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diff --git a/6229-h/6229-h.htm b/6229-h/6229-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ad6af61 --- /dev/null +++ b/6229-h/6229-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,15013 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Seats of the Mighty, by Gilbert Parker + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +Project Gutenberg's The Seats Of The Mighty, Complete, by Gilbert Parker + +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 Seats Of The Mighty, Complete + +Author: Gilbert Parker + +Release Date: October 18, 2006 [EBook #6229] +Last Updated: August 27, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY, COMPLETE *** + + + +Produced by Andrew Sly, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1> + THE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY + </h1> + <h3> + BEING THE MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN ROBERT MORAY, SOMETIME AN OFFICER IN THE + VIRGINIA REGIMENT, AND AFTERWARDS OF AMHERST’S REGIMENT + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Gilbert Parker + </h2> + <h3> + To the Memory of Madge Henley. + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_INTR"> INTRODUCTION TO THE IMPERIAL EDITION </a><br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I. </a> AN ESCORT TO THE CITADEL + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II. </a> THE MASTER OF + THE KING’S MAGAZINE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III. </a> THE + WAGER AND THE SWORD <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV. </a> THE + RAT IN THE TRAP <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V. </a> THE + DEVICE OF THE DORMOUSE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VI. </a> MORAY + TELLS THE STORY OF HIS LIFE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VII. + </a> "QUOTH LITTLE GARAINE” <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0009"> VIII. </a> AS VAIN AS ABSALOM <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> IX. </a> A LITTLE CONCERNING THE + CHEVALIER DE LA DARANTE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> X. </a> AN + OFFICER OF MARINES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> XI. </a> THE + COMING OF DOLTAIRE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XII. </a> "THE + POINT ENVENOMED TOO!” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XIII. </a> "A + LITTLE BOAST” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XIV. </a> ARGAND + COURNAL. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> XV. </a> IN THE + CHAMBER OF TORTURE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> XVI. </a> BE + SAINT OR IMP <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> XVII. </a> THROUGH + THE BARS OF THE CAGE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> XVIII. </a> THE + STEEP PATH OF CONQUEST <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> XIX. </a> A + DANSEUSE AND THE BASTILE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> XX. </a> UPON + THE RAMPARTS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> XXI. </a> LA + JONGLEUSE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> XXII. </a> THE + LORD OF KAMARSKA <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> XXIII. </a> WITH + WOLFE AT MONTMORENCI. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> XXIV. </a> THE + SACRED COUNTERSIGN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> XXV. </a> IN + THE CATHEDRAL. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> XXVI. </a> THE + SECRET OF THE TAPESTRY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> XXVII. </a> A + SIDE-WIND OF REVENGE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> XXVIII. </a> "TO + CHEAT THE DEVIL YET.” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> XXIX. </a> "MASTER + DEVIL” DOLTAIRE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> XXX. </a> "WHERE + ALL THE LOVERS CAN HIDE” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_APPE"> APPENDIX. + </a> <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + INTRODUCTION TO THE IMPERIAL EDITION + </h2> + <p> + It was in the winter of 1892, when on a visit to French Canada, that I + made up my mind I would write the volume which the public knows as ‘The + Seats of the Mighty,’ but I did not begin the composition until early in + 1894. It was finished by the beginning of February, 1895, and began to + appear in ‘The Atlantic Monthly’ in March of that year. It was not my + first attempt at historical fiction, because I had written ‘The Trail of + the Sword’ in the year 1893, but it was the first effort on an ambitious + scale, and the writing of it was attended with as much searching of heart + as enthusiasm. I had long been saturated by the early history of French + Canada, as perhaps ‘The Trail of the Sword’ bore witness, and particularly + of the period of the Conquest, and I longed for a subject which would, in + effect, compel me to write; for I have strong views upon this business of + compulsion in the mind of the writer. Unless a thing has seized a man, has + obsessed him, and he feels that it excludes all other temptations to his + talent or his genius, his book will not convince. Before all else he must + himself be overpowered by the insistence of his subject, then intoxicated + with his idea, and, being still possessed, become master of his material + while remaining the slave of his subject. I believe that every book which + has taken hold of the public has represented a kind of self-hypnotism on + the part of the writer. I am further convinced that the book which absorbs + the author, which possesses him as he writes it, has the effect of + isolating him into an atmosphere which is not sleep, and which is not + absolute wakefulness, but a place between the two, where the working world + is indistinct and the mind is swept along a flood submerging the + self-conscious but not drowning into unconsciousness. + </p> + <p> + Such, at any rate, is my own experience. I am convinced that the books of + mine which have had so many friends as this book, ‘The Seats of the + Mighty’, has had in the English-speaking world were written in just such + conditions of temperamental isolation or absorption. First the subject, + which must of itself have driving power, then the main character, which + becomes a law working out its own destiny; and the subject in my own work + has always been translatable into a phrase. Nearly every one of my books + has always been reducible to its title. + </p> + <p> + For years I had wished to write an historical novel of the conquest of + Canada or the settlement of the United Empire loyalists and the subsequent + War of 1812, but the central idea and the central character had not come + to me; and without both and the driving power of a big idea and of a big + character, a book did not seem to me possible. The human thing with the + grip of real life was necessary. At last, as pointed out in the prefatory + note of the first edition, published in the spring of 1896 by Messrs. D. + Appleton & Co., of New York, and Messrs. Methuen & Co., of London, + I ran across a tiny little volume in the library of Mr. George M. + Fairchild, Jr., of Quebec, called the Memoirs of Major Robert Stobo. It + was published by John S. Davidson, of Market Street, Pittsburgh, with an + introduction by an editor who signed himself “N. B.C.” + </p> + <p> + The Memoirs proper contained about seventeen thousand words, the remaining + three thousand words being made up of abstracts and appendices collected + by the editor. The narrative was written in a very ornate and + grandiloquent style, but the hero of the memoirs was so evidently a man of + remarkable character, enterprise and adventure, that I saw in the few + scattered bones of the story which he unfolded the skeleton of an ample + historical romance. There was necessary to offset this buoyant and + courageous Scotsman, adventurous and experienced, a character of the race + which captured him and held him in leash till just before the taking of + Quebec. I therefore found in the character of Doltaire—which was the + character of Voltaire spelled with a big D—purely a creature of the + imagination, one who, as the son of a peasant woman and Louis XV, should + be an effective offset to Major Stobo. There was no hint of Doltaire in + the Memoirs. There could not be, nor of the plot on which the story was + based, because it was all imagination. Likewise, there was no mention of + Alixe Duvarney in the Memoirs, nor of Bigot or Madame Cournal and all the + others. They too, when not characters of the imagination, were lifted out + of the history of the time; but the first germ of the story came from ‘The + Memoirs of Robert Stobo’, and when ‘The Seats of the Mighty’ was first + published in ‘The Atlantic Monthly’ the subtitle contained these words: + “Being the Memoirs of Captain Robert Stobo, sometime an officer in the + Virginia Regiment, and afterwards of Amherst’s Regiment.” + </p> + <p> + When the book was published, however, I changed the name of Robert Stobo + to Robert Moray, because I felt I had no right to saddle Robert Stobo’s + name with all the incidents and experiences and strange enterprises which + the novel contained. I did not know then that perhaps it might be + considered an honour by Robert Stobo’s descendants to have his name + retained. I could not foresee the extraordinary popularity of ‘The Seats + of the Mighty’, but with what I thought was a sense of honour I eliminated + his name and changed it to Robert Moray. ‘The Seats of the Mighty’ goes + on, I am happy to say, with an ever-increasing number of friends. It has a + position perhaps not wholly deserved, but it has crystallised some + elements in the life of the continent of America, the history of France + and England, and of the British Empire which may serve here and there to + inspire the love of things done for the sake of a nation rather than for + the welfare of an individual. + </p> + <p> + I began this introduction by saying that the book was started in the + summer of 1894. That was at a little place called Mablethorpe in + Lincolnshire, on the east coast of England. For several months I worked in + absolute seclusion in that out-of-the-way spot which had not then become a + Mecca for trippers, and on the wonderful sands, stretching for miles upon + miles coastwise and here and there as much as a mile out to the sea, I + tried to live over again the days of Wolfe and Montcalm. Appropriately + enough the book was begun in a hotel at Mablethorpe called “The Book in + Hand.” The name was got, I believe, from the fact that, in a far-off day, + a ship was wrecked upon the coast at Mablethorpe, and the only person + saved was the captain, who came ashore with a Bible in his hands. During + the writing now and again a friend would come to me from London or + elsewhere, and there would be a day off, full of literary tattle, but + immediately my friends were gone I was lost again in the atmosphere of the + middle of the eighteenth century. + </p> + <p> + I stayed at Mablethorpe until the late autumn, and then I went to + Harrogate, exchanging the sea for the moors, and there, still living the + open-air life, I remained for several months until I had finished the + book. The writing of it knew no interruption and was happily set. It was a + thing apart, and not a single untoward invasion of other interests + affected its course. + </p> + <p> + The title of the book was for long a trouble to me. Months went by before + I could find what I wanted. Scores of titles occurred to me, but each was + rejected. At last, one day when I was being visited by Mr. Grant Richards, + since then a London publisher, but at that time a writer, who had come to + interview me for ‘Great Thoughts’, I told him of my difficulties regarding + the title. I was saying that I felt the title should be, as it were, the + kernel of a book. I said: “You see, it is a struggle of one simple girl + against principalities and powers; it is the final conquest of the good + over the great. In other words, the book will be an illustration of the + text, ‘He has put down the mighty from their seats, and has exalted the + humble and meek.’” Then, like a flash, the title came ‘The Seats of the + Mighty’. + </p> + <p> + Since the phrase has gone into the language and was from the very first a + popular title, it seems strange that the literary director of the American + firm that published the book should take strong exception to it on the + ground that it was grandiloquent. I like to think that I was firm, and + that I declined to change the title. + </p> + <p> + I need say no more save that the book was dramatised by myself, and + produced, first at Washington by Herbert (now Sir Herbert) Beerbohm Tree + in the winter of 1897 and 1898, and in the spring of 1898 it opened his + new theatre in London. + </p> + <p> + PREFATORY NOTE TO FIRST EDITION + </p> + <p> + This tale would never have been written had it not been for the kindness + of my distinguished friend Dr. John George Bourinot, C.M.G., of Ottawa, + whose studies in parliamentary procedure, the English and Canadian + Constitutions, and the history and development of Canada have been of + singular benefit to the Dominion and to the Empire. Through Dr. Bourinot’s + good offices I came to know Mr. James Lemoine, of Quebec, the gifted + antiquarian, and President of the Royal Society of Canada. Mr. Lemoine + placed in my hands certain historical facts suggestive of romance. + Subsequently, Mr. George M. Fairchild, Jr., of Cap Rouge, Quebec, whose + library contains a valuable collection of antique Canadian books, maps, + and prints, gave me generous assistance and counsel, allowing me “the run” + of all his charts, prints, histories, and memoirs. Many of these prints, + and a rare and authentic map of Wolfe’s operations against Quebec are now + reproduced in this novel, and may be considered accurate illustrations of + places, people, and events. By the insertion of these faithful historical + elements it is hoped to give more vividness to the atmosphere of the time, + and to strengthen the verisimilitude of a piece of fiction which is not, I + believe, out of harmony with fact. + </p> + <p> + Gilbert Parker + </p> + <p> + PRELUDE + </p> + <p> + To Sir Edward Seaforth, Bart., of Sangley Hope in Derbyshire, and Seaforth + House in Hanover Square. + </p> + <p> + Dear Ned: You will have them written, or I shall be pestered to my grave! + Is that the voice of a friend of so long standing? And yet it seems but + yesterday since we had good hours in Virginia together, or met among the + ruins of Quebec. My memoirs—these only will content you? And to + flatter or cajole me, you tell me Mr. Pitt still urges on the matter. In + truth, when he touched first upon this, I thought it but the courtesy of a + great and generous man. But indeed I am proud that he is curious to know + more of my long captivity at Quebec, of Monsieur Doltaire and all his + dealings with me, and the motions he made to serve La Pompadour on one + hand, and, on the other, to win from me that most perfect of ladies, + Mademoiselle Alixe Duvarney. + </p> + <p> + Our bright conquest of Quebec is now heroic memory, and honour and fame + and reward have been parcelled out. So I shall but briefly, in these + memoirs (ay, they shall be written, and with a good heart), travel the + trail of history, or discourse upon campaigns and sieges, diplomacies and + treaties. I shall keep close to my own story; for that, it would seem, + yourself and the illustrious minister of the King most wish to hear. Yet + you will find figuring in it great men like our flaming hero General + Wolfe, and also General Montcalm, who, I shall ever keep on saying, might + have held Quebec against us, had he not been balked by the vain Governor, + the Marquis de Vaudreuil; together with such notorious men as the + Intendant Bigot, civil governor of New France, and such noble gentlemen as + the Seigneur Duvarney, father of Alixe. + </p> + <p> + I shall never view again the citadel on those tall heights where I was + detained so barbarously, nor the gracious Manor House at Beauport, sacred + to me because of her who dwelt therein—how long ago, how long! Of + all the pictures that flash before my mind when I think on those times, + one is most with me: that of the fine guest-room in the Manor House, where + I see moving the benign maid whose life and deeds alone can make this + story worth telling. And with one scene therein, and it the most momentous + in all my days, I shall begin my tale. + </p> + <p> + I beg you convey to Mr. Pitt my most obedient compliments, and say that I + take his polite wish as my command. + </p> + <p> + With every token of my regard, I am, dear Ned, affectionately your friend, + </p> + <p> + Robert Moray + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + I. AN ESCORT TO THE CITADEL + </h2> + <p> + When Monsieur Doltaire entered the salon, and, dropping lazily into a + chair beside Madame Duvarney and her daughter, drawled out, “England’s + Braddock—fool and general—has gone to heaven, Captain Moray, + and your papers send you there also,” I did not shift a jot, but looked + over at him gravely—for, God knows, I was startled—and I said, + </p> + <p> + “The General is dead?” + </p> + <p> + I did not dare to ask, Is he defeated? though from Doltaire’s look I was + sure it was so, and a sickness crept through me, for at the moment that + seemed the end of our cause. But I made as if I had not heard his words + about my papers. + </p> + <p> + “Dead as a last years courtier, shifted from the scene,” he replied; “and + having little now to do, we’ll go play with the rat in our trap.” + </p> + <p> + I would not have dared look towards Alixe, standing beside her mother + then, for the song in my blood was pitched too high, were it not that a + little sound broke from her. At that, I glanced, and saw that her face was + still and quiet, but her eyes were shining, and her whole body seemed + listening. I dared not give my glance meaning, though I wished to do so. + She had served me much, had been a good friend to me, since I was brought + a hostage to Quebec from Fort Necessity. There, at that little post on the + Ohio, France threw down the gauntlet, and gave us the great Seven Years + War. And though it may be thought I speak rashly, the lever to spring that + trouble had been within my grasp. Had France sat still while Austria and + Prussia quarreled, that long fighting had never been. The game of war had + lain with the Grande Marquise—or La Pompadour, as she was called—and + later it may be seen how I, unwillingly, moved her to set it going. + </p> + <p> + Answering Monsieur Doltaire, I said stoutly, “I am sure he made a good + fight; he had gallant men.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly gallant,” he returned—“your own Virginians among others” (I + bowed); “but he was a blunderer, as were you also, monsieur, or you had + not sent him plans of our forts and letters of such candour. They have + gone to France, my captain.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Duvarney seemed to stiffen in her chair, for what did this mean but + that I was a spy? and the young lady behind them now put her handkerchief + to her mouth as if to stop a word. To make light of the charges against + myself was the only thing, and yet I had little heart to do so. There was + that between Monsieur Doltaire and myself—a matter I shall come to + by-and-bye—which well might make me apprehensive. + </p> + <p> + “My sketch and my gossip with my friends,” said I, “can have little + interest in France.” + </p> + <p> + “My faith, the Grande Marquise will find a relish for them,” he said + pointedly at me. He, the natural son of King Louis, had played the part + between La Pompadour and myself in the grave matter of which I spoke. “She + loves deciding knotty points of morality,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “She has had chance and will enough,” said I boldly, “but what point of + morality is here?” + </p> + <p> + “The most vital—to you,” he rejoined, flicking his handkerchief a + little, and drawling so that I could have stopped his mouth with my hand. + “Shall a hostage on parole make sketches of a fort and send them to his + friends, who in turn pass them on to a foolish general?” + </p> + <p> + “When one party to an Article of War brutally breaks his sworn promise, + shall the other be held to his?” I asked quietly. + </p> + <p> + I was glad that, at this moment, the Seigneur Duvarney entered, for I + could feel the air now growing colder about Madame his wife. He, at least, + was a good friend; but as I glanced at him, I saw his face was troubled + and his manner distant. He looked at Monsieur Doltaire a moment steadily, + stooped to his wife’s hand, and then offered me his own without a word; + which done, he went to where his daughter stood. She kissed him, and, as + she did so, whispered something in his ear, to which he nodded assent. I + knew afterwards that she had asked him to keep me to dinner with them. + </p> + <p> + Presently turning to Monsieur Doltaire, he said inquiringly, “You have a + squad of men outside my house, Doltaire?” + </p> + <p> + Doltaire nodded in a languid way, and answered, “An escort—for + Captain Moray—to the citadel.” + </p> + <p> + I knew now, as he had said, that I was in the trap; that he had begun the + long sport which came near to giving me the white shroud of death, as it + turned white the hair upon my head ere I was thirty-two. Do I not know, + the indignities, the miseries I suffered, I owed mostly to him, and that + at the last he nearly robbed England of her greatest pride, the taking of + New France?—For chance sometimes lets humble men like me balance the + scales of fate; and I was humble enough in rank, if in spirit always + something above my place. + </p> + <p> + I was standing as he spoke these words, and I turned to him and said, + “Monsieur, I am at your service.” + </p> + <p> + “I have sometimes wished,” he said instantly, and with a courteous if + ironical gesture, “that you were in my service—that is, the King’s.” + </p> + <p> + I bowed as to a compliment, for I would not see the insolence, and I + retorted, “Would I could offer you a company in my Virginia regiment!” + </p> + <p> + “Delightful! delightful!” he rejoined. “I should make as good a Briton as + you a Frenchman, every whit.” + </p> + <p> + I suppose he would have kept leading to such silly play, had I not turned + to Madame Duvarney and said, “I am most sorry that this mishap falls here; + but it is not of my doing, and in colder comfort, Madame, I shall recall + the good hours spent in your home.” + </p> + <p> + I think I said it with a general courtesy, yet, feeling the eyes of the + young lady on me, perhaps a little extra warmth came into my voice, and + worked upon Madame, or it may be she was glad of my removal from contact + with her daughter; but kindness showed in her face, and she replied + gently, “I am sure it is only for a few days till we see you again.” + </p> + <p> + Yet I think in her heart she knew my life was perilled: those were rough + and hasty times, when the axe or the rope was the surest way to deal with + troubles. Three years before, at Fort Necessity, I had handed my sword to + my lieutenant, bidding him make healthy use of it, and, travelling to + Quebec on parole, had come in and out of this house with great freedom. + Yet since Alixe had grown towards womanhood there had been strong change + in Madame’s manner. + </p> + <p> + “The days, however few, will be too long until I tax your courtesy again,” + I said. “I bid you adieu, Madame.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, not so,” spoke up my host; “not one step: dinner is nearly served, + and you must both dine with us. Nay, but I insist,” he added, as he saw me + shake my head. “Monsieur Doltaire will grant you this courtesy, and me the + great kindness. Eh, Doltaire?” + </p> + <p> + Doltaire rose, glancing from Madame to her daughter. Madame was smiling, + as if begging his consent; for, profligate though he was, his position, + and more than all, his personal distinction, made him a welcome guest at + most homes in Quebec. Alixe met his look without a yes or no in her eyes—so + young, yet having such control and wisdom, as I have had reason beyond all + men to know. Something, however, in the temper of the scene had filled her + with a kind of glow, which added to her beauty and gave her dignity. The + spirit of her look caught the admiration of this expatriated courtier, and + I knew that a deeper cause than all our past conflicts—and they were + great—would now, or soon, set him fatally against me. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be happy to wait Captain Moray’s pleasure,” he said presently, + “and to serve my own by sitting at your table. I was to have dined with + the Intendant this afternoon, but a messenger shall tell him duty stays + me.... If you will excuse me!” he added, going to the door to find a man + of his company. He looked back for an instant, as if it struck him I might + seek escape, for he believed in no man’s truth; but he only said, “I may + fetch my men to your kitchen, Duvarney? ‘Tis raw outside.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely. I shall see they have some comfort,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + Doltaire then left the room, and Duvarney came to me. “This is a bad + business, Moray,” he said sadly. “There is some mistake, is there not?” + </p> + <p> + I looked him fair in the face. “There is a mistake,” I answered. “I am no + spy, and I do not fear that I shall lose my life, my honour, or my friends + by offensive acts of mine.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you,” he responded, “as I have believed since you came, though + there has been gabble of your doings. I do not forget you bought my life + back from those wild Mohawks five years ago. You have my hand in trouble + or out of it.” + </p> + <p> + Upon my soul, I could have fallen on his neck, for the blow to our cause + and the shadow on my own fate oppressed me for the moment. + </p> + <p> + At this point the ladies left the room to make some little toilette before + dinner, and as they passed me the sleeve of Alixe’s dress touched my arm. + I caught her fingers for an instant, and to this day I can feel that warm, + rich current of life coursing from finger-tips to heart. She did not look + at me at all, but passed on after her mother. Never till that moment had + there been any open show of heart between us. When I first came to Quebec + (I own it to my shame) I was inclined to use her youthful friendship for + private and patriotic ends; but that soon passed, and then I wished her + companionship for true love of her. Also, I had been held back because + when I first knew her she seemed but a child. Yet how quickly and how + wisely did she grow out of her childhood! She had a playful wit, and her + talents were far beyond her years. It amazed me often to hear her sum up a + thing in some pregnant sentence which, when you came to think, was the one + word to be said. She had such a deep look out of her blue eyes that you + scarcely glanced from them to see the warm sweet colour of her face, the + fair broad forehead, the brown hair, the delicate richness of her lips, + which ever were full of humour and of seriousness—both running + together, as you may see a laughing brook steal into the quiet of a river. + </p> + <p> + Duvarney and I were thus alone for a moment, and he straightway dropped a + hand upon my shoulder. “Let me advise you,” he said, “be friendly with + Doltaire. He has great influence at the Court and elsewhere. He can make + your bed hard or soft at the citadel.” + </p> + <p> + I smiled at him, and replied, “I shall sleep no less sound because of + Monsieur Doltaire.” + </p> + <p> + “You are bitter in your trouble,” said he. + </p> + <p> + I made haste to answer, “No, no, my own troubles do not weigh so heavy—but + our General’s death!” + </p> + <p> + “You are a patriot, my friend,” he added warmly. “I could well have been + content with our success against your English army without this deep + danger to your person.” + </p> + <p> + I put out my hand to him, but I did not speak, for just then Doltaire + entered. He was smiling at something in his thought. + </p> + <p> + “The fortunes are with the Intendant always,” said he. “When things are at + their worst, and the King’s storehouse, the dear La Friponne, is to be + ripped by our rebel peasants like a sawdust doll, here comes this gay news + of our success on the Ohio; and in that Braddock’s death the whining + beggars will forget their empty bellies, and bless where they meant to + curse. What fools, to be sure! They had better loot La Friponne. Lord, how + we love fighting, we French! And ‘tis so much easier to dance, or drink, + or love.” He stretched out his shapely legs as he sat musing. + </p> + <p> + Duvarney shrugged a shoulder, smiling. “But you, Doltaire—there’s no + man out of France that fights more.” + </p> + <p> + He lifted an eyebrow. “One must be in the fashion; besides, it does need + some skill to fight. The others—to dance, drink, love: blind men’s + games!” He smiled cynically into the distance. + </p> + <p> + I have never known a man who interested me so much—never one so + original, so varied, and so uncommon in his nature. I marvelled at the + pith and depth of his observations; for though I agreed not with him once + in ten times, I loved his great reflective cleverness and his fine + penetration—singular gifts in a man of action. But action to him was + a playtime; he had that irresponsibility of the Court from which he came, + its scornful endurance of defeat or misery, its flippant look upon the + world, its scoundrel view of women. Then he and Duvarney talked, and I sat + thinking. Perhaps the passion of a cause grows in you as you suffer for + it, and I had suffered, and suffered most by a bitter inaction. Governor + Dinwiddie, Mr. Washington (alas that, as I write the fragment chapters of + my life, among the hills where Montrose my ancestor fought, George leads + the colonists against the realm of England!), and the rest were suffering, + but they were fighting too. Brought to their knees, they could rise again + to battle; and I thought then, How more glorious to be with my gentlemen + in blue from Virginia, holding back death from the General, and at last + falling myself, than to spend good years a hostage at Quebec, knowing that + Canada was for our taking, yet doing nothing to advance the hour! + </p> + <p> + In the thick of these thoughts I was not conscious of what the two were + saying, but at last I caught Madame Cournal’s name; by which I guessed + Monsieur Doltaire was talking of her amours, of which the chief and final + was with Bigot the Intendant, to whom the King had given all civil + government, all power over commerce and finance in the country. The + rivalry between the Governor and the Intendant was keen and vital at this + time, though it changed later, as I will show. At her name I looked up and + caught Monsieur Doltaire’s eye. + </p> + <p> + He read my thoughts. “You have had blithe hours here, monsieur,” he said—“you + know the way to probe us; but of all the ladies who could be most useful + to you, you left out the greatest. There you erred. I say it as a friend, + not as an officer, there you erred. From Madame Cournal to Bigot, from + Bigot to Vaudreuil the Governor, from the Governor to France. But now—” + </p> + <p> + He paused, for Madame Duvarney and her daughter had come, and we all rose. + </p> + <p> + The ladies had heard enough to know Doltaire’s meaning. “But now—Captain + Moray dines with us,” said Madame Duvarney quietly and meaningly. + </p> + <p> + “Yet I dine with Madame Cournal,” rejoined Doltaire, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “One may use more option with enemies and prisoners,” she said keenly, and + the shot ought to have struck home. In so small a place it was not easy to + draw lines close and fine, and it was in the power of the Intendant, + backed by his confederates, to ruin almost any family in the province if + he chose; and that he chose at times I knew well, as did my hostess. Yet + she was a woman of courage and nobility of thought, and I knew well where + her daughter got her good flavor of mind. + </p> + <p> + I could see something devilish in the smile at Doltaire’s lip’s, but his + look was wandering between Alixe and me, and he replied urbanely, “I have + ambition yet—to connive at captivity”; and then he looked full and + meaningly at her. + </p> + <p> + I can see her now, her hand on the high back of a great oak chair, the + lace of her white sleeve falling away, and her soft arm showing, her eyes + on his without wavering. They did not drop, nor turn aside; they held + straight on, calm, strong—and understanding. By that look I saw she + read him; she, who had seen so little of the world, felt what he was, and + met his invading interest firmly, yet sadly; for I knew long after that a + smother was at her heart then, foreshadowings of dangers that would try + her as few women are tried. Thank God that good women are born with + greater souls for trial than men; that, given once an anchor for their + hearts, they hold until the cables break. + </p> + <p> + When we were about to enter the dining-room, I saw, to my joy, Madame + incline towards Doltaire, and I knew that Alixe was for myself—though + her mother wished it little, I am sure. As she took my arm, her + finger-tips plunged softly into the velvet of my sleeve, giving me a + thrill of courage. I felt my spirits rise, and I set myself to carry + things off gaily, to have this last hour with her clear of gloom, for it + seemed easy to think that we should meet no more. + </p> + <p> + As we passed into the dining-room, I said, as I had said the first time I + went to dinner in her father’s house, “Shall we be flippant, or grave?” + </p> + <p> + I guessed that it would touch her. She raised her eyes to mine and + answered, “We are grave; let us seem flippant.” + </p> + <p> + In those days I had a store of spirits. I was seldom dismayed, for life + had been such a rough-and-tumble game that I held to cheerfulness and + humour as a hillsman to his broadsword, knowing it the greatest of weapons + with a foe, and the very stone and mortar of friendship. So we were gay, + touching lightly on events around us, laughing at gossip of the doorways + (I in my poor French), casting small stones at whatever drew our notice, + not forgetting a throw or two at Chateau Bigot, the Intendant’s country + house at Charlesbourg, five miles away, where base plots were hatched, + reputations soiled, and all clean things dishonoured. But Alixe, the + sweetest soul France ever gave the world, could not know all I knew; + guessing only at heavy carousals, cards, song, and raillery, with far-off + hints of feet lighter than fit in cavalry boots dancing among the glasses + on the table. I was never before so charmed with her swift intelligence, + for I never had great nimbleness of thought, nor power to make nice play + with the tongue. + </p> + <p> + “You have been three years with us,” suddenly said her father, passing me + the wine. “How time has flown! How much has happened!” + </p> + <p> + “Madame Cournal’s husband has made three million francs,” said Doltaire, + with dry irony and truth. + </p> + <p> + Duvarney shrugged a shoulder, stiffened; for, oblique as the suggestion + was, he did not care to have his daughter hear it. + </p> + <p> + “And Vaudreuil has sent bees buzzing to Versailles about Bigot and + Company,” added the impish satirist. + </p> + <p> + Madame Duvarney responded with a look of interest, and the Seigneur’s eyes + steadied to his plate. All at once by that I saw the Seigneur had known of + the Governor’s action, and maybe had counseled with him, siding against + Bigot. If that were so—as it proved to be—he was in a nest of + scorpions; for who among them would spare him: Marin, Cournal, Rigaud, the + Intendant himself? Such as he were thwarted right and left in this career + of knavery and public evils. + </p> + <p> + “And our people have turned beggars; poor and starved, they beg at the + door of the King’s storehouse—it is well called La Friponne,” said + Madame Duvarney, with some heat; for she was ever liberal to the poor, and + she had seen manor after manor robbed, and peasant farmers made to sell + their corn for a song, to be sold to them again at famine prices by La + Friponne. Even now Quebec was full of pilgrim poor begging against the + hard winter, and execrating their spoilers. + </p> + <p> + Doltaire was too fond of digging at the heart of things not to admit she + spoke truth. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “La Pompadour et La Friponne! + Qu’est que cela, mon petit homme?” + “Les deux terribles, ma chere mignonne, + Mais, c’est cela— + La Pompadour et La Friponne!” + </pre> + <p> + He said this with cool drollery and point, in the patois of the native, so + that he set us all laughing, in spite of our mutual apprehensions. + </p> + <p> + Then he continued, “And the King has sent a chorus to the play, with eyes + for the preposterous make-believe, and more, no purse to fill.” + </p> + <p> + We all knew he meant himself, and we knew also that so far as money went + he spoke true; that though hand-in-glove with Bigot, he was poor, save for + what he made at the gaming-table and got from France. There was the thing + that might have clinched me to him, had matters been other than they were; + for all my life I have loathed the sordid soul, and I would rather, in + these my ripe years, eat with a highwayman who takes his life in his hands + than with the civilian who robs his king and the king’s poor, and has no + better trick than false accounts, nor better friend than the pettifogging + knave. Doltaire had no burning love for France, and little faith in + anything; for he was of those Versailles water-flies who recked not if the + world blackened to cinders when their lights went out. As will be seen + by-and-bye, he had come here to seek me, and to serve the Grande Marquise. + </p> + <p> + More speech like this followed, and amid it all, with the flower of the + world beside me at this table, I remembered my mother’s words before I + bade her good-bye and set sail from Glasgow for Virginia. + </p> + <p> + “Keep it in mind, Robert,” she said, “that an honest love is the thing to + hold you honest with yourself. ‘Tis to be lived for, and fought for, and + died for. Ay, be honest in your loves. Be true.” + </p> + <p> + And there I took an oath, my hand clenched beneath the table, that Alixe + should be my wife if better days came; when I was done with citadel and + trial and captivity, if that might be. + </p> + <p> + The evening was well forward when Doltaire, rising from his seat in the + drawing-room, bowed to me, and said, “If it pleases you, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + I rose also, and prepared to go. There was little talk, yet we all kept up + a play of cheerfulness. When I came to take the Seigneur’s hand, Doltaire + was a distance off, talking to Madame. “Moray,” said the Seigneur quickly + and quietly, “trials portend for both of us.” He nodded towards Doltaire. + </p> + <p> + “But we shall come safe through,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Be of good courage, and adieu,” he answered, as Doltaire turned towards + us. + </p> + <p> + My last words were to Alixe. The great moment of my life was come. If I + could but say one thing to her out of earshot, I would stake all on the + hazard. She was standing beside a cabinet, very still, a strange glow in + her eyes, a new, fine firmness at the lips. I felt I dared not look as I + would; I feared there was no chance now to speak what I would. But I came + slowly up the room with her mother. As we did so, Doltaire exclaimed and + started to the window, and the Seigneur and Madame followed. A red light + was showing on the panes. + </p> + <p> + I caught Alixe’s eye, and held it, coming quickly to her. All backs were + on us. I took her hand and pressed it to my lips suddenly. She gave a + little gasp, and I saw her bosom heave. + </p> + <p> + “I am going from prison to prison,” said I, “and I leave a loved jailer + behind.” + </p> + <p> + She understood. “Your jailer goes also,” she answered, with a sad smile. + </p> + <p> + “I love you! I love you!” I urged. + </p> + <p> + She was very pale. “Oh, Robert!” she whispered timidly; and then, “I will + be brave, I will help you, and I will not forget. God guard you.” + </p> + <p> + That was all, for Doltaire turned to me then and said, “They’ve made of La + Friponne a torch to light you to the citadel, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + A moment afterwards we were outside in the keen October air, a squad of + soldiers attending, our faces towards the citadel heights. I looked back, + doffing my cap. The Seigneur and Madame stood at the door, but my eyes + were for a window where stood Alixe. The reflection of the far-off fire + bathed the glass, and her face had a glow, the eyes shining through, + intent and most serious. Yet how brave she was, for she lifted her + handkerchief, shook it a little, and smiled. + </p> + <p> + As though the salute were meant for him, Doltaire bowed twice + impressively, and then we stepped forward, the great fire over against the + Heights lighting us and hurrying us on. + </p> + <p> + We scarcely spoke as we went, though Doltaire hummed now and then the air + La Pompadour et La Friponne. As we came nearer I said, “Are you sure it is + La Friponne, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “It is not,” he said, pointing. “See!” + </p> + <p> + The sky was full of shaking sparks, and a smell of burning grain came down + the wind. + </p> + <p> + “One of the granaries, then,” I added, “not La Friponne itself?” + </p> + <p> + To this he nodded assent, and we pushed on. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. THE MASTER OF THE KING’S MAGAZINE + </h2> + <p> + “What fools,” said Doltaire presently, “to burn the bread and oven too! If + only they were less honest in a world of rogues, poor moles!” + </p> + <p> + Coming nearer, we saw that La Friponne itself was safe, but one warehouse + was doomed and another threatened. The streets were full of people, and + thousands of excited peasants, laborers, and sailors were shouting, “Down + with the palace! Down with Bigot!” + </p> + <p> + We came upon the scene at the most critical moment. None of the Governors + soldiers were in sight, but up the Heights we could hear the steady tramp + of General Montcalm’s infantry as they came on. Where were Bigot’s men? + There was a handful—one company—drawn up before La Friponne, + idly leaning on their muskets, seeing the great granary burn, and watching + La Friponne threatened by the mad crowd and the fire. There was not a + soldier before the Intendant’s palace, not a light in any window. + </p> + <p> + “What is this weird trick of Bigot’s?” said Doltaire, musing. + </p> + <p> + The Governor, we knew, had been out of the city that day. But where was + Bigot? At a word from Doltaire we pushed forward towards the palace, the + soldiers keeping me in their midst. We were not a hundred feet from the + great steps when two gates at the right suddenly swung open, and a + carriage rolled out swiftly and dashed down into the crowd. I recognized + the coachman first—Bigot’s, an old one-eyed soldier of surpassing + nerve, and devoted to his master. The crowd parted right and left. + Suddenly the carriage stopped, and Bigot stood up, folding his arms, and + glancing round with a disdainful smile without speaking a word. He carried + a paper in one hand. + </p> + <p> + Here were at least two thousand armed and unarmed peasants, sick with + misery and oppression, in the presence of their undefended tyrant. One + shot, one blow of a stone, one stroke of a knife—to the end of a + shameless pillage. But no hand was raised to do the deed. The roar of + voices subsided—he waited for it—and silence was broken only + by the crackle of the burning building, the tramp of Montcalm’s soldiers + in Mountain Street, and the tolling of the cathedral bell. I thought it + strange that almost as Bigot came out the wild clanging gave place to a + cheerful peal. + </p> + <p> + After standing for a moment, looking round him, his eye resting on + Doltaire and myself (we were but a little distance from him), Bigot said + in a loud voice: “What do you want with me? Do you think I may be moved by + threats? Do you punish me by burning your own food, which, when the + English are at our doors, is your only hope? Fools! How easily could I + turn my cannon and my men upon you! You think to frighten me. Who do you + think I am?—a Bostonnais or an Englishman? You—revolutionists! + T’sh! You are wild dogs without a leader. You want one that you can trust; + you want no coward, but one who fears you not at your wildest. Well, I + will be your leader. I do not fear you, and I do not love you, for how + have you deserved my love? By ingratitude and aspersion? Who has the + King’s favour? Francois Bigot. Who has the ear of the Grande Marquise? + Francois Bigot. Who stands firm while others tremble lest their power pass + to-morrow? Francois Bigot. Who else dare invite revolution, this danger”—his + hand sweeping to the flames—“who but Francois Bigot?” He paused for + a moment, and looking up to the leader of Montcalm’s soldiers on the + Heights, waved him back; then he continued: + </p> + <p> + “And to-day, when I am ready to give you great news, you play the mad + dog’s game; you destroy what I had meant to give you in our hour of + danger, when those English came. I made you suffer a little, that you + might live then. Only to-day, because of our great and glorious victory—” + </p> + <p> + He paused again. The peal of bells became louder. Far up on the Heights we + heard the calling of bugles and the beating of drums; and now I saw the + whole large plan, the deep dramatic scheme. He had withheld the news of + the victory that he might announce it when it would most turn to his own + glory. Perhaps he had not counted on the burning of the warehouse, but + this would tell now in his favour. He was not a large man, but he drew + himself up with dignity, and continued in a contemptuous tone: + </p> + <p> + “Because of our splendid victory, I designed to tell you all my plans, + and, pitying your trouble, divide among you at the smallest price, that + all might pay, the corn which now goes to feed the stars.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment some one from the Heights above called out shrilly, “What + lie is in that paper, Francois Bigot?” + </p> + <p> + I looked up, as did the crowd. A woman stood upon a point of the great + rock, a red robe hanging on her, her hair free over her shoulders, her + finger pointing at the Intendant. Bigot only glanced up, then smoothed out + the paper. + </p> + <p> + He said to the people in a clear but less steady voice, for I could see + that the woman had disturbed him, “Go pray to be forgiven for your + insolence and folly. His most Christian Majesty is triumphant upon the + Ohio. The English have been killed in thousands, and their General with + them. Do you not hear the joy-bells in the Church of Our Lady of the + Victories? and more—listen!” + </p> + <p> + There burst from the Heights on the other side a cannon shot, and then + another and another. There was a great commotion, and many ran to Bigot’s + carriage, reached in to touch his hand, and called down blessings on him. + </p> + <p> + “See that you save the other granaries,” he urged, adding, with a sneer, + “and forget not to bless La Friponne in your prayers!” + </p> + <p> + It was a clever piece of acting. Presently from the Heights above came the + woman’s voice again, so piercing that the crowd turned to her. + </p> + <p> + “Francois Bigot is a liar and a traitor!” she cried. “Beware of Francois + Bigot! God has cast him out.” + </p> + <p> + A dark look came upon Bigot’s face; but presently he turned, and gave a + sign to some one near the palace. The doors of the courtyard flew open, + and out came squad after squad of soldiers. In a moment, they, with the + people, were busy carrying water to pour upon the side of the endangered + warehouse. Fortunately the wind was with them, else it and the palace also + would have been burned that night. + </p> + <p> + The Intendant still stood in his carriage watching and listening to the + cheers of the people. At last he beckoned to Doltaire and to me. We both + went over. + </p> + <p> + “Doltaire, we looked for you at dinner,” he said. “Was Captain Moray”—nodding + towards me—“lost among the petticoats? He knows the trick of cup and + saucer. Between the sip and click he sucked in secrets from our garrison—a + spy where had been a soldier, as we thought. You once wore a sword, + Captain Moray—eh?” + </p> + <p> + “If the Governor would grant me leave, I would not only wear, but use one, + your excellency knows well where,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Large speaking, Captain Moray. They do that in Virginia, I am told.” + </p> + <p> + “In Gascony there’s quiet, your excellency.” + </p> + <p> + Doltaire laughed outright, for it was said that Bigot, in his coltish + days, had a shrewish Gascon wife, whom he took leave to send to heaven + before her time. I saw the Intendant’s mouth twitch angrily. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” he said, “you have a tongue; we’ll see if you have a stomach. + You’ve languished with the girls; you shall have your chance to drink with + Francois Bigot. Now, if you dare, when we have drunk to the first + cockcrow, should you be still on your feet, you’ll fight some one among + us, first giving ample cause.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope, your excellency,” I replied, with a touch of vanity, “I have + still some stomach and a wrist. I will drink to cockcrow, if you will. And + if my sword prove the stronger, what?” + </p> + <p> + “There’s the point,” he said. “Your Englishman loves not fighting for + fighting’s sake, Doltaire; he must have bonbons for it. Well, see: if your + sword and stomach prove the stronger, you shall go your ways to where you + will. Voila!” + </p> + <p> + If I could but have seen a bare portion of the craftiness of this pair of + devils artisans! They both had ends to serve in working ill to me, and + neither was content that I should be shut away in the citadel, and no + more. There was a deeper game playing. I give them their due: the trap was + skillful, and in those times, with great things at stake, strategy took + the place of open fighting here and there. For Bigot I was to be a weapon + against another; for Doltaire, against myself. + </p> + <p> + What a gull they must have thought me! I might have known that, with my + lost papers on the way to France, they must hold me tight here till I had + been tried, nor permit me to escape. But I was sick of doing nothing, + thinking with horror on a long winter in the citadel, and I caught at the + least straw of freedom. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Moray will like to spend a couple of hours at his lodgings before + he joins us at the palace,” the Intendant said, and with a nod to me he + turned to his coachman. The horses wheeled, and in a moment the great + doors opened, and he had passed inside to applause, though here and there + among the crowd was heard a hiss, for the Scarlet Woman had made an + impression. The Intendant’s men essayed to trace these noises, but found + no one. Looking again to the Heights, I saw that the woman had gone. + Doltaire noted my glance and the inquiry in my face, and he said: + </p> + <p> + “Some bad fighting hours with the Intendant at Chateau Bigot, and then a + fever, bringing a kind of madness: so the story creeps about, as told by + Bigot’s enemies.” + </p> + <p> + Just at this point I felt a man hustle me as he passed. One of the + soldiers made a thrust at him, and he turned round. I caught his eye, and + it flashed something to me. It was Voban the barber, who had shaved me + every day for months when I first came, while my arm was stiff from a + wound got fighting the French on the Ohio. It was quite a year since I had + met him, and I was struck by the change in his face. It had grown much + older; its roundness was gone. We had had many a talk together; he helping + me with French, I listening to the tales of his early life in France, and + to the later tale of a humble love, and of the home which he was fitting + up for his Mathilde, a peasant girl of much beauty, I was told, but whom I + had never seen. I remembered at that moment, as he stood in the crowd + looking at me, the piles of linen which he had bought at Ste. Anne de + Beaupre, and the silver pitcher which his grandfather had got from the Duc + de Valois for an act of merit. Many a time we had discussed the pitcher + and the deed, and fingered the linen, now talking in French, now in + English; for in France, years before, he had been a valet to an English + officer at King Louis’s court. But my surprise had been great when I + learned that this English gentleman was no other than the best friend I + ever had, next to my parents and my grandfather. Voban was bound to Sir + John Godric by as strong ties of affection as I. What was more, by a + secret letter I had sent to George Washington, who was then as good a + Briton as myself, I had been able to have my barber’s young brother, a + prisoner of war, set free. + </p> + <p> + I felt that he had something to say to me. But he turned away and + disappeared among the crowd. I might have had some clue if I had known + that he had been crouched behind the Intendant’s carriage while I was + being bidden to the supper. I did not guess then that there was anything + between him and the Scarlet Woman who railed at Bigot. + </p> + <p> + In a little while I was at my lodgings, soldiers posted at my door and one + in my room. Doltaire gone to his own quarters promising to call for me + within two hours. There was little for me to do but to put in a bag the + fewest necessaries, to roll up my heavy cloak, to stow safely my pipes and + two goodly packets of tobacco, which were to be my chiefest solace for + many a long day, and to write some letters—one to Governor + Dinwiddie, one to George Washington, and one to my partner in Virginia, + telling them my fresh misfortunes, and begging them to send me money, + which, however useless in my captivity, would be important in my fight for + life and freedom. I did not write intimately of my state, for I was not + sure my letters would ever pass outside Quebec. There were only two men I + could trust to do the thing. One was a fellow-countryman, Clark, a + ship-carpenter, who, to save his neck and to spare his wife and child, had + turned Catholic, but who hated all Frenchmen barbarously at heart, + remembering two of his bairns butchered before his eyes. The other was + Voban. I knew that though Voban might not act, he would not betray me. But + how to reach either of them? It was clear that I must bide my chances. + </p> + <p> + One other letter I wrote, brief but vital, in which I begged the sweetest + girl in the world not to have uneasiness because of me; that I trusted to + my star and to my innocence to convince my judges; and begging her, if she + could, to send me a line at the citadel. I told her I knew well how hard + it would be, for her mother and her father would not now look upon my love + with favour. But I trusted all to time and Providence. + </p> + <p> + I sealed my letters, put them in my pocket, and sat down to smoke and + think while I waited for Doltaire. To the soldier on duty, whom I did not + notice at first, I now offered a pipe and a glass of wine, which he + accepted rather gruffly, but enjoyed, if I might judge by his devotion to + them. + </p> + <p> + By-and-bye, without any relevancy at all, he said abruptly, “If a little + sooner she had come—aho!” + </p> + <p> + For a moment I could not think what he meant; but soon I saw. + </p> + <p> + “The palace would have been burnt if the girl in scarlet had come sooner—eh?” + I asked. “She would have urged the people on?” + </p> + <p> + “And Bigot burnt, too, maybe,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Fire and death—eh?” + </p> + <p> + I offered him another pipeful of tobacco. He looked doubtful, but + accepted. + </p> + <p> + “Aho! And that Voban, he would have had his hand in,” he growled. + </p> + <p> + I began to get more light. + </p> + <p> + “She was shut up at Chateau Bigot—hand of iron and lock of steel—who + knows the rest! But Voban was for always,” he added presently. + </p> + <p> + The thing was clear. The Scarlet Woman was Mathilde. So here was the end + of Voban’s little romance—of the fine linen from Ste. Anne de + Beaupre and the silver pitcher for the wedding wine. I saw, or felt, that + in Voban I might find now a confederate, if I put my hard case on Bigot’s + shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t see why she stayed with Bigot,” I said tentatively. + </p> + <p> + “Break the dog’s leg, it can’t go hunting bones—mais, non! Holy, how + stupid are you English!” + </p> + <p> + “Why doesn’t the Intendant lock her up now? She’s dangerous to him. You + remember what she said?” + </p> + <p> + “Tonnerre, you shall see to-morrow,” he answered; “now all the sheep go + bleating with the bell. Bigot—Bigot—Bigot—there is + nothing but Bigot! But, pish! Vaudreuil the Governor is the great man, and + Montcalm, aho! son of Mahomet! You shall see. Now they dance to Bigot’s + whistling; he will lock her safe enough to-morrow, ‘less some one steps in + to help her. Before to-night she never spoke of him before the world—but + a poor daft thing, going about all sad and wild. She missed her chance + to-night—aho!” + </p> + <p> + “Why are you not with Montcalm’s soldiers?” I asked. “You like him + better.” + </p> + <p> + “I was with him, but my time was out, and I left him for Bigot. Pish! I + left him for Bigot, for the militia!” He raised his thumb to his nose, and + spread out his fingers. Again light dawned on me. He was still with the + Governor in all fact, though soldiering for Bigot—a sort of watch + upon the Intendant. + </p> + <p> + I saw my chance. If I could but induce this fellow to fetch me Voban! + There was yet an hour before I was to go to the intendance. + </p> + <p> + I called up what looks of candour were possible to me, and told him + bluntly that I wished Voban to bear a letter for me to the Seigneur + Duvarney’s. At that he cocked his ear and shook his bushy head, fiercely + stroking his mustaches. + </p> + <p> + I knew that I should stake something if I said it was a letter for + Mademoiselle Duvarney, but I knew also that if he was still the Governor’s + man in Bigot’s pay he would understand the Seigneur’s relations with the + Governor. And a woman in the case with a soldier—that would count + for something. So I said it was for her. Besides, I had no other resource + but to make a friend among my enemies, if I could, while yet there was a + chance. + </p> + <p> + It was like a load lifted from me when I saw his mouth and eyes open wide + in a big soundless laugh, which came to an end with a voiceless aho! I + gave him another tumbler of wine. Before he took it, he made a wide mouth + at me again, and slapped his leg. After drinking, he said, “Poom—what + good? They’re going to hang you for a spy.” + </p> + <p> + “That rope’s not ready yet,” I answered. “I’ll tie a pretty knot in + another string first, I trust.” + </p> + <p> + “Damned if you haven’t spirit!” said he. “That Seigneur Duvarney, I know + him; and I know his son the ensign—whung, what saltpetre is he! And + the ma’m’selle—excellent, excellent; and a face, such a face, and a + seat like leeches in the saddle. And you a British officer mewed up to + kick your heels till gallows day! So droll, my dear!” + </p> + <p> + “But will you fetch Voban?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “To trim your hair against the supper to-night—eh, like that?” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke he puffed out his red cheeks with wide boylike eyes, burst his + lips in another soundless laugh, and laid a finger beside his nose. His + marvellous innocence of look and his peasant openness hid, I saw, great + shrewdness and intelligence—an admirable man for Vaudreuil’s + purpose, as admirable for mine. I knew well that if I had tried to bribe + him he would have scouted me, or if I had made a motion for escape he + would have shot me off-hand. But a lady—that appealed to him; and + that she was the Seigneur Duvarney’s daughter did the rest. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” said I, “one must be well appointed in soul and body when one + sups with his Excellency and Monsieur Doltaire.” + </p> + <p> + “Limed inside and chalked outside,” he retorted gleefully. “But M’sieu’ + Doltaire needs no lime, for he has no soul. No, by Sainte Helois! The good + God didn’t make him. The devil laughed, and that laugh grew into M’sieu’ + Doltaire. But brave!—no kicking pulse is in his body.” + </p> + <p> + “You will send for Voban—now?” I asked softly. + </p> + <p> + He was leaning against the door as he spoke. He reached and put the + tumbler on a shelf, then turned and opened the door, his face all altered + to a grimness. + </p> + <p> + “Attend here, Labrouk!” he called; and on the soldier coming, he blurted + out in scorn, “Here’s this English captain can’t go to supper without + Voban’s shears to snip him. Go fetch him, for I’d rather hear a calf in a + barn-yard than this whing-whanging for ‘M’sieu’ Voban!’” + </p> + <p> + He mocked my accent in the last two words, so that the soldier grinned, + and at once started away. Then he shut the door, and turned to me again, + and said more seriously, “How long have we before Monsieur comes?”—meaning + Doltaire. + </p> + <p> + “At least an hour,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Good,” he rejoined, and then he smoked while I sat thinking. + </p> + <p> + It was near an hour before we heard footsteps outside; then came a knock, + and Voban was shown in. + </p> + <p> + “Quick, m’sieu’,” he said. “M’sieu’ is almost at our heels.” + </p> + <p> + “This letter,” said I, “to Mademoiselle Duvarney,” and I handed four: + hers, and those to Governor Dinwiddie, to Mr. Washington, and to my + partner. + </p> + <p> + He quickly put them in his coat, nodding. The soldier—I have not yet + mentioned his name—Gabord, did not know that more than one passed + into Voban’s hands. + </p> + <p> + “Off with your coat, m’sieu’,” said Voban, whipping out his shears, + tossing his cap aside, and rolling down his apron. “M’sieu’ is here.” + </p> + <p> + I had off my coat, was in a chair in a twinkling, and he was clipping + softly at me as Doltaire’s hand turned the handle of the door. + </p> + <p> + “Beware—to-night!” Voban whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Come to me in the prison,” said I. “Remember your brother!” + </p> + <p> + His lips twitched. “M’sieu’, I will if I can.” This he said in my ear as + Doltaire entered and came forward. + </p> + <p> + “Upon my life!” Doltaire broke out. “These English gallants! They go to + prison curled and musked by Voban. VOBAN—a name from the court of + the King, and it garnishes a barber. Who called you, Voban?” + </p> + <p> + “My mother, with the cure’s help, m’sieu’.” + </p> + <p> + Doltaire paused, with a pinch of snuff at his nose, and replied lazily, “I + did not say ‘Who called you VOBAN?’ Voban, but who called you here, + Voban?” + </p> + <p> + I spoke up testily then of purpose: “What would you have, monsieur? The + citadel has better butchers than barbers. I sent for him.” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulders and came over to Voban. “Turn round, my Voban,” + he said. “Voban—and such a figure! a knee, a back like that!” + </p> + <p> + Then, while my heart stood still, he put forth a finger and touched the + barber on the chest. If he should touch the letters! I was ready to seize + them—but would that save them? Twice, thrice, the finger prodded + Voban’s breast, as if to add an emphasis to his words. “In Quebec you are + misplaced, Monsieur le Voban. Once a wasp got into a honeycomb and died.” + </p> + <p> + I knew he was hinting at the barber’s resentment of the poor Mathilde’s + fate. Something strange and devilish leapt into the man’s eyes, and he + broke out bitterly, + </p> + <p> + “A honey-bee got into a nest of wasps—and died.” + </p> + <p> + I thought of the Scarlet Woman on the hill. + </p> + <p> + Voban looked for a moment as if he might do some wild thing. His spirit, + his devilry, pleased Doltaire, and he laughed. “Who would have thought our + Voban had such wit? The trade of barber is double-edged. Razors should be + in fashion at Versailles.” + </p> + <p> + Then he sat down, while Voban made a pretty show of touching off my + person. A few minutes passed so, in which the pealing of bells, the + shouting of the people, the beating of drums, and the calling of bugles + came to us clearly. + </p> + <p> + A half hour afterwards, on our way to the Intendant’s palace, we heard the + Benedictus chanted in the Church of the Recollets as we passed—hundreds + kneeling outside, and responding to the chant sung within: + </p> + <p> + “That we should be saved from our enemies, and from the hands of all that + hate us.” + </p> + <p> + At the corner of a building which we passed, a little away from the crowd, + I saw a solitary cloaked figure. The words of the chant, following us, I + could hear distinctly: + </p> + <p> + “That we, being delivered out of the hands of our enemies, might serve Him + without fear.” + </p> + <p> + And then, from the shadowed corner came in a high, melancholy voice the + words: + </p> + <p> + “To give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, + and to guide our feet into the way of peace.” + </p> + <p> + Looking closer, I saw it was Mathilde. + </p> + <p> + Doltaire smiled as I turned and begged a moment’s time to speak to her. + </p> + <p> + “To pray with the lost angel and sup with the Intendant, all in one night—a + liberal taste, monsieur; but who shall stay the good Samaritan!” + </p> + <p> + They stood a little distance away, and I went over to her and said, + “Mademoiselle—Mathilde, do you not know me?” + </p> + <p> + Her abstracted eye fired up, as there ran to her brain some little sprite + out of the House of Memory and told her who I was. + </p> + <p> + “There were two lovers in the world,” she said: “the Mother of God forgot + them, and the devil came. I am the Scarlet Woman,” she went on; “I made + this red robe from the curtains of Hell—” + </p> + <p> + Poor soul! My own trouble seemed then as a speck among the stars to hers. + I took her hand and held it, saying again, “Do you not know me? Think, + Mathilde!” + </p> + <p> + I was not sure that she had ever seen me, to know me, but I thought it + possible; for, as a hostage, I had been much noticed in Quebec, and Voban + had, no doubt, pointed me out to her. Light leapt from her black eye, and + then she said, putting her finger on her lips, “Tell all the lovers to + hide. I have seen a hundred Francois Bigots.” + </p> + <p> + I looked at her, saying nothing—I knew not what to say. Presently + her eye steadied to mine, and her intellect rallied. “You are a prisoner, + too,” she said; “but they will not kill you: they will keep you till the + ring of fire grows in your head, and then you will make your scarlet robe, + and go out, but you will never find It—never. God hid first, and + then It hides.... It hides, that which you lost—It hides, and you + can not find It again. You go hunting, hunting, but you can not find It.” + </p> + <p> + My heart was pinched with pain. I understood her. She did not know her + lover now at all. If Alixe and her mother at the Manor could but care for + her, I thought. But alas! what could I do? It were useless to ask her to + go to the Manor; she would not understand. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps there come to the disordered mind flashes of insight, + illuminations and divinations, greater than are given to the sane, for she + suddenly said in a whisper, touching me with a nervous finger, “I will go + and tell her where to hide. They shall not find her. I know the woodpath + to the Manor. Hush! she shall own all I have—except the scarlet + robe. She showed me where the May-apples grew. Go,”—she pushed me + gently away—“go to your prison, and pray to God. But you can not + kill Francois Bigot, he is a devil.” Then she thrust into my hands a + little wooden cross, which she took from many others at her girdle. “If + you wear that, the ring of fire will not grow,” she said. “I will go by + the woodpath, and give her one, too. She shall live with me: I will spread + the cedar branches and stir the fire. She shall be safe. Hush! Go, go + softly, for their wicked eyes are everywhere, the were-wolves!” + </p> + <p> + She put her fingers on my lips for an instant, and then, turning, stole + softly away towards the St. Charles River. + </p> + <p> + Doltaire’s mockery brought me back to myself. + </p> + <p> + “So much for the beads of the addled; now for the bowls of sinful man,” + said he. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. THE WAGER AND THE SWORD + </h2> + <p> + As I entered the Intendant’s palace with Doltaire I had a singular feeling + of elation. My spirits rose unaccountably, and I felt as though it were a + fete night, and the day’s duty over, the hour of play was come. I must + needs have felt ashamed of it then, and now, were I not sure it was some + unbidden operation of the senses. Maybe a merciful Spirit sees how, left + alone, we should have stumbled and lost ourselves in our own gloom, and so + gives us a new temper fitted to our needs. I remember that at the great + door I turned back and smiled upon the ruined granary, and sniffed the air + laden with the scent of burnt corn—the peoples bread; that I saw old + men and women who could not be moved by news of victory, shaking with + cold, even beside this vast furnace, and peevishly babbling of their + hunger, and I did not say, “Poor souls!” that for a time the power to feel + my own misfortunes seemed gone, and a hard, light indifference came on me. + </p> + <p> + For it is true I came into the great dining-hall, and looked upon the long + loaded table, with its hundred candles, its flagons and pitchers of wine, + and on the faces of so many idle, careless gentlemen bid to a carouse, + with a manner, I believe, as reckless and jaunty as their own. And I kept + it up, though I saw it was not what they had looked for. I did not at once + know who was there, but presently, at a distance from me, I saw the face + of Juste Duvarney, the brother of my sweet Alixe, a man of but twenty or + so, who had a name for wildness, for no badness that I ever heard of, and + for a fiery temper. He was in the service of the Governor, an ensign. He + had been little at home since I had come to Quebec, having been employed + up to the past year in the service of the Governor of Montreal. We bowed, + but he made no motion to come to me, and the Intendant engaged me almost + at once in gossip of the town; suddenly, however, diverging upon some + questions of public tactics and civic government. He much surprised me, + for though I knew him brave and able, I had never thought of him save as + the adroit politician and servant of the King, the tyrant and the + libertine. I might have known by that very scene a few hours before that + he had a wide, deep knowledge of human nature, and despised it; unlike + Doltaire, who had a keener mind, was more refined even in wickedness, and, + knowing the world, laughed at it more than he despised it, which was the + sign of the greater mind. And indeed, in spite of all the causes I had to + hate Doltaire, it is but just to say he had by nature all the great gifts—misused + and disordered as they were. He was the product of his age; having no real + moral sense, living life wantonly, making his own law of right or wrong. + As a lad, I was taught to think the evil person carried evil in his face, + repelling the healthy mind. But long ago I found that this was error. I + had no reason to admire Doltaire, and yet to this hour his handsome face, + with its shadows and shifting lights, haunts me, charms me. The thought + came to me as I talked with the Intendant, and I looked round the room. + Some present were of coarse calibre—bushranging sons of seigneurs + and petty nobles, dashing and profane, and something barbarous; but most + had gifts of person and speech, and all seemed capable. + </p> + <p> + My spirits continued high. I sprang alertly to meet wit and gossip, my + mind ran nimbly here and there, I filled the role of honoured guest. But + when came the table and wine, a change befell me. From the first drop I + drank, my spirits suffered a decline. On one side the Intendant rallied + me, on the other Doltaire. I ate on, drank on; but while smiling by the + force of will, I grew graver little by little. Yet it was a gravity which + had no apparent motive, for I was not thinking of my troubles, not even of + the night’s stake and the possible end of it all; simply a sort of gray + colour of the mind, a stillness in the nerves, a general seriousness of + the senses. I drank, and the wine did not affect me, as voices got loud + and louder, and glasses rang, and spurs rattled on shuffling heels, and a + scabbard clanged on a chair. I seemed to feel and know it all in some + far-off way, but I was not touched by the spirit of it, was not a part of + it. I watched the reddened cheeks and loose scorching mouths around me + with a sort of distant curiosity, and the ribald jests flung right and + left struck me not at all acutely. It was as if I were reading a Book of + Bacchus. I drank on evenly, not doggedly, and answered jest for jest + without a hot breath of drunkenness. I looked several times at Juste + Duvarney, who sat not far away, on the other side of the table, behind a + grand piece of silver filled with October roses. He was drinking hard, and + Doltaire, sitting beside him, kept him at it. At last the silver piece was + shifted, and he and I could see each other fairly. Now and then Doltaire + spoke across to me, but somehow no word passed between Duvarney and + myself. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, as if by magic—I know it was preconcerted—the talk + turned on the events of the evening and on the defeat of the British. + Then, too, as strangely I began to be myself again, amid a sense of my + position grew upon me. I had been withdrawn from all real feeling and + living for hours, but I believe that same suspension was my salvation. For + with every man present deeply gone in liquor round me—every man save + Doltaire—I was sane and steady, and settling into a state of great + alertness, determined on escape, if that could be, and bent on turning + every chance to serve my purposes. + </p> + <p> + Now and again I caught my own name mentioned with a sneer, then with + remarks of surprise, then with insolent laughter. I saw it all. Before + dinner some of the revellers had been told of the new charge against me, + and, by instruction, had kept it till the inflammable moment. Then, when + the why and wherefore of my being at this supper were in the hazard, the + stake, as a wicked jest of Bigot’s, was mentioned. I could see the flame + grow inch by inch, fed by the Intendant and Doltaire, whose hateful final + move I was yet to see. For one instant I had a sort of fear, for I was + sure they meant I should not leave the room alive; but anon I felt a river + of fiery anger flow through me, rousing me, making me loathe the faces of + them all. Yet not all, for in one pale face, with dark, brilliant eyes, I + saw the looks of my flower of the world: the colour of her hair in his, + the clearness of the brow, the poise of the head—how handsome he + was!—the light, springing step, like a deer on the sod of June. I + call to mind when I first saw him. He was sitting in a window of the + Manor, just after he had come from Montreal, playing a violin which had + once belonged to De Casson, the famous priest whose athletic power and + sweet spirit endeared him to New France. His fresh cheek was bent to the + brown, delicate wood, and he was playing to his sister the air of the + undying chanson, “Je vais mourir pour ma belle reine.” I loved the look of + his face, like that of a young Apollo, open, sweet, and bold, all his body + having the epic strength of life. I wished that I might have him near me + as a comrade, for out of my hard experience I could teach him much, and + out of his youth he could soften my blunt nature, by comradeship making + flexuous the hard and ungenial. + </p> + <p> + I went on talking to the Intendant, while some of the guests rose and + scattered about the rooms, at tables, to play picquet, the jesting on our + cause and the scorn of myself abating not at all. I would not have it + thought that anything was openly coarse or brutal; it was all by innuendo, + and brow-lifting, and maddening, allusive phrases such as it is thought + fit for gentlefolk to use instead of open charge. There was insult in a + smile, contempt in the turn of a shoulder, challenge in the flicking of a + handkerchief. With great pleasure I could have wrung their noses one by + one, and afterwards have met them tossing sword-points in the same order. + I wonder now that I did not tell them so, for I was ever hasty; but my + brain was clear that night, and I held myself in proper check, letting + each move come from my enemies. There was no reason why I should have been + at this wild feast at all, I a prisoner, accused falsely of being a spy, + save because of some plot by which I was to have fresh suffering and some + one else be benefited—though how that could be I could not guess at + first. + </p> + <p> + But soon I understood everything. Presently I heard a young gentleman say + to Duvarney over my shoulder: + </p> + <p> + “Eating comfits and holding yarn—that was his doing at your manor + when Doltaire came hunting him.” + </p> + <p> + “He has dined at your table, Lancy,” broke out Duvarney hotly. + </p> + <p> + “But never with our ladies,” was the biting answer. + </p> + <p> + “Should prisoners make conditions?” was the sharp, insolent retort. + </p> + <p> + The insult was conspicuous, and trouble might have followed, but that + Doltaire came between them, shifting the attack. + </p> + <p> + “Prisoners, my dear Duvarney,” said he, “are most delicate and exacting; + they must be fed on wine and milk. It is an easy life, and hearts grow + soft for them. As thus—Indeed, it is most sad: so young and gallant; + in speech, too, so confiding! And if we babble all our doings to him, + think you he takes it seriously? No, no—so gay and thoughtless, + there is a thoroughfare from ear to ear, and all’s lost on the other side. + Poor simple gentleman, he is a claimant on our courtesy, a knight without + a sword, a guest without the power to leave us—he shall make + conditions, he shall have his caprice. La, la! my dear Duvarney and my + Lancy!” + </p> + <p> + He spoke in a clear, provoking tone, putting a hand upon the shoulder of + each young gentleman as he talked, his eyes wandering over me idly, and + beyond me. I saw that he was now sharpening the sickle to his office. His + next words made this more plain to me: + </p> + <p> + “And if a lady gives a farewell sign to one she favours for the moment, + shall not the prisoner take it as his own?” (I knew he was recalling + Alixe’s farewell gesture to me at the manor.) “Who shall gainsay our + peacock? Shall the guinea cock? The golden crumb was thrown to the guinea + cock, but that’s no matter. The peacock clatters of the crumb.” At that he + spoke an instant in Duvarney’s ear. I saw the lad’s face flush, and he + looked at me angrily. + </p> + <p> + Then I knew his object: to provoke a quarrel between this young gentleman + and myself, which might lead to evil ends; and the Intendant’s share in + the conspiracy was to revenge himself upon the Seigneur for his close + friendship with the Governor. If Juste Duvarney were killed in the duel + which they foresaw, so far as Doltaire was concerned I was out of the + counting in the young lady’s sight. In any case my life was of no account, + for I was sure my death was already determined on. Yet it seemed strange + that Doltaire should wish me dead, for he had reasons for keeping me + alive, as shall be seen. + </p> + <p> + Juste Duvarney liked me once, I knew, but still he had the Frenchman’s + temper, and had always to argue down his bias against my race, and to + cherish a good heart towards me; for he was young, and most sensitive to + the opinions of his comrades. I can not express what misery possessed me + when I saw him leave Doltaire, and, coming to me where I stood alone, say— + </p> + <p> + “What secrets found you at our seigneury, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + I understood the taunt—as though I were the common interrogation + mark, the abuser of hospitality, the abominable Paul Pry. But I held my + wits together. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said I, “I found the secret of all good life: a noble kindness + to the unfortunate.” + </p> + <p> + There was a general laugh, led by Doltaire, a concerted influence on the + young gentleman. I cursed myself that I had been snared to this trap. + </p> + <p> + “The insolent,” responded Duvarney, “not the unfortunate.” + </p> + <p> + “Insolence is no crime, at least,” I rejoined quietly, “else this room + were a penitentiary.” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment’s pause, and presently, as I kept my eye on him, he + raised his handkerchief and flicked me across the face with it, saying, + “Then this will be a virtue, and you may have more such virtues as often + as you will.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of will, my blood pounded in my veins, and a devilish anger took + hold of me. To be struck across the face by a beardless Frenchman, scarce + past his teens!—it shook me more than now I care to own. I felt my + cheek burn, my teeth clinched, and I know a kind of snarl came from me; + but again, all in a moment, I caught a turn of his head, a motion of the + hand, which brought back Alixe to me. Anger died away, and I saw only a + youth flushed with wine, stung by suggestions, with that foolish pride the + youngster feels—and he was the youngest of them all—in being + as good a man as the best, and as daring as the worst. I felt how useless + it would be to try the straightening of matters there, though had we two + been alone a dozen words would have been enough. But to try was my duty, + and I tried with all my might; almost, for Alixe’s sake, with all my + heart. + </p> + <p> + “Do not trouble to illustrate your meaning,” said I patiently. “Your + phrases are clear and to the point.” + </p> + <p> + “You bolt from my words,” he retorted, “like a shy mare on the curb; you + take insult like a donkey on a well-wheel. What fly will the English fish + rise to? Now it no more plays to my hook than an August chub.” + </p> + <p> + I could not help but admire his spirit and the sharpness of his speech, + though it drew me into a deeper quandary. It was clear that he would not + be tempered to friendliness; for, as is often so, when men have said + things fiercely, their eloquence feeds their passion and convinces them of + holiness in their cause. Calmly, but with a heavy heart, I answered: + </p> + <p> + “I wish not to find offense in your words, my friend, for in some good + days gone you and I had good acquaintance, and I can not forget that the + last hours of a light imprisonment before I entered on a dark one were + spent in the home of your father—of the brave Seigneur whose life I + once saved.” + </p> + <p> + I am sure I should not have mentioned this in any other situation—it + seemed as if I were throwing myself on his mercy; but yet I felt it was + the only thing to do—that I must bridge this affair, if at cost of + some reputation. + </p> + <p> + It was not to be. Here Doltaire, seeing that my words had indeed affected + my opponent, said: “A double retreat! He swore to give a challenge + to-night, and he cries off like a sheep from a porcupine; his courage is + so slack, he dares not move a step to his liberty. It was a bet, a hazard. + He was to drink glass for glass with any and all of us, and fight sword + for sword with any of us who gave him cause. Having drunk his courage to + death, he’d now browse at the feet of those who give him chance to win his + stake.” + </p> + <p> + His words came slowly and bitingly, yet with an air of damnable + nonchalance. I looked round me. Every man present was full-sprung with + wine; and a distance away, a gentleman on either side of him, stood the + Intendant, smiling detestably, a keen, houndlike look shooting out of his + small round eyes. + </p> + <p> + I had had enough; I could bear no more. To be baited like a bear by these + Frenchmen—it was aloes in my teeth! I was not sorry then that these + words of Juste Duvarney’s gave me no chance of escape from fighting; + though I would it had been any other man in the room than he. It was on my + tongue to say that if some gentleman would take up his quarrel I should be + glad to drive mine home, though for reasons I cared not myself to fight + Duvarney. But I did not, for I knew that to carry that point farther might + rouse a general thought of Alixe, and I had no wish to make matters hard + for her. Everything in its own good time, and when I should be free! So, + without more ado, I said to him: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, the quarrel was of your choosing, not mine. There was no need + for strife between us, and you have more to lose than I: more friends, + more years of life, more hopes. I have avoided your bait, as you call it, + for your sake, not mine own. Now I take it, and you, monsieur, show us + what sort of fisherman you are.” + </p> + <p> + All was arranged in a moment. As we turned to pass from the room to the + courtyard, I noted that Bigot was gone. When we came outside, it was just + one, as I could tell by a clock striking in a chamber near. It was cold, + and some of the company shivered as we stepped upon the white, frosty + stones. The late October air bit the cheek, though now and then a warm, + pungent current passed across the courtyard—the breath from the + people’s burnt corn. Even yet upon the sky was the reflection of the fire, + and distant sounds of singing, shouting, and carousal came to us from the + Lower Town. + </p> + <p> + We stepped to a corner of the yard and took off our coats; swords were + handed us—both excellent, for we had had our choice of many. It was + partial moonlight, but there were flitting clouds. That we should have + light, however, pine torches had been brought, and these were stuck in the + wall. My back was to the outer wall of the courtyard, and I saw the + Intendant at a window of the palace looking down at us. Doltaire stood a + little apart from the other gentlemen in the courtyard, yet where he could + see Duvarney and myself at advantage. + </p> + <p> + Before we engaged, I looked intently into my opponent’s face, and measured + him carefully with my eye, that I might have his height and figure + explicit and exact; for I know how moonlight and fire distort, how the eye + may be deceived. I looked for every button; for the spot in his lean, + healthy body where I could disable him, spit him, and yet not kill him—for + this was the thing furthest from my wishes, God knows. Now the deadly + character of the event seemed to impress him, for he was pale, and the + liquor he had drunk had given him dark hollows round the eyes, and a gray + shining sweat was on his cheek. But his eyes themselves were fiery and + keen and there was reckless daring in every turn of his body. + </p> + <p> + I was not long in finding his quality, for he came at me violently from + the start, and I had chance to know his strength and weakness also. His + hand was quick, his sight clear and sure, his knowledge to a certain point + most definite and practical, his mastery of the sword delightful; but he + had little imagination, he did not divine, he was merely a brilliant + performer, he did not conceive. I saw that if I put him on the defensive I + should have him at advantage, for he had not that art of the true + swordsman, the prescient quality which foretells the opponents action and + stands prepared. There I had him at fatal advantage—could, I felt, + give him last reward of insult at my pleasure. Yet a lust of fighting got + into me, and it was difficult to hold myself in check at all, nor was it + easy to meet his breathless and adroit advances. + </p> + <p> + Then, too, remarks from the bystanders worked me up to a deep sort of + anger, and I could feel Doltaire looking at me with that still, cold face + of his, an ironical smile at his lips. Now and then, too, a ribald jest + came from some young roisterer near, and the fact that I stood alone among + sneering enemies wound me up to a point where pride was more active than + aught else. I began to press him a little, and I pricked him once. Then a + singular feeling possessed me. I would bring this to an end when I had + counted ten; I would strike home when I said “ten.” + </p> + <p> + So I began, and I was not aware then that I was counting aloud. “One—two—three!” + It was weird to the onlookers, for the yard grew still, and you could hear + nothing but maybe a shifting foot or a hard breathing. “Four—five—six!” + There was a tenseness in the air, and Juste Duvarney, as if he felt a + menace in the words, seemed to lose all sense of wariness, and came at me + lunging, lunging with great swiftness and heat. I was incensed now, and he + must take what fortune might send; one can not guide one’s sword to do the + least harm fighting as did we. + </p> + <p> + I had lost blood, and the game could go on no longer. “Eight!” I pressed + him sharply now. “Nine!” I was preparing for the trick which would end the + matter, when I slipped on the frosty stones, now glazed with our tramping + back and forth, and, trying to recover myself, left my side open to his + sword. It came home, though I partly diverted it. I was forced to my + knees, but there, mad, unpardonable youth, he made another furious lunge + at me. I threw myself back, deftly avoided the lunge, and he came plump on + my upstretched sword, gave a long gasp, and sank down. + </p> + <p> + At that moment the doors of the courtyard opened, and men stepped inside, + one coming quickly forward before the rest. It was the Governor, the + Marquis de Vaudreuil. He spoke, but what he said I knew not, for the stark + upturned face of Juste Duvarney was there before me, there was a great + buzzing in my ears, and I fell back into darkness. