CHAPTER XXVIII. A DAY AT THE MANOR HOUSE.
Amelie, after a night of wakefulness and wrestling with a tumult ofnew thoughts and emotions,--no longer dreams, but realities oflife,--dressed herself in a light morning costume, which, simple asit was, bore the touch of her graceful hand and perfect taste. With abroad-brimmed straw hat set upon her dark tresses, which were knottedwith careless care in a blue ribbon, she descended the steps of theManor House. There was a deep bloom upon her cheeks, and her eyeslooked like fountains of light and gladness, running over to bless allbeholders.
She inquired of Felix Beaudoin of her brother. The old majordomo, with asignificant look, informed her that Monsieur Le Gardeur had just orderedhis horse to ride to the village. He had first called for a decanter ofCognac, and when it was brought to him he suddenly thrust it back andwould not taste it. "He would not drink even Jove's nectar in the ManorHouse, he said; but would go down to the village, where Satan mixed thedrink for thirsty souls like his! Poor Le Gardeur!" continued Felix,"you must not let him go to the village this morning, mademoiselle!"
Amelie was startled at this information. She hastened at once to seekher brother, whom she found walking impatiently in the garden, slashingthe heads off the poppies and dahlias within reach of his riding-whip.He was equipped for a ride, and waited the coming of the groom with hishorse.
Amelie ran up, and clasping his arms with both hands as she looked upin his face with a smile, exclaimed, "Do not go to the village yet, LeGardeur! Wait for us!"
"Not go to the village yet, Amelie?" replied he; "why not? I shallreturn for breakfast, although I have no appetite. I thought a ride tothe village would give me one."
"Wait until after breakfast, brother, when we will all go with you tomeet our friends who come this morning to Tilly,--our cousin Heloise deLotbiniere is coming to see you and Pierre Philibert; you must be thereto welcome her,--gallants are too scarce to allow her to spare thehandsomest of all, my own brother!"
Amelie divined truly from Le Gardeur's restless eyes and haggard lookthat a fierce conflict was going on in his breast between duty anddesire,--whether he should remain at home, or go to the village toplunge again into the sea of dissipation out of which he had just beendrawn to land half-drowned and utterly desperate.
Amelie resolved not to leave his side, but to cleave to him, and inch byinch to fight the demons which possessed him until she got the victory.
Le Gardeur looked fondly in the face of Amelie. He read her thoughts,and was very conscious why she wished him not to go to the village. Hisfeelings gave way before her love and tenderness. He suddenly embracedher and kissed her cheeks, while the tears stood welling in his eyes. "Iam not worthy of you, Amelie," said he; "so much sisterly care is loston me!"
"Oh, say not that, brother," replied she, kissing him fondly in return."I would give my life to save you, O my brother!"
Amelie was greatly moved, and for a time unable to speak further; shelaid her head on his shoulder, and sobbed audibly. Her love gained thevictory where remonstrance and opposition would have lost it.
"You have won the day, Amelie!" said he; "I will not go to the villageexcept with you. You are the best and truest girl in all Christendom!Why is there no other like you? If there were, this curse had not comeupon me, nor this trial upon you, Amelie! You are my good angel, and Iwill try, oh, so faithfully try, to be guided by you! If you fail, youwill at least have done all and more than your duty towards your erringbrother."
"Le Brun!" cried he to the groom who had brought his horse, and to whomhe threw the whip which had made such havoc among the flowers, "leadBlack Caesar to the stable again! and hark you! when I bid you bringhim out in the early morning another time, lead him to me unbridled andunsaddled, with only a halter on his head, that I may ride as a clown,not as a gentleman!"
Le Brun stared at this speech, and finally regarded it as a capitaljoke, or else, as he whispered to his fellow-grooms in the stable, hebelieved his young master had gone mad.
"Pierre Philibert," continued Amelie, "is down at the salmon pool. Letus join him, Le Gardeur, and bid him good morning once more at Tilly."
Amelie, overjoyed at her victory, tripped gaily by the side ofher brother, and presently two friendly hands, the hands of PierrePhilibert, were extended to greet her and Le Gardeur.
The hand of Amelie was retained for a moment in that of PierrePhilibert, sending the blood to her cheeks. There is a magnetic touch inloving fingers which is never mistaken, though their contact be but fora second of time: it anticipates the strong grasp of love which willere long embrace body and soul in adamantine chains of a union not to bebroken even by death.
