Chapter XXXIV
The Soul’s Supremer Sense
At this point it seems proper that I should once more speak in my ownperson; for at this point the story of my beloved once more converges tomy own.
I was awakened out of a bitter dream by Marc’s lips moving at my ear inthe stealthiest whisper. The first pallor of dawn was sifting downamongst us from the open hatch, opened for air. I nodded my head tosignify I was awake and listening. There was a ringing gabble of smallwaves against the ship’s side, covering up all trivial sounds; and Iknew we were tacking.
“Listen now, Paul,” said Marc’s obscure whisper, like a voice within myhead. “We have made a beginning earlier than we planned, because theguards were sleepy, and the noise of these light waves favoured us. Youknew, or guessed, we had a plan. That wily fox, La Mouche, brought afile with him in his boot. It was sent to him while he was in the chapelprison. Grûl, none other, sent it to him inside a loaf of bread—and,faith, thereby came a broken tooth. Your Grûl is wonderful, a _deus exmachinâ_ every time. Well, we muffled the file in my shirt, and Iscraped away, under cover of all this good noise, at the spring of LaMouche’s handcuffs, till it gave. Now he can slip them on and off in atwinkling; but to the eye of authority they are infrangible as ever. Oh,things are coming our way at last, for a change, my poor dejected! Wewill rise to-night, this very coming night, if all goes well; and theship will be ours, for we are five to one.”
There was a thrill in his whisper, imperturbable Marc though he was.Under the long chafing of restraint his imperturbability had worn thin.
My own blood flowed with a sudden warmth at his words. Here was a nearhope of freedom, and freedom would mean to me but one thing—a swiftreturn to the neighbourhood where I might achieve to see Yvonne. I feltthe strong medicine of this thought working health in every vein.
“But how to-night?” I whispered back, unwilling to be too soon sanguine.“It takes time to file fetters, _n’est-ce pas_?”
“Oh, but trust La Mouche!” replied Marc. “He understands thosebracelets—as you, my cousin, in days you doubtless choose to forget,understood the more fragile, but scarce less fettering, ones affected byfair arms in Montreal, or Quebec, or even Trois Pistoles.”
I took it ill of my cousin to gall my sore at such a moment, but Istrictly held my tongue; and after a vexing pause he went on:
“This wily La Mouche—with free hands and the knowing how, it is but aturn and a click, and the thing is off. It will be no mean weapon, too,when we’re ready to wield it.”
I stretched fiercely.
“Pray God it be to-night!” I muttered.
“S-sh-sh!” whispered Marc in my ear. “Not so loud, boy! Now, with thisto dream on, go to sleep again. There’ll be something to keep us awakenext night.”
“And when we’ve got the ship, what then?” I whispered, feeling no doubtof our success.
“We’ll run into the St. John mouth,” was the answer, “and then, leavingthe women and children, with such men as will stay, at the Jemsegsettlement, we will strike overland on snow-shoes for Quebec.”
“And I for Grand Pré,” said I doggedly.
I heard the ghost of a laugh flit from Marc’s lips.
“Good dog! Hold fast!” said he.
There was no gainsaying it. I was better. For perhaps an hour or two Islept like a baby, to awake deeply refreshed. A clear light came downthe hatch, and there was a busy tramping of sailors overhead. It washigh morning.
We were all awake, but silent. Sullen we might have seemed, andhopelessly submissive, but there was an alertness in the eyes flashingeverywhere toward Marc and me, such as might have been warning to a folkless hardily indifferent than our captors. Two red-coated guards, taxedwith the office of preventing conspiracy, paced up and down with theirheads high and heeded us little. “What could these poor handcuffedwretches do, anyway?” was the palpable significance of their mien.
We desired indeed, at that time, to do nothing save eat the breakfast ofweevilly biscuits just now served out to us, with good water still sweetfrom the wells of vanished Grand Pré. When one has hunger, there is rarerelish in a weevilly biscuit; and I could have desired more of them thanI got. With our fettered hands we ate like a colony of squirrels.
In the course of the morning it was not difficult, the guards being soheedless, to pass whispered word from one to another, so that soon allMarc’s plans were duly laid down. His was the devising and orderinghead, while La Mouche, for all his subtlety, and long Philibert Trou,for all his craft, were but the wielded instruments. It was an unwontedpart for me to be playing, this of blindly following another’s lead; butMarc had done well, seeing my heavy preoccupation, to make no greatdemand upon my wits. My arm, he knew, would be ready enough at need. Iwas not jealous. I wanted to fight the English; but I wanted tothink—well, of just one thing on earth. Looking back now, I trust Iwould have been more useful to our cause that morning had not Marc’scapacity made wits of mine superfluous.
Throughout the morning we were all so quiet that the ship’s rats, leanand grey, came out and ate the few crumbs we had let drop. Nevertheless,ere an hour before noon every man knew the part he was to play in theventure of next night. Long Philibert and La Mouche, with two otherAcadian woodsmen skilled in ambuscade, were to deal with the guardsilently. Marc and I, with no stomach for aught but open warfare, wereto lead the rush up through the hatchway, to an excellent chance of abayonet through our gullets. I felt justified now, however, inconsidering as to whether I should be likely to find Yvonne still atGrand Pré, casting a ray of beauty on the ruins, or at Halifax,disturbing with her eyes the deliberations of the governor and hiscouncil.
I said—one hour before noon. About that time the speed of the shipsensibly slackened, and there seemed presently a confusion, anexcitement of some sort upon deck. We heard hails and sharp orders.There was a sound as of people coming on board. And then, of a sudden, astrange trembling seized upon me. It was in every nerve and vein, and myheart shook merely, instead of beating. Such a feeling had come over meonce before—when Yvonne’s eyes, turned upon me suddenly, seemed to saymore than her lips would have permitted her to acknowledge. With a faintlaugh at the very madness of it I could not but say to Marc:
“I think that is Yvonne coming!”
Whereupon he looked at me solicitously, as if he thought I was about tobe taken with some sickness.
I bit my tongue for having said it.
Before many minutes, however, footsteps passed near the hatchway, andagain the trembling took me. Then I caught a ripple of clearlaughter—life has never afforded to my ears other melody so sweet asthat laughter was, and is, and always will be. I sprang straight upon myfeet, but instantly sat down again. Marc himself had heard it and waspuzzled, for who that had ever heard the laughter of Yvonne de Lamouriecould forget it?
“It—_is she_!” I said to him, in a thick voice.