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. THE RAT IN THE TRAP + </h2> + <p> + When I waked I was alone. At first nothing was clear to me; my brain was + dancing in my head, my sight was obscured, my body painful, my senses were + blunted. I was in darkness, yet through an open door there showed a light, + which, from the smell and flickering, I knew to be a torch. This, creeping + into my senses, helped me to remember that the last thing I saw in the + Intendant’s courtyard was a burning torch, which suddenly multiplied to + dancing hundreds and then went out. I now stretched forth a hand, and it + touched a stone wall; I moved, and felt straw under me. Then I fixed my + eyes steadily on the open door and the shaking light, and presently it all + came to me: the events of the night, and that I was now in a cell of the + citadel. Stirring, I found that the wound in my body had been bound and + cared for. A loosely tied scarf round my arm showed that some one had + lately left me, and would return to finish the bandaging. I raised myself + with difficulty, and saw a basin of water, a sponge, bits of cloth, and a + pocket-knife. Stupid and dazed though I was, the instinct of + self-preservation lived, and I picked up the knife and hid it in my coat. + I did it, I believe, mechanically, for a hundred things were going through + my mind at the time. + </p> + <p> + All at once there rushed in on me the thought of Juste Duvarney as I saw + him last—how long ago was it?—his white face turned to the + sky, his arms stretched out, his body dabbled in blood. I groaned aloud. + Fool, fool! to be trapped by these lying French! To be tricked into + playing their shameless games for them, to have a broken body, to have + killed the brother of the mistress of my heart, and so cut myself off from + her and ruined my life for nothing—for worse than nothing! I had + swaggered, boasted, had taken a challenge for a bout and a quarrel like + any hanger-on of a tavern. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly I heard footsteps and voices outside; then one voice, louder than + the other, saying, “He hasn’t stirred a peg—lies like a log!” It was + Gabord. + </p> + <p> + Doltaire’s voice replied, “You will not need a surgeon—no?” His + tone, as it seemed to me, was less careless than usual. + </p> + <p> + Gabord answered, “I know the trick of it all—what can a surgeon do? + This brandy will fetch him to his intellects. And by-and-bye crack’ll go + his spine—aho!” + </p> + <p> + You have heard a lion growling on a bone. That is how Gabord’s voice + sounded to me then—a brutal rawness; but it came to my mind also + that this was the man who had brought Voban to do me service! + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, Gabord, crack your jaws less, and see you fetch him on his + feet again,” said Doltaire. “From the seats of the mighty they have said + that he must live—to die another day; and see to it, or the mighty + folk will say that you must die to live another day—in a better + world, my Gabord.” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment in which the only sound was that of tearing linen, and + I could see the shadows of the two upon the stone wall of the corridor + wavering to the light of the torch; then the shadows shifted entirely, and + their footsteps came on towards my door. I was lying on my back as when I + came to, and, therefore, probably as Gabord had left me, and I determined + to appear still in a faint. Through nearly closed eyelids however I saw + Gabord enter. Doltaire stood in the doorway watching as the soldier knelt + and lifted my arm to take off the bloody scarf. His manner was + imperturbable as ever. Even then I wondered what his thoughts were, what + pungent phrase he was suiting to the time and to me. I do not know to this + day which more interested him—that very pungency of phrase, or the + critical events which inspired his reflections. He had no sense of + responsibility; his mind loved talent, skill, and cleverness, and though + it was scathing of all usual ethics, for the crude, honest life of the + poor it had sympathy. I remember remarks of his in the market-place a year + before, as he and I watched the peasant in his sabots and the good-wife in + her homespun cloth. + </p> + <p> + “These are they,” said he, “who will save the earth one day, for they are + like it, kin to it. When they are born they lie close to it, and when they + die they fall no height to reach their graves. The rest—the world—are + like ourselves in dreams: we do not walk; we think we fly, over houses, + over trees, over mountains; and then one blessed instant the spring + breaks, or the dream gets twisted, and we go falling, falling, in a + sickening fear, and, waking up, we find we are and have been on the earth + all the while, and yet can make no claim on it, and have no kin with it, + and no right to ask anything of it—quelle vie—quelle vie!” + </p> + <p> + Sick as I was, I thought of that as he stood there, looking in at me; and + though I knew I ought to hate him, I admired him in spite of all. + </p> + <p> + Presently he said to Gabord, “You’ll come to me at noon to-morrow, and see + you bring good news. He breathes?” + </p> + <p> + Gabord put a hand on my chest and at my neck, and said at once, “Breath + for balloons—aho!” + </p> + <p> + Doltaire threw his cloak over his shoulder and walked away, his footsteps + sounding loud in the passages. Gabord began humming to himself as he tied + the bandages, and then he reached down for the knife to cut the flying + strings. I could see this out of a little corner of my eye. When he did + not find it, he settled back on his haunches and looked at me. I could + feel his lips puffing out, and I was ready for the “Poom!” that came from + him. Then I could feel him stooping over me, and his hot strong breath in + my face. I was so near to unconsciousness at that moment by a sudden + anxiety that perhaps my feigning had the look of reality. In any case, he + thought me unconscious and fancied that he had taken the knife away with + him; for he tucked in the strings of the bandage. Then, lifting my head, + he held the flask to my lips; for which I was most grateful—I was + dizzy and miserably faint. + </p> + <p> + I think I came to with rather more alacrity than was wise, but he was + deceived, and his first words were, “Ho, ho! the devil’s knocking; who’s + for home, angels?” + </p> + <p> + It was his way to put all things allusively, using strange figures and + metaphors. Yet, when one was used to him and to them, their potency seemed + greater than polished speech and ordinary phrase. + </p> + <p> + He offered me more brandy, and then, without preface, I asked him the one + question which sank back on my heart like a load of ice even as I sent it + forth. “Is he alive?” I inquired. “Is Monsieur Juste Duvarney alive?” + </p> + <p> + With exasperating coolness he winked an eye, to connect the event with + what he knew of the letter I had sent to Alixe, and, cocking his head, he + blew out his lips with a soundless laugh, and said: + </p> + <p> + “To whisk the brother off to heaven is to say good-bye to sister and pack + yourself to Father Peter.” + </p> + <p> + “For God’s sake, tell me, is the boy dead?” I asked, my voice cracking in + my throat. + </p> + <p> + “He’s not mounted for the journey yet,” he answered, with a shrug, “but + the Beast is at the door.” + </p> + <p> + I plied my man with questions, and learned that they had carried Juste + into the palace for dead, but found life in him, and straightway used all + means to save him. A surgeon came, his father and mother were sent for, + and when Doltaire had left there was hope that he would live. + </p> + <p> + I learned also that Voban had carried word to the Governor of the deed to + be done that night; had for a long time failed to get admittance to him, + but was at last permitted to tell his story; and Vaudreuil had gone to + Bigot’s palace to have me hurried to the citadel, and had come just too + late. + </p> + <p> + After answering my first few questions, Gabord say nothing more, and + presently he took the torch from the wall and with a gruff good-night + prepared to go. When I asked that a light be left, he shook his head, said + he had no orders. Whereupon he left me, the heavy door clanging to, the + bolts were shot, and I was alone in darkness with my wounds and misery. My + cloak had been put into the cell beside my couch, and this I now drew over + me, and I lay and thought upon my condition and my prospects, which, as + may be seen, were not cheering. I did not suffer great pain from my wounds—only + a stiffness that troubled me not at all if I lay still. After an hour or + so passed—for it is hard to keep count of time when one’s thoughts + are the only timekeeper—I fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + I know not how long I slept, but I awoke refreshed. I stretched forth my + uninjured arm, moving it about. In spite of will a sort of hopelessness + went through me, for I could feel long blades of corn grown up about my + couch, an unnatural meadow, springing from the earth floor of my dungeon. + I drew the blades between my fingers, feeling towards them as if they were + things of life out of place like myself. I wondered what colour they were. + Surely, said I to myself, they can not be green, but rather a yellowish + white, bloodless, having only fibre, the heart all pinched to death. Last + night I had not noted them, yet now, looking back, I saw, as in a picture, + Gabord the soldier feeling among them for the knife that I had taken. So + may we see things, and yet not be conscious of them at the time, waking to + their knowledge afterwards. So may we for years look upon a face without + understanding, and then, suddenly, one day it comes flashing out, and we + read its hidden story like a book. + </p> + <p> + I put my hand out farther, then brought it back near to my couch, feeling + towards its foot mechanically, and now I touched an earthen pan. A small + board lay across its top, and moving my fingers along it I found a piece + of bread. Then I felt the jar, and knew it was filled with water. Sitting + back, I thought hard for a moment. Of this I was sure: the pan and bread + were not there when I went to sleep, for this was the spot where my eyes + fell naturally while I lay in bed looking towards Doltaire; and I should + have remembered it now, even if I had not noted it then. My jailer had + brought these while I slept. But it was still dark. I waked again as + though out of sleep, startled: I was in a dungeon that had no window! + </p> + <p> + Here I was, packed away in a farthest corner of the citadel, in a deep + hole that maybe had not been used for years, to be, no doubt, denied all + contact with the outer world—I was going to say FRIENDS, but whom + could I name among them save that dear soul who, by last night’s madness, + should her brother be dead, was forever made dumb and blind to me? Whom + had I but her and Voban!—and Voban was yet to be proved. The + Seigneur Duvarney had paid all debts he may have owed me, and he now + might, because of the injury to his son, leave me to my fate. On Gabord + the soldier I could not count at all. + </p> + <p> + There I was, as Doltaire had said, like a rat in a trap. But I would not + let panic seize me. So I sat and ate the stale but sweet bread, took a + long drink of the good water from the earthen jar, and then, stretching + myself out, drew my cloak up to my chin, and settled myself for sleep + again. And that I might keep up a kind delusion that I was not quite alone + in the bowels of the earth, I reached out my hand and affectionately drew + the blades of corn between my fingers. + </p> + <p> + Presently I drew my chin down to my shoulder, and let myself drift out of + painful consciousness almost as easily as a sort of woman can call up + tears at will. When I waked again, it was without a start or moving, + without confusion, and I was bitterly hungry. Beside my couch, with his + hands on his hips and his feet thrust out, stood Gabord, looking down at + me in a quizzical and unsatisfied way. A torch was burning near him. + </p> + <p> + “Wake up, my dickey-bird,” said he in his rough, mocking voice, “and we’ll + snuggle you into the pot. You’ve been long hiding; come out of the bush—aho!” + </p> + <p> + I drew myself up painfully. “What is the hour?” I asked, and meanwhile I + looked for the earthen jar and the bread. + </p> + <p> + “Hour since when?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Since it was twelve o’clock last night,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “Fourteen hours since THEN,” said he. + </p> + <p> + The emphasis arrested my attention. “I mean,” I added, “since the fighting + in the courtyard.” + </p> + <p> + “Thirty-six hours and more since then, m’sieu’ the dormouse,” was his + reply. + </p> + <p> + I had slept a day and a half since the doors of this cell closed on me. It + was Friday then; now it was Sunday afternoon. Gabord had come to me three + times, and seeing how sound asleep I was had not disturbed me, but had + brought bread and water—my prescribed diet. + </p> + <p> + He stood there, his feet buried in the blanched corn—I could see the + long yellowish-white blades—the torch throwing shadows about him, + his back against the wall. I looked carefully round my dungeon. There was + no a sign of a window; I was to live in darkness. Yet if I were but + allowed candles, or a lantern, or a torch, some books, paper, pencil, and + tobacco, and the knowledge that I had not killed Juste Duvarney, I could + abide the worst with some sort of calmness. How much might have happened, + must have happened, in all these hours of sleep! My letter to Alixe should + have been delivered long ere this; my trial, no doubt, had been decided + on. What had Voban done? Had he any word for me? Dear Lord! here was a + mass of questions tumbling one upon the other in my head, while my heart + thumped behind my waistcoat like a rubber ball to a prize-fighter’s fist. + Misfortunes may be so great and many that one may find grim humour and + grotesqueness in their impossible conjunction and multiplicity. I + remembered at that moment a friend of mine in Virginia, the most + unfortunate man I ever knew. Death, desertion, money losses, political + defeat, flood, came one upon the other all in two years, and coupled with + this was loss of health. One day he said to me: + </p> + <p> + “Robert, I have a perforated lung, my liver is a swelling sponge, eating + crowds my waistband like a balloon, I have a swimming in my head and a + sinking at my heart, and I can not say litany for happy release from these + for my knees creak with rheumatism. The devil has done his worst, Robert, + for these are his—plague and pestilence, being final, are the will + of God—and, upon my soul, it is an absurd comedy of ills!” At that + he had a fit of coughing, and I gave him a glass of spirits, which eased + him. + </p> + <p> + “That’s better,” said I cheerily to him. + </p> + <p> + “It’s robbing Peter to pay Paul,” he answered; “for I owed it to my head + to put the quid refert there, and here it’s gone to my lungs to hurry up + my breathing. Did you ever think, Robert,” he added, “that this breathing + of ours is a labor, and that we have to work every second to keep + ourselves alive? We have to pump air in and out like a blacksmith’s boy.” + He said it so drolly, though he was deadly ill, that I laughed for half an + hour at the stretch, wiping away my tears as I did it; for his pale gray + face looked so sorry, with its quaint smile and that odd, dry voice of + his. + </p> + <p> + As I sat there in my dungeon, with Gabord cocking his head and his eyes + rolling, that scene flashed on me, and I laughed freely—so much so + that Gabord sulkily puffed out his lips, and flamed like bunting on a + coast-guard’s hut. The more he scowled and spluttered, the more I laughed, + till my wounded side hurt me and my arm had twinges. But my mood changed + suddenly, and I politely begged his pardon, telling him frankly then and + there what had made me laugh, and how I had come to think of it. The flame + passed out of his cheeks, the revolving fire of his eyes dimmed, his lips + broke into a soundless laugh, and then, in his big voice, he said: + </p> + <p> + “You’ve got your knees to pray on yet, and crack my bones, but you’ll have + need to con your penitentials if tattle in the town be true.” + </p> + <p> + “Before you tell of that,” said I, “how is young Monsieur Duvarney? Is—is + he alive?” I added, as I saw his face look lower. + </p> + <p> + “The Beast was at door again last night, wild to be off, and foot of young + Seigneur was in the stirrup, when along comes sister with drug got from an + Indian squaw who nursed her when a child. She gives it him, and he drinks; + they carry him back, sleeping, and Beast must stand there tugging at the + leathers yet.” + </p> + <p> + “His sister—it was his sister,” said I, “that brought him back to + life?” + </p> + <p> + “Like that—aho! They said she must not come, but she will have her + way. Straight she goes to the palace at night, no one knowing but—guess + who? You can’t—but no!” + </p> + <p> + A light broke in on me. “With the Scarlet Woman—with Mathilde,” I + said, hoping in my heart that it was so, for somehow I felt even then that + she, poor vagrant, would play a part in the history of Alixe’s life and + mine. + </p> + <p> + “At the first shot,” he said. “‘Twas the crimson one, as quiet as a baby + chick, not hanging to ma’m’selle’s skirts, but watching and whispering a + little now and then—and she there in Bigot’s palace, and he not + knowing it! And maids do not tell him, for they knew the poor wench in + better days—aho!” + </p> + <p> + I got up with effort and pain, and made to grasp his hand in gratitude, + but he drew back, putting his arms behind him. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said he, “I am your jailer. They’ve put you here to break your + high spirits, and I’m to help the breaking.” + </p> + <p> + “But I thank you just the same,” I answered him; “and I promise to give + you as little trouble as may be while you are my jailer—which, with + all my heart, I hope may be as long as I’m a prisoner.” + </p> + <p> + He waved out his hands to the dungeon walls, and lifted his shoulders as + if to say that I might as well be docile, for the prison was safe enough. + “Poom!” said he, as if in genial disdain of my suggestion. + </p> + <p> + I smiled, and then, after putting my hands on the walls here and there to + see if they were, as they seemed, quite dry, I drew back to my couch and + sat down. Presently I stooped to tip the earthen jar of water to my lips, + for I could not lift it with one hand, but my humane jailer took it from + me and held it to my mouth. When I had drunk, “Do you know,” asked I as + calmly as I could, “if our barber gave the letter to Mademoiselle?” + </p> + <p> + “M’sieu’, you’ve travelled far to reach that question,” said he, jangling + his keys as if he enjoyed it. “And if he had—?” + </p> + <p> + I caught at his vague suggestion, and my heart leaped. + </p> + <p> + “A reply,” said I, “a message or a letter,” though I had not dared to let + myself even think of that. + </p> + <p> + He whipped a tiny packet from his coat. “‘Tis a sparrow’s pecking—no + great matter here, eh?”—he weighed it up and down on his fingers—“a + little piping wren’s par pitie.” + </p> + <p> + I reached out for it. “I should read it,” said he. “There must be no more + of this. But new orders came AFTER I’d got her dainty a m’sieu’! Yes, I + must read it,” said he—“but maybe not at first,” he added, “not at + first, if you’ll give word of honour not to tear it.” + </p> + <p> + “On my sacred honour,” said I, reaching out still. + </p> + <p> + He looked it all over again provokingly, and then lifted it to his nose, + for it had a delicate perfume. Then he gave a little grunt of wonder and + pleasure, and handed it over. + </p> + <p> + I broke the seal, and my eyes ran swiftly through the lines, traced in a + firm, delicate hand. I could see through it all the fine, sound nature, by + its healthy simplicity mastering anxiety, care, and fear. + </p> + <p> + “Robert,” she wrote, “by God’s help my brother will live, to repent with + you, I trust, of Friday night’s ill work. He was near gone, yet we have + held him back from that rough-rider, Death. + </p> + <p> + “You will thank God, will you not, that my brother did not die? Indeed, I + feel you have. I do not blame you; I know—I need not tell you how—the + heart of the affair; and even my mother can see through the wretched + thing. My father says little, and he has not spoken harshly; for which I + gave thanksgiving this morning in the chapel of the Ursulines. Yet you are + in a dungeon, covered with wounds of my brother’s making, both of you + victims of others’ villainy, and you are yet to bear worse things, for + they are to try you for your life. But never shall I believe that they + will find you guilty of dishonour. I have watched you these three years; I + do not, nor ever will, doubt you, dear friend of my heart. + </p> + <p> + “You would not believe it, Robert, and you may think it fanciful, but as I + got up from my prayers at the chapel I looked towards a window, and it + being a little open, for it is a sunny day, there sat a bird on the sill, + a little brown bird that peeped and nodded. I was so won by it that I came + softly over to it. It did not fly away, but hopped a little here and + there. I stretched out my hand gently on the stone, and putting its head + now this side, now that, at last it tripped into it, and chirped most + sweetly. After I had kissed it I placed it back on the window-sill, that + it might fly away again. Yet no, it would not go, but stayed there, + tipping its gold-brown head at me as though it would invite me to guess + why it came. Again I reached out my hand, and once more it tripped into + it. I stood wondering and holding it to my bosom, when I heard a voice + behind me say, ‘The bird would be with thee, my child. God hath many + signs.’ I turned and saw the good Mere St. George looking at me, she of + whom I was always afraid, so distant is she. I did not speak, but only + looked at her, and she nodded kindly at me and passed on. + </p> + <p> + “And, Robert, as I write to you here in the Intendant’s palace (what a + great wonderful place it is! I fear I do not hate it and its luxury as I + ought!), the bird is beside me in a cage upon the table, with a little + window open, so that it may come out if it will. My brother lies in the + bed asleep; I can touch him if I but put out my hand, and I am alone save + for one person. You sent two messengers: can you not guess the one that + will be with me? Poor Mathilde, she sits and gazes at me till I almost + fall weeping. But she seldom speaks, she is so quiet—as if she knew + that she must keep a secret. For, Robert, though I know you did not tell + her, she knows—she knows that you love me, and she has given me a + little wooden cross which she said will make us happy. + </p> + <p> + “My mother did not drive her away, as I half feared she would, and at last + she said that I might house her with one of our peasants. Meanwhile she is + with me here. She is not so mad but that she has wisdom too, and she shall + have my care and friendship. + </p> + <p> + “I bid thee to God’s care, Robert. I need not tell thee to be not + dismayed. Thou hast two jails, and one wherein I lock thee safe is warm + and full of light. If the hours drag by, think of all thou wouldst do if + thou wert free to go to thine own country—yet alas that thought!—and + of what thou wouldst say if thou couldst speak to thy ALIXE. + </p> + <p> + “Postscript.—I trust that they have cared for thy wounds, and that + thou hast light and food and wine. Voban hath promised to discover this + for me. The soldier Gabord, at the citadel, he hath a good heart. Though + thou canst expect no help from him, yet he will not be rougher than his + orders. He did me a good service once, and he likes me, and I him. And so + fare thee well, Robert. I will not languish; I will act, and not be weary. + Dost thou really love me?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. THE DEVICE OF THE DORMOUSE + </h2> + <p> + When I had read the letter, I handed it up to Gabord without a word. A + show of trust in him was the only thing, for he had enough knowledge of + our secret to ruin us, if he chose. He took the letter, turned it over, + looking at it curiously, and at last, with a shrug of the shoulders, + passed it back. + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis a long tune on a dot of a fiddle,” said he, for indeed the letter + was but a small affair in bulk. “I’d need two pairs of eyes and telescope! + Is it all Heart-o’-my-heart, and Come-trip-in-dewy-grass—aho? Or is + there knave at window to bear m’sieu’ away?” + </p> + <p> + I took the letter from him. “Listen,” said I, “to what the lady says of + you.” And then I read him that part of her postscript which had to do with + himself. + </p> + <p> + He put his head on one side like a great wise magpie, and “H’m—ha!” + said he whimsically, “aho! Gabord the soldier, Gabord, thou hast a good + heart—and the birds fed the beast with plums and froth of comfits + till he died, and on his sugar tombstone they carved the words, ‘Gabord + had a good heart.’” + </p> + <p> + “It was spoken out of a true spirit,” said I petulantly, for I could not + bear from a common soldier even a tone of disparagement, though I saw the + exact meaning of his words. So I added, “You shall read the whole letter, + or I will read it to you and you shall judge. On the honour of a + gentleman, I will read all of it!” + </p> + <p> + “Poom!” said he, “English fire-eater! corn-cracker! Show me the ‘good + heart’ sentence, for I’d see how it is written—how GABORD looks with + a woman’s whimsies round it.” + </p> + <p> + I traced the words with my fingers, holding the letter near the torch. + “‘Yet he will not be rougher than his orders,’” said he after me, and “‘He + did me a good service once.’” + </p> + <p> + “Comfits,” he continued; “well, thou shalt have comfits, too,” and he + fished from his pocket a parcel. It was my tobacco and my pipe. + </p> + <p> + Truly, my state might have been vastly worse. Little more was said between + Gabord and myself, but he refused bluntly to carry message or letter to + anybody, and bade me not to vex him with petitions. But he left me the + torch and a flint and steel, so I had light for a space, and I had my + blessed tobacco and pipe. When the doors clanged shut and the bolts were + shot, I lay back on my couch. + </p> + <p> + I was not all unhappy. Thank God, they had not put chains on me, as + Governor Dinwiddie had done with a French prisoner at Williamsburg, for + whom I had vainly sought to be exchanged two years before, though he was + my equal in all ways and importance. Doltaire was the cause of that, as + you shall know. Well, there was one more item to add to his indebtedness. + My face flushed and my fingers tingled at thought of him, and so I + resolutely turned my meditations elsewhere, and again in a little while I + seemed to think of nothing, but lay and bathed in the silence, and + indulged my eyes with the good red light of the torch, inhaling its pitchy + scent. I was conscious, yet for a time I had no thought: I was like + something half animal, half vegetable, which feeds, yet has no mouth, nor + sees, nor hears, nor has sense, but only lives. I seemed hung in space, as + one feels when going from sleep to waking—a long lane of half-numb + life, before the open road of full consciousness is reached. + </p> + <p> + At last I was aroused by the sudden cracking of a knot in the torch. I saw + that it would last but a few hours more. I determined to put it out, for I + might be allowed no more light, and even a few minutes of this torch every + day would be a great boon. So I took it from its place, and was about to + quench it in the moist earth at the foot of the wall, when I remembered my + tobacco and my pipe. Can you think how joyfully I packed full the good + brown bowl, delicately filling in every little corner, and at last held it + to the flame, and saw it light? That first long whiff was like the indrawn + breath of the cold, starved hunter, when, stepping into his house, he sees + food, fire, and wife on his hearthstone. Presently I put out the + torchlight, and then went back to my couch and sat down, the bowl shining + like a star before me. + </p> + <p> + There and then a purpose came to me—something which would keep my + brain from wandering, my nerves from fretting and wearing, for a time at + least. I determined to write to my dear Alixe the true history of my life, + even to the point—and after—of this thing which now was + bringing me to so ill a pass. But I was in darkness, I had no paper, pens, + nor ink. After a deal of thinking I came at last to the solution. I would + compose the story, and learn it by heart, sentence by sentence, as I so + composed it. + </p> + <p> + So there and then I began to run back over the years of my life, even to + my first remembrances, that I might see it from first to last in a sort of + whole and with a kind of measurement. But when I began to dwell upon my + childhood, one little thing gave birth to another swiftly, as you may see + one flicker in the heaven multiply and break upon the mystery of the dark, + filling the night with clusters of stars. As I thought, I kept drawing + spears of the dungeon corn between my fingers softly (they had come to be + like comrades to me), and presently there flashed upon me the very first + memory of my life. It had never come to me before, and I knew now that it + was the beginning of conscious knowledge: for we can never know till we + can remember. When a child remembers what it sees or feels, it has begun + life. + </p> + <p> + I put that recollection into the letter which I wrote Alixe, and it shall + be set down forthwith and in little space, though it took me so very many + days and weeks to think it out, to give each word a fixed place, so that + it should go from my mind no more. Every phrase of that story as I told it + is as fixed as stone in my memory. Yet it must not be thought I can give + it all here. I shall set down only a few things, but you shall find in + them the spirit of the whole. I will come at once to the body of the + letter. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. MORAY TELLS THE STORY OF HIS LIFE + </h2> + <p> + “...I would have you know of what I am and whence I came, though I have + given you glimpses in the past. That done, I will make plain why I am + charged with this that puts my life in danger, which would make you blush + that you ever knew me if it were true. And I will show you first a picture + as it runs before me, sitting here, the corn of my dungeon garden twining + in my fingers:— + </p> + <p> + “A multiplying width of green grass spotted with white flowers, an upland + where sheep browsed on a carpet of purple and gold and green, a tall rock + on a hill where birds perched and fluttered, a blue sky arching over all. + There, sprawling in a garden, a child pulled at long blades of grass, as + he watched the birds flitting about the rocks, and heard a low voice + coming down the wind. Here in my dungeon I can hear the voice as I have + not heard it since that day in the year 1730—that voice stilled so + long ago. The air and the words come floating down (for the words I knew + years afterwards): + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Did ye see the white cloud in the glint o’ the sun? + That’s the brow and the eye o’ my bairnie. + Did ye ken the red bloom at the bend o’ the crag? + That’s the rose in the cheek o’ my bairnie. + Did ye hear the gay lilt o’ the lark by the burn? + That’s the voice of my bairnie, my dearie. + Did ye smell the wild scent in the green o’ the wood? + That’s the breath o’ my ain, o’ my bairnie. + Sae I’ll gang awa’ hame, to the shine o’ the fire, + To the cot where I lie wi’ my bairnie.’ +</pre> + <p> + “These words came crooning over the grass of that little garden at Balmore + which was by my mother’s home. There I was born one day in June, though I + was reared in the busy streets of Glasgow, where my father was a + prosperous merchant and famous for his parts and honesty. + </p> + <p> + “I see myself, a little child of no great strength, for I was, indeed, the + only one of my family who lived past infancy, and my mother feared she + should never bring me up. She, too, is in that picture, tall, delicate, + kind yet firm of face, but with a strong brow, under which shone grave + gray eyes, and a manner so distinguished that none might dispute her + kinship to the renowned Montrose, who was lifted so high in dying, though + his gallows was but thirty feet, that all the world has seen him there. + There was one other in that picture, standing near my mother, and looking + at me, who often used to speak of our great ancestor—my grandfather, + John Mitchell, the Gentleman of Balmore, as he was called, out of regard + for his ancestry and his rare merits. + </p> + <p> + “I have him well in mind: his black silk breeches and white stockings and + gold seals, and two eyes that twinkled with great humour when, as he + stooped over me, I ran my head between his calves and held him tight. I + recall how my mother said, ‘I doubt that I shall ever bring him up,’ and + how he replied (the words seem to come through great distances to me), + ‘He’ll live to be Montrose the second, rascal laddie! Four seasons at the + breast? Tut, tut! what o’ that? ‘Tis but his foolery, his scampishness! + Nae, nae! his epitaph’s no for writing till you and I are tucked i’ the + sod, my Jeanie. Then, like Montrose’s, it will be— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Tull Edinburrow they led him thair, + And on a gallows hong; + They hong him high abone the rest, + He was so trim a boy.’ +</pre> + <p> + “I can hear his laugh this minute, as he gave an accent to the words by + stirring me with his stick, and I caught the gold head of it and carried + it off, trailing it through the garden, till I heard my mother calling, + and then forced her to give me chase, as I pushed open a little gate and + posted away into that wide world of green, coming quickly to the river, + where I paused and stood at bay. I can see my mother’s anxious face now, + as she caught me to her arms; and yet I know she had a kind of pride, too, + when my grandfather said, on our return, ‘The rascal’s at it early. Next + time he’ll ford the stream and skirl at ye, Jeanie, from yonder bank.’ + </p> + <p> + “This is the first of my life that I remember. It may seem strange to you + that I thus suddenly recall not only it, but the words then spoken too. It + is strange to me, also. But here it comes to me all on a sudden in this + silence, as if another self of me were speaking from far places. At first + all is in patches and confused, and then it folds out—if not + clearly, still so I can understand—and the words I repeat come as if + filtered through many brains to mine. I do not say that it is true—it + may be dreams; and yet, as I say, it is firmly in my mind. + </p> + <p> + “The next that I remember was climbing upon a chair to reach for my + grandfather’s musket, which hung across the chimney. I got at last upon + the mantelshelf, and my hands were on the weapon, when the door opened, + and my grandfather and my father entered. I was so busy I did not hear + them till I was caught by the legs and swung to a shoulder, where I sat + kicking. ‘You see his tastes, William,’ said my grandfather to my father; + ‘he’s white o’ face and slim o’ body, but he’ll no carry on your hopes.’ + And more he said to the point, though what it was I knew not. But I think + it to have been suggestion (I heard him say it later) that I would bring + Glasgow up to London by the sword (good doting soul!) as my father brought + it by manufactures, gaining honour thereby. + </p> + <p> + “However that may be, I would not rest till my grandfather had put the + musket into my arms. I could scarcely lift it, but from the first it had a + charm for me, and now and then, in spite of my mother’s protests, I was + let to handle it, to learn its parts, to burnish it, and by-and-bye—I + could not have been more than six years old—to rest it on a rock and + fire it off. It kicked my shoulder roughly in firing, but I know I did not + wink as I pulled the trigger. Then I got a wild hunger to fire it at all + times; so much so, indeed, that powder and shot were locked up, and the + musket was put away in my grandfather’s chest. But now and again it was + taken out, and I made war upon the unresisting hillside, to the dismay of + our neighbours in Balmore. Feeding the fever in my veins, my grandfather + taught me soldiers’ exercises and the handling of arms: to my dear + mother’s sorrow, for she ever fancied me as leading a merchant’s quiet + life like my father’s, hugging the hearthstone, and finding joy in small + civic duties, while she and my dear father sat peacefully watching me in + their decline of years. + </p> + <p> + “I have told you of that river which flowed near my father’s house. At + this time most of my hours were spent by it in good weather, for at last + my mother came to trust me alone there, having found her alert fears of + little use. But she would very often come with me and watch me as I played + there. I loved to fancy myself a miller, and my little mill-wheel, made by + my own hands, did duty here and there on the stream, and many drives of + logs did I, in fancy, saw into piles of lumber, and loads of flour sent + away to the City of Desire. Then, again, I made bridges, and drove mimic + armies across them; and if they were enemies, craftily let them partly + cross, to tumble them in at the moment when part of the forces were on one + side of the stream and part on the other, and at the mercy of my men. + </p> + <p> + “My grandfather taught me how to build forts and breastworks, and I lay in + ambush for the beadle, who was my good friend, for my grandfather, and for + half a dozen other village folk, who took no offense at my sport, but made + believe to be bitterly afraid when I surrounded them and drove them, + shackled, to my fort by the river. Little by little the fort grew, until + it was a goodly pile; for now and then a village youth helped me, or again + an old man, whose heart, maybe, rejoiced to play at being child again with + me. Years after, whenever I went back to Balmore, there stood the fort, + for no one ever meddled with it, nor tore it down. + </p> + <p> + “And I will tell you one reason why this was, and you will think it + strange that it should have played such a part in the history of the + village, as in my own life. You must know that people living in secluded + places are mostly superstitious. Well, when my fort was built to such + proportions that a small ladder must be used to fix new mud and mortar in + place upon it, something happened. + </p> + <p> + “Once a year there came to Balmore—and he had done so for a + generation—one of those beings called The Men, who are given to + prayer, fasting, and prophesying, who preach the word of warning ever, + calling even the ministers of the Lord sharply to account. One day this + Man came past my fort, folk with him, looking for preaching or prophesy + from him. Suddenly turning he came inside my fort, and, standing upon the + ladder against the wall, spoke to them fervently. His last words became a + legend in Balmore, and spread even to Glasgow and beyond. + </p> + <p> + “‘Hear me!’ cried he. ‘As I stand looking at ye from this wall, calling on + ye in your natural bodies to take refuge in the Fort of God, the Angel of + Death is looking ower the battlements of heaven, choosing ye out, the + sheep frae the goats; calling the one to burning flames, and the other + into peaceable habitations. I hear the voice now,’ cried he, ‘and some + soul among us goeth forth. Flee ye to the Fort of Refuge.’ I can see him + now, his pale face shining, his eyes burning, his beard blowing in the + wind, his grizzled hair shaking on his forehead. I had stood within the + fort watching him. At last he turned, and, seeing me intent, stooped, + caught me by the arms, and lifted me upon the wall. ‘See you,’ said he, + ‘yesterday’s babe a warrior to-day. Have done, have done, ye quarrelsome + hearts. Ye that build forts here shall lie in darksome prisons; there is + no fort but the Fort of God. The call comes frae the white ramparts. + Hush!’ he added solemnly, raising a finger. ‘One of us goeth hence this + day; are ye ready to walk i’ the fearsome valley?’ + </p> + <p> + “I have heard my mother speak these words over often, and they were, as I + said, like an old song in Balmore and Glasgow. He set me down, and then + walked away, waving the frightened people back; and there was none of them + that slept that night. + </p> + <p> + “Now comes the stranger thing. In the morning The Man was found dead in my + little fort, at the foot of the wall. Henceforth the spot was sacred, and + I am sure it stands there as when last I saw it twelve years ago, but worn + away by rains and winds. + </p> + <p> + “Again and again my mother said over to me his words, ‘Ye that build forts + here shall lie in darksome prisons’; for always she had fear of the + soldier’s life, and she was moved by signs and dreams. + </p> + <p> + “But this is how the thing came to shape my life: + </p> + <p> + “About a year after The Man died, there came to my grandfather’s house, my + mother and I being present, a gentleman, by name Sir John Godric, and he + would have my mother tell the whole story of The Man. That being done, he + said that The Man was his brother, who had been bad and wild in youth, a + soldier; but repenting had gone as far the other way, giving up place and + property, and cutting off from all his kin. + </p> + <p> + “This gentleman took much notice of me and said that he should be glad to + see more of me. And so he did, for in the years that followed he would + visit at our home in Glasgow when I was at school, or at Balmore until my + grandfather died. + </p> + <p> + “My father liked Sir John greatly, and they grew exceedingly friendly, + walking forth in the streets of Glasgow, Sir John’s hand upon my father’s + arm. One day they came to the school in High Street, where I learned Latin + and other accomplishments, together with fencing from an excellent master, + Sergeant Dowie of the One Hundredth Foot. They found me with my regiment + at drill; for I had got full thirty of my school-fellows under arms, and + spent all leisure hours in mustering, marching, and drum-beating, and + practising all manner of discipline and evolution which I had been taught + by my grandfather and Sergeant Dowie. + </p> + <p> + “Those were the days soon after which came Dettingen and Fontenoy and + Charles Edward the Pretender, and the ardour of arms ran high. Sir John + was a follower of the Stuarts, and this was the one point at which he and + my father paused in their good friendship. When Sir John saw me with my + thirty lads marching in fine order, all fired with the little sport of + battle—for to me it was all real, and our sham fights often saw + broken heads and bruised shoulders—he stamped his cane upon the + ground, and said in a big voice, ‘Well done! well done! For that you shall + have a hundred pounds next birthday, and as fine a suit of scarlet as you + please, and a sword from London too.’ + </p> + <p> + “Then he came to me and caught me by both shoulders. ‘But alack, alack! + there needs some blood and flesh here, Robert Moray,’ said he. ‘You have + more heart than muscle.’ + </p> + <p> + “This was true. I had ever been more eager than my strength—thank + God, that day is gone!—and sometimes, after Latin and the drill of + my Lightfoots, as I called them, I could have cried for weakness and + weariness, had I been a girl and not a proud lad. And Sir John kept his + word, liking me better from that day forth, and coming now and again to + see me at the school,—though he was much abroad in France—giving + many a pound to my Lightfoots, who were no worse soldiers for that. His + eye ran us over sharply, and his head nodded, as we marched past him; and + once I heard him say, ‘If they had had but ten years each on their heads, + my Prince!’ + </p> + <p> + “About this time my father died—that is, when I was fourteen years + old. Sir John became one of the executors with my mother, and at my wish, + a year afterwards, I was sent to the university, where at least fifteen of + my Lightfoots went also; and there I formed a new battalion of them, + though we were watched at first, and even held in suspicion, because of + the known friendship of Sir John for me; and he himself had twice been + under arrest for his friendship to the Stuart cause. That he helped Prince + Charles was clear: his estates were mortgaged to the hilt. + </p> + <p> + “He died suddenly on that day of January when Culloden was fought, before + he knew of the defeat of the Prince. I was with him at the last. After + some most serious business, which I shall come to by-and-bye, ‘Robert,’ + said he, ‘I wish thou hadst been with my Prince. When thou becomest a + soldier, fight where thou hast heart to fight; but if thou hast conscience + for it, let it be with a Stuart. I thought to leave thee a good moiety of + my fortune, Robert, but little that’s free is left for giving. Yet thou + hast something from thy father, and down in Virginia, where my friend + Dinwiddie is Governor, there’s a plantation for thee, and a purse of gold, + which was for me in case I should have cause to flee this troubled realm. + But I need it not; I go for refuge to my Father’s house. The little + vineyard and the purse of gold are for thee, Robert. If thou thinkest well + of it, leave this sick land for that new one. Build thyself a name in that + great young country, wear thy sword honourably and bravely, use thy gifts + in council and debate—for Dinwiddie will be thy friend—and + think of me as one who would have been a father to thee if he could. Give + thy good mother my loving farewells.... Forget not to wear my sword—it + has come from the first King Charles himself, Robert.’ + </p> + <p> + “After which he raised himself upon his elbow and said, ‘Life—life, + is it so hard to untie the knot?’ Then a twinge of agony crossed over his + face, and afterwards came a great clearing and peace, and he was gone. + </p> + <p> + “King George’s soldiers entered with a warrant for him even as he died, + and the same moment dropped their hands upon my shoulder. I was kept in + durance for many days, and was not even at the funeral of my benefactor; + but through the efforts of the provost of the university and some good + friends who could vouch for my loyal principles, I was released. But my + pride had got a setback, and I listened with patience to my mother’s + prayers that I would not join the King’s men. With the anger of a youth, I + now blamed his Majesty for the acts of Sir John Godric’s enemies. And + though I was a good soldier of the King at heart, I would not serve him + henceforth. We threshed matters back and forth, and presently it was + thought I should sail to Virginia to take over my estate. My mother urged + it, too, for she thought if I were weaned from my old comrades, military + fame would no longer charm. So she urged me, and go I did, with a + commission from some merchants of Glasgow, to give my visit to the colony + more weight. + </p> + <p> + “It was great pain to leave my mother, but she bore the parting bravely, + and away I set in a good ship. Arrived in Virginia, I was treated with + great courtesy in Williamsburg, and the Governor gave me welcome to his + home for the sake of his old friend; and yet a little for my own, I think, + for we were of one temper, though he was old and I young. We were both + full of impulse and proud, and given to daring hard things, and my + military spirit suited him. + </p> + <p> + “In Virginia I spent a gay and busy year, and came off very well with the + rough but gentlemanly cavaliers, who rode through the wide, sandy streets + of the capital on excellent horses, or in English coaches, with a rusty + sort of show and splendour, but always with great gallantry. The freedom + of the life charmed me, and with rumours of war with the French there + seemed enough to do, whether with the sword or in the House of Burgesses, + where Governor Dinwiddie said his say with more force than complaisance. + So taken was I with the life—my first excursion into the wide + working world—that I delayed my going back to Glasgow, the more so + that some matters touching my property called for action by the House of + Burgesses, and I had to drive the affair to the end. Sir John had done + better by me than he thought, and I thanked him over and over again for + his good gifts. + </p> + <p> + “Presently I got a letter from my father’s old partner to say that my dear + mother was ill. I got back to Glasgow only in time—but how glad I + was of that!—to hear her last words. When my mother was gone I + turned towards Virginia with longing, for I could not so soon go against + her wishes and join the King’s army on the Continent, and less desire had + I to be a Glasgow merchant. Gentlemen merchants had better times in + Virginia. So there was a winding-up of the estate, not greatly to my + pleasure; for it was found that by unwise ventures my father’s partner had + perilled the whole, and lost part of the property. But as it was, I had a + competence and several houses in Glasgow, and I set forth to Virginia with + a goodly sum of money and a shipload of merchandise, which I should sell + to merchants, if it chanced I should become a planter only. I was warmly + welcomed by old friends and by the Governor and his family, and I soon set + up an establishment of my own in Williamsburg, joining with a merchant + there in business, while my land was worked by a neighbouring planter. + </p> + <p> + “Those were hearty days, wherein I made little money, but had much + pleasure in the giving and taking of civilities, in throwing my doors open + to acquaintances, and with my young friend, Mr. Washington, laying the + foundation for a Virginian army, by drill and yearly duty in camp, with + occasional excursions against the Indians. I saw very well what the end of + our troubles with the French would be, and I waited for the time when I + should put to keen use the sword Sir John Godric had given me. Life beat + high then, for I was in the first flush of manhood, and the spirit of a + rich new land was waking in us all, while in our vanity we held to and + cherished forms and customs that one would have thought to see left behind + in London streets and drawing-rooms. These things, these functions in a + small place, kept us a little vain and proud, but, I also hope it gave us + some sense of civic duty. + </p> + <p> + “And now I come to that which will, comrade of my heart, bring home to + your understanding what lies behind the charges against me: + </p> + <p> + “Trouble came between Canada and Virginia. Major Washington, one Captain + Mackaye, and myself marched out to the Great Meadows, where at Fort + Necessity we surrendered, after hard fighting, to a force three times our + number. I, with one Captain Van Braam, became a hostage. Monsieur Coulon + Villiers, the French commander, gave his bond that we should be delivered + up when an officer and two cadets, who were prisoners with us, should be + sent on. It was a choice between Mr. Mackaye of the Regulars and Mr. + Washington, or Mr. Van Braam and myself. I thought of what would be best + for the country; and besides, Monsieur Coulon Villiers pitched upon my + name at once, and held to it. So I gave up my sword to Charles Bedford, my + lieutenant, with more regret than I can tell, for it was sheathed in + memories, charging him to keep it safe—that he would use it worthily + I knew. And so, sorrowfully bidding my friends good-by, away we went upon + the sorry trail of captivity, arriving in due time at Fort Du Quesne, at + the junction of the Ohio and the Monongahela, where I was courteously + treated. There I bettered my French and made the acquaintance of some + ladies from Quebec city, who took pains to help me with their language. + </p> + <p> + “Now, there was one lady to whom I talked with some freedom of my early + life and of Sir John Godric. She was interested in all, but when I named + Sir John she became at once much impressed, and I told her of his great + attachment to Prince Charles. More than once she returned to the subject, + begging me to tell her more; and so I did, still, however, saying nothing + of certain papers Sir John had placed in my care. A few weeks after the + first occasion of my speaking, there was a new arrival at the fort. It was—can + you guess?—Monsieur Doltaire. The night after he came he visited me + in my quarters, and after courteous passages, of which I need not speak, + he suddenly said, ‘You have the papers of Sir John Godric—those + bearing on Prince Charles’s invasion of England?’ + </p> + <p> + “I was stunned by the question, for I could not guess his drift or + purpose, though presently it dawned upon me.—Among the papers were + many letters from a great lady in France, a growing rival with La + Pompadour in the counsels and favour of the King. She it was who had a + secret passion for Prince Charles, and these letters to Sir John, who had + been with the Pretender at Versailles, must prove her ruin if produced. I + had promised Sir John most solemnly that no one should ever have them + while I lived, except the great lady herself, and that I would give them + to her some time, or destroy them. It was Doltaire’s mission to get these + letters, and he had projected a visit to Williamsburg to see me, having + just arrived in Canada, after a search for me in Scotland, when word came + from the lady gossip at Fort Du Quesne (with whom he had been on most + familiar terms in Quebec) that I was there. + </p> + <p> + “When I said I had the papers, he asked me lightly for ‘those compromising + letters,’ remarking that a good price would be paid, and adding my liberty + as a pleasant gift. I instantly refused, and told him I would not be the + weapon of La Pompadour against her rival. With cool persistence he begged + me to think again, for much depended on my answer. + </p> + <p> + “‘See, monsieur le capitaine,’ said he, ‘this little affair at Fort + Necessity, at which you became a hostage, shall or shall not be a war + between England and France as you shall dispose.’ When I asked him how + that was, he said, ‘First, will you swear that you will not, to aid + yourself, disclose what I tell you? You can see that matters will be where + they were an hour ago in any case.’ + </p> + <p> + “I agreed, for I could act even if I might not speak. So I gave my word. + Then he told me that if those letters were not put into his hands, La + Pompadour would be enraged, and fretful and hesitating now, would join + Austria against England, since in this provincial war was convenient cue + for battle. If I gave the letters up, she would not stir, and the disputed + territory between us should be by articles conceded by the French. + </p> + <p> + “I thought much and long, during which he sat smoking and humming, and + seeming to care little how my answer went. At last I turned on him, and + told him I would not give up the letters, and if a war must hang on a whim + of malice, then, by God’s help, the rightness of our cause would be our + strong weapon to bring France to her knees. + </p> + <p> + “‘That is your final answer?’ asked he, rising, fingering his lace, and + viewing himself in a looking-glass upon the wall. + </p> + <p> + “‘I will not change it now or ever,’ answered I. + </p> + <p> + “‘Ever is a long time,’ retorted he, as one might speak to a wilful child. + ‘You shall have time to think and space for reverie. For if you do not + grant this trifle you shall no more see your dear Virginia; and when the + time is ripe you shall go forth to a better land, as the Grande Marquise + shall give you carriage.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘The Articles of Capitulation!’ I broke out protestingly. + </p> + <p> + “He waved his fingers at me. ‘Ah, that,’ he rejoined—‘that is a + matter for conning. You are a hostage. Well, we need not take any wastrel + or nobody the English offer in exchange for you. Indeed, why should we be + content with less than a royal duke? For you are worth more to us just now + than any prince we have; at least so says the Grande Marquise. Is your + mind quite firm to refuse?’ he added, nodding his head in a bored sort of + way. + </p> + <p> + “‘Entirely,’ said I. ‘I will not part with those letters.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘But think once again,’ he urged; ‘the gain of territory to Virginia, the + peace between our countries!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Folly!’ returned I. ‘I know well you overstate the case. You turn a + small intrigue into a game of nations. Yours is a schoolboy’s tale, + Monsieur Doltaire.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘You are something of an ass,’ he mused, and took a pinch of snuff. + </p> + <p> + “‘And you—you have no name,’ retorted I. + </p> + <p> + “I did not know, when I spoke, how this might strike home in two ways or I + should not have said it. I had not meant, of course, that he was King + Louis’s illegitimate son. + </p> + <p> + “‘There is some truth in that,’ he replied patiently, though a red spot + flamed high on his cheeks. ‘But some men need no christening for their + distinction, and others win their names with proper weapons. I am not here + to quarrel with you. I am acting in a large affair, not in a small + intrigue; a century of fate may hang on this. Come with me,’ he added. + ‘You doubt my power, maybe.’ + </p> + <p> + “He opened the door of the cell, and I followed him out, past the + storehouse and the officers’ apartments, to the drawbridge. Standing in + the shadow by the gate, he took keys from his pocket. ‘Here,’ said he, + ‘are what will set you free. This fort is all mine: I act for France. Will + you care to free yourself? You shall have escort to your own people. You + see I am most serious,’ he added, laughing lightly. ‘It is not my way to + sweat or worry. You and I hold war and peace in our hands. Which shall it + be? In this trouble France or England will be mangled. It tires one to + think of it when life can be so easy. Now, for the last time,’ he urged, + holding out the keys. ‘Your word of honour that the letters shall be mine—eh?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Never,’ I concluded. ‘England and France are in greater hands than yours + or mine. The God of battles still stands beside the balances.’ + </p> + <p> + “He shrugged a shoulder. ‘Oh well,’ said he, ‘that ends it. It will be + interesting to watch the way of the God of battles. Meanwhile you travel + to Quebec. Remember that however free you may appear you will have + watchers, that when you seem safe you will be in most danger, that in the + end we will have those letters or your life; that meanwhile the war will + go on, that you shall have no share in it, and that the whole power of + England will not be enough to set her hostage free. That is all there is + to say, I think.... Will you have a glass of wine with me?’ he added + courteously, waving a hand towards the commander’s quarters. + </p> + <p> + “I assented, for why, thought I, should there be a personal quarrel + between us? We talked on many things for an hour or more, and his I found + the keenest mind that ever I have met. There was in him a + dispassionateness, a breadth, which seemed most strange in a trifler of + the Court, in an exquisite—for such he was. I sometimes think that + his elegance and flippancy were deliberate, lest he should be taking + himself or life too seriously. His intelligence charmed me, held me, and, + later, as we travelled up to Quebec, I found my journey one long feast of + interest. He was never dull, and his cynicism had an admirable grace and + cordiality. A born intriguer, he still was above intrigue, justifying it + on the basis that life was all sport. In logic a leveller, praising the + moles, as he called them, the champion of the peasant, the apologist for + the bourgeois—who always, he said, had civic virtues—he + nevertheless held that what was was best, that it could not be altered, + and that it was all interesting. ‘I never repent,’ he said to me one day. + ‘I have done after my nature, in the sway and impulse of our time, and as + the King has said, After us the deluge. What a pity it is we shall see + neither the flood nor the ark! And so, when all is done, we shall miss the + most interesting thing of all: ourselves dead and the gap and ruin we + leave behind us. By that, from my standpoint,’ he would add, ‘life is a + failure as a spectacle.’ + </p> + <p> + “Talking in this fashion and in a hundred other ways, we came to Quebec. + And you know in general what happened. I met your honoured father, whose + life I had saved on the Ohio some years before, and he worked for my + comfort in my bondage. You know how exchange after exchange was refused, + and that for near three years I have been here, fretting my soul out, + eager to be fighting in our cause, yet tied hand and foot, wasting time + and losing heart, idle in an enemy’s country. As Doltaire said, war was + declared, but not till he had made here in Quebec last efforts to get + those letters. I do not complain so bitterly of these lost years, since + they have brought me the best gift of my life, your love and friendship; + but my enemies here, commanded from France, have bided their time, till an + accident has given them a cue to dispose of me without openly breaking the + accepted law of nations. They could not decently hang a hostage, for whom + they had signed articles; but they have got their chance, as they think, + to try me for a spy. + </p> + <p> + “Here is the case. When I found that they were determined and had ever + determined to violate their articles, that they never intended to set me + free, I felt absolved from my duty as an officer on parole, and I + therefore secretly sent to Mr. Washington in Virginia a plan of Fort Du + Quesne and one of Quebec. I knew that I was risking my life by so doing, + but that did not deter me. By my promise to Doltaire, I could not tell of + the matter between us, and whatever he has done in other ways, he has + preserved my life; for it would have been easy to have me dropped off by a + stray bullet, or to have accidentally drowned me in the St. Lawrence. I + believe this matter of the letters to be between myself and him and Bigot—and + perhaps not even Bigot, though he must know that La Pompadour has some + peculiar reason for interesting herself in a poor captain of provincials. + You now can see another motive for the duel which was brought about + between your brother and myself. + </p> + <p> + “My plans and letters were given by Mr. Washington to General Braddock, + and the sequel you know: they have fallen into the hands of my enemies, + copies have gone to France, and I am to be tried for my life. Preserving + faith with my enemy Doltaire, I can not plead the real cause of my long + detention; I can only urge that they had not kept to their articles, and + that I, therefore, was free from the obligations of parole. I am sure they + have no intention of giving me the benefit of any doubt. My real hope lies + in escape and the intervention of England, though my country, alas! has + not concerned herself about me, as if indeed she resented the non-delivery + of those letters to Doltaire, since they were addressed to one she looked + on as a traitor, and held by one whom she had unjustly put under + suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “So, dear Alixe, from that little fort on the banks of the river Kelvin + have come these strange twistings of my life, and I can date this dismal + fortune of a dungeon from that day The Man made his prophecy from the wall + of my mud fort. + </p> + <p> + “Whatever comes now, if you have this record, you will know the private + history of my life.... I have told all, with unpractised tongue, but with + a wish to be understood, and to set forth a story of which the letter + should be as true as the spirit. Friend beyond all price to me, some day + this tale will reach your hands, and I ask you to house it in your heart, + and, whatever comes, let it be for my remembrance. God be with you, and + farewell!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. “QUOTH LITTLE GARAINE” + </h2> + <p> + I have given the whole story here as though it had been thought out and + written that Sunday afternoon which brought me good news of Juste + Duvarney. But it was not so. I did not choose to break the run of the tale + to tell of other things and of the passing of time. The making took me + many, many weeks, and in all that time I had seen no face but Gabord’s, + and heard no voice but his, when he came twice a day to bring me bread and + water. He would answer no questions concerning Juste Duvarney, or Voban, + or Monsieur Doltaire, nor tell me anything of what was forward in the + town. He had had his orders precise enough, he said. At the end of my + hints and turnings and approaches, stretching himself up, and turning the + corn about with his foot (but not crushing it, for he saw that I prized + the poor little comrades), he would say: + </p> + <p> + “Snug, snug, quiet and warm! The cosiest nest in the world—aho!” + </p> + <p> + There was no coaxing him, and at last I desisted. I had no light. With + resolution I set my mind to see in spite of the dark, and at the end of a + month I was able to note the outlines of my dungeon; nay, more, I was able + to see my field of corn; and at last what joy I had when, hearing a little + rustle near me, I looked closely and beheld a mouse running across the + floor! I straightway began to scatter crumbs of bread, that it might, + perhaps, come near me—as at last it did. + </p> + <p> + I have not spoken at all of my wounds, though they gave me many painful + hours, and I had no attendance but my own and Gabord’s. The wound in my + side was long healing, for it was more easily disturbed as I turned in my + sleep, while I could ease my arm at all times, and it came on slowly. My + sufferings drew on my flesh, my blood, and my spirits, and to this was + added that disease inaction, the corrosion of solitude, and the fever of + suspense and uncertainty as to Alixe and Juste Duvarney. Every hour, every + moment that I had ever passed in Alixe’s presence, with many little + incidents and scenes in which we shared, passed before me—vivid and + cherished pictures of the mind. One of those incidents I will set down + here. + </p> + <p> + A year or so before, soon after Juste Duvarney came from Montreal, he + brought in one day from hunting a young live hawk, and put it in a cage. + When I came the next morning, Alixe met me, and asked me to see what he + had brought. There, beside the kitchen door, overhung with morning-glories + and flanked by hollyhocks, was a large green cage, and in it the + gray-brown hawk. “Poor thing, poor prisoned thing!” she said. “Look how + strange and hunted it seems! See how its feathers stir! And those + flashing, watchful eyes, they seem to read through you, and to say, ‘Who + are you? What do you want with me? Your world is not my world; your air is + not my air; your homes are holes, and mine hangs high up between you and + God. Who are you? Why do you pen me? You have shut me in that I may not + travel, not even die out in the open world. All the world is mine; yours + is only a stolen field. Who are you? What do you want with me? There is a + fire within my head, it eats to my eyes, and I burn away. What do you want + with me?’” + </p> + <p> + She did not speak these words all at once as I have written them here, but + little by little, as we stood there beside the cage. Yet, as she talked + with me, her mind was on the bird, her fingers running up and down the + cage bars soothingly, her voice now and again interjecting soft + reflections and exclamations. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I set it free?” I asked her. + </p> + <p> + She turned upon me and replied, “Ah, monsieur, I hoped you would—without + my asking. You are a prisoner too,” she added; “one captive should feel + for another.” + </p> + <p> + “And the freeman for both,” I answered meaningly, as I softly opened the + cage. + </p> + <p> + She did not drop her eyes, but raised them shining honestly and frankly to + mine, and said, “I wished you to think that.” + </p> + <p> + Opening the cage door wide, I called the little captive to freedom. But + while we stood close by it would not stir, and the look in its eyes became + wilder. I moved away, and Alixe followed me. Standing beside an old well + we waited and watched. Presently the hawk dropped from the perch, hopped + to the door, then with a wild spring was gone, up, up, up, and was away + over the maple woods beyond, lost in the sun and the good air. + </p> + <p> + I know not quite why I dwell on this scene, save that it throws some + little light upon her nature, and shows how simple and yet deep she was in + soul, and what was the fashion of our friendship. But I can perhaps give a + deeper insight of her character if I here set down the substance of a + letter written about that time, which came into my possession long + afterwards. It was her custom to write her letters first in a book, and + afterwards to copy them for posting. This she did that they might be an + impulse to her friendships and a record of her feelings. + </p> + <p> + ALIXE DUVARNEY TO LUCIE LOTBINIERE. + </p> + <p> + QUEBEC CITY, the 10th of May, 1756. + </p> + <p> + MY DEAR LUCIE: I wish I knew how to tell you all I have been thinking + since we parted at the door of the Ursulines a year ago. Then we were + going to meet again in a few weeks, and now twelve months have gone! How + have I spent them? Not wickedly, I hope, and yet sometimes I wonder if + Mere St. George would quite approve of me; for I have such wild spirits + now and then, and I shout and sing in the woods and along the river as if + I were a mad youngster home from school. But indeed, that is the way I + feel at times, though again I am so quiet that I am frightened of myself. + I am a hawk to-day and a mouse to-morrow, and fond of pleasure all the + time. Ah, what good days I have had with Juste! You remember him before he + went to Montreal? He is gay, full of fancies, as brave as can be, and + plays and sings well, but he is very hot-headed, and likes to play the + tyrant. We have some bad encounters now and then. But we love each other + better for it; he respects me, and he does not become spoiled, as you will + see when you come to us. + </p> + <p> + I have had no society yet. My mother thinks seventeen years too few to + warrant my going into the gay world. I wonder will my wings be any + stronger, will there be less danger of scorching them at twenty-six? Years + do not make us wise; one may be as wise at twenty as at fifty. And they do + not save us from the scorching. I know more than they guess how cruel the + world may be to the innocent as to—the other. One can not live + within sight of the Intendant’s palace and the Chateau St. Louis without + learning many things; and, for myself, though I hunger for all the joys of + life, I do not fret because my mother holds me back from the gay doings in + the town. I have my long walks, my fishing and rowing, and sometimes + hunting, with Juste and my sweet sister Georgette, my drawing, painting, + music, and needlework, and my housework. + </p> + <p> + Yet I am not entirely happy, I do not know quite why. Do you ever feel as + if there were some sorrow far back in you, which now and then rushed in + and flooded your spirits, and then drew back, and you could not give it a + name? Well, that is the way with me. Yesterday, as I stood in the kitchen + beside our old cook Jovin, she said a kind word to me, and my eyes filled, + and I ran up to my room, and burst into tears as I lay upon my bed. I + could not help it. I thought at first it was because of the poor hawk that + Captain Moray and I set free yesterday morning; but it could not have been + that, for it was FREE when I cried, you see. You know, of course, that he + saved my father’s life, some years ago? That is one reason why he has been + used so well in Quebec, for otherwise no one would have lessened the + rigours of his captivity. But there are tales that he is too curious about + our government and state, and so he may be kept close jailed, though he + only came here as a hostage. He is much at our home, and sometimes walks + with Juste and me and Georgette, and accompanies my mother in the streets. + This is not to the liking of the Intendant, who loves not my father + because he is such a friend of our cousin the Governor. If their lives and + characters be anything to the point the Governor must be in the right. + </p> + <p> + In truth, things are in a sad way here, for there is robbery on every + hand, and who can tell what the end may be? Perhaps that we go to the + English after all. Monsieur Doltaire—you do not know him, I think—says, + “If the English eat us, as they swear they will, they’ll die of megrims, + our affairs are so indigestible.” At another time he said, “Better to be + English than to be damned.” And when some one asked him what he meant, he + said, “Is it not read from the altar, ‘Cursed is he that putteth his trust + in man’? The English trust nobody, and we trust the English.” That was + aimed at Captain Moray, who was present, and I felt it a cruel thing for + him to say; but Captain Moray, smiling at the ladies, said, “Better to be + French and damned than not to be French at all.” And this pleased Monsieur + Doltaire, who does not love him. I know not why, but there are vague + whispers that he is acting against the Englishman for causes best known at + Versailles, which have nothing to do with our affairs here. I do believe + that Monsieur Doltaire would rather hear a clever thing than get ten + thousand francs. At such times his face lights up, he is at once on his + mettle, his eyes look almost fiendishly beautiful. He is a handsome man, + but he is wicked, and I do not think he has one little sense of morals. I + do not suppose he would stab a man in the back, or remove his neighbour’s + landmark in the night, though he’d rob him of it in open daylight, and + call it “enterprise”—a usual word with him. + </p> + <p> + He is a favourite with Madame Cournal, who influences Bigot most, and one + day we may see the boon companions at each other’s throats; and if either + falls, I hope it maybe Bigot, for Monsieur Doltaire is, at least, no + robber. Indeed, he is kind to the poor in a disdainful sort of way. He + gives to them and scoffs at them at the same moment; a bad man, with just + enough natural kindness to make him dangerous. I have not seen much of the + world, but some things we know by instinct; we feel them; and I often + wonder if that is not the way we know everything in the end. Sometimes + when I take my long walks, or go and sit beside the Falls of Montmorenci, + looking out to the great city on the Heights, to dear Isle Orleans, where + we have our pretty villa (we are to go there next week for three months—happy + summer months), up at the blue sky and into the deep woods, I have strange + feelings, which afterwards become thoughts; and sometimes they fly away + like butterflies, but oftener they stay with me, and I give them a little + garden to roam in—you can guess where. Now and then I call them out + of the garden and make them speak, and then I set down what they say in my + journal; but I think they like their garden best. You remember the song we + used to sing at school? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Where do the stars grow, little Garaine? + The garden of moons, is it far away? + The orchard of suns, my little Garaine, + Will you take us there some day?’ + + “‘If you shut your eyes,’ quoth little Garaine, + ‘I will show you the way to go + To the orchard of suns, and the garden of moons, + And the field where the stars do grow. + + “‘But you must speak soft,’ quoth little Garaine, + ‘And still must your footsteps be, + For a great bear prowls in the field of the stars, + And the moons they have men to see. + + “‘And the suns have the Children of Signs to guard, + And they have no pity at all— + You must not stumble, you must not speak, + When you come to the orchard wall. + + “‘The gates are locked,’ quoth little Garaine, + ‘But the way I am going to tell? + The key of your heart it will open them all: + And there’s where the darlings dwell!’” + </pre> + <p> + You may not care to read these lines again, but it helps to show what I + mean: that everything is in the heart, and that nothing is at all if we do + not feel it. Sometimes I have spoken of these things to my mother, but she + does not see as I do. I dare not tell my father all I think, and Juste is + so much a creature of moods that I am never sure whether he will be + sensible and kind, or scoff. One can not bear to be laughed at. And as for + my sister, she never thinks; she only lives; and she looks it—looks + beautiful. But there, dear Lucie, I must not tire you with my childish + philosophy, though I feel no longer a child. You would not know your + friend. I can not tell what has come over me. Voila! + </p> + <p> + To-morrow we go to visit General Montcalm, who has just arrived in the + colony. Bigot and his gay set are not likely to be there. My mother + insists that I shall never darken the doors of the Intendant’s palace. + </p> + <p> + Do you still hold to your former purpose of keeping a daily journal? If + so, I beg you to copy into it this epistle and your answer; and when I go + up to your dear manor house at Beauce next summer, we will read over our + letters and other things set down, and gossip of the changes come since we + met last. Do sketch the old place for me (as will I our new villa on dear + Isle Orleans), and make interest with the good cure to bring it to me with + your letter, since there are no posts, no postmen, yet between here and + Beauce. The cure most kindly bears this to you, and says he will gladly be + our messenger. Yesterday he said to me, shaking his head in a whimsical + way, “But no treason, mademoiselle, and no heresy or schism.” I am not + quite sure what he meant. I dare hardly think he had Captain Moray in his + mind. I would not for the world so lessen my good opinion of him as to + think him suspicious of me when no other dare; and so I put his words down + to chance hitting, to a humorous fancy. + </p> + <p> + Be sure, dear Lucie, I shall not love you less for giving me a prompt + answer. Tell me of what you are thinking and what doing. If Juste can be + spared from the Governor’s establishment, may I bring him with me next + summer? He is a difficult, sparkling sort of fellow, but you are so + steady-tempered, so full of tact, getting your own way so quietly and + cleverly, that I am sure I should find plenty of straw for the bricks of + my house of hope, my castle in Spain! + </p> + <p> + Do not give too much of my share of thy heart elsewhere, and continue to + think me, my dear Lucie, thy friend, loyal and loving, + </p> + <p> + ALIXE DUVARNEY. + </p> + <p> + P.S.—Since the above was written we have visited the General. Both + Monsieur Doltaire and Captain Moray were there, but neither took much note + of me—Monsieur Doltaire not at all. Those two either hate each other + lovingly, or love hatefully, I know not which, they are so biting, yet so + friendly to each other’s cleverness, though their style of word-play is so + different: Monsieur Doltaire’s like a bodkin-point, Captain Moray’s like a + musket-stock a-clubbing. Be not surprised to see the British at our gates + any day. Though we shall beat them back, I shall feel no less easy because + I have a friend in the enemy’s camp. You may guess who. Do not smile. He + is old enough to be my father. He said so himself six months ago. + </p> + <p> + ALIXE. <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. AS VAIN AS ABSALOM + </h2> + <p> + Gabord, coming in to me one day after I had lain down to sleep, said, + “See, m’sieu’ the dormouse, ‘tis holiday-eve; the King’s sport comes + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + I sat up in bed with a start, for I knew not but that my death had been + decided on without trial; and yet on second thought I was sure this could + not be, for every rule of military conduct was against it. + </p> + <p> + “Whose holiday?” asked I after a moment; “and what is King’s sport?” + </p> + <p> + “You’re to play bear in the streets to-morrow—which is sport for the + King,” he retorted; “we lead you by a rope, and you dance the quickstep to + please our ladies all the way to the Chateau, where they bring the bear to + drum-head.” + </p> + <p> + “Who sits behind the drum?” I questioned. + </p> + <p> + “The Marquis de Vaudreuil,” he replied, “the Intendant, Master Devil + Doltaire, and the little men.” By these last he meant officers of the + colonial soldiery. + </p> + <p> + So then, at last I was to be tried, to be dealt with definitely on the + abominable charge. I should at least again see light and breathe fresh + air, and feel about me the stir of the world. For a long year I had heard + no voice but my own and Gabord’s, had had no friends but my pale blades of + corn and a timid mouse, day after day no light at all; and now winter was + at hand again, and without fire and with poor food my body was chilled and + starved. I had had no news of the world, nor of her who was dear to me, + nor of Juste Duvarney save that he lived, nor of our cause. But succeeding + the thrill of delight I had at thought of seeing the open world again + there came a feeling of lassitude, of indifference; I shrank from the jar + of activity. But presently I got upon my feet, and with a little air of + drollery straightened out my clothes and flicked a handkerchief across my + gaiters. Then I twisted my head over my shoulder as if I were noting the + shape of my back and the set of my clothes in a mirror, and thrust a leg + out in the manner of an exquisite. I had need to do some mocking thing at + the moment, or I should have given way to tears like a woman, so suddenly + weak had I become. + </p> + <p> + Gabord burst out laughing. + </p> + <p> + An idea came to me. “I must be fine to-morrow,” said I. “I must not shame + my jailer.” I rubbed my beard—I had none when I came into this + dungeon first. + </p> + <p> + “Aho!” said he, his eyes wheeling. + </p> + <p> + I knew he understood me. I did not speak, but went on running my fingers + through my beard. + </p> + <p> + “As vain as Absalom,” he added. “Do you think they’ll hang you by the + hair?” + </p> + <p> + “I’d have it off,” said I, “to be clean for the sacrifice.” + </p> + <p> + “You had Voban before,” he rejoined; “we know what happened—a dainty + bit of a letter all rose-lily scented, and comfits for the soldier. The + pretty wren perches now in the Governor’s house—a-cousining, + a-cousining. Think you it is that she may get a glimpse of m’sieu’ the + dormouse as he comes to trial? But ‘tis no business o’ mine; and if I + bring my prisoner up when called for, there’s duty done!” + </p> + <p> + I saw the friendly spirit in the words. + </p> + <p> + “Voban,” urged I, “Voban may come to me?” + </p> + <p> + “The Intendant said no, but the Governor yes,” was the reply; “and that + M’sieu’ Doltaire is not yet come back from Montreal, so he had no voice. + They look for him here to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Voban may come?” I asked again. + </p> + <p> + “At daybreak Voban—aho!” he continued. “There’s milk and honey + to-morrow,” he added, and then, without a word, he drew forth from his + coat, and hurriedly thrust into my hands, a piece of meat and a small + flask of wine, and, swinging round like a schoolboy afraid of being caught + in a misdemeanor, he passed through the door and the bolts clanged after + him. He left the torch behind him, stuck in the cleft of the wall. + </p> + <p> + I sat down on my couch, and for a moment gazed almost vacantly at the meat + and wine in my hands. I had not touched either for a year, and now I could + see that my fingers, as they closed on the food nervously, were thin and + bloodless, and I realized that my clothes hung loose upon my person. Here + were light, meat, and wine, and there was a piece of bread on the board + covering my water-jar. Luxury was spread before me, but although I had + eaten little all day I was not hungry. Presently, however, I took the + knife which I had hidden a year before, and cut pieces of the meat and + laid them by the bread. Then I drew the cork from the bottle of wine, and, + lifting it towards that face which was always visible to my soul, I drank—drank—drank! + </p> + <p> + The rich liquor swam through my veins like glorious fire. It wakened my + brain and nerved my body. The old spring of life came back. This wine had + come from the hands of Alixe—from the Governor’s store, maybe; for + never could Gabord have got such stuff. I ate heartily of the rich beef + and bread with a new-made appetite, and drank the rest of the wine. When I + had eaten and drunk the last, I sat and looked at the glowing torch, and + felt a sort of comfort creep through me. Then there came a delightful + thought. Months ago I had put away one last pipeful of tobacco, to save it + till some day when I should need it most. I got it, and no man can guess + how lovingly I held it to a flying flame of the torch, saw it light, and + blew out the first whiff of smoke into the sombre air; for November was + again piercing this underground house of mine, another winter was at hand. + I sat and smoked, and—can you not guess my thoughts? For have you + all not the same hearts, being British born and bred? When I had taken the + last whiff, I wrapped myself in my cloak and went to sleep. But twice or + thrice during the night I waked to see the torch still shining, and caught + the fragrance of consuming pine, and minded not at all the smoke the + burning made. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. A LITTLE CONCERNING THE CHEVALIER DE LA DARANTE + </h2> + <p> + I was wakened completely by the shooting of bolts. With the opening of the + door I saw the figures of Gabord and Voban. My little friend the mouse saw + them also, and scampered from the bread it had been eating, away among the + corn, through which my footsteps had now made two rectangular paths, not + disregarded by Gabord, who solicitously pulled Voban into the narrow + track, that he should not trespass on my harvest. + </p> + <p> + I rose, showed no particular delight at seeing Voban, but greeted him + easily—though my heart was bursting to ask him of Alixe—and + arranged my clothes. Presently Gabord said, “Stools for barber,” and, + wheeling, he left the dungeon. He was gone only an instant, but long + enough for Voban to thrust a letter into my hand, which I ran into the + lining of my waistcoat as I whispered, “Her brother—he is well?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and he have go to France,” he answered. “She make me say, look to + the round window in the Chateau front.” + </p> + <p> + We spoke in English—which, as I have said, Voban understood + imperfectly. There was nothing more said, and if Gabord, when he returned, + suspected, he showed no sign, but put down two stools, seating himself on + one, as I seated myself on the other for Voban’s handiwork. Presently a + soldier appeared with a bowl of coffee. Gabord rose, took it from him, + waved him away, and handed it to me. Never did coffee taste so sweet, and + I sipped and sipped till Voban had ended his work with me. Then I drained + the last drop and stood up. He handed me a mirror, and Gabord, fetching a + fine white handkerchief from his pocket, said, “Here’s for your tears, + when they drum you to heaven, dickey-bird.” + </p> + <p> + But when I saw my face in the mirror, I confess I was startled. My hair, + which had been black, was plentifully sprinkled with white, my face was + intensely pale and thin, and the eyes were sunk in dark hollows. I should + not have recognized myself. But I laughed as I handed back the glass, and + said, “All flesh is grass, but a dungeon’s no good meadow.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis for the dry chaff,” Gabord answered, “not for young grass—aho!” + </p> + <p> + He rose and made ready to leave, Voban with him. “The commissariat camps + here in an hour or so,” he said, with a ripe chuckle. + </p> + <p> + It was clear the new state of affairs was more to his mind than the long + year’s rigour and silence. It seemed to me strange then, and it has seemed + so ever since, that during all that time I never was visited by Doltaire + but once, and of that event I am going to write briefly here. + </p> + <p> + It was about two months before this particular morning that he came, + greeting me courteously enough. + </p> + <p> + “Close quarters here,” said he, looking round as if the place were new to + him and smiling to himself. + </p> + <p> + “Not so close as we all come to one day,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Dismal comparison!” he rejoined; “you’ve lost your spirits.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so,” I retorted; “nothing but my liberty.” + </p> + <p> + “You know the way to find it quickly,” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + “The letters for La Pompadour?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “A dead man’s waste papers,” responded he; “of no use to him or you, or + any one save the Grande Marquise.” + </p> + <p> + “Valuable to me,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “None but the Grande Marquise and the writer would give you a penny for + them!” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I not be my own merchant?” + </p> + <p> + “You can—to me. If not to me, to no one. You had your chance long + ago, and you refused it. You must admit I dealt fairly with you. I did not + move till you had set your own trap and fallen into it. Now, if you do not + give me the letters—well, you will give them to none else in this + world. It has been a fair game, and I am winning now. I’ve only used means + which one gentleman might use with another. Had you been a lesser man I + should have had you spitted long ago. You understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly. But since we have played so long, do you think I’ll give you + the stakes now—before the end?” + </p> + <p> + “It would be wiser,” he answered thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “I have a nation behind me,” urged I. + </p> + <p> + “It has left you in a hole here to rot.” + </p> + <p> + “It will take over your citadel and dig me out some day,” I retorted + hotly. + </p> + <p> + “What good that? Your life is more to you than Quebec to England.