If Pierre Philibert retained the hand of Amelie for one second longerthan mere friendship required of him, no one perceived it but Godand themselves. Pierre felt it like a revelation--the hand of Amelieyielding timidly, but not unwillingly, to his manly grasp. He looked inher face. Her eyes were averted, and she withdrew her hand quietly butgently, as not upbraiding him.
That moment of time flashed a new influence upon both their lives: itwas the silent recognition that each was henceforth conscious of thespecial regard of the other.
There are moments which contain the whole quintessence of ourlives,--our loves, our hopes, our failures, in one concentrated drop ofhappiness or misery. We look behind us and see that our whole past hasled up to that infinitesimal fraction of time which is the consummationof the past in the present, the end of the old and the beginning of thenew. We look forward from the vantage ground of the present, and theworld of a new revelation lies before us.
Pierre Philibert was conscious from that moment that Amelie deRepentigny was not indifferent to him,--nay, he had a ground of hopethat in time she would listen to his pleadings, and at last bestow onhim the gift of her priceless love.
His hopes were sure hopes, although he did not dare to give himself thesweet assurance of it, nor did Amelie herself as yet suspect how far herheart was irrevocably wedded to Pierre Philibert.
Deep as was the impression of that moment upon both of them, neitherPhilibert nor Amelie yielded to its influence more than to lapse into amomentary silence, which was relieved by Le Gardeur, who, suspecting notthe cause,--nay, thinking it was on his account that his companionswere so unaccountably grave and still, kindly endeavored to force theconversation upon a number of interesting topics, and directed theattention of Philibert to various points of the landscape whichsuggested reminiscences of his former visits to Tilly.
The equilibrium of conversation was restored, and the three, sittingdown on a long, flat stone, a boulder which had dropped millions ofyears before out of an iceberg as it sailed slowly over the glacialocean which then covered the place of New France, commenced to talk overAmelie's programme of the previous night, the amusements she had plannedfor the week, the friends in all quarters they were to visit, and thefriends from all quarters they were to receive at the Manor House.These topics formed a source of fruitful comment, as conversation on ourfriends always does. If the sun shone hot and fierce at noontide in thedog-days, they would enjoy the cool shade of the arbors with books andconversation; they would ride in the forest, or embark in their canoesfor a row up the bright little river; there would be dinners anddiversions for the day, music and dancing for the night.
The spirits of the inmates of the Manor House could not help but bekept up by these expedients, and Amelie flattered herself that she wouldquite succeed in dissipating the gloomy thoughts which occupied the mindof Le Gardeur.
They sat on the stone by the brook-side for an hour, conversingpleasantly while they watched the speckled trout dart like silver arrowsspotted with blood in the clear pool.
Le Gardeur strove to be gay, and teased Amelie in playfully criticizingher programme, and, half in earnest, half in jest, arguing for thesuperior attractions of the Palace of the Intendant to those of theManor House of Tilly. He saw the water standing in her eyes, when aconsciousness of what must be her feelings seized him; he drew h
er tohis side, asked her forgiveness, and wished fire were set to the Palaceand himself in the midst of it! He deserved it for wounding, even injest, the heart of the best and noblest sister in the world.
"I am not wounded, dear Le Gardeur," replied she, softly; "I knew youwere only in jest. My foolish heart is so sensitive to all mention ofthe Palace and its occupants in connection with you, that I could noteven take in jest what was so like truth."
"Forgive me, I will never mention the Palace to you again, Amelie,except to repeat the malediction I have bestowed upon it a thousandtimes an hour since I returned to Tilly."
"My own brave brother!" exclaimed she, embracing him, "now I am happy!"
The shrill notes of a bugle were heard sounding a military call tobreakfast. It was the special privilege of an old servitor of thefamily, who had been a trumpeter in the troop of the Seigneur of Tilly,to summon the family of the Manor House in that manner to breakfastonly. The old trumpeter had solicited long to be allowed to sound thereveille at break of day, but the good Lady de Tilly had too muchregard for the repose of the inmates of her house to consent to any suchuntimely waking of them from their morning slumbers.
