau was to succeed, whose arrival he had been expecting for a +long time. He received the new comers politely, and, after having +heard the priest's account of Mimi,--who she was, and how he had +found her,--he at once sent for his wife, who took her to her own +apartments, and informed her that this must be her home as long as +she was at Louisbourg. + +The commandant now questioned the priest more particularly about the +Arethuse. Pere Michel left the narration to Claude. He had been +introduced under the name of M. Motier, and did not choose to say +anything about his real name and rank, for fear that it might lead +him into fresh difficulties. So Claude gave an account of the meeting +between the schooner and the raft, and also told all that he knew +about the fate of the Arethuse. The priest added something more that +he had learned, and informed the commandant that he could learn all +the rest from Mimi. + +The governor's polite attention did not end with this visit. He at +once set about procuring a place where Claude might stay, and would +have done the same kind office to Pere Michel, had not the priest +declined. He had a place where he could stay with one of the priests +of the town, who was a friend; and besides, he intended to carry on +the duties of his sacred office. Claude, therefore, was compelled to +separate himself from the good priest, who, however, assured him that +he would see him often. Before evening he found himself in +comfortable quarters in the house of the naval storekeeper, who +received him with the utmost cordiality as the friend of the +commandant. + +The next day Claude saw Pere Michel. He seemed troubled in mind, and, +after some questions, informed him that he had come all the way to +Louisbourg for the express purpose of getting some letters which he +had been expecting from France. They should have been here by this +time, but had not come, and he was afraid that they had been sent out +in the Arethuse. If so, there might be endless trouble and confusion, +since it would take too long altogether to write again and receive +answers. It was a business of infinite importance to himself and to +others; and Pere Michel, who had never before, since Claude had known +him, lost his serenity, now appeared quite broken down by +disappointment. + +His present purpose was to go back and see about the burial of +Cazeneau; but he would wait for another week, partly for the sake of +rest, and partly to wait until Cazeneau's Indians had been heard +from. He had sent out two of the Indians who had come with him to +make inquiries; and when they returned, he would go. He was also +waiting in the hope that another ship might arrive. There was some +talk of a frigate which was to bring out some sappers and engineers +for the works. It was the Grand Monarque. She had not come as yet, +nor had she left by last advices; but still she was liable to leave +at any moment. + +"Still," said the priest, "it is useless to expect anything or to +hope for anything. The king is weak. He is nothing. How many years +has he been a _roi faineant_? Fleury was a fit minister for such a +king. Weak, bigoted, conceited, Fleury had only one policy, and that +was, to keep things quiet, and not suffer any change. If wrongs had +been done, he refused to right them. Fleury has been a curse to +France. But since his death his successors may be even worse. The +state of France is hopeless. The country is overwhelmed with debt, +and is in the hands of unprincipled vagabonds. The king has said that +he would govern without ministers; but that only means that he will +allow himself to be swayed by favorites. Fleury has gone, and in his +place there comes--who? Why, the Duchesse de Chateauroux. She is now +the minister of France." + +The priest spoke with indescribable bitterness; so much so, indeed, +that Claude was amazed. + +"The latest news," continued Pere Michel, "is, that England is going +to send an army to assist Austria. The queen, Maria Theresa, will now +be able to turn the scales against France. This means war, and the +declaration must follow soon. Well, poor old Fleury kept out of war +with England till he died. But that was Walpole's doing, perhaps. +They were wonderful friends; and perhaps it was just as well. But +this new ministry--this woman and her friends--they will make a +change for France; and I only hope, while they are reversing Fleury's +policy in some things, they'll do it in others. + +"France," continued Pere Michel, in a gloomy tone, "France is rotten +to the core--all France, both at home and abroad. Why, even out here +the fatal system reigns. This commandant," he went on, dropping his +voice, "is as deeply implicated as any of them. He was appointed by a +court favorite; so was Cazeneau. He came out with the intention of +making his fortune, not for the sake of building up a French empire +in America. + +"It's no use. France can't build up an empire here. The English will +get America. They come out as a people, and settle in the forest; but +we come out as officials, to make money out of our country. Already +the English are millions, and we are thousands. What chance is there +for us? Some day an English army will come and drive us out of Ile +Royale, and out of Canada, as they've already driven us out of +Acadie. Our own people are discouraged; and, though they love France, +yet they feel less oppressed under English rule. Can there be a worse +commentary on French rule than that? + +"And you, my son," continued the priest, in a milder tone, but one +which was equally earnest, "don't think of going to France. You can +do nothing there. It would require the expenditure of a fortune in +bribery to get to the ears of those who surround the king; and then +there would be no hope of obtaining justice from them. All are +interested in letting things remain as they were. The wrong done was +committed years ago. The estates have passed into other hands, and +from one owner to another. The present holders are all-powerful at +court; and if you wore to go there, you would only wear out your +youth, and accomplish nothing." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +LOUISBOURG. + + +There was a little _beau monde_ at Louisbourg, which, as might be +expected, was quite gay, since it was French. At the head stood, of +course; the commandant and his lady; then came the military officers +with their ladies, and the naval officers without their ladies, +together with the unmarried officers of both services. As the +gentlemen far outnumbered the ladies, the latter were always in great +demand; so that the ladies of the civilians, though of a decidedly +inferior grade, were objects of attention and of homage. This being +the case, it will readily be perceived what an effect was produced +upon the _beau monde_ at Louisbourg by the advent of such a bright, +particular star as Mimi. Young, beautiful, accomplished, she also +added the charms of rank, and title, and supposed wealth. The Count +de Laborde had been prominent at court, and his name was well known. +His daughter was therefore looked upon as one of the greatest +heiresses of France, and there was not a young officer at Louisbourg +who did not inwardly vow to strive to win so dazzling a prize. + +She would at once have been compelled to undergo a round of the most +exhaustive festivities, had it not been for one thing--she was in +mourning. Her bereavement had been severe, and was so recent that all +thoughts of gayety were out of the question. This fact lessened the +chances which the gallant French cavaliers might otherwise have had, +but in no respect lessened their devotion. Beauty in distress is +always a touching and a resistless object to every chivalrous heart; +and here the beauty was exquisite, and the distress was undeniably +great. + +The commandant and his lady had appropriated Mimi from the first, and +Mimi congratulated herself on having found a home so easily. It was +pleasant to her, after her recent imprisonment, to be among people +who looked up to her with respectful and affectionate esteem. +Monsieur de Florian may not have been one of the best of men; indeed, +it was said that he had been diligently feathering his nest at the +expense of the government ever since he had been in Louisbourg; but +in spite of that, he was a kindhearted man, while his wife was a +kind-hearted woman, and one, too, who was full of tact and delicacy. +Mimi's position, therefore, was as pleasant as it could be, under the +circumstances. + +After one or two days had passed, Claude began to be aware of the +fact that life in Louisbourg was much less pleasant than life on the +road. There he was all day long close beside Mimi, or at her horse's +bridle, with confidential chat about a thousand things, with eloquent +nothings, and shy glances, and tender little attentions, and delicate +services. Here, however, it was all different. All this had come to +an end. The difficulty now was, to see Mimi at all. It is true there +was no lack of friendliness on the part of the commandant, or of his +good lady; but then he was only one among many, who all were received +with the same genial welcome by this genial and polished pair. The +chivalry of Louisbourg crowded to do homage to the beautiful +stranger, and the position of Claude did not seem to be at all more +favorable than that of the youngest cadet in the service. + +His obscurity now troubled Claude greatly. He found himself quite +insignificant in Louisbourg. If he had possessed the smallest +military rank, he would have been of more consequence. He thought of +coming out in his true name, as the Count de Montresor, but was +deterred by the thought of the troubles into which he had already +fallen by the discovery of his name. How much of that arrest was due +to the ill will of Cazeneau, and how much to the actual dangers +besetting him as a Montresor, he could not know. He saw plainly +enough that the declaration of his name and rank might lead to a new +arrest at the hands of this commandant, in which case escape could +hardly be thought of. He saw that it was better far for him to be +insignificant, yet free, than to be the highest personage in +Louisbourg, and liable to be flung into a dungeon. His ignorance of +French affairs, and of the actual history of his family, made him +cautious; so that he resolved not to mention the truth about himself +to any one. Under all these circumstances, Claude saw no other +resource but to endure as best he could the unpleasantness of his +personal situation, and live in the hope that in the course of time +some change might take place by which he could be brought into closer +connection with Mimi. + +Fortunately for him, an opportunity of seeing Mimi occurred before he +had gone too deep down into despondency. He went up one day to the +citadel, about a week after he had come to Louisbourg. Mimi was at +the window, and as he came she saw him, and ran to the door. Her face +was radiant with smiles. + +"O, I am so glad," she said, "that you have come! I did so want to +see you, to ask you about something!" + +"I never see you alone now," said Claude, sadly, holding her hand as +though unwilling to relinquish it. + +"No," said Mimi, with a slight flush, gently withdrawing her hand, "I +am never alone, and there are so many callers; but M. Florian has +gone out, taking the madame, on an affair of some importance; and so, +you see, we can talk without interruption." + +"Especially if we walk over into the garden," said Claude. + +Mimi assented, and the two walked into the garden that was on the +west side of the residence, and for some time neither of them said a +word. The trees had just come into leaf; for the season is late in +this climate, but the delay is made good by the rapid growth of +vegetation after it has once started; and now the leaves were +bursting forth in glorious richness and profusion, some more advanced +than others, and exhibiting every stage of development. The lilacs, +above all, were conspicuous for beauty; for they were covered with +blossoms, with the perfume of which the air was loaded. + +"I never see you now," said Claude, at length. + +"No," said Mimi, sadly. + +"It is not as it used to be," said Claude, with a mournful smile, +"when I walked by your side day after day." + +Mimi sighed, and said nothing. + +"It is different with you," said Claude; "you are the centre of +universal admiration, and everybody pays you attention. The time +never passes heavily with you; but think of me--miserable, obscure, +friendless!" + +Mimi turned, and looked at him with such a piteous face that Claude +stopped short. Her eyes were fixed on his with tender melancholy and +reproach. They were filled with tears. + +"And do you really believe that?" she said--"that the time never +passes heavily with me? It has been a sad time ever since I came +here. Think how short a time it is since poor, dear papa left me! Do +you think I can have the heart for much enjoyment?" + +"Forgive me," said Claude, deeply moved; "I had forgotten; I did not +think what I was saying; I was too selfish." + +"That is true," said Mimi. "While you were suffering from loneliness, +you should have thought that I, too, was suffering, even in the +midst of the crowd. But what are they all to me? They are all +strangers. It is my friends that I want to see; and you are away, and +the good Pere Michel never comes!" + +"Were you lonely on the road?" asked Claude. + +"Never," said Mimi, innocently, "after you came." + +As she said this, a flush passed over her lovely face, and she looked +away confused. Claude seized her hand, and pressed it to his lips. +They then walked on in silence for some time. At last Claude spoke +again. + +"The ship will not leave for six weeks. If I were alone, I think I +should go back to Boston. But if you go to France, I shall go, too. +Have you ever thought of what you will do when you get there?" + +"I suppose I shall have to go to France," said Mimi; "but why should +you think of going to Boston? Are you not going on your family +business?" + +"I am not," said Claude. "I am only going because you are going. As +to my family business, I have forgotten all about it; and, indeed, I +very much doubt whether I could do anything at all. I do not even +know how I am to begin. But I wish to see you safe and happy among +your friends." + +Mimi looked at him in sad surprise. + +"I do not know whether I have any friends or not," said she. "I have +only one relative, whom I have never seen. I had intended to go to +her. I do not know what I shall do. If this aunt is willing to take +me, I shall live with her; but she is not very rich, and I may be a +burden." + +"A burden!" said Claude; "that is impossible! And besides, such a +great heiress as you will be welcome wherever you go." + +He spoke this with a touch of bitterness in his voice; for Mimi's +supposed possessions seemed to him to be the chief barrier between +himself and her. + +"A great heiress!" said Mimi, sadly. "I don't know what put that into +your head. Unfortunately, as far as I know, I have nothing. My papa +sold all his estates, and had all his money on board the Arethuse. It +was all lost in the ship, and though I was an heiress when I left +home, I shall go back nothing better than a beggar, to beg a home +from my unknown aunt. Or," she continued, "if my aunt shows no +affection, it is my intention to go back to the convent of St. +Cecilia, where I was educated, and I know they will be glad to have +me; and I could not find a better home for the rest of my life than +among those dear sisters who love me so well." + +"O, Mimi," he cried, "O, what joy it is to hear that you are a +beggar! Mimi, Mimi! I have always felt that you were far above +me--too far for me to raise my thoughts to you. Mimi, you are a +beggar, and not an heiress! You must not go to France. I will not go. +Let us remain together. I can be more to you than any friend. Come +with me. Be mine. O, let me spend my life in trying to show you how I +love you!" + +He spoke these words quickly, feverishly, and passionately, seizing +her hand in both of his. He had never called her before by her name; +but now he called her by it over and over, with loving intonations. +Mimi had hardly been prepared for this; but though unprepared, she +was not offended. On the contrary, she looked up at him with a face +that told him more than words could convey. He could not help reading +its eloquent meaning. Her glance penetrated to his heart--her soul +spoke to his. He caught her in his arms, and little Mimi leaned her +head on his breast and wept. + +But from this dream of hope and happiness they were destined to have +a sudden and very rude awakening. There was a sound in the shrubbery +behind them, and a voice said, in a low, cautious tone,-- + +"H-s-s-t!" + +At this they both started, and turned. It was the Pere Michel. + +Both started as they saw him, partly from surprise, and partly, also, +from the shock which they felt at the expression of his face. He was +pale and agitated, and the calmness and self-control which usually +characterized him had departed. + +"My dear friend," said Claude, hurriedly, turning towards him and +seizing his hand, "what is the matter? Are you not well? Has anything +happened? You are agitated. What is the matter?" + +"The very worst," said Pere Michel--"M. de Cazeneau!" + +"What of him? Why, he is dead!" + +"Dead? No; he is alive. Worse--he is here--here--in Louisbourg. I +have just seen him!" + +"What!" cried Claude, starting back, "M. de Cazeneau alive, and here +in Louisbourg! How is that possible?" + +"I don't know," said the priest. "I only know this, that I have just +seen him!" + +"Seen him?" + +"Yes." + +"Where? You must be mistaken." + +"No, no," said the priest, hurriedly. "I know him--only too well. I +saw him at the Ordnance. He has just arrived. He was brought here by +Indians, on a litter. The commandant is even now with him. I saw him +go in. I hurried here, for I knew that you were here, to tell you to +fly. Fly then, at once, and for your life. I can get you away now, if +you fly at once." + +"Fly?" repeated Claude, casting a glance at Mimi. + +"Yes, fly!" cried the priest, in earnest tones. "Don't think of her, +--or, rather, do you, Mimi, if you value his life, urge him, entreat +him, pray him to fly. He is lost if he stays. One moment more may +destroy him." + +Mimi turned as pale as death. Her lips parted. She would have spoken, +but could say nothing. + +"Come," cried the priest, "come, hasten, fly! It may be only for a +few weeks--a few weeks only--think of that. There is more at stake +than you imagine. Boy, you know not what you are risking--not your +own life, but the lives of others; the honor of your family; the hope +of the final redemption of your race. Haste--fly, fly!" + +The priest spoke in tones of feverish impetuosity. At these words +Claude stood thunder-struck. It seemed as though this priest knew +something about his family. What did he know? How could he allude to +the honor of that family, and the hope of its redemption? + +"O, fly! O, fly! Haste!" cried Mimi, who had at last found her voice. +"Don't think of me. Fly--save yourself, before it's too late." + +"What! and leave you at his mercy?" said Claude. + +"O, don't think of me," cried Mimi; "save yourself." + +"Haste--come," cried the priest; "it is already too late. You have +wasted precious moments." + +"I cannot," cried Claude, as he looked at Mimi, who stood in an +attitude of despair. + +"Then you are lost," groaned the priest, in a voice of bitterest +grief. + + +[Illustration: "Mimi Suddenly Caught Claude By The Arm."] + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE CAPTIVE AND THE CAPTORS. + + +Further conversation was now prevented by the approach of a company +of soldiers, headed by the commandant. Mimi stood as if rooted to the +spot, and then suddenly caught Claude by the arm, as though by her +weak strength she could save him from the fate which was impending +over him; but the priest interposed, and gently drew her away. + +The soldiers halted at the entrance to the garden, and the commandant +came forward. His face was clouded and somewhat stern, and every +particle of his old friendliness seemed to have departed. + +"I regret, monsieur," said he, "the unpleasant necessity which forces +me to arrest you; but, had I known anything about your crime, you +would have been put under arrest before you had enjoyed my +hospitality." + +"O, monsieur!" interrupted Mimi. + +The commandant turned, and said, severely, "I trust that the Countess +de Laborde will see the impropriety of her presence here. Monsieur +L'Abbe, will you give the countess your arm into the house?" + +Pere Michel, at this, led Mimi away. One parting look she threw upon +Claude, full of utter despair, and then, leaning upon the arm of the +priest, walked slowly in. + +Claude said not a word in reply to the address of the commandant. He +knew too well that under present circumstances words would be utterly +useless. If Cazeneau was indeed alive, and now in Louisbourg, then +there could be no hope for himself. If the former charges which led +to his arrest should be insufficient to condemn him, his attack upon +Cazeneau would afford sufficient cause to his enemy to glut his +vengeance. + +The soldiers took him in charge, and he was marched away across the +parade to the prison. This was a stone building, one story in height, +with small grated windows, and stout oaken door studded with iron +nails. Inside there were two rooms, one on each side of the entrance. +These rooms were low, and the floor, which was laid on the earth, was +composed of boards, which were decayed and moulded with damp. The +ceiling was low, and the light but scanty. A stout table and stool +formed the only furniture, while a bundle of mouldy straw in one +corner was evidently intended to be his bed. Into this place Claude +entered; the door was fastened, and he was left alone. + +On finding himself alone in this place, he sat upon the stool, and +for some time his thoughts were scarcely of a coherent kind. It was +not easy for him to understand or realize his position, such a short +interval had elapsed since he was enjoying the sweets of an interview +with Mimi. The transition had been sudden and terrible. It had cast +him down from the highest happiness to the lowest misery. A few +moments ago, and all was bright hope; now all was black despair. +Indeed, his present situation had an additional gloom from the very +happiness which he had recently enjoyed, and in direct proportion to +it. Had it not been for that last interview, he would not have known +what he had lost. + +Hope for himself there was none. Even under ordinary circumstances, +there could hardly have been any chance of his escape; but now, after +Cazeneau had so nearly lost his life, there could be nothing in store +for him but sure and speedy death. He saw that he would most +undoubtedly be tried, condemned, and executed here in Louisbourg, and +that there was not the slightest hope that he would be sent to France +for his trial. + +Not long after Claude had been thrust into his prison, a party +entered the citadel, bearing with them a litter, upon which reclined +the form of a feeble and suffering man. It was Cazeneau. The wound +which Claude had given him had not been fatal, after all; and he had +recovered sufficiently to endure a long journey in this way; yet it +had been a severe one, and had made great ravages in him. He appeared +many years older. Formerly, he had not looked over forty; now he +looked at least as old as Pere Michel. His face was wan; his +complexion a grayish pallor; his frame was emaciated and weak. As he +was brought into the citadel, the commandant came out from his +residence to meet him, accompanied by some servants, and by these the +suffering man was borne into the house. + +"All is ready, my dear count," said the commandant. "You will feel +much better after you have some rest of the proper kind." + +"But have you arrested him?" asked Cazeneau, earnestly. + +"I have; he is safe now in prison." + +"Very good. And now, Monsieur Le Commandant, if you will have the +kindness to send me to my room--" + +"Monsieur Le Commandant, you reign here now," said the other. "My +authority is over since you have come, and you have only to give your +orders." + +"At any rate, _mon ami_, you must remain in power till I get some +rest and sleep," said Cazeneau. + +Rest, food, and, above all, a good night's sleep, had a very +favorable effect upon Cazeneau, and on the following morning, when +the commandant waited on him, he congratulated him on the improvement +in his appearance. Cazeneau acknowledged that he felt better, and +made very pointed inquiries about Mimi, which led to the recital of +the circumstances of Claude's arrest in Mimi's presence. Whatever +impression this may have made upon the hearer, he did not show it, +but preserved an unchanged demeanor. + +A conversation of a general nature now followed, turning chiefly upon +affairs in France. + +"You had a long voyage," remarked the commandant. + +"Yes; and an unpleasant one. We left in March, but it seems longer +than that; for it was in February that I left Versailles, only a +little while after the death of his eminence." + +"I fancy there will be a great change now in the policy of the +government." + +"O, of course. The peace policy is over. War with England must be. +The king professes now to do like his predecessor, and govern without +a minister; but we all know what that means. To do without a minister +is one thing for Louis Quatorze, but another thing altogether for +Louis Quinze. The Duchesse de Chateauroux will be minister--for the +present. Then we have D'Aguesseau, D'Argenson, and Maurepas. O, +there'll be war at once. I dare say it has already been declared. At +any rate, it's best to act on that principle." + +"Well, as to that, monsieur, we generally do act on that principle +out here. But Fleury was a wonderful old man." + +"Yes; but he died too soon." + +"Too soon! What, at the age of ninety?" + +"O, well, I meant too soon for me. Had he died ten years ago, or had +he lived two years longer, I should not have come out here." + +"I did not know that it was a matter of regret to monsieur." + +"Regret?" said Cazeneau, in a querulous tone--"regret? Monsieur, one +does not leave a place like Versailles for a place like Louisbourg +without regrets." + +"True," said the other, who saw that it was a sore subject. + +"With Fleury I had influence; but with the present company at +Versailles, it is--well, different; and I am better here. Out of +sight, out of mind. It was one of Fleury's last acts--this +appointment. I solicited it, for certain reasons; chiefly because I +saw that he could not last long. Well, they'll have enough to think +of without calling me to mind; for, if I'm not mistaken, the Queen of +Hungary will find occupation enough for them." + +After some further conversation of this kind, Cazeneau returned to +the subject of Mimi, asking particularly about her life in +Louisbourg, and whether Claude had seen her often. The information +which he received on this point seemed to give him satisfaction. + +"Does this young man claim to be a Montresor?" asked the commandant, +"or is he merely interesting himself in the affairs of that family by +way of au intrigue?" + +"It is an intrigue," said Cazeneau. "He does not call himself +Montresor openly, but I have reason to know that he is intending to +pass himself off as the son and heir of the Count Eugene, who was +outlawed nearly twenty years ago. Perhaps you have heard of that." + +"O, yes; I remember all about that. His wife was a Huguenot, and both +of them got off. His estates were confiscated. It was private enmity, +I believe. Some one got a rich haul. Ha, ha, ha!" + +At this Cazeneau's face turned as black as a thundercloud. The +commandant saw that his remark had been an unfortunate one, and +hastened to change the conversation. + +"So this young fellow has a plan of that sort, you think. Of course +he's put up by others--some wirepullers behind the scenes. Well, he's +safe enough now, and he has that hanging over him which will put an +end to this scheme, whoever may have started it." + + +At this Cazeneau recovered his former calmness, and smiled somewhat +grimly. + +"I can guess pretty well," said Cazeneau, "how this plot may have +originated. You must know that when the Count de Montresor and his +countess fled, they took with them a servant who had been their +steward. This man's name was Motier. Now, both the count and countess +died shortly after their arrival in America. The countess died first, +somewhere in Canada, and then the count seemed to lose his reason; +for he went off into the wilderness, and has never been heard of +since. He must have perished at once. His steward, Motier, was then +left. This man was a Huguenot and an incorrigible rascal. He found +Canada too hot to hold him with his infidel Huguenot faith, and so he +went among the English. I dare say that this Motier, ever since, has +been concocting a plan by which he might make his fortune out of the +Montresor estates. This Claude Motier is his son, and has, no doubt, +been brought up by old Motier to believe that he is the son of the +count; or else the young villain is his partner. You see his game +now--don't you? He hired a schooner to take him here. He would have +began his work here by getting some of you on his side, and gaining +some influence, or money, perhaps, to begin with. Very well; what +then? Why, then off he goes to France, where he probably intended to +take advantage of the change in the ministry to push his claims, in +the hope of making something out of them. And there is no doubt that, +with his impudence, the young villain might have done something. And +that reminds me to ask you whether you found anything at his +lodgings." + +"No, nothing." + +"He should be searched. He must have some papers." + +"He shall be searched to-night." + +"I should have done that before. I left word to have that done before +sending him from Grand Pre; but, as the fellow got off, why, of +course that was no use. And I only hope he hasn't thought of +destroying the papers. But if he has any, he won't want to destroy +them--till the last moment. Perhaps he won't even think of it." + +"Do you suppose that this Motier has lived among the English all his +life?" + +"I believe so." + +"Impossible!" + +"Why so?" + +"His manner, his accent, and his look are all as French as they can +possibly be." + +"How he has done it I am unable to conjecture. This Motier, pere, +must have been a man of superior culture, to have brought up such a +very gentlemanly young fellow as this." + +"Well, there is a difficulty about that. My opinion of the New +Englanders is such that I do not think they would allow a man to live +among them who looked so like a Frenchman." + +"Bah! his looks are nothing; and they don't know what his French +accent may be." + +"Do you think, after all, that his own story is true about living in +New England? May he not be some adventurer, who has drifted away from +France of late years, and has come in contact with Motier? Or, better +yet, may he not have been prepared for his part, and sent out by some +parties in France, who are familiar with the whole Montresor +business, and are playing a deep game?" + +Cazeneau, at this, sat for a time in deep thought. + +"Your suggestion," said he, at length, "is certainly a good one, and +worth consideration. Yet I don't see how it can be so. No--for this +reason: the captain of the schooner was certainly a New Englander, +and e spoke in my hearing, on several occasions, as though this +Motier was, like himself, a native of New England, and as one, too, +whom he had known for years. Once he spoke as though he had known him +from boyhood. I know enough English to understand that. Besides, this +fellow's English is as perfect as his French. No, it cannot be +possible that he has been sent out by any parties in France. He must +have lived in New England nearly all his life, even if he was not +born there; and I cannot agree with you." + +"O, I only made the suggestion. It was merely a passing thought." + +"Be assured this steward Motier has brought him up with an eye to +using him for the very purpose on which he is now going." + +"Do you suppose that Motier is alive?" + +"Of course." + +"He may be dead." + +"And what then?" + +"In that case this young fellow is not an agent of anybody, but is +acting for himself." + +"Even if that were so, I do not see what difference it would make. He +has been educated for the part which he is now playing." + +"Do you think," asked the commandant, after a pause, "that the Count +de Montresor had a son?" + +"Certainly not." + +"He may have had, and this young fellow may be the one." + +"That's what he says," said Cazeneau; "but he can never prove it; +and, besides, it was impossible, for the count would never have left +him as he did." + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +EXAMINATIONS. + + +Cazeneau improved in health and strength