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said I quickly; “I would give my life a hundred times to see + your flag hauled down!” + </p> + <p> + “A freakish ambition,” he replied; “mere infatuation!” + </p> + <p> + “You do not understand it, Monsieur Doltaire,” I remarked ironically. + </p> + <p> + “I love not endless puzzles. There is no sport in following a maze that + leads to nowhere save the grave.” He yawned. “This air is heavy,” he + added; “you must find it trying.” + </p> + <p> + “Never as trying as at this moment,” I retorted. + </p> + <p> + “Come, am I so malarious?” + </p> + <p> + “You are a trickster,” I answered coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you mean that night at Bigot’s?” He smiled. “No, no, you were to + blame—so green. You might have known we were for having you between + the stones.” + </p> + <p> + “But it did not come out as you wished?” hinted I. + </p> + <p> + “It served my turn,” he responded; and he gave me such a smiling, + malicious look that I knew sought to convey he had his way with Alixe; and + though I felt that she was true to me, his cool presumption so stirred me + I could have struck him in the face. I got angrily to my feet, but as I + did so I shrank a little, for at times the wound in my side, not yet + entirely healed, hurt me. + </p> + <p> + “You are not well,” he said, with instant show of curiosity; “your wounds + still trouble you? They should be healed. Gabord was ordered to see you + cared for.” + </p> + <p> + “Gabord has done well enough,” answered I. “I have had wounds before, + monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + He leaned against the wall and laughed. “What braggarts you English are!” + he said. “A race of swashbucklers—even on bread and water!” + </p> + <p> + He had me at advantage, and I knew it, for he had kept his temper. I made + an effort. “Both excellent,” rejoined I, “and English too.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed again. “Come, that is better. That’s in your old vein. I love + to see you so. But how knew you our baker was English?—which he is, + a prisoner like yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “As easily as I could tell the water was not made by Frenchmen.” + </p> + <p> + “Now I have hope of you,” he broke out gaily; “you will yet redeem your + nation.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment Gabord came with a message from the Governor to Doltaire, + and he prepared to go. + </p> + <p> + “You are set on sacrifice?” he asked. “Think—dangling from Cape + Diamond!” + </p> + <p> + “I will meditate on your fate instead,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + “Think!” he said again, waving off my answer with his hand. “The letters I + shall no more ask for; and you will not escape death?” + </p> + <p> + “Never by that way,” rejoined I. + </p> + <p> + “So. Very good. Au plaisir, my captain. I go to dine at the Seigneur + Duvarney’s.” + </p> + <p> + With that last thrust he was gone, and left me wondering if the Seigneur + had ever made an effort to see me, if he had forgiven the duel with his + son. + </p> + <p> + That was the incident. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + When Gabord and Voban were gone, leaving the light behind, I went over to + where the torch stuck in the wall, and drew Alixe’s letter from my pocket + with eager fingers. It told the whole story of her heart. + </p> + <p> + CHATEAU ST. LOUIS, 27th November, 1757. + </p> + <p> + Though I write you these few words, dear Robert, I do not know that they + will reach you, for as yet it is not certain they will let Voban visit + you. A year, dear friend, and not a word from you! I should have broken my + heart if I had not heard of you one way and another. They say you are much + worn in body, though you have always a cheerful air. There are stories of + a visit Monsieur Doltaire paid you, and how you jested. He hates you, and + yet he admires you too. + </p> + <p> + And now listen, Robert, and I beg you not to be angry—oh, do not be + angry, for I am all yours; but I want to tell you that I have not repulsed + Monsieur Doltaire when he has spoken flatteries to me. I have not believed + them, and I have kept my spirits strong against the evil in him. I want to + get you free of prison, and to that end I have to work through him with + the Intendant, that he will not set the Governor more against you. With + the Intendant himself I will not deal at all. So I use the lesser villain, + and in truth the more powerful, for he stands higher at Versailles than + any here. With the Governor I have influence, for he is, as you know, a + kinsman of my mother’s, and of late he has shown a fondness for me. Yet + you can see that I must act most warily, that I must not seem to care for + you, for that would be your complete undoing. I rather seem to scoff. (Oh, + how it hurts me! how my cheeks tingle when I think of it alone! and how I + clench my hands, hating them all for oppressing you!) + </p> + <p> + I do not believe their slanders—that you are a spy. It is I, Robert, + who have at last induced the Governor to bring you to trial. They would + have put it off till next year, but I feared you would die in that awful + dungeon, and I was sure that if your trial came on there would be a + change, as there is to be for a time, at least. You are to be lodged in + the common jail during the sitting of the court; and so that is one step + gained. Yet I had to use all manner of device with the Governor. + </p> + <p> + He is sometimes so playful with me that I can pretend to sulkiness; and so + one day I said that he showed no regard for our family or for me in not + bringing you, who had nearly killed my brother, to justice. So he + consented, and being of a stubborn nature, too, when Monsieur Doltaire and + the Intendant opposed the trial, he said it should come off at once. But + one thing grieves me: they are to have you marched through the streets of + the town like any common criminal, and I dare show no distress nor plead, + nor can my father, though he wishes to move for you in this; and I dare + not urge him, for then it would seem strange the daughter asked your + punishment, and the father sought to lessen it. + </p> + <p> + When you are in the common jail it will be much easier to help you. I have + seen Gabord, but he is not to be bent to any purpose, though he is kind to + me. I shall try once more to have him take some wine and meat to you + to-night. If I fail, then I shall only pray that you may be given strength + in body for your time of trouble equal to your courage. + </p> + <p> + It may be I can fix upon a point where you may look to see me as you pass + to-morrow to the Chateau. There must be a sign. If you will put your hand + to your forehead—But no, they may bind you, and your hands may not + be free. When you see me, pause in your step for an instant, and I shall + know. I will tell Voban where you shall send your glance, if he is to be + let in to you, and I hope that what I plan may not fail. + </p> + <p> + And so, Robert, adieu. Time can not change me, and your misfortunes draw + me closer to you. Only the dishonourable thing could make me close the + doors of my heart, and I will not think you, whate’er they say, unworthy + of my constant faith. Some day, maybe, we shall smile at, and even + cherish, these sad times. In this gay house I must be flippant, for I am + now of the foolish world! But under all the trivial sparkle a serious + heart beats. It belongs to thee, if thou wilt have it, Robert, the heart + of thy + </p> + <p> + ALIXE. + </p> + <p> + An hour after getting this good letter Gabord came again, and with him + breakfast—a word which I had almost dropped from my language. True, + it was only in a dungeon, on a pair of stools, by the light of a torch, + but how I relished it!—a bottle of good wine, a piece of broiled + fish, the half of a fowl, and some tender vegetables. + </p> + <p> + When Gabord came for me with two soldiers, an hour later—I say an + hour, but I only guess so, for I had no way of noting time—I was + ready for new cares, and to see the world again. Before the others Gabord + was the rough, almost brutal soldier, and soon I knew that I was to be + driven out upon the St. Foye Road and on into the town. My arms were well + fastened down, and I was tied about till I must have looked like a bale of + living goods of no great value. Indeed, my clothes were by no means + handsome, and save for my well-shaven face and clean handkerchief I was an + ill-favoured spectacle; but I tried to bear my shoulders up as we marched + through dark reeking corridors, and presently came suddenly into + well-lighted passages. + </p> + <p> + I had to pause, for the light blinded my eyes, and they hurt me horribly, + so delicate were the nerves. For some minutes I stood there, my guards + stolidly waiting, Gabord muttering a little and stamping upon the floor as + if in anger, though I knew he was merely playing a small part to deceive + his comrades. The pain in my eyes grew less, and, though they kept filling + with moisture from the violence of the light, I soon could see without + distress. + </p> + <p> + I was led into the yard of the citadel, where was drawn up a company of + soldiers. Gabord bade me stand still, and advanced towards the officers’ + quarters. I asked him if I might not walk to the ramparts and view the + scene. He gruffly assented, bidding the men watch me closely, and I walked + over to a point where, standing three hundred feet above the noble river, + I could look out upon its sweet expanse, across to the Levis shore, with + its serried legions of trees behind, and its bold settlement in front upon + the Heights. There, eastward lay the well-wooded Island of Orleans, and + over all the clear sun and sky, enlivened by a crisp and cheering air. + Snow had fallen, but none now lay upon the ground, and I saw a rare and + winning earth. I stood absorbed. I was recalling that first day that I + remember in my life, when at Balmore my grandfather made prophecies upon + me, and for the first time I was conscious of the world. + </p> + <p> + As I stood lost to everything about me, I heard Doltaire’s voice behind, + and presently he said over my shoulder, “To wish Captain Moray a + good-morning were superfluous!” + </p> + <p> + I smiled at him: the pleasure of that scene had given me an impulse + towards good nature even with my enemies. + </p> + <p> + “The best I ever had,” I answered quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Contrasts are life’s delights,” he said. “You should thank us. You have + your best day because of our worst dungeon.” + </p> + <p> + “But my thanks shall not be in words; you shall have the same courtesy at + our hands one day.” + </p> + <p> + “I had the Bastile for a year,” he rejoined, calling up a squad of men + with his finger as he spoke. “I have had my best day. Two would be + monotony. You think your English will take this some time?” he asked, + waving a finger towards the citadel. “It will need good play to pluck that + ribbon from its place.” He glanced up, as he spoke, at the white flag with + its golden lilies. + </p> + <p> + “So much the better sport,” I answered. “We will have the ribbon and its + heritage.” + </p> + <p> + “You yourself shall furnish evidence to-day. Gabord here will see you + temptingly disposed—the wild bull led peaceably by the nose!” + </p> + <p> + “But one day I will twist your nose, Monsieur Doltaire.” + </p> + <p> + “That is fair enough, if rude,” he responded. “When your turn comes, you + twist and I endure. You shall be nourished well like me, and I shall look + a battered hulk like you. But I shall never be the fool that you are. If I + had a way to slip the leash, I’d slip it. You are a dolt.” He was touching + upon the letters again. + </p> + <p> + “I weigh it all,” said I. “I am no fool—anything else you will.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll be nothing soon, I fear—which is a pity.” + </p> + <p> + What more he might have said I do not know, but there now appeared in the + yard a tall, reverend old gentleman, in the costume of the coureur de + bois, though his belt was richly chased, and he wore an order on his + breast. There was something more refined than powerful in his appearance, + but he had a keen, kindly eye, and a manner unmistakably superior. His + dress was a little barbarous, unlike Doltaire’s splendid white uniform, + set off with violet and gold, the lace of a fine handkerchief sticking + from his belt, and a gold-handled sword at his side; but the manner of + both was distinguished. + </p> + <p> + Seeing Doltaire, he came forward and they embraced. Then he turned towards + me, and as they walked off a little distance I could see that he was + curious concerning me. Presently he raised his hand, and, as if something + had excited him, said, “No, no, no; hang him and have done with it, but + I’ll have nothing to do with it—not a thing. ‘Tis enough for me to + rule at—” + </p> + <p> + I could hear no further, but I was now sure that he was some one of note + who had retired from any share in state affairs. He and Doltaire then + moved on to the doors of the citadel, and, pausing there, Doltaire turned + round and made a motion of his hand to Gabord. I was at once surrounded by + the squad of men, and the order to march was given. A drum in front of me + began to play a well-known derisive air of the French army, The Fox and + the Wolf. + </p> + <p> + We came out on the St. Foye Road and down towards the Chateau St. Louis, + between crowds of shouting people who beat drums, kettles, pans, and made + all manner of mocking noises. It was meant not only against myself, but + against the British people. The women were not behind the men in violence; + from them at first came handfuls of gravel and dust which struck me in the + face; but Gabord put a stop to that. + </p> + <p> + It was a shameful ordeal, which might have vexed me sorely if I had not + had greater trials and expected worse. Now and again appeared a face I + knew—some lady who turned her head away, or some gentleman who + watched me curiously, but made no sign. + </p> + <p> + When we came to the Chateau, I looked up as if casually, and there in the + little round window I saw Alixe’s face—for an instant only. I + stopped in my tracks, was prodded by a soldier from behind, and I then + stepped on. Entering, we were taken to the rear of the building, where, in + an open courtyard, were a company of soldiers, some seats, and a table. On + my right was the St. Lawrence swelling on its course, hundreds of feet + beneath, little boats passing hither and thither on its flood. + </p> + <p> + We were waiting about half an hour, the noises of the clamoring crowd + coming to us, as they carried me aloft in effigy, and, burning me at the + cliff edge, fired guns and threw stones at me, till, rags, ashes, and + flame, I was tumbled into the river far below. At last, from the Chateau + came the Marquis de Vaudreuil, Bigot, and a number of officers. The + Governor looked gravely at me, but did not bow; Bigot gave me a sneering + smile, eying me curiously the while, and (I could feel) remarking on my + poor appearance to Cournal beside him—Cournal, who winked at his + wife’s dishonour for the favour of her lover, who gave him means for + public robbery. + </p> + <p> + Presently the Governor was seated, and he said, looking round, “Monsieur + Doltaire—he is not here?” + </p> + <p> + Bigot shook his head, and answered, “No doubt he is detained at the + citadel.” + </p> + <p> + “And the Seigneur Duvarney?” the Governor added. + </p> + <p> + At that moment the Governor’s secretary handed him a letter. The Governor + opened it. “Listen,” said he. He read to the effect that the Seigneur + Duvarney felt he was hardly fitted to be a just judge in this case, + remembering the conflict between his son and the notorious Captain Moray. + And from another standpoint, though the prisoner merited any fate reserved + for him, if guilty of spying, he could not forget that his life had been + saved by this British captain—an obligation which, unfortunately, he + could neither repay nor wipe out. After much thought, he must disobey the + Governor’s summons, and he prayed that his Excellency would grant his + consideration thereupon. + </p> + <p> + I saw the Governor frown, but he made no remark, while Bigot said + something in his ear which did not improve his humour, for he replied + curtly, and turned to his secretary. “We must have two gentlemen more,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + At that moment Doltaire entered with the old gentleman of whom I have + written. The Governor instantly brightened, and gave the stranger a warm + greeting, calling him his “dear Chevalier;” and, after a deal of urging, + the Chevalier de la Darante was seated as one of my judges: which did not + at all displease me, for I liked his face. + </p> + <p> + I do not need to dwell upon the trial here. I have set down the facts + before. I had no counsel and no witnesses. There seemed no reason why the + trial should have dragged on all day, for I soon saw it was intended to + find me guilty. Yet I was surprised to see how Doltaire brought up a point + here and a question there in my favour, which served to lengthen out the + trial; and all the time he sat near the Chevalier de la Darante, now and + again talking with him. + </p> + <p> + It was late evening before the trial came to a close. The one point to be + established was that the letters taken from General Braddock were mine, + and that I had made the plans while a hostage. I acknowledged nothing, and + would not do so unless I was allowed to speak freely. This was not + permitted until just before I was sentenced. + </p> + <p> + Then Doltaire’s look was fixed on me, and I knew he waited to see if I + would divulge the matter private between us. However, I stood by my + compact with him. Besides, it could not serve me to speak of it here, or + use it as an argument, and it would only hasten an end which I felt he + could prevent if he chose. + </p> + <p> + So when I was asked if I had aught to say, I pleaded only that they had + not kept the Articles of War signed at Fort Necessity, which provided I + should be free within two months and a half—that is, when prisoners + in our hands should be delivered up to them, as they were. They had broken + their bond, though we had fulfilled ours, and I held myself justified in + doing what I had done for our cause and for my own life. + </p> + <p> + I was not heard patiently, though I could see that the Governor and the + Chevalier were impressed; but Bigot instantly urged the case hotly against + me, and the end came very soon. It was now dark; a single light had been + brought and placed beside the Governor, while a soldier held a torch at a + distance. Suddenly there was a silence; then, in response to a signal, the + sharp ringing of a hundred bayonets as they were drawn and fastened to the + muskets, and I could see them gleaming in the feeble torchlight. + Presently, out of the stillness, the Governor’s voice was heard condemning + me to death by hanging, thirty days hence, at sunrise. Silence fell again + instantly, and then a thing occurred which sent a thrill through us all. + From the dark balcony above us came a voice, weird, high, and wailing: + </p> + <p> + “Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! He is guilty, and shall die! Francois Bigot shall + die!” + </p> + <p> + The voice was Mathilde’s, and I saw Doltaire shrug a shoulder and look + with malicious amusement at the Intendant. Bigot himself sat pale and + furious. “Discover the intruder,” he said to Gabord, who was standing + near, “and have—him—jailed.” + </p> + <p> + But the Governor interfered. “It is some drunken creature,” he urged + quietly. “Take no account of it.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. AN OFFICER OF MARINES + </h2> + <p> + What was my dismay to know that I was to be taken back again to my + dungeon, and not lodged in the common jail, as I had hoped and Alixe had + hinted! When I saw whither my footsteps were directed I said nothing, nor + did Gabord speak at all. We marched back through a railing crowd as we had + come, all silent and gloomy. I felt a chill at my heart when the citadel + loomed up again out of the November shadow, and I half paused as I entered + the gates. “Forward!” said Gabord mechanically, and I moved on into the + yard, into the prison, through the dull corridors, the soldiers’ heels + clanking and resounding behind, down into the bowels of the earth, where + the air was moist and warm, and then into my dungeon home! I stepped + inside, and Gabord ordered the ropes off my person somewhat roughly, + watched the soldiers till they were well away, and then leaned against the + wall, waiting for me to speak. I had no impulse to smile, but I knew how I + could most touch him, and so I said lightly, “You’ve got dickey-bird home + again.” + </p> + <p> + He answered nothing and turned towards the door, leaving the torch stuck + in the wall. But he suddenly stopped short, and suddenly thrust out to me + a tiny piece of paper. + </p> + <p> + “A hand touched mine as I went through the Chateau,” said he, “and when + out I came, look you, this here! I can’t see to read. What does it say?” + he added, with a shrewd attempt at innocence. + </p> + <p> + I opened the little paper, held it towards the torch, and read: + </p> + <p> + “Because of the storm there is no sleeping. Is there not the watcher + aloft? Shall the sparrow fall unheeded? The wicked shall be confounded.” + </p> + <p> + It was Alixe’s writing. She had hazarded this in the hands of my jailer as + her only hope, and, knowing that he might not serve her, had put her + message in vague sentences which I readily interpreted. I read the words + aloud to him, and he laughed, and remarked, “‘Tis a foolish thing that—The + Scarlet Woman, mast like.” + </p> + <p> + “Most like,” I answered quietly; “yet what should she be doing there at + the Chateau?” + </p> + <p> + “The mad go everywhere,” he answered, “even to the intendance!” + </p> + <p> + With that he left me, going, as he said, “to fetch crumbs and wine.” + Exhausted with the day’s business, I threw myself upon my couch, drew my + cloak over me, composed myself, and in a few minutes was sound asleep. I + waked to find Gabord in the dungeon, setting out food upon a board + supported by two stools. + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis custom to feed your dickey-bird ere you fetch him to the pot.” he + said, and drew the cork from a bottle of wine. + </p> + <p> + He watched me as I ate and talked, but he spoke little. When I had + finished, he fetched a packet of tobacco from his pocket. I offered him + money, but he refused it, and I did not press him, for he said the food + and wine were not of his buying. Presently he left, and came back with + pens, ink, paper, and candles, which be laid out on my couch without + words. + </p> + <p> + After a little he came again, and laid a book on the improvised table + before me. It was an English Bible. Opening it, I found inscribed on the + fly-leaf, Charles Wainfleet, Chaplain to the British Army. Gabord + explained that this chaplain had been in the citadel for some weeks; that + he had often inquired about me; that he had been brought from the Ohio; + and had known of me, having tended the lieutenant of my Virginian infantry + in his last hours. Gabord thought I should now begin to make my peace with + Heaven, and so had asked for the chaplain’s Bible, which was freely given. + I bade him thank the chaplain for me, and opening the book, I found a leaf + turned down at the words, + </p> + <p> + “In the shadow of thy wings will I make my refuge, until these calamities + be overpast.” + </p> + <p> + When I was left alone, I sat down to write diligently that history of + myself which I had composed and fixed in my memory during the year of my + housing in this dungeon. The words came from my pen freely, and hour after + hour through many days, while no single word reached me from the outside + world, I wrote on; carefully revising, but changing little from that which + I had taken so long to record in my mind. I would not even yet think that + they would hang me; and if they did, what good could brooding do? When the + last word of the memoirs (I may call them so), addressed to Alixe, had + been written, I turned my thoughts to other friends. + </p> + <p> + The day preceding that fixed for my execution came, yet there was no sign + from friend or enemy without. At ten o’clock of that day Chaplain + Wainfleet was admitted to me in the presence of Gabord and a soldier. I + found great pleasure in his company, brief as his visit was; and after I + had given him messages to bear for me to old friends, if we never met + again and he were set free, he left me, benignly commending me to Heaven. + There was the question of my other letters. I had but one desire—Voban + again, unless at my request the Seigneur Duvarney would come, and they + would let him come. If it were certain that I was to go to the scaffold, + then I should not hesitate to tell him my relations with his daughter, + that he might comfort her when, being gone from the world myself, my love + could do her no harm. I could not think that he would hold against me the + duel with his son, and I felt sure he would come to me if he could. + </p> + <p> + But why should I not try for both Voban and the Seigneur? So I spoke to + Gabord. + </p> + <p> + “Voban! Voban!” said he. “Does dickey-bird play at peacock still? Well, + thou shalt see Voban. Thou shalt go trimmed to heaven—aho!” + </p> + <p> + Presently I asked him if he would bear a message to the Governor, asking + permission for the Seigneur Duvarney to visit me, if he were so inclined. + At his request I wrote my petition out, and he carried it away with him, + saying that I should have Voban that evening. + </p> + <p> + I waited hour after hour, but no one came. As near as I could judge it was + now evening. It seemed strange to think that, twenty feet above me, the + world was all white with snow; the sound of sleigh-bells and church-bells, + and the cries of snowshoers ringing on the clear, sharp air. I pictured + the streets of Quebec alive with people: the young seigneur set off with + furs and silken sash and sword or pistols; the long-haired, black-eyed + woodsman in his embroidered moccasins and leggings with flying thrums; the + peasant farmer slapping his hands cheerfully in the lighted market-place; + the petty noble, with his demoiselle, hovering in the precincts of the + Chateau St. Louis and the intendance. Up there were light, freedom, and + the inspiriting frost; down here in my dungeon, the blades of corn, which, + dying, yet never died, told the story of a choking air, wherein the body + and soul of a man droop and take long to die. This was the night before + Christmas Eve, when in England and Virginia they would be preparing for + feasting and thanksgiving. + </p> + <p> + The memories of past years crowded on me. I thought of feastings and + spendthrift rejoicings in Glasgow and Virginia. All at once the carnal man + in me rose up and damned these lying foes of mine. Resignation went + whistling down the wind. Hang me! Hang me! No, by the God that gave me + breath! I sat back and laughed—laughed at my own insipid virtue, by + which, to keep faith with the fanatical follower of Prince Charlie, I had + refused my liberty; cut myself off from the useful services of my King; + wasted good years of my life, trusting to pressure and help to come from + England, which never came; twisted the rope for my own neck to keep honour + with the dishonourable Doltaire, who himself had set the noose swinging; + and, inexpressible misery! involved in my shame and peril a young blithe + spirit, breathing a miasma upon the health of a tender life. Every + rebellious atom in my blood sprang to indignant action. I swore that if + they fetched me to the gallows to celebrate their Noel, other lives than + mine should go to keep me company on the dark trail. To die like a rat in + a trap, oiled for the burning, and lighted by the torch of hatred! No, I + would die fighting, if I must die. + </p> + <p> + I drew from its hiding-place the knife I had secreted the day I was + brought into that dungeon—a little weapon, but it would serve for + the first blow. At whom? Gabord? It all flashed through my mind how I + might do it when he came in again: bury this blade in his neck or heart—it + was long enough for the work; then, when he was dead, change my clothes + for his, take his weapons, and run my chances to get free of the citadel. + Free? Where should I go in the dead of winter? Who would hide me, shelter + me? I could not make my way to an English settlement. Ill clad, exposed to + the merciless climate, and the end death. But that was freedom—freedom! + I could feel my body dilating with the thought, as I paced my dungeon like + an ill-tempered beast. But kill Gabord, who had put himself in danger to + serve me, who himself had kept the chains from off my ankles and body, + whose own life depended upon my security—“Come, come, Robert Moray,” + said I, “what relish have you for that? That’s an ill game for a + gentleman. Alixe Duvarney would rather see you dead than get your freedom + over the body of this man.” + </p> + <p> + That was an hour of storm. I am glad that I conquered the baser part of + me; for, almost before I had grown calm again, the bolts of the dungeon + doors shot back, and presently Gabord stepped inside, followed by a + muffled figure. + </p> + <p> + “Voban the barber,” said Gabord in a strange voice, and stepping again + outside, he closed the door, but did not shoot the bolts. + </p> + <p> + I stood as one in a dream. Voban the barber? In spite of cap and great fur + coat, I saw the outline of a figure that no barber ever had in this world. + I saw two eyes shining like lights set in a rosy sky. A moment of doubt, + of impossible speculation, of delicious suspense, and then the coat of + Voban the barber opened, dropped away from the lithe, graceful figure of a + young officer of marines, the cap flew off, and in an instant the dear + head, the blushing, shining face of Alixe was on my breast. + </p> + <p> + In that moment, stolen from the calendar of hate, I ran into the haven + where true hearts cast anchor and bless God that they have seen upon the + heights, to guide them, the lights of home. The moment flashed by and was + gone, but the light it made went not with it. + </p> + <p> + When I drew her blushing face up, and stood her off from me that I might + look at her again, the colour flew back and forth on her cheek, as you may + see the fire flutter in an uncut ruby when you turn it in the sun. + Modestly drawing the cloak she wore more closely about her, she hastened + to tell me how it was she came in such a guise; but I made her pause for a + moment while I gave her a seat and sat down beside her. Then by the light + of the flickering torch and flaring candles I watched her feelings play + upon her face as the warm light of autumn shifts upon the glories of ripe + fruits. Her happiness was tempered by the sadness of our position, and my + heart smote me that I had made her suffer, had brought care to her young + life. I could see that in the year she had grown older, yet her beauty + seemed enhanced by that and by the trouble she had endured. I shall let + her tell her story here unbroken by my questions and those interruptions + which Gabord made, bidding her to make haste. She spoke without faltering, + save here and there; but even then I could see her brave spirit quelling + the riot of her emotions, shutting down the sluice-gate of tears. + </p> + <p> + “I knew,” she said, her hand clasped in mine, “that Gabord was the only + person like to be admitted to you, and so for days, living in fear lest + the worst should happen, I have prepared for this chance. I have grown so + in height that I knew an old uniform of my brothers would fit me, and I + had it ready—small sword and all,” she added, with a sad sort of + humour, touching the weapon at her side. “You must know that we have for + the winter a house here upon the ramparts near the Chateau. It was my + mother’s doings, that my sister Georgette and I might have no great + journeyings in the cold to the festivities hereabouts. So I, being a + favourite with the Governor, ran in and out of the Chateau at my will; of + which my mother was proud, and she allowed me much liberty, for to be a + favourite of the Governor is an honour. I knew how things were going, and + what the chances were of the sentence being carried out on you. Sometimes + I thought my heart would burst with the anxiety of it all, but I would not + let that show to the world. If you could but have seen me smile at the + Governor and Monsieur Doltaire—nay, do not press my hand so, Robert; + you know well you have no need to fear monsieur—while I learned + secrets of state, among them news of you. Three nights ago Monsieur + Doltaire was talking with me at a ball—ah, those feastings while you + were lying in a dungeon, and I shutting up my love and your danger close + in my heart, even from those who loved me best! Well, suddenly he said, ‘I + think I will not have our English captain shifted to a better world.’ + </p> + <p> + “My heart stood still; I felt an ache across my breast so that I could + hardly breathe. ‘Why will you not?’ said I; ‘was not the sentence just?’ + He paused a minute, and then replied, ‘All sentences are just when an + enemy is dangerous.’ Then said I as in surprise, ‘Why, was he no spy, + after all?’ He sat back, and laughed a little. ‘A spy according to the + letter of the law, but you have heard of secret history—eh?’ I tried + to seem puzzled, for I had a thought there was something private between + you and him which has to do with your fate. So I said, as if bewildered, + ‘You mean there is evidence which was not shown at the trial?’ He answered + slowly, ‘Evidence that would bear upon the morals, not the law of the + case.’ Then said I, ‘Has it to do with you, monsieur?’ ‘It has to do with + France,’ he replied. ‘And so you will not have his death?’ I asked. ‘Bigot + wishes it,’ he replied, ‘for no other reason than that Madame Cournal has + spoken nice words for the good-looking captain, and because that + unsuccessful duel gave Vaudreuil an advantage over himself. Vaudreuil + wishes it because he thinks it will sound well in France, and also because + he really believes the man a spy. The Council do not care much; they + follow the Governor and Bigot, and both being agreed, their verdict is + unanimous.’ He paused, then added, ‘And the Seigneur Duvarney—and + his daughter—wish it because of a notable injury to one of their + name.’ At that I cautiously replied, ‘No, my father does not wish it, for + my brother gave the offense, and Captain Moray saved his life, as you + know. I do not wish it, Monsieur Doltaire, because hanging is a shameful + death, and he is a gentle man, not a ruffian. Let him be shot like a + gentleman. How will it sound at the Court of France that, on insufficient + evidence, as you admit, an English gentleman was hanged for a spy? Would + not the King say (for he is a gentleman), Why was not this shown me before + the man’s death? Is it not a matter upon which a country would feel as + gentlemen feel?’ + </p> + <p> + “I knew it the right thing to say at the moment, and it seemed the only + way to aid you, though I intended, if the worst came to the worst, to go + myself to the Governor at the last and plead for your life, at least for a + reprieve. But it had suddenly flashed upon me that a reference to France + was the thing, since the Articles of War which you are accused of + dishonouring were signed by officers from France and England. + </p> + <p> + “Presently he turned to me with a look of curiosity, and another sort of + look also that made me tremble, and said, ‘Now, there you have put your + finger on the point—my point, the choice weapon I had reserved to + prick the little bubble of Bigot’s hate and the Governor’s conceit, if I + so chose, even at the last. And here is a girl, a young girl just freed + from pinafores, who teaches them the law of nations! If it pleased me I + should not speak, for Vaudreuil’s and Bigot’s affairs are none of mine; + but, in truth, why should you kill your enemy? It is the sport to keep him + living; you can get no change for your money from a dead man. He has had + one cheerful year; why not another, and another, and another? And so watch + him fretting to the slow-coming end, while now and again you give him a + taste of hope, to drop him back again into the pit which has no sides for + climbing.’ He paused a minute, and then added, ‘A year ago I thought he + had touched you, this Britisher, with his raw humour and manners; but, my + faith, how swiftly does a woman’s fancy veer!’ At that I said calmly to + him, ‘You must remember that then he was not thought so base.’ ‘Yes, yes,’ + he replied; ‘and a woman loves to pity the captive, whatever his fault, if + he be presentable and of some notice or talent. And Moray has gifts,’ he + went on. I appeared all at once to be offended. ‘Veering, indeed! a + woman’s fancy! I think you might judge women better. You come from high + places, Monsieur Doltaire, and they say this and that of your great + talents and of your power at Versailles, but what proof have we had of it? + You set a girl down with a fine patronage, and you hint at weapons to cut + off my cousin the Governor and the Intendant from their purposes; but how + do we know you can use them, that you have power with either the + unnoticeable woman or the great men?’ I knew very well it was a bold move. + He suddenly turned to me, in his cruel eyes a glittering kind of light, + and said, ‘I suggest no more than I can do with those “great men”; and as + for the woman, the slave can not be patron—I am the slave. I thought + not of power before; but now that I do, I will live up to my thinking. I + seem idle, I am not; purposeless, I am not; a gamester, I am none. I am a + sportsman, and I will not leave the field till all the hunt be over. I + seem a trifler, yet I have persistency. I am no romanticist, I have no + great admiration for myself, and yet when I set out to hunt a woman + honestly, be sure I shall never back to kennel till she is mine or I am + done for utterly. Not by worth nor by deserving, but by unending patience + and diligence—that shall be my motto. I shall devote to the chase + every art that I have learned or known by nature. So there you have me, + mademoiselle. Since you have brought me to the point, I will unfurl my + flag.... I am—your—hunter,’ he went on, speaking with slow, + painful emphasis, ‘and I shall make you mine. You fight against me, but it + is no use.’ I got to my feet, and said with coolness, though I was sick at + heart and trembling, ‘You are frank. You have made two resolves. I shall + give weight to one as you fulfill the other’; and, smiling at him, I moved + away towards my mother. + </p> + <p> + “Masterful as he is, I felt that this would touch his vanity. There lay my + great chance with him. If he had guessed the truth of what’s between us, + be sure, Robert, your life were not worth one hour beyond to-morrow’s + sunrise. You must know how I loathe deceitfulness, but when one weak girl + is matched against powerful and evil men, what can she do? My conscience + does not chide me, for I know my cause is just. Robert, look me in the + eyes.... There, like that.... Now tell me. You are innocent of the + dishonourable thing, are you not? I believe with all my soul, but that I + may say from your own lips that you are no spy, tell me so.” + </p> + <p> + When I had said as she had wished, assuring her she should know all, + carrying proofs away with her, and that hidden evidence of which Doltaire + had spoken, she went on: + </p> + <p> + “‘You put me to the test,’ said monsieur. ‘Doing one, it will be proof + that I shall do the other.’ He fixed his eyes upon me with such a look + that my whole nature shrank from him, as if the next instant his hateful + hands were to be placed on me. Oh, Robert, I know how perilous was the + part I played, but I dared it for your sake. For a whole year I have + dissembled to every one save to that poor mad soul Mathilde, who reads my + heart in her wild way, to Voban, and to the rough soldier outside your + dungeon. But they will not betray me. God has given us these rough but + honest friends. + </p> + <p> + “Well, monsieur left me that night, and I have not seen him since, nor can + I tell where he is, for no one knows, and I dare not ask too much. I did + believe he would achieve his boast as to saving your life, and so, all + yesterday and to-day, I have waited with most anxious heart; but not one + word! Yet there was that in all he said which made me sure he meant to + save you, and I believe he will. Yet think: if anything happened to him! + You know what wild doings go on at Bigot’s chateau out at Charlesbourg; + or, again, in the storm of yesterday he may have been lost. You see, there + are the hundred chances; so I determined not to trust wholly to him. There + was one other way—to seek the Governor myself, open my heart to him, + and beg for a reprieve. To-night at nine o’clock—it is now six, + Robert—we go to the Chateau St. Louis, my mother and my father and + I, to sup with the Governor. Oh, think what I must endure, to face them + with this awful shadow on me! If no word come of the reprieve before that + hour, I shall make my own appeal to the Governor. It may ruin me, but it + may save you; and that done, what should I care for the rest? Your life is + more to me than all the world beside.” Here she put both hands upon my + shoulders and looked me in the eyes. + </p> + <p> + I did not answer yet, but took her hands in mine, and she continued: “An + hour past, I told my mother I should go to see my dear friend Lucie + Lotbiniere. Then I stole up to my room, put on my brother’s uniform, and + came down to meet Voban near the citadel, as we had arranged. I knew he + was to have an order from the Governor to visit you. He was waiting, and + to my great joy he put the order in my hands. I took his coat and wig and + cap, a poor disguise, and came straight to the citadel, handing the order + to the soldiers at the gate. They gave it back without a word, and passed + me on. I thought this strange, and looked at the paper by the light of the + torches. What was my surprise to see that Voban’s name had been left out! + It but gave permission to the bearer. That would serve with the common + soldier, but I knew well it would not with Gabord or with the commandant + of the citadel. All at once I saw the great risk I was running, the danger + to us both. Still I would not turn back. But how good fortune serves us + when we least look for it! At the commandant’s very door was Gabord. I did + not think to deceive him. It was my purpose from the first to throw myself + upon his mercy. So there, that moment, I thrust the order into his hand. + He read it, looked a moment, half fiercely and half kindly, at me, then + turned and took the order to the commandant. Presently he came out, and + said to me, ‘Come, m’sieu’, and see you clip the gentleman dainty fine for + his sunrise travel. He’ll get no care ‘twixt posting-house and end of + journey, m’sieu’.’ This he said before two soldiers, speaking with + harshness and a brutal humour. But inside the citadel he changed at once, + and, taking from my head this cap and wig, he said quite gently, yet I + could see he was angry, too, ‘This is a mad doing, young lady.’ He said no + more, and led me straight to you. If I had told him I was coming, I know + he would have stayed me. But at the dangerous moment he had not heart to + drive me back.... And that is all my story, Robert.” + </p> + <p> + As I have said, this tale was broken often by little questionings and + exclamations, and was not told in one long narrative as I have written it + here. When she had done I sat silent and overcome for a moment. There was + one thing now troubling me sorely, even in the painful joy of having her + here close by me. She had risked all to save my life—reputation, + friends, even myself, the one solace in her possible misery. Was it not my + duty to agree to Doltaire’s terms, for her sake, if there was yet a chance + to do so? I had made a solemn promise to Sir John Godric that those + letters, if they ever left my hands, should go to the lady who had written + them; and to save my own life I would not have broken faith with my + benefactor. But had I the right to add to the misery of this sweet, brave + spirit? Suppose it was but for a year or two: had I the right to give her + sorrow for that time, if I could prevent it, even at the cost of honour + with the dead? Was it not my duty to act, and at once? Time was short. + </p> + <p> + While in a swift moment I was debating, Gabord opened the door, and said, + “Come, end it, end it. Gabord has a head to save!” I begged him for one + minute more, and then giving Alixe the packet which held my story, I told + her hastily the matter between Doltaire and myself, and said that now, + rather than give her sorrow, I was prepared to break my word with Sir John + Godric. She heard me through with flashing eyes, and I could see her bosom + heave. When I had done, she looked me straight in the eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Is all that here?” she said, holding up the packet. + </p> + <p> + “All,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “And you would not break your word to save your own life?” + </p> + <p> + I shook my head in negation. + </p> + <p> + “Now I know that you are truly honourable,” she answered, “and you shall + not break your promise for me. No, no, you shall not; you shall not stir. + Tell me that you will not send word to Monsieur Doltaire—tell me!” + </p> + <p> + When, after some struggle, I had consented, she said, “But I may act. I am + not bound to secrecy. I have given no word or bond. I will go to the + Governor with my love, and I do not fear the end. They will put me in a + convent, and I shall see you no more, but I shall have saved you.” + </p> + <p> + In vain I begged her not to do so; her purpose was strong, and I could + only get her promise that she would not act till midnight. This was hardly + achieved when Gabord entered quickly, saying, “The Seigneur Duvarney! On + with your coat, wig, and cap! Quick, mademoiselle!” + </p> + <p> + Swiftly the disguise was put on, and I clasped her to my breast with a + joyful agony, while Gabord hastily put out the candles and torch, and drew + Alixe behind the dungeon door. Then standing himself in the doorway, he + loudly commended me to sleep sound and be ready for travel in the morning. + Taking the hint, I threw myself upon my couch, and composed myself. An + instant afterwards the Seigneur appeared with a soldier, and Gabord met + him cheerfully, looked at the order from the Governor, and motioned the + Seigneur in and the soldier away. As Duvarney stepped inside, Gabord + followed, holding up a torch. I rose to meet my visitor, and as I took his + hand I saw Gabord catch Alixe by the sleeve and hurry her out with a + whispered word, swinging the door behind her as she passed. Then he stuck + the torch in the wall, went out, shut and bolted the dungeon door, and + left us two alone. + </p> + <p> + I was glad that Alixe’s safety had been assured, and my greeting of her + father was cordial. But he was more reserved than I had ever known him. + The duel with his son, which had sent the youth to France and left him + with a wound which would trouble him for many a day, weighed heavily + against me. Again, I think that he guessed my love for Alixe, and resented + it with all his might. What Frenchman would care to have his daughter lose + her heart to one accused of a wretched crime, condemned to death, an enemy + of his country, and a Protestant? I was sure that should he guess at the + exact relations between us, Alixe would be sent behind the tall doors of a + convent, where I should knock in vain. + </p> + <p> + “You must not think, Moray,” said he, “that I have been indifferent to + your fate, but you can not guess how strong the feeling is against you, + how obdurate is the Governor, who, if he should appear lax in dealing with + you, would give a weapon into Bigot’s hands which might ruin him in France + one day. I have but this moment come from the Governor, and there seems no + way to move him.” + </p> + <p> + I saw that he was troubled greatly, and I felt his helplessness. He went + on: “There is but one man who could bend the Governor, but he, alas! is no + friend of yours. And what way there is to move him I know not; he has no + wish, I fancy, but that you shall go to your fate.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean Monsieur Doltaire?” said I quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Doltaire,” he answered. “I have tried to find him, for he is the secret + agent of La Pompadour, and if I had one plausible reason to weigh with him— + But I have none, unless you can give it. There are vague hints of things + between you and him, and I have come to ask if you can put any fact, any + argument, in my hands that would aid me with him. I would go far to serve + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Think not, I pray you,” returned I, “that there is any debt unsatisfied + between us.” + </p> + <p> + He waved his hand in a melancholy way. “Indeed, I wish to serve you for + the sake of past friendship between us, not only for that debt’s sake.” + </p> + <p> + “In spite of my quarrel with your son?” asked I. + </p> + <p> + “In spite of that, indeed,” he said slowly, “though a great wedge was + driven between us there.” + </p> + <p> + “I am truly sorry for it,” said I, with some pride. “The blame was in no + sense mine. I was struck across the face; I humbled myself, remembering + you, but he would have me out yes or no.” + </p> + <p> + “Upon a wager!” he urged, somewhat coldly. + </p> + <p> + “With the Intendant, monsieur,” I replied, “not with your son.” + </p> + <p> + “I can not understand the matter,” was his gloomy answer. + </p> + <p> + “I beg you not to try,” I rejoined; “it is too late for explanations, and + I have nothing to tell you of myself and Monsieur Doltaire. Only, whatever + comes, remember I have begged nothing of you, have desired nothing but + justice—that only. I shall make no further move; the axe shall fall + if it must. I have nothing now to do but set my house in order, and live + the hours between this and sunrise with what quiet I may. I am ready for + either freedom or death. Life is not so incomparable a thing that I can + not give it up without pother.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me a moment steadily. “You and I are standing far off from + each other,” he remarked. “I will say one last thing to you, though you + seem to wish me gone and your own grave closing in. I was asked by the + Governor to tell you that if you would put him in the way of knowing the + affairs of your provinces from the letters you have received, together + with estimate of forces and plans of your forts, as you have known them, + he will spare you. I only tell you this because you close all other ways + to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I carry,” said I, with a sharp burst of anger, “the scars of wounds an + insolent youth gave me. I wish now that I had killed the son of the man + who dares bring me such a message.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment I had forgotten Alixe, everything, in the wildness of my + anger. I choked with rage; I could have struck him. + </p> + <p> + “I mean nothing against you,” he urged, with great ruefulness. “I suggest + nothing. I bring the Governor’s message, that is all. And let me say,” he + added, “that I have not thought you a spy, nor ever shall think so.” + </p> + <p> + I was trembling with anger still, and I was glad that at the moment Gabord + opened the door, and stood waiting. + </p> + <p> + “You will not part with me in peace, then?” asked the Seigneur slowly. + </p> + <p> + “I will remember the gentleman who gave a captive hospitality,” I + answered. “I am too near death to let a late injury outweigh an old + friendship. I am ashamed, but not only for myself. Let us part in peace—ay, + let us part in peace,” I added with feeling, for the thought of Alixe came + rushing over me, and this was her father! + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Moray,” he responded gravely. “You are a soldier, and brave; if + the worst comes, I know how you will meet it. Let us waive all bitter + thoughts between us. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + We shook hands then, without a word, and in a moment the dungeon door + closed behind him, and I was alone; and for a moment my heart was heavy + beyond telling, and a terrible darkness settled on my spirit. I sat on my + couch and buried my head in my hands. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. THE COMING OF DOLTAIRE + </h2> + <p> + At last I was roused by Gabord’s voice. + </p> + <p> + He sat down, and drew the leaves of faded corn between his fingers. “‘Tis + a poor life, this in a cage, after all—eh, dickey-bird? If a soldier + can’t stand in the field fighting, if a man can’t rub shoulders with man, + and pitch a tent of his own somewhere, why not go travelling with the + Beast—aho? To have all the life sucked out like these—eh? To + see the flesh melt and the hair go white, the eye to be one hour bright + like a fire in a kiln, and the next like mother on working vinegar—that’s + not living at all—no.” + </p> + <p> + The speech had evidently cost him much thinking, and when he ended, his + cheeks puffed out and a soundless laugh seemed to gather, but it burst in + a sort of sigh. I would have taken his hand that moment, if I had not + remembered when once he drew back from such demonstrations. I did not + speak, but nodded assent, and took to drawing the leaves of corn between + my fingers as he was doing. + </p> + <p> + After a moment, cocking his head at me as might a surly schoolmaster in a + pause of leniency, he added, “As quiet, as quiet, and never did he fly at + door of cage, nor peck at jailer—aho!” + </p> + <p> + I looked at him a minute seriously, and then, feeling in my coat, handed + to him the knife which I had secreted, with the words, “Enough for pecking + with, eh?” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me so strangely, as he weighed the knife up and down in his + hand, that I could not at first guess his thought; but presently I + understood it, and I almost could have told what he would say. He opened + the knife, felt the blade, measured it along his fingers, and then said, + with a little bursting of the lips, “Poom! But what would ma’m’selle have + thought if Gabord was found dead with a hole in his neck—behind? + Eh?” + </p> + <p> + He had struck the very note that had sung in me when the temptation came; + but he was gay at once again, and I said to him, “What is the hour fixed?” + </p> + <p> + “Seven o’clock,” he answered, “and I will bring your breakfast first.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, then,” said I. “Coffee and a little tobacco will be enough.” + </p> + <p> + When he was gone, I lay down on my bag of straw, which, never having been + renewed, was now only full of worn chaff, and, gathering myself in my + cloak, was soon in a dreamless sleep. + </p> + <p> + I waked to the opening of the dungeon door, to see Gabord entering with a + torch and a tray that held my frugal breakfast. He had added some brandy, + also, of which I was glad, for it was bitter cold outside, as I discovered + later. He was quiet, seeming often to wish to speak, but pausing before + the act, never getting beyond a stumbling aho! I greeted him cheerfully + enough. After making a little toilette, I drank my coffee with relish. At + last I asked Gabord if no word had come to the citadel for me; and he + said, none at all, nothing save a message from the Governor, before + midnight, ordering certain matters. No more was said, until, turning to + the door, he told me he would return to fetch me forth in a few minutes. + But when halfway out he suddenly wheeled, came back, and blurted out, “If + you and I could only fight it out, m’sieu’! ‘Tis ill for a gentleman and a + soldier to die without thrust or parry.” + </p> + <p> + “Gabord,” said I, smiling at him, “you preach good sermons always, and I + never saw a man I’d rather fight and be killed by than you!” Then, with an + attempt at rough humour, I added, “But as I told you once, the knot is’nt + at my throat, and I’ll tie another one yet elsewhere, if God loves honest + men.” + </p> + <p> + I had no hope at all, yet I felt I must say it. He nodded, but said + nothing, and presently I was alone. + </p> + <p> + I sat down on my straw couch and composed myself to think; not upon my + end, for my mind was made up as to that, but upon the girl who was so dear + to me, whose life had crept into mine and filled it, making it of value in + the world. It must not be thought that I no longer had care for our cause, + for I would willingly have spent my life a hundred times for my country, + as my best friends will bear witness; but there comes a time when a man + has a right to set all else aside but his own personal love and welfare, + and to me the world was now bounded by just so much space as my dear Alixe + might move in. I fastened my thought upon her face as I had last seen it. + My eyes seemed to search for it also, and to find it in the torch which + stuck out, softly sputtering, from the wall. I do not pretend, even at + this distance of time, after having thought much over the thing, to give + any good reason for so sudden a change as took place in me there. All at + once a voice appeared to say to me, “When you are gone, she will be + Doltaire’s. Remember what she said. She fears him. He has a power over + her.” + </p> + <p> + Now, some will set it down to a low, unmanly jealousy and suspicion; it is + hard to name it, but I know that I was seized with a misery so deep that + all my past sufferings and disappointments, and even this present horror + were shadowy beside it. I pictured to myself Alixe in Doltaire’s arms, + after I had gone beyond human call. It is strange how an idea will seize + us and master us, and an inconspicuous possibility suddenly stand out with + huge distinctness. All at once I felt in my head “the ring of fire” of + which Mathilde had warned me, a maddening heat filled my veins, and that + hateful picture grew more vivid. Things Alixe had said the night before + flashed to my mind, and I fancied that, unknown to herself even, he + already had a substantial power over her. + </p> + <p> + He had deep determination, the gracious subtlety which charms a woman, and + she, hemmed in by his devices, overcome by his pleadings, attracted by his + enviable personality, would come at last to his will. The evening before I + had seen strong signs of the dramatic qualities of her nature. She had the + gift of imagination, the epic spirit. Even three years previous I felt how + she had seen every little incident of her daily life in a way which gave + it vividness and distinction. All things touched her with delicate + emphasis—were etched upon her brain—or did not touch her at + all. She would love the picturesque in life, though her own tastes were so + simple and fine. Imagination would beset her path with dangers; it would + be to her, with her beauty, a fatal gift, a danger to herself and others. + She would have power, and feeling it, womanlike, would use it, dissipating + her emotions, paying out the sweetness of her soul, till one day a + dramatic move, a strong picturesque personality like Doltaire’s, would + catch her from the moorings of her truth, and the end must be tragedy to + her. Doltaire! Doltaire! The name burnt into my brain. Some prescient + quality in me awaked, and I saw her the sacrifice of her imagination, of + the dramatic beauty of her nature, my enemy her tyrant and destroyer. He + would leave nothing undone to achieve his end, and do nothing that would + not in the end poison her soul and turn her very glories into miseries. + How could she withstand the charm of his keen knowledge of the world, the + fascination of his temperament, the alluring eloquence of his frank + wickedness? And I should rather a million times see her in her grave than + passed through the atmosphere of his life. + </p> + <p> + This may seem madness, selfish and small; but after-events went far to + justify my fears and imaginings, for behind there was a love, an aching, + absorbing solicitude. I can not think that my anxiety was all vulgar + smallness then. + </p> + <p> + I called him by coarse names, as I tramped up and down my dungeon; I + cursed him; impotent contempt was poured out on him; in imagination I held + him there before me, and choked him till his eyes burst out and his body + grew limp in my arms. The ring of fire in my head scorched and narrowed + till I could have shrieked in agony. My breath came short and labored, and + my heart felt as though it were in a vise and being clamped to nothing. + For an instant, also, I broke out in wild bitterness against Alixe. She + had said she would save me, and yet in an hour or less I should be dead. + She had come to me last night ah—true; but that was in keeping with + her dramatic temperament; it was the drama of it that had appealed to her; + and to-morrow she would forget me, and sink her fresh spirit in the + malarial shadows of Doltaire’s. + </p> + <p> + In my passion I thrust my hand into my waistcoat and unconsciously drew + out something. At first my only feeling was that my hand could clench it, + but slowly a knowledge of it travelled to my brain, as if through clouds + and vapours. Now I am no Catholic, I do not know that I am superstitious, + yet when I became conscious that the thing I held was the wooden cross + that Mathilde had given me, a weird feeling passed through me, and there + was an arrest of the passions of mind and body; a coolness passed over all + my nerves, and my brain got clear again, the ring of fire loosing, melting + away. It was a happy, diverting influence, which gave the mind rest for a + moment, till the better spirit, the wiser feeling, had a chance to + reassert itself; but then it seemed to me almost supernatural. + </p> + <p> + One can laugh when misery and danger are over, and it would be easy to + turn this matter into ridicule, but from that hour to this the wooden + cross which turned the flood of my feelings then into a saving channel has + never left me. I keep it, not indeed for what it was, but for what it did. + </p> + <p> + As I stood musing, there came to my mind suddenly the words of a song + which I had heard some voyageurs sing on the St. Lawrence, as I sat on the + cliff a hundred feet above them and watched them drift down in the + twilight: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Brothers, we go to the Scarlet Hills: + (Little gold sun, come out of the dawn!) + There we will meet in the cedar groves; + (Shining white dew, come down!) + There is a bed where you sleep so sound, + The little good folk of the hills will guard, + Till the morning wakes and your love comes home. + (Fly away, heart, to the Scarlet Hills!)” + </pre> + <p> + Something in the half-mystical, half-Arcadian spirit of the words soothed + me, lightened my thoughts, so that when, presently, Gabord opened the + door, and entered with four soldiers, I was calm enough for the great + shift. Gabord did not speak, but set about pinioning me himself. I asked + him if he could not let me go unpinioned, for it was ignoble to go to ones + death tied like a beast. At first he shook his head, but as if with a + sudden impulse lie cast the ropes aside, and, helping me on with my cloak, + threw again over it a heavier cloak he had brought, gave me a fur cap to + wear, and at last himself put on me a pair of woollen leggings, which, if + they were no ornament, and to be of but transitory use (it seemed strange + to me then that one should be caring for a body so soon to be cut off from + all feeling), were most comforting when we came into the bitter, steely + air. Gabord might easily have given these last tasks to the soldiers, but + he was solicitous to perform them himself. Yet with surly brow and a rough + accent he gave the word to go forward, and in a moment we were marching + through the passages, up frosty steps, in the stone corridors, and on out + of the citadel into the yard. + </p> + <p> + I remember that as we passed into the open air I heard the voice of a + soldier singing a gay air of love and war. Presently he came in sight. He + saw me, stood still for a moment looking curiously, and then, taking up + the song again at the very line where he had broken off, passed round an + angle of the building and was gone. To him I was no more than a moth + fluttering in the candle, to drop dead a moment later. + </p> + <p> + It was just on the verge of sunrise. There was the grayish-blue light in + the west, the top of a long range of forest was sharply outlined against + it, and a timorous darkness was hurrying out of the zenith. In the east a + sad golden radiance was stealing up and driving back the mystery of the + night, and that weird loneliness of an arctic world. The city was hardly + waking as yet, but straight silver columns of smoke rolled up out of many + chimneys, and the golden cross on the cathedral caught the first rays of + the sun. I was not interested in the city; I had now, as I thought, done + with men. Besides the four soldiers who had brought me out, another squad + surrounded me, commanded by a young officer whom I recognized as Captain + Lancy, the rough roysterer who had insulted me at Bigot’s palace over a + year ago. I looked with a spirit absorbed upon the world about me, and a + hundred thoughts which had to do with man’s life passed through my mind. + But the young officer, speaking sharply to me, ordered me on, and changed + the current of my thoughts. The coarseness of the man and his insulting + words were hard to bear, so that I was constrained to ask him if it were + not customary to protect a condemned man from insult rather than to expose + him to it. I said that I should be glad of my last moments in peace. At + that he asked Gabord why I was unbound, and my jailer answered that + binding was for criminals who were to be HANGED! + </p> + <p> + I could scarcely believe my ears. I was to be shot, not hanged. I had a + thrill of gratitude which I can not describe. It may seem a nice + distinction, but to me there were whole seas between the two modes of + death. I need not blush in advance for being shot—my friends could + bear that without humiliation; but hanging would have always tainted their + memory of me, try as they would against it. + </p> + <p> + “The gallows is ready, and my orders were to see him hanged,” Mr. Lancy + said. + </p> + <p> + “An order came at midnight that he should be shot,” was Gabord’s reply, + producing the order, and handing it over. + </p> + <p> + The officer contemptuously tossed it back, and now, a little more + courteous, ordered me against the wall, and I let my cloak fall to the + ground. I was placed where, looking east, I could see the Island of + Orleans, on which was the summer-house of the Seigneur Duvarney. Gabord + came to me and said, “M’sieu’, you are a brave man”—then, all at + once breaking off, he added in a low, hurried voice, “‘Tis not a long + flight to heaven, m’sieu’!” I could see his face twitching as he stood + looking at me. He hardly dared to turn round to his comrades, lest his + emotion should be seen. But the officer roughly ordered him back. Gabord + coolly drew out his watch, and made a motion to me not to take off my + cloak yet. + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis not the time by six minutes,” he said. “The gentleman is to be shot + to the stroke—aho!” His voice and manner were dogged. The officer + stepped forward threateningly; but Gabord said something angrily in an + undertone, and the other turned on his heel and began walking up and down. + This continued for a moment, in which we all were very still and bitter + cold—the air cut like steel—and then my heart gave a great + leap, for suddenly there stepped into the yard Doltaire. Action seemed + suspended in me, but I know I listened with singular curiosity to the + shrill creaking of his boots on the frosty earth, and I noticed that the + fur collar of the coat he wore was all white with the frozen moisture of + his breath, also that tiny icicles hung from his eyelashes. He came down + the yard slowly, and presently paused and looked at Gabord and the young + officer, his head laid a little to one side in a quizzical fashion, his + eyelids drooping. + </p> + <p> + “What time was monsieur to be shot?” he asked of Captain Lancy. + </p> + <p> + “At seven o’clock, monsieur,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + Doltaire took out his watch. “It wants three minutes of seven,” said he. + “What the devil means this business before the stroke o’ the hour?” waving + a hand towards me. + </p> + <p> + “We were waiting for the minute, monsieur,” was the officer’s reply. + </p> + <p> + A cynical, cutting smile crossed Doltaire’s face. “A charitable trick, + upon my soul, to fetch a gentleman from a warm dungeon and stand him + against an icy wall on a deadly morning to cool his heels as he waits for + his hour to die! You’d skin your lion and shoot him afterwards—voila!” + All this time he held the watch in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “You, Gabord,” he went on, “you are a man to obey orders—eh?” + </p> + <p> + Gabord hesitated a moment as if waiting for Lancy to speak, and then said, + “I was not in command. When I was called upon I brought him forth.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuses! excuses! You sweated to be rid of your charge.” + </p> + <p> + Gabord’s face lowered. “M’sieu’ would have been in heaven by this if I + had’nt stopped it,” he broke out angrily. + </p> + <p> + Doltaire turned sharply on Lancy. “I thought as much,” said he, “and you + would have let Gabord share your misdemeanor. Yet your father was a + gentleman! If you had shot monsieur before seven, you would have taken the + dungeon he left. You must learn, my young provincial, that you are not to + supersede France and the King. It is now seven o’clock; you will march + your men back into quarters.” + </p> + <p> + Then turning to me, he raised his cap. “You will find your cloak more + comfortable, Captain Moray,” said he, and he motioned Gabord to hand it to + me, as he came forward. “May I breakfast with you?” he added courteously. + He yawned a little. “I have not risen so early in years, and I am chilled + to the bone. Gabord insists that it is warm in your dungeon; I have a + fancy to breakfast there. It will recall my year in the Bastile.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled in a quaint, elusive sort of fashion, and as I drew the cloak + about me, I said through chattering teeth, for I had suffered with the + brutal cold, “I am glad to have the chance to offer breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “To me or any one?” he dryly suggested. “Think! by now, had I not come, + you might have been in a warmer world than this—indeed, much + warmer,” he suddenly said, as he stooped, picked up some snow in his bare + hand, and clapped it to my cheek, rubbing it with force and swiftness. The + cold had nipped it, and this was the way to draw out the frost. His + solicitude at the moment was so natural and earnest that it was hard to + think he was my enemy. + </p> + <p> + When he had rubbed awhile, he gave me his own handkerchief to dry my face; + and so perfect was his courtesy, it was impossible to do otherwise than + meet him as he meant and showed for the moment. He had stepped between me + and death, and even an enemy who does that, no matter what the motive, + deserves something at your hands. + </p> + <p> + “Gabord,” he said, as we stepped inside the citadel, “we will breakfast at + eight o’clock. Meanwhile, I have some duties with our officers here. Till + we meet in your dining-hall, then, monsieur,” he added to me, and raised + his cap. + </p> + <p> + “You must put up with frugal fare,” I answered, bowing. + </p> + <p> + “If you but furnish locusts,” he said gaily, “I will bring the wild + honey.... What wonderful hives of bees they have at the Seigneur + Duvarney’s!” he continued musingly, as if with second thought; “a + beautiful manor—a place for pretty birds and honey-bees!” + </p> + <p> + His eyelids drooped languidly, as was their way when he had said something + a little carbolic, as this was to me, because of its hateful suggestion. + His words drew nothing from me, not even a look of understanding, and, + again bowing, we went our ways. + </p> + <p> + At the door of the dungeon Gabord held the torch up to my face. His own + had a look which came as near to being gentle as was possible to him. Yet + he was so ugly that it looked almost ludicrous in him. “Poom!” said he. “A + friend at court. More comfits.” + </p> + <p> + “You think Monsieur Doltaire gets comfits, too?” asked I. + </p> + <p> + He rubbed his cheek with a key. “Aho!” mused he—“aho! M’sieu’ + Doltaire rises not early for naught.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII. “THE POINT ENVENOMED TOO!” + </h2> + <p> + I was roused by the opening of the door. Doltaire entered. He advanced + towards me with the manner of an admired comrade, and, with no trace of + what would mark him as my foe, said, as he sniffed the air: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, I have been selfish. I asked myself to breakfast with you, yet, + while I love the new experience, I will deny myself in this. You shall + breakfast with me, as you pass to your new lodgings. You must not say no,” + he added, as though we were in some salon. “I have a sleigh here at the + door, and a fellow has already gone to fan my kitchen fires and forage for + the table. Come,” he went on, “let me help you with your cloak.” + </p> + <p> + He threw my cloak around me, and turned towards the door. I had not spoken + a word, for what with weakness, the announcement that I was to have new + lodgings, and the sudden change in my affairs, I was like a child walking + in its sleep. I could do no more than bow to him and force a smile, which + must have told more than aught else of my state, for he stepped to my side + and offered me his arm. I drew back from that with thanks, for I felt a + quick hatred of myself that I should take favours of the man who had moved + for my destruction, and to steal from me my promised wife. Yet it was my + duty to live if I could, to escape if that were possible, to use every + means to foil my enemies. It was all a game; why should I not accept + advances at my enemy’s hands, and match dissimulation with dissimulation? + </p> + <p> + When I refused his arm, he smiled comically, and raised his shoulders in + deprecation. + </p> + <p> + “You forget your dignity, monsieur,” I said presently as we walked on, + Gabord meeting us and lighting us through the passages; “you voted me a + villain, a spy, at my trial!” + </p> + <p> + “Technically and publicly, you are a spy, a vulgar criminal,” he replied; + “privately, you are a foolish, blundering gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “A soldier, also, you will admit, who keeps his compact with his enemy.” + </p> + <p> + “Otherwise we should not breakfast together this morning,” he answered. + “What difference would it make to this government if our private matter + had been dragged in? Technically, you still would have been the spy. But I + will say this, monsieur, to me you are a man better worth torture than + death.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you ever stop to think of how this may end for you?” I asked quietly. + </p> + <p> + He seemed pleased with the question. “I have thought it might be + interesting,” he answered; “else, as I said, you should long ago have left + this naughty world. Is it in your mind that we shall cross swords one + day?” + </p> + <p> + “I feel it in my bones,” said I, “that I shall kill you.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment we stood at the entrance to the citadel, where a good pair + of horses and a sleigh awaited us. We got in, the robes were piled around + us, and the horses started off at a long trot. I was muffled to the ears, + but I could see how white and beautiful was the world, how the frost + glistened in the trees, how the balsams were weighted down with snow, and + how snug the chateaux looked with the smoke curling up from their hunched + chimneys. + </p> + <p> + Presently Doltaire replied to my last remark. “Conviction is the + executioner of the stupid,” said he. “When a man is not great enough to + let change and chance guide him, he gets convictions, and dies a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “Conviction has made men and nations strong,” I rejoined. + </p> + <p> + “Has made men and nations asses,” he retorted. “The Mohammmedan has + conviction, so has the Christian: they die fighting each other, and the + philosopher sits by and laughs. Expediency, monsieur, expediency is the + real wisdom, the true master of this world. Expediency saved your life + to-day; conviction would have sent you to a starry home.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke a thought came in on me. Here we were in the open world, + travelling together, without a guard of any kind. Was it not possible to + make a dash for freedom? The idea was put away from me, and yet it was a + fresh accent of Doltaire’s character that he tempted me in this way. As if + he divined what I thought, he said to me—for I made no attempt to + answer his question: + </p> + <p> + “Men of sense never confuse issues or choose the wrong time for their + purposes. Foes may have unwritten truces.” + </p> + <p> + There was the matter in a nutshell. He had done nothing carelessly; he was + touching off our conflict with flashes of genius. He was the man who had + roused in me last night the fiercest passions of my life, and yet this + morning he had saved me from death, and, though he was still my sworn + enemy, I was about to breakfast with him. + </p> + <p> + Already the streets of the town were filling; for it was the day before + Christmas, and it would be the great market-day of the year. Few noticed + us as we sped along down Palace Street and I could not conceive whither we + were going, until, passing the Hotel Dieu, I saw in front the Intendance. + I remembered the last time I was there, and what had happened then, and a + thought flashed through me that perhaps this was another trap. But I put + it from me, and soon afterwards Doltaire said: + </p> + <p> + “I have now a slice of the Intendance for my own, and we shall breakfast + like squirrels in a loft.” + </p> + <p> + As we drove into the open space before the palace, a company of soldiers + standing before the great door began marching up to the road by which we + came. With them was a prisoner. I saw at once that he was a British + officer, but I did not recognize his face. I asked his name of Doltaire, + and found it was one Lieutenant Stevens, of Rogers’ Rangers, those brave + New Englanders. After an interview with Bigot he was being taken to the + common jail. To my request that I might speak with him Doltaire assented, + and at a sign from my companion the soldiers stopped. Stevens’s eyes were + fixed on me with a puzzled, disturbed expression. He was well built, of + intrepid bearing, with a fine openness of manner joined to handsome + features. But there was a recklessness in his eye which seemed to me to + come nearer the swashbuckling character of a young French seigneur than + the wariness of a British soldier. + </p> + <p> + I spoke his name and introduced myself. His surprise and pleasure were + pronounced, for he had thought (as he said) that by this time I would be + dead. There was an instant’s flash of his eye, as if a suspicion of my + loyalty had crossed his mind; but it was gone on the instant, and + immediately Doltaire, who also had interpreted the look, smiled, and said + he had carried me off to breakfast while the furniture of my former prison + was being shifted to my new one. After a word or two more, with Stevens’s + assurance that the British had recovered from Braddock’s defeat and would + soon be knocking at the portals of the Chateau St. Louis, we parted, and + soon Doltaire and I got out at the high stone steps of the palace. + </p> + <p> + Standing there a moment, I looked round. In this space surrounding the + Intendance was gathered the history of New France. This palace, large + enough for the king of a European country with a population of a million, + was the official residence of the commercial ruler of a province. It was + the house of the miller, and across the way was the King’s storehouse, La + Friponne, where poor folk were ground between the stones. The great square + was already filling with people who had come to trade. Here were barrels + of malt being unloaded; there, great sacks of grain, bags of dried fruits, + bales of home-made cloth, and loads of fine-sawn boards and timber. Moving + about among the peasants were the regular soldiers in their white uniforms + faced with blue, red, yellow, or violet, with black three-cornered hats, + and black gaiters from foot to knee, and the militia in coats of white + with black facings. Behind a great collar of dogskin a pair of jet-black + eyes flashed out from under a pretty forehead; and presently one saw these + same eyes grown sorrowful or dull under heavy knotted brows, which told of + a life too vexed by care and labour to keep alive a spark of youth’s + romance. Now the bell in the tower above us rang a short peal, the signal + for the opening of La Friponne, and the bustling crowd moved towards its + doors. As I stood there on the great steps, I chanced to look along the + plain, bare front of the palace to an annex at the end, and standing in a + doorway opening on a pair of steps was Voban. I was amazed that he should + be there—the man whose life had been spoiled by Bigot. At the same + moment Doltaire motioned to him to return inside; which he did. + </p> + <p> + Doltaire laughed at my surprise, and as he showed me inside the palace + said: “There is no barber in the world like Voban. Interesting + interesting! I love to watch his eye when he draws the razor down my + throat. It would be so easy to fetch it across; but Voban, as you see, is + not a man of absolute conviction. It will be sport, some day, to put + Bigot’s valet to bed with a broken leg or a fit of spleen, and send Voban + to shave him.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is Mathilde?” I asked, as though I knew naught of her whereabouts. + </p> + <p> + “Mathilde is where none may touch her, monsieur; under the protection of + the daintiest lady of New France. It is her whim; and when a lady is + charming, an Intendant, even, must not trouble her caprice.” + </p> + <p> + He did not need to speak more plainly. It was he who had prevented Bigot + from taking Mathilde away from Alixe, and locking her up, or worse. I said + nothing, however, and soon we were in a large room, sumptuously furnished, + looking out on the great square. The morning sun stared in, some snowbirds + twittered on the window-sill, and inside, a canary, in an alcove hung with + plants and flowers, sang as if it were the heart of summer. All was warm + and comfortable, and it was like a dream that I had just come from the + dismal chance of a miserable death. My cloak and cap and leggings had been + taken from me when I entered, as courteously as though I had been King + Louis himself, and a great chair was drawn solicitously to the fire. All + this was done by the servant, after one quick look from Doltaire. The man + seemed to understand his master perfectly, to read one look as though it + were a volume— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The constant service of the antique world.” + </pre> + <p> + Such was Doltaire’s influence. The closer you came to him, the more + compelling was he—a devilish attraction, notably selfish, yet + capable of benevolence. Two years before this time I saw him lift a load + from the back of a peasant woman and carry it home for her, putting into + her hand a gold piece on leaving. At another time, an old man had died of + a foul disease in a miserable upper room of a warehouse. Doltaire was + passing at the moment when the body should be carried to burial. The + stricken widow of the dead man stood below, waiting, but no one would + fetch the body down. Doltaire stopped and questioned her kindly, and in + another minute he was driving the carter and another upstairs at the point + of his sword. Together they brought the body down, and Doltaire followed + it to the burying-ground; keeping the gravedigger at his task when he + would have run away, and saying the responses to the priest in the short + service read above the grave. + </p> + <p> + I said to him then, “You rail at the world and scoff at men and many + decencies, and yet you do these things!” + </p> + <p> + To this he replied—he was in my own lodgings at the time—“The + brain may call all men liars and fools, but the senses feel the shock of + misery which we do not ourselves inflict. Inflicting, we are prone to + cruelty, as you have seen a schoolmaster begin punishment with tears, grow + angry at the shrinking back under his cane, and give way to a sudden lust + of torture. I have little pity for those who can help themselves—let + them fight or eat the leek; but the child and the helpless and the sick it + is a pleasure to aid. I love the poor as much as I love anything. I could + live their life, if I were put to it. As a gentleman, I hate squalor and + the puddles of wretchedness but I could have worked at the plough or the + anvil; I could have dug in the earth till my knuckles grew big and my + shoulders hardened to a roundness, have eaten my beans and pork and + pea-soup, and have been a healthy ox, munching the bread of industry and + trailing the puissant pike, a diligent serf. I have no ethics, and yet I + am on the side of the just when they do not put thorns in my bed to keep + me awake at night!” + </p> + <p> + Upon the walls hung suits of armour, swords of beautiful make, spears, + belts of wonderful workmanship, a tattered banner, sashes knit by ladies’ + fingers, pouches, bandoleers, and many strong sketches of scenes that I + knew well. Now and then a woman’s head in oils or pencil peeped out from + the abundant ornaments. I recalled then another thing he said at that time + of which I write: + </p> + <p> + “I have never juggled with my conscience—never ‘made believe’ with + it. My will was always stronger than my wish for anything, always stronger + than temptation. I have chosen this way or that deliberately. I am ever + ready to face consequences, and never to cry out. It is the ass who does + not deserve either reward or punishment who says that something carried + him away, and, being weak, he fell. That is a poor man who is no stronger + than his passions. I can understand the devil fighting God, and taking the + long punishment without repentance, like a powerful prince as he was. I + could understand a peasant, killing King Louis in the palace, and being + ready, if he had a hundred lives, to give them all, having done the deed + he set out to do. If a man must have convictions of that sort, he can + escape everlasting laughter—the final hell—only by facing the + rebound of his wild deeds.” + </p> + <p> + These were strange sentiments in the mouth of a man who was ever the + mannered courtier, and as I sat there alone, while he was gone elsewhere + for some minutes, many such things he had said came back to me, suggested, + no doubt, by this new, inexplicable attitude towards myself. I could trace + some of his sentiments, perhaps vaguely, to the fact that—as I had + come to know through the Seigneur Duvarney—his mother was of peasant + blood, the beautiful daughter of a farmer of Poictiers, who had died soon + after giving birth to Doltaire. His peculiar nature had shown itself in + his refusal to accept a title. It was his whim to be the plain “Monsieur”; + behind which was, perhaps, some native arrogancy which made him prefer + that to being a noble whose origin, well known, must ever interfere with + his ambitions. Then, too, maybe, the peasant in him—never in his + face or form, which were patrician altogether—spoke for more truth + and manliness than he was capable of, and so he chose to be the cynical, + irresponsible courtier, while many of his instincts had urged him to the + peasant’s integrity. He had undisturbed, however, one instinct of the + peasant—a directness, which was evident chiefly in the clearness of + his thoughts. + </p> + <p> + As these things hurried through my mind, my body sunk in a kind of + restfulness before the great fire, Doltaire came back. + </p> + <p> + “I will not keep you from breakfast,” said he. “Voban must wait, if you + will pass by untidiness.” + </p> + <p> + A thought flashed through my mind. Maybe Voban had some word for me from + Alixe! So I said instantly, “I am not hungry. Perhaps you will let me wait + yonder while Voban tends you. As you said, it should be interesting.” + </p> + <p> + “You will not mind the disorder of my dressing-room? Well, then, this way, + and we can talk while Voban plays with temptation.