The old, familiar call was recognized by Philibert, who reminded Amelieof a day when Aeolus (the ancient trumpeter bore that windy sobriquet)had accompanied them on a long ramble in the forest,--how, the day beingwarm, the old man fell asleep under a comfortable shade, while the threechildren straggled off into the depths of the woods, where they werespeedily lost.
"I remember it like yesterday, Pierre," exclaimed Amelie, sparkling atthe reminiscence; "I recollect how I wept and wrung my hands, tired out,hungry, and forlorn, with my dress in tatters, and one shoe left in amiry place! I recollect, moreover, that my protectors were in almost asbad a plight as myself, yet they chivalrously carried the little maidenby turns, or together made a queen's chair for me with their lockedhands, until we all broke down together and sat crying at the foot ofa tree, reminding one another of the babes in the wood, and recountingstories of bears which had devoured lost naughty children in the forest.I remember how we all knelt down at last and recited our prayers untilsuddenly we heard the bugle-call of Aeolus sounding close by us. Thepoor old man, wild with rapture at having found us, kissed and shook usso violently that we almost wished ourselves lost in the forest again."
The recollection of this adventure was very pleasing to Pierre. Herecalled every incident of it perfectly, and all three of them seemedfor a while transported back into the fairy-land of their happychildhood.
The bugle-call of old Aeolus again sounded, and the three friends roseand proceeded towards the house.
The little brook--it had never looked so bright before toAmelie--sparkled with joy like her own eyes. The orioles and blackbirdswarbled in the bushes, and the insects which love warmth and sunshinechirmed and chirruped among the ferns and branches as Amelie, Pierre,and Le Gardeur walked home along the green footpath under the avenue ofelms that led to the chateau.
The Lady de Tilly received them with many pleasant words. Leadingthem into the breakfast-room, she congratulated Le Gardeur upon thesatisfaction it afforded her to see her dear children, so she calledthem, once more seated round her board in health and happiness. Ameliecolored slightly, and looked at her aunt as if questioning whether sheincluded Philibert among her children.
The Lady de Tilly guessed her thought, but pretending not to, bade Felixproceed with the breakfast, and turned the conversation to topics moregeneral. "The Iroquois," she said, "had left the Chaudiere and gonefurther eastward; the news had just been brought in by messengers tothe Seigniory, and it was probable, nay, certain that they would not beheard of again. Therefore Le Gardeur and Pierre Philibert were underno necessity of leaving the Manor to search for the savages, but couldarrange with Amelie for as much enjoyment as they could crowd into thesesummer days."
"It is all arranged, aunt!" replied Amelie. "We have held a courpleniere this morning, and made a code of laws for our Kingdom ofCocagne during the next eight days. It needs only the consent of oursuzeraine lady to be at once acted upon."
"And your suzeraine lady gives her consent without further questioning,Amelie! although I confess you have an admirable way of carrying yourpoint, Amelie," said her aunt, laughing; "you resolve first what youwill do, and ask my approbation after."
"Yes, aunt, that is our way in the kingdom of pleasure! And we beginthis morning: Le Gardeur and Pierre will ride to the village to meet ourcousin Heloise, from Lotbiniere."
"But you will accompany us, Amelie!" exclaimed Le Gardeur. "I will notgo else,--it was a bargain!"
"Oh, I did not count myself for anything but an embarrassment! of courseI shall go with you, Le Gardeur, but our cousin Heloise de Lotbiniere iscoming to see you, not me. She lost her heart," remarked she, turning toPierre, "when she was last here, at the feast of St. John, and is comingto seek it again."
"Ah! how was that, Amelie?" asked Philibert. "I remember the lovelyface, the chestnut curls, and bright black eyes of Heloise deLotbiniere. And has hers really gone the way of all hearts?"
"Of all good hearts, Pierre,--but you shall hear if you will be good andlisten. She saw the portraits of you and Le Gardeur, one day, hung inthe boudoir of my aunt. Heloise professed that she admired both untilshe could not tell which she liked best, and left me to decide."
"Ah! and which of us did you give to the fair Heloise?" demandedPhilibert with a sudden interest.
"Not the Abelard she wanted, you may be sure, Pierre," exclaimedLe Gardeur; "she gave me, and kept you! It was a case of clearmisappropriation."