every day. A week passed, +during which period he devoted all his attention to himself, keeping +quietly to his room, with the exception of an occasional walk in the +sun, when the weather was warm, and letting Nature do all she could. +The wound had been severe, though not mortal, and hardly what could +be called even dangerous. The worst was already past on the journey +to Louisbourg; and when once he had arrived there, he had but to wait +for his strength to rally from the shock. + +While thus waiting, he saw no one outside of the family of the +commandant. Mimi was not interfered with. Claude received no +communications from him for good or evil. Pere Michel, who expected +to be put through a course of questioning, remained unquestioned; nor +did he assume the office of commandant, which now was his. + +At the end of a week he found himself so much better that he began to +think himself able to carry out the various purposes which lay in his +mind. First of all, he relieved the late commandant of his office, +and took that dignity upon himself. + +All this time Mimi had been under the same roof, a prey to the +deepest anxiety. The poignant grief which she had felt for the loss +of her father had been alleviated for a time by the escape of Claude; +but now, since his arrest, and the arrival of the dreaded Cazeneau, +it seemed worse than ever; the old grief returned, and, in addition, +there were new ones of equal force. There was the terror about her +own future, which looked dark indeed before her, from the purposes of +Cazeneau; and then there was also the deep anxiety, which never left +her, about the fate of Claude. Of him she knew nothing, having heard +not one word since his arrest. She had not seen Pere Michel, and +there was no one whom she could ask. The lady of the commandant was +kind enough; but to Mimi she seemed a mere creature of Cazeneau, and +for this reason she never dreamed of taking her into her confidence, +though that good lady made several unmistakable attempts to enter +into her secret. + +Such was her state of mind when she received a message that M. Le +Comte de Cazeneau wished to pay his respects to her. + +Mimi knew only too well what that meant, and would have avoided the +interview under any plea whatever, if it had been possible. But that +could not be done; and so, with a heart that throbbed with painful +emotions, she went to meet him. + +After waiting a little time, Cazeneau made his appearance, and +greeted her with very much warmth and earnestness. He endeavored to +infuse into his manner as much as possible of the cordiality of an +old and tried friend, together with the tenderness which might be +shown by a father or an elder brother. He was careful not to exhibit +the slightest trace of annoyance at anything that had happened since +he last saw her, nor to show any suspicion that she could be in any +way implicated with his enemy. + +But Mimi did not meet him half way. She was cold and repellent; or, +rather, perhaps it may with more truth be said, she was frightened +and embarrassed. + +In spite of Cazeneau's determination to touch on nothing unpleasant, +he could not help noticing Mimi's reserve, and remarking on it. + +"You do not congratulate me," said he. "Perhaps you have not heard +the reason why I left your party in the woods. It was not because I +grew tired of your company. It was because I was attacked by an +assassin, and narrowly escaped with my life. It has only been by a +miracle that I have come here; and, though I still have something of +my strength, yet I am very far from being the man that I was when you +saw me last." + +At these words Mimi took another look at Cazeneau, and surveyed him +somewhat more closely. She felt a slight shock at noticing now the +change which had taken place in him. He looked so haggard, and so +old! + +She murmured a few words, which Cazeneau accepted as expressions of +good will, and thanked her accordingly. The conversation did not last +much longer. Cazeneau himself found it rather too tedious where he +had to do all the talking, and where the other was only a girl too +sad or too sullen to answer. One final remark was made, which seemed +to Mimi to express the whole purpose of his visit. + +"You need not fear, mademoiselle," said he, "that this assassin will +escape. That is impossible, since he is under strict confinement, and +in a few days must be tried for his crimes." + +What that meant Mimi knew only too well; and after Cazeneau left, +these words rang in her heart. + +After his call on Mimi, Cazeneau was waited on by the ex-commandant, +who acquainted him with the result of certain inquiries which he had +been making. These inquiries had been made by means of a prisoner, +who had been put in with Claude in order to win the young man's +confidence, and thus get at his secret; for Cazeneau had been of the +opinion that there were accomplices or allies of Claude in France, of +whom it would be well to know the names. The ex-commandant was still +more eager to know. He had been very much struck by the claim of +Claude to be a De Montresor, and by Cazeneau's own confession that +the present _regime_ was unfavorable to him; and under these +circumstances the worthy functionary, who always looked out for +number one, was busy weighing the advantages of the party of Claude +as against the party of Cazeneau. + +On the evening of the day when he had called on Mimi, Cazeneau was +waited on by Pere Michel. He himself had sent for the priest, whom he +had summoned somewhat abruptly. The priest entered the apartment, +and, with a bow, announced himself. As Cazeneau looked up, he +appeared for a moment struck with involuntary respect by the +venerable appearance of this man, or there may have been something +else at work in him; but, whatever the cause, he regarded the priest +attentively for a few moments, without saying a word. + +"Pere Michel," said he, at length, "I have called you before me in +private, to come to an understanding with you. Had I followed my own +impulses, I would have ordered your arrest, on my entrance into +Louisbourg, as an accomplice of that young villain. I thought it +sufficient, however, to spare you for the present, and keep you under +surveillance. I am, on the whole, glad that I did not yield to my +first impulse of anger, for I can now, in perfect calmness, go with +you over your acts during the journey here, and ask you for an +explanation." + +The priest bowed. + +"Understand me, Pere Michel," said Cazeneau; "I have now no hard +feeling left. I may say, I have almost no suspicion. I wish to be +assured of your innocence. I will take anything that seems like a +plausible excuse. I respect your character, and would rather have you +as my friend than--than not." + +The priest again bowed, without appearing at all affected by these +conciliatory words. + +"After I was assassinated in the woods," said Cazeneau, "I was saved +from death by the skill and fidelity of my Indians. It seems to me +still, Pere Michel, as it seemed then, that something might have been +done by you. Had you been in league with my enemy, you could not have +done worse. You hastened forward with all speed, leaving me to my +fate. As a friend, you should have turned back to save a friend; as a +priest, you should have turned back to give me Christian burial. What +answer have you to make to this?" + +"Simply this," said the priest, with perfect calmness: "that when you +left us you gave orders that we should go on, and that you would find +your way to us. I had no thought of turning back, or waiting. I knew +the Indians well, and knew that they can find their way through the +woods as easily as you can through the streets of Paris. I went +forward, then, without any thought of waiting for you, thinking that +of course you would join us, as you said." + +"When did Motier come up with you?" asked Cazeneau. + +"On the following day," answered the priest. + +"Did he inform you what had taken place?" + +"He did." + +"Why, then, did you not turn back to help me?" + +"Because Motier informed me that you were dead." + +"Very good. He believed so, I doubt not; but, at any rate, you might +have turned back, if only to give Christian burial." + +"I intended to do that at some future time," said Pere Michel; "but +at that time I felt my chief duty to be to the living. How could I +have left the Countess Laborde? Motier would not have been a proper +guardian to convey her to Louisbourg, and to take her back with me +was impossible. I therefore decided to go on, as you said, and take +her first to Louisbourg, and afterwards to return." + +"You showed no haste about it," said Cazeneau. + +"I had to wait here," said the priest. + +"May I ask what could have been the urgent business which kept you +from the sacred duty of the burial of the dead?" + +"A ship is expected every day, and I waited to get the letters of my +superiors, with reference to further movements on my mission." + +"You say that Motier informed you about my death. Did he tell you how +it had happened?" + +"He said that you and he had fought, and that you had been killed." + +"Why, then, did you not denounce him to the authorities on your +arrival here?" + +"On what charge?" + +"On the charge of murder." + +"I did not know that when one gentleman is unfortunate enough to kill +another, in fair fight, that it can be considered murder. The duel is +as lawful in America as in France." + +"This was not a duel!" cried Cazeneau. "It was an act of +assassination. Motier is no better than a murderer." + +"I only knew his own account," said the priest. + +"Besides," continued Cazeneau, "a duel can only take place between +two equals; and this Motier is one of the _canaille_, one not worthy +of my sword." + +"Yet, monsieur," said the priest, "when you arrested him first, it +was not as one of the _canaille_, but as the son of the outlawed +Count de Montresor." + +"True," said Cazeneau; "but I have reason to believe that he is +merely some impostor. He is now under a different accusation. But one +more point. How did Motier manage to escape?" + +"As to that, monsieur, I always supposed that his escape was easy +enough, and that he could have effected it at once. The farm-houses +of the Acadians are not adapted to be very secure prisons. There were +no bolts and bars, and no adequate watch." + +"True; but the most significant part of his escape is, that he had +external assistance. Who were those Indians who led him on my trail? +How did he, a stranger, win them over?" + +"You forget, monsieur, that this young man has lived all his life in +America. I know that he has been much in the woods in New England, +and has had much intercourse with the Indians there. It was, no +doubt, very easy for him to enter into communication with Indians +here. They are all alike." + +"But how could he have found them? He must have had them at the +house, or else friends outside must have sent them." + +"He might have bribed the people of the house." + +"Impossible!" + +"Monsieur does not mean to say that anything is impossible to one who +has gold. Men of this age do anything for gold." + +Cazeneau was silent. To him this was so profoundly true that he had +nothing to say. He sat in silence for a little while, and then +continued:-- + +"I understand that at the time of the arrest of Motier, he was in the +garden of the residence, with the Countess de Laborde, and that you +were with them. How is this? Did this interview take place with your +sanction or connivance?" + +"I knew nothing about it. It was by the merest accident, as far as I +know." + +"You did not help them in this way?" + +"I did not." + +"Monsieur L'Abbe," said Cazeneau, "I am glad that you have answered +my questions so fully and so frankly. I confess that, in my first +anger, I considered that in some way you had taken part against me. +To think so gave me great pain, as I have had too high an esteem for +you to be willing to think of you as an enemy. But your explanations +are in every way satisfactory. T hope, monsieur, that whatever +letters you receive from France, they will not take you away from +this part of the world. I feel confident that you, with your +influence over the Indians here, will be an invaluable ally to one in +my position, in the endeavors which I shall make to further in these +parts the interests of France and of the church." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +A RAY OF LIGHT. + + +After leaving Cazeneau, Pere Michel went to the prison where Claude +was confined. The young man looked pale and dejected, for the +confinement had told upon his health and spirits; and worse than the +confinement was the utter despair which had settled down upon his +soul. At the sight of the priest, he gave a cry of joy, and hurried +forward. + +"I thought you had forgotten all about me," said Claude, as he +embraced the good priest, while tears of joy started to his eyes. + +"I have never forgotten you, my son," said the priest, as he returned +his embrace; "that is impossible. I have thought of you both night +and day, and have been trying to do something for you." + +"For me," said Claude, gloomily, "nothing can be done. But tell me +about her. How does she bear this?" + +"Badly," said the priest, "as you may suppose." + +Claude sighed. + +"My son," said the priest, "I have come to you now on important +business; and, first of all, I wish to speak to you about a subject +that you will consider most important. I mean that secret which you +wish to discover, and which drew you away from your home." + +"Do you know anything about it?" + +"Much. Remember I was with Laborde in his last hours, and received +his confession. I am, therefore, able to tell you all that you wish +to know; and after that you must decide for yourself another +question, which will grow out of this. + +"About twenty years ago there was a beautiful heiress, who was +presented at court. Her name was the Countess de Besancon. She was a +Huguenot, and therefore not one whom you would expect to see amid the +vicious circles at Versailles. But her guardians were Catholic, and +hoped that the attractions of the court might weaken her faith. She +became the admired of all, and great was the rivalry for her favor. +Two, in particular, devoted themselves to her--the Count de Montresor +and the Count de Laborde. She preferred the former, and they were +married. After this, the count and countess left the court, and +retired to the Chateau de Montresor. + +"Laborde and Montresor had always been firm friends until this; but +now Laborde, stung by jealousy and hate, sought to effect the ruin of +Montresor. At first his feeling was only one of jealousy, which was +not unnatural, under the circumstances. Left to himself, I doubt not +that it would have died a natural death; but, unfortunately, Laborde +was under the influence of a crafty adventurer, who now, when +Montresor's friendship was removed, gained an ascendency over him. +This man was this Cazeneau, who has treated you so shamefully. + +"I will not enlarge upon his character. You yourself know now well +enough what that is. He was a man of low origin, who had grown up +amid the vilest court on the surface of the earth. At that time the +Duke of Orleans and the Abbe Dubois had control of everything, and +the whole court was an infamous scene of corruption. Cazeneau soon +found means to turn the jealousy of Laborde into a deeper hate, and +to gain his co-operation in a scheme which he had formed for his own +profit. + +"Cazeneau's plan was this: The laws against the Huguenots were very +stringent, and were in force, as, indeed, they are yet. The Countess +de Montresor was a Huguenot, and nothing could make her swerve from +her faith. The first blow was levelled at her, for in this way they +knew that they could inflict a deeper wound upon her husband. She was +to be arrested, subjected to the mockery of French justice, and +condemned to the terrible punishment which the laws inflicted upon +heretics. Had Montresor remained at court, he could easily have +fought off this pair of conspirators; but, being away, he knew +nothing about it till all was ready; and then he had nothing to do +but to fly, in order to save his wife. + +"Upon this, fresh charges were made against him, and lettres de +cachet were issued. These would have flung him into the Bastile, to +rot and die forgotten. But Montresor had effectually concealed +himself, together with his wife, and the emissaries of the government +were baffled. It was by that time too late for him to defend himself +in any way; and