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he courteously led the way into another chamber, where Voban + stood waiting. I spoke to him, and he bowed, but did not speak; and then + Doltaire said: + </p> + <p> + “You see, Voban, your labour on Monsieur was wasted so far as concerns the + world to come. You trimmed him for the glorious company of the apostles, + and see, he breakfasts with Monsieur Doltaire—in the Intendance, + too, my Voban, which, as you know, is wicked—a very nest of wasps!” + </p> + <p> + I never saw more hate than shot out of Voban’s eyes at that moment; but + the lids drooped over them at once, and he made ready for his work, as + Doltaire, putting aside his coat, seated himself, laughing. There was no + little daring, as there was cruelty, in thus torturing a man whose life + had been broken by Doltaire’s associate. I wondered now and then if + Doltaire were not really putting acid on the barber’s bare nerves for some + other purpose than mere general cruelty. Even as he would have understood + the peasant’s murder of King Louis, so he would have seen a logical end to + a terrible game in Bigot’s death at the hand of Voban. Possibly he + wondered that Voban did not strike, and he himself took a delight in + showing him his own wrongs occasionally. Then, again, Doltaire might wish + for Bigot’s death, to succeed him in his place! But this I put by as + improbable, for the Intendant’s post was not his ambition, or, favourite + of La Pompadour as he was, he would, desiring, have long ago achieved that + end. Moreover, every evidence showed that he would gladly return to + France, for his clear brain foresaw the final ruin of the colony and the + triumph of the British. He had once said in my hearing: + </p> + <p> + “Those swaggering Englishmen will keep coming on. They are too stupid to + turn back. The eternal sameness of it all will so distress us we shall + awake one morning, find them at our bedsides, give a kick, and die from + sheer ennui. They’ll use our banners to boil their fat puddings in, + they’ll roast oxen in the highways, and after our girls have married them + they’ll turn them into kitchen wenches with frowsy skirts and ankles like + beeves!” + </p> + <p> + But, indeed, beneath his dangerous irony there was a strain of impishness, + and he would, if need be, laugh at his own troubles, and torture himself + as he had tortured others. This morning he was full of a carbolic humour. + As the razor came to his neck he said: + </p> + <p> + “Voban, a barber must have patience. It is a sad thing to mistake friend + for enemy. What is a friend? Is it one who says sweet words?” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause, in which the shaving went on, and then he continued: + </p> + <p> + “Is it he who says, I have eaten Voban’s bread, and Voban shall therefore + go to prison, or be hurried to Walhalla? Or is it he who stays the iron + hand, who puts nettles in Voban’s cold, cold bed, that he may rise early + and go forth among the heroes?” + </p> + <p> + I do not think Voban understood that, through some freak of purpose, + Doltaire was telling him thus obliquely he had saved him from Bigot’s + cruelty, from prison or death. Once or twice he glanced at me, but not + meaningly, for Doltaire was seated opposite a mirror, and could see each + motion made by either of us. Presently Doltaire said to me idly: + </p> + <p> + “I dine to-day at the Seigneur Duvarney’s. You will be glad to hear that + mademoiselle bids fair to rival the charming Madame Cournal. Her followers + are as many, so they say, and all in one short year she has suddenly + thrown out a thousand new faculties and charms. Doubtless you remember she + was gifted, but who would have thought she could have blossomed so! She + was all light and softness and air; she is now all fire and skill as well. + Matchless! matchless! Every day sees her with some new capacity, some + fresh and delicate aplomb. She has set the town admiring, and jealous + mothers prophesy trist ending for her. Her swift mastery of the social + arts is weird, they say. La! la! The social arts! A good brain, a gift of + penetration, a manner—which is a grand necessity, and it must be + with birth—no heart to speak of, and the rest is easy. No heart—there + is the thing; with a good brain and senses all warm with life—to + feel, but never to have the arrow strike home. You must never think to + love and be loved, and be wise too. The emotions blind the judgment. Be + heartless, be perfect with heavenly artifice, and, if you are a woman, + have no vitriol on your tongue—and you may rule at Versailles or + Quebec. But with this difference: in Quebec you may be virtuous; at + Versailles you must not. It is a pity that you may not meet Mademoiselle + Duvarney. She would astound you. She was a simple ballad a year ago; + to-morrow she may be an epic.” + </p> + <p> + He nodded at me reflectively, and went on: + </p> + <p> + “‘Mademoiselle,’ said the Chevalier de la Darante to her at dinner, some + weeks ago, ‘if I were young, I should adore you.’ ‘Monsieur,’ she + answered, ‘you use that “if” to shirk the responsibility.’ That put him on + his mettle. ‘Then, by the gods, I adore you now,’ he answered. ‘If I were + young, I should blush to hear you say so,’ was her reply. ‘I empty out my + heart, and away trips the disdainful nymph with a laugh,’ he rejoined + gaily, the rusty old courtier; ‘there’s nothing left but to fall upon my + sword!’ ‘Disdainful nymphs are the better scabbards for distinguished + swords,’ she said, with charming courtesy. Then, laughing softly, ‘There + is an Egyptian proverb which runs thus: “If thou, Dol, son of Hoshti, hast + emptied out thy heart, and it bring no fruit in exchange, curse not thy + gods and die, but build a pyramid in the vineyard where thy love was + spent, and write upon it, Pride hath no conqueror.”’ It is a mind for a + palace, is it not?” + </p> + <p> + I could see in the mirror facing him the provoking devilry of his eyes. I + knew that he was trying how much he could stir me. He guessed my love for + her, but I could see he was sure that she no longer—if she ever had—thought + of me. Besides, with a lover’s understanding, I saw also that he liked to + talk of her. His eyes, in the mirror, did not meet mine, but were fixed, + as on some distant and pleasing prospect, though there was, as always, a + slight disdain at his mouth. But the eyes were clear, resolute, and + strong, never wavering—and I never saw them waver—yet in them + something distant and inscrutable. It was a candid eye, and he was candid + in his evil; he made no pretense; and though the means to his ends were + wicked, they were never low. Presently, glancing round the room, I saw an + easel on which was a canvas. He caught my glance. + </p> + <p> + “Silly work for a soldier and a gentleman,” he said, “but silliness is a + great privilege. It needs as much skill to carry folly as to be an + ambassador. Now, you are often much too serious, Captain Moray.” + </p> + <p> + At that he rose, and, after putting on his coat, came over to the easel + and threw up the cloth, exposing a portrait of Alixe! It had been painted + in by a few bold strokes, full of force and life, yet giving her face more + of that look which comes to women bitterly wise in the ways of this world + than I cared to see. The treatment was daring, and it cut me like a knife + that the whole painting had a red glow: the dress was red, the light + falling on the hair was red, the shine of the eyes was red also. It was + fascinating, but weird, and, to me, distressful. There flashed through my + mind the remembrance of Mathilde in her scarlet robe as she stood on the + Heights that momentous night of my arrest. I looked at the picture in + silence. He kept gazing at it with a curious, half-quizzical smile, as if + he were unconscious of my presence. At last he said, with a slight + knitting of his brows: + </p> + <p> + “It is strange—strange. I sketched that in two nights ago, by the + light of the fire, after I had come from the Chateau St. Louis—from + memory, as you see. It never struck me where the effect was taken from, + that singular glow over all the face and figure. But now I see it; it + returns: it is the impression of colour in the senses, left from the night + that lady-bug Mathilde flashed out on the Heights! A fine—a fine + effect! H’m! for another such one might give another such Mathilde!” + </p> + <p> + At that moment we were both startled by a sound behind us, and, wheeling, + we saw Voban, a mad look in his face, in the act of throwing at Doltaire a + short spear which he had caught up from a corner. The spear flew from his + hand even as Doltaire sprang aside, drawing his sword with great + swiftness. I thought he must have been killed, but the rapidity of his + action saved him, for the spear passed his shoulder so close that it tore + away a shred of his coat, and stuck in the wall behind him. In another + instant Doltaire had his sword-point at Voban’s throat. The man did not + cringe, did not speak a word, but his hands clinched, and the muscles of + his face worked painfully. There was at first a fury in Doltaire’s face + and a metallic hardness in his eyes, and I was sure he meant to pass his + sword through the other’s body; but after standing for a moment, death + hanging on his sword-point, he quietly lowered his weapon, and, sitting on + a chair-arm, looked curiously at Voban, as one might sit and watch a mad + animal within a cage. Voban did not stir, but stood rooted to the spot, + his eyes, however, never moving from Doltaire. It was clear that he had + looked for death, and now expected punishment and prison. Doltaire took + out his handkerchief and wiped a sweat from his cheeks. He turned to me + soon, and said, in a singularly impersonal way, as though he were speaking + of some animal: + </p> + <p> + “He had great provocation. The Duchess de Valois had a young panther once + which she had brought up from the milk. She was inquisitive, and used to + try its temper. It was good sport, but one day she took away its food, + gave it to the cat, and pointed her finger at monsieur the panther. The + Duchess de Valois never bared her breast thereafter to an admiring world—a + panther’s claws leave scars.” He paused, and presently continued: “You + remember it, Voban; you were the Duke’s valet then—you see I recall + you! Well, the panther lost his head, both figuratively and in fact. The + panther did not mean to kill, maybe, but to kill the lady’s beauty was + death to her.... Voban, yonder spear was poisoned!” + </p> + <p> + He wiped his face, and said to me, “I think you saw that at the dangerous + moment I had no fear; yet now when the game is in my own hands, my cheek + runs with cold sweat. How easy to be charged with cowardice! Like + evaporation, the hot breath of peril passing suddenly into the cold air of + safety leaves this!”—he wiped his cheek again. + </p> + <p> + He rose, moved slowly to Voban, and, pricking him with his sword, said, + “You are a bungler, barber. Now listen. I never wronged you; I have only + been your blister. I prick your sores at home. Tut! tut! they prick them + openly in the market-place. I gave you life a minute ago; I give you + freedom now. Some day I may ask that life for a day’s use, and then, + Voban, then will you give it?” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment’s pause, and the barber answered, “M’sieu’, I owe you + nothing. I would have killed you then; you may kill me, if you will.” + </p> + <p> + Doltaire nodded musingly. Something was passing through his mind. I judged + he was thinking that here was a man who as a servant would be invaluable. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, we can discuss the thing at leisure, Voban,” he said at last. + “Meanwhile you may wait here till Captain Moray has breakfasted, and then + you shall be at his service; and I would have a word with you, also.” + </p> + <p> + Turning with a polite gesture to me, he led the way into the + breakfast-room, and at once, half famished, I was seated at the table, + drinking a glass of good wine, and busy with a broiled whitefish of + delicate quality. We were silent for a time, and the bird in the alcove + kept singing as though it were in Eden, while chiming in between the + rhythms there came the silvery sound of sleigh-bells from the world + without. I was in a sort of dream, and I felt there must be a rude + awakening soon. After a while, Doltaire, who seemed thinking keenly, + ordered the servant to take in a glass of wine to Voban. + </p> + <p> + He looked up at me after a little, as if he had come back from a long + distance, and said, “It is my fate to have as foes the men I would have as + friends, and as friends the men I would have as foes. The cause of my + friends is often bad; the cause of my enemies is sometimes good. It is + droll. I love directness, yet I have ever been the slave of complication. + I delight in following my reason, yet I have been of the motes that + stumble in the sunlight. I have enough cruelty in me, enough selfishness + and will, to be a ruler, and yet I have never held an office in my life. I + love true diplomacy, yet I have been comrade to the official liar, and am + the captain of intrigue—la! la!” + </p> + <p> + “You have never had an enthusiasm, a purpose?” said I. + </p> + <p> + He laughed, a dry, ironical laugh. “I have both an enthusiasm and a + purpose,” he answered, “or you would by now be snug in bed forever.” + </p> + <p> + I knew what he meant, though he could not guess I understood. He was + referring to Alixe and the challenge she had given him. I did not feel + that I had anything to get by playing a part of friendliness, and besides, + he was a man to whom the boldest speaking was always palatable, even when + most against himself. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure neither would bear daylight,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I almost blush to say that they are both honest—would at this + moment endure a moral microscope. The experience, I confess, is new, and + has the glamour of originality.” + </p> + <p> + “It will not stay honest,” I retorted. “Honesty is a new toy with you. You + will break it on the first rock that shows.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder,” he answered, “I wonder,... and yet I suppose you are right. + Some devilish incident will twist things out of gear, and then the old + Adam must improvise for safety and success. Yes, I suppose my one + beautiful virtue will get a twist.” + </p> + <p> + What he had said showed me his mind as in a mirror. He had no idea that I + had the key to his enigmas. I felt as had Voban in the other room. I could + see that he had set his mind on Alixe, and that she had roused in him what + was perhaps the first honest passion of his life. + </p> + <p> + What further talk we might have had I can not tell, but while we were + smoking and drinking coffee the door opened suddenly, and the servant + said, “His Excellency the Marquis de Vaudreuil!” + </p> + <p> + Doltaire got to his feet, a look of annoyance crossing his face; but he + courteously met the Governor, and placed a chair for him. The Governor, + however, said frostily, “Monsieur Doltaire, it must seem difficult for + Captain Moray to know who is Governor in Canada, since he has so many + masters. I am not sure who needs assurance most upon the point, you or he. + This is the second time he has been feasted at the Intendance when he + should have been in prison. I came too late that other time; now it seems + I am opportune.” + </p> + <p> + Doltaire’s reply was smooth: “Your Excellency will pardon the liberty. The + Intendance was a sort of halfway house between the citadel and the jail.” + </p> + <p> + “There is news from France,” the Governor said, “brought from Gaspe. We + meet in council at the Chateau in an hour. A guard is without to take + Captain Moray to the common jail.” + </p> + <p> + In a moment more, after a courteous good-by from Doltaire, and a remark + from the Governor to the effect that I had spoiled his night’s sleep to no + purpose, I was soon on my way to the common jail, where arriving, what was + my pleased surprise to see Gabord! He had been told off to be my especial + guard, his services at the citadel having been deemed so efficient. He was + outwardly surly—as rough as he was ever before the world, and + without speaking a word to me, he had a soldier lock me in a cell. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII. “A LITTLE BOAST” + </h2> + <p> + My new abode was more cheerful than the one I had quitted in the citadel. + It was not large, but it had a window, well barred, through which came the + good strong light of the northern sky. A wooden bench for my bed stood in + one corner, and, what cheered me much, there was a small iron stove. Apart + from warmth, its fire would be companionable, and to tend it a means of + passing the time. Almost the first thing I did was to examine it. It was + round, and shaped like a small bulging keg on end. It had a lid on top, + and in the side a small door with bars for draught, suggesting to me in + little the delight of a fireplace. A small pipe from the side carried away + the smoke into a chimney in the wall. It seemed to me luxurious, and my + spirits came back apace. + </p> + <p> + There was no fire yet, and it was bitter cold, so that I took to walking + up and down to keep warmth in me. I was ill nourished, and I felt the cold + intensely. But I trotted up and down, plans of escape already running + through my head. I was as far off as you can imagine from that event of + the early morning, when I stood waiting, half frozen, to be shot by + Lancy’s men. + </p> + <p> + After I had been walking swiftly up and down for an hour or more, slapping + my hands against my sides to keep them warm—for it was so cold I + ached and felt a nausea—I was glad to see Gabord enter with a + soldier carrying wood and shavings. I do not think I could much longer + have borne the chilling air—a dampness, too, had risen from the + floor, which had been washed that morning—for my clothes were very + light in texture and much worn. I had had but the one suit since I entered + the dungeon, for my other suit, which was by no means smart, had been + taken from me when I was first imprisoned the year before. As if many good + things had been destined to come at once, soon afterwards another soldier + entered with a knapsack, which he laid down on the bench. My delight was + great when I saw it held my other poor suit of clothes, together with a + rough set of woollens, a few handkerchiefs, two pairs of stockings, and a + wool cap for night wear. + </p> + <p> + Gabord did not speak to me at all, but roughly hurried the soldier at his + task of fire-lighting, and ordered the other to fetch a pair of stools and + a jar of water. Meanwhile I stood near, watching, and stretched out my + skinny hands to the grateful heat as soon as the fire was lighted. I had a + boy’s delight in noting how the draught pumped the fire into violence, + shaking the stove till it puffed and roared. I was so filled, that moment, + with the domestic spirit that I thought a steaming kettle on the little + stove would give me a tabby-like comfort. + </p> + <p> + “Why not a kettle on the hob?” said I gaily to Gabord. + </p> + <p> + “Why not a cat before the fire, a bit of bacon on the coals, a pot of + mulled wine at the elbow, and a wench’s chin to chuck, baby-bumbo!” said + Gabord in a mocking voice, which made the soldiers laugh at my expense. + “And a spinet, too, for ducky dear, Scarrat; a piece of cake and cherry + wine, and a soul to go to heaven! Tonnerre!” he added, with an oath, + “these English prisoners want the world for a sou, and they’d owe that + till judgment day.” + </p> + <p> + I saw at once the meaning of his words, for he turned his back on me and + went to the window and tried the stanchions, seeming much concerned about + them, and muttering to himself. I drew out from my pocket two gold pieces, + and gave them to the soldier Scarrat; and the other soldier coming in just + then, I did the same with him; and I could see that their respect for me + mightily increased. Gabord, still muttering, turned to us again, and began + to berate the soldiers for their laziness. As the two men turned to go, + Scarrat, evidently feeling that something was due for the gold I had + given, said to Gabord, “Shall m’sieu’ have the kettle?” + </p> + <p> + Gabord took a step forward as if to strike the soldier, but stopped short, + blew out his cheeks, and laughed in a loud, mocking way. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay, fetch m’sieu’ the kettle, and fetch him flax to spin, and a pinch + of snuff, and hot flannels for his stomach, and every night at sundown you + shall feed him with pretty biscuits soaked in milk. Ah, go to the devil + and fetch the kettle, fool!” he added roughly again, and quickly the place + was empty save for him and myself. + </p> + <p> + “Those two fellows are to sit outside your cage door, dickey-bird, and two + are to march beneath your window yonder, so you shall not lack care if you + seek to go abroad. Those are the new orders.” + </p> + <p> + “And you, Gabord,” said I, “are you not to be my jailer?” I said it + sorrowfully, for I had a genuine feeling for him, and I could not keep + that from my voice. + </p> + <p> + When I had spoken so feelingly, he stood for a moment, flushing and + puffing, as if confused by the compliment in the tone, and then he + answered, “I’m to keep you safe till word comes from the King what’s to be + done with you.” + </p> + <p> + Then he suddenly became surly again, standing with legs apart and keys + dangling; for Scarrat entered with the kettle, and put it on the stove. + “You will bring blankets for m’sieu’,” he added, “and there’s an order on + my table for tobacco, which you will send your comrade for.” + </p> + <p> + In a moment we were left alone. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll live like a stuffed pig here,” he said, “though ‘twill be cold o’ + nights.” + </p> + <p> + After another pass or two of words he left me, and I hastened to make a + better toilet than I had done for a year. My old rusty suit which I + exchanged for the one I had worn seemed almost sumptuous, and the woollen + wear comforted my weakened body. Within an hour my cell looked snug, and I + sat cosily by the fire, feeding it lazily. + </p> + <p> + It must have been about four o’clock when there was a turning of keys and + a shooting of bolts, the door opened, and who should step inside but + Gabord, followed by Alixe! I saw Alixe’s lips frame my name thrice, though + no word came forth, and my heart was bursting to cry out and clasp her to + my breast. But still with a sweet, serious look cast on me, she put out + her hand and stayed me. + </p> + <p> + Gabord, looking not at us at all, went straight to the window, and, + standing on a stool, busied himself with the stanchions and to whistle. I + took Alixe’s hands and held them, and spoke her name softly, and she + smiled up at me with so perfect a grace that I thought there never was + aught like it in the world. + </p> + <p> + She was the first to break the good spell. I placed a seat for her, and + sat down by her. She held out her fingers to the fire, and then, after a + moment, she told me the story of last night’s affair. First she made me + tell her briefly of the events of the morning, of which she knew, but not + fully. This done, she began. I will set down her story as a whole, and you + must understand as you read that it was told as women tell a story, with + all little graces and diversions, and those small details with which even + momentous things are enveloped in their eyes. I loved her all the more + because of these, and I saw, as Doltaire had said, how admirably poised + was her intellect, how acute her wit, how delicate and astute a + diplomatist she was becoming; and yet, through all, preserving a + simplicity of character almost impossible of belief. Such qualities, in + her directed to good ends, in lesser women have made them infamous. Once + that day Alixe said to me, breaking off as her story went on, “Oh, Robert, + when I see what power I have to dissimulate—for it is that, call it + by what name you will—when I see how I enjoy accomplishing against + all difficulty, how I can blind even so skilled a diplomatist as Monsieur + Doltaire, I almost tremble. I see how, if God had not given me something + here”—she placed her hand upon her heart—“that saves me, I + might be like Madame Cournal, and far worse, far worse than she. For I + love power—I do love it; I can see that!” + </p> + <p> + She did not realize that it was her strict honesty with herself that was + her true safeguard. + </p> + <p> + But here is the story she told me: + </p> + <p> + “When I left you, last night, I went at once to my home, and was glad to + get in without being seen. At nine o’clock we were to be at the Chateau, + and while my sister Georgette was helping me with my toilette—oh, + how I wished she would go and leave me quite alone!—my head was in a + whirl, and now and then I could feel my heart draw and shake like a + half-choked pump, and there was a strange pain behind my eyes. Georgette + is of such a warm disposition, so kind always to me, whom she would yield + to in everything, so simple in her affections, that I seemed standing + there by her like an intrigante, as one who had got wisdom at the price of + a good something lost. But do not think, Robert, that for one instant I + was sorry I played a part, and have done so for a long year and more. I + would do it and more again, if it were for you. + </p> + <p> + “Georgette could not understand why it was I stopped all at once and + caught her head to my breast, as she sat by me where I stood arranging my + gown. I do not know quite why I did it, but perhaps it was from my + yearning that never should she have a lover in such sorrow and danger as + mine, and that never should she have to learn to mask her heart as I have + done. Ah, sometimes I fear, Robert, that when all is over, and you are + free, and you see what the world and all this playing at hide-and-seek + have made me, you will feel that such as Georgette, who have never looked + inside the hearts of wicked people, and read the tales therein for + knowledge to defeat wickedness—that such as she were better fitted + for your life and love. No, no, please do not take my hand—not till + you have heard all I am going to tell.” + </p> + <p> + She continued quietly; yet her eye flashed out now and then, and now and + then, also, something in her thoughts as to how she, a weak, powerless + girl, had got her ends against astute evil men, sent a little laugh to her + lips; for she had by nature as merry a heart as serious. + </p> + <p> + “At nine o’clock we came to the Chateau St. Louis from Ste. Anne Street, + where our winter home is—yet how much do I prefer the Manor House! + There were not many guests to supper, and Monsieur Doltaire was not among + them. I affected a genial surprise, and asked the Governor if one of the + two vacant chairs at the table was for monsieur; and looking a little as + though he would reprove me—for he does not like to think of me as + interested in monsieur—he said it was, but that monsieur was + somewhere out of town, and there was no surety that he would come. The + other chair was for the Chevalier de la Darante, one of the oldest and + best of our nobility, who pretends great roughness and barbarism, but is a + kind and honourable gentleman, though odd. He was one of your judges, + Robert; and though he condemned you, he said that you had some reason on + your side. And I will show you how he stood for you last night. + </p> + <p> + “I need not tell you how the supper passed, while I was planning—planning + to reach the Governor if monsieur did not come; and if he did come, how to + play my part so he should suspect nothing but a vain girl’s caprice, and + maybe heartlessness. Moment after moment went by, and he came not. I + almost despaired. Presently the Chevalier de la Darante entered, and he + took the vacant chair beside me. I was glad of this. I had gone in upon + the arm of a rusty gentleman of the Court, who is over here to get his + health again, and does it by gaming and drinking at the Chateau Bigot. The + Chevalier began at once to talk to me, and he spoke of you, saying that he + had heard of your duel with my brother, and that formerly you had been + much a guest at our house. I answered him with what carefulness I could, + and brought round the question of your death, by hint and allusion getting + him to speak of the mode of execution. + </p> + <p> + “Upon this point he spoke his mind strongly, saying that it was a case + where the penalty should be the musket, not the rope. It was no subject + for the supper table, and the Governor felt this, and I feared he would + show displeasure; but other gentlemen took up the matter, and he could not + easily change the talk at the moment. The feeling was strong against you. + My father stayed silent, but I could see he watched the effect upon the + Governor. I knew that he himself had tried to get the mode of execution + changed, but the Governor had been immovable. The Chevalier spoke most + strongly, for he is afraid of no one, and he gave the other gentlemen raps + upon the knuckles. + </p> + <p> + “‘I swear,’ he said at last, ‘I am sorry now I gave in to his death at + all, for it seems to me that there is much cruelty and hatred behind the + case against him. He seemed to me a gentleman of force and fearlessness, + and what he said had weight. Why was the gentleman not exchanged long ago? + He was here three years before he was tried on this charge. Ay, there’s + the point. Other prisoners were exchanged—why not he? If the + gentleman is not given a decent death, after these years of captivity, I + swear I will not leave Kamaraska again to set foot in Quebec.’ + </p> + <p> + “At that the Governor gravely said, ‘These are matters for our Council, + dear Chevalier.’ To this the Chevalier replied, ‘I meant no reflection on + your Excellency, but you are good enough to let the opinions of gentlemen + not so wise as you weigh with you in your efforts to be just; and I have + ever held that one wise autocrat was worth a score of juries.’ There was + an instant’s pause, and then my father said quietly, ‘If his Excellency + had always councillors and colleagues like the Chevalier de la Darante, + his path would be easier, and Canada happier and richer.’ This settled the + matter, for the Governor, looking at them both for a moment, suddenly + said, ‘Gentlemen, you shall have your way, and I thank you for your + confidence.—If the ladies will pardon a sort of council of state + here!’ he added. The Governor called a servant, and ordered pen, ink, and + paper; and there before us all he wrote an order to Gabord, your jailer, + to be delivered before midnight. + </p> + <p> + “He had begun to read it aloud to us, when the curtains of the + entrance-door parted, and Monsieur Doltaire stepped inside. The Governor + did not hear him, and monsieur stood for a moment listening. When the + reading was finished, he gave a dry little laugh, and came down to the + Governor, apologizing for his lateness, and bowing to the rest of us. He + did not look at me at all, but once he glanced keenly at my father, and I + felt sure that he had heard my father’s words to the Governor. + </p> + <p> + “‘Have the ladies been made councillors?’ he asked lightly, and took his + seat, which was opposite to mine. ‘Have they all conspired to give a + criminal one less episode in his life for which to blush?... May I not + join the conspiracy?’ he added, glancing round, and lifting a glass of + wine. Not even yet had he looked at me. Then he waved his glass the + circuit of the table, and said, ‘I drink to the councillors and applaud + the conspirators,’ and as he raised his glass to his lips his eyes came + abruptly to mine and stayed, and he bowed profoundly and with an air of + suggestion. He drank, still looking, and then turned again to the + Governor. I felt my heart stand still. Did he suspect my love for you, + Robert? Had he discovered something? Was Gabord a traitor to us? Had I + been watched, detected? I could have shrieked at the suspense. I was like + one suddenly faced with a dreadful accusation, with which was a great + fear. But I held myself still—oh, so still, so still—and as in + a dream I heard the Governor say pleasantly, ‘I would I had such + conspirators always by me. I am sure you would wish them to take more + responsibility than you will now assume in Canada.’ Doltaire bowed and + smiled, and the Governor went on: ‘I am sure you will approve of Captain + Moray being shot instead of hanged. But indeed it has been my good friend + the Chevalier here who has given me the best council I have held in many a + day.’ + </p> + <p> + “To this Monsieur Doltaire replied: ‘A council unknown to statute, but + approved of those who stand for etiquette with ones foe’s at any cost. For + myself, it is so unpleasant to think of the rope’” (here Alixe hid her + face in her hands for a moment) “‘that I should eat no breakfast + to-morrow, if the gentleman from Virginia were to hang.’ It was impossible + to tell from his tone what was in his mind, and I dared not think of his + failure to interfere as he had promised me. As yet he had done nothing, I + could see, and in eight or nine hours more you were to die. He did not + look at me again for some time, but talked to my mother and my father and + the Chevalier, commenting on affairs in France and the war between our + countries, but saying nothing of where he had been during the past week. + He seemed paler and thinner than when I last saw him, and I felt that + something had happened to him. You shall hear soon what it was. + </p> + <p> + “At last he turned from the Chevalier to me, and, said, ‘When did you hear + from your brother, mademoiselle?’ I told him; and he added, ‘I have had a + letter since, and after supper, if you will permit me, I will tell you of + it.’ Turning to my father and my mother, he assured them of Juste’s + well-being, and afterwards engaged in talk with the Governor, to whom he + seemed to defer. When we all rose to go to the salon, he offered my mother + his arm, and I went in upon the arm of the good Chevalier. A few moments + afterwards he came to me, and remarked cheerfully, ‘In this farther corner + where the spinet sounds most we can talk best’; and we went near to the + spinet, where Madame Lotbiniere was playing. ‘It is true,’ he began, ‘that + I have had a letter from your brother. He begs me to use influence for his + advancement. You see he writes to me instead of to the Governor. You can + guess how I stand in France. Well, we shall see what I may do.... Have you + not wondered concerning me this week?’ he asked. I said to him, ‘I scarce + expected you till after to-morrow, when you would plead some accident as + cause for not fulfilling your pretty little boast.’ He looked at me + sharply for a minute, and then said: ‘A pretty LITTLE boast, is it? H’m! + you touch great things with light fingers.’ I nodded. ‘Yes,’ said I, ‘when + I have no great faith.’ ‘You have marvellous coldness for a girl that + promised warmth in her youth,’ he answered. ‘Even I, who am old in these + matters, can not think of this Moray’s death without a twinge, for it is + not like an affair of battle; but you seem to think of it in its relation + to my “little boast,” as you call it. Is it not so?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘No, no,’ said I, with apparent indignation, ‘you must not make me out so + cruel. I am not so hard-hearted as you think. My brother is well—I + have no feeling against Captain Moray on his account; and as for spying—well, + it is only a painful epithet for what is done here and everywhere all the + time.’ ‘Dear me, dear me,’ he remarked lightly, ‘what a mind you have for + argument!—a born casuist; and yet, like all women, you would let + your sympathy rule you in matters of state. But come,’ he added, ‘where do + you think I have been?’ It was hard to answer him gaily, and yet it must + be done, and so I said, ‘You have probably put yourself in prison, that + you should not keep your tiny boast.’ ‘I have been in prison,’ he + answered, ‘and I was on the wrong side, with no key—even locked in a + chest-room of the Intendance,’ he explained, ‘but as yet I do not know by + whom, nor am I sure why. After two days without food or drink, I managed + to get out through the barred window. I spent three days in my room, ill, + and here I am. You must not speak of this—you will not?’ he asked + me. ‘To no one,’ I answered gaily, ‘but my other self.’ ‘Where is your + other self?’ he asked. ‘In here,’ said I, touching my bosom. I did not + mean to turn my head away when I said it, but indeed I felt I could not + look him in the eyes at the moment, for I was thinking of you. + </p> + <p> + “He mistook me; he thought I was coquetting with him, and he leaned + forward to speak in my ear, so that I could feel his breath on my cheek. I + turned faint, for I saw how terrible was this game I was playing; but oh, + Robert, Robert,”—her hands fluttered towards me, then drew back—“it + was for your sake, for your sake, that I let his hand rest on mine an + instant, as he said: ‘I shall go hunting THERE to find your other self. + Shall I know the face if I see it?’ I drew my hand away, for it was + torture to me, and I hated him, but I only said a little scornfully, ‘You + do not stand by your words. You said’—here I laughed a little + disdainfully—‘that you would meet the first test to prove your right + to follow the second boast.’ + </p> + <p> + “He got to his feet, and said in a low, firm voice: ‘Your memory is + excellent, your aplomb perfect. You are young to know it all so well. But + you bring your own punishment,’ he added, with a wicked smile, ‘and you + shall pay hereafter. I am going to the Governor. Bigot has arrived, and is + with Madame Cournal yonder. You shall have proof in half an hour.’ + </p> + <p> + “Then he left me. An idea occurred to me. If he succeeded in staying your + execution, you would in all likelihood be placed in the common jail. I + would try to get an order from the Governor to visit the jail to + distribute gifts to the prisoners, as my mother and I had done before on + the day before Christmas. So, while Monsieur Doltaire was passing with + Bigot and the Chevalier de la Darante into another room, I asked the + Governor; and that very moment, at my wish, he had his secretary write the + order, which he countersigned and handed me, with a gift of gold for the + prisoners. As he left my mother and myself, Monsieur Doltaire came back + with Bigot, and, approaching the Governor, they led him away, engaging at + once in serious talk. One thing I noticed: as monsieur and Bigot came up, + I could see monsieur eying the Intendant askance, as though he would read + treachery; for I feel sure that it was Bigot who contrived to have + monsieur shut up in the chest-room. I can not quite guess the reason, + unless it be true what gossips say, that Bigot is jealous of the notice + Madame Cournal has given Doltaire, who visits much at her house. + </p> + <p> + “Well, they asked me to sing, and so I did; and can you guess what it was? + Even the voyageurs’ song,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Brothers, we go to the Scarlet Hills, + (Little gold sun, come out of the dawn!)’ +</pre> + <p> + I know not how I sang it, for my heart, my thoughts, were far away in a + whirl of clouds and mist, as you may see a flock of wild ducks in the haze + upon a river, flying they know not whither, save that they follow the + sound of the stream. I was just ending the song when Monsieur Doltaire + leaned over me, and said in my ear, ‘To-morrow I shall invite Captain + Moray from the scaffold to my breakfast-table—or, better still, + invite myself to his own.’ His hand caught mine, as I gave a little cry; + for when I felt sure of your reprieve, I could not, Robert, I could not + keep it back. He thought I was startled at his hand-pressure, and did not + guess the real cause. + </p> + <p> + “‘I have met one challenge, and I shall meet the other,’ he said quickly. + ‘It is not so much a matter of power, either; it is that engine + opportunity. You and I should go far in this wicked world,’ he added. ‘We + think together, we see through ladders. I admire you, mademoiselle. Some + men will say they love you; and they should, or they have no taste; and + the more they love you, the better pleased am I—if you are best + pleased with me. But it is possible for men to love and not to admire. It + is a foolish thing to say that reverence must go with love. I know men who + have lost their heads and their souls for women whom they knew infamous. + But when one admires where one loves, then in the ebb and flow of passion + the heart is safe, for admiration holds when the sense is cold.’ + </p> + <p> + “You know well, Robert, how clever he is; how, listening to him, you must + admit his talent and his power. But oh, believe that, though I am full of + wonder at his cleverness, I can not bear him very near me.” + </p> + <p> + She paused. I looked most gravely at her, as well one might who saw so + sweet a maid employing her heart thus, and the danger that faced her. She + misread my look a little, maybe, for she said at once: + </p> + <p> + “I must be honest with you, and so I tell you all—all, else the part + I play were not possible to me. To you I can speak plainly, pour out my + soul. Do not fear for me. I see a battle coming between that man and me, + but I shall fight it stoutly, worthily, so that in this, at least, I shall + never have to blush for you that you loved me. Be patient, Robert, and + never doubt me; for that would make me close the doors of my heart, though + I should never cease to aid you, never weary in labor for your well-being. + If these things, and fighting all these wicked men, to make Doltaire help + me to save you, have schooled to action some worse parts of me, there is + yet in me that which shall never be brought low, never be dragged to the + level of Versailles or the Chateau Bigot—never!” + </p> + <p> + She looked at me with such dignity and pride that my eyes filled with + tears, and, not to be stayed, I reached out and took her hands, and would + have clasped her to my breast, but she held back from me. + </p> + <p> + “You believe in me, Robert?” she said most earnestly. “You will never + doubt me? You know that I am true and loyal.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe in God, and you,” I answered reverently, and I took her in my + arms and kissed her. I did not care at all whether or no Gabord saw; but + indeed he did not, as Alixe told me afterwards, for, womanlike, even in + this sweet crisis she had an eye for such details. + </p> + <p> + “What more did he say?” I asked, my heart beating hard in the joy of that + embrace. + </p> + <p> + “No more, or little more, for my mother came that instant and brought me + to talk with the Chevalier de la Darante, who wished to ask me for next + summer to Kamaraska or Isle aux Coudres, where he has manorhouses. Before + I left Monsieur Doltaire, he said, ‘I never made a promise but I wished to + break it. This one shall balance all I’ve broken, for I’ll never unwish + it.’ + </p> + <p> + “My mother heard this, and so I summoned all my will, and said gaily, + ‘Poor broken crockery! You stand a tower among the ruins.’ This pleased + him, and he answered, ‘On the tower base is written, This crockery + outserves all others.’ My mother looked sharply at me, but said nothing, + for she has come to think that I am heartless and cold to men and to the + world, selfish in many things.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Gabord turned round, saying, “‘Tis time to be done. Madame + comes.” + </p> + <p> + “It is my mother,” said Alixe, standing up, and hastily placing her hands + in mine. “I must be gone. Good-bye, good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + There was no chance for further adieu, and I saw her pass out with Gabord; + but she turned at the last, and said in English, for she spoke it fairly + now, “Believe, and remember.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV. ARGAND COURNAL. + </h2> + <p> + The most meagre intelligence came to me from the outer world. I no longer + saw Gabord; he had suddenly been with drawn and a new jailer substituted, + and the sentinels outside my door and beneath the window of my cell + refused all information. For months I had no news whatever of Alixe or of + those affairs nearest my heart. I heard nothing of Doltaire, little of + Bigot, and there was no sign of Voban. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes I could see my new jailer studying me, if my plans were a puzzle + to his brain. At first he used regularly to try the bars of the window, + and search the wall as though he thought my devices might be found there. + </p> + <p> + Scarrat and Flavelle, the guards at my door, set too high a price on their + favours, and they talked seldom, and then with brutal jests and ribaldry, + of matters in the town which were not vital to me. Yet once or twice, from + things they said, I came to know that all was not well between Bigot and + Doltaire on one hand, and Doltaire and the Governor on the other. Doltaire + had set the Governor and the Intendant scheming against him because of his + adherence to the cause of neither, and his power to render the plans of + either of no avail when he chose, as in my case. Vaudreuil’s vanity was + injured, and besides, he counted Doltaire too strong a friend of Bigot. + Bigot, I doubted not, found in Madame Cournal’s liking for Doltaire all + sorts of things of which he never would have dreamed; for there is no such + potent devilry in this world as the jealousy of such a sort of man over a + woman whose vanity and cupidity are the springs of her affections. + Doltaire’s imprisonment in a room of the Intendance was not so mysterious + as suggestive. I foresaw a strife, a complication of intrigues, and + internal enmities which would be (as they were) the ruin of New France. I + saw, in imagination, the English army at the gates of Quebec, and those + who sat in the seats of the mighty, sworn to personal enmities—Vaudreuil + through vanity, Bigot through cupidity, Doltaire by the innate malice of + his nature—sacrificing the country; the scarlet body of British + power moving down upon a dishonoured city, never to take its foot from + that sword of France which fell there on the soil of the New World. + </p> + <p> + But there was another factor in the situation which I have not dwelt on + before. Over a year earlier, when war was being carried into Prussia by + Austria and France, and against England, the ally of Prussia, the French + Minister of War, D’Argenson, had, by the grace of La Pompadour, sent + General the Marquis de Montcalm to Canada, to protect the colony with a + small army. From the first, Montcalm, fiery, impetuous, and honourable, + was at variance with Vaudreuil, who, though honest himself, had never + dared to make open stand against Bigot. When Montcalm came, practically + taking the military command out of the hands of the Governor, Vaudreuil + developed a singular jealous spirit against the General. It began to + express itself about the time I was thrown into the citadel dungeon, and I + knew from what Alixe had told me, and from the gossip of the soldiers, + that there was a more open show of disagreement now. + </p> + <p> + The Governor, seeing how ill it was to be at variance with both Montcalm + and Bigot, presently began to covet a reconciliation with the latter. To + this Bigot was by no means averse, for his own position had danger. His + followers and confederates, Cournal, Marin, Cadet, and Rigaud, were + robbing the King with a daring and effrontery which must ultimately bring + disaster. This he knew, but it was his plan to hold on for a time longer, + and then to retire before the axe fell, with an immense fortune. + Therefore, about the time set for my execution, he began to close with the + overtures of the Governor, and presently the two formed a confederacy + against the Marquis de Montcalm. Into it they tried to draw Doltaire, and + were surprised to find that he stood them off as to anything more than + outward show of friendliness. + </p> + <p> + Truth was, Doltaire, who had no sordid feeling in him, loathed alike the + cupidity of Bigot and the incompetency of the Governor, and respected + Montcalm for his honour, and reproached him for his rashness. From first + to last, he was, without show of it, the best friend Montcalm had in the + province; and though he held aloof from bringing punishment to Bigot, he + despised him and his friends, and was not slow to make that plain. + D’Argenson made inquiry of Doltaire when Montcalm’s honest criticisms were + sent to France in cipher, and Doltaire returned the reply that Bigot was + the only man who could serve Canada efficiently in this crisis; that he + had abounding fertility of resource, a clear head, a strong will, and + great administrative faculty. This was all he would say, save that when + the war was over other matters might be conned. Meanwhile France must pay + liberally for the Intendant’s services. + </p> + <p> + Through a friend in France, Bigot came to know that his affairs were + moving to a crisis, and saw that it would be wise to retire; but he loved + the very air of crisis, and Madame Cournal, anxious to keep him in Canada, + encouraged him in his natural feeling to stand or fall with the colony. He + never showed aught but a hold and confident face to the public, and was in + all regards the most conspicuous figure in New France. When, two years + before, Montcalm took Oswego from the English, Bigot threw open his palace + to the populace for two days’ feasting, and every night during the war he + entertained lavishly, though the people went hungry, and their own corn, + bought for the King, was sold back to them at famine prices. + </p> + <p> + As the Governor amid the Intendant grew together in friendship, Vaudreuil + sinking past disapproval in present selfish necessity, they quietly + combined against Doltaire as against Montcalm. Yet at this very time + Doltaire was living in the Intendance, and, as he had told Alixe, not + without some personal danger. He had before been offered rooms at the + Chateau St. Louis; but these he would not take, for he could not bear to + be within touch of the Governor’s vanity and timidity. He would of + preference have stayed in the Intendance had he known that pitfalls and + traps were at every footstep. Danger gave a piquancy to his existence. I + think he did not greatly value Madame Cournal’s admiration of himself; but + when it drove Bigot to retaliation, his imagination got an impulse, and he + entered upon a conflict which ran parallel with the war, and with that + delicate antagonism which Alixe waged against him, long undiscovered by + himself. + </p> + <p> + At my wits’ end for news, at last I begged my jailer to convey a message + for me to the Governor, asking that the barber be let come to me. The next + day an answer arrived in the person of Voban himself, accompanied by the + jailer. For a time there was little speech between us, but as he tended me + we talked. We could do so with safety, for Voban knew English; and though + he spoke it brokenly, he had freedom in it, and the jailer knew no word of + it. At first the fellow blustered, but I waved him off. He was a man of + better education than Gabord, but of inferior judgment and shrewdness. He + made no trial thereafter to interrupt our talk, but sat and drummed upon a + stool with his keys, or loitered at the window, or now and again thrust + his hand into my pockets, as if to see if weapons were concealed in them. + </p> + <p> + “Voban,” said I, “what has happened since I saw you at the Intendance? + Tell me first of mademoiselle. You have nothing from her for me?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” he answered. “There is no time. A soldier come an hour ago with + an order from the Governor, and I must go all at once. So I come as you + see. But as for the ma’m’selle, she is well. Voila, there is no one like + her in New France. I do not know all, as you can guess, but they say she + can do what she will at the Chateau. It is a wonder to see her drive. A + month ago, a droll thing come to pass. She is driving on the ice with + ma’m’selle Lotbiniere and her brother Charles. M’sieu’ Charles, he has the + reins. Soon, ver’ quick, the horses start with all their might. M’sieu’ + saw and pull, but they go the faster. Like that for a mile or so; then + ma’m’selle remember there is a great crack in the ice a mile farther on, + and beyond the ice is weak and rotten, for there the curren’ is ver’ + strongest. She see that M’sieu’ Charles, he can do nothing, so she reach + and take the reins. The horses go on; it make no diff’rence at first. But + she begin to talk to them so sof’, and to pull ver’ steady, and at last + she get them shaping to the shore. She have the reins wound on her hands, + and people on the shore, they watch. Little on little the horses pull up, + and stop at last not a hunder’ feet from the great crack and the rotten + ice. Then she turn them round and drive them home. + </p> + <p> + “You should hear the people cheer as she drive up Mountain Street. The + bishop stand at the window of his palace and smile at her as she pass, and + m’sieu’”—he looked at the jailer and paused—“m’sieu’ the + gentleman we do not love, he stand in the street with his cap off for two + minutes as she come, and after she go by, and say a grand compliment to + her, so that her face go pale. He get froze ears for his pains—that + was a cold day. Well, at night there was a grand dinner at the Intendance, + and afterwards a ball in the splendid room which that man” (he meant + Bigot: I shall use names when quoting him further, that he may be better + understood) “built for the poor people of the land for to dance down their + sorrows. So you can guess I would be there—happy. Ah yes, so happy! + I go and stand in the great gallery above the hall of dance, with crowd of + people, and look down at the grand folk. + </p> + <p> + “One man come to me and say, ‘Ah, Voban, is it you here? Who would think + it!’—like that. Another, he come and say, ‘Voban, he can not keep + away from the Intendance. Who does he come to look for? But no, SHE is not + here—no.’ And again, another, ‘Why should not Voban be here? One man + has not enough bread to eat, and Bigot steals his corn. Another hungers + for a wife to sit by his fire, and Bigot takes the maid, and Voban stuffs + his mouth with humble pie like the rest. Chut! shall not Bigot have his + fill?’ And yet another, and voila, she was a woman, she say, ‘Look at the + Intendant down there with madame. And M’sieu’ Cournal, he also is there. + What does M’sieu’ Cournal care? No, not at all. The rich man, what he + care, if he has gold? Virtue! ha, ha! what is that in your wife if you + have gold for it? Nothing. See his hand at the Intendant’s arm. See how + M’sieu’ Doltaire look at them, and then up here at us. What is it in his + mind, you think? Eh? You think he say to himself, A wife all to himself is + the poor man’s one luxury? Eh? Ah, M’sieu’ Doltaire, you are right, you + are right. You catch up my child from its basket in the market-place one + day, and you shake it ver’ soft, an’ you say, “Madame, I will stake the + last year of my life that I can put my finger on the father of this + child.” And when I laugh in his face, he say again, “And if he thought he + wasn’t its father, he would cut out the liver of the other—eh?” And + I laugh, and say, “My Jacques would follow him to hell to do it.” Then he + say, Voban, he say to me, “That is the difference between you and us. We + only kill men who meddle with our mistresses!” Ah, that M’sieu’ Doltaire, + he put a louis in the hand of my babe, and he not even kiss me on the + cheek. Pshaw! Jacques would sell him fifty kisses for fifty louis. But + sell me, or a child of me? Well, Voban, you can guess! Pah, barber, if you + do not care what he did to the poor Mathilde, there are other maids in St. + Roch.’” + </p> + <p> + Voban paused a moment then added quietly, “How do you think I bear it all? + With a smile? No, I hear with my ears open and my heart close tight. Do + they think they can teach me? Do they guess I sit down and hear all + without a cry from my throat or a will in my body? Ah, m’sieu’ le + Capitaine, it is you who know. You saw what I would have go to do with + M’sieu’ Doltaire before the day of the Great Birth. You saw if I am coward—if + I not take the sword when it was at my throat without a whine. No, + m’sieu’, I can wait. Then is a time for everything. At first I am all in a + muddle, I not how what to do; but by-and-bye it all come to me, and you + shall one day what I wait for. Yes, you shall see. I look down on that + people dancing there, quiet and still, and I hear some laugh at me, and + now and then some one say a good word to me that make me shut my hands + tight, so the tears not come to my eyes. But I felt alone—so much + alone. The world does not want a sad man. In my shop I try to laugh as of + old, and I am not sour or heavy, but I can see men do not say droll things + to me as once back time. No, I am not as I was. What am I to do? There is + but one way. What is great to one man is not to another. What kills the + one does not kill the other. Take away from some people one thing, and + they will not care; from others that same, and there is nothing to live + for, except just to live, and because a man does not like death.” + </p> + <p> + He paused. “You are right, Voban,” said I. “Go on.” + </p> + <p> + He was silent again for a time, and then he moved his hand in a helpless + sort of way across his forehead. It had become deeply lined and wrinkled + all in a couple of years. His temples were sunken, his cheeks hollow, and + his face was full of those shadows which lend a sort of tragedy to even + the humblest and least distinguished countenance. His eyes had a + restlessness, anon an intense steadiness almost uncanny, and his thin, + long fingers had a stealthiness of motion, a soft swiftness, which struck + me strangely. I never saw a man so changed. He was like a vessel wrested + from its moorings; like some craft, filled with explosives, set loose + along a shore lined with fishing-smacks, which might come foul of one, and + blow the company of men and boats into the air. As he stood there, his + face half turned to me for a moment, this came to my mind, and I said to + him, “Voban, you look like some wicked gun which would blow us all to + pieces.” + </p> + <p> + He wheeled, and came to me so swiftly that I shrank back in my chair with + alarm, his action was so sudden, and, peering into my face, he said, + glancing, as I thought, anxiously at the jailer, “Blow—blow—how + blow us all to pieces, m’sieu’?” He eyed me with suspicion, and I could + see that he felt like some hurt animal among its captors, ready to fight, + yet not knowing from what point danger would come. Something pregnant in + what I said had struck home, yet I could not guess then what it was, + though afterwards it came to me with great force and vividness. + </p> + <p> + “I meant nothing, Voban,” answered I, “save that you look dangerous.” + </p> + <p> + I half put out my hand to touch his arm in a friendly way, but I saw that + the jailer was watching, and I did not. Voban felt what I was about to do, + and his face instantly softened, and his blood-shot eyes gave me a look of + gratitude. Then he said: + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you what happen next I know the palace very well, and when I + see the Intendant and M’sieu’ Doltaire and others leave the ballroom I + knew that they go to the chamber which they call ‘la Chambre de la Joie,’ + to play at cards. So I steal away out of the crowd into a passage which, + as it seem, go nowhere, and come quick, all at once, to a bare wall. But I + know the way. In one corner of the passage I press a spring, and a little + panel open. I crawl through and close it behin’. Then I feel my way along + the dark corner till I come to another panel. This I open, and I see + light. You ask how I can do this? Well, I tell you. There is the valet of + Bigot, he is my friend. You not guess who it is? No? It is a man whose + crime in France I know. He was afraid when he saw me here, but I say to + him, ‘No, I will not speak—never’; and he is all my friend just when + I most need. Eh, voila, I see light, as I said, and I push aside heavy + curtains ver’ little, and there is the Chamber of the Joy below. There + they all are, the Intendant and the rest, sitting down to the tables. + There was Capitaine Lancy, M’sieu’ Cadet, M’sieu’ Cournal, M’sieu’ le + Chevalier de Levis, and M’sieu’ le Generale, le Marquis de Montcalm. I am + astonish to see him there, the great General, in his grand coat of blue + and gold and red, and laces tres beau at his throat, with a fine jewel. + Ah, he is not ver’ high on his feet, but he has an eye all fire, and a + laugh come quick to his lips, and he speak ver’ galant, but he never let + them, Messieurs Cadet, Marin, Lancy, and the rest, be thick friends with + him. They do not clap their hands on his shoulder comme le bon camarade—non! + </p> + <p> + “Well, they sit down to play, and soon there is much noise and laughing, + and then sometimes a silence, and then again the noise, and you can see + one snuff a candle with the points of two rapiers, or hear a sword jangle + at a chair, or listen to some one sing ver’ soft a song as he hold a good + hand of cards, or the ring of louis on the table, or the sound of glass as + it break on the floor. And once a young gentleman—alas! he is so + young—he get up from his chair, and cry out, ‘All is lost! I go to + die!’ He raise a pistol to his head; but M’sieu’ Doltaire catch his hand, + and say quite soft and gentle, ‘No, no, mon enfant, enough of making fun + of us. Here is the hunder’ louis I borrow of you yesterday. Take your + revenge.’ The lad sit down slow, looking ver’ strange at M’sieu’ Doltaire. + And it is true: he took his revenge out of M’sieu’ Cadet, for he win—I + saw it—three hunder’ louis. Then M’sieu’ Doltaire lean over to him + and say, ‘M’sieu’, you will carry for me a message to the citadel for + M’sieu’ Ramesay, the commandant.’ Ah, it was a sight to see M’sieu’ + Cadet’s face, going this way and that. But it was no use: the young + gentleman pocket his louis, and go away with a letter from M’sieu’ + Doltaire. But M’sieu’ Doltaire, he laugh in the face of M’sieu’ Cadet, and + say ver’ pleasant, ‘That is a servant of the King, m’sieu’, who live by + his sword alone. Why should civilians be so greedy? Come, play, M’sieu’ + Cadet. If M’sieu’ the General will play with me, we two will what we can + do with you and his Excellency the Intendant.’ + </p> + <p> + “They sit just beneath me, and I hear all what is said, I see all the + looks of them, every card that is played. M’sieu’ the General have not + play yet, but watch M’sieu’ Doltaire and the Intendant at the cards. With + a smile he now sit down. Then M’sieu’ Doltaire, he say, ‘M’sieu’ Cadet, + let us have no mistake—let us be commercial.’ He take out his watch. + ‘I have two hours to spare; are you dispose to play for that time only? To + the moment we will rise, and there shall be no question of satisfaction, + no discontent anywhere—eh, shall it be so, if m’sieu’ the General + can spare the time also?’ It is agree that the General play for one hour + and go, and that M’sieu’ Doltaire and the Intendant play for the rest of + the time. + </p> + <p> + “They begin, and I hide there and watch. The time go ver’ fast, and my + breath catch in my throat to see how great the stakes they play for. I + hear M’sieu’ Doltaire say at last, with a smile, taking out his watch, + ‘M’sieu’ the General, your time is up, and you take with you twenty + thousan’ francs.’ + </p> + <p> + “The General, he smile and wave his hand, as if sorry to take so much from + M’sieu’ Cadet and the Intendant. M’sieu’ Cadet sit dark, and speak nothing + at first, but at last he get up and turn on his heel and walk away, + leaving what he lose on the table. M’sieu’ the General bow also, and go + from the room. Then M’sieu’ Doltaire and the Intendant play. One by one + the other players stop, and come and watch these. Something get into the + two gentlemen, for both are pale, and the face of the Intendant all of + spots, and his little round eyes like specks of red fire; but M’sieu’ + Doltaire’s face, it is still, and his brows bend over, and now and then he + make a little laughing out of his lips. All at once I hear him say, + ‘Double the stakes, your Excellency!’ The Intendant look up sharp and say, + ‘What! Two hunder’ thousan’ francs!’—as if M’sieu’ Doltaire could + not pay such a like that. M’sieu’ Doltaire smile ver’ wicked, and answer, + ‘Make it three hunder’ thousan’ francs, your Excellency.’ It is so still + in the Chamber of the Joy that all you hear for a minute was the fat + Monsieur Varin breathe like a hog, and the rattle of a spur as some one + slide a foot on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “The Intendant look blank; then he nod his head for answer, and each write + on a piece of paper. As they begin, M’sieu’ Doltaire take out his watch + and lay it on the table, and the Intendant do the same, and they both look + at the time. The watch of the Intendant is all jewels. ‘Will you not add + the watches to the stake?’ say M’sieu’ Doltaire. The Intendant look, and + shrug a shoulder, and shake his head for no, and M’sieu’ Doltaire smile in + a sly way, so that the Intendant’s teeth show at his lips and his eyes + almost close, he is so angry. + </p> + <p> + “Just this minute I hear a low noise behind me, and then some one give a + little cry. I turn quick and Madame Cournal. She stretch her hand, and + touch my lips, and motion me not to stir. I look down again, and I see + that M’sieu’ Doltaire look up to the where I am, for he hear that sound, I + think—I not know sure. But he say once more, ‘The watch, the watch, + your Excellency! I have a fancy for yours!’ I feel madame breathe hard + beside me, but I not like to look at her. I am not afraid of men, but a + woman that way—ah, it make me shiver! She will betray me, I think. + All at once I feel her hand at my belt, then at my pocket, to see if I + have a weapon; for the thought come to her that I am there to kill Bigot. + But I raise my hands and say, ‘No,’ ver’ quiet, and she nod her head all + right. + </p> + <p> + “The Intendant wave his hand at M’sieu’ Doltaire to say he would not stake + the watch, for I know it is one madame give him; and then they begin to + play. No one stir. The cards go out flip, flip, on the table, and with a + little soft scrape in the hands, and I hear Bigot’s hound much a bone. All + at once M’sieu’ Doltaire throw down his cards, and say, ‘Mine, Bigot! + Three hunder’ thousan’ francs, and the time is up!’ The other get from his + chair, and say, ‘How would you have pay if you had lost, Doltaire?’ And + m’sieu’ answer, ‘From the coffers of the King, like you, Bigot’ His tone + is odd. I feel madame’s breath go hard. Bigot turn round and say to the + others, ‘Will you take your way to the great hall, messieurs, and M’sieu’ + Doltaire and I will follow. We have some private conf’rence.’ They all + turn away, all but M’sieu’ Cournal, and leave the room, whispering. ‘I + will join you soon, Cournal,’ say his Excellency. M’sieu’ Cournal not go, + for he have been drinking, and something stubborn got into him. But the + Intendant order him rough, and he go. I can hear madame gnash her teeth + sof’ beside me. + </p> + <p> + “When the door close, the Intendant turn to M’sieu’ Doltaire and say, + ‘What is the end for which you play?’ M’sieu’ Doltaire make a light motion + of his hand, and answer, ‘For three hunder’ thousan’ francs.’ ‘And to pay, + m’sieu’, how to pay if you have lost?’ M’sieu’ Doltaire lay his hand on + his sword sof’. ‘From the King’s coffers, as I say; he owes me more than + he has paid. But not like you, Bigot. I have earned, this way and that, + all that I might ever get from the King’s coffers—even this three + hunder’ thousan’ francs, ten times told. But you, Bigot—tush! why + should we make bubbles of words?’ The Intendant get white in the face, but + there are spots on it like on a late apple of an old tree. ‘You go too + far, Doltaire,’ he say. ‘You have hint before my officers and my friends + that I make free with the King’s coffers.’ M’sieu’ answer, ‘You should see + no such hints, if your palms were not musty.’ ‘How know you,’ ask the + Intendant, ‘that my hands are musty from the King’s coffers?’ M’sieu’ + arrange his laces, and say light, ‘As easy from the must as I tell how + time passes in your nights by the ticking of this trinket here.’ He raise + his sword and touch the Intendant’s watch on the table. + </p> + <p> + “I never hear such silence as there is for a minute, and then the + Intendant say, ‘You have gone one step too far. The must on my hands, seen + through your eyes, is no matter, but when you must the name of a lady + there is but one end. You understan’, m’sieu’, there is but one end.’ + M’sieu’ laugh. ‘The sword, you mean? Eh? No, no, I will not fight with + you. I am not here to rid the King of so excellent an officer, however + large fee he force for his services.’ ‘And I tell you,’ say the Intendant, + ‘that I will not have you cast a slight upon a lady.’ Madame beside me + start up, and whisper to me, ‘If you betray me, you shall die. If you be + still, I too will say nothing.’ But then a thing happen. Another voice + sound from below, and there, coming from behind a great screen of oak + wood, is M’sieu’ Cournal, his face all red with wine, his hand on his + sword. ‘Bah!’ he say, coming forward—‘bah! I will speak for madame. + I will speak. I have been silent long enough.’ He come between the two, + and, raising his sword, he strike the time-piece and smash it. ‘Ha! ha!’ + he say, wild with drink, ‘I have you both here alone.’ He snap his fingers + under the Intendant’s nose. ‘It is time I protect my wife’s name from you, + and by God, I will do it!’ At that M’sieu’ Doltaire laugh, and Cournal + turn to him, and say, ‘Batard!’ The Intendant have out his sword, and he + roar in a hoarse voice, ‘Dog, you shall die!’ But M’sieu’ Doltaire strike + up his sword, and face the drunken man. ‘No, leave that to me. The King’s + cause goes shipwreck; we can’t change helmsman now. Think—scandal + and your disgrace!’ Then he make a pass at m’sieu’ Cournal, who parry + quick. Another, and he prick his shoulder. Another, and then madame beside + me, as I spring back, throw aside the curtains, and cry out, ‘No, m’sieu’! + no! For shame!’ + </p> + <p> + “I kneel in a corner behind the curtains, and wait and listen. There is + not a sound for a moment; then I hear a laugh from M’sieu’ Cournal, such a + laugh make me sick—loud, and full of what you call not care and the + devil. Madame speak down at them. ‘Ah,’ she say, ‘it is so fine a sport to + drag a woman’s name in the mire!’ Her voice is full of spirit and she look + beautiful—beautiful. I never guess how a woman like that look; so + full of pride, and to speak like you could think knives sing as they + strike steel—sharp and cold. ‘I came to see how gentlemen look at + play, and they end in brawling over a lady!’ + </p> + <p> + “M’sieu’ Doltaire speak to her, and they all put up their swords, and + M’sieu’ Cournal sit down at a table, and he stare and stare up at the + balcony, and make a motion now and then with his hand. M’sieu’ Doltaire + say to her, ‘Madame, you must excuse our entertainment; we did not know we + had an audience so distinguished.’ She reply, ‘As scene-shifter and + prompter, M’sieu’ Doltaire, you have a gift. Your Excellency,’ she say to + the Intendant, ‘I will wait for you at the top of the great staircase, if + you will be so good as to take me to the ballroom.’ The Intendant and + M’sieu’ Doltaire bow, and turn to the door, and M’sieu’ Cournal scowl, and + make as if to follow; but madame speak down at him, ‘M’sieu’—Argand’—like + that! and he turn back, and sit down. I think she forget me, I keep so + still. The others bow and scrape, and leave the room, and the two are + alone—alone, for what am I? What if a dog hear great people speak? + No, it is no matter! + </p> + <p> + “There is all still for a little while, and I watch her face as she lean + over the rail and look down at him; it is like stone, like stone that + aches, and her eyes stare and stare at him. He look up at her and scowl; + then he laugh, with a toss of the finger, and sit down. All at once he put + his hand on his sword, and gnash his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “Then she speak down to him, her voice ver’ quiet. ‘Argand,’ she say, ‘you + are more a man drunk than sober. Argand,’ she go on, ‘years ago, they said + you were a brave man; you fight well, you do good work for the King, your + name goes with a sweet sound to Versailles. You had only your sword and my + poor fortune and me then—that is all; but you were a man. You had + ambition, so had I. What can a woman do? You had your sword, your country, + the King’s service. I had beauty; I wanted power—ah yes, power, that + was the thing! But I was young and a fool; you were older. You talked fine + things then, but you had a base heart, so much baser than mine.... I might + have been a good woman. I was a fool, and weak, and vain, but you were + base—so base—coward and betrayer, you!’ + </p> + <p> + “At that m’sieu’ start up and snatch at his sword, and speak out between + his teeth, ‘By God, I will kill you to-night!’ She smile cold and hard, + and say, ‘No, no, you will not; it is too late for killing; that should + have been done before. You sold your right to kill long ago, Argand + Cournal. You have been close friends with the man who gave me power, and + you gold.’ Then she get fierce. ‘Who gave you gold before he gave me + power, traitor?’ Like that she speak. ‘Do you never think of what you have + lost?’ Then she break out in a laugh. ‘Pah! Listen: if there must be + killing, why not be the great Roman—drunk!’ + </p> + <p> + “Then she laugh so hard a laugh, and turn away, and go quick by me and not + see me. She step into the dark, and he sit down in the chair, and look + straight in front of him. I do not stir, and after a minute she come back + sof’, and peep down, her face all differen’. ‘Argand! Argand!’ she say + ver’ tender and low, ‘if—if—if’—like that. But just then + he see the broken watch on the floor, and he stoop, with a laugh, and pick + up the pieces; then he get a candle and look on the floor everywhere for + the jewels, and he pick them up, and put them away one by one in his purse + like a miser. He keep on looking, and once the fire of the candle burn his + beard, and he swear, and she stare and stare at him. He sit down at the + table, and look at the jewels and laugh to himself. Then she draw herself + up, and shake, and put her hands to her eyes, and ‘C’est fini! c’est + fini!’ she whisper, and that is all. + </p> + <p> + “When she is gone, after a little time he change—ah, he change much, + he go to a table and pour out a great bowl of wine, and then another, and + he drink them both, and he begin to walk up and down the floor. He sway + now and then, but he keep on for a long time. Once a servant come, but he + wave him away, and he scowl and talk to himself, and shut the doors and + lock them. Then he walk on and on. At last he sit down, and he face me. In + front of him are candles, and he stare between them, and stare and stare. + I sit and watch, and I feel a pity. I hear him say, ‘Antoinette! + Antoinette! My dear Antoinette! We are lost forever, my Antoinette!’ Then + he take the purse from his pocket, and throw it up to the balcony where I + am. ‘Pretty sins,’ he say, ‘follow the sinner!’ It lie there, and it have + sprung open, and I can see the jewels shine, but I not touch it—no. + Well, he sit there long—long, and his face get gray and his cheeks + all hollow. + </p> + <p> + “I hear the clock strike one! two! three! four! Once some one come and try + the door, but go away again, and he never stir; he is like a dead man. At + last I fall asleep. When I wake up, he still sit there, but his head lie + in his arms. I look round. Ah, it is not a fine sight—no. The + candles burn so low, and there is a smell of wick, and the grease runs + here and there down the great candlesticks. Upon the floor, this place and + that, is a card, and pieces of paper, and a scarf, and a broken glass, and + something that shine by a small table. This is a picture in a little gold + frame. On all the tables stand glasses, some full, and some empty of wine. + And just as the dawn come in through the tall windows, a cat crawl out + from somewhere, all ver’ thin and shy, and walk across the floor; it make + the room look so much alone. At last it come and move against m’sieu’s + legs, and he lift his head and look down at it, and nod, and say something + which I not hear. After that he get up, and pull himself together with a + shake, and walk down the room. Then he see the little gold picture on the + floor which some drunk young officer drop, and he pick it up and look at + it, and walk again. ‘Poor fool!’ he say, and look at the picture again. + ‘Poor fool! Will he curse her some day—a child with a face like + that? Ah!’ And he throw the picture down. Then he walk away to the doors, + unlock them, and go out. Soon I steal away through the panels, and out of + the palace ver’ quiet, and go home. But I can see that room in my mind.” + </p> + <p> + Again the jailer hurried Voban; There was no excuse for him to remain + longer; so I gave him a message to Alixe, and slipped into his hand a + transcript from my journal. Then he left me, and I sat and thought upon + the strange events of the evening which he had described to me. That he + was bent on mischief I felt sure, but how it would come, what were his + plans, I could not guess. Then suddenly there flashed into my mind my + words to him, “blow us all to pieces,” and his consternation and strange + eagerness. It came to me suddenly: he meant to blow up the Intendance. + When? And how? It seemed absurd to think of it. Yet—yet—The + grim humour of the thing possessed me, and I sat back and laughed + heartily. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of my mirth the cell door opened and let in Doltaire. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XV. IN THE CHAMBER OF TORTURE + </h2> + <p> + I started from my seat; we bowed, and, stretching out a hand to the fire, + Doltaire said, “Ah, my Captain, we meet too seldom. Let me see: five + months—ah yes, nearly five months. Believe me, I have not + breakfasted so heartily since. You are looking older—older. Solitude + to the active mind is not to be endured alone—no.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Doltaire is the surgeon to my solitude,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “H’m!” he answered, “a jail surgeon merely. And that brings me to a point, + monsieur. I have had letters from France. The Grande Marquise—I may + as well be frank with you—womanlike, yearns violently for those + silly letters which you hold. She would sell our France for them. There is + a chance for you who would serve your country so. Serve it, and yourself—and + me. We have no news yet as to your doom, but be sure it is certain. La + Pompadour knows all, and if you are stubborn, twenty deaths were too few. + I can save you little longer, even were it my will so to do. For myself, + the great lady girds at me for being so poor an agent. You, monsieur”—he + smiled whimsically—“will agree that I have been persistent—and + intelligent.” + </p> + <p> + “So much so,” rejoined I, “as to be intrusive.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled again. “If La Pompadour could hear you, she would understand why + I prefer the live amusing lion to the dead dog. When you are gone, I shall + be inconsolable. I am a born inquisitor.” + </p> + <p> + “You were born for better things than this,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + He took a seat and mused for a moment. “For larger things, you mean,” was + his reply. “Perhaps—perhaps. I have one gift of the strong man—I + am inexorable when I make for my end. As a general, I would pour men into + the maw of death as corn into the hopper, if that would build a bridge to + my end. You call to mind how those Spaniards conquered the Mexique city + which was all canals like Venice? They filled the waterways with shattered + houses and the bodies of their enemies, as they fought their way to + Montezuma’s palace. So I would know not pity if I had a great cause. In + anything vital I would have success at all cost, and to get, destroy as I + went—if I were a great man.” + </p> + <p> + I thought for a moment with horror of his pursuit of my dear Alixe. “I am + your hunter,” had been his words to her, and I knew not what had happened + in all these months. + </p> + <p> + “If you were a great man, you should have the best prerogative of + greatness,” I remarked quietly. + </p> + <p> + “And what is that? Some excellent moral, I doubt not,” was the rejoinder. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + “Tush!” he retorted, “mercy is for the fireside, not for the throne. In + great causes, what is a screw of tyranny here, a bolt of oppression there, + or a few thousand lives!” He suddenly got to his feet, and, looking into + the distance, made a swift motion of his hand, his eyes half closed, his + brows brooding and firm. “I should look beyond the moment, the year, or + the generation. Why fret because the hour of death comes sooner than we + looked for? In the movement of the ponderous car, some honest folk must be + crushed by the wicked wheels. No, no, in large affairs there must be no + thought of the detail of misery, else what should be done in the world! He + who is the strongest shall survive, and he alone. It is all conflict—all. + For when conflict ceases, and those who could and should be great spend + their time chasing butterflies among the fountains, there comes miasma and + their doom. Mercy? Mercy? No, no: for none but the poor and sick and + overridden, in time of peace; in time of war, mercy for none, pity + nowhere, till the joybells ring the great man home.” + </p> + <p> + “But mercy to women always,” said I, “in war or peace.” + </p> + <p> + He withdrew his eyes as if from a distant prospect, and they dropped to + the stove, where I had corn parching. He nodded, as if amused, but did not + answer at once, and taking from my hand the feather with which I stirred + the corn, softly whisked some off for himself, and smiled at the remaining + kernels as they danced upon the hot iron. After a little while he said, + “Women? Women should have all that men can give them. Beautiful things + should adorn them; no man should set his hand in cruelty on a woman—after + she is his. Before—before? Woman is wilful, and sometimes we wring + her heart that we may afterwards comfort it.” + </p> + <p> + “Your views have somewhat changed,” I answered. “I mind when you talked + less sweetly.” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged a shoulder. “That man is lost who keeps one mind concerning + woman. I will trust the chastity of no woman, yet I will trust her virtue—if + I have her heart. They a foolish tribe, and all are vulnerable in their + vanity. They of consequence to man, of no consequence in state matters. + When they meddle there, we have La Pompadour and war with England, and + Captain Moray in the Bastile of New France.” + </p> + <p> + “You come from a court, monsieur, which believes in nothing, not even in + itself.” + </p> + <p> + “I come from a court,” he rejoined, “which has made a gospel of artifice, + of frivolity a creed; buying the toys for folly with the savings of the + poor. His most Christian Majesty has set the fashion of continual + silliness and universal love. He begets children in the peasant’s oven and + in the chamber of Charlemagne alike. And we are all good subjects of the + King. We are brilliant, exquisite, brave, and naughty; and for us there is + no to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor for France,” I suggested. + </p> + <p> + He laughed, as he rolled a kernel of parched corn on his tongue. “Tut, + tut! that is another thing. We the fashion of an hour, but France is a + fact as stubborn as the natures of you English; for beyond stubbornness + and your Shakespeare you have little. Down among the moles, in the + peasants’ huts, the spirit of France never changes—it is always the + same; it is for all time. You English, nor all others, you can not blow + out that candle which is the spirit of France. I remember of the Abbe + Bobon preaching once upon the words, ‘The spirit of man is the candle of + the Lord’; well, the spirit of France is the candle of Europe, and you + English will be its screen against the blowing out, though in spasms of + stupidity you flaunt the extinguisher. You—you have no imagination, + no passion, no temperament, no poetry. Yet I am wrong. The one thing you + have—” + </p> + <p> + He broke off, nodding his head in amusement. “Yes, you have, but it is a + secret. You English are the true lovers, we French the true poets; and I + will tell you why. You are a race of comrades, the French of gentlemen; + you cleave to a thing, we to an idea; you love a woman best when she is + near, we when she is away; you make a romance of marriage, we of intrigue; + you feed upon yourselves, we upon the world; you have fever in your blood, + we in our brains; you believe the world was made in seven days, we have no + God; you would fight for the seven days, we would fight for the danseuse + on a bonbon box. The world will say ‘fie!’ at us and love us; it will + respect you and hate you. That is the law and the gospel,” he added, + smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Perfect respect casteth out love” said I ironically. + </p> + <p> + He waved his fingers in approval. “By the Lord, but you are pungent now + and then!” he answered; “cabined here you are less material. By the time + you are chastened unto heaven you will be too companionable to lose.” + </p> + <p> + “When is that hour of completed chastening?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Never,” he said, “if you will oblige me with those letters.” + </p> + <p> + “For a man of genius you discern but slowly,” retorted I. + </p> + <p> + “Discern your amazing stubbornness?” he asked. “Why should you play at + martyr, when your talent is commercial? You have no gifts for martyrdom + but wooden tenacity. Pshaw! the leech has that. You mistake your calling.” + </p> + <p> + “And you yours,” I answered. “This is a poor game you play, and losing it + you lose all. La Pompadour will pay according to the goods you bring.” + </p> + <p> + He answered with an amusing candour: “Why, yes, you are partly in the + right. But when La Pompadour and I come to our final reckoning, when it is + a question who can topple ruins round the King quickest, his mistress or + his ‘cousin,’ there will be tales to tell.” + </p> + <p> + He got up, and walked to and fro in the cell, musing, and his face grew + dark and darker. “Your Monmouth was a fool,” he said. “He struck from the + boundaries; the blow should fall in the very chambers of the King.” He put + a finger musingly upon his lip. “I see—I see how it could be done. + Full of danger, but brilliant, brilliant and bold! Yes, yes...yes!” Then + all at once he seemed to come out of a dream, and laughed ironically. + “There it is,” he said; “there is my case. I have the idea, but I will not + strike; it is not worth the doing unless I am driven to it. We are brave + enough, we idlers,” he went on; “we die with an air—all artifice, + artifice!... Yet of late I have had dreams. Now that is not well. It is + foolish to dream, and I had long since ceased to do so. But somehow all + the mad fancies of my youth come back. This dream will go, it will not + last; it is—my fate, my doom,” he added lightly, “or what you will!” + </p> + <p> + I knew, alas, too well where his thoughts were hanging, and I loathed him + anew; for, as he hinted, his was a passion, not a deep abiding love. His + will was not stronger than the general turpitude of his nature. As if he + had divined my thought, he said, “My will is stronger than any passion + that I have; I can never plead weakness in the day of my judgment. I am + deliberate. When I choose evil it is because I love it. I could be an + anchorite; I am, as I said—what you will.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a conscienceless villain, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Who salves not his soul,” he added, with a dry smile, “who will play his + game out as he began; who repents nor ever will repent of anything; who + for him and you some interesting moments yet. Let me make one now,” and he + drew from his pocket a packet. He smiled hatefully as he handed it to me, + and said, “Some books which monsieur once lent Mademoiselle Duvarney—poems, + I believe. Mademoiselle found them yesterday, and desired me to fetch them + to you; and I obliged her. I had the pleasure of glancing through the + books before she rolled them up. She bade me say that monsieur might find + them useful in his captivity. She has a tender heart—even to the + worst of criminals.” + </p> + <p> + I felt a strange churning in my throat, but with composure I took the + books, and said, “Mademoiselle Duvarney chooses distinguished messengers.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a distinction to aid her in her charities,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + I could not at all conceive what was meant. The packet hung in my hands + like lead. There was a mystery I could not solve. I would not for an + instant think what he meant to convey by a look—that her choice of + him to carry back my gift to her was a final repulse of past advances I + had made to her, a corrective to my romantic memories. I would not believe + that, not for one fleeting second. Perhaps, I said to myself, it was a + ruse of this scoundrel. But again, I put that from me, for I did not think + he would stoop to little meannesses, no matter how vile he was in great + things. I assumed indifference to the matter, laying the packet down upon + my couch, and saying to him, “You will convey my thanks to Mademoiselle + Duvarney for these books, whose chief value lies in the honourable housing + they have had.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled provokingly; no doubt he was thinking that my studied compliment + smelt of the oil of solitude. “And add—shall I—your + compliments that they should have their airing at the hands of Monsieur + Doltaire?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall pay those compliments to Monsieur Doltaire himself one day,” I + replied. + </p> + <p> + He waved his fingers. “The sentiments of one of the poems were + commendable, fanciful. I remember it”—he put a finger to his lip—“let + me see.” He stepped towards the packet, but I made a sign of interference—how + grateful was I of this afterwards!