"No, brother, not so!" replied Amelie, hastily. "Heloise had tried thecharm of the three caskets with the three names without result, and atlast watched in the church porch, on the eve of St. John, to see theshade of her destined lover pass by, and lo, Heloise vowed she saw me,and no one else, pass into the church!"
"Ah! I suppose it was you? It is no rare thing for you to visit theshrine of our Lady on the eve of St. John. Pierre Philibert, do yourecollect? Oh, not as I do, dear friend," continued Le Gardeur with asudden change of voice, which was now filled with emotion: "it wason the day of St. John you saved my poor worthless life. We are notungrateful! She has kept the eve of St. John in the church ever since,in commemoration of that event."
"Brother, we have much to thank Heaven for!" replied Amelie, blushingdeeply at his words, "and I trust we shall never be ungrateful for itsfavor and protection."
Amelie shied from a compliment like a young colt at its own shadow.She avoided further reference to the subject broached by Le Gardeurby saying,--"It was I whom Heloise saw pass into the church. I neverexplained the mystery to her, and she is not sure yet whether it wasmy wraith or myself who gave her that fright on St. John's eve. But Iclaimed her heart as one authorized to take it, and if I could not marryher myself I claimed the right to give her to whomsoever I pleased, andI gave her to you, Le Gardeur, but you would not accept the sweetestgirl in New France!"
"Thanks, Amelie," replied he, laughing, yet wincing. "Heloise is indeedall you say, the sweetest girl in New France! But she was too angelicfor Le Gardeur de Repentigny. Pshaw! you make me say foolish things,Amelie. But in penance for my slight, I will be doubly attentive to myfair cousin de Lotbiniere to-day. I will at once order the horses and wewill ride down to the village to meet her."
Arrayed in a simple riding-dress of dark blue, which became her as dideverything else which she wore,--Amelie's very attire seemed instinctwith the living graces and charms of its wearer,--she mounted her horse,accepting the aid of Philibert to do so, although when alone she usuallysprang to the saddle herself, saluting the Lady de Tilly, who waved herhand to them from the lawn. The three friends slowly cantered down thebroad avenue of the park towards the village of Tilly.
Amelie rode well. The exercise and the pure air brought the fresh colorto her face, and her eyes sparkled with animation as she conversed gailywith her brother and Philibert.
They speedily re
ached the village, where they met Heloise de Lotbiniere,who, rushing to Amelie, kissed her with effusion, and as she greeted LeGardeur looked up as if she would not have refused a warmer salutationthan the kind shake of the hand with which he received her. She welcomedPhilibert with glad surprise, recognizing him at once, and givinga glance at Amelie which expressed an ocean of unspoken meaning andsympathy.
Heloise was beautiful, gay, spirited, full of good humor andsensibility. Her heart had long been devoted to Le Gardeur, but nevermeeting with any response to her shy advances, which were like thewheeling of a dove round and round its wished-for mate, she had longconcluded with a sigh that for her the soul of Le Gardeur was insensibleto any touch of a warmer regard than sprang from the most sincerefriendship.
Amelie saw and understood all this; she loved Heloise, and in her quietway had tried to awaken a kinder feeling for her in the heart of herbrother. As one fights fire with fire in the great conflagrations ofthe prairies, Amelie hoped also to combat the influence of Angelique desMeloises by raising up a potent rival in the fair Heloise de Lotbinierebut she soon found how futile were her endeavors. The heart of LeGardeur was wedded to the idol of his fancy, and no woman on earth couldwin him away from Angelique.
Amelie comforted Heloise by the gift of her whole confidence andsympathy. The poor disappointed girl accepted the decree of fate, knownto no other but Amelie, while in revenge upon herself--a thing not rarein proud, sensitive natures--she appeared in society more gay, moreradiant and full of mirth than ever before. Heloise hid the asp in herbosom, but so long as its bite was unseen she laughed cruelly at thepain of it, and deceived, as she thought, the eyes of the world as toher suffering.
The arrival of Heloise de Lotbiniere was followed by that of a crowd ofother visitors, who came to the Manor House to pay their respects tothe family on their return home, and especially to greet Le Gardeur andColonel Philibert, who was well remembered, and whom the busy tonguesof gossip already set down as a suitor for the hand of the youngchatelaine.