the end of it was, that he decided to fly from +France. He did so, and succeeded in reaching Quebec in safety. Here +he hoped to remain only for a time, and expected that before long a +change in the ministry might take place, by means of which he might +regain his rights. + +"But Fleury was all-powerful with the king, and Cazeneau managed +somehow to get into Fleury's good graces, so that Montresor had no +chance. The Montresor estates, and all the possessions of his wife, +were confiscated, and Laborde and Cazeneau secured much of them. But +Montresor had other things to trouble him. His wife grew ill, and +died not long after his arrival, leaving an infant son. Montresor now +had nothing which seemed to him worth living for. He therefore left +his child to the care of the faithful Motier, and disappeared, as you +have told me, and has never been heard of since. + +"Of course Laborde knew nothing of this, and I only add this to the +information which he gave, in order to make it as plain to you as it +is to me. Laborde asserted that after the first blow he recoiled, +conscience-stricken, and refused further to pursue your father, +though Cazeneau was intent upon his complete destruction; and perhaps +this is the reason why Montresor was not molested at Quebec. A better +reason, however, is to be found in the merciful nature of Fleury, +whom I believe at bottom to have been a good man. + +"After this, years passed. To Laborde they were years of remorse. +Hoping to get rid of his misery, he married. A daughter was born to +him. It was of no use. His wife died. His daughter was sent to a +convent to be educated. He himself was a lonely, aimless man. What +was worse, he was always under the power of Cazeneau, who never would +let go his hold. This Cazeneau squandered the plunder of the +Montresors upon his own vices, and soon became as poor as he was +originally. After this he lived upon Laborde. His knowledge of +Laborde's remorse gave him a power over him which his unhappy victim +could not resist. The false information which Laborde had sworn to +against the Count de Montresor was perjury; and Cazeneau, the very +man who had suggested it, was always ready to threaten to denounce +him to Fleury. + +"So time went on. Laborde grew older, and at last the one desire of +his life was to make amends before he died. At length Fleury died. +The new ministry were different. All of them detested Cazeneau. One +of them--Maurepas--was a friend to Laborde. To this Maurepas, Laborde +told his whole story, and Maurepas promised that he would do all in +his power to make amends. The greatest desire of Laborde was to +discover some one of the family. He had heard that the count and +countess were both dead, but that they had left an infant son. It was +this that brought him out here. He hoped to find that son, and +perhaps the count himself, for the proof of his death was not very +clear. He did, indeed, find that son, most wonderfully, too, and +without knowing it; for, as you yourself see, there cannot be a doubt +that you are that son. + +"Now, Laborde kept all this a profound secret from Cazeneau, and +hoped, on leaving France, never to see him again. What, however, was +his amazement, on reaching the ship, to learn that Cazeneau also was +going! He had got the appointment to Louisbourg from Fleury before +his death, and the appointment had been confirmed by the new +ministry, for some reason or other. I believe that they will recall +him at once, and use his absence to effect his ruin. I believe +Cazeneau expects this, and is trying to strengthen his resources by +getting control of the Laborde estates. His object in marrying Mimi +is simply this. This was the chief dread of Laborde in dying, and +with his last words he entreated me to watch over his daughter. + +"Cazeneau's enmity to you must be accounted for on the ground that he +discovered, somehow, your parentage. Mimi told me afterwards, that he +was near you one day, concealed, while you were telling her. He was +listening, beyond a doubt, and on the first opportunity determined to +put you out of the way. He dreads, above all things, your appearance +in France as the son of the unfortunate Count de Montresor. For now +all those who were once powerful are dead, and the present government +would be very glad to espouse the Montresor cause, and make amends, +as far as possible, for his wrongs. They would like to use you as a +means of dealing a destructive blow against Cazeneau himself. +Cazeneau's first plan was to put you out of the way on some charge of +treason; but now, of course, the charge against you will be attempt +at murder." + +To all this Claude listened with much less interest than he would +have felt formerly. But the sentence of death seemed impending, and +it is not surprising that the things of this life seemed of small +moment. + +"Well," said he, with a sigh, "I'm much obliged to you for telling me +all this; but it makes very little difference to me now." + +"Wait till you have heard all," said the priest. "I have come here +for something more; but it was necessary to tell you all this at the +first. I have now to tell you that--your position is full of hope; in +fact--" Here the priest put his head close to Claude's ear, and +whispered, "I have come to save you." + +"What!" cried Claude. + +The priest placed his hand on Claude's mouth. + +"No one is listening; but it is best to be on our guard," he +whispered. "Yes, I can save you, and will. This very night you shall +be free, on your way to join your friend, the captain. To-day I +received a message from him by an Indian. He had reached Canso. I had +warned him to go there. The Indians went on board, and brought his +message. He will wait there for us." + +At this intelligence, which to Claude was unexpected and amazing, he +could not say one word, but sat with clasped hands and a face of +rapture. But suddenly a thought came to his mind, which disturbed his +joy. + +"Mimi--what of her?" + +"You must go alone," said the priest. + +Claude's face grew dark. He shook his head. + +"Then I will not go at all." + +"Not go! Who is she--do you know? She is the daughter of Laborde, the +man who ruined your father." + +Claude compressed his lips, and looked with fixed determination at +the priest. + +"She is not to blame," said he, "for her father's faults. She has +never known them, and never shall know them. Besides, for all that he +did, her father suffered, and died while seeking to make atonement. +My father himself, were he alive, would surely forgive that man for +all he did; and I surely will not cherish hate against his memory. So +Mimi shall be mine. She is mine; we have exchanged vows. I will stay +here and die, rather than go and leave her." + +"Spoken like a young fool, as you are!" said the priest. "Well, if +you will not go without her, you shall go with her; but go you must, +and to-night." + +"What? can she go too, after all? O, my best Pere Michel, what can I +say?" + +"Say nothing as yet, for there is one condition." + +"What is that? I will agree to anything. Never mind conditions." + +"You must be married before you go." + +"Married!" cried Claude, in amazement. + +"Yes." + +"Married! How? Am I not here in a dungeon? How can she and I be +married?" + +"I will tell you how presently. But first, let me tell you why. First +of all, we may all get scattered in the woods. It will be very +desirable that she should have you for her lawful lord and master, so +that you can have a right to stand by her to the last. You can do far +more for her than I can, and I do not wish to have all the +responsibility. This is one reason. + +"But there is another reason, which, to me, is of greater importance. +It is this, my son: You may be captured. The worst may come to the +worst. You may--which may Heaven forbid--yet you may be put to +death. I do not think so. I hope not. I hope, indeed, that Cazeneau +may eventually fall a prey to his own machinations. But it is +necessary to take this into account. And then, my son, if such a sad +fate should indeed be yours, we must both of us think what will be +the fate of Mimi. If you are not married, her fate will be swift and +certain. She will be forced to marry this infamous miscreant, who +does not even pretend to love her, but merely wants her money. He has +already told her his intention--telling her that her father left +nothing, and that he wishes to save her from want, whereas her father +left a very large estate. Such will be her fate if she is single. But +if she is your wife, all will be different. As your widow, she will +be safe. He would have to allow her a decent time for mourning; and +in any case he would scarce be able so to defy public opinion as to +seek to marry the widow of the man whom he had killed. Besides, to +gain time would be everything; and before a year would be over, a +host of friends would spring up to save her from him. This, then, is +the reason why I think that you should be married." + +"I am all amazement," cried Claude, "I am bewildered. Married! Such a +thing would be my highest wish. But I don't understand all this. How +is it possible to think of marriage at such a time as this?" + +"Well, I will now explain that," said the priest. "The late +commandant is a friend of mine. We were acquainted with each other +years ago in France. As soon as Cazeneau made his appearance here, +and you were arrested, I went to him and told him the whole story of +your parents, as I have just now told you. He had heard something +about their sad fate in former years, and his sympathies were all +enlisted. Besides, he looks upon Cazeneau as a doomed man, the +creature of the late regime, the fallen government. He expects that +Cazeneau will be speedily recalled, disgraced, and punished. He also +expects that the honors of the Count de Montresor will be restored to +you. He is sufficient of an aristocrat to prefer an old and honorable +name, like Montresor, to that of a low and unprincipled adventurer, +like Cazeneau, and does not wish to see the Countess Laborde fall a +victim to the machinations of a worn-out scoundrel. And so the +ex-commandant will do all that he can. Were it not for him, I do not +think I could succeed in freeing both of you, though I still might +contrive to free you alone." + +"O, my dear Pere Michel! What can I say? I am dumb!" + +"Say nothing. I must go now." + +"When will you come?" + +"At midnight. There will be a change of guards then. The new sentry +will be favorable; he will run away with us, so as to save himself +from punishment." + +"And when shall we be married?" + +"To-night. You will go from here to the commandant's residence, and +then out. But we must haste, for by daybreak Cazeneau will discover +all--perhaps before. We can be sure, however, of three hours. I hope +it will be light. Well, we must trust to Providence. And now, my son, +farewell till midnight." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +ESCAPE. + + +Claude remained alone once more, with his brain in a whirl from the +tumult of thought which had arisen. This interview with the priest +had been the most eventful hour of his life. He had learned the +secret of his parentage, the wrongs and sufferings of his father and +mother, the villany of Cazeneau, the true reason for the bitter +enmity which in him had triumphed over gratitude, and made him seek +so pertinaciously the life of the man who had once saved his own. + +It seemed like a dream. But a short time before, not one ray of hope +appeared to illuminate the midnight gloom which reigned around him +and within him. Now all was dazzling brightness. It seemed too +bright; it was unnatural; it was too much to hope for. That he should +escape was of itself happiness enough; but that he should also join +Mimi once more, and that he should be joined to her, no more to part +till death, was an incredible thing. Mimi herself must also know +this, and was even now waiting for him, as he was waiting for her. + +Claude waited in a fever of impatience. The monotonous step of the +sentry sounded out as he paced to and fro. At times Claude thought he +heard the approach of footsteps, and listened eagerly; but over and +over again he was compelled to desist, on finding that his senses +deceived him. Thus the time passed, and as it passed, his impatience +grew the more uncontrollable. Had it been possible, he would have +burst open the door, and ventured forth so as to shorten his +suspense. + +At length a sound of approaching footsteps did in reality arise. This +time there was no mistake. He heard voices outside, the challenge and +reply of the changing guard. Then footsteps departed, and the tramp +died away, leaving only the pacing of the sentinel for Claude to +hear. What now? Was this the sentinel who was to be his friend? He +thought so. He believed so. The time passed--too long a time, he +thought, for the sentinel gave no sign: still he kept up his +monotonous tramp. Claude repressed his impatience, and waited till, +to his astonishment, what seemed an immense time had passed away; and +the sentinel came not to his aid. + +Still the time passed. Claude did not know what to think. Gradually a +sickening fear arose--the fear that the whole plan had been +discovered, and that the priest had failed. Perhaps the commandant +had played him false, and had pretended to sympathize with him so as +to draw out his purpose, which he would reveal to Cazeneau, in order +to gain his gratitude, and lay him under obligation. The priest, he +thought, was too guileless to deal with men of the world like these. +He had been caught in a trap, and had involved himself with all the +rest. His own fate could be no worse than it was before, but it was +doubly bitter to fall back into his despair, after having been for a +brief interval raised up to so bright a hope. + +Such were the thoughts that finally took possession of Claude, and, +with every passing moment, deepened into conviction. Midnight had +passed; the sentry had come, and there he paced mechanically, with no +thought of him. Either the ex-commandant or the sentinel had betrayed +them. Too many had been in the secret. Better never to have heard of +this plan than, having heard of it, to find it thus dashed away on +the very eve of its accomplishment. Time passed, and every moment +only added to Claude's bitterness; time passed, and every moment only +served to show him that all was over. A vague thought came of +speaking to the sentinel; but that was dismissed. Then another +thought came, of trying to tear away the iron grating; but the +impossibility of that soon showed itself. He sank down upon his +litter of straw in one corner, and bade adieu to hope. Then he +started up, and paced up and down wildly, unable to yield so calmly +to despair. Then once more he sank down upon the straw. + +Thus he was lying, crouched down, his head in his hands, overwhelmed +utterly, when suddenly a deep sound came to his ears, which in an +instant made him start to his feet, and drove away every despairing +thought, bringing in place of these a new wave of hope, and joy, and +amazement. It was the single toll of the great bell, which, as he +knew, always sounded at midnight. + +Midnight! Was it possible? Midnight had not passed, then. The change +of sentry had been at nine o'clock, which he, deceived by the slow +progress of the hours, had supposed to be midnight. He had been +mistaken. There was yet hope. He rushed to the grating, and listened. +There were footsteps approaching--the tramp of the relieving guard. +He listened till the guard was relieved, and the departing footsteps +died away. Then began the pace of the new sentry. + +What now? Was there to be a repetition of his former experience? Was +he again to be dashed down from this fresh hope into a fresh despair? +He nerved himself for this new ordeal, and waited with a painfully +throbbing heart. At the grating he stood, motionless, listening, with +all his soul wrapped and absorbed in his single sense of hearing. +There were an inner grating and an outer one, and between the two a +sash with two panes of glass. He could hear the sentry as he paced up +and down; he could also hear, far away, the long, shrill note of +innumerable frogs; and the one seemed as monotonous, as unchangeable, +and as interminable as the other. + +But at length the pacing of the sentry ceased. Claude listened; the +sentinel stopped; there was no longer any sound. Claude listened +still. This was the supreme hour of his fate. On this moment depended +all his future. What did this mean? Would the