—and he drew back courteously. “Ah + well,” he said, “I have a fair memory; I can, I think, recall the morsel. + It impressed me. I could not think the author an Englishman. It runs + thus,” and with admirable grace he recited the words: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “O flower of all the world, O flower of all! + The garden where thou dwellest is so fair, + Thou art so goodly and so queenly tall, + Thy sweetness scatters sweetness everywhere, + O flower of all! + + “O flower of all the years, O flower of all! + A day beside thee is a day of days; + Thy voice is softer than the throstle’s call, + There is not song enough to sing thy praise, + O flower of all! + + “O flower of all the years, O flower of all! + I seek thee in thy garden, and I dare + To love thee; and though my deserts be small, + Thou art the only flower I would wear, + O flower of all!” + </pre> + <p> + “Now that,” he said, “is the romantic, almost the Arcadian spirit. We have + lost it, but it lingers like some rare scent in the folds of lace. It is + also but artifice, yet so is the lingering perfume. When it hung in the + flower it was lost after a day’s life, but when gathered and distilled + into an essence it becomes, through artifice, an abiding sweetness. So + with your song there. It is the spirit of devotion, gathered, it may be, + from a thousand flowers, and made into an essence, which is offered to one + only. It is not the worship of this one, but the worship of a thousand + distilled at last to one delicate liturgy. So much for sentiment,” he + continued. “Upon my soul, Captain Moray, you are a boon. I love to have + you caged. I shall watch your distressed career to its close with deep + scrutiny. You and I are wholly different, but you are interesting. You + never could be great. Pardon the egotism, but it is truth. Your brain + works heavily, you are too tenacious of your conscience, you are a + blunderer. You will always sow, and others will reap.” + </p> + <p> + I waved my hand in deprecation, for I was in no mood for further talk, and + I made no answer. He smiled at me, and said, “Well, since you doubt my + theories, let us come, as your Shakespeare says, to Hecuba.... If you will + come with me,” he added, as he opened my cell door, and motioned me + courteously to go outside. I drew back, and he said, “There is no need to + hesitate; I go to show you merely what will interest you.” + </p> + <p> + We passed in silence through the corridors, two sentinels attending, and + at last came into a large square room, wherein stood three men with hands + tied over their heads against the wall, their faces twitching with pain. I + drew back in astonishment, for there, standing before them, were Gabord + and another soldier. Doltaire ordered from the room the soldier with + Gabord, and my two sentinels, and motioned me to one of two chairs set in + the middle of the floor. + </p> + <p> + Presently his face became hard and cruel, and he said to the tortured + prisoners, “You will need to speak the truth, and promptly. I have an + order to do with you what I will, and I will do it without pause. Hear me. + Three nights ago, as Mademoiselle Duvarney was returning from the house of + a friend living near the Intendance, she was set upon by you. A cloak was + thrown over her head, she was carried to a carriage, where two of you got + inside with her. Some gentlemen and myself were coming that way. We heard + the lady’s cries, and two gave chase to the carriage, while one followed + the others. By the help of soldier Gabord here you all were captured. You + have hung where you are for two days, and now I shall have you whipped. + When that is done, you shall tell your story. If you do not speak truth, + you shall be whipped again, and then hung. Ladies shall have safety from + rogues like you.” + </p> + <p> + Alixe’s danger told in these concise words made me, I am sure, turn pale; + but Doltaire did not see it, he was engaged with the prisoners. As I + thought and wondered, four soldiers were brought in, and the men were made + ready for the lash. In vain they pleaded they would tell their story at + once. Doltaire would not listen; the whipping first, and their story + after. Soon their backs were bared, their faces were turned to the wall, + and, as Gabord with harsh voice counted, the lashes were mercilessly laid + on. There was a horrible fascination in watching the skin corrugate under + the lashes, rippling away in red and purple blotches, the grooves in the + flesh crossing and recrossing, the raw misery spreading from the hips to + the shoulders. Now and again Doltaire drew out a box and took a pinch of + snuff, and once, coolly and curiously, he walked up to the most stalwart + prisoner and felt his pulse, then to the weakest, whose limbs and body had + stiffened as though dead. “Ninety-seven! Ninety-eight! Ninety-nine!” + growled Gabord, and then came Doltaire’s voice: + </p> + <p> + “Stop! Now fetch some brandy.” + </p> + <p> + The prisoners were loosened, and Doltaire spoke sharply to a soldier who + was roughly pulling one man’s shirt over the excoriated back. Brandy was + given by Gabord, and the prisoners stood, a most pitiful sight, the + weakest livid. + </p> + <p> + “Now tell your story,” said Doltaire to this last. + </p> + <p> + The man, with broken voice and breath catching, said that they had erred. + They had been hired to kidnap Madame Cournal, not Mademoiselle Duvarney. + </p> + <p> + Doltaire’s eyes flashed. “I see, I see,” he said aside to me. “The wretch + speaks truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was your master?” he asked of the sturdiest of the villains; and he + was told that Monsieur Cournal had engaged them. To the question what was + to be done with Madame Cournal, another answered that she was to be + waylaid as she was coming from the Intendance, kidnapped, and hurried to a + nunnery to be imprisoned for life. + </p> + <p> + Doltaire sat for a moment, looking at the men in silence. “You are not to + hang,” he said at last; “but ten days hence, when you have had one hundred + lashes more, you shall go free. Fifty for you,” he continued to the + weakest who had first told the story. + </p> + <p> + “Not fifty nor one!” was the shrill reply, and, being unbound, the + prisoner snatched something from a bench near; there was a flash of steel, + and he came huddling in a heap on the floor, muttering a malediction on + the world. + </p> + <p> + “There was some bravery in that,” said Doltaire, looking at the dead man. + “If he has friends, hand over the body to them. This matter must not be + spoken of—at your peril,” he added sternly. “Give them food and + brandy.” + </p> + <p> + Then he accompanied me to my cell, and opened the door. I passed in, and + he was about going without a word, when on a sudden his old nonchalance + came back, and he said: + </p> + <p> + “I promised you a matter of interest. You have had it. Gather philosophy + from this: you may with impunity buy anything from a knave and fool except + his nuptial bed. He throws the money in your face some day.” + </p> + <p> + So saying he plunged in thought again, and left me. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVI. BE SAINT OR IMP + </h2> + <p> + Immediately I opened the packet. As Doltaire had said, the two books of + poems I had lent Alixe were there, and between the pages of one lay a + letter addressed to me. It was, indeed, a daring thing to make Doltaire + her messenger. But she trusted to his habits of courtesy; he had no small + meannesses—he was no spy or thief. + </p> + <p> + DEAR ROBERT (the letter ran): I know not if this will ever reach you, for + I am about to try a perilous thing, even to make Monsieur Doltaire my + letter-carrier. Bold as it is, I hope to bring it through safely. + </p> + <p> + You must know that my mother now makes Monsieur Doltaire welcome to our + home, for his great talents and persuasion have so worked upon her that + she believes him not so black as he is painted. My father, too, is not + unmoved by his amazing address and complaisance. I do not think he often + cares to use his arts—he is too indolent; but with my father, my + mother, and my sister he has set in motion all his resources. + </p> + <p> + Robert, all Versailles is here. This Monsieur Doltaire speaks for it. I + know not if all courts in the world are the same, but if so, I am at heart + no courtier; though I love the sparkle, the sharp play of wit and word, + the very touch-and-go of weapons. I am in love with life, and I wish to + live to be old, very old, that I will have known it all, from helplessness + to helplessness again, missing nothing, even though much be sad to feel + and bear. Robert, I should have gone on many years, seeing little, knowing + little, I think, if it had not been for you and for your troubles, which + are mine, and for this love of ours, builded in the midst of sorrows. + Georgette is now as old as when I first came to love you, and you were + thrown into the citadel, and yet in feeling and experience, I am ten years + older than she; and necessity has made me wiser. Ah, if necessity would + but make me happy too, by giving you your liberty, that on these many + miseries endured we might set up a sure home. I wonder if you think—if + you think of that: a little home away from all these wars, aloof from + vexing things. + </p> + <p> + But there! all too plainly I am showing you my heart. Yet it is so great a + comfort to speak on paper to you, in this silence here. Can you guess + where is that HERE, Robert? It is not the Chateau St. Louis—no. It + is not the Manor. It is the chateau, dear Chateau Alixe—my father + has called it that—on the Island of Orleans. Three days ago I was + sick at heart, tired of all the junketings and feastings, and I begged my + mother to fetch me here, though it is yet but early spring, and snow is on + the ground. + </p> + <p> + First, you must know that this new chateau is built upon, and is joined + to, the ruins of an old one, owned long years ago by the Baron of + Beaugard, whose strange history you must learn some day, out of the papers + we have found here. I begged my father not to tear the old portions of the + manor down, but, using the first foundations, put up a house half castle + and half manor. Pictures of the old manor were found, and so we have a + place that is no patchwork, but a renewal. I made my father give me the + old surviving part of the building for my own, and so it is. + </p> + <p> + It is all set on high ground abutting on the water almost at the point + where I am, and I have the river in my sight all day. Now, think yourself + in the new building. You come out of a dining-hall, hung all about with + horns and weapons and shields and such bravery, go through a dark, narrow + passage, and then down a step or two. You open a door, bright light breaks + on your eyes, then two steps lower, and you are here with me. You might + have gone outside the dining-hall upon a stone terrace, and so have come + along to the deep window where I sit so often. You may think of me hiding + in the curtains, watching you, though you knew it not till you touched the + window and I came out quietly, startling you, so that your heart would + beat beyond counting. + </p> + <p> + As I look up towards the window, the thing first in sight is the cage, + with the little bird which came to me in the cathedral the morning my + brother got lease of life again: you DO remember—is it not so? It + never goes from my room, and though I have come here but for a week I + muffled the cage well and brought it over; and there the bird swings and + sings the long day through. I have heaped the window-seats with soft furs, + and one of these I prize most rarely. It was a gift—and whose, think + you? Even a poor soldier’s. You see I have not all friends among the great + folk. I often lie upon that soft robe of sable—ay, sable, Master + Robert—and think of him who gave it to me. Now I know you are + jealous, and I can see your eyes flash up. But you shall at once be + soothed. It is no other than Gabord’s gift. He is now of the Governor’s + body-guard, and I think is by no means happy, and would prefer service + with the Marquis de Montcalm, who goes not comfortably with the Intendant + and the Governor. + </p> + <p> + One day Gabord came to our house on the ramparts, and, asking for me, + blundered out, “Aho, what shall a soldier do with sables? They are for + gentles and for wrens to snuggle in. Here comes a Russian count oversea, + and goes mad in tavern. Here comes Gabord, and saves count from ruddy + crest for kissing the wrong wench. Then count falls on Gabord’s neck, and + kisses both his ears, and gives him sables, and crosses oversea again; and + so good-bye to count and his foolery. And sables shall be ma’m’selle’s, if + she will have them.” He might have sold the thing for many louis, and yet + he brought it to me; and he would not go till he had seen me sitting on + it, muffling my hands and face in the soft fur. + </p> + <p> + Just now, as I am writing, I glance at the table where I sit—a small + brown table of oak, carved with the name of Felise, Baroness of Beaugard. + She sat here; and some day, when you hear her story, you will know why I + begged Madame Lotbiniere to give it to me in exchange for another, once + the King’s. Carved, too, beneath her name, are the words, “Oh, tarry thou + the Lord’s leisure.” + </p> + <p> + And now you shall laugh with me at a droll thing Georgette has given me to + wipe my pen upon. There are three little circles of deerskin and one of + ruby velvet, stitched together in the centre. Then, standing on the velvet + is a yellow wooden chick, with little eyes of beads, and a little wooden + bill stuck in most quaintly, and a head that twists like a weathercock. It + has such a piquant silliness of look that I laugh at it most heartily, and + I have an almost elfish fun in smearing its downy feathers. I am sure you + did not think I could be amused so easily. You shall see this silly chick + one day, humorously ugly and all daubed with ink. + </p> + <p> + There is a low couch in one corner of the room, and just above hangs a + picture of my mother. In another corner is a little shelf of books, among + them two which I have studied constantly since you were put in prison—your + great Shakespeare, and the writings of one Mr. Addison. I had few means of + studying at first, so difficult it seemed, and all the words sounded hard; + but there is your countryman, one Lieutenant Stevens of Rogers’ Rangers, a + prisoner, and he has helped me, and is ready to help you when the time + comes for stirring. I teach him French; and though I do not talk of you, + he tells me in what esteem you are held in Virginia and in England, and is + not slow to praise you on his own account, which makes me more forgiving + when he would come to sentiment! + </p> + <p> + In another corner is my spinning-wheel, and there stands a harpsichord, + just where the soft sun sends in a ribbon of light; and I will presently + play for you a pretty song. I wonder if you can hear it? Where I shall sit + at the harpsichord the belt of sunlight will fall across my shoulder, and, + looking through the window, I shall see your prison there on the Heights; + the silver flag with its gold lilies on the Chateau St. Louis; the great + guns of the citadel; and far off at Beauport the Manor House and garden + which you and I know so well, and the Falls of Montmorenci, falling like + white flowing hair from the tall cliff. + </p> + <p> + You will care to know of how these months have been spent, and what news + of note there is of the fighting between our countries. No matters of + great consequence have come to our ears, save that it is thought your navy + may descend on Louisburg; that Ticonderoga is also to be set upon, and + Quebec to be besieged in the coming summer. From France the news is + various. Now, Frederick of Prussia and England defeat the allies, France, + Russia, and Austria; now, they, as Monsieur Doltaire says, “send the great + Prussian to verses and the megrims.” For my own part, I am ever glad to + hear that our cause is victorious, and letters that my brother writes me + rouse all my ardour for my country. Juste has grown in place and favour, + and in his latest letter he says that Monsieur Doltaire’s voice has got + him much advancement. He also remarks that Monsieur Doltaire has + reputation for being one of the most reckless, clever, and cynical men in + France. Things that he has said are quoted at ball and rout. Yet the King + is angry with him, and La Pompadour’s caprice may send him again to the + Bastile. These things Juste heard from D’Argenson, Minister of War, + through his secretary, with whom he is friendly. + </p> + <p> + I will now do what I never thought to do: I will send you here some + extracts from my journal, which will disclose to you the secrets of a + girl’s troubled heart. Some folk might say that I am unmaidenly in this. + But I care not, I fear not. + </p> + <p> + December 24. I was with Robert to-day. I let him see what trials I had had + with Monsieur Doltaire, and what were like to come. It hurt me to tell + him, yet it would have hurt me more to withhold them. I am hurt whichever + way it goes. Monsieur Doltaire rouses the worst parts of me. On the one + hand I detest him for his hatred of Robert and for his evil life, yet on + the other I must needs admire him for his many graces—why are not + the graces of the wicked horrible?—for his singular abilities, and + because, gamester though he may be, he is no public robber. Then, too, the + melancholy of his birth and history claims some sympathy. Sometimes when I + listen to him speak, hear the almost piquant sadness of his words, watch + the spirit of isolation which, by design or otherwise, shows in him, for + the moment I am conscious of a pity or an interest which I flout in wiser + hours. This is his art, the potent danger of his personality. + </p> + <p> + To-night he came, and with many fine phrases wished us a happy day + to-morrow, and most deftly worked upon my mother and Georgette by looking + round and speaking with a quaint sort of raillery—half pensive, it + was—of the peace of this home-life of ours; and indeed, he did it so + inimitably that I was not sure how much was false and how much true. I + tried to avoid him to-day, but my mother as constantly made private speech + between us easy. At last he had his way, and then I was not sorry; for + Georgette was listening to him with more colour than she is wont to wear. + I would rather see her in her grave than with her hand in his, her sweet + life in his power. She is unschooled in the ways of the world, and she + never will know it as I now do. How am I sounding all the depths! Can a + woman walk the dance with evil, and be no worse for it by-and-bye? Yet for + a cause, for a cause! What can I do? I can not say, “Monsieur Doltaire, + you must not speak with me, or talk with me; you are a plague-spot.” No, I + must even follow this path, so it but lead at last to Robert and his + safety. + </p> + <p> + Monsieur, having me alone at last, said to me, “I have kept my word as to + the little boast: this Captain Moray still lives.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not greater than I thought,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He professed to see but one meaning in my words, and answered, “It was + then mere whim to see me do this thing, a lady’s curious mind, eh? My + faith, I think your sex are the true scientists: you try experiment for no + other reason than to see effect.” + </p> + <p> + “You forget my deep interest in Captain Moray,” said I, with airy + boldness. + </p> + <p> + He laughed. He was disarmed. How could he think I meant it! “My + imagination halts,” he rejoined. “Millennium comes when you are + interested. And yet,” he continued, “it is my one ambition to interest + you, and I will do it, or I will say my prayers no more.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “But how can that be done no more, + Which ne’er was done before?” + </pre> + <p> + I retorted, railing at him, for I feared to take him seriously. + </p> + <p> + “There you wrong me,” he said. “I am devout; I am a lover of the + Scriptures—their beauty haunts me; I go to mass—its dignity + affects me; and I have prayed, as in my youth I wrote verses. It is not a + matter of morality, but of temperament. A man may be religious and yet be + evil. Satan fell, but he believed and he admired, as the English Milton + wisely shows it.” + </p> + <p> + I was most glad that my father came between us at that moment; but before + Monsieur left, he said to me, “You have challenged me. Beware: I have + begun this chase. Yet I would rather be your follower, rather have your + arrow in me, than be your hunter.” He said it with a sort of warmth, which + I knew was a glow in his senses merely; he was heated with his own + eloquence. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” returned I. “You have heard the story of King Artus?” + </p> + <p> + He thought a moment. “No, no. I never was a child as other children. I was + always comrade to the imps.” + </p> + <p> + “King Artus,” said I, “was most fond of hunting.” (It is but a legend with + its moral, as you know.) “It was forbidden by the priests to hunt while + mass was being said. One day, at the lifting of the host, the King, + hearing a hound bay, rushed out, and gathered his pack together; but as + they went, a whirlwind caught them up into the air, where they continue to + this day, following a lonely trail, never resting, and all the game they + get is one fly every seventh year. And now, when all on a sudden at night + you hear the trees and leaves and the sleepy birds and crickets stir, it + is the old King hunting—for the fox he never gets.” + </p> + <p> + Monsieur looked at me with curious intentness. “You have a great gift,” he + said; “you make your point by allusion. I follow you. But see: when I am + blown into the air I shall not ride alone. Happiness is the fox we ride to + cover, you and I, though we find but a firefly in the end.” + </p> + <p> + “A poor reply,” I remarked easily; “not worthy of you.” + </p> + <p> + “As worthy as I am of you,” he rejoined; then he kissed my hand. “I will + see you at mass to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Unconsciously, I rubbed the hand he kissed with my handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “I am not to be provoked,” he said. “It is much to have you treat my kiss + with consequence.” + </p> + <p> + March 25. No news of Robert all this month. Gabord has been away in + Montreal. I see Voban only now and then, and he is strange in manner, and + can do nothing. Mathilde is better—so still and desolate, yet not + wild; but her memory is all gone, all save for that “Francois Bigot is a + devil.” My father has taken anew a strong dislike to Monsieur Doltaire, + because of talk that is abroad concerning him and Madame Cournal. I once + thought she was much sinned against, but now I am sure she is not to be + defended. She is most defiant, though people dare not shut their doors + against her. A change seemed to come over her all at once, and over her + husband also. He is now gloomy and taciturn, now foolishly gay, yet he is + little seen with the Intendant, as before. However it be, Monsieur + Doltaire and Bigot are no longer intimate. What should I care for that, if + Monsieur Doltaire had no power, if he were not the door between Robert and + me? What care I, indeed, how vile he is, so he but serve my purpose? Let + him try my heart and soul and senses as he will; I will one day purify + myself of his presence and all this soiling, and find my peace in Robert’s + arms—or in the quiet of a nunnery. + </p> + <p> + This morning I got up at sunrise, it being the Annunciation of the Virgin, + and prepared to go to mass in the chapel of the Ursulines. How peaceful + was the world! So still, so still. The smoke came curling up here and + there through the sweet air of spring, a snowbird tripped along the white + coverlet of the earth, and before a Calvary, I saw a peasant kneel and say + an Ave as he went to market. There was springtime in the sun, in the smell + of the air; springtime everywhere but in my heart, which was all winter. I + seemed alone—alone—alone. I felt the tears start. But that was + for a moment only, I am glad to say, for I got my courage again, as I did + the night before when Monsieur Doltaire placed his arm at my waist, and + poured into my ears a torrent of protestations. + </p> + <p> + I did not move at first. But I could feel my cheeks go to stone, and + something clamp my heart. Yet had ever man such hateful eloquence! There + is that in him—oh, shame! oh, shame!—which goes far with a + woman. He has the music of passion, and though it is lower than love, it + is the poetry of the senses. I spoke to him calmly, I think, begging him + place his merits where they would have better entertainment; but I said + hard, cold things at last, when other means availed not; which presently + made him turn upon me in another fashion. + </p> + <p> + His words dropped slowly, with a consummate carefulness, his manner was + pointedly courteous, yet there was an underpressure of force, of will, + which made me see the danger of my position. He said that I was quite + right; that he would wish no privilege of a woman which was not given with + a frank eagerness; that to him no woman was worth the having who did not + throw her whole nature into the giving. Constancy—that was another + matter. But a perfect gift while there was giving at all—that was + the way. + </p> + <p> + “There is something behind all this,” he said. “I am not so vain as to + think any merits of mine would influence you. But my devotion, my + admiration of you, the very force of my passion, should move you. Be you + ever so set against me—and I do not think you are—you should + not be so strong to resist the shock of feeling. I do not know the cause, + but I will find it out; and when I do, I shall remove it or be myself + removed.” He touched my arm with his fingers. “When I touch you like + that,” he said, “summer riots in my veins. I will not think that this + which rouses me so is but power upon one side, and effect upon the other. + Something in you called me to you, something in me will wake you yet. Mon + Dieu, I could wait a score of years for my touch to thrill you as yours + does me! And I will—I will.” + </p> + <p> + “You think it suits your honour to force my affections?” I asked; for I + dared not say all I wished. + </p> + <p> + “What is there in this reflecting on my honour?” he answered. “At + Versailles, believe me, they would say I strive here for a canonizing. No, + no; think me so gallant that I follow you to serve you, to convince you + that the way I go is the way your hopes will lie. Honour? To fetch you to + the point where you and I should start together on the Appian Way, I would + traffic with that, even, and say I did so, and would do so a thousand + times, if in the end it put your hand in mine. Who, who can give you what + I offer, can offer? See: I have given myself to a hundred women in my time—but + what of me? That which was a candle in a wind, and the light went out. + There was no depth, no life, in that; only the shadow of a man was there + those hundred times. But here, now, the whole man plunges into this sea, + and he will reach the lighthouse on the shore, or be broken on the reefs. + Look in my eyes, and see the furnace there, and tell me if you think that + fire is for cool corners in the gardens at Neuilly or for the Hills of—” + He suddenly broke off, and a singular smile followed. “There, there,” he + said, “I have said enough. It came to me all at once how droll my speech + would sound to our people at Versailles. It is an elaborate irony that the + occasional virtues of certain men turn and mock them. That is the penalty + of being inconsistent. Be saint or imp; it is the only way. But this imp + that mocks me relieves you of reply. Yet I have spoken truth, and again + and again I will tell it you, till you believe according to my gospel.” + </p> + <p> + How glad I was that he himself lightened the situation! I had been driven + to despair, but this strange twist in his mood made all smooth for me. + “That ‘again and again’ sounds dreary,” said I. “It might almost appear I + must sometime accept your gospel, to cure you of preaching it, and save me + from eternal drowsiness.” + </p> + <p> + We were then most fortunately interrupted. He made his adieus, and I went + to my room, brooded till my head ached, then fell a-weeping, and wished + myself out of the world, I was so sick and weary. Now and again a hot + shudder of shame and misery ran through me, as I thought of monsieur’s + words to me. Put them how he would, they sound an insult now, though as he + spoke I felt the power of his passion. “If you had lived a thousand years + ago, you would have loved a thousand times,” he said to me one day. + Sometimes I think he spoke truly; I have a nature that responds to all + eloquence in life. + </p> + <p> + Robert, I have bared my heart to thee. I have hidden nothing. In a few + days I shall go back to the city with my mother, and when I can I will + send news; and do thou send me news also, if thou canst devise a safe way. + Meanwhile, I have written my brother Juste to be magnanimous, and to try + for thy freedom. He will not betray me, and he may help us. I have begged + him to write to thee a letter of reconcilement. + </p> + <p> + And now, comrade of my heart, do thou have courage. I also shall be strong + as I am ardent. Having written thee, I am cheerful once more; and when + again I may, I will open the doors of my heart that thou mayst come in. + That heart is thine, Robert. Thy + </p> + <p> + ALIXE, + </p> + <p> + who loves thee all her days. + </p> + <p> + P.S.—I have found the names and places of the men who keep the guard + beneath thy window. If there is chance for freedom that way, fix the day + some time ahead, and I will see what may be done. Voban fears nothing; he + will act secretly for me. + </p> + <p> + The next day I arranged for my escape, which had been long in planning. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVII. THROUGH THE BARS OF THE CAGE + </h2> + <p> + I should have tried escape earlier but that it was little use to venture + forth in the harsh winter in a hostile country. But now April had come, + and I was keen to make a trial of my fortune. I had been saving food for a + long time, little by little, and hiding it in the old knapsack which had + held my second suit of clothes. I had used the little stove for parching + my food—Indian corn, for which I had professed a fondness to my + jailer, and liberally paid for out of funds which had been sent me by Mr. + George Washington in answer to my letter, and other moneys to a goodly + amount in a letter from Governor Dinwiddie. These letters had been + carefully written, and the Marquis de Vaudreuil, into whose hands they had + first come, was gallant enough not to withhold them—though he read + them first. + </p> + <p> + Besides Indian corn, the parching of which amused me, I had dried ham and + tongue, and bread and cheese, enough, by frugal use, to last me a month at + least. I knew it would be a journey of six weeks or more to the nearest + English settlement, but if I could get that month’s start I should forage + for the rest, or take my fate as I found it: I was used to all the turns + of fortune now. My knapsack gradually filled, and meanwhile I slowly + worked my passage into the open world. There was the chance that my jailer + would explore the knapsack; but after a time I lost that fear, for it lay + untouched with a blanket in a corner, and I cared for my cell with my own + hands. + </p> + <p> + The true point of danger was the window. There lay my way. It was stoutly + barred with iron up and down, and the bars were set in the solid + limestone. Soon after I entered this prison, I saw that I must cut a + groove in the stone from stanchion to stanchion, and then, by drawing one + to the other, make an opening large enough to let my body through. For + tools I had only a miserable knife with which I cut my victuals, and the + smaller but stouter one which Gabord had not taken from me. There could be + no pounding, no chiselling, but only rubbing of the hard stone. So hour + after hour I rubbed away, in constant danger of discovery however. My + jailer had a trick of sudden entrance, which would have been grotesque if + it had not been so serious to me. To provide against the flurried + inquisition of his eye, I kept near me bread well chewed, with which I + filled the hole, covering it with the sand I had rubbed or the ashes of my + pipe. I lived in dread of these entrances, but at last I found that they + chanced only within certain hours, and I arranged my times of work + accordingly. Once or twice, however, being impatient, I scratched the + stone with some asperity and noise, and was rewarded by hearing my fellow + stumbling in the hall; for he had as uncertain limbs as ever I saw. He + stumbled upon nothing, as you have seen a child trip itself up by tangling + of its feet. + </p> + <p> + The first time that he came, roused by the grating noise as he sat below, + he stumbled in the very centre of the cell, and fell upon his knees. I + would have laughed if I had dared, but I yawned over the book I had + hastily snatched up, and puffed great whiffs from my pipe. I dreaded lest + he should go to the window. He started for it, but suddenly made for my + couch, and dragged it away, as if looking to find a hole dug beneath it. + Still I did not laugh at him, but gravely watched him; and presently he + went away. At another time I was foolishly harsh with my tools; but I knew + now the time required by him to come upstairs, and I swiftly filled the + groove with bread, strewed ashes and sand over it, rubbed all smooth, and + was plunged in my copy of Montaigne when he entered. This time he went + straight to the window, looked at it, tried the stanchions, and then, with + an amused attempt at being cunning and hiding his own vigilance, he asked + me, with laborious hypocrisy, if I had seen Captain Lancy pass the window. + And so for weeks and weeks we played hide-and-seek with each other. + </p> + <p> + At last I had nothing to do but sit and wait, for the groove was cut, the + bar had room to play. I could not bend it, for it was fast at the top; but + when my hour of adventure was come, I would tie a handkerchief round the + two bars and twist it with the piece of hickory used for stirring the + fire. Here was my engine of escape, and I waited till April should wind to + its close, when I should, in the softer weather, try my fortune outside + these walls. + </p> + <p> + So time went on until one eventful day, even the 30th of April of that + year 1758. It was raining and blowing when I waked, and it ceased not all + the day, coming to a hailstorm towards night. I felt sure that my guards + without would, on such a day, relax their vigilance. In the evening I + listened, and heard no voices nor any sound of feet, only the pelting rain + and the whistling wind. Yet I did not stir till midnight. Then I slung the + knapsack in front of me, so that I could force it through the window + first, and tying my handkerchief round the iron bars, I screwed it up with + my stick. Presently the bars came together, and my way was open. I got my + body through by dint of squeezing, and let myself go plump into the mire + below. Then I stood still a minute, and listened again. + </p> + <p> + A light was shining not far away. Drawing near, I saw that it came from a + small hut or lean-to. Looking through the cracks, I observed my two + gentlemen drowsing in the corner. I was eager for their weapons, but I + dared not make the attempt to get them, for they were laid between their + legs, the barrels resting against their shoulders. I drew back, and for a + moment paused to get my bearings. Then I made for a corner of the yard + where the wall was lowest, and, taking a run at it, caught the top, with + difficulty scrambled up, and speedily was over and floundering in the mud. + I knew well where I was, and at once started off in a northwesterly + direction, toward the St. Charles River, making for a certain farmhouse + above the town. Yet I took care, though it was dangerous, to travel a + street in which was Voban’s house. There was no light in the street nor in + his house, nor had I seen any one abroad as I came, not even a sentinel. + </p> + <p> + I knew where was the window of the barber’s bedroom, and I tapped upon it + softly. Instantly I heard a stir; then there came the sound of flint and + steel, then a light, and presently a hand at the window, and a voice + asking who was there. + </p> + <p> + I gave a quick reply; the light was put out, the window opened, and there + was Voban staring at me. + </p> + <p> + “This letter,” said I, “to Mademoiselle Duvarney,” and I slipped ten louis + into his hand, also. + </p> + <p> + This he quickly handed back. “M’sieu’,” said he, “if I take it I would + seem to myself a traitor—no, no. But I will give the letter to + ma’m’selle.” + </p> + <p> + Then he asked me in; but I would not, yet begged him, if he could, to have + a canoe at my disposal at a point below the Falls of Montmorenci two + nights hence. + </p> + <p> + “M’sieu’,” said he, “I will do so if I can, but I am watched. I would not + pay a sou for my life—no. Yet I will serve you, if there is a way.” + </p> + <p> + Then I told him what I meant to do, and bade him repeat it exactly to + Alixe. This he swore to do, and I cordially grasped the good wretch’s + shoulder, and thanked him with all my heart. I got from him a weapon, + also, and again I put gold louis into his hand, and bade him keep it, for + I might need his kind offices to spend it for me. To this he consented, + and I plunged into the dark again. I had not gone far when I heard + footsteps coming, and I drew aside into the corner of a porch. A moment, + then the light flashed full upon me. I had my hand upon the hanger I had + got from Voban, and I was ready to strike if there were need, when + Gabord’s voice broke on my ear, and his hand caught at the short sword by + his side. + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis dickey-bird, aho!” cried he. There was exultation in his eye and + voice. Here was a chance for him to prove himself against me; he had + proved himself for me more than once. + </p> + <p> + “Here was I,” added he, “making for M’sieu’ Voban, that he might come and + bleed a sick soldier, when who should come running but our English + captain! Come forth, aho!” + </p> + <p> + “No, Gabord,” said I, “I’m bound for freedom.” I stepped forth. His sword + was poised against me. I was intent to make a desperate fight. + </p> + <p> + “March on,” returned he gruffly, and I could feel the iron in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “But not with you, Gabord. My way lies towards Virginia.” + </p> + <p> + I did not care to strike the first blow, and I made to go past him. His + lantern came down, and he made a catch at my shoulder. I swung back, threw + off my cloak and up my weapon. + </p> + <p> + Then we fought. My knapsack troubled me, for it was loose, and kept + shifting. Gabord made stroke after stroke, watchful, heavy, offensive, + muttering to himself as he struck and parried. There was no hatred in his + eyes, but he had the lust of fighting on him, and he was breathing easily, + and could have kept this up for hours. As we fought I could hear a clock + strike one in a house near. Then a cock crowed. I had received two slight + wounds, and I had not touched my enemy. But I was swifter, and I came at + him suddenly with a rush, and struck for his left shoulder when I saw my + chance. I felt the steel strike the bone. As I did so, he caught my wrist + and lunged most fiercely at me, dragging me to him. The blow struck + straight at my side, but it went through the knapsack, which had swung + loose, and so saved my life; for another instant and I had tripped him + down, and he lay bleeding badly. + </p> + <p> + “Aho! ‘twas a fair fight,” said he. “Now get you gone. I call for help.” + </p> + <p> + “I can not leave you so, Gabord,” said I. I stooped and lifted up his + head. + </p> + <p> + “Then you shall go to citadel,” said he, feeling for his small trumpet. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” I answered; “I’ll go fetch Voban.” + </p> + <p> + “To bleed me more!” quoth he whimsically; and I knew well he was pleased + that I did not leave him. “Nay, kick against yon door. It is Captain + Lancy’s.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment a window opened, and Lancy’s voice was heard. Without a + word I seized the soldier’s lantern and my cloak, and made away as hard as + I could go. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll have a wing of you for lantern there!” roared Gabord, swearing + roundly as I ran off with it. + </p> + <p> + With all my might I hurried, and was soon outside the town, and coming + fast to the farmhouse about two miles beyond. Nearing it, I hid the + lantern beneath my cloak and made for an outhouse. The door was not + locked, and I passed in. There was a loft nearly full of hay, and I + crawled up, and dug a hole far down against the side of the building, and + climbed in, bringing with me for drink a nest of hen’s eggs which I found + in a corner. The warmth of the dry hay was comforting, and after caring + for my wounds, which I found were but scratches, I had somewhat to eat + from my knapsack, drank up two eggs, and then coiled myself for sleep. It + was my purpose, if not discovered, to stay where I was two days, and then + to make for the point below the Falls of Montmorenci where I hoped to find + a canoe of Voban’s placing. + </p> + <p> + When I waked it must have been near noon, so I lay still for a time, + listening to the cheerful noise of fowls and cattle in the yard without, + and to the clacking of a hen above me. The air smelt very sweet. I also + heard my unknowing host, at whose table I had once sat, two years before, + talking with his son, who had just come over from Quebec, bringing news of + my escape, together with a wonderful story of the fight between Gabord and + myself. It had, by his calendar, lasted some three hours, and both of us, + in the end, fought as we lay upon the ground. “But presently along comes a + cloaked figure, with horses, and he lifts m’sieu’ the Englishman upon one, + and away they ride like the devil towards St. Charles River and Beauport. + Gabord was taken to the hospital, and he swore that Englishman would not + have got away if stranger had not fetched him a crack with a pistol-butt + which sent him dumb and dizzy. And there M’sieu’ Lancy sleep snug through + all until the horses ride away!” + </p> + <p> + The farmer and his son laughed heartily, with many a “By Gar!” their sole + English oath. Then came the news that six thousand livres were offered for + me, dead or living, the drums beating far and near to tell the people so. + </p> + <p> + The farmer gave a long whistle, and in a great bustle set to calling all + his family to arm themselves and join with him in this treasure-hunting. I + am sure at least a dozen were at the task, searching all about; nor did + they neglect the loft where I lay. But I had dug far down, drawing the hay + over me as I went, so that they must needs have been keen to smell me out. + After about three hours’ poking about over all the farm, they met again + outside this building, and I could hear their gabble plainly. The smallest + among them, the piping chore-boy, he was for spitting me without mercy; + and the milking-lass would toast me with a hay-fork, that she would, and + six thousand livres should set her up forever. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of their rattling came two soldiers, who ordered them about, + and with much blustering began searching here and there, and chucking the + maids under the chins, as I could tell by their little bursts of laughter, + and the “La M’sieu’s!” which trickled through the hay. + </p> + <p> + I am sure that one such little episode saved me. For I heard a soldier + just above me poking and tossing hay with uncomfortable vigour. But + presently the amorous hunter turned his thoughts elsewhere, and I was left + to myself, and to a late breakfast of parched beans and bread and raw + eggs, after which I lay and thought; and the sum of the thinking was that + I would stay where I was till the first wave of the hunt had passed. + </p> + <p> + Near midnight of the second day I came out secretly from my lurking-place, + and faced straight for the St. Charles River. Finding it at high water, I + plunged in, with my knapsack and cloak on my head, and made my way across, + reaching the opposite shore safely. After going two miles or so, I + discovered friendly covert in the woods, where, in spite of my cloak and + dry cedar boughs wrapped round, I shivered as I lay until the morning. + When the sun came up, I drew out, that it might dry me; after which I + crawled back into my nest and fell into a broken sleep. Many times during + the day I heard the horns of my hunters, and more than once voices near + me. But I had crawled into the hollow of a half-uprooted stump, and the + cedar branches, which had been cut off a day or two before, were a screen. + I could see soldiers here and there, armed and swaggering, and faces of + peasants and shopkeepers whom I knew. + </p> + <p> + A function was being made of my escape; it was a hunting-feast, in which + women were as eager as their husbands and their brothers. There was + something devilish in it, when I came to think of it: a whole town roused + and abroad to hunt down one poor fugitive, whose only sin was, in + themselves, a virtue—loyalty to his country. I saw women armed with + sickles and iron forks, and lads bearing axes and hickory poles cut to a + point like a spear, while blunderbusses were in plenty. Now and again a + weapon was fired, and, to watch their motions and peepings, it might have + been thought I was a dragon, or that they all were hunting La Jongleuse, + their fabled witch, whose villainies, are they not told at every fireside? + </p> + <p> + Often I shivered violently, and anon I was burning hot; my adventure had + given me a chill and fever. Late in the evening of this day, my hunters + having drawn off with as little sense as they had hunted me, I edged + cautiously down past Beauport and on to the Montmorenci Falls. I came + along in safety, and reached a spot near the point where Voban was to hide + the boat. The highway ran between. I looked out cautiously. I could hear + and see nothing, and so ran out and crossed the road, and pushed for the + woods on the banks of the river. I had scarcely got across when I heard a + shout, and looking round I saw three horsemen, who instantly spurred + towards me. I sprang through the underbrush and came down roughly into a + sort of quarry, spraining my ankle on a pile of stones. I got up quickly; + but my ankle hurt me sorely, and I turned sick and dizzy. Limping a little + way, I set my back against a tree, and drew my hanger. As I did so, the + three gentlemen burst in upon me. They were General Montcalm, a gentleman + of the Governor’s household, and Doltaire! + </p> + <p> + “It is no use, dear Captain,” said Doltaire. “Yield up your weapon.” + </p> + <p> + General Montcalm eyed me curiously, as the other gentleman talked in low, + excited tones; and presently he made a gesture of courtesy, for he saw + that I was hurt. Doltaire’s face wore a malicious smile; but when he noted + how sick I was, he came and offered me his arm, and was constant in + courtesy till I was set upon a horse; and with him and the General riding + beside me I came to my new imprisonment. They both forbore to torture me + with words, for I was suffering greatly; but they fetched me to the + Chateau St. Louis, followed by a crowd, who hooted at me. Doltaire turned + on them at last, and stopped them. + </p> + <p> + The Governor, whose petty vanity was roused, showed a foolish fury at + seeing me, and straightway ordered me to the citadel again. + </p> + <p> + “It’s useless kicking ‘gainst the pricks,” said Doltaire to me cynically, + as I passed out limping between two soldiers; but I did not reply. In + another half hour of most bitter journeying I found myself in my dungeon. + I sank upon the old couch of straw, untouched since I had left it; and + when the door shut upon me, desponding, aching in all my body, now + feverish and now shivering, my ankle in great pain, I could bear up no + longer, and I bowed my head and fell a-weeping like a woman. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVIII. THE STEEP PATH OF CONQUEST + </h2> + <p> + Now I am come to a period on which I shall not dwell, nor repeat a tale of + suffering greater than that I had yet endured. All the first night of this + new imprisonment I tossed on my wretched bed in pain and misery. A strange + and surly soldier came and went, bringing bread and water; but when I + asked that a physician be sent me, he replied, with a vile oath, that the + devil should be my only surgeon. Soon he came again, accompanied by + another soldier, and put irons on me. With what quietness I could I asked + him by whose orders this was done; but he vouchsafed no reply save that I + was to “go bound to fires of hell.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no journeying there,” I answered; “here is the place itself.” + </p> + <p> + Then a chain was roughly put round my injured ankle, and it gave me such + agony that I turned sick, but I kept back groaning, for I would not have + these varlets catch me quaking. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll have you grilled for this one day,” said I. “You are no men, but + butchers. Can you not see my ankle has been sorely hurt?” + </p> + <p> + “You are for killing,” was the gruff reply, “and here’s a taste of it.” + </p> + <p> + With that he drew the chain with a jerk round the hurt member, so that it + drove me to madness. I caught him by the throat and hurled him back + against the wall, and snatching a pistol from his comrade’s belt aimed it + at his head. I was beside myself with pain, and if he had been further + violent I should have shot him. His fellow dared not stir in his defence, + for the pistol was trained on him too surely; and so at last the wretch, + promising better treatment, crawled to his feet, and made motion for the + pistol to be given him. But I would not yield it, telling him it should be + a guarantee of truce. Presently the door closed behind them, and I sank + back upon the half-fettered chains. + </p> + <p> + I must have sat for more than an hour, when there was a noise without, and + there entered the Commandant, the Marquis de Montcalm, and the Seigneur + Duvarney. The pistol was in my hand, and I did not put it down, but + struggled to my feet, and waited for them to speak. + </p> + <p> + For a moment there was silence, and then the Commandant said, “Your guards + have brought me word, Monsieur le Capitaine, that you are violent. You + have resisted them, and have threatened them with their own pistols.” + </p> + <p> + “With one pistol, monsieur le commandant,” answered I. Then, in bitter + words, I told them of my treatment by those rascals, and I showed them how + my ankle had been tortured. “I have no fear of death,” said I, “but I will + not lie and let dogs bite me with ‘I thank you.’ Death can come but once, + it is a damned brutality to make one die a hundred and yet live—the + work of Turks, not Christians. If you want my life, why, take it and have + done.” + </p> + <p> + The Marquis de Montcalm whispered to the Commandant. The Seigneur + Duvarney, to whom I had not yet spoken, nor he to me, stood leaning + against the wall, gazing at me seriously and kindly. + </p> + <p> + Presently Ramesay, the Commandant, spoke, not unkindly: “It was ordered + you should wear chains, but not that you should be maltreated. A surgeon + shall be sent to you, and this chain shall be taken from your ankle. + Meanwhile, your guards shall be changed.” + </p> + <p> + I held out the pistol, and he took it. “I can not hope for justice here,” + said I, “but men are men, and not dogs, and I ask for human usage till my + hour comes and my country is your jailer.” + </p> + <p> + The Marquis smiled, and his gay eyes sparkled. “Some find comfort in daily + bread, and some in prophecy,” he rejoined. “One should envy your spirit, + Captain Moray.” + </p> + <p> + “Permit me, your Excellency,” replied I; “all Englishmen must envy the + spirit of the Marquis de Montcalm, though none is envious of his cause.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed gravely. “Causes are good or bad as they are ours or our + neighbours’. The lion has a good cause when it goes hunting for its young; + the deer has a good cause when it resists the lion’s leap upon its fawn.” + </p> + <p> + I did not reply, for I felt a faintness coming; and at that moment the + Seigneur Duvarney came to me, and put his arm through mine. A dizziness + seized me, my head sank upon his shoulder, and I felt myself floating away + into darkness, while from a great distance came a voice: + </p> + <p> + “It had been kinder to have ended it last year.” + </p> + <p> + “He nearly killed your son, Duvarney.” This was the voice of the Marquis + in a tone of surprise. + </p> + <p> + “He saved my life, Marquis,” was the sorrowful reply. “I have not paid + back those forty pistoles, nor ever can, in spite of all.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, pardon me, seigneur,” was the courteous rejoinder of the General. + </p> + <p> + That was all I heard, for I had entered the land of complete darkness. + When I came to, I found that my foot had been bandaged, there was a torch + in the wall, and by my side something in a jug, of which I drank, + according to directions in a surgeon’s hand on a paper beside it. + </p> + <p> + I was easier in all my body, yet miserably sick still, and I remained so, + now shivering and now burning, a racking pain in my chest. My couch was + filled with fresh straw, but in no other wise was my condition altered + from the first time I had entered this place. My new jailer was a man of + no feeling that I could see, yet of no violence or cruelty; one whose life + was like a wheel, doing the eternal round. He did no more nor less than + his orders, and I made no complaint nor asked any favour. No one came to + me, no message found its way. + </p> + <p> + Full three months went by in this fashion, and then, one day, who should + step into my dungeon, torch in hand, but Gabord! He raised the light above + his head, and looked down at me most quizzically. + </p> + <p> + “Upon my soul—Gabord!” said I. “I did not kill you, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Upon your soul and upon your body, you killed not Gabord.” + </p> + <p> + “And what now, quarrelsome Gabord?” I questioned cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + He shook some keys. “Back again to dickey-bird’s cage. ‘Look you,’ quoth + Governor, ‘who will guard and bait this prisoner like the man he mauled?’ + ‘No one,’ quoth a lady who stands by Governor’s chair. And she it was who + had Governor send me here—even Ma’m’selle Duvarney. And she it was + who made the Governor loose off these chains.” + </p> + <p> + He began to free me from the chains. I was in a vile condition. The irons + had made sores upon my wrists and legs, my limbs now trembled so beneath + me that I could scarcely walk, and my head was very light and dizzy at + times. Presently Gabord ordered a new bed of straw brought in; and from + that hour we returned to our old relations, as if there had not been + between us a fight to the death. Of what was going on abroad he would not + tell me, and soon I found myself in as ill a state as before. No Voban + came to me, no Doltaire, no one at all. I sank into a deep silence, + dropped out of a busy world, a morsel of earth slowly coming to Mother + Earth again. + </p> + <p> + A strange apathy began to settle on me. All those resources of my first + year’s imprisonment had gone, and I was alone: my mouse was dead; there + was no history of my life to write, no incident to break the pitiful + monotony. There seemed only one hope: that our army under Amherst would + invest Quebec and take it. I had no news of any movement, winter again was + here, and it must be five or six months before any action could + successfully be taken; for the St. Lawrence was frozen over in winter, and + if the city was to be seized it must be from the water, with simultaneous + action by land. + </p> + <p> + I knew the way, the only way, to take the city. At Sillery, west of the + town, there was a hollow in the cliffs, up which men, secretly conveyed + above the town by water, could climb. At the top was a plateau, smooth and + fine as a parade-ground, where battle could be given, or move be made upon + the city and citadel, which lay on ground no higher. Then, with the guns + playing on the town from the fleet, and from the Levis shore with forces + on the Beauport side, attacking the lower town where was the Intendant’s + palace, the great fortress might be taken, and Canada be ours. + </p> + <p> + This passage up the cliff side at Sillery I had discovered three years + before. + </p> + <p> + When winter set well in Gabord brought me a blanket, and though last year + I had not needed it, now it was most grateful. I had been fed for months + on bread and water, as in my first imprisonment, but at last—whether + by orders or not, I never knew—he brought me a little meat every + day, and some wine also. Yet I did not care for them, and often left them + untasted. A hacking cough had never left me since my attempt at escape, + and I was miserably thin, and so weak that I could hardly drag myself + about my dungeon. So, many weeks of the winter went on, and at last I was + not able to rise from my bed of straw, and could do little more than lift + a cup of water to my lips and nibble at some bread. I felt that my hours + were numbered. + </p> + <p> + At last, one day, I heard commotion at my dungeon door; it opened, and + Gabord entered and closed it after him. He came and stood over me, as with + difficulty I lifted myself upon my elbow. + </p> + <p> + “Come, try your wings,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “It is the end, Gabord?” asked I. + </p> + <p> + “Not paradise yet!” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Then I am free?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Free from this dungeon,” he answered cheerily. + </p> + <p> + I raised myself and tried to stand upon my feet, but fell back. He helped + me to rise, and I rested an arm on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + I tried to walk, but faintness came over me, and I sank back. Then Gabord + laid me down, went to the door, and called in two soldiers with a + mattress. I was wrapped in my cloak and blankets, laid thereon, and so was + borne forth, all covered even to my weak eyes. I was placed in a sleigh, + and as the horses sprang away, the clear sleigh-bells rang out, and a gun + from the ramparts was fired to give the noon hour, I sank into + unconsciousness. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIX. A DANSEUSE AND THE BASTILE + </h2> + <p> + Recovering, I found myself lying on a couch, in a large, well-lighted room + hung about with pictures and adorned with trophies of the hunt. A wide + window faced the foot of the bed where I lay, and through it I could see—though + the light hurt my eyes greatly—the Levis shore, on the opposite side + of the St. Lawrence. I lay and thought, trying to discover where I was. It + came to me at last that I was in a room of the Chateau St. Louis. + Presently I heard breathing near me, and, looking over, I saw a soldier + sitting just inside the door. + </p> + <p> + Then from another corner of the room came a surgeon with some cordial in a + tumbler, and, handing it to me, he bade me drink. He felt my pulse; then + stopped and put his ear to my chest, and listened long. + </p> + <p> + “Is there great danger?” asked I. + </p> + <p> + “The trouble would pass,” said he, “if you were stronger. Your life is + worth fighting for, but it will be a struggle. That dungeon was slow + poison. You must have a barber,” added he; “you are a ghost like this.” + </p> + <p> + I put my hand up, and I found my hair and beard were very long and almost + white. Held against the light, my hands seemed transparent. “What means my + coming here?” asked I. + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. “I am but a surgeon,” he answered shortly, meanwhile + writing with a flourish on a piece of paper. When he had finished, he + handed the paper to the soldier, with an order. Then he turned to go, + politely bowing to me, but turned again and said, “I would not, were I + you, trouble to plan escape these months yet. This is a comfortable + prison, but it is easier coming in than going out. Your mind and body need + quiet. You have, we know, a taste for adventure”—he smiled—“but + is it wise to fight a burning powder magazine?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, monsieur,” said I, “I am myself laying the fuse to that + magazine. It fights for me by-and-bye.” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged a shoulder. “Drink,” said he, with a professional air which + almost set me laughing, “good milk and brandy, and think of nothing but + that you are a lucky man to have this sort of prison.” + </p> + <p> + He bustled out in an important way, shaking his head and talking to + himself. Tapping the chest of a bulky soldier who stood outside, he said + brusquely, “Too fat, too fat; you’ll come to apoplexy. Go fight the + English, lazy ruffian!” + </p> + <p> + The soldier gave a grunt, made a mocking gesture, and the door closed on + me and my attendant. This fellow would not speak at all, and I did not + urge him, but lay and watched the day decline and night come down. I was + taken to a small alcove which adjoined the room, where I slept soundly. + </p> + <p> + Early the next morning I waked, and there was Voban sitting just outside + the alcove, looking at me. I sat up in bed and spoke to him, and he + greeted me in an absent sort of way. He was changed as much as I; he moved + as one in a dream; yet there was the ceaseless activity of the eye, the + swift, stealthy motion of the hand. He began to attend me, and I + questioned him; but he said he had orders from mademoiselle that he was to + tell nothing—that she, as soon as she could, would visit me. + </p> + <p> + I felt at once a new spring of life. I gave him the letter I had written, + and bade him deliver it, which he promised to do; for though there was + much in it not vital now, it was a record of my thoughts and feelings, and + she would be glad of it, I knew. I pressed Voban’s hand in leaving, and he + looked at me as if he would say something; but immediately he was + abstracted, and left me like one forgetful of the world. + </p> + <p> + About three hours after this, as I lay upon the couch in the large room, + clean and well shaven, the door opened, and some one entered, saying to my + guard, “You will remain outside. I have the Governor’s order.” + </p> + <p> + I knew the voice; an instant, and I saw the face shining with expectancy, + the eyes eager, yet timid, a small white hand pressed to a pulsing breast—my + one true friend, the jailer of my heart. + </p> + <p> + For a moment she was all trembling and excited, her hand softly clutching + at my shoulder, tears dripping from her eyes and falling on my cheek, as + hers lay pressed to mine; but presently she grew calm, and her face was + lifted with a smile, and, brushing back some flying locks of hair, she + said in a tone most quaint and touching too, “Poor gentleman! poor English + prisoner! poor hidden lover! I ought not, I ought not,” she added, “show + my feelings thus, nor excite you so.” My hand was trembling on hers, for + in truth I was very weak. “It was my purpose,” she continued, “to come + most quietly to you; but there are times when one must cry out, or the + heart will burst.” + </p> + <p> + I spoke then as a man may who has been delivered from bondage into the + arms of love. She became very quiet, looking at me in her grave, sweet + way, her deep eyes shining with a sincerity. + </p> + <p> + “Honest, honest eyes,” said I—“eyes that never deceive, and never + were deceived.” + </p> + <p> + “All this in spite of what you do not know,” she answered. For an instant + a look elfish and childlike came into her eyes, and she drew back from me, + stood in the middle of the floor, and caught her skirts in her fingers. + </p> + <p> + “See,” she said, “is there no deceit here?” + </p> + <p> + Then she began to dance softly, her feet seeming hardly to touch the + ground, her body swaying like a tall flower in the wind, her face all + light and fire. I was charmed, fascinated. I felt my sleepy blood stirring + to the delicate rise and fall of her bosom, the light of her eyes flashing + a dozen colours. There was scarce a sound her steps could not be heard + across the room. + </p> + <p> + All at once she broke off from this, and stood still. + </p> + <p> + “Did my eyes seem all honest then?” she asked, with a strange, wistful + expression. Then she came to the couch where I was. + </p> + <p> + “Robert,” said she, “can you, do you trust me, even when you see me at + such witchery?” + </p> + <p> + “I trust you always,” answered I. “Such witcheries are no evils that I can + see.” + </p> + <p> + She put her finger upon my lips, with a kind of bashfulness. “Hush, till I + tell you where and when I danced like that, and then, and then—” + </p> + <p> + She settled down in a low chair. “I have at least an hour,” she continued. + “The Governor is busy with my father and General Montcalm, and they will + not be free for a long time. For your soldiers, I have been bribing them + to my service these weeks past, and they are safe enough for to-day. Now I + will tell you of that dancing. + </p> + <p> + “One night last autumn there was a grand dinner at the Intendance. Such + gentlemen as my father were not asked; only the roisterers and hard + drinkers, and gambling friends of the Intendant. You would know the sort + of upspring it would be. Well, I was sitting in my window, looking down + into the garden; for the moon was shining. Presently I saw a man appear + below, glance up towards me, and beckon. It was Voban. I hurried down to + him, and he told me that there had been a wild carousing at the palace, + and that ten gentlemen had determined, for a wicked sport, to mask + themselves, go to the citadel at midnight, fetch you forth, and make you + run the gauntlet in the yard of the Intendance, and afterwards set you + fighting for your life with another prisoner, a common criminal. To this, + Bigot, heated with wine, made no objection. Monsieur Doltaire was not + present; he had, it was said, taken a secret journey into the English + country. The Governor was in Montreal, where he had gone to discuss + matters of war with the Council. + </p> + <p> + “There was but one thing to do—get word to General Montcalm. He was + staying at the moment with the Seigneur Pipon at his manor by the + Montmorenci Falls. He must needs be sought there: he would never allow + this shameless thing. So I bade Voban go thither at once, getting a horse + from any quarter, and to ride as if for his life. He promised, and left + me, and I returned to my room to think. Voban had told me that his news + came from Bigot’s valet, who is his close friend. This I knew, and I knew + the valet too, for I had seen something of him when my brother lay wounded + at the palace. Under the best circumstances General Montcalm could not + arrive within two hours. Meanwhile, these miserable men might go on their + dreadful expedition. Something must be done to gain time. I racked my + brain for minutes, till the blood pounded at my temples. Presently a plan + came to me. + </p> + <p> + “There is in Quebec one Madame Jamond, a great Parisian dancer, who, for + reasons which none knows save perhaps Monsieur Doltaire, has been banished + from France. Since she came to Canada, some nine months ago, she has lived + most quietly and religiously, though many trials have been made to bring + her talents into service; and the Intendant has made many efforts have her + dance in the palace for his guests. But she would not. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Lotbiniere had come to know Jamond, and she arranged, after much + persuasion, for lessons in dancing to be given to Lucy, myself, and + Georgette. To me the dancing was a keen delight, a passion. As I danced I + saw and felt a thousand things, I can not tell you how. Now my feet + appeared light as air, like thistledown, my body to float. I was as a lost + soul flying home, flocks of birds singing me to come with them into a + pleasant land. + </p> + <p> + “Then all that changed, and I was passing through a bitter land, with + harsh shadows and tall cold mountains. From clefts and hollows figures + flew out and caught at me with filmy hands. These melancholy things + pursued me as I flew, till my wings drooped, and I felt that I must drop + into the dull marsh far beneath, round which travelled a lonely mist. + </p> + <p> + “But this too passed, and I came through a land all fire, so that, as I + flew swiftly, my wings were scorched, and I was blinded often, and often + missed my way, and must change my course of flight. It was all scarlet, + all that land—scarlet sky and scarlet sun, and scarlet flowers, and + the rivers running red, and men and women in long red robes, with eyes of + flame, and voices that kept crying, ‘The world is mad, and all life is a + fever!’” + </p> + <p> + She paused for a moment, seeming to come out of a dream, and then she + laughed a little. “Will you not go on?” I asked gently. + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes, too,” she continued, “I fancied I was before a king and his + court, dancing for my life or for another’s. Oh, how I scanned the faces + of my judges, as they sat there watching me; some meanwhile throwing + crumbs to fluttering birds that whirled round me, some stroking the ears + of hounds that gaped at me, while the king’s fool at first made mock at + me, and the face of a man behind the king’s chair smiled like Satan—or + Monsieur Doltaire! Ah, Robert, I know you think me fanciful and foolish, + as indeed I am; but you must bear with me. + </p> + <p> + “I danced constantly, practising hour upon hour with Jamond, who came to + be my good friend; and you shall hear from me some day her history—a + sad one indeed; a woman sinned against, not sinning. But these special + lessons went on secretly, for I was sure, if people knew how warmly I + followed this recreation, they would set it down to wilful desire to be + singular—or worse. It gave me new interest in lonely days. So the + weeks went on. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that wicked night I sent Voban to General Montcalm, and, as I said, + a thought came to me: I would find Jamond, beg her to mask herself, go to + the Intendance, and dance before the gentlemen there, keeping them amused + till the General came, as I was sure he would at my suggestion, for he is + a just man and a generous. All my people, even Georgette, were abroad at a + soiree, and would not be home till late. So I sought Mathilde, and she + hurried with me, my poor daft protector, to Jamond’s, whose house is very + near the bishop’s palace. + </p> + <p> + “We were at once admitted to Jamond, who was lying upon a couch. I + hurriedly told her what I wished her to do, what was at stake, everything + but that I loved you; laying my interest upon humanity and to your having + saved my father’s life. She looked troubled at once, then took my face in + her hands. ‘Dear child,’ she said, ‘I understand. You have sorrow too + young—too young.’ ‘But you will do this for me?’ I cried. She shook + her head sadly. ‘I can not. I am lame these two days,’ she answered. ‘I + have had a sprain.’ I sank on the floor beside her, sick and dazed. She + put her hand pitifully on my head, then lifted up my chin. Looking into + her eyes, I read a thought there, and I got to my feet with a spring. ‘I + myself will go,’ said I; ‘I will dance there till the General comes.’ She + put out her hand in protest. ‘You must not,’ she urged. ‘Think: you may be + discovered, and then the ruin that must come!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I shall put my trust in God,’ said I. ‘I have no fear. I will do this + thing.’ She caught me to her breast. ‘Then God be with you, child,’ was + her answer; ‘you shall do it.’ In ten minutes I was dressed in a gown of + hers, which last had been worn when she danced before King Louis. It + fitted me well, and with a wig the colour of her hair, brought quickly + from her boxes, and use of paints which actors use, I was transformed. + Indeed, I could scarce recognize myself without the mask, and with it on + my mother would not have known me. ‘I will go with you,’ she said to me, + and she hurriedly put on an old woman’s wig and a long cloak, quickly + lined her face, and we were ready. She walked lame, and must use a stick, + and we issued forth towards the Intendance, Mathilde remaining behind. + </p> + <p> + “When we got to the palace, and were admitted, I asked for the Intendant’s + valet, and we stood waiting in the cold hall until he was brought. ‘We + come from Voban, the barber,’ I whispered to him, for there were servants + near; and he led us at once to his private room. He did not recognize me, + but looked at us with sidelong curiosity. ‘I am,’ said I, throwing back my + cloak, ‘a dancer, and I have come to dance before the Intendant and his + guests.’ ‘His Excellency does not expect you?’ he asked. ‘His Excellency + has many times asked Madame Jamond to dance before him,’ I replied. He was + at once all complaisance, but his face was troubled. ‘You come from + Monsieur Voban?’ he inquired. ‘From Monsieur Voban,’ answered I. ‘He has + gone to General Montcalm.’ His face fell, and a kind of fear passed over + it. ‘There is no peril to any one save the English gentleman,’ I urged. A + light dawned on him. ‘You dance until the General comes?’ he asked, + pleased at his own penetration. ‘You will take me at once to the + dining-hall,’ said I, nodding. ‘They are in the Chambre de la Joie,’ he + rejoined. ‘Then the Chambre de la Joie,’ said I; and he led the way. When + we came near the chamber, I said to him, ‘You will tell the Intendant that + a lady of some gifts in dancing would entertain his guests; but she must + come and go without exchange of individual courtesies, at her will. + </p> + <p> + “He opened the door of the chamber, and we followed him; for there was + just inside a large oak screen, and from its shadow we could see the room + and all therein. At the first glance I shrank back, for, apart from the + noise and the clattering of tongues, such a riot of carousal I have never + seen. I was shocked to note gentlemen whom I had met in society, with the + show of decorum about them, loosed now from all restraint, and swaggering + like woodsmen at a fair. I felt a sudden fear, and drew back sick; but + that was for an instant, for even as the valet came to the Intendant’s + chair a dozen or more men, who were sitting near together in noisy yet + half-secret conference, rose to their feet, each with a mask in his hand, + and started towards the door. I felt my blood fly back and forth in my + heart with great violence, and I leaned against the oak screen for + support. ‘Courage,’ said the voice of Jamond in my ear, and I ruled myself + to quietness. + </p> + <p> + “Just then the Intendant’s voice stopped the men in their movement towards + the great entrance door, and drew the attention of the whole company. + ‘Messieurs,’ said he, ‘a lady has come to dance for us. She makes + conditions which must be respected. She must be let come and go without + individual courtesies. Messieurs,’ he added, ‘I grant her request in your + name and my own.’ + </p> + <p> + “There was a murmur of ‘Jamond! Jamond!’ and every man stood looking + towards the great entrance door. The Intendant, however, was gazing + towards the door where I was, and I saw he was about to come, as if to + welcome me. Welcome from Francois Bigot to a dancing-woman! I slipped off + the cloak, looked at Jamond, who murmured once again, ‘Courage,’ and then + I stepped out swiftly, and made for a low, large dais at one side of the + room. I was so nervous that I knew not how I went. The faces and forms of + the company were blurred before me, and the lights shook and multiplied + distractedly. The room shone brilliantly, yet just under the great canopy, + over the dais; there were shadows, and they seemed to me, as I stepped + under the red velvet, a relief, a sort of hiding-place from innumerable + candles and hot unnatural eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Once there I was changed. I did not think of the applause that greeted + me, the murmurs of surprise, approbation, questioning, rising round me. + Suddenly, as I paused and faced them all, nervousness passed out of me, + and I saw nothing—nothing but a sort of far-off picture. My mind was + caught away into that world which I had created for myself when I danced, + and these rude gentlemen were but visions. All sense of indignity passed + from me. I was only a woman fighting for a life and for her own and her + another’s happiness. + </p> + <p> + “As I danced I did not know how time passed—only that I must keep + those men where they were till General Montcalm came. After a while, when + the first dazed feeling had passed, I could see their faces plainly + through my mask, and I knew that I could hold them; for they ceased to + lift their glasses, and stood watching me, sometimes so silent that I + could hear their breathing only, sometimes making a great applause, which + passed into silence again quickly. Once, as I wheeled, I caught the eyes + of Jamond watching me closely. The Intendant never stirred from his seat, + and scarcely moved, but kept his eyes fixed on me. Nor did he applaud. + There was something painful in his immovability. + </p> + <p> + “I saw it all as in a dream, yet I did see it, and I was resolute to + triumph over the wicked designs of base and abandoned men. I feared that + my knowledge and power to hold them might stop before help came. Once, in + a slight pause, when a great noise of their hands and a rattling of + scabbards on the table gave me a short respite, some one—Captain + Lancy, I think—snatched up a glass, and called on all to drink my + health. + </p> + <p> + “‘Jamond! Jamond!’ was the cry, and they drank; the Intendant himself + standing up, and touching the glass to his lips, then sitting down again, + silent and immovable as before. One gentleman, a nephew of the Chevalier + de la Darante, came swaying towards me with a glass of wine, begging me in + a flippant courtesy to drink; but I waved him back, and the Intendant said + most curtly, ‘Monsieur de la Darante will remember my injunction.’ + </p> + <p> + “Again I danced, and I can not tell you with what anxiety and desperation—for + there must be an end to it before long, and your peril, Robert, come + again, unless these rough fellows changed their minds. Moment after moment + went, and though I had danced beyond reasonable limits, I still seemed to + get new strength, as I have heard men say, in fighting, they ‘come to + their second wind.’ At last, at the end of the most famous step that + Jamond had taught me, I stood still for a moment to renewed applause; and + I must have wound these men up to excitement beyond all sense, for they + would not be dissuaded, but swarmed towards the dais where I was, and some + called for me to remove my mask. + </p> + <p> + “Then the Intendant came down among them, bidding them stand back, and + himself stepped towards me. I felt affrighted, for I liked not the look in + his eyes, and so, without a word, I stepped down from the dais—I did + not dare to speak, lest they should recognize my voice—and made for + the door with as much dignity as I might. But the Intendant came to me + with a mannered courtesy, and said in my ear, ‘Madame, you have won all + our hearts; I would you might accept some hospitality—a glass of + wine, a wing of partridge, in a room where none shall disturb you?’ I + shuddered, and passed on. ‘Nay, nay, madame, not even myself with you, + unless you would have it otherwise,’ he added. + </p> + <p> + “Still I did not speak, but put out my hand in protest, and moved on + towards the screen, we two alone, for the others had fallen back with + whisperings and side-speeches. Oh, how I longed to take the mask from my + face and spurn them! The hand that I put out in protest the Intendant + caught within his own, and would have held it, but that I drew it back + with indignation, and kept on towards the screen. Then I realized that a + new-corner had seen the matter, and I stopped short, dumfounded—for + it was Monsieur Doltaire! He was standing beside the screen, just within + the room, and he sent at the Intendant and myself a keen, piercing glance. + </p> + <p> + “Now he came forward quickly, for the Intendant also half stopped at sight + of him, and a malignant look shot from his eyes; hatred showed in the + profane word that was chopped off at his teeth. When Monsieur Doltaire + reached us, he said, his eyes resting on me with intense scrutiny, ‘His + Excellency will present me to his distinguished entertainer?’ He seemed to + read behind my mask. I knew he had discovered me, and my heart stood + still. But I raised my eyes and met his gaze steadily. The worst had come. + Well, I would face it now. I could endure defeat with courage. He paused + an instant, a strange look passed over his face, his eyes got hard and + very brilliant, and he continued (oh, what suspense that was!): ‘Ah yes, I + see—Jamond, the perfect and wonderful Jamond, who set us all + a-kneeling at Versailles. If Madame will permit me?’ He made to take my + hand. Here the Intendant interposed, putting out his hand also. ‘I have + promised to protect Madame from individual courtesy while here,’ he said. + Monsieur Doltaire looked at him keenly. ‘Then your Excellency must build + stone walls about yourself,’ he rejoined, with cold emphasis. ‘Sometimes + great men are foolish. To-night your Excellency would have let’—here + he raised his voice so that all could hear—‘your Excellency would + have let a dozen cowardly gentlemen drag a dying prisoner from his prison, + forcing back his Majesty’s officers at the dungeon doors, and, after + baiting, have matched him against a common criminal. That was unseemly in + a great man and a King’s chief officer, the trick of a low law-breaker. + Your Excellency promised a lady to protect her from individual courtesy, + if she gave pleasure—a pleasure beyond price—to you and your + guests, and you would have broken your word without remorse. General + Montcalm has sent a company of men to set your Excellency right in one + direction, and I am come to set you right in the other.’ + </p> + <p> + “The Intendant was white with rage. He muttered something between his + teeth, then said aloud, ‘Presently we will talk more of this, monsieur. + You measure strength with Francois Bigot: we will see which proves the + stronger in the end.’ ‘In the end the unjust steward kneels for mercy to + his master,’ was Monsieur Doltaire’s quiet answer; and then he made a + courteous gesture towards the door, and I went to it with him slowly, + wondering what the end would be. Once at the other side of the screen, he + peered into Jamond’s face for an instant, then he gave a low whistle. ‘You + have an apt pupil, Jamond, one who might be your rival one day,’ said he. + Still there was a puzzled look on his face, which did not leave it till he + saw Jamond walking. ‘Ah yes,’ he added, ‘I see now. You are lame. This was + a desperate yet successful expedient.’ + </p> + <p> + “He did not speak to me, but led the way to where, at the great door, was + the Intendant’s valet standing with my cloak. Taking it from him, he put + it round my shoulders. ‘The sleigh by which I came is at the door,’ he + said, ‘and I will take you home.’ I knew not what to do, for I feared some + desperate act on his part to possess me. I determined that I would not + leave Jamond, in any case, and I felt for a weapon which I had hidden in + my dress. We had not, however, gone a half dozen paces in the entrance + hall when there were quick steps behind, and four soldiers came towards + us, with an officer at their head—an officer whom I had seen in the + chamber, but did not recognize. + </p> + <p> + “‘Monsieur Doltaire,’ the officer said; and monsieur stopped. Then he + cried in surprise, ‘Legrand, you here!’ To this the officer replied by + handing monsieur a paper. Monsieur’s hand dropped to his sword, but in a + moment he gave a short, sharp laugh, and opened up the packet. ‘H’m,’ he + said, ‘the Bastile! The Grande Marquise is fretful—eh, Legrand? You + will permit me some moments with these ladies?’ he added. ‘A moment only,’ + answered the officer. ‘In another room?’ monsieur again asked. ‘A moment + where you are, monsieur,’ was the reply. Making a polite gesture for me to + step aside, Monsieur Doltaire said, in a voice which was perfectly + controlled and courteous, though I could hear behind all a deadly + emphasis, ‘I know everything now. You have foiled me, blindfolded me and + all others, these three years past. You have intrigued against the + captains of intrigue, you have matched yourself against practised + astuteness. On one side, I resent being made a fool and tool of; on the + other, I am lost in admiration of your talent. But henceforth there is no + such thing as quarter between us. Your lover shall die, and I will come + again. This whim of the Grande Marquise will last but till I see her; then + I will return to you—forever. Your lover shall die, your love’s + labour for him shall be lost. I shall reap where I did not sow—his + harvest and my own. I am as ice to you, mademoiselle, at this moment; I + have murder in my heart. Yet warmth will come again. I admire you so much + that I will have you for my own, or die. You are the high priestess of + diplomacy; your brain is a statesman’s, your heart is a vagrant; it goes + covertly from the sweet meadows of France to the marshes of England, a + taste unworthy of you. You shall be redeemed from that by Tinoir Doltaire. + Now thank me for all I have done for you, and let me say adieu.’ He + stooped and kissed my hand. ‘I can not thank you for what I myself + achieved,’ I said. ‘We are, as in the past, to be at war, you threaten, + and I have no gratitude.’ ‘Well, well, adieu and au revoir, sweetheart,’ + he answered. ‘If I should go to the Bastile, I shall have food for + thought; and I am your hunter to the end. In this good orchard I pick + sweet fruit one day.’ His look fell on me in such a way that shame and + anger were at equal height in me. Then he bowed again to me and to Jamond, + and, with a sedate gesture, walked away with the soldiers and the officer. + </p> + <p> + “You can guess what were my feelings. You were safe for the moment—that + was the great thing. The terror I had felt when I saw Monsieur Doltaire in + the Chambre de la Joie had passed, for I felt he would not betray me. He + is your foe, and he would kill you; but I was sure he would not put me in + danger while he was absent in France—if he expected to return—by + making public my love for you and my adventure at the palace. There is + something of the noble fighter in him, after all, though he is so evil a + man. A prisoner himself now, he would have no immediate means to hasten + your death. But I can never forget his searching, cruel look when he + recognized me! Of Jamond I was sure. Her own past had been full of sorrow, + and her life was now so secluded and religious that I could not doubt her. + Indeed, we have been blessed with good, true friends, Robert, though they + are not of those who are powerful, save in their loyalty.” + </p> + <p> + Alixe then told me that the officer Legrand had arrived from France but + two days before the eventful night of which I have just written, armed + with an order from the Grande Marquise for Doltaire’s arrest and + transportation. He had landed at Gaspe, and had come on to Quebec + overland. Arriving at the Intendance, he had awaited Doltaire’s coming. + Doltaire had stopped to visit General Montcalm at Montmorenci Falls, on + his way back from an expedition to the English country, and had thus + himself brought my protection and hurried to his own undoing. I was + thankful for his downfall, though I believed it was but for a moment. + </p> + <p> + I was curious to know how it chanced I was set free of my dungeon, and I + had the story from Alixe’s lips; but not till after I had urged her, for + she was sure her tale had wearied me, and she was eager to do little + offices of comfort about me; telling me gaily, while she shaded the light, + freshened my pillow, and gave me a cordial to drink, that she would + secretly convey me wines and preserves and jellies and such kickshaws, + that I should better get my strength. + </p> + <p> + “For you must know,” she said, “that though this gray hair and + transparency of flesh become you, making your eyes look like two jets of + flame and your face to have shadows most theatrical, a ruddy cheek and a + stout hand are more suited to a soldier. When you are young again in body, + these gray hairs shall render you distinguished.” + </p> + <p> + Then she sat down beside me, and clasped my hand, now looking out into the + clear light of afternoon to the farther shores of Levis, showing green + here and there from a sudden March rain, the boundless forests beyond, and + near us the ample St. Lawrence still covered with its vast bridge of ice; + anon into my face, while I gazed into those deeps of her blue eyes that I + had drowned my heart in. I loved to watch her, for with me she was ever + her own absolute self, free from all artifice, lost in her perfect + naturalness: a healthy, perfect soundness, a primitive simplicity beneath + the artifice of usual life. She had a beautiful hand, long, warm, and + firm, and the fingers, when they clasped, seemed to possess and inclose + your own—the tenderness of the maidenly, the protectiveness of the + maternal. She carried with her a wholesome fragrance and beauty as of an + orchard, and while she sat there I thought of the engaging words: + </p> + <p> + “Thou art to me like a basket of summer fruit, and I seek thee in thy + cottage by the vineyard, fenced about with good commendable trees.” + </p> + <p> + Of my release she spoke thus: “Monsieur Doltaire is to be conveyed + overland to the coast en route for France, and he sent me by his valet a + small arrow studded with emeralds and pearls, and a skull all polished, + with a message that the arrow was for myself, and the skull for another—remembrances + of the past, and earnests of the future—truly an insolent and wicked + man. When he was gone I went to the Governor, and, with great show of + interest in many things pertaining to the government (for he has ever been + flattered by my attentions—me, poor little bee in the buzzing + hive!), came to the question of the English prisoner. I told him it was I + that prevented the disgrace to his good government by sending to General + Montcalm to ask for your protection. + </p> + <p> + “He was deeply impressed, and he opened out his vain heart in divers ways. + But I may not tell you of these—only what concerns yourself; the + rest belongs to his honour. When he was in his most pliable mood, I grew + deeply serious, and told him there was a danger which perhaps he did not + see. Here was this English prisoner, who, they said abroad in the town, + was dying. There was no doubt that the King would approve the sentence of + death, and if it were duly and with some display enforced, it would but + add to the Governor’s reputation in France. But should the prisoner die in + captivity, or should he go an invalid to the scaffold, there would only be + pity excited in the world for him. For his own honour, it were better the + Governor should hang a robust prisoner, who in full blood should expiate + his sins upon the scaffold. The advice went down like wine; and when he + knew not what to do, I urged your being brought here, put under guard, and + fed and nourished for your end. And so it was. + </p> + <p> + “The Governor’s counsellor in the matter will remain a secret, for by now + he will be sure that he himself had the sparkling inspiration. There, dear + Robert, is the present climax to many months of suspense and persecution, + the like of which I hope I may never see again. Some time I will tell you + all: those meetings with Monsieur Doltaire, his designs and approaches, + his pleadings and veiled threats, his numberless small seductions of + words, manners, and deeds, his singular changes of mood, when I was + uncertain what would happen next; the part I had to play to know all that + was going on in the Chateau St. Louis, in the Intendance, and with General + Montcalm; the difficulties with my own people; the despair of my poor + father, who does not know that it is I who have kept him from trouble by + my influence with the Governor. For since the Governor and the Intendant + are reconciled, he takes sides with General Montcalm, the one sound + gentleman in office in this poor country—alas!” + </p> + <p> + Soon afterwards we parted. As she passed out she told me I might at any + hour expect a visit from the Governor. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XX. UPON THE RAMPARTS + </h2> + <p> + The Governor visited me. His attitude was marked by nothing so much as a + supercilious courtesy, a manner which said, You must see I am not to be + trifled with; and though I have you here in my chateau, it is that I may + make a fine scorching of you in the end. He would make of me an example to + amaze and instruct the nations—when I was robust enough to die. + </p> + <p> + I might easily have flattered myself on being an object of interest to the + eyes of nations. I almost pitied him; for he appeared so lost in + self-admiration and the importance of his office that he would never see + disaster when it came. + </p> + <p> + “There is but one master here in Canada,” he said, “and I am he. If things + go wrong it is because my orders are not obeyed. Your people have taken + Louisburg; had I been there, it should never have been given up. Drucour + was hasty—he listened to the women. I should allow no woman to move + me. I should be inflexible. They might send two Amhersts and two Wolfes + against me, I would hold my fortress.” + </p> + <p> + “They will never send two, your Excellency,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He did not see the irony, and he prattled on: “That Wolfe, they tell me, + is bandy-legged; is no better than a girl at sea, and never well ashore. I + am always in raw health—the strong mind in the potent body. Had I + been at Louisburg, I should have held it, as I held Ticonderoga last July, + and drove the English back with monstrous slaughter.” + </p> + <p> + Here was news. I had had no information in many months, and all at once + two great facts were brought to me. + </p> + <p> + “Your Excellency, then, was at Ticonderoga?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “I sent Montcalm to defend it,” he replied pompously. “I told him how he + must act; I was explicit, and it came out as I had said: we were + victorious. Yet he would have done better had he obeyed me in everything. + If I had been at Louisburg—” + </p> + <p> + I could not at first bring myself to flatter the vice-regal peacock; for + it had been my mind to fight these Frenchmen always; to yield in nothing; + to defeat them like a soldier, not like a juggler. But I brought myself to + say half ironically, “If all great men had capable instruments, they would + seldom fail.” + </p> + <p> + “You have touched the heart of the matter,” he said credulously. “It is a + pity,” he added, with complacent severity, “that you have been so + misguided and criminal; you have, in some things, more sense than folly.” + </p> + <p> + I bowed as to a compliment from a great man. Then, all at once, I spoke to + him with an air of apparent frankness, and said that if I must die, I + cared to do so like a gentleman, with some sort of health, and not like an + invalid. He must admit that at least I was no coward. He might fence me + about with what guards he chose, but I prayed him to let me walk upon the + ramparts, when I was strong enough to be abroad, under all due espionage. + I had already suffered many deaths, I said, and I would go to the final + one looking like a man, and not like an outcast of humanity. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I have heard this before,” said he. “Monsieur Doltaire, who is in + prison here, and is to fare on to the Bastile, was insolent enough to send + me message yesterday that I should keep you close in your dungeon. But I + had had enough of Monsieur Doltaire; and indeed it was through me that the + Grande Marquise had him called to durance. He was a muddler here. They + must not interfere with me; I am not to be cajoled or crossed in my plans. + We shall see, we shall see about the ramparts,” he continued. “Meanwhile + prepare to die.” This he said with such importance that I almost laughed + in his face. But I bowed with a sort of awed submission, and he turned and + left the room. + </p> + <p> + I grew stronger slowly day by day, but it was quite a month before Alixe + came again. Sometimes I saw her walking on the banks of the river, and I + was sure she was there that I might see her, though she made no sign + towards me, nor ever seemed to look towards my window. + </p> + <p> + Spring was now fully come. The snow had gone from the ground, the tender + grass was springing, the air was so soft and kind. One fine day, at the + beginning of May, I heard the booming of cannons and a great shouting, + and, looking out, I could see crowds of people upon the banks, and many + boats in the river, where yet the ice had not entirely broken up. By + stretching from my window, through the bars of which I could get my head, + but not my body, I noted a squadron sailing round the point of the Island + of Orleans. I took it to be a fleet from France bearing re-enforcements + and supplies—as indeed afterwards I found was so; but the + re-enforcements were so small and the supplies so limited that it is said + Montcalm, when he knew, cried out, “Now is all lost! Nothing remains but + to fight and die. I shall see my beloved Candiac no more.” + </p> + <p> + For the first time all the English colonies had combined against Canada. + Vaudreuil and Montcalm were at variance, and Vaudreuil had, through his + personal hatred and envy of Montcalm, signed the death-warrant of the + colony by writing to the colonial minister that Montcalm’s agents, going + for succour, were not to be trusted. Yet at that moment I did not know + these things, and the sight made me grave, though it made me sure also + that this year would find the British battering this same Chateau. + </p> + <p> + Presently there came word from the Governor that I might walk upon the + ramparts, and I was taken forth for several hours each day; always, + however, under strict surveillance, my guards, well armed, attending, + while the ramparts were, as usual, patrolled by soldiers. I could see that + ample preparations were being made against a siege, and every day the + excitement increased. I got to know more definitely of what was going on, + when, under vigilance, I was allowed to speak to Lieutenant Stevens, who + also was permitted some such freedom as I had enjoyed when I first came to + Quebec. He had private information that General Wolfe or General Amherst + was likely to proceed against Quebec from Louisburg, and he was determined + to join the expedition. + </p> + <p> + For months he had been maturing plans for escape. There was one Clark, a + ship-carpenter (of whom I have before written), and two other bold + spirits, who were sick of captivity, and it was intended to fare forth one + night and make a run for freedom. Clark had had a notable plan. A wreck of + several transports had occurred at Belle Isle, and it was thought to send + him down the river with a sloop to bring back the crew, and break up the + wreck. It was his purpose to arm his sloop with Lieutenant Stevens and + some English prisoners the night before she was to sail, and steal away + with her down the river. But whether or not the authorities suspected him, + the command was given to another. + </p> + <p> + It was proposed, however, on a dark night, to get away to some point on + the river, where a boat should be stationed—though that was a + difficult matter, for the river was well patrolled and boats were scarce—and + drift quietly down the stream, till a good distance below the city. Mr. + Stevens said he had delayed the attempt on the faint hope of fetching me + along. Money, he said, was needed, for Clark and all were very poor, and + common necessaries were now at exorbitant prices in the country. Tyranny + and robbery had made corn and clothing luxuries. All the old tricks of + Bigot and his La Friponne, which, after the outbreak the night of my + arrest at the Seigneur Duvarney’s, had been somewhat repressed, were in + full swing again, and robbery in the name of providing for defense was the + only habit. + </p> + <p> + I managed to convey to Mr. Stevens a good sum of money, and begged him to + meet me every day upon the ramparts, until I also should see my way to + making a dart for freedom. I advised him in many ways, for he was more + bold than shrewd, and I made him promise that he would not tell Clark or + the others that I was to make trial to go with them. I feared the accident + of disclosure, and any new failure on my part to get away would, I knew, + mean my instant death, consent of King or no consent. + </p> + <p> + One evening, a soldier entered my room, whom in the half-darkness I did + not recognize, till a voice said, “There’s orders new! Not dungeon now, + but this room Governor bespeaks for gentlemen from France.” + </p> + <p> + “And where am I to go, Gabord?” + </p> + <p> + “Where you will have fighting,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “With whom?” + </p> + <p> + “Yourself, aho!” A queer smile crossed his lips, and was followed by a + sort of sternness. There was something graver in his manner than I had + ever seen. I could not guess his meaning. At last he added, pulling + roughly at his mustache, “And when that’s done, if not well done, to + answer to Gabord the soldier; for, God take my soul without bed-going, but + I will call you to account! That Seigneur’s home is no place for you.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak in riddles,” said I. Then all at once the matter burst upon me. + “The Governor quarters me at the Seigneur Duvarney’s?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “No other,” answered he. “In three days to go.” + </p> + <p> + I understood him now. He had had a struggle, knowing of the relations + between Alixe and myself, to avoid telling the Governor all. And now, if I + involved her, used her to effect my escape from her father’s house! Even + his peasant brain saw my difficulty, the danger to my honour—and + hers. In spite of the joy I felt at being near her, seeing her, I shrank + from the situation. If I escaped from the Seigneur Duvarney’s, it would + throw suspicion upon him, upon Alixe, and that made me stand abashed. + Inside the Seigneur Duvarney’s house I should now feel unhappy, bound to + certain calls of honour concerning his daughter and himself. I stood long, + thinking, Gabord watching me. + </p> + <p> + Finally, “Gabord,” said I, “I give you my word of honour that I will not + put Mademoiselle or Monsieur Duvarney in peril.” + </p> + <p> + “You will not try to escape?” + </p> + <p> + “Not to use them for escape. To elude my guards, to fight my way to + liberty—yes—yes—yes!” + </p> + <p> + “But that mends not. Who’s to know the lady did not help you?” + </p> + <p> + “You. You are to be my jailer again there?” + </p> + <p> + He nodded, and fell to pulling his mustache. “‘Tis not enough,” he said + decisively. + </p> + <p> + “Come, then,” said I, “I will strike a bargain with you. If you will grant + me one thing, I will give my word of honour not to escape from the + seigneur’s house.” + </p> + <p> + “Say on.” + </p> + <p> + “You tell me I am not to go to the seigneur’s for three days yet. Arrange + that mademoiselle may come to me to-morrow at dusk—at six o’clock, + when all the world dines—and I will give my word. No more do I ask + you—only that.” + </p> + <p> + “Done,” said he. “It shall be so.” + </p> + <p> + “You will fetch her yourself?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “On the stroke of six. Guard changes then.” + </p> + <p> + Here our talk ended. He went, and I plunged deep into my great plan; for + all at once, as we had talked, came a thing to me which I shall make clear + ere long. I set my wits to work. Once since my coming to the chateau I had + been visited by the English chaplain who had been a prisoner at the + citadel the year before. He was now on parole, and had freedom to come and + go in the town. The Governor had said he might visit me on a certain day + every week, at a fixed hour, and the next day at five o’clock was the time + appointed for his second visit. Gabord had promised to bring Alixe to me + at six. + </p> + <p> + The following morning I met Mr. Stevens on the ramparts. I told him it was + my purpose to escape the next night, if possible. If not, I must go to the + Seigneur Duvarney’s, where I should be on parole—to Gabord. I bade + him fulfill my wishes to the letter, for on his boldness and my own, and + the courage of his men, I depended for escape. He declared himself ready + to risk all, and die in the attempt, if need be, for he was sick of + idleness. He could, he said, mature his plans that day, if he had more + money. I gave him secretly a small bag of gold, and then I made explicit + note of what I required of him: that he should tie up in a loose but safe + bundle a sheet, a woman’s skirt, some river grasses and reeds, some + phosphorus, a pistol and a knife, and some saltpetre and other chemicals. + That evening, about nine o’clock, which was the hour the guard changed, he + was to tie this bundle to a string which I let down from my window, and I + would draw it up. Then, the night following, the others must steal away to + that place near Sillery—the west side of the town was always ill + guarded—and wait there with a boat. He should see me at a certain + point on the ramparts, and, well armed, we also would make our way to + Sillery, and from the spot called the Anse du Foulon drift down the river + in the dead of night. + </p> + <p> + He promised to do all as I wished. + </p> + <p> + The rest of the day I spent in my room fashioning strange toys out of + willow rods. I had got these rods from my guards, to make whistles for + their children, and they had carried away many of them. But now, with + pieces of a silk handkerchief tied to the whistle and filled with air, I + made a toy which, when squeezed, sent out a weird lament. Once when my + guard came in, I pressed one of these things in my pocket, and it gave + forth a sort of smothered cry, like a sick child. At this he started, and + looked round the room in trepidation; for, of all peoples, these Canadian + Frenchmen are the most superstitious, and may be worked on without limit. + The cry had seemed to come from a distance. I looked around, also, and + appeared serious, and he asked me if I had heard the thing before. + </p> + <p> + “Once or twice,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Then you are a dead man,” said he; “‘tis a warning, that!” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe it is not I, but one of you,” I answered. Then, with a sort of + hush, “Is’t like the cry of La Jongleuse?” I added. (La Jongleuse is their + fabled witch, or spirit, of disaster.) + </p> + <p> + He nodded his head, crossed himself, mumbled a prayer, and turned to go, + but came back. “I’ll fetch a crucifix,” he said. “You are a heathen, and + you bring her here. She is the devil’s dam.” + </p> + <p> + He left with a scared face, and I laughed to myself quietly, for I saw + success ahead of me. True to his word, he brought a crucifix and put it up—not + where he wished, but, at my request, opposite the door, upon the wall. He + crossed himself before it, and was most devout. + </p> + <p> + It looked singular to see this big, rough soldier, who was in most things + a swaggerer, so childlike in all that touched his religion. With this you + could fetch him to his knees; with it I would cow him that I might myself + escape. + </p> + <p> + At half past five the chaplain came, having been delayed by the guard to + have his order indorsed by Captain Lancy of the Governor’s household. To + him I told my plans so far as I thought he should know them, and then I + explained what I wished him to do. He was grave and thoughtful for some + minutes, but at last consented. He was a pious man, and of as honest a + heart as I have known, albeit narrow and confined, which sprang perhaps + from his provincial practice and his theological cutting and trimming. We + were in the midst of a serious talk, wherein I urged him upon matters + which shall presently be set forth, when there came a noise outside. I + begged him to retire to the alcove where my bed was, and draw the curtain + for a few moments, nor come forth until I called. He did so, yet I thought + it hurt his sense of dignity to be shifted to a bedroom. + </p> + <p> + As he disappeared the door opened, and Gabord and Alixe entered. “One half + hour,” said Gabord, and went out again. + </p> + <p> + Presently Alixe told me her story. + </p> + <p> + “I have not been idle, Robert, but I could not act, for my father and + mother suspect my love for you. I have come but little to the chateau + without them, and I was closely watched. I knew not how the thing would + end, but I kept up my workings with the Governor, which is easier now + Monsieur Doltaire is gone, and I got you the freedom to walk upon the + ramparts. Well, once before my father suspected me, I said that if his + Excellency disliked your being in the Chateau, you could be as well + guarded in my father’s house, with sentinels always there, until you + could, in better health, be taken to the common jail again. What was my + surprise when yesterday came word to my father that he should make ready + to receive you as a prisoner; being sure that he, his Excellency’s cousin, + the father of the man you had injured, and the most loyal of Frenchmen, + would guard you diligently; he now needed all extra room in the Chateau + for the entertainment of gentlemen and officers lately come from France. + </p> + <p> + “When my father got the news, he was thrown into dismay. He knew not what + to do. On what ground could he refuse the Governor? Yet when he thought of + me he felt it his duty to do so. Again, on what ground could he refuse + this boon to you, to whom we all owe the blessing of his life? On my + brother’s account? But my brother has written to my father justifying you, + and magnanimously praising you as a man, while hating you as an English + soldier. On my account? But he could not give this reason to the Governor. + As for me, I was silent, I waited—and I wait; I know not what will + be the end. Meanwhile preparations go on to receive you.” + </p> + <p> + I could see that Alixe’s mood was more tranquil since Doltaire was gone. A + certain restlessness had vanished. Her manner had much dignity, and every + movement a peculiar grace and elegance. She was dressed in a soft cloth of + a gray tone, touched off with red and slashed with gold, and a cloak of + gray, trimmed with fur, with bright silver buckles, hung loosely on her, + thrown off at one shoulder. There was a sweet disorder in the hair, which + indeed was prettiest when freest. + </p> + <p> + When she had finished speaking, she looked at me, as I thought, with a + little anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “Alixe,” I said, “we have come to the cross-roads, and the way we choose + now is for all time.” + </p> + <p> + She looked up, startled, yet governing herself, and her hand sought mine + and nestled there. “I feel that, too,” she replied. “What is it, Robert?” + </p> + <p> + “I can not in honour escape from your father’s house. I can not steal his + daughter and his safety too—” + </p> + <p> + “You must escape,” she interrupted firmly. + </p> + <p> + “From here, from the citadel, from anywhere but your house; and so I will + not go to it.” + </p> + <p> + “You will not go to it?” she repeated slowly and strangely. “How may you + not? You are a prisoner. If they make my father your jailer—” She + laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I owe that jailer and that jailer’s daughter—” + </p> + <p> + “You owe them your safety and your freedom. Oh, Robert, I know, I know + what you mean. But what care I what the world may think by-and-bye, or + to-morrow, or to-day? My conscience is clear.” + </p> + <p> + “Your father—” I persisted. + </p> + <p> + She nodded. “Yes, yes, you speak truth, alas! And yet you must be freed. + And”—here she got to her feet, and with flashing eyes spoke out—“and + you shall be set free. Let come what will, I owe my first duty to you, + though all the world chatter; and I will not stir from that. As soon as I + can make it possible, you shall escape.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall have the right to set me free,” said I, “if I must go to your + father’s house. And if I do not go there, but out to my own good country, + you shall still have the right before all the world to follow, or to wait + till I come to fetch you.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand you, Robert,” said she. “I do not—” Here she + broke off, looking, looking at me, and trembling a little. + </p> + <p> + Then I stooped and whispered softly in her ear. She gave a little cry, and + drew back from me; yet instantly her hand came out and caught my arm. + </p> + <p> + “Robert, Robert! I can not, I dare not!” she cried softly. “No, no, it may + not be,” she added in a whisper of fear. + </p> + <p> + I went to the alcove, drew back the curtain, and asked Mr. Wainfleet to + step forth. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said I, picking up my Prayer Book and putting it in his hands, “I + beg you to marry this lady and myself.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, dazed. “Marry you—here—now?” he asked shakingly. + </p> + <p> + “Before ten minutes go round, this lady must be my wife,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Duvarney, you—” he began. + </p> + <p> + “Be pleased, dear sir, to open the book at ‘Wilt thou have,’” said I. “The + lady is a Catholic; she has not the consent of her people; but when she is + my wife, made so by you, whose consent need we ask? Can you not tie us + fast enough, a man and woman of sense sufficient, but you must pause here? + Is the knot you tie safe against picking and stealing?” + </p> + <p> + I had touched his vanity and his ecclesiasticism. “Married by me,” he + replied, “once chaplain to the Bishop of London, you have a knot that no + sword can cut. I am in full orders. My parish is in Boston itself.” + </p> + <p> + “You will hand a certificate to my wife to-morrow, and you will uphold + this marriage against all gossip?” asked I. + </p> + <p> + “Against all France and all England,” he answered, roused now. + </p> + <p> + “Then come,” I urged. + </p> + <p> + “But I must have a witness,” he interposed, opening the book. + </p> + <p> + “You shall have one in due time,” said I. “Go on. When the marriage is + performed, and at the point where you shall proclaim us man and wife, I + will have a witness.” + </p> + <p> + I turned to Alixe, and found her pale and troubled. “Oh, Robert, Robert!” + she cried, “it can not be. Now, now I am afraid, for the first time in my + life, clear, the first time!” + </p> + <p> + “Dearest lass in the world,” I said, “it must be. I shall not go to your + father’s. To-morrow night, I make my great stroke for freedom, and when I + am free I shall return to fetch my wife.” + </p> + <p> + “You will try to escape from here to-morrow?” she asked, her face flushing + finely. + </p> + <p> + “I will escape or die,” I answered; “but I shall not think of death. Come—come + and say with me that we shall part no more—in spirit no more; that, + whatever comes, you and I have fulfilled our great hope, though under the + shadow of the sword.” + </p> + <p> + At that she put her hand in mine with pride and sweetness, and said, “I am + ready, Robert. I give my heart, my life, and my honour to you—forever.” + </p> + <p> + Then, with great sweetness and solemnity she turned to the clergyman: + “Sir, my honour is also in your hands. If you have mother or sister, or + any care of souls upon you, I pray you, in the future act as becomes good + men.” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle,” he said earnestly, “I am risking my freedom, maybe my + life, in this; do you think—” + </p> + <p> + Here she took his hand and pressed it. “Ah, I ask your pardon. I am of a + different faith from you, and I have known how men forget when they should + remember.” She smiled at him so perfectly that he drew himself up with + pride. + </p> + <p> + “Make haste, sir,” said I. “Jailers are curious folk.” + </p> + <p> + The room was not yet lighted, the evening shadows were creeping in, and up + out of the town came the ringing of the vesper bell from the church of the + Recollets. For a moment there was stillness in the room and all around us, + and then the chaplain began in a low voice: “I require and charge you both—” + and so on. In a few moments I had made the great vow, and had put on + Alixe’s finger a ring which the clergyman drew from his own hand. Then we + knelt down, and I know we both prayed most fervently with the good man + that we might “ever remain in perfect love and perfect peace together.” + </p> + <p> + Rising, he paused, and I went to the door and knocked upon it. It was + opened by Gabord. “Come in, Gabord,” said I. “There is a thing that you + must hear.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped back and got a light, and then entered, holding it up, and + shutting the door. A strange look came upon his face when he saw the + chaplain, and a stranger when, stepping beside Alixe, I took her hand, and + Mr. Wainfleet declared us man and wife. He stood like one dumfounded, and + he did not stir as Alixe, turning to me, let me kiss her on the lips, and + then went to the crucifix on the wall and embraced the feet of it, and + stood for a moment, praying. Nor did he move or make a sign till she came + back and stood beside me. + </p> + <p> + “A pretty scene!” he burst forth then with anger. “But, by God! no + marriage is it!” + </p> + <p> + Alixe’s hand tightened on my arm, and she drew close to me. + </p> + <p> + “A marriage that will stand at Judgment Day, Gabord,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “But not in France or here. ‘Tis mating wild, with end of doom.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a marriage our great Archbishop at Lambeth Palace will uphold + against a hundred popes and kings,” said the chaplain with importance. + </p> + <p> + “You are no priest, but holy peddler!” cried Gabord roughly. “This is not + mating as Christians, and fires of hell shall burn—aho! I will see + you all go down, and hand of mine shall not be lifted for you!” + </p> + <p> + He puffed out his cheeks, and his great eyes rolled so like fire-wheels. + </p> + <p> + “You are a witness to this ceremony,” said the chaplain. “And you shall + answer to your God, but you must speak the truth for this man and wife.” + </p> + <p> + “Man and wife?” laughed Gabord wildly. “May I die and be damned to—” + </p> + <p> + Like a flash Alixe was beside him, and put to his lips most swiftly the + little wooden cross that Mathilde had given her. + </p> + <p> + “Gabord, Gabord,” she said in a sweet, sad voice, “when you may come to + die, a girl’s prayers will be waiting at God’s feet for you.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped, and stared at her. Her hand lay on his arm, and she continued: + “No night gives me sleep, Gabord, but I pray for the jailer who has been + kind to an ill-treated gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “A juggling gentleman, that cheats Gabord before his eyes, and smuggles in + a mongrel priest!” he blustered. + </p> + <p> + I waved my hand at the chaplain, or I think he would have put his Prayer + Book to rougher use than was its wont, and I was about to answer, but + Alixe spoke instead, and to greater purpose than I could have done. Her + whole mood changed, her face grew still and proud, her eyes flashed + bravely. + </p> + <p> + “Gabord,” she said, “vanity speaks in you there, not honesty. No gentleman + here is a juggler. No kindness you may have done warrants insolence. You + have the power to bring great misery on us, and you may have the will, + but, by God’s help, both my husband and myself shall be delivered from + cruel hands. At any moment I may stand alone in the world, friends, + people, the Church, and all the land against me: if you desire to haste + that time, to bring me to disaster, because you would injure my husband,”—how + sweet the name sounded on her lips!—“then act, but do not insult us. + But no, no,” she broke off softly, “you spoke in temper, you meant it not, + you were but vexed with us for the moment. Dear Gabord,” she added, “did + we not know that if we had asked you first, you would have refused us? You + care so much for me, you would have feared my linking my life and fate + with one—” + </p> + <p> + “With one the death-man has in hand, to pay price for wicked deed,” he + interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “With one innocent of all dishonour, a gentleman wronged every way. + Gabord, you know it so, for you have guarded him and fought with him, and + you are an honourable gentleman,” she added gently. + </p> + <p> + “No gentleman I,” he burst forth, “but jailer base, and soldier born upon + a truss of hay. But honour is an apple any man may eat since Adam walked + in garden.... ‘Tis honest foe, here,” he continued magnanimously, and + nodded towards me. + </p> + <p> + “We would have told you all,” she said, “but how dare we involve you, or + how dare we tempt you, or how dare we risk your refusal? It was love and + truth drove us to this; and God will bless this mating as the birds mate, + even as He gives honour to Gabord who was born upon a truss of hay.” + </p> + <p> + “Poom!” said Gabord, puffing out his cheeks, and smiling on her with a + look half sour, and yet with a doglike fondness, “Gabord’s mouth is shut + till ‘s head is off, and then to tell the tale to Twelve Apostles!” + </p> + <p> + Through his wayward, illusive speech we found his meaning. He would keep + faith with us, and be best proof of this marriage, at risk of his head + even. + </p> + <p> + As we spoke, the chaplain was writing in the blank fore-pages of the + Prayer Book. Presently he said to me, handing me the pen, which he had + picked from a table, “Inscribe your names here. It is a rough record of + the ceremony, but it will suffice before all men, when to-morrow I have + given Mistress Moray another record.” + </p> + <p> + We wrote our names, and then the pen was handed to Gabord. He took it, and + at last, with many flourishes and ahos, and by dint of puffings and + rolling eyes, he wrote his name so large that it filled as much space as + the other names and all the writing, and was indeed like a huge + indorsement across the record. + </p> + <p> + When this was done, Alixe held out her hand to him. “Will you kiss me, + Gabord?” she said. + </p> + <p> + The great soldier was all taken back. He flushed like a schoolboy, yet a + big humour and pride looked out of his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I owe you for the sables, too,” she said. “But kiss me—not on my + ears, as the Russian count kissed Gabord, but on both cheek.” + </p> + <p> + This won him to our cause utterly, and I never think of Gabord, as I saw + him last in the sway and carnage of battle, fighting with wild uproar and + covered with wounds, but the memory of that moment, when he kissed my + young wife, comes back to me. + </p> + <p> + At that he turned to leave. “I’ll hold the door for ten minutes,” he + added; and bowed to the chaplain, who blessed us then with tears in his + eyes, and smiled a little to my thanks and praises and purse of gold, and + to Alixe’s sweet gratitude. With lifting chin—good honest gentleman, + who afterwards proved his fidelity and truth—he said that he would + die to uphold this sacred ceremony. And so he made a little speech, as if + he had a pulpit round him, and he wound up with a benediction which sent + my dear girl to tears and soft trembling: + </p> + <p> + “The Lord bless you and keep you: the Lord make his face to shine upon + you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace now and + for evermore.” + </p> + <p> + A moment afterwards the door closed, and for ten minutes I looked into my + wife’s face, and told her my plans for escape. When Gabord opened the door + upon us, we had passed through years of understanding and resolve. Our + parting was brave—a bravery on her side that I do not think any + other woman could match. She was quivering with the new life come upon + her, yet she was self-controlled; she moved as in a dream, yet I knew her + mind was alert, vigilant, and strong; she was aching with thought of this + separation, with the peril that faced us both, yet she carried a quiet joy + in her face, a tranquil gravity of bearing. + </p> + <p> + “Whom God hath joined—” said I gravely at the last. + </p> + <p> + “Let no man put asunder,” she answered softly and solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “Aho!” said Gabord, and turned his head away. + </p> + <p> + Then the door shut upon me, and though I am no Catholic, I have no shame + in saying that I kissed the feet on the crucifix which her lips had + blessed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXI. LA JONGLEUSE + </h2> + <p> + At nine o’clock I was waiting by the window, and even as a bugle sounded + “lights out” in the barracks and change of guard, I let the string down. + Mr. Stevens shot round the corner of the chateau, just as the departing + sentinel disappeared, and attached a bundle to the string, and I drew it + up. + </p> + <p> + “Is all well?” I called softly down. + </p> + <p> + “All well,” said Mr. Stevens, and, hugging the wall of the chateau, he + sped away. In another moment a new sentinel began pacing up and down, and + I shut the window and untied my bundle. All that I had asked for was + there. I hid the things away in the alcove and went to bed at once, for I + knew that I should have no sleep on the following night. + </p> + <p> + I did not leave my bed till the morning was well advanced. Once or twice + during the day I brought my guards in with fear on their faces, the large + fat man more distorted than his fellow, by the lamentable sounds I made + with my willow toys. They crossed themselves again and again, and I myself + appeared devout and troubled. When we walked abroad during the afternoon, + I chose to saunter by the river rather than walk, for I wished to conserve + my strength, which was now vastly increased, though, to mislead my + watchers and the authorities, I assumed the delicacy of an invalid, and + appeared unfit for any enterprise—no hard task, for I was still very + thin and worn. + </p> + <p> + So I sat upon a favourite seat on the cliff, set against a solitary tree, + fixed in the rocks. I gazed long on the river, and my guards, stoutly + armed, stood near, watching me, and talking in low tones. Eager to hear + their gossip, I appeared to sleep. They came nearer, and, facing me, sat + upon a large stone, and gossiped freely concerning the strange sounds + heard in my room at the chateau. + </p> + <p> + “See you, my Bamboir,” said the lean to the fat soldier, “the British + captain, he is to be carried off in burning flames by that La Jongleuse. + We shall come in one morning and find a smell of sulphur only, and a + circle of red on the floor where the imps danced before La Jongleuse said + to them, ‘Up with him, darlings, and away!’” + </p> + <p> + At this Bamboir shook his head, and answered, “To-morrow I’ll to the + Governor, and tell him what’s coming. My wife, she falls upon my neck this + morning. ‘Argose,’ she says, ‘‘twill need the bishop and his college to + drive La Jongleuse out of the grand chateau.’” + </p> + <p> + “No less,” replied the other. “A deacon and sacred palm and sprinkle of + holy water would do for a cottage, or even for a little manor house, with + twelve candles burning, and a hymn to the Virgin. But in a king’s house—” + </p> + <p> + “It’s not the King’s house.” + </p> + <p> + “But yes, it is the King’s house, though his Most Christian Majesty lives + in France. The Marquis de Vaudreuil stands for the King, and we are + sentinels in the King’s house. But, my faith, I’d rather be fighting + against Frederick, the Prussian boar, than watching this mad Englishman.” + </p> + <p> + “But see you, my brother, that Englishman’s a devil. Else how has he not + been hanged long ago? He has vile arts to blind all, or he would not be + sitting there. It is well known that M’sieu’ Doltaire, even the King’s son—his + mother worked in the fields like your Nanette, Bamboir—” + </p> + <p> + “Or your Lablanche, my friend. She has hard hands, with warts, and red + knuckles therefrom—” + </p> + <p> + “Or your Nanette, Bamboir, with nose that blisters in the summer, as she + goes swingeing flax, and swelling feet that sweat in sabots, and chin + thrust out from carrying pails upon her head—” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, like Nanette and like Lablanche, this peasant mother of M’sieu’ + Doltaire, and maybe no such firm breasts like Nanette—” + </p> + <p> + “Nor such an eye as has Lablanche. Well, M’sieu’ Doltaire, who could + override them all, he could not kill this barbarian. And Gabord—you + know well how they fought, and the black horse and his rider came and + carried him away. Why, the young M’sieu’ Duvarney had him on his knees, + the blade at his throat, and a sword flashed out from the dark—they + say it was the devil’s—and took him in the ribs and well-nigh killed + him.” + </p> + <p> + “But what say you to Ma’m’selle Duvarney coming to him that day, and again + yesterday with Gabord?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, who knows, Bamboir? This morning I said to Nanette, ‘Why + is’t, all in one moment, you send me to the devil, and pray to meet me in + Abraham’s bosom too?’ What think you she answered me? Why, this, my + Bamboir: ‘Why is’t Adam loved his wife and swore her down before the Lord + also, all in one moment?’ Why Ma’m’selle Duvarney does this or that is not + for muddy brains like ours. It is some whimsy. They say that women are + more curious about the devil than about St. Jean Baptiste. Perhaps she got + of him a magic book.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! If he had the magic Petit Albert, he would have turned us into + dogs long ago. But I do not like him. He is but thirty years, they say, + and yet his hair is white as a pigeon’s wing. It is not natural. Nor did + he ever, says Gabord, do aught but laugh at everything they did to him. + The chains they put would not stay, and when he was set against the wall + to be shot, the watches stopped—the minute of his shooting passed. + Then M’sieu’ Doltaire came, and said a man that could do a trick like that + should live to do another. And he did it, for M’sieu’ Doltaire is gone to + the Bastile. Voyez, this Englishman is a damned heretic, and has the + wicked arts.” + </p> + <p> + “But see, Bamboir, do you think he can cast spells?” + </p> + <p> + “What mean those sounds from his room?” + </p> + <p> + “So, so. But if he be a friend of the devil, La Jongleuse would not come + for him, but—” + </p> + <p> + Startled and excited, they grasped each other’s arms. “But for us—for + us!” + </p> + <p> + “It would be a work of God to send him to the devil,” said Bamboir in a + loud whisper. “He has given us trouble enough. Who can tell what comes + next? Those damned noises in his room, eh—eh?” + </p> + <p> + Then they whispered together, and presently I caught a fragment, by which + I understood that, as we walked near the edge of the cliff, I should be + pushed over, and they would make it appear that I had drowned myself. + </p> + <p> + They talked in low tones again, but soon got louder, and presently I knew + that they were speaking of La Jongleuse; and Bamboir—the fat + Bamboir, who the surgeon had said would some day die of apoplexy—was + rash enough to say that he had seen her. He described her accurately, with + the spirit of the born raconteur: + </p> + <p> + “Hair so black as the feather in the Governor’s hat, and green eyes that + flash fire, and a brown face with skin all scales. Oh, my saints of + Heaven, when she pass I hide my head, and I go cold like stone. She is all + covered with long reeds and lilies about her head and shoulders, and + blue-red sparks fly up at every step. Flames go round her, and she burns + not her robe—not at all. And as she go, I hear cries that make me + sick, for it is, I said, some poor man in torture, and I think, perhaps it + is Jacques Villon, perhaps Jean Rivas, perhaps Angele Damgoche. But no, it + is a young priest of St. Clair, for he is never seen again—never!” + </p> + <p> + In my mind I commended this fat Bamboir as an excellent story-teller, and + thanked him for his true picture of La Jongleuse, whom, to my regret, I + had never seen. I would not forget his stirring description, as he should + see. I gave point to the tale by squeezing an inflated toy in my pocket, + with my arm, while my hands remained folded in front of me; and it was as + good as a play to see the faces of these soldiers, as they sprang to their + feet, staring round in dismay. I myself seemed to wake with a start, and, + rising to my feet, I asked what meant the noise and their amazement. We + were in a spot where we could not easily be seen from any distance, and no + one was in sight, nor were we to be remarked from the fort. They exchanged + looks, as I started back towards the chateau, walking very near the edge + of the cliff. A spirit of bravado came on me, and I said musingly to them + as we walked: + </p> + <p> + “It would be easy to throw you both over the cliff, but I love you too + well. I have proved that by making toys for your children.” + </p> + <p> + It was as cordial to me to watch their faces. They both drew away from the + cliff, and grasped their firearms apprehensively. + </p> + <p> + “My God,” said Bamboir, “those toys shall be burned to-night. Alphonse has + the smallpox and Susanne the croup—damned devil!” he added + furiously, stepping forward to me with gun raised, “I’ll—” + </p> + <p> + I believe he would have shot me, but that I said quickly, “If you did harm + to me you’d come to the rope. The Governor would rather lose a hand than + my life.” + </p> + <p> + I pushed his musket down. “Why should you fret? I am leaving the chateau + to-morrow for another prison. You fools, d’ye think I’d harm the children? + I know as little of the devil or La Jongleuse as do you. We’ll solve the + witcheries of these sounds, you and I, to-night. If they come, we’ll say + the Lord’s Prayer, and make the sacred gesture, and if it goes not, we + will have one of your good priests to drive out this whining spirit.” + </p> + <p> + This quieted them much, and I was glad of it, for they had looked + bloodthirsty enough, and though I had a weapon on me, there was little use + in seeking fighting or flight till the auspicious moment. They were not + satisfied, however, and they watched me diligently as we came on to the + chateau. + </p> + <p> + I could not bear that they should be frightened about their children, so I + said: + </p> + <p> + “Make for me a sacred oath, and I will swear by it that those toys will do + your children no harm.” + </p> + <p> + I drew out the little wooden cross that Mathilde had given me, and held it + up. They looked at me astonished. What should I, a heretic and a + Protestant, do with this sacred emblem? “This never leaves me,” said I; + “it was a pious gift.” + </p> + <p> + I raised the cross to my lips, and kissed it. + </p> + <p> + “That’s well,” said Bamboir to his comrade. “If otherwise, he should have + been struck down by the Avenging Angel.” + </p> + <p> + We got back to the chateau without more talk, and I was locked in, while + my guards retired. As soon as they had gone I got to work, for my great + enterprise was at hand. + </p> + <p> + At ten o’clock I was ready for the venture. When the critical moment came, + I was so arrayed that my dearest friend would not have known me. My object + was to come out upon my guards as La Jongleuse, and, in the fright and + confusion which should follow, make my escape through the corridors and to + the entrance doors, past the sentinels, and so on out. It may be seen now + why I got the woman’s garb, the sheet, the horsehair, the phosphorus, the + reeds, and such things; why I secured the knife and pistol may be guessed + likewise. Upon the lid of a small stove in the room I placed my saltpetre, + and I rubbed the horsehair on my head with phosphorus, also on my hands, + and face, and feet, and on many objects in the room. The knife and pistol + were at my hand, and when the clock struck ten, I set my toys to wailing. + </p> + <p> + Then I knocked upon the door with solemn taps, hurried back to the stove, + and waited for the door to open before I applied the match. I heard a + fumbling at the lock, then the door was thrown wide open. All was darkness + in the hall without, save for a spluttering candle which Bamboir held over + his head, as he and his fellow, deadly pale, stood peering forward. + Suddenly they gave a cry, for I threw the sheet from my face and + shoulders, and to their excited imagination La Jongleuse stood before + them, all in flames. As I started down on them, the coloured fire flew up, + making the room all blue and scarlet for a moment, in which I must have + looked devilish indeed, with staring eyes, and outstretched chalky hands, + and wailing cries coming from my robe. + </p> + <p> + I moved swiftly, and Bamboir, without a cry, dropped like a log (poor + fellow, he never rose again! the apoplexy which the surgeon promised had + come), his comrade gave a cry, and sank in a heap in a corner, mumbling a + prayer, and making the sign of the cross, his face stark with terror. + </p> + <p> + I passed him, came along the corridor and down one staircase, without + seeing any one; then two soldiers appeared in the half-lighted hallway. + Presently also a door opened behind me, and some one came out. By now the + phosphorus light diminished a little, but still I was a villainous + picture, for in one hand I held a small cup from which suddenly sprang red + and blue fires. The men fell back, and I sailed past them, but I had not + gone far down the lower staircase when a shot rang after me, and a bullet + passed by my head. Now I came rapidly to the outer door, where two more + sentinels stood. They shrank back, and suddenly one threw down his musket + and ran; the other, terrified, stood stock-still. I passed him, opened the + door, and came out upon the Intendant, who was just alighting from his + carriage. + </p> + <p> + The horses sprang away, frightened at sight of me, and nearly threw Bigot + to the ground. I tossed the tin cup with its chemical fires full in his + face, as he made a dash for me. He called out, and drew his sword. I + wished not to fight, and I sprang aside; but he made a pass at me, and I + drew my pistol and was about to fire, when another shot came from the + hallway and struck him. He fell, almost at my feet, and I dashed away into + the darkness. Fifty feet ahead I cast one glance hack, and saw Monsieur + Cournal standing in the doorway. I was sure that his second shot had not + been meant for me, but for the Intendant—a wild attempt at a + revenge, long delayed, for the worst of wrongs. + </p> + <p> + I ran on, and presently came full upon five soldiers, two of whom drew + their pistols, fired, and missed. Their comrades ran away howling. They + barred my path, and now I fired, too, and brought one down; then came a + shot from behind them, and another fell. The last one took to his heels, + and a moment later I had my hand in that of Mr. Stevens. It was he who had + fired the opportune shot that rid me of one foe. We came quickly along the + river brink, and, skirting the citadel, got clear of it without discovery, + though we could see soldiers hurrying past, roused by the firing at the + chateau. + </p> + <p> + In about half an hour of steady running, with a few bad stumbles and + falls, we reached the old windmill above the Anse du Foulon at Sillery, + and came plump upon our waiting comrades. I had stripped myself of my + disguise, and rubbed the phosphorus from my person as we came along, but + enough remained to make me an uncanny figure. It had been kept secret from + these people that I was to go with them, and they sullenly kept their + muskets raised and cocked; but when Mr. Stevens told them who I was, they + were agreeably surprised. I at once took command of the enterprise, saying + firmly at the same time that I would shoot the first man who disobeyed my + orders. I was sure that I could bring them to safety, but my will must be + law. They took my terms like men, and swore to stand by me. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXII. THE LORD OF KAMARSKA + </h2> + <p> + We were five altogether—Mr. Stevens, Clark, the two Boston soldiers, + and myself; and presently we came down the steep passage in the cliff to + where our craft lay, secured by my dear wife—a birch canoe, well + laden with necessaries. Our craft was none too large for our party, but + she must do; and safely in, we pushed out upon the current, which was in + our favour, for the tide was going out. My object was to cross the river + softly, skirt the Levis shore, pass the Isle of Orleans, and so steal down + the river. There was excitement in the town, as we could tell from the + lights flashing along the shore, and boats soon began to patrol the banks, + going swiftly up and down, and extending a line round to the St. Charles + River towards Beauport. + </p> + <p> + It was well for us the night was dark, else we had run that gantlet. But + we were lucky enough, by hard paddling, to get past the town on the Levis + side. Never were better boatmen. The paddles dropped with agreeable + precision, and no boatswain’s rattan was needed to keep my fellows to + their task. I, whose sight was long trained to darkness, could see a great + distance round us, and so could prevent a trap, though once or twice we + let our canoe drift with the tide, lest our paddles should be heard. I + could not paddle long, I had so little strength. After the Isle of Orleans + was passed, I drew a breath of relief, and played the part of captain and + boatswain merely. + </p> + <p> + Yet when I looked back at the town on those strong heights, and saw the + bonfires burn to warn the settlers of our escape, saw the lights sparkling + in many homes, and even fancied I could make out the light shining in my + dear wife’s window, I had a strange feeling of loneliness. There in the + shadow of my prison walls, was the dearest thing on earth to me. Ought she + not to be with me? She had begged to come, to share with me these dangers + and hardships; but that I could not, would not grant. She would be safer + with her people. As for us desperate men bent on escape, we must face + hourly peril. + </p> + <p> + Thank God, there was work to do. Hour after hour the swing and dip of the + paddles went on. No one showed weariness, and when the dawn broke slow and + soft over the eastern hills, I motioned my good boatmen towards the shore, + and landed safely. We lifted our frigate up, and carried her into a + thicket, there to rest with us till night, when we would sally forth again + into the friendly darkness. We were in no distress all that day, for the + weather was fine, and we had enough to eat; and in such case were we for + ten days and nights, though indeed some of the nights were dreary and very + cold, for it was yet but the beginning of May. + </p> + <p> + It might thus seem that we were leaving danger well behind, after having + travelled so many heavy leagues, but it was yet several hundred miles to + Louisburg, our destination; and we had escaped only immediate danger. We + passed Isle aux Coudres and the Isles of Kamaraska, and now we ventured by + day to ramble the woods in search of game, which was most plentiful. In + this good outdoor life my health came slowly back, and I should soon be + able to bear equal tasks with any of my faithful comrades. Never man led + better friends, though I have seen adventurous service near and far since + that time. Even the genial ruffian Clark was amenable, and took sharp + reprimand without revolt. + </p> + <p> + On the eleventh night after our escape, our first real trial came. We were + keeping the middle of the great river, as safest from detection, and when + the tide was with us we could thus move more rapidly. We had had a + constant favouring wind, but now suddenly, though we were running with the + tide, the wind turned easterly, and blew up the river against the ebb. + Soon it became a gale, to which was added snow and sleet, and a rough, + choppy sea followed. + </p> + <p> + I saw it would be no easy task to fetch our craft to the land. The waves + broke in upon us, and presently, while half of us were paddling with + laboured and desperate stroke, the other half were bailing. Lifted on a + crest, our canoe, heavily laden, dropped at both ends; and again, sinking + into the hollows between the short, brutal waves, her gunwales yielded + outward, and her waist gaped in a dismal way. We looked to see her with a + broken back at any moment. To add to our ill fortune, a violent current + set in from the shore, and it was vain to attempt a landing. Spirits and + bodies flagged, and it needed all my cheerfulness to keep my good fellows + to their tasks. + </p> + <p> + At last, the ebb of tide being almost spent, the waves began to fall, the + wind shifted a little to the northward, and a piercing cold instantly + froze our drenched clothes on our backs. But with the current changed + there was a good chance of reaching the shore. As daylight came we passed + into a little sheltered cove, and sank with exhaustion on the shore. Our + frozen clothes rattled like tin, and we could scarce lift a leg. But we + gathered a fine heap of wood, flint and steel were ready, and the tinder + was sought; which, when found, was soaking. Not a dry stitch or stick + could we find anywhere, till at last, within a leather belt, Mr. Stevens + found a handkerchief, which was, indeed, as he told me afterwards, the + gift and pledge of a lady to him; and his returning to her with out it + nearly lost him another and better gift and pledge, for this went to light + our fire. We had had enough danger and work in one night to give us relish + for some days of rest, and we piously took them. + </p> + <p> + The evening of the second day we set off again, and had a good night’s + run, and in the dawn, spying a snug little bay, we stood in, and went + ashore. I sent my two Provincials foraging with their guns, and we who + remained set about to fix our camp for the day and prepare breakfast. A + few minutes only passed, and the two hunters came running back with rueful + faces to say they had seen two Indians near, armed with muskets and + knives. My plans were made at once. We needed their muskets, and the + Indians must pay the price of their presence here, for our safety should + be had at any cost. + </p> + <p> + I urged my men to utter no word at all, for none but Clark could speak + French, and he but poorly. For myself, my accent would pass after these + six years of practice. We came to a little river, beyond which we could + observe the Indians standing on guard. We could only cross by wading, + which we did; but one of my Provincials came down, wetting his musket and + himself thoroughly. Reaching the shore, we marched together, I singing the + refrain of an old French song as we went, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + En roulant, ma boule roulant, + En roulant, ma boule +</pre> + <p> + so attracting the attention of the Indians. The better to deceive, we all + were now dressed in the costume of the French peasant—I had taken + pains to have Mr. Stevens secure these for us before starting; a pair of + homespun trousers, a coarse brown jacket, with thrums like waving tassels, + a silk handkerchief about the neck, and a strong thick worsted wig on the + head; no smart toupet, nor buckle; nor combed, nor powdered; and all + crowned by a dull black cap. I myself was, as became my purpose, most like + a small captain of militia, doing wood service, and in the braver costume + of the coureur de bois. + </p> + <p> + I signalled to the Indians, and, coming near, addressed them in French. + They were deceived, and presently, abreast of them, in the midst of + apparent ceremony, their firelocks were seized, and Mr. Stevens and Clark + had them safe. I said we must be satisfied as to who they were, for + English prisoners escaped from Quebec were abroad, and no man could go + unchallenged. They must at once lead me to their camp. So they did, and at + their bark wigwam they said they had seen no Englishman. They were + guardians of the fire; that is, it was their duty to light a fire on the + shore when a hostile fleet should appear; and from another point farther + up, other guardians, seeing, would do the same, until beacons would be + shining even to Quebec, three hundred leagues away. + </p> + <p> + While I was questioning them, Clark rifled the wigwam; and presently, the + excitable fellow, finding some excellent stores of skins, tea, maple + sugar, coffee, and other things, broke out into English expletives. + Instantly the Indians saw they had been trapped, and he whom Mr. Stevens + held made a great spring from him, caught up a gun, and gave a wild yell + which echoed far and near. Mr. Stevens, with great rapidity, leveled his + pistol and shot him in the heart, while I, in a close struggle with my + captive, was glad—for I was not yet strong—that Clark finished + my assailant: and so both lay there dead, two foes less of our good King. + </p> + <p> + Not far from where we stood was a pool of water, black and deep, and we + sank the bodies there; but I did not know till long afterwards that Clark, + with a barbarous and disgusting spirit, carried away their scalps to sell + them in New York, where they would bring, as he confided to one of the + Provincials, twelve pounds each. Before we left, we shot a poor howling + dog that mourned for his masters, and sank him also in the dark pool. + </p> + <p> + We had but got back to our camp, when, looking out, we saw a well-manned + four-oared boat making for the shore. My men were in dismay until I told + them that, having begun the game of war, I would carry it on to the ripe + end. This boat and all therein should be mine. Safely hidden, we watched + the rowers draw in to shore, with brisk strokes, singing a quaint farewell + song of the voyageurs, called La Pauvre Mere, of which the refrain is: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “And his mother says, ‘My dear, + For your absence I shall grieve; + Come you home within the year.’” + </pre> + <p> + They had evidently been upon a long voyage, and by their toiling we could + see their boat was deep loaded; but they drove on, like a horse that, at + the close of day, sees ahead the inn where he is to bait and refresh, and, + rousing to the spur, comes cheerily home. The figure of a reverend old man + was in the stern, and he sent them in to shore with brisk words. Bump came + the big shallop on the beach, and at that moment I ordered my men to fire, + but to aim wide, for I had another end in view than killing. + </p> + <p> + We were exactly matched as to numbers, so that a fight would be fair + enough, but I hoped for peaceful conquest. As we fired I stepped out of + the thicket, and behind me could be seen the shining barrels of our + threatening muskets. The old gentleman stood up while his men cried for + quarter. He waved them down with an impatient gesture, and stepped out on + the beach. Then I recognized him. It was the Chevalier de la Darante. I + stepped towards him, my sword drawn. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur the Chevalier de la Darante, you are my prisoner,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He started, then recognized me. “Now, by the blood of man! now, by the + blood of man!” he said, and paused, dumfounded. + </p> + <p> + “You forget me, monsieur?” asked I. + </p> + <p> + “Forget you, monsieur?” said he. “As soon forget the devil at mass! But I + thought you dead by now, and—” + </p> + <p> + “If you are disappointed,” said I, “there is a way”; and I waved towards + his men, then to Mr. Stevens and my own ambushed fellows. + </p> + <p> + He smiled an acid smile, and took a pinch of snuff. “It is not so + fiery-edged as that,” he answered; “I can endure it.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall have time too for reverie,” answered I. + </p> + <p> + He looked puzzled. “What is’t you wish?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Your surrender first,” said I, “and then your company at breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “The latter has meaning and compliment,” he responded, “the former is + beyond me. What would you do with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Detain you and your shallop for the services of my master, the King of + England, soon to be the master of your master, if the signs are right.” + </p> + <p> + “All signs fail with the blind, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “I will give you good reading of those signs in due course,” retorted I. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” he added, with great, almost too great dignity, “I am of the + family of the Duc de Mirepoix. The whole Kamaraska Isles are mine, and the + best gentlemen in this province do me vassalage. I make war on none, I + have stepped aside from all affairs of state, I am a simple gentleman. I + have been a great way down this river, at large expense and toil, to + purchase wheat, for all the corn of these counties goes to Quebec to store + the King’s magazine, the adored La Friponne. I know not your purposes, but + I trust you will not push your advantage”—he waved towards our + muskets—“against a private gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “You forget, Chevalier,” said I, “that you gave verdict for my death.” + </p> + <p> + “Upon the evidence,” he replied. “And I have no doubt you deserve hanging + a thousand times.” + </p> + <p> + I almost loved him for his boldness. I remembered also that he had no wish + to be one of my judges, and that he spoke for me in the presence of the + Governor. But he was not the man to make a point of that. + </p> + <p> + “Chevalier,” said I, “I have been foully used in yonder town; by the + fortune of war you shall help me to compensation. We have come a long, + hard journey; we are all much overworked; we need rest, a better boat, and + good sailors. You and your men, Chevalier, shall row us to Louisburg. When + we are attacked, you shall be in the van; when we are at peace, you shall + industriously serve under King George’s flag. Now will you give up your + men, and join me at breakfast?” + </p> + <p> + For a moment the excellent gentleman was mute, and my heart almost fell + before his venerable white hair and his proud bearing; but something a + little overdone in his pride, a little ludicrous in the situation, set me + smiling; there came back on me the remembrance of all I had suffered, and + I let no sentiment stand between me and my purposes. + </p> + <p> + “I am the Chevalier de la—” he began. + </p> + <p> + “If you were King Louis himself, and every man there in your boat a peer + of his realm, you should row a British subject now,” said I; “or, if you + choose, you shall have fighting instead.” I meant there should be nothing + uncertain in my words. + </p> + <p> + “I surrender,” said he; “and if you are bent on shaming me, let us have it + over soon.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall have better treatment than I had in Quebec,” answered I. + </p> + <p> + A moment afterwards, his men were duly surrendered, disarmed, and guarded, + and the Chevalier breakfasted with me, now and again asking me news of + Quebec. He was much amazed to hear that Bigot had been shot, and + distressed that I could not say whether fatally or not. + </p> + <p> + I fixed on a new plan. We would now proceed by day as well as by night, + for the shallop could not leave the river, and, besides, I did not care to + trust my prisoners on shore. I threw from the shallop into the stream + enough wheat to lighten her, and now, well stored and trimmed, we pushed + away upon our course, the Chevalier and his men rowing, while my men + rested and tended the sail, which was now set. I was much loath to cut our + good canoe adrift, but she stopped the shallop’s way, and she was left + behind. + </p> + <p> + After a time, our prisoners were in part relieved, and I made the + Chevalier rest also, for he had taken his task in good part, and had + ordered his men to submit cheerfully. In the late afternoon, after an + excellent journey, we saw a high and shaggy point of land, far ahead, + which shut off our view. I was anxious to see beyond it, for ships of war + might appear at any moment. A good breeze brought up this land, and when + we were abreast of it a lofty frigate was disclosed to view—a convoy + (so the Chevalier said) to a fleet of transports which that morning had + gone up the river. I resolved instantly, since fight was useless, to make + a run for it. Seating myself at the tiller, I declared solemnly that I + would shoot the first man who dared to stop the shallop’s way, to make + sign, or speak a word. So, as the frigate stood across the river, I had + all sail set, roused the men at the oars, and we came running by her + stern. Our prisoners were keen enough to get by in safety, for they were + between two fires, and the excellent Chevalier was as alert and laborious + as the rest. They signalled us from the frigate by a shot to bring to, but + we came on gallantly. Another shot whizzed by at a distance, but we did + not change our course, and then balls came flying over our heads, dropping + round us, cooling their hot protests in the river. But none struck us, and + presently all fell short. + </p> + <p> + We durst not slacken pace that night, and by morning, much exhausted, we + deemed ourselves safe, and rested for a while, making a hearty breakfast, + though a sombre shadow had settled on the face of the good Chevalier. Once + more he ventured to protest, but I told him my resolution was fixed, and + that I would at all costs secure escape from my six years’ misery. He must + abide the fortune of this war. + </p> + <p> + For several days we fared on, without more mishap. At last, one morning, + we hugged the shore, I saw a large boat lying on the beach. On landing we + found the boat of excellent size, and made for swift going, and presently + Clark discovered the oars. Then I turned to the Chevalier, who was + watching me curiously, yet hiding anxiety, for he had upheld his dignity + with some accent since he had come into my service: + </p> + <p> + “Chevalier,” said I, “you shall find me more humane than my persecutors at + Quebec. I will not hinder your going, if you will engage on your honour—as + would, for instance, the Duc de Mirepoix!”—he bowed to my veiled + irony—“that you will not divulge what brought you back thus far, + till you shall reach your Kamaraska Isles; and you must undertake the same + for your fellows here.” + </p> + <p> + He consented, and I admired the fine, vain old man, and lamented that I + had had to use him so. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said I, “you may depart with your shallop. Your mast and sail, + however, must be ours; and for these I will pay. I will also pay for the + wheat which was thrown into the river, and you shall have a share of our + provisions, got from the Indians.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” said he, “I shall remember with pride that I have dealt with + so fair a foe. I can not regret the pleasure of your acquaintance, even at + the price. And see, monsieur, I do not think you the criminal they have + made you out, and so I will tell a lady—” + </p> + <p> + I raised my hand at him, for I saw that he knew something, and Mr. Stevens + was near us at the time. + </p> + <p> + “Chevalier,” said I, drawing him aside, “if, as you say, you think I have + used you honourably, then, if trouble falls upon my wife before I see her + again, I beg you to stand her friend. In the sad fortunes of war and hate + of me, she may need a friend—even against her own people, on her own + hearthstone.” + </p> + <p> + I never saw a man so amazed; and to his rapid questionings I gave the one + reply, that Alixe was my wife. His lip trembled. + </p> + <p> + “Poor child! poor child!” he said; “they will put her in a nunnery. You + did wrong, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Chevalier,” said I, “did you ever love a woman?” + </p> + <p> + He made a motion of the hand, as if I had touched upon a tender point, and + said, “So young, so young!” + </p> + <p> + “But you will stand by her,” I urged, “by the memory of some good woman + you have known!” + </p> + <p> + He put out his hand again with a chafing sort of motion. “There, there,” + said he, “the poor child shall never want a friend. If I can help it, she + shall not be made a victim of the Church or of the State, nor yet of + family pride—good God, no!” + </p> + <p> + Presently we parted, and soon we lost our grateful foes in the distance. + All night we jogged along with easy sail, but just at dawn, in a sudden + opening of the land, we saw a sloop at anchor near a wooded point, her + pennant flying. We pushed along, unheeding its fiery signal to bring to; + and declining, she let fly a swivel loaded with grape, and again another, + riddling our sail; but we were travelling with wind and tide, and we soon + left the indignant patrol behind. Towards evening came a freshening wind + and a cobbling sea, and I thought it best to make for shore. So, easing + the sail, we brought our shallop before the wind. It was very dark, and + there was a heavy surf running; but we had to take our fortune as it came, + and we let drive for the unknown shore, for it was all alike to us. + Presently, as we ran close in, our boat came hard upon a rock, which + bulged her bows open. Taking what provisions we could, we left our poor + craft upon the rocks, and fought our way to safety. + </p> + <p> + We had little joy that night in thinking of our shallop breaking on the + reefs, and we discussed the chances of crossing overland to Louisburg; but + we soon gave up that wild dream: this river was the only way. When + daylight came, we found our boat, though badly wrecked, still held + together. Now Clark rose to the great necessity, and said that he would + patch her up to carry us on, or never lift a hammer more. With labour past + reckoning we dragged her to shore, and got her on the stocks, and then set + about to find materials to mend her. Tools were all too few—a + hammer, a saw, and an adze were all we had. A piece of board or a nail + were treasures then, and when the timbers of the craft were covered, for + oakum we had resort to tree-gum. For caulking, one spared a handkerchief, + another a stocking, and another a piece of shirt, till she was stuffed in + all her fissures. In this labour we passed eight days, and then were ready + for the launch again. + </p> + <p> + On the very afternoon fixed for starting, we saw two sails standing down + the river, and edging towards our shore. One of them let anchor go right + off the place where our patched boat lay. We had prudently carried on our + work behind rocks and trees, so that we could not be seen, unless our foes + came ashore. Our case seemed desperate enough, but all at once I + determined on a daring enterprise. + </p> + <p> + The two vessels—convoys, I felt sure—had anchored some + distance from each other, and from their mean appearance I did not think + that they would have a large freight of men and arms; for they seemed not + ships from France, but vessels of the country. If I could divide the force + of either vessel, and quietly, under cover of night, steal on her by + surprise, then I would trust our desperate courage, and open the war which + soon General Wolfe and Admiral Saunders were to wage up and down this + river. + </p> + <p> + I had brave fellows with me, and if we got our will it would be a thing + worth remembrance. So I disclosed my plan to Mr. Stevens and the others, + and, as I looked for, they had a fine relish for the enterprise. I agreed + upon a signal with them, bade them to lie close along the ground, picked + out the nearer (which was the smaller) ship for my purpose, and at sunset, + tying a white handkerchief to a stick, came marching out of the woods, + upon the shore, firing a gun at the same time. Presently a boat was put + out from the sloop, and two men and a boy came rowing towards me. Standing + off a little distance from the shore, they asked what was wanted. + </p> + <p> + “The King’s errand,” was my reply in French, and I must be carried down + the river by them, for which I would pay generously. Then, with idle + gesture, I said that if they wished some drink, there was a bottle of rum + near my fire, above me, to which they were welcome; also some game, which + they might take as a gift to their captain and his crew. + </p> + <p> + This drew them like a magnet, and, as I lit my pipe, their boat scraped + the sand, and, getting out, they hauled her up and came towards me. I met + them, and, pointing towards my fire, as it might appear, led them up + behind the rocks, when, at a sign, my men sprang up, the fellows were + seized, and were forbidden to cry out on peril of their lives. I compelled + them to tell what hands and what arms were left on board. The sloop from + which they came, and the schooner, its consort, were bound for Gaspe, to + bring provisions for several hundred Indians assembled at Miramichi and + Aristiguish, who were to go by these same vessels to re-enforce the + garrison of Quebec. + </p> + <p> + The sloop, they said, had six guns and a crew of twenty men; but the + schooner, which was much larger, had no arms save muskets, and a crew and + guard of thirty men. + </p> + <p> + In this country there is no twilight, and with sunset came instantly the + dusk. Already silence and dark inclosed the sloop. I had the men bound to + a tree, and gagged also, engaging to return and bring them away safe and + unhurt when our task was over. I chose for pilot the boy, and presently, + with great care, launching our patched shallop from the stocks—for + the ship-boat was too small to carry six safely—we got quietly away. + Rowing with silent stroke, we came alongside the sloop. No light burned + save that in the binnacle, and all hands, except the watch, were below at + supper and at cards. + </p> + <p> + I could see the watch forward as we dropped silently alongside the stern. + My object was to catch this fellow as he came by. This I would trust to no + one but myself; for now, grown stronger, I had the old spring in my blood, + and I had also a good wish that my plans should not go wrong through the + bungling of others. I motioned my men to sit silent, and then, when the + fellow’s back was toward me, coming softly up the side, I slid over + quietly, and drew into the shadow of a boat that hung near. + </p> + <p> + He came on lazily, and when just past me I suddenly threw my arms about + him, clapping my hand upon his mouth. He was stoutly built, and he began + at once to struggle. He was no coward, and feeling for his knife, he drew + it, and would have had it in me but that I was quicker, and, with a + desperate wrench, my hand still over his mouth, half swung him round, and + drove my dagger home. + </p> + <p> + He sank in my arms with a heaving sigh, and I laid him down, still and + dead, upon the deck. Then I whispered up my comrades, the boy leading. As + the last man came over, his pistol, stuck in his belt, caught the ratlings + of the shrouds, and it dropped upon the deck. This gave the alarm, but I + was at the companion-door on the instant, as the first master came + bounding up, sword showing, and calling to his men, who swarmed after him. + I fired; the bullet travelled his spine, and he fell back stunned. + </p> + <p> + A dozen others came on. Some reached the deck and grappled with my men. I + never shall forget with what fiendish joy Clark fought that night—those + five terrible minutes. He was like some mad devil, and by his imprecations + I knew that he was avenging the brutal death of his infant daughter some + years before. He was armed with a long knife, and I saw four men fall + beneath it, while he himself got but one bad cut. Of the Provincials, one + fell wounded, and the other brought down his man. Mr. Stevens and myself + held the companion-way, driving the crew back, not without hurt, for my + wrist was slashed by a cutlass, and Mr. Stevens had a bullet in his thigh. + But presently we had the joy of having those below cry quarter. + </p> + <p> + We were masters of the sloop. Quickly battening down the prisoners, I had + the sails spread, the windlass going, and the anchor apeak quickly, and we + soon were moving down upon the schooner, which was now all confusion, + commands ringing out on the quiet air. But when, laying alongside, we gave + her a dose, and then another, from all our swivels at once, sweeping her + decks, the timid fellows cried quarter, and we boarded her. With my men’s + muskets cocked, I ordered her crew and soldiers below, till they were all, + save two lusty youths, stowed away. Then I had everything of value brought + from the sloop, together with the swivels, which we fastened to the + schooner’s side; and when all was done, we set fire to the sloop, and I + stood and watched her burn with a proud—too proud—spirit. + </p> + <p> + Having brought our prisoners from the shore, we placed them with the rest + below. At dawn I called a council with Mr. Stevens and the others—our + one wounded Provincial was not omitted—and we all agreed that some + of the prisoners should be sent off in the long boat, and a portion of the + rest be used to work the ship. So we had half the fellows up, and giving + them fishing-lines, rum, and provisions, with a couple of muskets and + ammunition, we sent them off to shift for themselves, and, raising anchor, + got on our way down the broad river, in perfect weather. + </p> + <p> + The days that followed are like a good dream to me, for we came on all the + way without challenge and with no adventure, even round Gaspe, to + Louisburg, thirty-eight days after my escape from the fortress. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIII. WITH WOLFE AT MONTMORENCI. + </h2> + <p> + At Louisburg we found that Admiral Saunders and General Wolfe were gone to + Quebec. They had passed us as we came down, for we had sailed inside some + islands of the coast, getting shelter and better passage, and the fleet + had, no doubt, passed outside. This was a blow to me, for I had hoped to + be in time to join General Wolfe and proceed with him to Quebec, where my + knowledge of the place should be of service to him. It was, however, no + time for lament, and I set about to find my way back again. Our prisoners + I handed over to the authorities. The two Provincials decided to remain + and take service under General Amherst; Mr. Stevens would join his own + Rangers at once, but Clark would go back with me to have his hour with his + hated foes. + </p> + <p> + I paid Mr. Stevens and the two Provincials for their shares in the + schooner, and Clark and I manned her afresh, and prepared to return + instantly to Quebec. From General Amherst I received correspondence to + carry to General Wolfe and Admiral Saunders. Before I started back, I sent + letters to Governor Dinwiddie and to Mr. (now Colonel) George Washington, + but I had no sooner done so than I received others from them through + General Amherst. They had been sent to him to convey to General Wolfe at + Quebec, who was, in turn, to hand them to me, when, as was hoped, I should + be released from captivity, if not already beyond the power of men to free + me. + </p> + <p> + The letters from these friends almost atoned for my past sufferings, and I + was ashamed that ever I had thought my countrymen forgot me in my worst + misery; for this was the first matter I saw when I opened the Governor’s + letter: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + By the House of Burgesses. +</pre> + <p> + Resolved, That the sum of three hundred pounds be paid to Captain Robert + Moray, in consideration of his services to the country, and his singular + sufferings in his confinement, as a hostage, in Quebec. + </p> + <p> + This, I learned, was one of three such resolutions. + </p> + <p> + But there were other matters in his letter which much amazed me. An + attempt, he said, had been made one dark night upon his strong-room, which + would have succeeded but for the great bravery and loyalty of an old + retainer. Two men were engaged in the attempt, one of whom was a + Frenchman. Both men were masked, and, when set upon, fought with + consummate bravery, and escaped. It was found the next day that the safe + of my partner had also been rifled and all my papers stolen. There was no + doubt in my mind what this meant. Doltaire, with some renegade Virginian + who knew Williamsburg and myself, had made essay to get my papers. But + they had failed in their designs, for all my valuable documents—and + those desired by Doltaire among them—remained safe in the Governor’s + strong-room. + </p> + <p> + I got away again for Quebec five days after reaching Louisburg. We came + along with good winds, having no check, though twice we sighted French + sloops, which, however, seemed most concerned to leave us to ourselves. At + last, with colours flying, we sighted Kamaraska Isles, which I saluted, + remembering the Chevalier de la Darante; then Isle aux Coudres, below + which we poor fugitives came so near disaster. Here we all felt new + fervour, for the British flag flew from a staff on a lofty point, tents + were pitched thereon in a pretty cluster, and, rounding a point, we came + plump upon Admiral Durell’s little fleet, which was here to bar advance of + French ships and to waylay stragglers. + </p> + <p> + On a blithe summer day we sighted, far off, the Island of Orleans and the + tall masts of two patrol ships of war, which in due time we passed, + saluting, and ran abreast of the island in the North Channel. Coming up + this passage, I could see on an eminence, far distant, the tower of the + Chateau Alixe. + </p> + <p> + Presently there opened on our sight the great bluff at the Falls of + Montmorenci, and, crowning it, tents and batteries, the camp of General + Wolfe himself, with the good ship Centurion standing off like a sentinel + at a point where the Basin, the River Montmorenci, and the North Channel + seem to meet. To our left, across the shoals, was Major Hardy’s post, on + the extreme eastern point of the Isle Orleans; and again beyond that, in a + straight line, Point Levis on the south shore, where Brigadier-General + Monckton’s camp was pitched; and farther on his batteries, from which + shell and shot were poured into the town. How all had changed in the two + months since I left there! Around the Seigneur Duvarney’s manor, in the + sweet village of Beauport, was encamped the French army, and redoubts and + batteries were ranged where Alixe and I and her brother Juste had many a + time walked in a sylvan quiet. Here, as it were, round the bent and broken + sides of a bowl, war raged, and the centre was like some caldron out of + which imps of ships sprang and sailed to hand up fires of hell to the + battalions on the ledges. Here swung Admiral Saunders’s and Admiral + Holmes’s divisions, out of reach of the French batteries, yet able to + menace and destroy, and to feed the British camps with men and munitions. + There was no French ship in sight—only two old hulks with guns in + the mouth of the St. Charles River, to protect the road to the palace gate—that + is, at the Intendance. + </p> + <p> + It was all there before me, the investment of Quebec, for which I had + prayed and waited seven long years. + </p> + <p> + All at once, on a lull in the fighting which had lasted twenty-four hours, + the heavy batteries from the Levis shore opened upon the town, emptying + therein the fatal fuel. Mixed feelings possessed me. I had at first + listened to Clark’s delighted imprecations and devilish praises with a + feeling of brag almost akin to his own—that was the soldier and the + Briton in me. But all at once the man, the lover, and the husband spoke: + my wife was in that beleaguered town under that monstrous shower! She had + said that she would never leave it till I came to fetch her. For I knew + well that our marriage must become known after I had escaped; that she + would not, for her own good pride and womanhood, keep it secret then; that + it would be proclaimed while yet Gabord and the excellent chaplain were + alive to attest all. + </p> + <p> + Summoned by the Centurion, we were passed on beyond the eastern point of + the Isle of Orleans to the admiral’s ship, which lay in the channel off + the point, with battleships in front and rear, and a line of frigates + curving towards the rocky peninsula of Quebec. Then came a line of buoys + beyond these, with manned boats moored alongside to protect the fleet from + fire rafts, which once already the enemy had unavailingly sent down to + ruin and burn our fleet. + </p> + <p> + Admiral Saunders received me with great cordiality, thanked me for the + dispatches, heard with applause of my adventures with the convoy, and at + once, with dry humour, said he would be glad, if General Wolfe consented, + to make my captured schooner one of his fleet. Later, when her history and + doings became known in the fleet, she was at once called the Terror of + France; for she did a wild thing or two before Quebec fell, though from + first to last she had but her six swivel guns, which I had taken from the + burnt sloop. Clark had command of her. + </p> + <p> + From Admiral Saunders I learned that Bigot had recovered from his hurt, + which had not been severe, and of the death of Monsieur Cournal, who had + ridden his horse over the cliff in the dark. From the Admiral I came to + General Wolfe at Montmorenci. + </p> + <p> + I shall never forget my first look at my hero, my General, that flaming, + exhaustless spirit, in a body so gauche and so unshapely. When I was + brought to him, he was standing on a knoll alone, looking through a glass + towards the batteries of Levis. The first thing that struck me, as he + lowered the glass and leaned against a gun, was the melancholy in the + lines of his figure. I never forget that, for it seemed to me even then + that, whatever glory there was for British arms ahead, there was tragedy + for him. Yet, as he turned at the sound of our footsteps, I almost + laughed; for his straight red hair, his face defying all regularity, with + the nose thrust out like a wedge and the chin falling back from an + affectionate sort of mouth, his tall straggling frame and far from + athletic shoulders, challenged contrast with the compact, handsome, + graciously shaped Montcalm. In Montcalm was all manner of things to charm—all + save that which presently filled me with awe, and showed me wherein this + sallow-featured, pain-racked Briton was greater than his rival beyond + measure: in that searching, burning eye, which carried all the distinction + and greatness denied him elsewhere. There resolution, courage, endurance, + deep design, clear vision, dogged will, and heroism, lived: a bright + furnace of daring resolves and hopes, which gave England her sound desire. + </p> + <p> + An officer of his staff presented me. He looked at me with piercing + intelligence, and then, presently, his long hand made a swift motion of + knowledge and greeting, and he said: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, and you are welcome, Captain Moray. I have heard of you, of + much to your credit. You were for years in durance there.” + </p> + <p> + He pointed towards the town, where we could see the dome of the cathedral + shine, and the leaping smoke and flame of the roaring batteries. + </p> + <p> + “Six years, your Excellency,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Papers of yours fell into General Braddock’s hands, and they tried you + for a spy—a curious case—a curious case! Wherein were they + wrong and you justified, and why was all exchange refused?” + </p> + <p> + I told him the main, the bare facts, and how, to force certain papers from + me, I had been hounded to the edge of the grave. He nodded, and seemed + lost in study of the mud-flats at the Beauport shore, and presently took + to beating his foot upon the ground. After a minute, as if he had come + back from a distance, he said: “Yes, yes, broken articles. Few women have + a sense of national honour, such as La Pompadour none! An interesting + matter.” + </p> + <p> + Then, after a moment: “You shall talk with our chief engineer; you know + the town you should be useful to me, Captain Moray. What do you suggest + concerning this siege of ours?” + </p> + <p> + “Has any attack been made from above the town, your Excellency?” + </p> + <p> + He lifted his eyebrows. “Is it vulnerable from there? From Cap Rouge, you + mean?” + </p> + <p> + “They have you at advantage everywhere, sir,” I said. “A thousand men + could keep the town, so long as this river, those mud-flats, and those + high cliffs are there.” + </p> + <p> + “But above the town—” + </p> + <p> + “Above the citadel there is a way—the only way: a feint from the + basin here, a sham menace and attack, and the real action at the other + door of the town.” + </p> + <p> + “They will, of course, throw fresh strength and vigilance above, if our + fleet run their batteries and attack there; the river at Cap Rouge is like + this Montmorenci for defense.” He shook his head. “There is no way, I + fear.” + </p> + <p> + “General,” said I, “if you will take me into your service, and then give + me leave to handle my little schooner in this basin and in the river + above, I will prove that you may take your army into Quebec by entering it + myself, and returning with something as precious to me as the taking of + Quebec to you.