The report of what was said by so many whispering friends was quicklycarried to the ear of Amelie by some of her light-hearted companions.She blushed at the accusation, and gently denied all knowledge of it,laughing as a woman will laugh who carries a hidden joy or a hiddensorrow in her heart, neither of which she cares to reveal to the world'seye. Amelie listened to the pleasant tale with secret complaisance, for,despite her tremor and confusion, it was pleasant to hear that PierrePhilibert loved her, and was considered a suitor for her hand. It wassweet to know that the world believed she was his choice.
She threaded every one of these precious words, like a chaplet of pearlsupon the strings of her heart,--contemplating them, counting them overand over in secret, with a joy known only to herself and to God, whomshe prayed to guide her right whatever might happen.
That something would happen ere long she felt a premonition, which attimes made her grave in the midst of her hopes and anticipations.
The days passed gaily at Tilly. Amelie carried out the elaborateprogramme which she had arranged for the amusement of Le Gardeur as wellas for the pleasures of her guests.
Every day brought a change and a fresh enjoyment. The mornings weredevoted by the gentlemen to hunting, fishing, and other sport; by theladies to reading, music, drawing, needlework, or the arrangements ofdress and ornaments. In the afternoons all met together, and the socialevening was spent either at the Manor House or some neighboring mansion.The hospitality of all was alike: a profusion of social feeling formed,at that day, a marked characteristic of the people of New France.
The Lady de Tilly spent an hour or two each day with her trusty landsteward, or bailli, Master Cote, in attending to the multifariousbusiness of her Seigniory. The feudal law of New France imposed greatduties and much labor upon the lords of the manor, by giving them aninterest in every man's estate, and making them participators in everytransfer of land throughout a wide district of country. A person whoacquired, by purchase or otherwise, the lands of a censitaire, orvassal, was held to perform foi et hommage for the lands so acquired,and to acquit all other feudal dues owing by the original holder to hisseigneur.
It was during one of these fair summer days at Tilly that SieurTranchelot, having acquired the farm of the Bocage, a strip of landa furlong wide and a league in depth, with a pleasant frontage on thebroad St. Lawrence, the new censitaire came as in duty bound to renderfoi et hommage for the same to the lady of the Manor of Tilly, accordingto the law and custom of the Seigniory.
At the hour of noon, Lady de Tilly, with Le Gardeur, Amelie, and PierrePhilibert, in full dress, stood on a dais in the great hall; Master Cotesat at a table on the floor in front, with his great clasped book ofrecord open before him. A drawn sword lay upon the table, and a cup ofwine stood by the side of it.
When all was arranged, three loud knocks were heard on the great door,and the Sieur Tranchelot, dressed in his holiday costume, but bareheadedand without sword or spurs,--not being gentilhomme he was not entitledto wear them,--entered the door, which was ceremoniously opened for himby the majordomo. He was gravely led up to the dais, where stood thelady of the Manor, by the steward bearing his wand of office.
The worthy censitaire knelt down before the lady, and repeating her namethree times, pronounced the formula of foi et hommage prescribed by thelaw, as owing to the lords of the Manor of Tilly.
"My Lady de Tilly! My Lady de Tilly! My Lady de Tilly! I render youfealty and homage due to you on account of my lands of the Bocage, whichbelong to me by virtue of the deed executed by the Sieur Marcel beforethe worthy notary Jean Pothier dit Robin, on the day of Palms, 1748,and I avow my willingness to acquit the seigniorial and feudal cens etrentes, and all other lawful dues, whensoever payable by me; beseechingyou to be my good liege lady, and to admit me to the said fealty andhomage."
The lady accepted the homage of Sieur Tranchelot, graciously remittedthe lods et ventes,--the fines payable to the seigneur,--gave him thecup of wine to drink when he rose to his feet, and ordered him to begenerously entertained by her majordomo, and sent back to the Bocagerejoicing.
So the days passed by in alternation of business and pastime, but allmade a pleasure for the agreeable inmates of the Manor House. Philibertgave himself up to the delirium of enchantment which the presence ofAmelie threw over him. He never tired of watching the fresh developmentsof her gloriously-endowed nature. Her beauty, rare as it was, grewday by day upon his wonder and admiration, as he saw how fully itcorresponded to the innate grace and nobility of her mind.