sentry begin his tramp? + +He would; he did. In despair Claude fled from the grating, and fell +back upon the straw. For a time he seemed unconscious of everything; +but at length he was roused by a rattle at the door of his cell. In a +moment he was on his feet, listening. It was the sound of a key as it +slowly turned in the lock. Claude moved not, spoke not; he waited. If +this was his deliverer, all well; if not, he was resolved to have a +struggle for freedom. Then he stole cautiously to the door. + +It opened. Claude thrust his hand through, and seized a human arm. A +man's voice whispered back,-- + +"H-s-s-t! _Suivez moi_." + +A thrill of rapture unutterable passed through every nerve and fibre +of Claude. At once all the past was forgotten; forgotten, also, were +all the dangers that still lay before him. It was enough that this +hope had not been frustrated, that the sentinel had come to deliver +him from the cell at the midnight hour. The cool breeze of night was +wafted in through the open door, and fanned the fevered brow of the +prisoner, bearing on its wings a soothing influence, a healing balm, +and life, and hope. His presence of mind all came back: he was +self-poised, vigilant, cool: all this in one instant. All his powers +would be needed to carry him through the remainder of the night; and +these all were summoned forth, and came at his bidding. And so Claude +followed his guide. + +The sentinel led the way, under the shadow of the wall, towards the +Residency. At one end of this was the chapel. Towards this the +sentinel guided Claude, and, on reaching it, opened the door. A hand +seized his arm, a voice whispered in his ear,-- + +"Welcome, my son. Here is your bride." + +And then a soft hand was placed in his. Claude knew whose hand it +was. He flung his arms around the slender figure of Mimi, and pressed +her to his heart. + +"Come," said the priest. + +He drew them up towards the altar. Others were present. Claude could +not see them; one, however, he could see, was a female, whom he +supposed to be Margot. The moonlight shone in through the great +window over the altar. Here the priest stood, and placed Claude and +Mimi before him. + +Then he went through the marriage service. It was a strange wedding +there at midnight, in the moonlit chapel, with the forms of the +spectators so faintly discerned, and the ghostly outline of priest, +altar, and window before them as they knelt. But they were married; +and Claude once more, in a rapture of feeling, pressed his wife to +his heart. + +They now left the chapel by another door in the rear. The priest led +the way, together with the sentinel. Here was the wall. A flight of +steps led to the top. On reaching this they came to a place where +there was a ladder. Down this they all descended in silence, and +found themselves in the ditch. The ladder was once more made use of +to climb out of this, and then Claude saw a figure crouched on the +ground and creeping towards them. It was an Indian, with whom the +priest conversed in his own language for a moment. + +"All is well," he whispered to Claude. "The captain is waiting for us +many miles from this. And now, forward!" + +The Indian led the way; then went the priest; then Claude with Mimi; +then Margot; last of all came the sentinel, who had deserted his +post, and was now seeking safety in flight under the protection of +Pere Michel. Such was the little party of fugitives that now sought +to escape from Louisbourg into the wild forest around. After walking +for about a mile, they reached a place where five horses were bound. +Here they proceeded to mount. + +"I sent these out after sundown," said the priest to Claude. "There +are not many horses in Louisbourg. These will assist us to escape, +and will be lost to those who pursue. Here, my son, arm yourself, so +as to defend your wife, in case of need." + +With these words the priest handed Claude a sword, pointing also to +pistols which were in the holster. The Indian alone remained on foot. +He held the bridle of the priest's horse, and led the way, sometimes +on what is called an "Indian trot," at other times on a walk. The +others all followed at the same pace. + +The road was the same one which had been traversed by Claude and Mimi +when they first came to Louisbourg--a wide trail, rough, yet +serviceable, over which many pack-horses and droves of cattle had +passed, but one which was not fitted for wheels, and was rather a +trail than a road. On each side the trees arose, which threw a deep +shade, so that, in spite of the moon which shone overhead, it was too +dark to go at any very rapid pace. + +"We must make all the haste we can," said the priest. "In three hours +they will probably discover all. The alarm will be given, and we shall +be pursued. In these three hours, then, we must get so far ahead that +they may not be able to come up with us." + +At first the pathway was wide enough for them all to move at a rapid +pace; but soon it began to grow narrower. As they advanced, the trees +grew taller, and the shadows which they threw were darker. The path +became more winding, for, like all trails, it avoided the larger +trees or stones, and wound around them, where a road would have led +to their removal. The path also became rougher, from stones which +protruded in many places, or from long roots stretching across, which +in the darkness made the horses stumble incessantly. These it was +impossible to avoid. In addition to these, there were miry places, +where the horses sank deep, and could only extricate themselves with +difficulty. + +Thus their progress grew less and less, till at length it dwindled to +a walk, and a slow one at that. Nothing else could be done. They all +saw the impossibility of more rapid progress, in the darkness, over +such a path. Of them all, Claude was the most impatient, as was +natural. His sense of danger was most keen. The terror of the night +had not yet passed away. Already, more than once, he had gone from +despair to hope, and back once more to despair; and it seemed to him +as though his soul must still vibrate between these two extremes. The +hope which was born out of new-found freedom was now rapidly yielding +to the fear of pursuit and re-capture. + +In the midst of these thoughts, he came forth suddenly upon a broad, +open plain, filled with stout underbrush. Through this the trail ran. +Reaching this, the whole party urged their horses at full speed, and +for at least three miles they were able to maintain this rapid +progress. At the end of that distance, the trail once more entered +the woods, and the pace dwindled to a walk. But that three-mile run +cheered the spirits of all. + +"How many miles have we come, I wonder?" asked Claude. + +"About six," said the priest. + +"How many miles is it to the schooner?" + +"About forty." + +Claude drew a long breath. + +"It must be nearly three o'clock in the morning now," said he. "I +dare say they are finding it out now." + +"Well, we needn't stop to listen," said the priest. + +"No; we'll hear them soon enough." + +"At any rate, the dawn is coming," said the priest. "The day will +soon be here, and then we can go on as fast as we wish." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +PURSUIT. + + +As they hurried on, it grew gradually lighter, so that they were able +to advance more rapidly. The path remained about the same, winding as +before, and with the same alternations of roots, stones, and swamp; +but the daylight made all the difference in the world, and they were +now able to urge their horses at the top of their speed. The Indian +who was at their head was able to keep there without much apparent +effort, never holding back or falling behind, though if the ground +had been smoother he could scarcely have done so. With every step the +dawn advanced, until at last the sun rose, and all the forest grew +bright in the beams of day. A feeling of hope and joy succeeded to +the late despondency which had been creeping over them; but this only +stimulated them to redoubled exertions, so that they might not, after +all, find themselves at last cheated out of these bright hopes. + +That they were now pursued they all felt confident. At three o'clock +the absence of the sentry must have been discovered, and, of course, +the flight of Claude. Thereupon the alarm would at once be given. +Cazeneau would probably be aroused, and would proceed to take action +immediately. Even under what might be the most favorable +circumstances to them, it was not likely that there would be a delay +of more than an hour. + +Besides, the pursuer had an advantage over them. They had a start of +three hours; but those three hours were spent in darkness, when they +were able to go over but little ground. All that they had toiled so +long in order to traverse, their pursuers could pass over in one +quarter the time, and one quarter the labor. They were virtually not +more than one hour in advance of the enemy, who would have fresher +horses, with which to lessen even this small advantage. And by the +most favorable calculation, there remained yet before them at least +thirty miles, over a rough and toilsome country. Could they hope to +escape? + +Such were the thoughts that came to Claude's mind, and such the +question that came to him. That question he did not care to discuss +with himself. He could only resolve to keep up the flight till the +last moment, and then resist to the bitter end. + +But now there arose a new danger, which brought fresh difficulties +with it, and filled Claude with new despondency. This danger arose +from a quarter in which he was most assailable to fear and +anxiety--from Mimi. + +He had never ceased, since they first left, to watch over his bride +with the most anxious solicitude, sometimes riding by her side and +holding her hand, when the path admitted it, at other times riding +behind her, so as to keep her in view, and all the time never ceasing +to address to her words of comfort and good cheer. To all his +questions Mimi had never failed to respond in a voice which was full +of cheerfulness and sprightliness, and no misgivings on her account +entered his mind until the light grew bright enough for him to see +her face. Then he was struck by her appearance. She seemed so feeble, +so worn, so fatigued, that a great fear came over him. + +"O, Mimi, darling!" he cried, "this is too much for you." + +"O, no," she replied, in the same tone; "I can keep up as long as you +wish me to." + +"But you look so completely worn out!" + +"O, that's because I've been fretting about you--you bad boy; it's +not this ride at all." + +"Are you sure that you can keep up?" + +"Why, of course I am; and I must, for there's nothing else to be +done." + +"O, Mimi, I'm afraid--I'm very much afraid that you will break down." + +At this Mimi gave a little laugh, but said nothing, and Claude found +himself compelled to trust to hope. Thus they went on for some time +longer. + +But at length Claude was no longer able to conceal the truth from +himself, nor was Mimi able any longer to maintain her loving +deception. She was exceedingly weak; she was utterly worn out; and in +pain Claude saw her form sway to and fro and tremble. He asked her +imploringly to stop and rest. But at the sound of his voice, Mimi +roused herself once more, by a great effort. + +"O, no," she said, with a strong attempt to speak unconcernedly; "O, +no. I acknowledge I am a little tired; and if we come to any place +where we may rest, I think I shall do so; but not here, not here; let +us go farther." + +Claude drew a long breath. Deep anxiety overwhelmed him. Mimi was, in +truth, right. How could they dare to pause just here? The pursuer was +on their track! No; they must keep on; and if Mimi did sink, what +then? But he would not think of it; he would hope that Mimi would be +able, after all, to hold out. + +But at length what Claude had feared came to pass. He had been riding +behind Mimi for some time, so as to watch her better, when suddenly +he saw her slender frame reel to one side. A low cry came from her. +In an instant Claude was at her side, and caught her in his arms in +time to save her from a fall. + +Mimi had not fainted, but was simply prostrated from sheer fatigue. +No strength was left, and it was impossible for her to sit up any +longer. She had struggled to bear up as long as possible, and finally +had given way altogether. + +"I cannot help it," she murmured. + +"O, my darling!" cried Claude, in a voice of anguish. + +"Forgive me, dear Claude. I cannot help it!" + +"O, don't talk so," said Claude. "I ought to have seen your weakness +before, and given you assistance. But come now; I will hold you in my +arms, and we will still be able to go on." + +"I wish you would leave me; only leave me, and then you can be saved. +There is no danger for me; but if you are captured, your life will be +taken. O, Claude, dearest Claude, leave me and fly." + +"You distress me, Mimi, darling, by all this. I cannot leave you; I +would rather die than do so. And so, if you love me, don't talk so." + +At this, with a little sob, Mimi relapsed into silence. + +"Courage, darling," said Claude, in soothing tones. "Who knows but +that they are still in Louisbourg, and have not yet left? We may get +away, after all; or we may find some place of hiding." + +The additional burden which he had been forced to assume overweighted +very seriously Claude's horse, and signs of this began to appear +before long. No sooner, however, had Claude perceived that it was +difficult to keep with the rest of the party, than he concluded to +shift himself, with Mimi, to the horse which Mimi had left. This was +one of the best and freshest of the whole party, and but a slight +delay was occasioned by the change. + +After this they kept up a good rate of speed for more than two hours, +when Claude once more changed to another horse. This time it was to +Margot's horse, which had done less thus far than any of the others. +Margot then took the horse which Claude had at first, and thus they +went on. It was a good contrivance, for thus by changing about from +one to another, and by allowing one horse to be led, the endurance of +the whole was maintained longer than would otherwise have been +possible. + +But at length the long and fatiguing journey began to tell most +seriously on all the horses, and all began to see that further +progress would not be much longer possible. For many hours they had +kept on their path; and, though the distance which they had gone was +not more than twenty-five miles, yet, so rough had been the road that +the labor had been excessive, and all the horses needed rest. By this +time it was midday, and they all found themselves face to face with a +question of fearful import, which none of them knew how to answer. +The question was, what to do. Could they stop? Dare they? Yet they +must. For the present they continued on a little longer. + +They now came to another open space, overgrown with shrubbery, +similar to that which they had traversed in the night. It was about +two miles in extent, and at the other end arose a bare, rocky hill, +beyond which was the forest. + +"We must halt at the top of that hill," said Claude. "It's the best +place. We can guard against a surprise, at any rate. Some of the +horses will drop if we go on much farther." + +"I suppose we'll have to," said the priest. + +"We must rest for half an hour, at least," said Claude. "If they come +up, we'll have to scatter, and take to the woods." + +With these words they rode on, and at length reached the hill. The +path wound up it, and in due time they reached the top. + +But scarcely had they done so, than a loud cry sounded out, which +thrilled through all hearts. Immediately after, a figure came +bounding towards them. + +"Hooray! Hip, hip, hooray!" shouted the new comer. + +"Heavens! Zac!" cried Claude; "you here?" + +"Nobody else," replied Zac, wringing his hand. "But what are you +going to do?" + +"Our horses are blown; we are pursued, but have to halt for a half +hour or so. If they come up, we'll have to scatter, and take to the +woods, and start the horses ahead on the path. This is a good lookout +place." + +With these words Claude began to dismount, bearing his beloved +burden. The priest assisted him. Zac, after his first hurried +greeting, had moved towards Margot, around whom he threw his arms, +with an energetic clasp, and lifted her from the saddle to the +ground. Then he shook hands with her. + +"I'm ver mooch glad to see you," said Margot. "Ees your sheep far +off?" + +"So, they're