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me piercingly for a minute, then a sour sort of smile played + at his lips. “A woman!” he said. “Well, it were not the first time the + love of a wench opened the gates to a nation’s victory.” + </p> + <p> + “Love of a wife, sir, should carry a man farther.” + </p> + <p> + He turned on me a commanding look. “Speak plainly,” said he. “If we are to + use you, let us know you in all.” + </p> + <p> + He waved farther back the officers with him. + </p> + <p> + “I have no other wish, your Excellency,” I answered him. Then I told him + briefly of the Seigneur Duvarney, Alixe, and of Doltaire. + </p> + <p> + “Duvarney! Duvarney!” he said, and a light came into his look. Then he + called an officer. “Was it not one Seigneur Duvarney who this morning + prayed protection for his chateau on the Isle of Orleans?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Even so, your Excellency,” was the reply; “and he said that if Captain + Moray was with us, he would surely speak for the humanity and kindness he + and his household had shown to British prisoners.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak, then, for this gentleman?” he asked, with a dry sort of smile. + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart,” I answered. “But why asks he protection at this late + day?” + </p> + <p> + “New orders are issued to lay waste the country; hitherto all property was + safe,” was the General’s reply. “See that the Seigneur Duvarney’s suit is + granted,” he added to his officer, “and say it is by Captain Moray’s + intervention.—There is another matter of this kind to be arranged + this noon,” he continued: “an exchange of prisoners, among whom are some + ladies of birth and breeding, captured but two days ago. A gentleman comes + from General Montcalm directly upon the point. You might be useful + herein,” he added, “if you will come to my tent in an hour.” He turned to + go. + </p> + <p> + “And my ship, and permission to enter the town, your Excellency?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “What do you call your—ship?” he asked a little grimly. + </p> + <p> + I told him how the sailors had already christened her. He smiled. “Then + let her prove her title to Terror of France,” he said, “by being pilot to + the rest of our fleet, up the river, and you, Captain Moray, be guide to a + footing on those heights”—he pointed to the town. “Then this army + and its General, and all England, please God, will thank you. Your craft + shall have commission as a rover—but if she gets into trouble?” + </p> + <p> + “She will do as her owner has done these six years, your Excellency: she + will fight her way out alone.” + </p> + <p> + He gazed long at the town and at the Levis shore. “From above, then, there + is a way?” + </p> + <p> + “For proof, if I come back alive—” + </p> + <p> + “For proof that you have been—” he answered meaningly, with an + amused flash of his eyes, though at the very moment a spasm of pain + crossed his face, for he was suffering from incurable disease, and went + about his great task in daily misery, yet cheerful and inspiring. + </p> + <p> + “For proof, my wife, sir,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He nodded, but his thoughts were diverted instantly, and he went from me + at once abstracted. But again he came back. “If you return,” said he, “you + shall serve upon my staff. You will care to view our operations,” he + added, motioning towards the intrenchments at the river. Then he stepped + quickly away, and I was taken by an officer to the river, and though my + heart warmed within me to hear that an attack was presently to be made + from the shore not far distant from the falls, I felt that the attempt + could not succeed: the French were too well intrenched. + </p> + <p> + At the close of an hour I returned to the General’s tent. It was + luncheon-time, and they were about to sit as I was announced. The General + motioned me to a seat, and then again, as if on second thought, made as + though to introduce me to some one who stood beside him. My amazement was + unbounded when I saw, smiling cynically at me, Monsieur Doltaire. + </p> + <p> + He was the envoy from Quebec. I looked him in the eyes steadily for a + moment, into malicious, unswerving eyes, as maliciously and unswervingly + myself, and then we both bowed. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Moray and I have sat at meat together before,” he said, with + mannered coolness. “We have played host and guest also: but that was ere + he won our hearts by bold, romantic feats. Still, I dared scarcely hope to + meet him at this table.” + </p> + <p> + “Which is sacred to good manners,” said I meaningly and coolly, for my + anger and surprise were too deep for excitement. + </p> + <p> + I saw the General look at both of us keenly, then his marvellous eyes + flashed intelligence, and a grim smile played at his lips a moment. After + a little general conversation Doltaire addressed me: + </p> + <p> + “We are not yet so overwhelmed with war but your being here again will + give a fillip to our gossip. It must seem sad to you—you were so + long with us—you have broken bread with so many of us—to see + us pelted so. Sometimes a dinner-table is disordered by a riotous shell.” + </p> + <p> + He bent on torturing me. And it was not hard to do that, for how knew I + what had happened? How came he back so soon from the Bastile? It was + incredible. Perhaps he had never gone, in spite of all. After luncheon, + the matter of exchange of prisoners was gone into, and one by one the + names of the French prisoners in our hands—ladies and gentlemen + apprehended at the chateau were ticked off, and I knew them all save two. + The General deferred to me several times as to the persons and positions + of the captives, and asked my suggestions. Immediately I proposed Mr. + Wainfleet, the chaplain, in exchange for a prisoner, though his name was + not on the list, but Doltaire shook his head in a blank sort of way. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Wainfleet! Mr. Wainfleet! There was no such prisoner in the town,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + I insisted, but he stared at me inscrutably, and said that he had no + record of the man. Then I spoke most forcibly to the General, and said + that Mr. Wainfleet should be produced, or an account of him be given by + the French Governor. Doltaire then said: + </p> + <p> + “I am only responsible for these names recorded. Our General trusts to + your honour, and you to ours, Monsieur le General.” + </p> + <p> + There was nothing more to say, and presently the exchanges were arranged, + and, after compliments, Doltaire took his leave. I left the Governor also, + and followed Doltaire. He turned to meet me. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Moray and I,” he remarked to the officers near, “are old—enemies; + and there is a sad sweetness in meetings like these. May I—” + </p> + <p> + The officers drew away at a little distance at once before the suggestion + was made, and we were left alone. I was in a white heat, but yet in fair + control. + </p> + <p> + “You are surprised to see me here,” he said. “Did you think the Bastile + was for me? Tut! I had not got out of the country when we a packet came, + bearing fresh commands. La Pompadour forgave me, and in the King’s name + bade me return to New France, and in her own she bade me get your papers, + or hang you straight. And—you will think it singular—if need + be, I was to relieve the Governor and Bigot also, and work to save New + France with the excellent Marquis de Montcalm.” He laughed. “You can see + how absurd that is. I have held my peace, and I keep my commission in my + pocket.” + </p> + <p> + I looked at him amazed that he should tell me this. He read my look, and + said: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you are my confidant in this. I do not fear you. Your enemy is bound + in honour, your friend may seek to serve himself.” Again he laughed. “As + if I, Tinoir Doltaire—note the agreeable combination of peasant and + gentleman in my name—who held his hand from ambition for large + things in France, should stake a lifetime on this foolish hazard! When I + play, Captain Moray, it is for things large and vital. Else I remain the + idler, the courtier—the son of the King.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet you lend your vast talent, the genius of those unknown possibilities, + to this, monsieur—this little business of exchange of prisoners,” I + retorted ironically. + </p> + <p> + “That is my whim—a social courtesy.” + </p> + <p> + “You said you knew nothing of the chaplain,” I broke out. + </p> + <p> + “Not so. I said he was on no record given me. Officially I know nothing of + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said I, “you know well how I am concerned for him. You quibble; + you lied to our General.” + </p> + <p> + A wicked light shone in his eyes. “I choose to pass that by, for the + moment,” said he. “I am sorry you forget yourself; it were better for you + and me to be courteous till our hour of reckoning, Shall we not meet some + day?” he said, with a sweet hatred in his tone. + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart.” + </p> + <p> + “But where?” + </p> + <p> + “In yonder town,” said I, pointing. + </p> + <p> + He laughed provokingly. “You are melodramatic,” he rejoined. “I could hold + that town with one thousand men against all your army and five times your + fleet.” + </p> + <p> + “You have ever talked and nothing done,” said I. “Will you tell me the + truth of the chaplain?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, in private the truth you shall hear,” he said. “The man is dead.” + </p> + <p> + “If you speak true, he was murdered,” I broke out. “You know well why.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” he answered. “He was put in prison, escaped, made for the river, + was pursued, fought, and was killed. So much for serving you.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you answer me one question?” said I. “Is my wife well? Is she safe? + She is there set among villainies.” + </p> + <p> + “Your wife?” he answered, sneering. “If you mean Mademoiselle Duvarney, + she is not there.” Then he added solemnly and slowly: “She is in no fear + of your batteries now—she is beyond them. When she was there, she + was not child enough to think that foolish game with the vanished chaplain + was a marriage. Did you think to gull a lady so beyond the minute’s + wildness? She is not there,” he added again in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “She is dead?” I gasped. “My wife is dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Enough of that,” he answered with cold fierceness. “The lady saw the + folly of it all, before she had done with the world. You—you, + monsieur! It was but the pity of her gentle heart, of a romantic nature. + You—you blundering alien, spy, and seducer!” + </p> + <p> + With a gasp of anger I struck him in the face, and whipped out my sword. + But the officers near came instantly between us, and I could see that they + thought me gross, ill-mannered, and wild, to do this thing before the + General’s tent, and to an envoy. + </p> + <p> + Doltaire stood still a moment. Then presently wiped a little blood from + his mouth, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Messieurs, Captain Moray’s anger was justified; and for the blow he will + justify that in some happier time—for me. He said that I had lied, + and I proved him wrong. I called him a spy and a seducer—he sought + to shame, he covered with sorrow, one of the noblest families of New + France—and he has yet to prove me wrong. As envoy I may not fight + him now, but I may tell you that I have every cue to send him to hell one + day. He will do me the credit to say that it is not cowardice that stays + me.” + </p> + <p> + “If no coward in the way of fighting, coward in all other things,” I + retorted instantly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, as you may think.” He turned to go. “We will meet there, + then?” he said, pointing to the town. “And when?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow,” said I. + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulder as to a boyish petulance, for he thought it an + idle boast. “To-morrow? Then come and pray with me in the cathedral, and + after that we will cast up accounts—to-morrow,” he said, with a + poignant and exultant malice. A moment afterwards he was gone, and I was + left alone. + </p> + <p> + Presently I saw a boat shoot out from the shore below, and he was in it. + Seeing me, he waved a hand in an ironical way. I paced up and down, sick + and distracted, for half an hour or more. I knew not whether he lied + concerning Alixe, but my heart was wrung with misery, for indeed he spoke + with an air of truth. + </p> + <p> + Dead! dead! dead! “In no fear of your batteries now,” he had said. “Done + with the world!” he had said. What else could it mean? Yet the more I + thought, there came a feeling that somehow I had been tricked. “Done with + the world!” Ay, a nunnery—was that it? But then, “In no fear of your + batteries now”—that, what did that mean but death? + </p> + <p> + At this distressful moment a message came from the General, and I went to + his tent, trying to calm myself, but overcome with apprehension. I was + kept another half hour waiting, and then, coming in to him, he questioned + me closely for a little about Doltaire, and I told him the whole story + briefly. Presently his secretary brought me the commission for my + appointment to special service on the General’s own staff. + </p> + <p> + “Your first duty,” said his Excellency, “will be to—reconnoitre; and + if you come back safe, we will talk further.” + </p> + <p> + While he was speaking I kept looking at the list of prisoners which still + lay upon his table. It ran thus: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Monsieur and Madame Joubert. + Monsieur and Madame Carcanal. + Madame Rousillon. + Madame Champigny. + Monsieur Pipon. + Mademoiselle La Rose. + L’Abbe Durand. + Monsieur Halboir. + La Soeur Angelique. + La Soeur Seraphine. +</pre> + <p> + I know not why it was, but the last three names held my eyes. Each of the + other names I knew, and their owners also. When I looked close, I saw that + where “La Soeur Angelique” now was another name had been written and then + erased. I saw also that the writing was recent. Again, where “Halboir” was + written there had been another name, and the same process of erasure and + substitution had been made. It was not so with “La Soeur Seraphine.” I + said to the General at once, “Your excellency, it is possible you have + been tricked.” Then I pointed out what I had discovered. He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Will you let me go, sir?” said I. “Will you let me see this exchange?” + </p> + <p> + “I fear you will be too late,” he answered. “It is not a vital matter, I + fancy.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps to me most vital,” said I, and I explained my fears. + </p> + <p> + “Then go, go,” he said kindly. He quickly gave directions to have me + carried to Admiral Saunders’s ship, where the exchange was to be effected, + and at the same time a general passport. + </p> + <p> + In a few moments we were hard on our way. Now the batteries were silent. + By the General’s orders, the bombardment ceased while the exchange was + being effected, and the French batteries also were still. A sudden + quietness seemed to settle on land and sea, and there was only heard, now + and then, the note of a bugle from a ship of war. The water in the basin + was moveless, and the air was calm and quiet. This heraldry of war was all + unnatural in the golden weather and sweet-smelling land. + </p> + <p> + I urged the rowers to their task, and we flew on. We passed another boat + loaded with men, singing boisterously a disorderly sort of song, called + “Hot Stuff,” set to the air “Lilies of France.” It was out of touch with + the general quiet: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “When the gay Forty-Seventh is dashing ashore, + While bullets are whistling and cannons do roar, + Says Montcalm, ‘Those are Shirleys—I know the lapels.’ + ‘You lie,’ says Ned Botwood, ‘we swipe for Lascelles! + Though our clothing is changed, and we scout powder-puff, + Here’s at you, ye swabs—here’s give you Hot Stuff!’” + </pre> + <p> + While yet we were about two miles away, I saw a boat put out from the + admiral’s ship, then, at the same moment, one from the Lower Town, and + they drew towards each other. I urged my men to their task, and as we were + passing some of Admiral Saunders’s ships, their sailors cheered us. Then + came a silence, and it seemed to me that all our army and fleet, and that + at Beauport, and the garrison of Quebec, were watching us; for the + ramparts and shore were crowded. We drove on at an angle, to intercept the + boat that left the admiral’s ship before it reached the town. + </p> + <p> + War leaned upon its arms and watched a strange duel. There was no + authority in any one’s hands save my own to stop the boat, and the two + armies must avoid firing, for the people of both nations were here in this + space between—ladies and gentlemen in the French boat going to the + town, Englishmen and a poor woman or two coming to our own fleet. + </p> + <p> + My men strained every muscle, but the pace was impossible—it could + not last; and the rowers in the French boat hung over their oars also with + enthusiasm. With the glass of the officer near me—Kingdon of + Anstruther’s Regiment—I could now see Doltaire standing erect in the + boat, urging the boatmen on. + </p> + <p> + All round that basin, on shore and cliff and mountains, thousands of + veteran fighters—Fraser’s, Otway’s, Townsend’s, Murray’s; and on the + other side the splendid soldiers of La Sarre, Languedoc, Bearn, and + Guienne—watched in silence. Well they might, for in this entr’acte + was the little weapon forged which opened the door of New France to + England’s glory. So may the little talent or opportunity make possible the + genius of the great. + </p> + <p> + The pain of this suspense grew so, that I longed for some sound to break + the stillness; but there was nothing for minute after minute. Then, at + last, on the halcyon air of that summer day floated the Angelus from the + cathedral tower. Only a moment, in which one could feel, and see also, the + French army praying, then came from the ramparts the sharp inspiring roll + of a drum, and presently all was still again. Nearer and nearer the boat + of prisoners approached the stone steps of the landing, and we were + several hundred yards behind. + </p> + <p> + I motioned to Doltaire to stop, but he made no sign. I saw the cloaked + figures of the nuns near him, and I strained my eyes, but I could not note + their faces. My men worked on ardently, and presently we gained. But I saw + that it was impossible to reach them before they set foot on shore. Now + their boat came to the steps, and one by one they hastily got out. Then I + called twice to Doltaire to stop. The air was still, and my voice carried + distinctly. Suddenly one of the cloaked figures sprang towards the steps + with arms outstretched, calling aloud, “Robert! Robert!” After a moment, + “Robert, my husband!” rang out again, and then a young officer and the + other nun took her by the arm to force her away. At the sharp instigation + of Doltaire, instantly some companies of marines filed in upon the place + where they had stood, leveled their muskets on us, and hid my beloved wife + from my view. I recognized the young officer who had put a hand upon + Alixe. It was her brother Juste. + </p> + <p> + “Alixe! Alixe!” I called, as my boat still came on. + </p> + <p> + “Save me, Robert!” came the anguished reply, a faint but searching sound, + and then no more. + </p> + <p> + Misery and mystery were in my heart all at once. Doltaire had tricked me. + “Those batteries can not harm her now!” Yes, yes, they could not while she + was a prisoner in our camp. “Done with the world!” Truly, when wearing the + garb of the Sister Angelique. But why that garb? I swore that I would be + within that town by the morrow, that I would fetch my wife into safety, + out from the damnable arts and devices of Master Devil Doltaire, as Gabord + had called him. + </p> + <p> + The captain of the marines called to us that another boat’s length would + fetch upon us the fire of his men. There was nothing to do, but to turn + back, while from the shore I was reviled by soldiers and by the rabble. My + marriage with Alixe had been made a national matter—of race and + religion. So, as my men rowed back towards our fleet, I faced my enemies, + and looked towards them without moving. I was grim enough that moment, God + knows; I felt turned to stone. I did not stir when—ineffaceable + brutality—the batteries on the heights began to play upon us, the + shot falling round us, and passing over our heads, and musket-firing + followed. + </p> + <p> + “Damned villains! Faithless brutes!” cried Kingdon beside me. I did not + speak a word, but stood there defiant, as when we first had turned back. + Now, sharply, angrily, from all our batteries, there came reply to the + French; and as we came on with only one man wounded and one oar broken, + the whole fleet cheered us. I steered straight for the Terror of France, + and there Clark and I, he swearing violently, laid plans. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIV. THE SACRED COUNTERSIGN + </h2> + <p> + That night, at nine o’clock, the Terror of France, catching the flow of + the tide, with one sail set and a gentle wind, left the fleet, and came + slowly up the river, under the batteries of the town. In the gloom we + passed lazily on with the flow of the tide, unquestioned, soon leaving the + citadel behind, and ere long came softly to that point called Anse du + Foulon, above which Sillery stood. The shore could not be seen distinctly, + but I knew by a perfect instinct the cleft in the hillside where was the + path leading up the mountain. I bade Clark come up the river again two + nights hence to watch for my signal, which was there agreed upon. If I did + not come, then, with General Wolfe’s consent, he must show the General + this path up the mountain. He swore that all should be as I wished; and + indeed you would have thought that he and his Terror of France were to + level Quebec to the water’s edge. + </p> + <p> + I stole softly to the shore in a boat, which I drew up among the bushes, + hiding it as well as I could in the dark, and then, feeling for my pistols + and my knife, I crept upwards, coming presently to the passage in the + mountain. I toiled on to the summit without a sound of alarm from above. + Pushing forward, a light flashed from the windmill, and a man, and then + two men, appeared in the open door. One of them was Captain Lancy, whom I + had very good reason to remember. The last time I saw him was that famous + morning when he would have had me shot five minutes before the appointed + hour, rather than endure the cold and be kept from his breakfast. I itched + to call him to account then and there, but that would have been foolish + play. I was outside of the belt of light falling from the door, and + stealing round I came near to the windmill on the town side. I was not + surprised to see such poor watch kept. Above the town, up to this time, + the guard was of a perfunctory sort, for the great cliffs were thought + impregnable; and even if surmounted, there was still the walled town to + take, surrounded by the St. Lawrence, the St. Charles, and these massive + bulwarks. + </p> + <p> + Presently Lancy stepped out into the light, and said, with a hoarse laugh, + “Blood of Peter, it was a sight to-day! She has a constant fancy for the + English filibuster. ‘Robert! my husband!’ she bleated like a pretty lamb, + and Doltaire grinned at her.” + </p> + <p> + “But Doltaire will have her yet.” + </p> + <p> + “He has her pinched like a mouse in a weasel’s teeth.” + </p> + <p> + “My faith, mademoiselle has no sweet road to travel since her mother + died,” was the careless reply. + </p> + <p> + I almost cried out. Here was a blow which staggered me. Her mother dead! + </p> + <p> + Presently the scoffer continued: “The Duvarneys would remain in the city, + and on that very night, as they sit at dinner, a shell disturbs them, a + splinter strikes Madame, and two days after she is carried to her grave.” + </p> + <p> + They linked arms and walked on. + </p> + <p> + It was a dangerous business I was set on, for I was sure that I would be + hung without shrift if captured. As it proved afterwards, I had been + proclaimed, and it was enjoined on all Frenchmen and true Catholics to + kill me if the chance showed. + </p> + <p> + Only two things could I depend on: Voban and my disguise, which was very + good. From the Terror of France I had got a peasant’s dress, and by + rubbing my hands and face with the stain of butternut, cutting again my + new-grown beard, and wearing a wig, I was well guarded against discovery. + </p> + <p> + How to get into the city was the question. By the St. Charles River and + the Palace Gate, and by the St. Louis Gate, not far from the citadel, were + the only ways, and both were difficult. I had, however, two or three + plans, and these I chewed as I went across Maitre Abraham’s fields, and + came to the main road from Sillery to the town. + </p> + <p> + Soon I heard the noise of clattering hoofs, and jointly with this I saw a + figure rise up not far ahead of me, as if waiting for the coming horseman. + I drew back. The horseman passed me, and, as he came on slowly, I saw the + figure spring suddenly from the roadside and make a stroke at the + horseman. In a moment they were a rolling mass upon the ground, while the + horse trotted down the road a little, and stood still. I never knew the + cause of that encounter—robbery, or private hate, or paid assault; + but there was scarcely a sound as the two men struggled. Presently, there + was groaning, and both lay still. I hurried to them, and found one dead, + and the other dying, and dagger wounds in both, for the assault had been + at such close quarters that the horseman had had no chance to use a + pistol. + </p> + <p> + My plans were changed on the instant. I drew the military coat, boots, and + cap off the horseman, and put them on myself; and thrusting my hand into + his waistcoat—for he looked like a courier—I found a packet. + This I put into my pocket, and then, making for the horse which stood + quiet in the road, I mounted it and rode on towards the town. Striking a + light, I found that the packet was addressed to the Governor. A serious + thought disturbed me: I could not get into the town through the gates + without the countersign. I rode on, anxious and perplexed. + </p> + <p> + Presently a thought pulled me up. The courier was insensible when I left + him, and he was the only one who could help me in this. I greatly + reproached myself for leaving him while he was still alive. “Poor devil,” + thought I to myself, “there is some one whom his death will hurt. He must + not die alone. He was no enemy of mine.” I went back, and, getting from + the horse, stooped to him, lifted up his head, and found that he was not + dead. I spoke in his ear. He moaned, and his eyes opened. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Jean—Labrouk,” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + Now I remembered him. He was the soldier whom Gabord had sent as messenger + to Voban the night I was first taken to the citadel. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I carry word for you to any one?” asked I. + </p> + <p> + There was a slight pause; then he said, “Tell my—Babette—Jacques + Dobrotte owes me ten francs—and—a leg—of mutton. Tell—my + Babette—to give my coat of beaver fur to Gabord the soldier. + Tell”...he sank back, but raised himself, and continued: “Tell my Babette + I weep with her.... Ah, mon grand homme de Calvaire—bon soir!” He + sank back again, but I roused him with one question more, vital to me. I + must have the countersign. + </p> + <p> + “Labrouk! Labrouk!” said I sharply. + </p> + <p> + He opened his dull, glazed eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Qui va la?” said I, and I waited anxiously. + </p> + <p> + Thought seemed to rally in him, and, staring—alas! how helpless and + how sad: that look of a man brought back for an instant from the Shadows!—his + lips moved. + </p> + <p> + “France,” was the whispered reply. + </p> + <p> + “Advance and give the countersign!” I urged. + </p> + <p> + “Jesu—” he murmured faintly. I drew from my breast the cross that + Mathilde had given me, and pressed it to his lips. He sighed softly, + lifted his hand to it, and then fell back, never to speak again. + </p> + <p> + After covering his face and decently laying the body out, I mounted the + horse again. Glancing up, I saw that this bad business had befallen not + twenty feet from a high Calvary at the roadside. + </p> + <p> + I was in a painful quandary. Did Labrouk mean that the countersign was + “Jesu,” or was that word the broken prayer of his soul as it hurried + forth? So strange a countersign I had never heard, and yet it might be + used in this Catholic country. This day might be some great feast of the + Church—possibly that of the naming of Christ (which was the case, as + I afterwards knew). I rode on, tossed about in my mind. So much hung on + this. If I could not give the countersign, I should have to fight my way + back again the road I came. But I must try my luck. So I went on, beating + up my heart to confidence; and now I came to the St. Louis Gate. A tiny + fire was burning near, and two sentinels stepped forward as I rode boldly + on the entrance. + </p> + <p> + “Qui va la?” was the sharp call. + </p> + <p> + “France,” was my reply, in a voice as like the peasant’s as possible. + </p> + <p> + “Advance and give the countersign,” came the demand. + </p> + <p> + Another voice called from the darkness of the wall: “Come and drink, + comrade; I’ve a brother with Bougainville.” + </p> + <p> + “Jesu,” said I to the sentinel, answering his demand for the countersign, + and I spurred on my horse idly, though my heart was thumping hard, for + there were several sturdy fellows lying beyond the dull handful of fire. + </p> + <p> + Instantly the sentinel’s hand came to my bridle-rein. “Halt!” roared he. + </p> + <p> + Surely some good spirit was with me then to prompt me, for, with a + careless laugh, as though I had not before finished the countersign, + “Christ,” I added—“Jesu Christ!” + </p> + <p> + With an oath the soldier let go the bridle-rein, the other opened the + gates, and I passed through. I heard the first fellow swearing roundly to + the others that he would “send yon courier to fires of hell, if he played + with him again so.” + </p> + <p> + The gates closed behind me, and I was in the town which had seen the worst + days and best moments of my life. I rode along at a trot, and once again + beyond the citadel was summoned by a sentinel. Safely passed on, I came + down towards the Chateau St. Louis. I rode boldly up to the great entrance + door, and handed the packet to the sentinel. + </p> + <p> + “From whom?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Look in the corner,” said I. “And what business is’t of yours?” + </p> + <p> + “There is no word in the corner,” answered he doggedly. “Is’t from + Monsieur le General at Cap Rouge?” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! Did you think it was from an English wolf?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + His dull face broke a little. “Is Jean Labrouk with Bougainville yet?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s done with Bougainville; he’s dead,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “Dead! dead!” said he, a sort of grin playing on his face. + </p> + <p> + I made a shot at a venture. “But you’re to pay his wife Babette the ten + francs and the leg of mutton in twenty-four hours, or his ghost will + follow you. Swallow that, pudding-head! And see you pay it, or every man + in our company swears to break a score of shingles on your bare back.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll pay, I’ll pay,” he said, and he took to trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Where shall I find Babette?” asked I. “I come from Isle aux Coudres; I + know not this rambling town.” + </p> + <p> + “A little house hugging the cathedral rear,” he explained. “Babette sweeps + out the vestry, and fetches water for the priests.” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” said I. “Take that to the Governor at once, and send the corporal + of the guard to have this horse fed and cared for, and he’s to carry back + the Governor’s messenger. I’ve further business for the General in the + town. And tell your captain of the guard to send and pick up two dead men + in the highway, just against the first Calvary beyond the town.” + </p> + <p> + He did my bidding, and I dismounted, and was about to get away, when I saw + the Chevalier de la Darante and the Intendant appear at the door. They + paused upon the steps. The Chevalier was speaking most earnestly: + </p> + <p> + “To a nunnery—a piteous shame! it should not be, your Excellency.” + </p> + <p> + “To decline upon Monsieur Doltaire, then?” asked Bigot, with a sneer. + </p> + <p> + “Your Excellency believes in no woman,” responded the Chevalier stiffly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah yes, in one!” was the cynical reply. + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible? And she remains a friend of your Excellency?” came back + in irony. + </p> + <p> + “The very best; she finds me unendurable.” + </p> + <p> + “Philosophy shirks the solving of that problem, your Excellency,” was the + cold reply. + </p> + <p> + “No, it is easy. The woman to be trusted is she who never trusts.” + </p> + <p> + “The paragon—or prodigy—who is she?” + </p> + <p> + “Even Madame Jamond.” + </p> + <p> + “She danced for you once, your Excellency, they tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “She was a devil that night; she drove us mad.” + </p> + <p> + So Doltaire had not given up the secret of that affair! There was silence + for a moment, and then the Chevalier said, “Her father will not let her go + to a nunnery—no, no. Why should he yield to the Church in this?” + </p> + <p> + Bigot shrugged a shoulder. “Not even to hide—shame?” + </p> + <p> + “Liar—ruffian!” said I through my teeth. The Chevalier answered for + me: + </p> + <p> + “I would stake my life on her truth and purity.” + </p> + <p> + “You forget the mock marriage, dear Chevalier.” + </p> + <p> + “It was after the manner of his creed and people.” + </p> + <p> + “It was after a manner we all have used at times.” + </p> + <p> + “Speak for yourself, your Excellency,” was the austere reply. + Nevertheless, I could see that the Chevalier was much troubled. + </p> + <p> + “She forgot race, religion, people—all, to spend still hours with a + foreign spy in prison,” urged Bigot, with damnable point and suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, sir!” said the Chevalier. “She is a girl once much beloved and ever + admired among us. Let not your rancour against the man be spent upon the + maid. Nay, more, why should you hate the man so? It is said, your + Excellency, that this Moray did not fire the shot that wounded you, but + one who has less reason to love you.” + </p> + <p> + Bigot smiled wickedly, but said nothing. + </p> + <p> + The Chevalier laid a hand on Bigot’s arm. “Will you not oppose the + Governor and the bishop? Her fate is sad enough.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not lift a finger. There are weightier matters. Let Doltaire, the + idler, the Don Amato, the hunter of that fawn, save her from the holy + ambush. Tut, tut, Chevalier. Let her go. Your nephew is to marry her + sister; let her be swallowed up—a shame behind the veil, the sweet + litany of the cloister.” + </p> + <p> + The Chevalier’s voice set hard as he said in quick reply, “My family + honour, Francois Bigot, needs no screen. And if you doubt that, I will + give you argument at your pleasure;” so saying, he turned and went back + into the chateau. + </p> + <p> + Thus the honest Chevalier kept his word, given to me when I released him + from serving me on the St. Lawrence. + </p> + <p> + Bigot came down the steps, smiling detestably, and passed me with no more + than a quick look. I made my way cautiously through the streets towards + the cathedral, for I owed a duty to the poor soldier who had died in my + arms, through whose death I had been able to enter the town. + </p> + <p> + Disarray and ruin met my sight at every hand. Shot and shell had made + wicked havoc. Houses where, as a hostage, I had dined, were battered and + broken; public buildings were shapeless masses, and dogs and thieves + prowled among the ruins. Drunken soldiers staggered past me; hags begged + for sous or bread at corners; and devoted priests and long-robed Recollet + monks, cowled and alert, hurried past, silent, and worn with labours, + watchings, and prayers. A number of officers in white uniforms rode by, + going towards the chateau, and a company of coureurs de bois came up from + Mountain Street, singing: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Giron, giran! le canon grand— + Commencez-vous, commencez-vous!” + </pre> + <p> + Here and there were fires lighted in the streets, though it was not cold, + and beside them peasants and soldiers drank and quarreled over food—for + starvation was abroad in the land. + </p> + <p> + By one of these fires, in a secluded street—for I had come a + roundabout way—were a number of soldiers of Languedoc’s regiment (I + knew them by their trick of headgear and their stoutness), and with them + reckless girls, who, in their abandonment, seemed to me like those + revellers in Herculaneum, who danced their way into the Cimmerian + darkness. I had no thought of staying there to moralize upon the theme; + but, as I looked, a figure came out of the dusk ahead, and moved swiftly + towards me. + </p> + <p> + It was Mathilde. She seemed bent on some errand, but the revellers at the + fire caught her attention, and she suddenly swerved towards them, and came + into the dull glow, her great black eyes shining with bewildered + brilliancy and vague keenness, her long fingers reaching out with a sort + of chafing motion. She did not speak till she was among them. I drew into + the shade of a broken wall, and watched. She looked all round the circle, + and then, without a word, took an iron crucifix which hung upon her + breast, and silently lifted it above their heads for a moment. I myself + felt a kind of thrill go through me, for her wild beauty was almost + tragical. Her madness was not grotesque, but solemn and dramatic. There + was something terribly deliberate in her strangeness; it was full of awe + to the beholder, more searching and painfully pitiful than melancholy. + </p> + <p> + Coarse hands fell away from wanton waists; ribaldry hesitated; hot faces + drew apart; and all at once a girl with a crackling laugh threw a tin cup + of liquor into the fire. Even as she did it, a wretched dwarf sprang into + the circle without a word, and, snatching the cup out of the flames, + jumped back again into the darkness, peering into it with a hollow laugh. + As he did so a soldier raised a heavy stick to throw at him; but the girl + caught him by the arms, and said, with a hoarse pathos, “My God, no, + Alphonse! It is my brother!” + </p> + <p> + Here Mathilde, still holding out the cross, said in a loud whisper, “‘Sh, + ‘sh! My children, go not to the palace, for there is Francois Bigot, and + he has a devil. But if you have no cottage, I will give you a home. I know + the way to it up in the hills. Poor children, see, I will make you happy.” + </p> + <p> + She took a dozen little wooden crosses from her girdle, and, stepping + round the circle, gave each person one. No man refused, save a young + militiaman; and when, with a sneering laugh, he threw his into the fire, + she stooped over him and said, “Poor boy! poor boy!” + </p> + <p> + She put her fingers on her lips, and whispered, “Beati immaculati—miserere + mei, Deus,” stray phrases gathered from the liturgy, pregnant to her + brain, order and truth flashing out of wandering and fantasy. No one of + the girls refused, but sat there, some laughing nervously, some silent; + for this mad maid had come to be surrounded with a superstitious reverence + in the eyes of the common people. It was said she had a home in the hills + somewhere, to which she disappeared for days and weeks, and came back hung + about the girdle with crosses; and it was also said that her red robe + never became frayed, shabby, or disordered. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she turned and left them. I let her pass, unchecked, and went on + towards the cathedral, humming an old French chanson. I did this because + now and then I met soldiers and patrols, and my free and careless manner + disarmed notice. Once or twice drunken soldiers stopped me and threw their + arms about me, saluting me on the cheeks a la mode, asking themselves to + drink with me. Getting free of them, I came on my way, and was glad to + reach the cathedral unchallenged. Here and there a broken buttress or a + splintered wall told where our guns had played upon it, but inside I could + hear an organ playing and a Miserere being chanted. I went round to its + rear, and there I saw the little house described by the sentinel at the + chateau. Coming to the door, I knocked, and it was opened at once by a + warm-faced, woman of thirty or so, who instantly brightened on seeing me. + “Ah, you come from Cap Rouge, m’sieu’,” she said, looking at my clothes—her + own husband’s, though she knew it not. + </p> + <p> + “I come from Jean,” said I, and stepped inside. + </p> + <p> + She shut the door, and then I saw, sitting in a corner, by a lighted + table, an old man, bowed and shrunken, white hair and white beard falling + all about him, and nothing of his features to be seen save high + cheek-bones and two hawklike eyes which peered up at me. + </p> + <p> + “So, so, from Jean,” he said in a high, piping voice. “Jean’s a pretty boy—ay, + ay, Jean’s like his father, but neither with a foot like mine—a foot + for the Court, said Frotenac to me—yes, yes, I knew the great + Frotenac—” + </p> + <p> + The wife interrupted his gossip. “What news from Jean?” said she. “He + hoped to come one day this week.” + </p> + <p> + “He says,” responded I gently, “that Jacques Dobrotte owes you ten francs + and a leg of mutton, and that you are to give his great beaver coat to + Gabord the soldier.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay, Gabord the soldier, he that the English spy near sent to heaven.” + quavered the old man. + </p> + <p> + The bitter truth was slowly dawning upon the wife. She was repeating my + words in a whisper, as if to grasp their full meaning. + </p> + <p> + “He said also,” I continued, “‘Tell Babette I weep with her.’” + </p> + <p> + She was very still and dazed; her fingers went to her white lips, and + stayed there for a moment. I never saw such a numb misery in any face. + </p> + <p> + “And last of all, he said, ‘Ah, mon grand homme de Calvaire—bon + soir!’” + </p> + <p> + She turned round, and went and sat down beside the old man, looked into + his face for a minute silently, and then said, “Grandfather, Jean is dead; + our Jean is dead.” + </p> + <p> + The old man peered at her for a moment, then broke into a strange laugh, + which had in it the reflection of a distant misery, and said, “Our little + Jean, our little Jean Labrouk! Ha! ha! There was Villon, Marmon, Gabriel, + and Gouloir, and all their sons; and they all said the same at the last, + ‘Mon grand homme—de Calvaire—bon soir!’ Then there was little + Jean, the pretty little Jean. He could not row a boat, but he could ride a + horse, and he had an eye like me. Ha, ha! I have seen them all say + good-night. Good-morning, my children, I will say one day, and I will give + them all the news, and I will tell them all I have done these hundred + years. Ha, ha, ha—” + </p> + <p> + The wife put her fingers on his lips, and, turning to me, said with a + peculiar sorrow, “Will they fetch him to me?” + </p> + <p> + I assured her that they would. + </p> + <p> + The old man fixed his eyes on me most strangely, and then, stretching out + his finger and leaning forward, he said, with a voice of senile wildness, + “Ah, ah, the coat of our little Jean!” + </p> + <p> + I stood there like any criminal caught in his shameful act. Though I had + not forgotten that I wore the dead man’s clothes, I could not think that + they would be recognized, for they seemed like others of the French army—white, + with violet facings. I can not tell to this day what it was that enabled + them to detect the coat; but there I stood condemned before them. + </p> + <p> + The wife sprang to her feet, came to me with a set face, and stared + stonily at the coat for an instant. Then, with a cry of alarm, she made + for the door; but I stepped quickly before her, and bade her wait till she + heard what I had to say. Like lightning it all went through my brain. I + was ruined if she gave an alarm: all Quebec would be at my heels, and my + purposes would be defeated. There was but one thing to do—tell her + the whole truth, and trust her; for I had at least done fairly by her and + by the dead man. + </p> + <p> + So I told them how Jean Labrouk had met his death; told them who I was, + and why I was in Quebec—how Jean died in my arms; and, taking from + my breast the cross that Mathilde had given me, I swore by it that every + word which I said was true. The wife scarcely stirred while I spoke, but + with wide dry eyes and hands clasping and unclasping heard me through. I + told her how I might have left Jean to die without a sign or message to + them, how I had put the cross to his lips as he went forth, and how by + coming here at all I placed my safety in her hands, and now, by telling my + story, my life itself. + </p> + <p> + It was a daring and a difficult task. When I had finished, both sat silent + for a moment, and then the old man said, “Ay, ay, Jean’s father and his + uncle Marmon were killed a-horseback, and by the knife. Ay, ay, it is our + way. Jean was good company—none better, mass over, on a Sunday. + Come, we will light candles for Jean, and comb his hair back sweet, and + masses shall be said, and—” + </p> + <p> + Again the woman interrupted, quieting him. Then she turned to me, and I + awaited her words with a desperate sort of courage. + </p> + <p> + “I believe you,” she said. “I remember you now. My sister was the wife of + your keeper at the common jail. You shall be safe. Alas! my Jean might + have died without a word to me all alone in the night. Merci mille fois, + monsieur!” Then she rocked a little to and fro, and the old man looked at + her like a curious child. At last, “I must go to him,” she said. “My poor + Jean must be brought home.” + </p> + <p> + I told her I had already left word concerning the body at headquarters. + She thanked me again. Overcome as she was, she went and brought me a + peasant’s hat and coat. Such trust and kindness touched me. Trembling, she + took from me the coat and hat I had worn, and she put her hands before her + eyes when she saw a little spot of blood upon the flap of a pocket. The + old man reached out his hands, and, taking them, he held them on his + knees, whispering to himself. + </p> + <p> + “You will be safe here,” the wife said to me. “The loft above is small, + but it will hide you, if you have no better place.” + </p> + <p> + I was thankful that I had told her all the truth. I should be snug here, + awaiting the affair in the cathedral on the morrow. There was Voban, but I + knew not of him, or whether he was open to aid or shelter me. His own + safety had been long in peril; he might be dead, for all I knew. I thanked + the poor woman warmly, and then asked her if the old man might not betray + me to strangers. She bade me leave all that to her—that I should be + safe for a while, at least. + </p> + <p> + Soon afterwards I went abroad, and made my way by a devious route to + Voban’s house. As I did so, I could see the lights of our fleet in the + Basin, and the camp-fires of our army on the Levis shore, on Isle Orleans, + and even at Montmorenci, and the myriad lights in the French encampment at + Beauport. How impossible it all looked—to unseat from this high rock + the Empire of France! Ay, and how hard it would be to get out of this same + city with Alixe! + </p> + <p> + Voban’s house stood amid a mass of ruins, itself broken a little, but + still sound enough to live in. There was no light. I clambered over + debris, made my way to his bedroom window, and tapped on the shutter. + There was no response. I tried to open it, but it would not stir. So I + thrust beneath it, on the chance of his finding it if he opened the + casement in the morning, a little piece of paper, with one word upon it—the + name of his brother. He knew my handwriting, and he would guess where + to-morrow would find me, for I had also hastily drawn upon the paper the + entrance of the cathedral. + </p> + <p> + I went back to the little house by the cathedral, and was admitted by the + stricken wife. The old man was abed. I climbed up to the small loft, and + lay there wide-awake for hours. At last came the sounds that I had waited + for, and presently I knew by the tramp beneath, and by low laments + floating up, that a wife was mourning over the dead body of her husband. I + lay long and listened to the varying sounds, but at last all became still, + and I fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXV. IN THE CATHEDRAL. + </h2> + <p> + I awoke with the dawn, and, dressing, looked out of the window, seeing the + brindled light spread over the battered roofs and ruins of the Lower Town. + A bell was calling to prayers in the Jesuit College not far away, and + bugle-calls told of the stirring garrison. Soldiers and stragglers passed + down the street near by, and a few starved peasants crept about the + cathedral with downcast eyes, eager for crumbs that a well-fed soldier + might cast aside. Yet I knew that in the Intendant’s Palace and among the + officers of the army there was abundance, with revelry and dissipation. + </p> + <p> + Presently I drew to the trap-door of my loft, and, raising it gently, came + down the ladder to the little hallway, and softly opened the door of the + room where Labrouk’s body lay. Candles were burning at his head and his + feet, and two peasants sat dozing in chairs near by. I could see Labrouk’s + face plainly in the flickering light: a rough, wholesome face it was, + refined by death, yet unshaven and unkempt, too. Here was work for Voban’s + shears and razor. Presently there was a footstep behind me, and, turning, + I saw in the half-light the widowed wife. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said I in a whisper, “I too weep with you. I pray for as true an + end for myself.” + </p> + <p> + “He was of the true faith, thank the good God,” she said sincerely. She + passed into the room, and the two watchers, after taking refreshment, left + the house. Suddenly she hastened to the door, called one back, and, + pointing to the body, whispered something. The peasant nodded and turned + away. She came back into the room, stood looking at the face of the dead + man for a moment, and bent over and kissed the crucifix clasped in the + cold hands. Then she stepped about the room, moving a chair and sweeping + up a speck of dust in a mechanical way. Presently, as if she again + remembered me, she asked me to enter the room. Then she bolted the outer + door of the house. I stood looking at the body of her husband, and said, + “Were it not well to have Voban the barber?” + </p> + <p> + “I have sent for him and for Gabord,” she replied. “Gabord was Jean’s good + friend. He is with General Montcalm. The Governor put him in prison + because of the marriage of Mademoiselle Duvarney, but Monsieur Doltaire + set him free, and now he serves General Montcalm. + </p> + <p> + “I have work in the cathedral,” continued the poor woman, “and I shall go + to it this morning as I have always gone. There is a little unused closet + in a gallery where you may hide, and still see all that happens. It is + your last look at the lady, and I will give it to you, as you gave me to + know of my Jean.” + </p> + <p> + “My last look?” I asked eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “She goes into the nunnery to-morrow, they say,” was the reply. “Her + marriage is to be set aside by the bishop to-day—in the cathedral. + This is her last night to live as such as I—but no, she will be + happier so.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said I, “I am a heretic, but I listened when your husband said, + ‘Mon grand homme de Calvaire, bon soir!’ Was the cross less a cross + because a heretic put it to his lips? Is a marriage less a marriage + because a heretic is the husband? Madame, you loved your Jean; if he were + living now, what would you do to keep him. Think, madame, is not love more + than all?” + </p> + <p> + She turned to the dead body. “Mon petit Jean!” she murmured, but made no + reply to me, and for many minutes the room was silent. At last she turned, + and said, “You must come at once, for soon the priests will be at the + church. A little later I will bring you some breakfast, and you must not + stir from there till I come to fetch you—no.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish to see Voban,” said I. + </p> + <p> + She thought a moment. “I will try to fetch him to you by-and-bye,” she + said. She did not speak further, but finished the sentence by pointing to + the body. + </p> + <p> + Presently, hearing footsteps, she drew me into another little room. “It is + the grandfather,” she said. “He has forgotten you already, and he must not + see you again.” + </p> + <p> + We saw the old man hobble into the room we had left, carrying in one arm + Jean’s coat and hat. He stood still, and nodded at the body and mumbled to + himself; then he went over and touched the hands and forehead, nodding + wisely; after which he came to his armchair, and, sitting down, spread the + coat over his knees, put the cap on it, and gossiped with himself: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “In eild our idle fancies all return, + The mind’s eye cradled by the open grave.” + </pre> + <p> + A moment later, the woman passed from the rear of the house to the vestry + door of the cathedral. After a minute, seeing no one near, I followed, + came to the front door, entered, and passed up a side aisle towards the + choir. There was no one to be seen, but soon the woman came out of the + vestry and beckoned to me nervously. I followed her quick movements, and + was soon in a narrow stairway, coming, after fifty steps or so, to a sort + of cloister, from which we went into a little cubiculum, or cell, with a + wooden lattice door which opened on a small gallery. Through the lattices + the nave amid choir could be viewed distinctly. + </p> + <p> + Without a word the woman turned and left me, and I sat down on a little + stone bench and waited. I saw the acolytes come and go, and priests move + back and forth before the altar; I smelt the grateful incense as it rose + when mass was said; I watched the people gather in little clusters at the + different shrines, or seek the confessional, or kneel to receive the + blessed sacrament. Many who came were familiar—among them + Mademoiselle Lucie Lotbiniere. Lucie prayed long before a shrine of the + Virgin, and when she rose at last her face bore signs of weeping. Also I + noticed her suddenly start as she moved down the aisle, for a figure came + forward from seclusion and touched her arm. As he half turned I saw that + it was Juste Duvarney. The girl drew back from him, raising her hand as if + in protest, and it struck me that her grief and her repulse of him had to + do with putting Alixe away into a nunnery. + </p> + <p> + I sat hungry and thirsty for quite three hours, and then the church became + empty, and only an old verger kept a seat by the door, half asleep, though + the artillery of both armies was at work, and the air was laden with the + smell of powder. (Until this time our batteries had avoided firing on the + churches.) At last I heard footsteps near me in the dark stairway, and I + felt for my pistols, for the feet were not those of Labrouk’s wife. I + waited anxiously, and was overjoyed to see Voban enter my hiding-place, + bearing some food. I greeted him warmly, but he made little demonstration. + He was like one who, occupied with some great matter, passed through the + usual affairs of life with a distant eye. Immediately he handed me a + letter, saying: + </p> + <p> + “M’sieu’, I give my word to hand you this—in a day or a year, as I + am able. I get your message to me this morning, and then I come to care + for Jean Labrouk, and so I find you here, and I give the letter. It come + to me last night.” + </p> + <p> + The letter was from Alixe. I opened it with haste, and, in the dim light, + read: + </p> + <p> + MY BELOVED HUSBAND: Oh, was there no power in earth or heaven to bring me + to your arms to-day? + </p> + <p> + To-morow they come to see my marriage annulled by the Church. And every + one will say it is annulled—every one but me. I, in God’s name, will + say no, though it break my heart to oppose myself to them all. + </p> + <p> + Why did my brother come back? He has been hard—O, Robert, he has + been hard upon me, and yet I was ever kind to him! My father, too, he + listens to the Church, and, though he likes not Monsieur Doltaire, he + works for him in a hundred ways without seeing it. I, alas! see it too + well, and my brother is as wax in monsieur’s hands. Juste loves Lucie + Lotbiniere—that should make him kind. She, sweet friend, does not + desert me, but is kept from me. She says she will not yield to Juste’s + suit until he yields to me. If—oh, if Madame Jamond had not gone to + Montreal! + </p> + <p> + ... As I was writing the foregoing sentence, my father asked to see me, + and we have had a talk—ah, a most bitter talk! + </p> + <p> + “Alixe,” said he, “this is our last evening together, and I would have it + peaceful.” + </p> + <p> + “My father,” said I, “it is not my will that this evening be our last; and + for peace, I long for it with all my heart.” + </p> + <p> + He frowned, and answered, “You have brought me trouble and sorrow. Mother + of God! was it not possible for you to be as your sister Georgette? I gave + her less love, yet she honours me more.” + </p> + <p> + “She honours you, my father, by a sweet, good life, and by marriage into + an honourable family, and at your word she gives her hand to Monsieur + Auguste de la Darante. She marries to your pleasure, therefore she has + peace and your love. I marry a man of my own choosing, a bitterly wronged + gentleman, and you treat me as some wicked thing. Is that like a father + who loves his child?” + </p> + <p> + “The wronged gentleman, as you call him, invaded that which is the pride + of every honest gentleman,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “And what is that?” asked I quietly, though I felt the blood beating at my + temples. + </p> + <p> + “My family honour, the good name and virtue of my daughter.” + </p> + <p> + I got to my feet, and looked my father in the eyes with an anger and a + coldness that hurts me now when I think of it, and I said, “I will not let + you speak so to me. Friendless though I be, you shall not. You have the + power to oppress me, but you shall not slander me to my face. Can not you + leave insults to my enemies?” + </p> + <p> + “I will never leave you to the insults of this mock marriage,” answered + he, angrily also. “Two days hence I take command of five thousand + burghers, and your brother Juste serves with General Montcalm. There is to + be last fighting soon between us and the English. I do not doubt of the + result, but I may fall, and your brother also, and, should the English + win, I will not leave you to him you call your husband. Therefore you + shall be kept safe where no alien hands may reach you. The Church will + hold you close.” + </p> + <p> + I calmed myself again while listening to him, and I asked, “Is there no + other way?” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Is there no Monsieur Doltaire?” said I. “He has a king’s blood in his + veins!” + </p> + <p> + He looked sharply at me. “You are mocking,” he replied. “No, no, that is + no way, either. Monsieur Doltaire must never mate with daughter of mine. I + will take care of that; the Church is a perfect if gentle jailer.” + </p> + <p> + I could bear it no longer. I knelt to him. I begged him to have pity on + me. I pleaded with him; I recalled the days when, as a child, I sat upon + his knee and listened to the wonderful tales he told; I begged him, by the + memory of all the years when he and I were such true friends to be kind to + me now, to be merciful—even though he thought I had done wrong—to + be merciful. I asked him to remember that I was a motherless girl, and + that if I had missed the way to happiness he ought not to make my path + bitter to the end. I begged him to give me back his love and confidence, + and, if I must for evermore be parted from you, to let me be with him, not + to put me away into a convent. + </p> + <p> + Oh, how my heart leaped when I saw his face soften! “Well, well,” he said, + “if I live, you shall be taken from the convent; but for the present, till + this fighting is over, it is the only safe place. There, too, you shall be + safe from Monsieur Doltaire.” + </p> + <p> + It was poor comfort. “But should you be killed, and the English take + Quebec?” said I. + </p> + <p> + “When I am dead,” he answered, “when I am dead, then there is your + brother.” + </p> + <p> + “And if he speaks for Monsieur Doltaire?” asked I. + </p> + <p> + “There is the Church and God always,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “And my own husband, the man who saved your life, my father,” I urged + gently; and when he would have spoken I threw myself into his arms—the + first time in such long, long weeks!—and, stopping his lips with my + fingers, burst into tears on his breast. I think much of his anger against + me passed, yet before he left he said he could not now prevent the + annulment of the marriage, even if he would, for other powers were at + work; which powers I supposed to be the Governor, for certain reasons of + enmity to my father and me—alas! how changed is he, the vain old + man!—and Monsieur Doltaire, whose ends I knew so well. So they will + unwed us to-morrow, Robert; but be sure that I shall never be unwed in my + own eyes, and that I will wait till I die, hoping you will come and take + me—oh, Robert, my husband—take me home. + </p> + <p> + If I had one hundred men, I would fight my way out of this city, and to + you; but, dear, I have none, not even Gabord, who is not let come near me. + There is but Voban. Yet he will bear you this, if it be possible, for he + comes to-night to adorn my fashionable brother. The poor Mathilde I have + not seen of late. She has vanished. When they began to keep me close, and + carried me off at last into the country, where we were captured by the + English, I could not see her, and my heart aches for her. + </p> + <p> + God bless you, Robert, and farewell. How we shall smile, when all this + misery is done! Oh, say we shall, say we shall smile, and all this misery + cease. Will you not take me home? Do you still love thy wife, thy + </p> + <p> + ALIXE? + </p> + <p> + I bade Voban come to me at the little house behind the church that night + at ten o’clock, and by then I should have arranged some plan of action. I + knew not whether to trust Gabord or no. I was sorry now that I had not + tried to bring Clark with me. He was fearless, and he knew the town well; + but he lacked discretion, and that was vital. + </p> + <p> + Two hours of waiting, then came a scene which is burned into my brain. I + looked down upon a mass of people, soldiers, couriers of the woods, + beggars, priests, camp followers, and anxious gentlefolk, come from + seclusion, or hiding, or vigils of war, to see a host of powers torture a + young girl who by suffering had been made a woman long before her time. + Out in the streets was the tramping of armed men, together with the call + of bugles and the sharp rattle of drums. Presently I heard the hoofs of + many horses, and soon afterwards there entered the door, and way was made + for him up the nave, the Marquis de Vaudreuil and his suite, with the + Chevalier de la Darante, the Intendant, and—to my indignation—Juste + Duvarney. + </p> + <p> + They had no sooner taken their places than, from a little side door near + the vestry, there entered the Seigneur Duvarney and Alixe, who, coming + down slowly, took places very near the chancel steps. The Seigneur was + pale and stern, and carried himself with great dignity. His glance never + shifted from the choir, where the priests slowly entered and took their + places, the aged and feeble bishop going falteringly to his throne. + Alixe’s face was pale and sorrowful, and yet it had a dignity and + self-reliance that gave it a kind of grandeur. A buzz passed through the + building, yet I noted, too, with gladness that there were tears on many + faces. + </p> + <p> + A figure stole in beside Alixe. It was Mademoiselle Lotbiniere, who + immediately was followed by her mother. I leaned forward, perfectly + hidden, and listened to the singsong voices of the priests, the musical + note of the responses, heard the Kyrie Eleison, the clanging of the belfry + bell as the host was raised by the trembling bishop. The silence which + followed the mournful voluntary played by the organ was most painful to + me. + </p> + <p> + At that moment a figure stepped from behind a pillar, and gave Alixe a + deep, scrutinizing look. It was Doltaire. He was graver than I had ever + seen him, and was dressed scrupulously in black, with a little white lace + showing at the wrists and neck. A handsomer figure it would be hard to + see; and I hated him for it, and wondered what new devilry was in his + mind. He seemed to sweep the church with a glance. Nothing could have + escaped that swift, searching look. His eyes were even raised to where I + was, so that I involuntarily drew back, though I knew he could not see me. + </p> + <p> + I was arrested suddenly by a curious disdainful, even sneering smile which + played upon his face as he looked at Vaudreuil and Bigot. There was in it + more scorn than malice, more triumph than active hatred. All at once I + remembered what he had said to me the day before: that he had commission + from the King through La Pompadour to take over the reins of government + from the two confederates, and send them to France to answer the charges + made against them. + </p> + <p> + At last the bishop came forward, and read from a paper as follows: + </p> + <p> + “Forasmuch as a well-beloved child of our Holy Church, Mademoiselle Alixe + Duvarney, of the parish of Beauport and of this cathedral parish, in this + province of New France, forgetting her manifest duty and our sacred + teaching, did illegally and in sinful error make feigned contract of + marriage with one Robert Moray, captain in a Virginian regiment, a + heretic, a spy, and an enemy to our country; and forasmuch as this was + done in violence of all nice habit and commendable obedience to Mother + Church and our national uses, we do hereby declare and make void this + alliance until such time as the Holy Father at Rome shall finally approve + our action and proclaiming. And it is enjoined upon Mademoiselle Alixe + Duvarney, on peril of her soul’s salvation, to obey us in this matter, and + neither by word or deed or thought have commerce more with this notorious + and evil heretic and foe of our Church and of our country. It is also the + plain duty of the faithful children of our Holy Church to regard this + Captain Moray with a pious hatred, and to destroy him without pity; and + any good cunning or enticement which should lure him to the punishment he + so much deserves shall be approved. Furthermore, Mademoiselle Alixe + Duvarney shall, until such times as there shall be peace in this land, and + the molesting English are driven back with slaughter—and for all + time, if the heart of our sister incline to penitence and love of Christ—be + confined within the Convent of the Ursulines, and cared for with great + tenderness.” + </p> + <p> + He left off reading, and began to address himself to Alixe directly; but + she rose in her place, and while surprise and awe seized the congregation, + she said: + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur, I must needs, at my father’s bidding, hear the annulment of + my marriage, but I will not hear this public exhortation. I am but a poor + girl, unlearned in the law, and I must needs submit to your power, for I + have no one here to speak for me. But my soul and my conscience I carry to + my Saviour, and I have no fear to answer Him. I am sorry that I have + offended against my people and my country and Holy Church, but I repent + not that I love and hold to my husband. You must do with me as you will, + but in this I shall never willingly yield.” + </p> + <p> + She turned to her father, and all the people breathed hard; for it passed + their understanding, and seemed most scandalous that a girl could thus + defy the Church, and answer the bishop in his own cathedral. Her father + rose, and then I saw her sway with faintness. I know not what might have + occurred, for the bishop stood with hand upraised and a great indignation + in his face, about to speak, when out of the desultory firing from our + batteries there came a shell, which burst even at the cathedral entrance, + tore away a portion of the wall, and killed and wounded a number of + people. + </p> + <p> + Then followed a panic which the priests in vain tried to quell. The people + swarmed into the choir and through the vestry. I saw Doltaire with Juste + Duvarney spring swiftly to the side of Alixe, and, with her father, put + her and Mademoiselle Lotbiniere into the pulpit, forming a ring round it, + and preventing the crowd from trampling on them, as, suddenly gone mad, + they swarmed past. The Governor, the Intendant, and the Chevalier de la + Darante did as much also for Madame Lotbiniere; and as soon as the crush + had in a little subsided, a number of soldiers cleared the way, and I saw + my wife led from the church. I longed to leap down there among them and + claim her, but that thought was madness, for I should have been food for + worms in a trice, so I kept my place. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVI. THE SECRET OF THE TAPESTRY + </h2> + <p> + That evening, at eight o’clock, Jean Labrouk was buried. A shell had burst + not a dozen paces from his own door, within the consecrated ground of the + cathedral, and in a hole it had made he was laid, the only mourners his + wife and his grandfather, and two soldiers of his company sent by General + Bougainville to bury him. I watched the ceremony from my loft, which had + one small dormer window. It was dark, but burning buildings in the Lower + Town made all light about the place. I could hear the grandfather mumbling + and talking to the body as it was lowered into the ground. While yet the + priest was hastily reading prayers, a dusty horseman came riding to the + grave, and dismounted. + </p> + <p> + “Jean,” he said, looking at the grave, “Jean Labrouk, a man dies well that + dies with his gaiters on, aho!... What have you said for Jean Labrouk, + m’sieu’?” he added to the priest. + </p> + <p> + The priest stared at him, as though he had presumed. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Gabord. “Well?” + </p> + <p> + The priest answered nothing, but prepared to go, whispering a word of + comfort to the poor wife. Gabord looked at the soldiers, looked at the + wife, at the priest, then spread out his legs and stuck his hands down + into his pockets, while his horse rubbed its nose against his shoulder. He + fixed his eyes on the grave, and nodded once or twice musingly. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said at last, as if he had found a perfect virtue, and the one + or only thing that could be said, “well, he never eat his words, that + Jean.” + </p> + <p> + A moment afterwards he came into the house with Babette, leaving one of + the soldiers holding his horse. After the old man had gone, I heard him + say, “Were you at mass to-day? And did you see all?” + </p> + <p> + And when she had answered yes, he continued: “It was a mating as birds + mate, but mating was it, and holy fathers and Master Devil Doltaire can’t + change it till cock-pheasant Moray come rocketing to ‘s grave. They would + have hanged me for my part in it, but I repent not, for they have wickedly + hunted this little lady.” + </p> + <p> + “I weep with her,” said Jean’s wife. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay, weep on, Babette,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Has she asked help of you?” said the wife. + </p> + <p> + “Truly; but I know not what says she, for I read not, but I know her + pecking. Here it is. But you must be secret.” + </p> + <p> + Looking through a crack in the floor, I could plainly see them. She took + the letter from him and read aloud: + </p> + <p> + “If Gabord the soldier have a good heart still, as ever he had in the + past, he will again help a poor friendless woman. She needs him, for all + are against her. Will he leave her alone among her enemies? Will he not + aid her to fly? At eight o’clock to-morrow night she will be taken to the + Convent of the Ursulines, to be there shut in. Will he not come to her + before that time?” + </p> + <p> + For a moment after the reading there was silence, and I could see the + woman looking at him curiously. “What will you do?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “My faith, there’s nut to crack, for I have little time. This letter but + reached me with the news of Jean, two hours ago, and I know not what to + do, but, scratching my head, here comes word from General Montcalm that I + must ride to Master Devil Doltaire with a letter, and I must find him + wherever he may be, and give it straight. So forth I come; and I must be + at my post again by morn, said the General.” + </p> + <p> + “It is now nine o’clock, and she will be in the convent,” said the woman + tentatively. + </p> + <p> + “Aho!” he answered, “and none can enter there but Governor, if holy Mother + say no. So now goes Master Devil there? ‘Gabord,’ quoth he, ‘you shall + come with me to the convent at ten o’clock, bringing three stout soldiers + of the garrison. Here’s an order on Monsieur Ramesay, the Commandant. + Choose you the men, and fail me not, or you shall swing aloft, dear + Gabord.’ Sweet lovers of hell, but Master Devil shall have swinging too + one day.” He put his thumb to his nose, and spread his fingers out. + </p> + <p> + Presently he seemed to note something in the woman’s eyes, for he spoke + almost sharply to her: “Jean Labrouk was honest man, and kept faith with + comrades.” + </p> + <p> + “And I keep faith too, comrade,” was the answer. + </p> + <p> + “Gabord’s a brute to doubt you,” he rejoined quickly, and he drew from his + pocket a piece of gold, and made her take it, though she much resisted. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile my mind was made up. I saw, I thought, through “Master Devil’s” + plan, and I felt, too, that Gabord would not betray me. In any case, + Gabord and I could fight it out. If he opposed me, it was his life or + mine, for too much was at stake, and all my plans were now changed by his + astounding news. At that moment Voban entered the room without knocking. + Here was my cue, and so, to prevent explanations, I crept quickly down, + opened the door, came in on them. + </p> + <p> + They wheeled at my footsteps; the woman gave a little cry, and Gabord’s + hand went to his pistol. There was a wild sort of look in his face, as + though he could not trust his eyes. I took no notice of the menacing + pistol, but went straight to him and held out my hand. + </p> + <p> + “Gabord,” said I, “you are not my jailer now.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll be your guard to citadel,” said he, after a moment’s dumb surprise, + refusing my outstretched hand. + </p> + <p> + “Neither guard nor jailer any more, Gabord,” said I seriously. “We’ve had + enough of that, my friend.” + </p> + <p> + The soldier and the jailer had been working in him, and his fingers + trifled with the trigger. In all things he was the foeman first. But now + something else was working in him. I saw this, and added pointedly, “No + more cage, Gabord, not even for reward of twenty thousand livres and at + command of Holy Church.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled grimly, too grimly, I thought, and turned inquiringly to + Babette. In a few words she told him all, tears dropping from her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “If you take him, you betray me,” she said; “and what would Jean say, if + he knew?” + </p> + <p> + “Gabord,” said I, “I come not as a spy; I come to seek my wife, and she + counts you as her friend. Do harm to me, and you do harm to her. Serve me, + and you serve her. Gabord, you said to her once that I was an honourable + man.” + </p> + <p> + He put up his pistol. “Aho, you’ve put your head in the trap. Stir, and + click goes the spring.” + </p> + <p> + “I must have my wife,” I continued. “Shall the nest you helped to make go + empty?” + </p> + <p> + I worked upon him to such purpose that, all bristling with war at first, + he was shortly won over to my scheme, which I disclosed to him while the + wife made us a cup of coffee. Through all our talk Voban had sat eying us + with a covert interest, yet showing no excitement. He had been unable to + reach Alixe. She had been taken to the convent, and immediately afterwards + her father and brother had gone their ways—Juste to General + Montcalm, and the Seigneur to the French camp. Thus Alixe did not know + that I was in Quebec. + </p> + <p> + An hour after this I was marching, with two other men and Gabord, to the + Convent of the Ursulines, dressed in the ordinary costume of a French + soldier, got from the wife of Jean Labrouk. In manner and speech though I + was somewhat dull, my fellows thought, I was enough like a peasant soldier + to deceive them, and my French was more fluent than their own. I was + playing a desperate game; yet I liked it, for it had a fine spice of + adventure apart from the great matter at stake. If I could but carry it + off, I should have sufficient compensation for all my miseries, in spite + of their twenty thousand livres and Holy Church. + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes we came to the convent, and halted outside, waiting for + Doltaire. Presently he came, and, looking sharply at us all, he ordered + two to wait outside, and Gabord and myself to come with him. Then he stood + looking at the building curiously for a moment. A shell had broken one + wing of it, and this portion had been abandoned; but the faithful Sisters + clung still to their home, though urged constantly by the Governor to + retire to the Hotel Dieu, which was outside the reach of shot and shell. + This it was their intention soon to do, for within the past day or so our + batteries had not sought to spare the convent. As Doltaire looked he + laughed to himself, and then said, “Too quiet for gay spirits, this + hearse. Come, Gabord, and fetch this slouching fellow,” nodding towards + me. + </p> + <p> + Then he knocked loudly. No one came, and he knocked again and again. At + last the door was opened by the Mother Superior, who was attended by two + others. She started at seeing Doltaire. + </p> + <p> + “What do you wish, monsieur?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I come on business of the King, good Mother,” he replied seriously, and + stepped inside. + </p> + <p> + “It is a strange hour for business,” she said severely. + </p> + <p> + “The King may come at all hours,” he answered soothingly: “is it not so? + By the law he may enter when he wills.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not the King, monsieur,” she objected, with her head held up + sedately. + </p> + <p> + “Or the Governor may come, good Mother?” + </p> + <p> + “You are not the Governor, Monsieur Doltaire,” she said, more sharply + still. + </p> + <p> + “But a Governor may demand admittance to this convent, and by the order of + his Most Christian Majesty he may not be refused: is it not so?” + </p> + <p> + “Must I answer the catechism of Monsieur Doltaire?” + </p> + <p> + “But is it not so?” he asked again urbanely. + </p> + <p> + “It is so, yet how does that concern you, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “In every way,” and he smiled. + </p> + <p> + “This is unseemly, monsieur. What is your business?” + </p> + <p> + “The Governor’s business, good Mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let the Governor’s messenger give his message and depart in peace,” + she answered, her hand upon the door. + </p> + <p> + “Not the Governor’s messenger, but the Governor himself,” he rejoined + gravely. + </p> + <p> + He turned and was about to shut the door, but she stopped him. “This is no + house for jesting, monsieur,” she said. “I will arouse the town if you + persist.—Sister,” she added to one standing near, “the bell!” + </p> + <p> + “You fill your office with great dignity and merit, Mere St. George,” he + said, as he put out his hand and stayed the Sister. “I commend you for + your discretion. Read this,” he continued, handing her a paper. + </p> + <p> + A Sister held a light, and the Mother read it. As she did so Doltaire made + a motion to Gabord, and he shut the door quickly on us. Mere St. George + looked up from the paper, startled and frightened too. + </p> + <p> + “Your Excellency!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “You are the first to call me so,” he replied. “I thought to leave + untouched this good gift of the King, and to let the Marquis de Vaudreuil + and the admirable Bigot untwist the coil they have made. But no. After + some too generous misgivings, I now claim my own. I could not enter here, + to speak with a certain lady, save as the Governor, but as the Governor I + now ask speech with Mademoiselle Duvarney. Do you hesitate?” he added. “Do + you doubt that signature of his Majesty? Then see this. Here is a line + from the Marquis de Vaudreuil, the late Governor. It is not dignified, one + might say it is craven, but it is genuine.” + </p> + <p> + Again the distressed lady read, and again she said, “Your Excellency!” + Then, “You wish to see her in my presence, your Excellency?” + </p> + <p> + “Alone, good Mother,” he softly answered. + </p> + <p> + “Your Excellency, will you, the first officer in the land, defy our holy + rules, and rob us of our privilege to protect and comfort and save?” + </p> + <p> + “I defy nothing,” he replied. “The lady is here against her will, a + prisoner. She desires not your governance and care. In any case, I must + speak with her; and be assured, I honour you the more for your solicitude, + and will ask your counsel when I have finished talk with her.” + </p> + <p> + Was ever man so crafty? After a moment’s thought she turned, dismissed the + others, and led the way, and Gabord and I followed. We were bidden to wait + outside a room, well lighted but bare, as I could see through the open + door. Doltaire entered, smiling, and then bowed the nun on her way to + summon Alixe. Gabord and I stood there, not speaking, for both were + thinking of the dangerous game now playing. In a few minutes the Mother + returned, bringing Alixe. The light from the open door shone upon her + face. My heart leaped, for there was in her look such a deep sorrow. She + was calm, save for those shining yet steady eyes; they were like furnaces, + burning up the colour of her cheeks. She wore a soft black gown, with no + sign of ornament, and her gold-brown hair was bound with a piece of black + velvet ribbon. Her beauty was deeper than I had ever seen it; a peculiar + gravity seemed to have added years to her life. As she passed me her + sleeve brushed my arm, as it did that day I was arrested in her father’s + house. She started, as though I had touched her fingers, but only half + turned toward me, for her mind was wholly occupied with the room where + Doltaire was. + </p> + <p> + At that moment Gabord coughed slightly, and she turned quickly to him. Her + eyes flashed intelligence, and presently, as she passed in, a sort of hope + seemed to have come on her face to lighten its painful pensiveness. The + Mother Superior entered with her, the door closed, and then, after a + little, the Mother came out again. As she did so I saw a look of immediate + purpose in her face, and her hurrying step persuaded me she was bent on + some project of espial. So I made a sign to Gabord and followed her. As + she turned the corner of the hallway just beyond, I stepped forward + silently and watched her enter a room that would, I knew, be next to this + we guarded. + </p> + <p> + Listening at the door for a moment, I suddenly and softly turned the + handle and entered, to see the good Mother with a panel drawn in the wall + before her, and her face set to it. She stepped back as I shut the door + and turned the key in the lock. I put my finger to my lips, for she seemed + about to cry out. + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” said I. “I watch for those who love her. I am here to serve her—and + you.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a servant of the Seigneur’s?” she said, the alarm passing out of + her face. + </p> + <p> + “I served the Seigneur, good Mother,” I answered, “and I would lay down my + life for ma’m’selle.” + </p> + <p> + “You would hear?” she asked, pointing to the panel. + </p> + <p> + I nodded. + </p> + <p> + “You speak French not like a Breton or Norman,” she added. “What is your + province?” + </p> + <p> + “I am an Auvergnian.” + </p> + <p> + She said no more, but motioned to me, enjoining silence also by a sign, + and I stood with her beside the panel. Before it was a piece of tapestry + which was mere gauze in one place, and I could see through and hear + perfectly. The room we were in was at least four feet higher than the + other, and we looked down on its occupants. + </p> + <p> + “Presently, holy Mother,” said I, “all shall be told true to you, if you + wish it. It is not your will to watch and hear; it is because you love the + lady. But I love her, too, and I am to be trusted. It is not business for + such as you.” + </p> + <p> + She saw my implied rebuke, and said, as I thought a little abashed, “You + will tell me all? And if he would take her forth, give me alarm in the + room opposite yonder door, and stay them, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Stay them, holy Mother, at the price of my life. I have the honour of her + family in my hands.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at me gravely, and I assumed a peasant openness of look and + honesty. She was deceived completely, and, without further speech, she + stepped to the door like a ghost and was gone. I never saw a human being + so noiseless, so uncanny. Our talk had been carried on silently, and I had + closed the panel quietly, so that we could not be heard by Alixe or + Doltaire. Now I was alone, to see and hear my wife in speech with my + enemy, the man who had made a strong, and was yet to make a stronger fight + to unseat me in her affections. + </p> + <p> + There was a moment’s compunction, in which I hesitated to see this + meeting; but there was Alixe’s safety to be thought on, and what might he + not here disclose of his intentions!—knowing which, I should act + with judgment, and not in the dark. I trusted Alixe, though I knew well + that this hour would see the great struggle in her between this scoundrel + and myself. I knew that he had ever had a sort of power over her, even + while she loathed his character; that he had a hundred graces I had not, + place which I had not, an intellect that ever delighted me, and a will + like iron when it was called into action. I thought for one moment longer + ere I moved the panel. My lips closed tight, and I felt a pang at my + heart. + </p> + <p> + Suppose, in this conflict, this singular man, acting on a nature already + tried beyond reason, should bend it to his will, to which it was, in some + radical ways, inclined? Well, if that should be, then I would go forth and + never see her more. She must make her choice out of her own heart and + spirit, and fight this fight alone, and having fought, and lost or won, + the result should be final, should stand, though she was my wife, and I + was bound in honour to protect her from all that might invade her loyalty, + to cherish her through all temptation and distress. But our case was a + strange one, and it must be dealt with according to its strangeness—our + only guides our consciences. There were no precedents to meet our needs; + our way had to be hewn out of a noisome, pathless wood. I made up my mind: + I would hear and see all. So I slid the panel softly, and put my eyes to + the tapestry. How many times did I see, in the next hour, my wife’s eyes + upraised to this very tapestry, as if appealing to the Madonna upon it! + How many times did her eyes look into mine without knowing it! And more + than once Doltaire followed her glance, and a faint smile passed over his + face, as if he saw and was interested in the struggle in her, apart from + his own passion and desires. + </p> + <p> + When first I looked in, she was standing near a tall high-backed chair, in + almost the same position as on the day when Doltaire told me of Braddock’s + death, accused me of being a spy, and arrested me. It gave me, too, a + thrill to see her raise her handkerchief to her mouth as if to stop a cry, + as she had done then, the black sleeve falling away from her perfect + rounded arm, now looking almost like marble against the lace. She held her + handkerchief to her lips for quite a minute; and indeed it covered more + than a little of her face, so that the features most showing were her + eyes, gazing at Doltaire with a look hard to interpret, for there seemed + in it trouble, entreaty, wonder, resistance, and a great sorrow—no + fear, trepidation, or indirectness. + </p> + <p> + His disturbing words were these: “To-night I am the Governor of this + country. You once doubted my power—that was when you would save your + lover from death. I proved it in that small thing—I saved him. Well, + when you saw me carried off to the Bastile—it looked like that—my + power seemed to vanish: is it not so? We have talked of this before, but + now is a time to review all things again. And once more I say I am the + Governor of New France. I have had the commission in my hands ever since I + came back. But I have spoken of it to no one—except your lover.” + </p> + <p> + “My husband!” she said steadily, crushing the handkerchief in her hand, + which now rested upon the chair-arm. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, your husband—after a fashion. I did not care to use + this as an argument. I chose to win you by personal means alone, to have + you give yourself to Tinoir Doltaire because you set him before any other + man. I am vain, you see; but then vanity is no sin when one has fine + aspirations, and I aspire to you!” + </p> + <p> + She made a motion with her hand. “Oh, can you not spare me this to-day of + all days in my life—your Excellency?” + </p> + <p> + “Let it be plain ‘monsieur,’” he answered. “I can not spare you, for this + day decides all. As I said, I desired you. At first my wish was to possess + you at any cost: I was your hunter only. I am still your hunter, but in a + different way. I would rather have you in my arms than save New France; + and with Montcalm I could save it. Vaudreuil is a blunderer and a fool; he + has sold the country. But what ambition is that? New France may come and + go, and be forgotten, and you and I be none the worse. There are other + provinces to conquer. But for me there is only one province, and I will + lift my standard there, and build a grand chateau of my happiness there. + That is my hope, and that is why I come to conquer it, and not the + English. Let the English go—all save one, and he must die. Already + he is dead; he died to-day at the altar of the cathedral—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, no!” broke in Alixe, her voice low and firm. + </p> + <p> + “But yes,” he said; “but yes, he is dead to you forever. The Church has + said so; the state says so; your people say so; race and all manner of + good custom say so; and I, who love you better—yes, a hundred times + better than he—say so.” + </p> + <p> + She made a hasty, deprecating gesture with her hand. “Oh, carry this old + song elsewhere,” she said, “for I am sick of it.” There were now both + scorn and weariness in her tone. + </p> + <p> + He had a singular patience, and he resented nothing. “I understand,” he + went on, “what it was sent your heart his way. He came to you when you + were yet a child, before you had learnt the first secret of life. He was a + captive, a prisoner, he had a wound got in fair fighting, and I will do + him the credit to say he was an honest man; he was no spy.” + </p> + <p> + She looked up at him with a slight flush, almost of gratitude. “I know + that well,” she returned. “I knew there was other cause than spying at the + base of all ill treatment of him. I know that you, you alone, kept him + prisoner here five long years.” + </p> + <p> + “Not I; the Grande Marquise—for weighty reasons. You should not fret + at those five years, since it gave you what you have cherished so much, a + husband—after a fashion. But yet we will do him justice: he is an + honourable fighter, he has parts and graces of a rude order. But he will + never go far in life; he has no instincts and habits common with you; it + has been, so far, a compromise, founded upon the old-fashioned romance of + ill-used captive and soft-hearted maid; the compassion, too, of the + superior for the low, the free for the caged.” + </p> + <p> + “Compassion such as your Excellency feels for me, no doubt,” she said, + with a slow pride. + </p> + <p> + “You are caged, but you may be free,” he rejoined meaningly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, in the same market open to him, and at the same price of honour,” + she replied, with dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Will you not sit down?” he now said, motioning her to a chair politely, + and taking one himself, thus pausing before he answered her. + </p> + <p> + I was prepared to see him keep a decorous distance from her. I felt he was + acting upon deliberation; that he was trusting to the power of his + insinuating address, his sophistry, to break down barriers. It was as if + he felt himself at greater advantage, making no emotional demonstrations, + so allaying her fears, giving her time to think; for it was clear he hoped + to master her intelligence, so strong a part of her. + </p> + <p> + She sat down in the high-backed chair, and I noted that our batteries + began to play upon the town—an unusual thing at night. It gave me a + strange feeling—the perfect stillness of the holy place, the quiet + movement of this tragedy before me, on which broke, with no modifying + noises or turmoil, the shouting cannonade. Nature, too, it would have + seemed, had forged a mood in keeping with the time, for there was no air + stirring when we came in, and a strange stillness had come upon the + landscape. In the pause, too, I heard a long, soft shuffling of feet in + the corridor—the evening procession from the chapel—and a slow + chant: + </p> + <p> + “I am set down in a wilderness, O Lord, I am alone. If a strange voice + call, O teach me what to say; if I languish, O give me Thy cup to drink; O + strengthen Thou my soul. Lord, I am like a sparrow far from home; O bring + me to Thine honourable house. Preserve my heart, encourage me, according + to Thy truth.” + </p> + <p> + The words came to us distinctly yet distantly, swelled softly, and died + away, leaving Alixe and Doltaire seated and looking at each other. Alixe’s + hands were clasped in her lap. + </p> + <p> + “Your honour is above all price,” he said at last in reply to her. “But + what is honour in this case of yours, in which I throw the whole interest + of my life, stake all? For I am convinced that, losing, the book of fate + will close for me. Winning, I shall begin again, and play a part in France + which men shall speak of when I am done with all. I never had ambition for + myself; for you, Alixe Duvarney, a new spirit lives in me.... I will be + honest with you. At first I swore to cool my hot face in your bosom; and I + would have done that at any price, and yet I would have stood by that same + dishonour honourably to the end. Never in my whole life did I put my whole + heart in any—episode—of admiration: I own it, for you to think + what you will. There never was a woman whom, loving to-day,”—he + smiled—“I could not leave to-morrow with no more than a pleasing + kind of regret. Names that I ought to have recalled I forgot; incidents + were cloudy, like childish remembrances. I was not proud of it; the + peasant in me spoke against it sometimes. I even have wished that I, half + peasant, had been—” + </p> + <p> + “If only you had been all peasant, this war, this misery of mine, had + never been,” she interrupted. + </p> + <p> + He nodded with an almost boyish candour. “Yes, yes, but I was half prince + also; I had been brought up, one foot in a cottage and another in a + palace. But for your misery: is it, then, misery? Need it be so? But lift + your finger and all will be well. Do you wish to save your country? Would + that be compensation? Then I will show you the way. We have three times as + many soldiers as the English, though of poorer stuff. We could hold this + place, could defeat them, if we were united and had but two thousand men. + We have fifteen thousand. As it is now, Vaudreuil balks Montcalm, and that + will ruin us in the end unless you make it otherwise. You would be a + patriot? Then shut out forever this English captain from your heart, and + open its doors to me. To-morrow I will take Vaudreuil’s place, put your + father in Bigot’s, your brother in Ramesay’s—they are both perfect + and capable; I will strengthen the excellent Montcalm’s hands in every + way, will inspire the people, and cause the English to raise this siege. + You and I will do this: the Church will bless us, the State will thank us; + your home and country will be safe and happy, your father and brother + honoured. This, and far, far greater things I will do for your sake.” + </p> + <p> + He paused. He had spoken with a deep power, such as I knew he could use, + and I did not wonder that she paled a little, even trembled before it. + </p> + <p> + “Will you not do it for France?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I will not do it for France,” he answered. “I will do it for you alone. + Will you not be your country’s friend? It is no virtue in me to plead + patriotism—it is a mere argument, a weapon that I use; but my heart + is behind it, and it is a means to that which you will thank me for one + day. I would not force you to anything, but I would persuade your reason, + question your foolish loyalty to a girl’s mistake. Can you think that you + are right? You have no friend that commends your cause; the whole country + has upbraided you, the Church has cut you off from the man. All is against + reunion with him, and most of all your own honour. Come with me, and be + commended and blessed here, while over in France homage shall be done you. + For you I would take from his Majesty a dukedom which he has offered me + more than once.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, with a passionate tone, he continued: “Your own heart is + speaking for me. Have I not seen you tremble when I come near you?” + </p> + <p> + He rose and came forward a step or two. “You thought it was fear of me. It + was fear, but fear of that in you which was pleading for me, while you had + sworn yourself away to him who knows not and can never know how to love + you, who has nothing kin with you in mind or heart—an alien of poor + fortune, and poorer birth and prospects.” + </p> + <p> + He fixed his eyes upon her, and went on, speaking with forceful quietness: + “Had there been cut away that mistaken sense of duty to him, which I + admire unspeakably—yes, though it is misplaced—you and I would + have come to each other’s arms long ago. Here in your atmosphere I feel + myself possessed, endowed. I come close to you, and something new in me + cries out simply, ‘I love you, Alixe, I love you!’ See, all the damnable + part of me is burned up by the clear fire of your eyes; I stand upon the + ashes, and swear that I can not live without you. Come—come—” + </p> + <p> + He stepped nearer still, and she rose like one who moves under some + fascination, and I almost cried out, for in that moment she was his, his—I + felt it; he possessed her like some spirit; and I understood it, for the + devilish golden beauty of his voice was like music, and he had spoken with + great skill. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” he said, “and know where all along your love has lain. That other + way is only darkness—the convent, which will keep you buried, while + you will never have heart for the piteous seclusion, till your life is + broken all to pieces; till you have no hope, no desire, no love, and at + last, under a cowl, you look out upon the world, and, with a dead heart, + see it as in a pale dream, and die at last: you, born to be a wife, + without a husband; endowed to be the perfect mother, without a child; to + be the admired of princes, a moving, powerful figure to influence great + men, with no salon but the little bare cell where you pray. With me all + that you should be you will be. You have had a bad, dark dream; wake, and + come into the sun with me. Once I wished for you as the lover only; now, + by every hope I ever might have had, I want you for my wife.” + </p> + <p> + He held out his arms to her and smiled, and spoke one or two low words + which I could not hear. I had stood waiting death against the citadel + wall, with the chance of a reprieve hanging between uplifted muskets and + my breast; but that suspense was less than this, for I saw him, not + moving, but standing there waiting for her, the warmth of his devilish + eloquence about him, and she moving toward him. + </p> + <p> + “My darling,” I heard him say, “come, till death...us do part, and let no + man put asunder.” + </p> + <p> + She paused, and, waking from the dream, drew herself together, as though + something at her breast hurt her, and she repeated his words like one + dazed—“Let no man put asunder!” + </p> + <p> + With a look that told of her great struggle, she moved to a shrine of the + Virgin in the corner, and, clasping her hands before her breast for a + moment, said something I could not hear, before she turned to Doltaire, + who had now taken another step towards her. By his look I knew that he + felt his spell was broken; that his auspicious moment had passed; that + now, if he won her, it must be by harsh means. + </p> + <p> + For she said: “Monsieur Doltaire, you have defeated yourself. ‘Let no man + put asunder’ was my response to my husband’s ‘Whom God hath joined,’ when + last I met him face to face. Nothing can alter that while he lives, nor + yet when he dies, for I have had such a sorrowful happiness in him that if + I were sure he were dead I would never leave this holy place—never. + But he lives, and I will keep my vow. Holy Church has parted us, but yet + we are not parted. You say that to think of him now is wrong, reflects + upon me. I tell you, monsieur, that if it were a wrong a thousand times + greater I would do it. To me there can be no shame in following till I die + the man who took me honourably for his wife.” + </p> + <p> + He made an impatient gesture and smiled ironically. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I care not what you say or think,” she went on. “I know not of things + canonical and legal; the way that I was married to him is valid in his + country and for his people. Bad Catholic you call me, alas! But I am a + true wife, who, if she sinned, sinned not knowingly, and deserves not this + tyranny and shame.” + </p> + <p> + “You are possessed with a sad infatuation,” he replied persuasively. “You + are not the first who has suffered so. It will pass, and leave you sane—leave + you to me. For you are mine; what you felt a moment ago you will feel + again, when this romantic martyrdom of yours has wearied you.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Doltaire,” she said, with a successful effort at calmness, + though I could see her trembling too, “it is you who are mistaken, and I + will show you how. But first: You have said often that I have unusual + intelligence. You have flattered me in that, I doubt not, but still here + is a chance to prove yourself sincere. I shall pass by every wicked means + that you took first to ruin me, to divert me to a dishonest love (though I + knew not what you meant at the time), and, failing, to make me your wife. + I shall not refer to this base means to reach me in this sacred place, + using the King’s commission for such a purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “I would use it again and do more, for the same ends,” he rejoined, with + shameless candour. + </p> + <p> + She waved her hand impatiently. “I pass all that by. You shall listen to + me as I have listened to you, remembering that what I say is honest, if it + has not your grace and eloquence. You say that I will yet come to you, + that I care for you and have cared for you always, and that—that + this other—is a sad infatuation. Monsieur, in part you are right.” + </p> + <p> + He came another step forward, for he thought he saw a foothold again; but + she drew back to the chair, and said, lifting her hand against him, “No, + no, wait till I have done. I say that you are right in part. I will not + deny that, against my will, you have always influenced me; that, try as I + would, your presence moved me, and I could never put you out of my mind, + out of my life. At first I did not understand it, for I knew how bad you + were. I was sure you did evil because you loved it; that to gratify + yourself you would spare no one: a man without pity—” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary,” he interrupted, with a sour sort of smile, “pity is + almost a foible with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Not real pity,” she answered. “Monsieur, I have lived long enough to know + what pity moves you. It is the moment’s careless whim; a pensive pleasure, + a dramatic tenderness. Wholesome pity would make you hesitate to harm + others. You have no principles—” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, many,” he urged politely, as he eyed her with admiration. + </p> + <p> + “Ah no, monsieur; habits, not principles. Your life has been one long + irresponsibility. In the very maturity of your powers, you use them to win + to yourself, to your empty heart, a girl who has tried to live according + to the teachings of her soul and conscience. Were there not women + elsewhere to whom it didn’t matter—your abandoned purposes? Why did + you throw your shadow on my path? You are not, never were, worthy of a + good woman’s love.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed with a sort of bitterness. “Your sinner stands between two + fires—” he said. She looked at him inquiringly, and he added, “the + punishment he deserves and the punishment he does not deserve. But it is + interesting to be thus picked out upon the stone, however harsh the + picture. You said I influenced you—well?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” she went on, “there were times when, listening to you, I + needed all my strength to resist. I have felt myself weak and shaking when + you came into the room. There was something in you that appealed to me, I + know not what; but I do know that it was not the best of me, that it was + emotional, some strange power of your personality—ah yes, I can + acknowledge all now. You had great cleverness, gifts that startled and + delighted; but yet I felt always, and that feeling grew and grew, that + there was nothing in you wholly honest, that by artifice you had frittered + away what once may have been good in you. Now all goodness in you was an + accident of sense and caprice, not true morality.” + </p> + <p> + “What has true morality to do with love of you?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “You ask me hard questions,” she replied. “This it has to do with it: We + go from morality to higher things, not from higher things to morality. + Pure love is a high thing; yours was not high. To have put my life in your + hands—ah no, no! And so I fought you. There was no question of + yourself and Robert Moray—none. Him I knew to possess fewer gifts, + but I knew him also to be what you could never be. I never measured him + against you. What was his was all of me worth the having, and was given + always; there was no change. What was yours was given only when in your + presence, and then with hatred of myself and you—given to some + baleful fascination in you. For a time, the more I struggled against it + the more it grew, for there was nothing that could influence a woman which + you did not do. Monsieur, if you had had Robert Moray’s character and your + own gifts, I could—monsieur, I could have worshiped you!” + </p> + <p> + Doltaire was in a kind of dream. He was sitting now in the high-backed + chair, his mouth and chin in his hand, his elbow resting on the chair-arm. + His left hand grasped the other arm, and he leaned forward with brows bent + and his eyes fixed on her intently. It was a figure singularly absorbed, + lost in study of some deep theme. Once his sword clanged against the chair + as it slipped a little from its position, and he started almost violently, + though the dull booming of a cannon in no wise seemed to break the + quietness of the scene. He was dressed, as in the morning, in plain black, + but now the star of Louis shone on his breast. His face was pale, but his + eyes, with their swift-shifting lights, lived upon Alixe, devoured her. + </p> + <p> + She paused for an instant. + </p> + <p> + “Thou shalt not commit—idolatry,” he remarked in a low, cynical + tone, which the repressed feeling in his face and the terrible new + earnestness of his look belied. + </p> + <p> + She flushed a little, and continued: “Yet all the time I was true to him, + and what I felt concerning you he knew—I told him enough.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly there came into Doltaire’s looks and manner an astounding change. + Both hands caught the chair-arm, his lips parted with a sort of snarl, and + his white teeth showed maliciously. It seemed as if, all at once, the + courtier, the flaneur, the man of breeding, had gone, and you had before + you the peasant, in a moment’s palsy from the intensity of his fury. + </p> + <p> + “A thousand hells for him!” he burst out in the rough patois of Poictiers, + and got to his feet. “You told him all, you confessed your fluttering + fears and desires to him, while you let me play upon those ardent strings + of feelings, that you might save him! You used me, Tinoir Doltaire, son of + a king, to further your amour with a bourgeois Englishman! And he laughed + in his sleeve, and soothed away those dangerous influences of the + magician. By the God of heaven, Robert Moray and I have work to do! And + you—you, with all the gifts of the perfect courtesan—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shame! shame!” she said, breaking in. + </p> + <p> + “But I speak the truth. You berate me, but you used incomparable gifts to + hold me near you, and the same gifts to let me have no more of you than + would keep me. I thought you the most honest, the most heavenly of women, + and now—” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” she interrupted, “what else could I have done? To draw the line + between your constant attention and my own necessity! Ah, I was but a + young girl; I had no friend to help me; he was condemned to die; I loved + him; I did not believe in you, not in ever so little. If I had said, ‘You + must not speak to me again,’ you would have guessed my secret, and all my + purposes would have been defeated. So I had to go on; nor did I think that + it ever would cause you aught but a shock to your vanity.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed hatefully. “My faith, but it has, shocked my vanity,” he + answered. “And now take this for thinking on: Up to this point I have + pleaded with you, used persuasion, courted you with a humility astonishing + to myself. Now I will have you in spite of all. I will break you, and + soothe your hurt afterwards. I will, by the face of the Madonna, I will + feed where this Moray would pasture, I will gather this ripe fruit!” + </p> + <p> + With a devilish swiftness he caught her about the waist, and kissed her + again and again upon the mouth. + </p> + <p> + The blood was pounding in my veins, and I would have rushed in then and + there, have ended the long strife, and have dug revenge for this outrage + from his heart, but that I saw Alixe did not move, nor make the least + resistance. This struck me with horror, till, all at once, he let her go, + and I saw her face. It was very white and still, smooth and cold as + marble. She seemed five years older in the minute. + </p> + <p> + “Have you quite done, monsieur?” she said, with infinite quiet scorn. “Do + you, the son of a king, find joy in kissing lips that answer nothing, a + cheek from which the blood flows in affright and shame? Is it an + achievement to feed as cattle feed? Listen to me, Monsieur Doltaire. No, + do not try to speak till I have done, if your morality—of manners—is + not all dead. Through this cowardly act of yours, the last vestige of your + power over me is gone. I sometimes think that, with you, in the past, I + have remained true and virtuous at the expense of the best of me; but now + all that is over, and there is no temptation—I feel beyond it: by + this hour here, this hour of sore peril, you have freed me. I was tempted—Heaven + knows, a few minutes ago I was tempted, for everything was with you; but + God has been with me, and you and I are no nearer than the poles.” + </p> + <p> + “You doubt that I love you?” he said in an altered voice. + </p> + <p> + “I doubt that any man will so shame the woman he loves,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “What is insult to-day may be a pride to-morrow,” was his quick reply. “I + do not repent of it, I never will, for you and I shall go to-night from + here, and you shall be my wife; and one day, when this man is dead, when + you have forgotten your bad dream, you will love me as you can not love + him. I have that in me to make you love me. To you I can be loyal, never + drifting, never wavering. I tell you, I will not let you go. First my wife + you shall be, and after that I will win your love; in spite of all, mine + now, though it is shifted for the moment. Come, come, Alixe”—he made + as if to take her hand—“you and I will learn the splendid secret—” + </p> + <p> + She drew back to the shrine of the Virgin. + </p> + <p> + “Mother of God! Mother of God!” I heard her whisper, and then she raised + her hand against him. “No, no, no,” she said, with sharp anguish, “do not + try to force me to your wishes—do not; for I, at least, will never + live to see it. I have suffered more than I can bear I will end this + shame, I will—” + </p> + <p> + I had heard enough. I stepped back quickly, closed the panel, and went + softly to the door and into the hall, determined to bring her out against + Doltaire, trusting to Gabord not to oppose me. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVII. A SIDE-WIND OF REVENGE + </h2> + <p> + I knew it was Doltaire’s life or mine, and I shrank from desecrating this + holy place; but our bitter case would warrant this, and more. As I came + quickly through the hall, and round the corner where stood Gabord, I saw a + soldier talking with the Mother Superior. + </p> + <p> + “He is not dead?” I heard her say. + </p> + <p> + “No, holy Mother,” was the answer, “but sorely wounded. He was testing the + fire-organs for the rafts, and one exploded too soon.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment the Mother turned to me, and seemed startled by my look. + “What is it?” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “He would carry her off,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + “He shall never do so,” was her quick answer. “Her father, the good + Seigneur, has been wounded, and she must go to him.” + </p> + <p> + “I will take her,” said I at once, and I moved to open the door. At that + moment I caught Gabord’s eye. There I read what caused me to pause. If I + declared myself now, Gabord’s life would pay for his friendship to me—even + if I killed Doltaire; for the matter would be open to all then just the + same. That I could not do, for the man had done me kindnesses dangerous to + himself. Besides, he was a true soldier, and disgrace itself would be to + him as bad as the drum-head court-martial. I made up my mind to another + course even as the perturbed “aho” which followed our glance fell from his + puffing lips. + </p> + <p> + “But no, holy Mother,” said I, and I whispered in her ear. She opened the + door and went in, leaving it ajar. I could hear only a confused murmur of + voices, through which ran twice, “No, no, monsieur,” in Alixe’s soft, + clear voice. I could scarcely restrain myself, and I am sure I should have + gone in, in spite of all, had it not been for Gabord, who withstood me. + </p> + <p> + He was right, and as I turned away I heard Alixe cry, “My father, my poor + father!” + </p> + <p> + Then came Doltaire’s voice, cold and angry: “Good Mother, this is a + trick.” + </p> + <p> + “Your Excellency should be a better judge of trickery,” she replied + quietly. “Will not your Excellency leave an unhappy lady to her trouble + and the Church’s care?” + </p> + <p> + “If the Seigneur is hurt, I will take mademoiselle to him,” was his + instant reply. + </p> + <p> + “It may not be, your Excellency,” she said. “I will furnish her with other + escort.” + </p> + <p> + “And I, as Governor of this province, as commander-in-chief of the army, + say that only with my escort shall the lady reach her father.” + </p> + <p> + At this Alixe spoke: “Dear Mere St. George, do not fear for me; God will + protect me—” + </p> + <p> + “And I also, mademoiselle, with my life,” interposed Doltaire. + </p> + <p> + “God will protect me,” Alixe repeated; “I have no fear.” + </p> + <p> + “I will send two of our Sisters with mademoiselle to nurse the poor + Seigneur,” said Mere St. George. + </p> + <p> + I am sure Doltaire saw the move. “A great kindness, holy Mother,” he said + politely, “and I will see they are well cared for. We will set forth at + once. The Seigneur shall be brought to the Intendance, and he and his + daughter shall have quarters there.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped towards the door where we were. I fell back into position as he + came. “Gabord,” said he, “send your trusted fellow here to the General’s + camp, and have him fetch to the Intendance the Seigneur Duvarney, who has + been wounded. Alive or dead, he must be brought,” he added in a lower + voice. + </p> + <p> + Then he turned back into the room. As he did so, Gabord looked at me + inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + “If you go, you put your neck into the gin,” said he; “some one in camp + will know you.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not leave my wife,” I answered in a whisper. Thus were all plans + altered on the instant. Gabord went to the outer door and called another + soldier, to whom he gave this commission. + </p> + <p> + A few moments afterwards, Alixe, Doltaire, and the Sisters of Mercy were + at the door ready to start. Doltaire turned and bowed with a well-assumed + reverence to the Mother Superior. “To-night’s affairs here are sacred to + ourselves, Mere St. George,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She bowed, but made no reply. Alixe turned and kissed her hand. But as we + stepped forth, the Mother said suddenly, pointing to me, “Let the soldier + come back in an hour, and mademoiselle’s luggage shall go to her, your + Excellency.” + </p> + <p> + Doltaire nodded, glancing at me. “Surely he shall attend you, Mere St. + George,” he said, and then stepped on with Alixe, Gabord and the other + soldier ahead, the two Sisters behind, and myself beside these. Going + quietly through the disordered Upper Town, we came down Palace Street to + the Intendance. Here Doltaire had kept his quarters despite his growing + quarrel with Bigot. As we entered he inquired of the servant where Bigot + was, and was told he was gone to the Chateau St. Louis. Doltaire shrugged + a shoulder and smiled—he knew that Bigot had had news of his + deposition through the Governor. He gave orders for rooms to be prepared + for the Seigneur and for the Sisters; mademoiselle meanwhile to be taken + to hers, which had, it appeared, been made ready. Then I heard him ask in + an undertone if the bishop had come, and he was answered that Monseigneur + was at Charlesbourg, and could not be expected till the morning. I was in + a most dangerous position, for, though I had escaped notice, any moment + might betray me; Doltaire himself might see through my disguise. + </p> + <p> + We all accompanied Alixe to the door of her apartments, and there Doltaire + with courtesy took leave of her, saying that he would return in a little + time to see if she was comfortable, and to bring her any fresh news of her + father. The Sisters were given apartments next her own, and they entered + her room with her, at her own request. + </p> + <p> + When the door closed, Doltaire turned to Gabord, and said, “You shall come + with me to bear letters to General Montcalm, and you shall send one of + these fellows also for me to General Bougainville at Cap Rouge.” Then he + spoke directly to me, and said, “You shall guard this passage till + morning. No one but myself may pass into this room or out of it, save the + Sisters of Mercy, on pain of death.” + </p> + <p> + I saluted, but spoke no word. + </p> + <p> + “You understand me?” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely, monsieur,” I answered in a rough peasantlike voice. + </p> + <p> + He turned and walked in a leisurely way through the passage, and + disappeared, telling Gabord to join him in a moment. As he left, Gabord + said to me in a low voice, “Get back to General Wolfe, or wife and life + will both be lost.” + </p> + <p> + I caught his hand and pressed it, and a minute afterwards I was alone + before Alixe’s door. + </p> + <p> + An hour later, knowing Alixe to be alone, I tapped on her door and + entered. As I did so she rose from a priedieu where she had been kneeling. + Two candles were burning on the mantel, but the room was much in shadow. + </p> + <p> + “What is’t you wish?” she asked, approaching. + </p> + <p> + I had off my hat; I looked her direct in the eyes and put my fingers on my + lips. She stared painfully for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Alixe,” said I. + </p> + <p> + She gave a gasp, and stood transfixed, as though she had seen a ghost, and + then in an instant she was in my arms, sobs shaking her. “Oh, Robert! oh + my dear, dear husband!” she cried again and again. I calmed her, and + presently she broke into a whirl of questions. I told her of all I had + seen at the cathedral and at the convent, what my plans had been, and then + I waited for her answer. A new feeling took possession of her. She knew + that there was one question at my lips which I dared not utter. She became + very quiet, and a sweet, settled firmness came into her face. + </p> + <p> + “Robert,” she said, “you must go back to your army without me. I can not + leave my father now. Save yourself alone, and if—and if you take the + city, and I am alive, then we shall be reunited. If you do not take the + city, then, whether father lives or dies, I will come to you. Of this be + sure, that I shall never live to be the wife of any other man—wife + or aught else. You know me. You know all, you trust me, and, my dear + husband, my own love, we must part once more. Go, go, and save yourself, + keep your life safe for my sake, and may God in heaven, may God—” + </p> + <p> + Here she broke off and started back from my embrace, staring hard a moment + over my shoulder; then her face became deadly pale, and she fell back + unconscious. Supporting her, I turned round, and there, inside the door, + with his back to it, was Doltaire. There was a devilish smile on his face, + as wicked a look as I ever saw on any man. I laid Alixe down on a sofa + without a word, and faced him again. + </p> + <p> + “As many coats as Joseph’s coat had colours,” he said. “And for once + disguised as an honest man—well, well!” + </p> + <p> + “Beast” I hissed, and I whipped out my short sword. + </p> + <p> + “Not here,” he said, with a malicious laugh. “You forget your manners: + familiarity”—he glanced towards the couch—“has bred—” + </p> + <p> + “Coward!” I cried. “I will kill you at her feet.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, then,” he answered, and stepped away from the door, drawing his + sword, “since you will have it here. But if I kill you, as I intend—” + </p> + <p> + He smiled detestably, and motioned towards the couch, then turned to the + door again as if to lock it. I stepped between, my sword at guard. At that + the door opened. A woman came in quickly, and closed it behind her. She + passed me, and faced Doltaire. + </p> + <p> + It was Madame Cournal. She was most pale, and there was a peculiar + wildness in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You have deposed Francois Bigot,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Stand back, madame; I have business with this fellow,” said Doltaire, + waving his hand. + </p> + <p> + “My business comes first,” she replied. “You—you dare to depose + Francois Bigot!” + </p> + <p> + “It needs no daring,” he said nonchalantly. + </p> + <p> + “You shall put him back in his place.” + </p> + <p> + “Come to me to-morrow morning, dear madame.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you he must be put back, Monsieur Doltaire.” + </p> + <p> + “Once you called me Tinoir,” he said meaningly. + </p> + <p> + Without a word she caught from her cloak a dagger and struck him in the + breast, though he threw up his hand and partly diverted the blow. Without + a cry he half swung round, and sank, face forward, against the couch where + Alixe lay. + </p> + <p> + Raising himself feebly, blindly, he caught her hand and kissed it; then he + fell back. + </p> + <p> + Stooping beside him, I felt his heart. He was alive. Madame Cournal now + knelt beside him, staring at him as in a kind of dream. I left the room + quickly, and met the Sisters of Mercy in the hall. They had heard the + noise, and were coming to Alixe. I bade them care for her. Passing rapidly + through the corridors, I told a servant of the household what had + occurred, bade him send for Bigot, and then made for my own safety. Alixe + was safe for a time, at least—perhaps forever, thank God!—from + the approaches of Monsieur Doltaire. As I sped through the streets, I + could not help but think of how he had kissed her hand as he fell, and I + knew by this act, at such a time, that in very truth he loved her after + his fashion. + </p> + <p> + I came soon to the St. John’s Gate, for I had the countersign from Gabord, + and, dressed as I was, I had no difficulty in passing. Outside I saw a + small cavalcade arriving from Beauport way. I drew back and let it pass + me, and then I saw that it was soldiers bearing the Seigneur Duvarney to + the Intendance. + </p> + <p> + An hour afterwards, having passed the sentries, I stood on a lonely point + of the shore of Lower Town, and, seeing no one near, I slid into the + water. As I did so I heard a challenge behind me, and when I made no + answer there came a shot, another, and another; for it was thought, I + doubt not, that I was a deserter. I was wounded in the shoulder, and had + to swim with one arm; but though boats were put out, I managed to evade + them and to get within hail of our fleet. Challenged there, I answered + with my name. A boat shot out from among the ships, and soon I was hauled + into it by Clark himself; and that night I rested safe upon the Terror of + France. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVIII. “TO CHEAT THE DEVIL YET.” + </h2> + <p> + My hurt proved more serious than I had looked for, and the day after my + escape I was in a high fever. General Wolfe himself, having heard of my + return, sent to inquire after me. He also was ill, and our forces were + depressed in consequence; for he had a power to inspire them not given to + any other of our accomplished and admirable generals. He forbore to + question me concerning the state of the town and what I had seen; for + which I was glad. My adventure had been of a private nature, and such I + wished it to remain. The general desired me to come to him as soon as I + was able, that I might proceed with him above the town to reconnoitre. But + for many a day this was impossible, for my wound gave me much pain and I + was confined to my bed. + </p> + <p> + Yet we on the Terror of France served our good general, too; for one dark + night, when the wind was fair, we piloted the remaining ships of Admiral + Holmes’s division above the town. This move was made on my constant + assertion that there was a way by which Quebec might be taken from above; + and when General Wolfe made known my representations to his general + officers, they accepted it as a last resort; for otherwise what hope had + they? At Montmorenci our troops had been repulsed, the mud flats of the + Beauport shore and the St. Charles River were as good as an army against + us; the Upper Town and citadel were practically impregnable; and for eight + miles west of the town to the cove and river at Cap Rouge there was one + long precipice, broken in but one spot; but just there, I was sure, men + could come up with stiff climbing as I had done. Bougainville came to Cap + Rouge now with three thousand men, for he thought that this was to be our + point of attack. Along the shore from Cap Rouge to Cape Diamond small + batteries were posted, such as that of Lancy’s at Anse du Foulon; but they + were careless, for no conjectures might seem so wild as that of bringing + an army up where I had climbed. + </p> + <p> + “Tut, tut,” said General Murray, when he came to me on the Terror of + France, after having, at my suggestion, gone to the south shore opposite + Anse du Foulon, and scanned the faint line that marked the narrow cleft on + the cliff side—“tut, tut, man,” said he, “‘tis the dream of a cat or + a damned mathematician.” + </p> + <p> + Once, after all was done, he said to me that cats and mathematicians were + the only generals. + </p> + <p> + With a belligerent pride Clark showed the way up the river one evening, + the batteries of the town giving us plunging shots as we went, and ours at + Point Levis answering gallantly. To me it was a good if most anxious time: + good, in that I was having some sort of compensation for my own sufferings + in the town; anxious, because no single word came to me of Alixe or her + father, and all the time we were pouring death into the place. + </p> + <p> + But this we knew from deserters, that Vaudreuil was Governor and Bigot + Intendant still; by which it would seem that, on the momentous night when + Doltaire was wounded by Madame Cournal, he gave back the governorship to + Vaudreuil and reinstated Bigot. Presently, from an officer who had been + captured as he was setting free a fire-raft upon the river to run among + the boats of our fleet, I heard that Doltaire had been confined in the + Intendance from a wound given by a stupid sentry. Thus the true story had + been kept from the public. From him, too, I learned that nothing was known + of the Seigneur Duvarney and his daughter; that they had suddenly + disappeared from the Intendance, as if the earth had swallowed them; and + that even Juste Duvarney knew nothing of them, and was, in consequence, + much distressed. + </p> + <p> + This officer also said that now, when it might seem as if both the + Seigneur and his daughter were dead, opinion had turned in Alixe’s favour, + and the feeling had crept about, first among the common folk and + afterwards among the people of the garrison, that she had been used + harshly. This was due largely, he thought, to the constant advocacy of the + Chevalier de la Darante, whose nephew had married Mademoiselle Georgette + Duvarney. This piece of news, in spite of the uncertainty of Alixe’s fate, + touched me, for the Chevalier had indeed kept his word to me. + </p> + <p> + At last all of Admiral Holmes’s division was got above the town, with very + little damage, and I never saw a man so elated, so profoundly elated as + Clark over his share in the business. He was a daredevil, too; for the day + that the last of the division was taken up the river, without my + permission or the permission of the admiral or any one else, he took the + Terror of France almost up to Bougainville’s earthworks in the cove at Cap + Rouge and insolently emptied his six swivels into them, and then came out + and stood down the river. When I asked what he was doing—for I was + now well enough to come on deck—he said he was going to see how + monkeys could throw nuts; when I pressed him, he said he had a will to + hear the cats in the eaves; and when I became severe, he added that he + would bring the Terror of France up past the batteries of the town in + broad daylight, swearing that they could no more hit him than a woman + could a bird on a flagstaff. I did not relish this foolish bravado, and I + forbade it; but presently I consented, on condition that he take me to + General Wolfe’s camp at Montmorenci first; for now I felt strong enough to + be again on active service. + </p> + <p> + Clark took the Terror of France up the river in midday, running perilously + close to the batteries; and though they pounded at him petulantly, + foolishly angry at his contemptuous defiance, he ran the gauntlet safely, + and coming to the flagship, the Sutherland, saluted with his six swivels, + to the laughter of the whole fleet and his own profane joy. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Moray,” said General Wolfe, when I saw him, racked with pain, + studying a chart of the river and town which his chief engineer had just + brought him, “show me here this passage in the hillside.” + </p> + <p> + I did so, tracing the plains of Maitre Abraham, which I assured him would + be good ground for a pitched battle. He nodded; then rose, and walked up + and down for a time, thinking. Suddenly he stopped, and fixed his eyes + upon me. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Moray,” said he, “it would seem that you, angering La Pompadour, + brought down this war upon us.” He paused, smiling in a dry way, as if the + thought amused him, as if indeed he doubted it; but for that I cared not, + it was an honour I could easily live without. + </p> + <p> + I bowed to his words, and said, “Mine was the last straw, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Again he nodded, and replied, “Well, well, you got us into trouble; you + must show us the way out,” and he looked at the passage I had traced upon + the chart. “You will remain with me until we meet our enemy on these + heights.” He pointed to the plains of Maitre Abraham. Then he turned away, + and began walking up and down again. “It is the last chance!” he said to + himself in a tone despairing and yet heroic. “Please God, please God!” he + added. + </p> + <p> + “You will speak nothing of these plans,” he said to me at last, half + mechanically. “We must make feints of landing at Cap Rouge—feints of + landing everywhere save at the one possible place; confuse both + Bougainville and Montcalm; tire out their armies with watchings and want + of sleep; and then, on the auspicious night, make the great trial.” + </p> + <p> + I had remained respectfully standing at a little distance from him. Now he + suddenly came to me, and, pressing my hand, said quickly, “You have + trouble, Mr. Moray. I am sorry for you. But maybe it is for better things + to come.” + </p> + <p> + I thanked him stumblingly, and a moment later left him, to serve him on + the morrow, and so on through many days, till, in divers perils, the camp + at Montmorenci was abandoned, the troops were got aboard the ships, and + the general took up his quarters on the Sutherland; from which, one + notable day, I sallied forth with him to a point at the south shore + opposite the Anse du Foulon, where he saw the thin crack in the cliff + side. From that moment instant and final attack was his purpose. + </p> + <p> + The great night came, starlit and serene. The camp-fires of two armies + spotted the shores of the wide river, and the ships lay like wild fowl in + convoys above the town from where the arrow of fate should be sped. + Darkness upon the river, and fireflies upon the shore. At Beauport, an + untiring general, who for a hundred days had snatched sleep, booted and + spurred, and in the ebb of a losing game, longed for his adored Candiac, + grieved for a beloved daughter’s death, sent cheerful messages to his aged + mother and to his wife, and by the deeper protests of his love + foreshadowed his own doom. At Cap Rouge, a dying commander, unperturbed + and valiant, reached out a finger to trace the last movements in a + desperate campaign of life that opened in Flanders at sixteen; of which + the end began when he took from his bosom the portrait of his affianced + wife, and said to his old schoolfellow, “Give this to her, Jervis, for we + shall meet no more.” + </p> + <p> + Then, passing to the deck, silent and steady, no signs of pain upon his + face, so had the calm come to him, as to Nature and this beleaguered city, + before the whirlwind, he looked out upon the clustered groups of boats + filled with the flower of his army, settled in a menacing tranquillity. + There lay the Light Infantry, Bragg’s, Kennedy’s, Lascelles’s, + Anstruther’s Regiment, Fraser’s Highlanders, and the much-loved, + much-blamed, and impetuous Louisburg Grenadiers. Steady, indomitable, + silent as cats, precise as mathematicians, he could trust them, as they + loved his awkward pain-twisted body and ugly red hair. “Damme, Jack, didst + thee ever take hell in tow before?” said a sailor from the Terror of + France to his fellow once, as the marines grappled with a flotilla of + French fire-ships, and dragged them, spitting destruction, clear of the + fleet, to the shore. “Nay, but I’ve been in tow of Jimmy Wolfe’s red head; + that’s hell-fire, lad!” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + From boat to boat the General’s eye passed, then shifted to the ships—the + Squirrel, the Leostaff, the Seahorse, and the rest—and lastly to + where the army of Bougainville lay. Then there came towards him an + officer, who said quietly, “The tide has turned, sir.” For reply the + general made a swift motion towards the maintop shrouds, and almost + instantly lanterns showed in them. In response the crowded boats began to + cast away, and, immediately descending, the General passed into his own + boat, drew to the front, and drifted in the current ahead of his gallant + men, the ships following after. + </p> + <p> + It was two by the clock when the boats began to move, and slowly we ranged + down the stream, silently steered, carried by the current. No paddle, no + creaking oarlock, broke the stillness. I was in the next boat to the + General’s, for, with Clark and twenty-two other volunteers to the forlorn + hope, I was to show the way up the heights, and we were near to his person + for over two hours that night. No moon was shining, but I could see the + General plainly; and once, when our boats almost touched, he saw me, and + said graciously, “If they get up, Mr. Moray, you are free to serve + yourself.” + </p> + <p> + My heart was full of love of country then, and I answered, “I hope, sir, + to serve you till your flag is hoisted in the citadel.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to a young midshipman beside him, and said, “How old are you, + sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Seventeen, sir,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “It is the most lasting passion,” he said, musing. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to me then, and I still think it, that the passion he meant was + love of country. A moment afterwards I heard him recite to the officers + about him, in a low clear tone, some verses by Mr. Gray, the poet, which I + had never then read, though I have prized them since. Under those frowning + heights, and the smell from our roaring thirty-two-pounders in the air, I + heard him say: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The curfew tolls, the knell of parting day; + The lowing herd wind slowly o’er the lea; + The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, + And leaves the world to darkness and to me.” + </pre> + <p> + I have heard finer voices than his—it was as tin beside Doltaire’s—but + something in it pierced me that night, and I felt the man, the perfect + hero, when he said: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, + And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave, + Await alike the inevitable hour— + The paths of glory lead but to the grave.” + </pre> + <p> + Soon afterwards we neared the end of our quest, the tide carrying us in to + shore; and down from the dark heights there came a challenge, satisfied by + an officer who said in French that we were provision-boats for Montcalm: + these, we knew, had been expected! Then came the batteries of Samos. Again + we passed with the same excuse, and we rounded a headland, and the great + work was begun. + </p> + <p> + The boats of the Light Infantry swung in to shore. No sentry challenged, + but I knew that at the top Lancy’s tents were set. When the Light Infantry + had landed, we twenty-four volunteers stood still for a moment, and I + pointed out the way. Before we started, we stooped beside a brook that + leaped lightly down the ravine, and drank a little rum and water. Then I + led the way, Clark at one side of me, and a soldier of the Light Infantry + at the other. It was hard climbing, but, following in our careful steps as + silently as they might, the good fellows came eagerly after. Once a rock + broke loose and came tumbling down, but plunged into a thicket, where it + stayed; else it might have done for us entirely. I breathed freely when it + stopped. Once, too, a branch cracked loudly, and we lay still; but hearing + nothing above, we pushed on, and, sweating greatly, came close to the top. + </p> + <p> + Here I drew back with Clark, for such honour as there might be in gaining + the heights first I wished to go to these soldiers who had trusted their + lives to my guidance. I let six go by and reach the heights, and then I + drew myself up. We did not stir till all twenty-four were safe; then we + made a dash for the tents of Lancy, which now showed in the first gray + light of morning. We made a dash for them, were discovered, and shots + greeted us; but we were on them instantly, and in a moment I had the + pleasure of putting a bullet in Lancy’s heel, and brought him down. Our + cheers told the general the news, and soon hundreds of soldiers were + climbing the hard way that we had come. + </p> + <p> + And now while an army climbed to the heights of Maitre Abraham, Admiral + Saunders in the gray dawn was bombarding Montcalm’s encampment, and boats + filled with marines and soldiers drew to the Beauport flats, as if to land + there; while shots, bombs, shells, and carcasses were hurled from Levis + upon the town, deceiving Montcalm. At last, however, suspecting, he rode + towards the town at six o’clock, and saw our scarlet ranks spread across + the plains between him and Bougainville, and on the crest, nearer to him, + eying us in amazement, the white-coated battalion of Guienne, which should + the day before have occupied the very ground held by Lancy. A slight rain + falling added to their gloom, but cheered us. It gave us a better light to + fight by, for in the clear September air, the bright sun shining in our + faces, they would have had us at advantage. + </p> + <p> + In another hour the gates of St. John and St. Louis emptied out upon this + battlefield a warring flood of our foes. It was a handsome sight: the + white uniforms of the brave regiments, Roussillon, La Sarre, Guienne, + Languedoc, Bearn, mixed with the dark, excitable militia, the sturdy + burghers of the town, a band of coureurs de bois in their rough hunter’s + costume, and whooping Indians, painted and furious, ready to eat us. At + last here was to be a test of fighting in open field, though the French + had in their whole army twice the number of our men, a walled and + provisioned city behind them, and field-pieces in great number to bring + against us. + </p> + <p> + But there was bungling with them. Vaudreuil hung back or came tardily from + Beauport; Bougainville had not yet arrived; and when they might have + pitted twice our number against us, they had not many more than we. With + Bougainville behind us and Montcalm in front, we might have been checked, + though there was no man in all our army but believed that we should win + the day. I could plainly see Montcalm, mounted on a dark horse, riding + along the lines as they formed against us, waving his sword, a truly + gallant figure. He was answered by a roar of applause and greeting. On the + left their Indians and burghers overlapped our second line, where Townsend + with Amherst’s and the Light Infantry, and Colonel Burton with the Royal + Americans and Light Infantry, guarded our flank, prepared to meet + Bougainville. In vain our foes tried to get between our right flank and + the river; Otway’s Regiment, thrown out, defeated that. + </p> + <p> + It was my hope that Doltaire was with Montcalm, and that we might meet and + end our quarrel. I came to know afterwards that it was he who had induced + Montcalm to send the battalion of Guienne to the heights above the Anse du + Foulon. The battalion had not been moved till twenty-four hours after the + order was given, or we should never have gained those heights; stones + rolled from the cliff would have destroyed an army. + </p> + <p> + We waited, Clark and I, with the Louisburg Grenadiers while they formed. + We made no noise, but stood steady and still, the bagpipes of the + Highlanders shrilly challenging. At eight o’clock sharpshooters began + firing on us from the left, and skirmishers were thrown out to hold them + in check, or dislodge them and drive them from the houses where they + sheltered and galled Townsend’s men. Their field-pieces opened on us, too, + and yet we did nothing, but at nine o’clock, being ordered, lay down and + waited still. There was no restlessness, no anxiety, no show of doubt, for + these men of ours were old fighters, and they trusted their leaders. From + bushes, trees, coverts, and fields of grain there came that constant hail + of fire, and there fell upon our ranks a doggedness, a quiet anger, which + grew into a grisly patience. The only pleasure we had in two long hours + was in watching our two brass six-pounders play upon the irregular ranks + of our foes, making confusion, and Townsend drive back a detachment of + cavalry from Cap Rouge, which sought to break our left flank and reach + Montcalm. + </p> + <p> + We had seen the stars go down, the cold, mottled light of dawn break over + the battered city and the heights of Charlesbourg; we had watched the sun + come up, and then steal away behind slow-travelling clouds and hanging + mist; we had looked across over unreaped cornfields and the dull, slovenly + St. Charles, knowing that endless leagues of country, north and south, + east and west, lay in the balance for the last time. I believed that this + day would see the last of the strife between England and France for + dominion here; of La Pompadour’s spite which I had roused to action + against my country; of the struggle between Doltaire and myself. + </p> + <p> + The public stake was worthy of our army—worthy of the dauntless + soldier, who had begged his physicians to patch him up long enough to + fight this fight, whereon he staked reputation, life, all that a man loves + in the world; the private stake was more than worthy of my long + sufferings. I thought that Montcalm would have waited for Vaudreuil, but + no. At ten o’clock his three columns moved down upon us briskly, making a + wild rattle; two columns moving upon our right and one upon our left, + firing obliquely and constantly as they marched. Then came the command to + rise, and we stood up and waited, our muskets loaded with an extra ball. I + could feel the stern malice in our ranks, as we stood there and took, + without returning a shot, that damnable fire. Minute after minute passed; + then came the sharp command to advance. We did so, and again halted, and + yet no shot came from us. We stood there, a long palisade of red. + </p> + <p> + At last I saw our general raise his sword, a command rang down the long + line of battle, and, like one terrible cannon-shot, our muskets sang + together with as perfect a precision as on a private field of exercise. + Then, waiting for the smoke to clear a little, another volley came with + almost the same precision; after which the firing came in choppy waves of + sound, and again in a persistent clattering. Then a light breeze lifted + the smoke and mist well away, and a wayward sunlight showed us our foe, + like a long white wave retreating from a rocky shore, bending, crumpling, + breaking, and, in a hundred little billows, fleeing seaward. + </p> + <p> + Thus checked, confounded, the French army trembled and fell back. Then I + heard the order to charge, and from near four thousand throats there came + for the first time our exultant British cheer, and high over all rang the + slogan of Fraser’s Highlanders. To my left I saw the flashing broadswords + of the clansmen, ahead of all the rest. Those sickles of death clove + through and broke the battalions of La Sarre, and Lascelles scattered the + good soldiers of Languedoc into flying columns. We on the right, led by + Wolfe, charged the desperate and valiant men of Roussillon and Guienne and + the impetuous sharpshooters of the militia. As we came on, I observed the + general sway and push forward again, and then I lost sight of him, for I + saw what gave the battle a new interest to me: Doltaire, cool and + deliberate, animating and encouraging the French troops. + </p> + <p> + I moved in a shaking hedge of bayonets, keeping my eye on him; and + presently there was a hand-to-hand melee, out of which I fought to reach + him. I was making for him, where he now sought to rally the retreating + columns, when I noticed, not far away, Gabord, mounted, and attacked by + three grenadiers. Looking back now, I see him, with his sabre cutting + right and left, as he drove his horse at one grenadier, who slipped and + fell on the slippery ground, while the horse rode on him, battering him. + Obliquely down swept the sabre, and drove through the cheek and chin of + one foe; another sweep, and the bayonet of the other was struck aside; and + another, which was turned aside as Gabord’s horse came down, bayoneted by + the fallen grenadier. But Gabord was on his feet again, roaring like a + bull, with a wild grin on his face, as he partly struck aside the bayonet + of the last grenadier. It caught him in the flesh of the left side. He + grasped the musket-barrel, and swung his sabre with fierce precision. The + man’s head dropped back like the lid of a pot, and he tumbled into a heap + of the faded golden-rod flower which spattered the field. + </p> + <p> + It was at this moment I saw Juste Duvarney making towards me, hatred and + deadly purpose in his eyes. I had will enough to meet him, and to kill him + too, yet I could not help but think of Alixe. Gabord saw him, also, and, + being nearer, made for me as well. For that act I cherish his memory. The + thought was worthy of a gentleman of breeding; he had the true thing in + his heart. He would save us—two brothers—from fighting, by + fighting me himself. + </p> + <p> + He reached me first, and with an “Au diable!” made a stroke at me. It was + a matter of sword and sabre now. Clark met Juste Duvarney’s rush; and + there we were, at as fine a game of cross-purposes as you can think: Clark + hungering for Gabord’s life (Gabord had once been his jailer, too), and + Juste Duvarney for mine; the battle faring on ahead of us. Soon the two + were clean cut off from the French army, and must fight to the death or + surrender. + </p> + <p> + Juste Duvarney spoke only once, and then it was but the rancorous word + “Renegade!” nor did I speak at all; but Clark was blasphemous, and Gabord, + bleeding, fought with a sputtering relish. + </p> + <p> + “Fair fight and fowl for spitting,” he cried. “Go home to heaven, + dickey-bird.” + </p> + <p> + Between phrases of this kind we cut and thrust for life, an odd sort of + fighting. I fought with a desperate alertness, and presently my sword + passed through his body, drew out, and he shivered—fell—where + he stood, collapsing suddenly like a bag. I knelt beside him, and lifted + up his head. His eyes were glazing fast. + </p> + <p> + “Gabord! Gabord!” I called, grief-stricken, for that work was the worst I + ever did in this world. + </p> + <p> + He started, stared, and fumbled at his waistcoat. I quickly put my hand + in, and drew out—one of Mathilde’s wooden crosses. + </p> + <p> + “To cheat—the devil—yet—aho!” he whispered, kissed the + cross, and so was done with life. + </p> + <p> + When I turned from him, Clark stood beside me. Dazed as I was, I did not + at first grasp the significance of that fact. I looked towards the town, + and saw the French army hustling into the St. Louis Gate; saw the + Highlanders charging the bushes at the Cote Ste. Genevieve, where the + brave Canadians made their last stand; saw, not fifty feet away, the + noblest soldier of our time, even General Wolfe, dead in the arms of Mr. + Henderson, a volunteer in the Twenty-Second; and then, almost at my feet, + stretched out as I had seen him lie in the Palace courtyard two years + before, Juste Duvarney. + </p> + <p> + But now he was beyond all friendship or reconciliation—forever. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIX. “MASTER DEVIL” DOLTAIRE + </h2> + <p> + The bells of some shattered church were calling to vespers, the sun was + sinking behind the flaming autumn woods, as once more I entered the St. + Louis Gate, with the grenadiers and a detachment of artillery, the British + colours hoisted on a gun-carriage. Till this hour I had ever entered and + left this town a captive, a price set on my head, and in the very street + where now I walked I had gone with a rope round my neck, abused and + maltreated. I saw our flag replace the golden lilies of France on the + citadel where Doltaire had baited me, and at the top of Mountain Street, + near to the bishop’s palace, our colours also flew. + </p> + <p> + Every step I took was familiar, yet unfamiliar too. It was a disfigured + town, where a hungry, distracted people huddled among ruins, and begged + for mercy and for food, nor found time in the general overwhelming to + think of the gallant Montcalm, lying in his shell-made grave at the chapel + of the Ursulines, not fifty steps from where I had looked through the + tapestry on Alixe and Doltaire. The convent was almost deserted now, and + as I passed it, on my way to the cathedral, I took off my hat; for how + knew I but that she I loved best lay there, too, as truly a heroine as the + admirable Montcalm was hero! A solitary bell was clanging on the chapel as + I went by, and I saw three nuns steal past me with bowed heads. I longed + to stop them and ask them of Alixe, for I felt sure that the Church knew + where she was, living or dead, though none of all I asked knew aught of + her, not even the Chevalier de la Darante, who had come to our camp the + night before, accompanied by Monsieur Joannes, the town major, with terms + of surrender. + </p> + <p> + I came to the church of the Recollets as I wandered; for now, for a little + time, I seemed bewildered and incapable, lost in a maze of dreadful + imaginings. I entered the door of the church, and stumbled upon a body. + Hearing footsteps ahead in the dusk, I passed up the aisle, and came upon + a pile of debris. Looking up, I could see the stars shining through a hole + in the roof, Hearing a noise beyond, I went on, and there, seated on the + high altar, was the dwarf who had snatched the cup of rum out of the fire + the night that Mathilde had given the crosses to the revellers. He gave a + low, wild laugh, and hugged a bottle to his breast. Almost at his feet, + half naked, with her face on the lowest step of the altar, her feet + touching the altar itself, was the girl—his sister—who had + kept her drunken lover from assaulting him. The girl was dead—there + was a knife-wound in her breast. Sick at the sight I left the place, and + went on, almost mechanically, to Voban’s house. It was level with the + ground, a crumpled heap of ruins. I passed Lancy’s house, in front of + which I had fought with Gabord; it too was broken to pieces. + </p> + <p> + As I turned away I heard a loud noise, as of an explosion, and I supposed + it to be some magazine. I thought of it no more at the time. Voban must be + found; that was more important. I must know of Alixe first, and I felt + sure that if any one guessed her whereabouts it would be he: she would + have told him where she was going, if she had fled; if she were dead, who + so likely to know, this secret, elusive, vengeful watcher? Of Doltaire I + had heard nothing; I would seek him out when I knew of Alixe. He could not + escape me in this walled town. I passed on for a time without direction, + for I seemed not to know where I might find the barber. Our sentries + already patrolled the streets, and our bugles were calling on the heights, + with answering calls from the fleet in the basin. Night came down quickly, + the stars shone out in the perfect blue, and, as I walked along, broken + walls, shattered houses, solitary pillars, looked mystically strange. It + was painfully quiet, as if a beaten people had crawled away into the holes + our shot and shell had made, to hide their misery. Now and again a gaunt + face looked out from a hiding-place, and drew back again in fear at sight + of me. Once a drunken woman spat at me and cursed me; once I was fired at; + and many times from dark corners I heard voices crying, “Sauvez-moi—ah, + sauvez-moi, bon Dieu!” Once I stood for many minutes and watched our + soldiers giving biscuits and their own share of rum to homeless French + peasants hovering round the smouldering ruins of a house which carcasses + had destroyed. + </p> + <p> + And now my wits came back to me, my purposes, the power to act, which for + a couple of hours had seemed to be in abeyance. I hurried through narrow + streets to the cathedral. There it stood, a shattered mass, its sides all + broken, its roof gone, its tall octagonal tower alone substantial and + unchanged. Coming to its rear, I found Babette’s little house, with open + door, and I went in. The old grandfather sat in his corner, with a lighted + candle on the table near him, across his knees Jean’s coat that I had + worn. He only babbled nonsense to my questioning, and, after calling aloud + to Babette and getting no reply, I started for the Intendance. + </p> + <p> + I had scarcely left the house when I saw some French peasants coming + towards me with a litter. A woman, walking behind the litter, carried a + lantern, and one of our soldiers of artillery attended and directed. I ran + forward, and discovered Voban, mortally hurt. The woman gave a cry, and + spoke my name in a kind of surprise and relief; and the soldier, + recognizing me, saluted. I sent him for a surgeon, and came on with the + hurt man to the little house. Soon I was alone with him save for Babette, + and her I sent for a priest. As soon as I had seen Voban I guessed what + had happened: he had tried for his revenge at last. After a little time he + knew me, but at first he could not speak. + </p> + <p> + “What has happened—the Palace?” said I. + </p> + <p> + He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “You blew it up—with Bigot?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + His reply was a whisper, and his face twitched with pain: “Not—with + Bigot.” + </p> + <p> + I gave him some cordial, which he was inclined to refuse. It revived him, + but I saw he could live only a few hours. Presently he made an effort. “I + will tell you,” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me first of my wife,” said I. “Is she alive?—is she alive?” + </p> + <p> + If a smile could have been upon his lips then, I saw one there—good + Voban! I put my ear down, and my heart almost stopped beating, until I + heard him say, “Find Mathilde.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” asked I. + </p> + <p> + “In the Valdoche Hills,” he answered, “where the Gray Monk lives—by + the Tall Calvary.” + </p> + <p> + He gasped with pain. I let him rest awhile, and eased the bandages on him, + and at last he told his story: + </p> + <p> + “I am to be gone soon. For two years I have wait for the good time to kill + him—Bigot—to send him and his palace to hell. I can not tell + you how I work to do it. It is no matter—no. From an old cellar I + mine, and at last I get the powder lay beneath him—his palace. So. + But he does not come to the Palace much this many months, and Madame + Cournal is always with him, and it is hard to do the thing in other ways. + But I laugh when the English come in the town, and when I see Bigot fly to + his palace alone to get his treasure-chest I think it is my time. So I ask + the valet, and he say he is in the private room that lead to the + treasure-place. Then I come back quick to the secret spot and fire my + mine. In ten minutes all will be done. I go at once to his room again, + alone. I pass through the one room, and come to the other. It is a room + with one small barred window. If he is there, I will say a word to him + that I have wait long to say, then shut the door on us both—for I am + sick of life—and watch him and laugh at him till the end comes. If + he is in the other room, then I have another way as sure—” + </p> + <p> + He paused, exhausted, and I waited till he could again go on. At last he + made a great effort, and continued: “I go back to the first room, and he + is not there. I pass soft, to the treasure-room, and I see him kneel + beside a chest, looking in. His back is to me. I hear him laugh to + himself. I shut the door, turn the key, go to the window and throw it out, + and look at him again. But now he stand and turn to me, and then I see—I + see it is not Bigot, but M’sieu’ Doltaire! + </p> + <p> + “I am sick when I see that, and at first I can not speak, my tongue stick + in my mouth so dry. ‘Has Voban turn robber?’ m’sieu’ say. I put out my + hand and try to speak again—but no. ‘What did you throw from the + window?’ he ask. ‘And what’s the matter, my Voban?’ ‘My God,’ I say at him + now, ‘I thought you are Bigot!’ I point to the floor. ‘Powder!’ I whisper. + </p> + <p> + “His eyes go like fire so terrible; he look to the window, take a quick + angry step to me, but stand still. Then he point to the window. ‘The key, + Voban?’ he say; and I answer, ‘Yes.’ He get pale; then he go and try the + door, look close at the walls, try them—quick, quick, stop, feel for + a panel, then try again, stand still, and lean against the table. It is no + use to call; no one can hear, for it is all roar outside, and these walls + are solid and very thick. + </p> + <p> + “‘How long?’ he say, and take out his watch. ‘Five minutes—maybe,’ I + answer. He put his watch on the table, and sit down on a bench by it, and + for a little minute he do not speak, but look at me close, and not angry, + as you would think. ‘Voban,’ he say in a low voice, ‘Bigot was a thief.’ + He point to the chest. ‘He stole from the King—my father. He stole + your Mathilde from you! He should have died. We have both been blunderers, + Voban, blunderers,’ he say; ‘things have gone wrong with us. We have lost + all.’ There is little time. ‘Tell me one thing,’ he go on: ‘Is + Mademoiselle Duvarney safe—do you know?’ I tell him yes, and he + smile, and take from his pocket something, and lay it against his lips, + and then put it back in his breast. + </p> + <p> + “‘You are not afraid to die, Voban?’ he ask. I answer no. ‘Shake hands + with me, my friend,’ he speak, and I do so that. ‘Ah, pardon, pardon, + m’sieu’,’ I say. ‘No, no, Voban; it was to be,’ he answer. ‘We shall meet + again, comrade—eh, if we can?’ he speak on, and he turn away from me + and look to the sky through the window. Then he look at his watch, and get + to his feet, and stand there still. I kiss my crucifix. He reach out and + touch it, and bring his fingers to his lips. ‘Who can tell—perhaps—perhaps!’ + he say. For a little minute—ah, it seem like a year, and it is so + still, so still he stand there, and then he put his hand over the watch, + lift it up, and shut his eyes, as if time is all done. While you can count + ten it is so, and then the great crash come.” + </p> + <p> + For a long time Voban lay silent again. I gave him more cordial, and he + revived and ended his tale. “I am a blunderer, as m’sieu’ say,” he went + on, “for he is killed, not Bigot and me, and only a little part of the + palace go to pieces. And so they fetch me here, and I wish—my God in + Heaven, I wish I go with M’sieu’ Doltaire.” But he followed him a little + later. + </p> + <p> + Two hours afterwards I went to the Intendance, and there I found that the + body of my enemy had been placed in the room where I had last seen him + with Alixe. He lay on the same couch where she had lain. The flag of + France covered his broken body, but his face was untouched—as it had + been in life, haunting, fascinating, though the shifting lights were gone, + the fine eyes closed. A noble peace hid all that was sardonic; not even + Gabord would now have called him “Master Devil.” I covered up his face and + left him there—peasant and prince—candles burning at his head + and feet, and the star of Louis on his shattered breast; and I saw him no + more. + </p> + <p> + All that night I walked the ramparts, thinking, remembering, hoping, + waiting for the morning; and when I saw the light break over those far + eastern parishes, wasted by fire and sword, I set out on a journey to the + Valdoche Hills. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXX. “WHERE ALL THE LOVERS CAN HIDE” + </h2> + <p> + It was in the saffron light of early morning that I saw it, the Tall + Calvary of the Valdoche Hills. + </p> + <p> + The night before I had come up through a long valley, overhung with pines + on one side and crimsoning maples on the other, and, travelling till + nearly midnight, had lain down in the hollow of a bank, and listened to a + little river leap over cascades, and, far below, go prattling on to the + greater river in the south. My eyes closed, but for long I did not sleep. + I heard a night-hawk go by on a lonely mission, a beaver slide from a log + into the water, and the delicate humming of the pine needles was a drowsy + music, through which broke by-and-bye the strange crying of a loon from + the water below. I was neither asleep nor awake, but steeped in this wide + awe of night, the sweet smell of earth and running water in my nostrils. + Once, too, in a slight breeze, the scent of some wild animal’s nest near + by came past, and I found it good. I lifted up a handful of loose earth + and powdered leaves, and held it to my nose—a good, brave smell—all + in a sort of drowsing. + </p> + <p> + While I mused, Doltaire’s face passed before me as it was in life, and I + heard him say again of the peasants, “These shall save the earth some day, + for they are of it, and live close to it, and are kin to it.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly there rushed before me that scene in the convent, when all the + devil in him broke loose upon the woman I loved. But, turning on my homely + bed, I looked up and saw the deep quiet of the skies, the stable peace of + the stars, and I was a son of the good Earth again, a sojourner in the + tents of Home. I did not doubt that Alixe was alive or that I should find + her. There was assurance in this benignant night. In that thought, + dreaming that her cheek lay close to mine, her arm around my neck, I fell + asleep. I waked to bear the squirrels stirring in the trees, the whir of + the partridge, and the first unvarying note of the oriole. Turning on my + dry, leafy bed, I looked down, and saw in the dark haze of dawn the + beavers at their house-building. + </p> + <p> + I was at the beginning of a deep gorge or valley, on one side of which was + a steep sloping hill of grass and trees, and on the other a huge + escarpment of mossed and jagged rocks. Then, farther up, the valley seemed + to end in a huge promontory. On this great wedge grim shapes loomed in the + mist, uncouth and shadowy and unnatural—a lonely, mysterious + Brocken, impossible to human tenantry. Yet as I watched the mist slowly + rise, there grew in me the feeling that there lay the end of my quest. I + came down to the brook, bathed my face and hands, ate my frugal breakfast + of bread, with berries picked from the hillside, and, as the yellow light + of the rising sun broke over the promontory, I saw the Tall Calvary upon a + knoll, strange comrade to the huge rocks and monoliths—as it were + vast playthings of the Mighty Men, the fabled ancestors of the Indian + races of the land. + </p> + <p> + I started up the valley, and presently all the earth grew blithe, and the + birds filled the woods and valleys with jocund noise. + </p> + <p> + It was near noon before I knew that my pilgrimage was over. + </p> + <p> + Coming round a point of rock, I saw the Gray Monk, of whom strange legends + had lately travelled to the city. I took off my hat to him reverently; but + all at once he threw back his cowl, and I saw—no monk, but, much + altered, the good chaplain who had married me to Alixe in the Chateau St. + Louis. He had been hurt when he was fired upon in the water; had escaped, + however, got to shore, and made his way into the woods. There he had met + Mathilde, who led him to her lonely home in this hill. Seeing the Tall + Calvary, he had conceived the idea of this disguise, and Mathilde had + brought him the robe for the purpose. + </p> + <p> + In a secluded cave I found Alixe with her father, caring for him, for he + was not yet wholly recovered from his injuries. There was no waiting now. + The ban of Church did not hold my dear girl back, nor did her father do + aught but smile when she came laughing and weeping into my arms. + </p> + <p> + “Robert, O Robert, Robert!” she cried, and at first that was all she could + say. + </p> + <p> + The good Seigneur put out his hand to me beseechingly. I took it, clasped + it. + </p> + <p> + “The city?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Is ours,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “And my son—my son?” + </p> + <p> + I told him how, the night that the city was taken, the Chevalier de la + Darante and I had gone a sad journey in a boat to the Isle of Orleans, and + there, in the chapel yard, near to his father’s chateau, we had laid a + brave and honest gentleman who died fighting for his country. + </p> + <p> + By-and-bye, when their grief had a little abated, I took them out into the + sunshine. A pleasant green valley lay to the north, and to the south, far + off, was the wall of rosy hills that hid the captured town. Peace was upon + it all, and upon us. + </p> + <p> + As we stood there, a scarlet figure came winding in and out among the + giant stones, crosses hanging at her girdle. She approached us, and, + seeing me, she said: “Hush! I know a place where all the lovers can hide.” + </p> + <p> + And she put a little wooden cross into my hands. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_APPE" id="link2H_APPE"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + APPENDIX. + </h2> + <p> + The following is an excerpt from ‘The Scot in New France’ (1880) by J.M. + Lemoine. It is an account of Robert Stobo, the man whose life this text is + loosely based upon. + </p> + <p> + Five years previous to the battle of the Plains of Abraham, one comes + across three genuine Scots in the streets of Quebec—all however + prisoners of war, taken in the border raids—as such under close + surveillance. One, a youthful and handsome officer of Virginia riflemen, + aged 27 years, a friend of Governor Dinwiddie, had been allowed the range + of the fortress, on parole. His good looks, education, smartness (we use + the word advisedly) and misfortunes seem to have created much sympathy for + the captive, but canny Scot. He has a warm welcome in many houses—the + French ladies even plead his cause; le beau capitaine is asked out; no + entertainment at last is considered complete, without Captain—later + on Major Robert Stobo. The other two are: Lieutenant Stevenson of Rogers’ + Rangers, another Virginia corps, and a Leith carpenter of the name of + Clarke. Stobo, after more attempts than one, eluded the French sentries, + and still more dangerous foes to the peace of mind of a handsome bachelor—the + ladies of Quebec. He will re-appear on the scene, the advisor of General + Wolfe, as to the best landing place round Quebec. Doubtless you wish to + hear more about the adventurous Scot. + </p> + <p> + A plan of escape between him, Stevenson and Clarke, was carried out on 1st + May, 1759. Major Stobo met the fugitives under a wind-mill, probably the + old wind-mill on the grounds of the General Hospital Convent. Having + stolen a birch canoe, the party paddled it all night, and, after + incredible fatigue and danger, they passed Isle-aux-Coudres, Kamouraska, + and landed below this spot, shooting two Indians in self-defence, whom + Clarke buried after having scalped them, saying to the Major: “Good sir, + by your permission, these same two scalps, when I come to New York, will + sell for twenty-four good pounds: with this I’ll be right merry, and my + wife right beau.” They then murdered the Indians’ faithful dog, because he + howled, and buried him with his masters. It was shortly after this that + they met the laird of the Kamouraska Isles, le Chevalier de la Durantaye, + who said that the best Canadian blood ran in his veins, and that he was of + kin with the mighty Duc de Mirapoix. Had the mighty Duke, however, at that + moment seen his Canadian cousin steering the four-oared boat, loaded with + wheat, he might have felt but a very qualified admiration for the majesty + of his stately demeanor and his nautical savoir faire. Stobo took + possession of the Chevalier’s pinnace, and made the haughty laird, nolens + volens, row him with the rest of the crew, telling him to row away, and + that, had the Great Louis himself been in the boat at that moment, it + would be his fate to row a British subject thus. “At these last mighty + words,” says the Memoirs, “a stern resolution sat upon his countenance, + which the Canadian beheld and with reluctance temporized.” After a series + of adventures, and dangers of every kind, the fugitives succeeded in + capturing a French boat. Next, they surprised a French sloop, and, after a + most hazardous voyage, they finally, in their prize, landed at Louisbourg, + to the general amazement. Stobo missed the English fleet; but took passage + two days after in a vessel leaving for Quebec, where he safely arrived to + tender his services to the immortal Wolfe, who gladly availed himself of + them. According to the Memoirs, Stobo used daily to set out to reconnoitre + with Wolfe on the deck of a frigate, opposite the Falls of Montmorency, + some French shots were nigh carrying away his “decorated” and gartered + legs. + </p> + <p> + We next find the Major, on the 21st July, 1759, piloting the expedition + sent to Deschambault to seize, as prisoners, the Quebec ladies who had + taken refuge there during the bombardment—“Mesdames Duchesnay and + Decharnay; Mlle. Couillard; the Joly, Malhiot and Magnan families.” “Next + day, in the afternoon, les belles captives, who had been treated with + every species of respect, were put on shore and released at Diamond + Harbour. The English admiral, full of gallantry, ordered the bombardment + of the city to be suspended, in order to afford the Quebec ladies time to + seek places of safety.” The incident is thus referred to in a letter + communicated to the Literary and Historical Society by Capt. Colin + McKenzie. + </p> + <p> + Stobo next points out the spot, at Sillery, where Wolfe landed, and soon + after was sent with despatches, via the St. Lawrence, to General Amherst; + but, during the trip, the vessel was overhauled and taken by a French + privateer, the despatches having been previously consigned to the deep. + Stobo might have swung at the yard-arm in this new predicament, had his + French valet divulged his identity with the spy of Fort du Quesne; but + fortune again stepped in to preserve the adventurous Scot. There were + already too many prisoners on board of the French privateer. A day’s + provision is allowed the English vessel, which soon landed Stobo at + Halifax, from whence he joined General Amherst, “many a league across the + country.” He served under Amherst on his Lake Champlain expedition, and + there he finished the campaign; which ended, he begs to go to + Williamsburg, the then capital of Virginia. + </p> + <p> + It seems singular that no command of any importance appears to have been + given to the brave Scot; but, possibly, the part played by the Major when + under parole at Fort du Quesne, was weighed by the Imperial authorities. + There certainly seems to be a dash of the Benedict Arnold in this + transaction. However, Stobo was publicly thanked by a committee of the + Assembly of Virginia, and was allowed his arrears of pay for the time of + his captivity. On the 30th April, 1756, he had also been presented by the + Assembly of Virginia with 300 pounds, in consideration of his services to + the country and his sufferings in his confinement as a hostage in Quebec. + On the 19th November, 1759, he was presented with 1,000 pounds as “a + reward for his zeal to his country and the recompense for the great + hardships he has suffered during his confinement in the enemy’s country.” + On the 18th February, 1760, Major Stobo embarked from New York for + England, on board the packet with Colonel West and several other + gentlemen. One would imagine that he had exhausted the vicissitudes of + fortune. But no. A French privateer boards them in the midst of the + English channel. The Major again consigns to the deep all his letters, all + except one which he forgot, in the pocket of his coat, under the arm pit. + This escaped the general catastrophe; and will again restore him to + notoriety; it is from General A. Monckton to Mr. Pitt. The passengers of + the packet were assessed 2,500 pounds to be allowed their liberty, and + Stobo had to pay 125 pounds towards the relief fund. The despatch + forgotten in his coat on delivery to the great Pitt brought back a letter + from Pitt to Amherst. With this testimonial, Stobo sailed for New York, + 24th April, 1760, to rejoin the army engaged in the invasion of Canada; + here end the Memoirs. + </p> + <p> + Though Stobo’s conduct at Fort du Quesne and at Quebec can never be + defended or palliated, all will agree that he exhibited, during his + eventful career, most indomitable fortitude, a boundless ingenuity, and + great devotion to his country—the whole crowned with final success. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Seats Of The Mighty, Complete +by Gilbert Parker + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY, COMPLETE *** + +***** This file should be named 6229-h.htm or 6229-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/2/6229/ + +Produced by Andrew Sly and David Widger + + +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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