after you--air they?" said he. "Wal, little one, when +they come, you stick to me--mind that; an' I engage to get you off +free. Stick to me, though. Be handy, an' I'll take you clar of them." + +Claude was now engaged in finding a comfortable place upon which Mimi +might recline. The Indian stood as lookout; the deserter busied +himself with the horses; the priest stood near, watching Claude and +Mimi, while Zac devoted himself to Margot. In the midst of this, the +Indian came and said something to the priest. Claude noticed this, +and started. + +"What is it?" he asked. + +"He hears them," said the priest, significantly. + +"So soon!" exclaimed Claude. "Then we must scatter. The horses will +be of no use. Our last chance is the woods." + +In a moment the alarm was made; hasty directions were given for each +one to take care of himself, and if he eluded the pursuers, to follow +the path to the place where the schooner lay. Meanwhile the horses +were to be driven ahead by the Indian as far as possible. The Indian +at once went off, together with the deserter, and these two drove the +horses before them into the woods, along the path. Then Zac followed. +Lifting Margot in his arms, he bore her lightly along, and soon +disappeared in the woods. + +Then Claude took Mimi in his arms, and hastened as fast as he could +towards the shelter of the woods. But Claude had not Zac's strength, +and besides, Mimi was more of a dead weight than Margot, so that he +could not go nearly so fast. Zac was in the woods, and out of sight, +long before Claude had reached the place; and by that time the rest +of the party, both horses and men, had all disappeared, with the +exception of Pere Michel. The good priest kept close by the young +man, as though resolved to share his fate, whether in life or death. +If it was difficult while carrying Mimi over the path, Claude found +it far more so on reaching the woods. Here he dared not keep to the +path, for the very object of going to the woods was to elude +observation by plunging into its darkest and deepest recesses. Zac +had gone there at a headlong rate, like a fox to his covert. Such a +speed Claude could not rival, and no sooner did he take one step in +the woods, than he perceived the full difficulty of his task. The +woods were of the wildest kind, filled with rocks and fallen trees, +the surface of the ground being most irregular. At every other step +it was necessary to clamber over some obstacle, or crawl under it. + +"We cannot hope to go far," said the priest. "Our only course now +will be to find some convenient hiding-place. Perhaps they will pass +on ahead, and then we can go farther on." + +At this very moment the noise of horses and men sounded close behind. +One hurried look showed them all. Their pursuers had reached their +late halting-place, and were hurrying forward. The place bore traces +of their halt, which did not escape the keen eyes of their enemies. +At the sight, Claude threw himself down in a hollow behind a tree, +with Mimi beside him, while the priest did the same. + +The suspicions of the pursuers seemed to have been awakened by the +signs which they had seen at the last halting-place. They rode on +more slowly. At length they divided, half of them riding rapidly +ahead, and the other half moving forward at a walk, and scanning +every foot of ground in the open and in the woods. + +At last a cry escaped one of them. Claude heard it. The next moment +he heard footsteps. The enemy were upon him; their cries rang in his +ears. In all the fury of despair, he started to his feet with only +one thought, and that was, to sell his life as dearly as possible. +But Mimi flung herself in his arms, and the priest held his hands. + +"Yield," said the priest. "You can do nothing. There is yet hope." + +The next moment Claude was disarmed, and in the hands of his enemies. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +ZAC AND MARGOT. + + +Seizing Margot in his arms at the first alarm, Zac had fled to the +woods. Being stronger than Claude, he was fortunate in having a less +unwieldy burden; for Margot did not lie like a heavyweight in his +arms, but was able to dispose herself in a way which rendered her +more easy to be carried. On reaching the woods, Zac did not at once +plunge in among the trees, but continued along the trail for some +distance, asking Margot to tell him the moment she saw one of the +pursuing party. As Margot's face was turned back, she was in a +position to watch. It was Zac's intention to find some better place +for flight than the stony and swampy ground at the outer edge of the +forest; and as he hurried along, he watched narrowly for a good +opportunity to leave the path. At length he reached a place where the +ground descended on the other side of the hill, and here he came to +some pine trees. There was but little underbrush, the surface of the +ground was comparatively smooth, and good progress could be made here +without much difficulty. Here, then, Zac turned in. As he hurried +onward, he found the pine forest continuing along the whole slope, +and but few obstacles in his way. Occasionally a fallen tree lay +before him, and this he could easily avoid. Hurrying on, then, under +these favorable circumstances, Zac was soon lost in the vast forest, +and out of sight as well as out of hearing of all his purposes. Here +he might have rested; but still he kept on. He was not one to do +things by halves, and chose rather to make assurance doubly sure; and +although even Margot begged him to put her down, yet he would not. + +"Wal," said he, at last, "'tain't often I have you; an' now I got +you, I ain't goin' to let you go for a good bit yet. Besides, you +can't ever tell when you're safe. Nothin' like makin' things sure, I +say." + +With these words Zac kept on his way, though at a slower pace. It was +not necessary for him to fly so rapidly, nor was he quite so fresh as +when he started. Margot also noticed this, and began to insist so +vehemently on getting down, that he was compelled to grant her +request. He still held her hand, however, and thus the two went on +for some distance farther. + +At last they reached a point where there was an abrupt and almost +precipitous descent. From this crest of the precipice the eye could +wander over a boundless prospect of green forest, terminated in the +distance by wooded hills. + +"Wal," said Zac, "I think we may as well rest ourselves here." + +"Dat is ver nice," said Margot. + +Zac now arranged a seat for her by gathering some moss at the foot of +a tree. She seated herself here, and Zac placed himself by her side. +He then opened a bag which he carried slung about his shoulders, and +brought forth some biscuit and ham, which proved a most grateful +repast to his companion. + +"Do you tink dey chase us here?" asked Margot. + +"Wal, we're safer here, ef they do," said Zac. "We can't be taken by +surprise in the rear, for they can't climb up very easy without our +seein' 'em; an' as for a front attack, why, I'll keep my eye open: +an' I'd like to see the Injin or the Moosoo that can come unawars on +me. I don't mind two or three of 'em, any way," continued Zac, "for +I've got a couple of bulldogs." + +"Boul-dogs?" said Margot, inquiringly. + +"Yes, these here," said Zac, opening his frock, and displaying a belt +around his waist, which held a brace of pistols. "But I don't expect +I'll have to use 'em, except when I heave in sight of the skewner, +an' want to hail 'em." + +"But we are loss," said Margot, "in dis great woos. How sall we ever +get any whar out of him?" + +"O, that's easy enough," said Zac. "I know all about the woods, and +can find my way anywhars. My idee is, to go back towards the trail, +strike into it, an' move along slowly an' cautiously, till we git +nigh the place whar I left the skewner." + +Zac waited in this place till towards evening, and then started once +more. He began to retrace his steps in a direction which he judged +would ultimately strike the trail, along which he had resolved to go. +He had weighed the chances, and concluded that this would be his best +course. He would have the night to do it in; and if he should come +unawares upon any of his enemies, he thought it would be easy to dash +into the woods, and escape under the cover of the darkness. Vigilance +only was necessary, together with coolness and nerve, and all these +qualities he believed himself to have. + +The knowledge of the woods which Zac claimed stood him in good stead +on the present occasion; he was able to guide his course in a very +satisfactory manner; and about sundown, or a little after, he struck +the trail. Here he waited for a short time, watching and listening; +and then, having heard nothing whatever that indicated danger, he +went boldly forward, with Margot close behind. As they advanced, it +grew gradually darker, and at length the night came down. Overhead +the moon shone, disclosing a strip of sky where the trees opened +above the path. For hours they walked along. No enemy appeared; and +at length Zac concluded that they had all dispersed through the +woods, at the point where they had first come upon them, and had not +followed the path any farther. What had become of Claude he could not +imagine, but could only hope for the best. + +They rested for about an hour at midnight. Then Zac carried Margot +for another hour. After this, Margot insisted on walking. At length, +after having thus passed the whole night, the path came to a creek. +Here Zac paused. + +"Now, little gal," said he, "you may go to sleep till mornin', for I +think we've got pooty nigh onto the end of our tramp." + +With these words Zac led the way a little distance from the path, and +here Margot flung herself upon a grassy knoll, and fell sound asleep, +while Zac, at a little distance off, held watch and guard over her. + +Several hours passed, and Zac watched patiently. He had not the heart +to rouse her, unless compelled by absolute necessity. In this case, +however, no necessity arose, and he left her to wake herself. When at +length Margot awoke, the sun was high in the heavens, and Zac only +smiled pleasantly when she reproached him for not waking her before. + +"O, no harm; no 'casion has riz, an' so you were better havin' your +nap. You'll be all the abler to do what you may hev yet before you. +An' now, little un, if you're agreed, we'll hev a bite o' breakfast." + +A short breakfast, composed of hard biscuit and ham, washed down with +cool water from a neighboring brook, served to fortify both for the +duties that lay before them; and after this Zac proposed an immediate +start. + +He led the way along the bank of the creek, and Margot followed. They +walked here for about two miles, until at length they came in sight +of a small harbor, into which the creek ran. In the distance was the +sea; nearer was a headland. + +"This here's the place, the i-dentical place," said Zac, in joyous +tones. "I knowed it; I was sure of it. Come along, little un. We +ain't got much further to go--only to that thar headland; and then, +ef I ain't mistook, we'll find the end to our tramp." + +With these cheering words he led the way along the shore, until at +last they reached the headland. It was rocky and bare of trees. Up +this Zac ran, followed by Margot, and soon reached the top. + +"All right!" he cried. "See thar!" and he pointed out to the sea. + +Margot had Already seen it: it was the schooner, lying there at +anchor. + +"Eet ees de sheep," said Margot, joyously; "but how sall we geet to +her?" + +"O, they're on the lookout," said Zac. "I'll give signals." + +The schooner was not more than a quarter of a mile off. Zac and +Margot were on the bare headland, and could easily be seen. On board +the schooner figures were moving up and down. Zac looked for a few +moments, as if to see whether it was all right, and then gave a +peculiar cry, something like the cawing of a crow, which he repeated +three times. The sound was evidently heard, for at once there was a +movement on board. Zac waved his hat. Then the movement stopped, and +a boat shot out from the schooner, with a man in it, who rowed +towards the headland. He soon came near enough to be recognized. It +was Terry. Zac and Margot hurried to the shore to meet it, and in a +short time both were on board the Parson. + +Great was the joy that was evinced by Terry at the return of his +captain. He had a host of questions to ask about his adventures, and +reproached Zac over and over for not allowing him to go also. Jericho +showed equal feeling, but in a more emphatic form, since it was +evinced in the shape of a substantial meal, which was most welcome to +Zac, and to Margot also. As for Biler, he said not a word, but stood +with his melancholy face turned towards his master, and his jaws +moving as though engaged in devouring something. + +"Sure, an' it's glad I am," said Terry, "for it's not comfortable +I've been--so it ain't. I don't like bein' shut up here, at all, at +all. So we'll just up sail, captain dear, an' be off out of this." + +"O, no," said Zac; "we've got to wait for the others." + +"Wait--is it?" said Terry. + +"Yes." + +"Sure, thin, an' there's a sail out beyant. Ye can't see it now, but +ye'll see it soon, for it's been batin' up to the land all the +mornin'." + +"A sail!" exclaimed Zac. + +"Yis; an' it's a Frinchman--so it is; an' big enough for a dozen of +the likes of us." + +Further inquiry elicited the startling information that early in the +morning Terry had seen, far away in the horizon, a large ship, which +had passed backward and forward while beating up towards the land +against a head wind, and was just now concealed behind a promontory +on the south. At this Zac felt that his situation was a serious one, +and he had to decide what to do. To hoist sail and venture forth to +sea would be to discover himself, and lay himself open to certain +capture; while to remain where he was gave him the chance of being +overlooked. So he decided to remain, and trust to luck. Once, indeed, +he thought of going ashore once more, but this thought was at once +dismissed. On shore he would be lost. The woods were full of his +enemies, and he could hardly hope to reach any English settlement. To +himself alone the chance was but slight, while for Margot it was +impossible. To leave her now was not to be thought of, and besides, +the schooner was the only hope for Claude, who might still be in the +neighborhood. The consequence was, that Zac decided to do nothing but +remain here and meet his fate, whatever that might be. + +Scarcely had he come to this decision, when a sight met his eyes out +beyond the southern promontory, where his gaze had been turned. +There, moving majestically along the sea, he saw a large frigate. It +was not more than a mile away. For about a quarter of an hour the +ship sailed along, and Zac was just beginning to hope that he had not +been seen, when suddenly she came to, and a boat was lowered. + +"She sees us!" said Terry. + +Zac made no reply. + +Yes; there was no doubt of it. They had been seen. Those on board the +ship had been keeping a sharp lookout, and had detected the outline +of the schooner sharply defined against the light limestone rock of +the headland near which she lay. To escape was not to be thought of. +The boat was coming towards them, filled with armed men. Zac stood +quite overwhelmed with dejection; and thus he stood as the Parson was +boarded and seized by the lieutenant of his French majesty's Vengeur, +who took possession of her in the name of his king. + +No sooner had Zac found himself in the power of the enemy, than a +remarkable change took place in the respective positions of himself +and Margot with regard to one another. Thus far he had been her +protector; but now she became his. The first words that she spoke to +the lieutenant served to conciliate his favor, and secure very +respectful treatment for Zac, and seemed to convey such important +intelligence that he concluded at once to transfer Margot to the +Vengeur, where she could tell her story to the captain. + +"Adieu," said she. "We sall soon see again. Do not fear. I make zem +let you go." + +"Wal, little un, I'll try an' hope. But, mind, unless I get you, I +don't much mind what becomes o' me." + +Margot, on being taken on board the Vengeur, was at once examined by +the captain--the Vicomte de Brissac, who found her statement most +important. She contented herself with telling everything that was +essential, and did not think it at all necessary for her to state +that Zac had already been in the hands of French captors, and had +effected an escape. She announced herself as the maid of the Countess +Laborde, who had accompanied her father in the ship Arethuse. She +narrated the shipwreck, and the rescue by Zac and the young Count de +Montresor, the encounter with the Aigle, and the subsequent arrest of +Claude. She mentioned the death of Laborde, and the journey to +Louisbourg by land, with the escape and pursuit of Claude, the fight +with Cazeneau, and his subsequent arrival. She then described their +escape, their pursuit and separation, down to the time of speaking. +She affirmed that Zac had come here from Minas Basin to save his +friend, and was awaiting his arrival when the Vengeur appeared. + +The captain listened with the most anxious attention to every word; +questioned her most minutely about the reasons why Cazeneau had +arrested Claude, and also about his designs on Louisbourg. Margot +answered everything most frankly, and was able to tell him the truth, +inasmuch as she had enjoyed very much of the confidence of Mimi, and +had learned from her about Cazeneau's plans. Captain de Brissac +showed no emotion of any kind, whether of sympathy or indignation; +but Margot formed a very favorable estimate of his character from his +face, and could not help believing that she had won him over as an +ally. She could see that her story had produced a most profound +impression. + +Captain de Brissac was anxious to know what had been the fate of the +other fugitives, especially of Claude and Mimi; but of this Margot +could, of course, give no information. When she had last seen them +they were flying to the woods, and she could only hope that they had +been sufficiently fortunate to get under cover before the arrival of +the enemy. + +Captain de Brissac then sent a crew aboard the Parson, and ordered +them to follow the Vengeur to Louisbourg. Upon this new crew Terry +looked with careful scrutiny. + +"Whisper, captain dear," said he, as he drew up to the meditative +Zac. "Here's another lot o' Frinchmen. Is it afther thrying agin that +ye are, to give 'em the slip?" + +Zac drew a long breath, and looked with a melancholy face at the +Vengeur, which was shaking out her sails, and heading east for +Louisbourg. On the stern he could see a female figure. He could not +recognize the face, but he felt sure that it was Margot. + +"Wal," said he, "I guess we'd better wait a while fust, and see how +things turn out. The little un's oncommon spry, an' may give us a +lift somehow." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +THE COURT MARTIAL. + + +Claude was treated roughly, bound, and sent forward on foot; but the +representations of Pere Michel secured better treatment for Mimi. A +litter was made for her, and on this she was carried. As for Pere +Michel himself, he, too, was conducted back as a prisoner; but the +respect of the commander of the soldiers for the venerable priest +caused him to leave his hands unbound. After a weary tramp they +reached Louisbourg. Cazeneau was at the gate, and greeted them with a +sinister smile. Mimi, utterly worn out, both by fatigue and grief, +took no notice of him, nor did she hear what he said. + +"Take the Countess de Laborde to the Residency." + +"Pardon," said the priest; "that lady is now the Countess de +Montresor." + +At this Cazeneau turned upon him in fury. + +"Traitor!" he hissed; "what do you mean?" + +"I mean that I married her to the Count de Montresor last night." + +"It's a lie! It's a lie!" + +"There are witnesses," said Pere Michel, "who can prove it." + +"It's a lie," said Cazeneau; "but even if it is true, it won't help +her. She'll be a widow before two days. And as for you, you villain +and traitor, you shall bitterly repent your part in last night's +work." + +Pere Michel shrugged his shoulders, and turned away. This act seemed +to madden Cazeneau still more. + +"Why did you not bind this fellow?" he cried, turning to the +commander of the detachment. + +"Your excellency, I had his parole." + +"A curse on his parole! Take him to the prison with Motier, and bind +him like the other." + +Upon this, Mimi was taken to the Residency, and Claude and Pere +Michel were conducted to prison, where both of them were confined. +Cazeneau himself then returned to the Residency. The ex-commandant, +Florian, was at the door. He saw the whole proceeding, but showed no +particular emotion. + +Cazeneau regarded him coldly, and Florian returned his gaze with +haughty indifference. + +"Your plans have not succeeded very well, you see, monsieur," said +Cazeneau. + +"It is not time enough yet to decide," said Florian. + +"To-morrow will decide." + +"I think not. You will find, Monsieur le Commandant, that there is +public opinion, even in Louisbourg, which cannot be despised." + +"Public opinion which favors traitors may safely be despised." + +"True," said Florian; and with these words the two parted. + +The following day came. A court martial had been called to sit at two +in the afternoon. At that hour the session was opened by Cazeneau. +The chief officers of the garrison were present. With them came +Florian. + +"I am sorry, monsieur," said Cazeneau, "that I cannot invite you to a +seat in this court." + +"By virtue of my military rank," said Florian, "I claim a seat here, +if not as judge, at least as spectator. I have come to see that the +Count de Montresor has justice." + +"There is no such person. We are to try one Motier." + +"It can be proved," said Florian, "that he is the Count de Montresor. +You yourself arrested him first as such." + +"I was mistaken," said Cazeneau. + +"As a peer of France, he can appeal to the king; and this court has +no final jurisdiction. I call all present to witness this. If my +warning is neglected here, it will be felt in a higher quarter. +Recollect, monsieur, that I shall soon be able to report to his +majesty himself. I flatter myself that my influence at court just now +is not inferior to that of the Count de Cazeneau." + +"Perhaps, monsieur," said Cazeneau, with a sneer, "you would wish to +be commandant a little longer." + +"All present," said Florian, "have heard my words. Let them remember +that the prisoner is undoubtedly the Count de Montresor, a peer of +France. Witnesses can be produced; among others, the Countess de +Montresor." + +"There is no such person," said Cazeneau, angrily. "That lady is the +Countess de Laborde." + +"She was married two nights since. All present may take warning by +what I have announced. I will say no more." + +The words of Florian had made a profound impression. It was no light +thing for a colonial court martial to deal with a peer of France. +Besides, Florian himself would soon be at court, and could tell his +own story. Cazeneau saw that a limit would be placed to his power if +he did not manage carefully. He decided to act less harshly, and with +more cunning. He therefore assumed a milder tone, assured the court +that Florian was mistaken, disclaimed any personal feeling, and +finally invited Florian to sit among the judges. Upon this Florian +took his seat. The prisoner was now brought forward, and the +witnesses prepared. + +The charges were then read. These were to the effect that he had been +captured while coming to Louisbourg under a suspicious character, +calling himself Motier, but pretending to be the son of the outlawed +De Montresor; that afterwards he had escaped from confinement, and +followed Cazeneau, upon whom he had made a murderous attack. + +Claude was then questioned. He told his story fully and frankly as +has already been stated. After a severe questioning, he was allowed +to sit down, and Pere Michel was then summoned. + +Pere Michel was first asked what he knew about the prisoner. The +priest answered, simply,-- + +"Everything." + +"What do you mean? Go on and tell what you know about him." + +Pere Michel hesitated for a moment, and then, looking at Claude, with +a face expressive of the deepest emotion, he said in a low +voice,-- + +"He is my son." + +At this declaration amazement filled all present. Claude was affected +most of all. He started to his feet, and stood gazing at Pere Michel +with wonder and incredulity. + + +[Illustration: Claude In His Father's Arms.] + + +"I don't understand," said Cazeneau; "at any rate, this shows that he +is a low-born adventurer." + +At this Pere Michel turned to Cazeneau, and said,-- + +"He is my son, yet neither low-born nor an adventurer. Do you not +know--you--who I am? Often have we seen one another face to face +within the last few weeks; and yet you have not recognized me! What! +have I so changed that not a trace of my former self is visible? Yet +what I was once you see now in my son, whom you best know to be what +he claims. Yes, gentlemen, I am Eugene, Count de Montresor, and this +is my son Claude.--Come, Claude," he continued, "come, my son, to him +who has so often yearned to take you to a father's embrace. I hoped +to defer this declaration until my name should be freed from +dishonor; but in such an hour as this I can keep silent no longer. +Yet you know, my son, that the dishonor is not real, and that in the +eyes of Heaven your father's name is pure and unsullied." + +As he said these words, he moved towards Claude. The young man stood, +as pale as death, and trembling from head to foot with excessive +agitation. He flung himself, with a low cry, into his father's arms, +and leaned his head upon his breast, and wept. The whole court was +overcome by this spectacle. There seemed something sacred in this +strange meeting of those so near, who for a lifetime had been +separated, and had at length been brought together so wonderfully. +The silence was oppressive to Cazeneau, who now felt as though all +his power was slipping away. It was broken at last by his harsh +voice. + +"It's false," he said. "The Count de Montresor has been dead for +years. It is a piece of acting that may do for the Theatre Francais, +but is absurd to sensible men. Gentlemen, these two concocted this +whole plan last night when together in their cell. I once knew old +Montresor well, and this priest has not a feature in common with +him." + +The Count de Montresor turned from his son, and faced the court. + +"Cazeneau," said he, with scornful emphasis, "now commandant of +Louisbourg, once equerry to the Count de Laborde, you never knew me +but at a distance, and as your superior. But Florian, here, remembers +me, and can testify to my truth. To this court I have only to say +that I fled to this country from the result of a plot contrived by +this villain; that on the death of my beloved wife I committed my +infant son to the care of my faithful valet,--Motier,--and became a +missionary priest. For twenty years, nearly, I have labored here +among the Acadians and Indians. This year I went to New England in +search of Motier. I had already been carrying on correspondence with +friends in France, who held out hopes that my wrongs would be +righted, and my name saved from dishonor. I did not wish to make +myself known to my son till I could give him an unsullied name. I +found Motier dead, and learned that my son was going to Louisbourg, +_en route_, to France. I asked for a passage, and was thus able to be +near my son, and study his character. It was I who saved him from +prison at Grand Pre; it was I who heard the last words of my former +enemy, Laborde; it was I who saved my son, two nights since, from +prison. He is guilty of nothing. If any one is guilty, that one am I +alone. I ask, then, that I be considered as a prisoner, and that this +innocent young man be set free. But as a peer of France, I claim to +be sent to France, where I can be tried by my peers, since this court +is one that can have no jurisdiction over one of my rank." + +Here the Count de Montresor ceased, and turning to his son, stood +conversing with him in a low whisper. + +"Every word is true," said Florian. "I assert that Pere Michel is the +Count de Montresor. I had noticed the likeness formerly; but, as I +believed the count to be dead, I thought it only accidental, until a +few days ago, when he revealed the truth to me. I recognized him by +facts and statements which he made. He has changed greatly since the +old days, yet not beyond recognition by a friend. This being the +case, then, we have nothing to do, except to send him to France by +the next ship. As to the young count, his son, I cannot see that we +have any charge against him whatever." + +All present, with one exception, had been profoundly moved by the +meeting between father and son, nor had they been much less deeply +moved by the words of the old count, which, though somewhat +incoherent, had been spoken with impressiveness and dignity. The +announcement of his lofty rank; the remembrance of his misfortunes, +of which most present had heard, and which were universally believed +to be unmerited; the assertion that Cazeneau had been the arch +villain and plotter,--all combined to increase the common feeling of +sympathy for the two before them. This feeling was deepened by +Florian's words. His influence, but recently so strong, had not yet +passed away. The new commandant, even under ordinary circumstances, +would have been unpopular; but on the present occasion he was +detested. The feeling, therefore, was general that nothing ought to +be done; and Cazeneau, his heart full of vengeance, found himself +well nigh powerless. But he was not a man who could readily give up +the purpose of his heart; and therefore he quickly seized the only +resource left him. + +"Gentlemen," said he, "we must not allow ourselves to be influenced +by purely sentimental considerations. I believe that this priest +speaks falsely, and that he has imposed upon the sympathies of M. de +Florian. Besides, he is an outlaw and a criminal in the eyes of +French justice. As to the young man, whom he calls his son, there is +the charge of a murderous assault upon me, the commandant of +Louisbourg. This must be investigated. But in the present state of +mind of those present, I despair of conducting any important trial, +and I therefore declare this court adjourned until further notice. +Guards, remove these two prisoners, and this time place them in +separate cells, where they can no longer have communication with each +other." + +To this no one raised any objection. As commandant, Cazeneau had the +right to adjourn; and, of course, until some actual decision had been +reached, he could dispose of them as he saw fit. They could only +bring a moral pressure to bear, at least for the present. Father and +son were therefore taken back to their prison, and Cazeneau quitted +the court, to take counsel with himself as to his future course. He +hoped yet to have the game in his own hands. He saw that until +Florian was gone it would be difficult, but after that he might +manage to control the opinions of the majority of the officers. +Florian, however, could not go until the next ship should arrive, and +he now awaited its coming with curiosity and eagerness. + +He did not have to wait very long. + +The court broke up, and the officers talked over the matter among +themselves. Florian was now quite communicative, and told them all +about the early career of Montresor, and his misfortunes. Cazeneau +was the evil cause of all; and Florian was bitter and unsparing in +his denunciations of this man's villany. He took care to remind them +that Mimi, though the wife of Claude, was still held by him under the +pretence that she was his ward, and that Cazeneau, being the creature +of the defunct ministry of the late Fleury, could not be kept long in +his present office by the hostile ministry which had succeeded. He +also assured them that the Montresors had friends among those now in +power, and that the old count was anxiously awaiting the arrival of +the next ship, in the confident hope that justice would at last be +done to him. + +By these words, and by this information about things unknown to +Cazeneau, Florian deepened the impression which had been made by the +events of the trial. All were desirous that the Montresors should at +last escape from the machinations of Cazeneau. All looked for the +speedy recall and disgrace of Cazeneau himself, and therefore no one +was inclined to sacrifice his feelings or convictions for the purpose +of gaining favor with one whose stay was to be merely temporary. + +While they were yet gathered together discussing these things, they +were disturbed by the report of a gun. Another followed, and yet +another. All of them hurried to the signal station, from which a view +of the harbor was commanded. + +There a noble sight appeared before their eyes. With all sail set, a +frigate came into the harbor, and then, rounding to, swept grandly up +towards the town. Gun after gun sounded, as the salute was given and +returned. After her came a schooner. + +"It's the Vengeur," said Florian. "I wonder whether Montresor will +get his despatches. Gentlemen, I must go aboard." + +With these words Florian hurried away from the citadel to the shore. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +NEWS FROM HOME. + + +Cazeneau had heard the guns, and had learned that the long-expected +frigate had arrived, together with a schooner that looked like a +prize. To him the matter afforded much gratification, since it +offered a quick and easy way of getting rid of Florian, and of making +the way easier towards the accomplishment of his own purposes. He did +not know that Florian had hurried aboard, nor, had he known, would he +have cared. For his own part he remained where he was, awaiting the +visit which the captain of the Vengeur would make, to report his +arrival. After more than two hours of waiting, it began to strike him +that the said captain was somewhat dilatory, and he began to meditate +a reprimand for such a neglect of his dignity. + +All this time had been spent by Florian on board, where he had much +to say to De Brisset, and much to ask of him and also of Margot. + +At length a boat came ashore. In the boat were Florian, De Brisset, +and Margot. On landing, these three went up to the citadel; and on +their way De Brisset was stopped by several of the officers, who were +old acquaintances, and were anxious to learn the latest news. Florian +also had much to tell them which he had just learned. While they were +talking, Margot hurried to the Residency, where she found Mimi, to +whom she gave information of a startling kind; so startling, indeed, +was it, that it acted like a powerful remedy, and roused Mimi from a +deep stupor of inconsolable grief up to life, and hope, and joy, and +strength. + +The information which De Brisset gave the officers was of the same +startling kind, and Florian was able to corroborate it by a despatch +which he had received. The despatch was to the effect that he--the +Count de Florian--was hereby reinstated in his office as commandant +of Louisbourg, and conveyed to him the flattering intelligence that +his former administration was favorably regarded by the government, +who would reward him with some higher command. With this despatch +there came also to Florian, as commandant, a warrant to arrest +Cazeneau, the late commandant, on certain charges of fraud, +peculation, and malversation in office, under the late ministry. De +Brisset also had orders to bring Cazeneau back to France in the +Vengeur. These documents were shown to the officers, who were very +earnest in their congratulations to Florian. + +There were also despatches to the Count de Montresor, the contents of +which were known to De Brisset, who also knew that he was now +laboring in the colonies as the missionary priest Pere Michel. +Florian at once took these to the prison where he was confined, +acquainted him with the change that had taken place, and set both him +and Claude free with his own hands. Then he presented the despatches. + +Pere Michel, as we may still call him, tore open the despatch with a +trembling hand, and there read that, at last, after so many years, +the wrong done him had been remedied, as far as possible; that all +his dignities were restored, together with his estates. These last +had passed to other hands, but the strong arm of the government was +even now being put forth to reclaim them, so that they might be +rendered back to the deeply injured man to whom they rightly +belonged. + +"There, my boy," said Pere Michel, as he showed it to his son, "all +is right at last; and now you can wear your name and dignity in the +face of the world, and not be ashamed." + +"O, my father!" said Claude, in a voice which was broken with +emotion, "Heaven knows I never was ashamed. I believed your +innocence, and wept over your wrongs. I am glad now, not for myself, +but for you." + +"Where is the Countess de Montresor?" said Pere Michel. "She should +not be kept in restraint any longer." + +Cazeneau all this time sat in his apartment, awaiting the arrival of +the captain of the Vengeur and the despatches. The captain at length +appeared; but with him were others, the sight of whom awakened +strange sensations in his breast. For there was Florian, and with him +was Pere Michel; Claude was there also, and beyond he saw some +soldiers. The sight was to him most appalling, and something in the +face and bearing of De Brisset and Florian was more appalling still. + +"Monsieur le Comte de Cazeneau," said Florian, "I have the honor to +present you with this commission, by which you will see that I am +reappointcd commandant of Louisbourg. I also have the honor to state +that I hold a warrant for your arrest, on certain charges specified +therein, and for sending you back to France for trial in the Vengeur, +on her return voyage." + +Cazeneau listened to this with a pallid face. + +"Impossible!" he faltered. + +"It's quite true," said De Brisset; "I also have orders to the same +effect, which I have already shown to Monsieur le Commandant Florian. +There is no possibility of any mistake, or of any resistance. You +will therefore do well to submit." + +Cazeneau had remained seated in the attitude which he had taken up, +when he expected to receive the respectful greeting of his +subordinate. The news was so sudden, and so appalling, that he +remained motionless. He sat staring, like one suddenly petrified. He +turned his eyes from one to another, but in all those faces he saw +nothing to reassure him. All were hostile except Pere Michel, who +alone looked at him without hate. The priest showed the same mild +serenity which had always distinguished him. He seemed like one who +had overcome the world, who had conquered worldly ambition and +worldly passion, and had passed beyond the reach of revenge. + +Cazeneau saw this. He rose from his seat, and fell at the feet of +Pere Michel. + +"Pardon," he faltered; "Comte de Montresor, do not pursue a fallen +man with your vengeance." + +At this unexpected exhibition, all present looked with scorn. They +had known Cazeneau to be cruel and unscrupulous; they had not +suspected that he was cowardly as well. Pere Michel also preserved an +unchanged demeanor. + +"You are mistaken, Cazeneau," he said. "I feel no desire for +vengeance. I seek none. Moreover, I have no influence or authority. +You must direct your prayers elsewhere." + +Upon this the wretched man turned to Florian. + +"Come, come," said Florian, impatiently. "This will never do. Rise, +monsieur. Remember that you are a Frenchman. Bear up like a man. For +my part, I can do nothing for you, and have to obey orders." + +Cazeneau's break down was utter, and effectually destroyed all +sympathy. His present weakness was compared with his late +vindictiveness, and he who had just refused mercy to others could +hardly gain pity on himself. He only succeeded in utterly disgracing +himself, without inspiring a particle of commiseration. Still Florian +was not cruel, and contented himself with keeping his prisoner in a +room in the Residency, satisfied that there was no possibility of +escape. Some of the officers, however, were loud in their +condemnation of Florian's mildness, and asserted that the dungeon and +the chains, which had been inflicted by him on the Montresors, should +be his doom also. But Florian thought otherwise, and held him thus a +prisoner until the Vengeur returned. Then Cazeneau was sent back to +be tried and convicted. His life was spared; but he was cast down to +hopeless degradation and want, in which state his existence +ultimately terminated. + +Before the scene with Cazeneau was over, Claude had gone away and +found his wife. Already Mimi's strength had begun to return, and her +new-born hope, and the rush of her great happiness, coming, as it +did, after so much misery and despair, served to restore her rapidly. + +"I should have died if this had lasted one day more," said she. + +"But now it is all over, Mimi, dearest," said Claude, "and you must +live for me. This moment repays me for all my sufferings." + +"And for mine," sighed Mimi. + +Margot saw that her mistress had for the present an attendant who was +more serviceable than herself, and now all her thoughts turned to +that faithful friend whom she had been compelled for the time to +leave, but whom she had not for one moment forgotten. She waited +patiently till she could get a chance to speak to Claude, and then +told him what he did not know yet--that Zac was still a prisoner. At +that intelligence, his own happiness did not allow him to delay to +serve his friend. He at once hurried forth to see De Brisset. To him +he explained Zac's position in such forcible language, that De +Brisset at once issued an order for the release of himself and his +schooner, without any conditions, and the recall of his seamen. To +make the act more complete, the order was committed to Margot, who +was sent in the ship's boat to the schooner. + +On the arrival of this boat, Zac seemed quite indifferent to the +safety of the schooner, and only aware of the presence of Margot. He +held her hand, and stood looking at her with moistened eyes, until +after the seamen of the Vengeur had gone. Terry looked away; Jericho +vanished below, with vague plans about a great supper. Biler gazed +upon Louisbourg with a pensive eye and a half-eaten turnip. + +"I knowed you'd be back, little un," said Zac; "I felt it; an', now +you've come, don't go away agin." + +"O, but I haf to go to ze comtesse," said Margot; "zat ees--to-day--" + +"Go back to the countess! Why, you ain't goin' to give me up--air +you?" said Zac, dolefully. + +"O, no, not eef you don't want me to," said Margot. "But to-day I +moos go to ze comtesse, an' afterward you sall ask her, eef you want +me." + +At this, which was spoken in a timid, hesitating way, Zac took her in +his arms, and gave her a tremendous smack, which Terry tried hard not +to hear. + +"Wal," said he, "thar's Pere Michel, that's a Moosoo an' a Roman +Catholic; but he'll do." + +"O, but you moos not talk of Pere Michel till you see ze comtesse," +said Margot; "an' now I sall tank you to take me back to her, or send +me back by one of de men." + +Zac did not send her back, but took her back to the shore himself. +Then the fortifications of Louisbourg--the dread and bugbear of all +New England--closed him in; but Zac noticed nothing of these. It was +only Margot whom he saw; and he took her to the citadel, to the +Residency. On his arrival, Claude came forth to greet him, with +beaming eyes and open arms. Pere Michel greeted him, also, with +affectionate cordiality. For the simple Yankee had won the priest's +heart, as well on account of his own virtues as for his son's sake. +He also took enough interest in him to note his dealings with Margot, +and to suggest to him, in a sly way, that, under the circumstances, +although Zac was a bigoted Protestant, a Roman Catholic priest could +do just as well as a Protestant parson. Whereupon Zac went off with a +broad grin, that lasted for weeks. + +The postponement of Florian's departure caused some disappointment to +that worthy gentleman, which, however, was alleviated by the thought +that he had been able to benefit his injured friend, and bring a +villain to punishment; and also by the thought that his departure to +France would not be long delayed. To those friends he devoted +himself, and sought by every means in his power to make their +recollections of Louisbourg more pleasant than they had thus far +been. Claude, and his bride, and his father were honored guests at +the Residency, where they were urged to remain as long as they could +content themselves, and until they could decide about their future +movements. + +For now, though the name of Montresor had been redeemed, and justice +had at last been done, it was not easy for them to decide about their +future movements. Pere Michel, after some thought, had at length made +up his mind, and had given Claude the benefit of his opinion and his +advice. + +"I have made up my mind," said he. "I will never go back to France. +What can I do in France? As a French noble, I should be powerless; as +a priest, useless. France is corrupt to the heart's core. The +government is corrupt. The whole head is sick, the whole heart faint. +Ministry succeeds to ministry, not by means of ability, not from +patriotism or a public spirit, but simply through corrupt favoritism. +There are no statesmen in France. They are all courtiers. In that +court every man is ready to sell himself for money. There is no sense +of honor. At the head of all is the worst of all, the king himself, +who sets an example of sin and iniquity, which is followed by all the +nation. The peasantry are slaves, trodden in the dust, without hope +and without spirit. The nobles are obsequious time-servers and +place-hunters. The old sentiment of chivalry is dead. I will never go +to such a country. Here, in this land, where I have lived the best +part of my life, I intend to remain, to labor among these simple +Acadians, and these children of the forest, and to die among them. + +"As for you, my son, France is no place for you. The proper place for +you, if you wish to lead a virtuous and honorable life, is among the +people who look upon you as one of themselves, with whom you have +been brought up. Your religion, my son, is different from mine; but +we worship the same God, believe in the same Bible, put our trust in +the same Saviour, and hope for the same heaven. What can France give +you that can be equal to what you have in New England? She can give +you simply honors, but with these the deadly poison of her own +corruption, and a future full of awful peril. But in New England you +have a virgin country. There all men are free. There you have no +nobility. There are no down-trodden peasants, but free farmers. Every +man has his own rights, and knows how to maintain them. You have been +brought up to be the free citizen of a free country. Enough. Why wish +to be a noble in a nation of slaves? Take your name of Montresor, if +you wish. It is yours now, and free from stain. Remember, also, if +you wish, the glory of your ancestors, and let that memory inspire +you to noble actions. But remain in New England, and cast in your lot +with the citizens of your own free, adopted land." + +Such were the words of the priest, and Claude's training had been +such that they chimed in altogether with his own tastes. He did not +feel himself entirely capable of playing the part of a noble in such +a country as that France which his father described; of associating +with such a society, or of courting the favor of such a king. +Besides, his religion was the religion of his mother: and her fate +was a sufficient warning. And so it was that Claude resolved to give +up all thoughts of France, and return to the humble New England farm. +If from the wreck of the Montresor fortunes anything should be +restored, he felt that he could employ it better in his own home than +in the home of his fathers; while the estate of Laborde, which Mimi +would inherit, would double his own means, and give him new +resources. + +This, then, was his final decision; and, though it caused much +surprise to Florian, he did not attempt to oppose it. Mimi raised no +objection. She had no ties in France; and wherever her husband might +be was welcome to her. And so Zac was informed that Claude would hire +his schooner once more, to convey himself and his wife back to +Boston, together with his father, who, at their urgent solicitation, +consented to pay them a visit. + +But Zac had purposes of his own, which had to be accomplished before +setting forth on his return. He wished to secure the services of Pere +Michel, which services were readily offered; and Zac and Margot were +made one in the very chapel which had witnessed the marriage of +Claude and Mimi. + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Lily and the Cross, by James De Mille + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LILY AND THE CROSS *** + +***** This file should be named 31096.txt or 31096.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/0/9/31096/ + +Produced by Marlo Dianne + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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