She was so fresh of thought, so free from all affectation, so gentle andwinning in all her ways, and, sooth to say, so happy in the admirationof Philibert, which she was very conscious of now. It darted from hiseyes at every look, although no word of it had yet passed his lips. Theradiance of her spirits flashed like sunbeams through every part of theold Manor House.
Amelie was carried away in a flood of new emotion; she tried once ortwice to be discreetly angry with herself for admitting so unreservedlythe pleasure she felt in Pierre's admiration; she placed her soul on arack of self-questioning torture, and every inquisition she made of herheart returned the self-same answer: she loved Pierre Philibert!
It was in vain she accused herself of possible impropriety: that it wasbold, unmaidenly, censurable, nay, perhaps sinful, to give her heartbefore it had been asked for; but if she had to die for it, she couldnot conceal the truth, that she loved Pierre Philibert! "I ought to beangry with myself," said she. "I try to be so, but I cannot! Why?"
"Why?" Amelie solved the query as every true woman does, who asksherself why she loves one man rather than another. "Because he haschosen me out in preference to all others, to be the treasure-keeper ofhis affections! I am proud," continued Amelie, "that he gives his loveto me, to me! unworthy as I am of such preference. I am no better thanothers." Amelie was a true woman: proud as an empress before other men,she was humble and lowly as the Madonna in the presence of him whom shefelt was, by right of love,
lord and master of her affections.
Amelie could not overcome a feeling of tremor in the presence of Pierresince she made this discovery. Her cheek warmed with an incipient flushwhen his ardent eyes glanced at her too eloquently. She knew what wasin his heart, and once or twice, when casually alone with Philibert, shesaw his lips quivering under a hard restraint to keep in the words, thedear words, she thought, which would one day burst forth in a floodof passionate eloquence, overwhelming all denial, and make her his ownforever.
Time and tide, which come to all once in our lives, as the poet says,and which must be taken at their flood to lead to fortune, came atlength to Amelie de Repentigny.
It came suddenly and in an unlooked-for hour, the great question ofquestions to her as to every woman.
The hour of birth and the hour of death are in God's hand, but the hourwhen a woman, yielding to the strong enfolding arm of a man who lovesher, falters forth an avowal of her love, and plights her troth, andvows to be one with him till death, God leaves that question to bedecided by her own heart. His blessing rests upon her choice, if purelove guides and reason enlightens affection. His curse infalliblyfollows every faithless pledge where no heart is, every union that isnot the marriage of love and truth. These alone can be married, andwhere these are absent there is no marriage at all in the face ofHeaven, and but the simulation of one on earth, an unequal yoking,which, if man will not sunder, God will at last, where there is neithermarriage nor giving in marriage, but all are as his angels.
The day appointed for the long-planned excursion to the beautiful Lakeof Tilly came round. A numerous and cheerful water-party left the ManorHouse in the bright, cool morning to spend the day gipsying in theshady woods and quiet recesses of the little lake. They were all there:Amelie's invitation to her young friends far and near had been eagerlyaccepted. Half a dozen boats and canoes, filled with light-heartedcompanions and with ample provisions for the day, shot up the narrowriver, and after a rapid and merry voyage, disembarked their passengersand were drawn up on the shores and islands of the lake.
That bright morning was followed by a sunny day of blue skies, warm yetbreezy. The old oaks wove a carpet of shadows, changing the patternof its tissue every hour upon the leaf-strewn floor of the forest.The fresh pines shed their resinous perfume on every side in the stillshade, but out in the sunshine the birds sang merrily all day.
The groups of merrymakers spent a glorious day of pleasure by the sideof the clear, smooth lake, fishing and junketing on shore, or paddlingtheir birch canoes over its waters among the little islands which dottedits surface.
Day was fast fading away into a soft twilight; the shadows which hadbeen drawing out longer and longer as the sun declined, lay now in alltheir length, like bands stretched over the greensward. The breeze wentdown with the sun, and the smooth surface of the lake lay like a sheetof molten gold reflecting the parting glories of the day that still litup the western sky.
A few stars began to twinkle here and there--they were not destined toshine brilliantly to-night, for they would ere long be eclipsed bythe splendor of the full moon, which was just at hand, rising in ahemisphere of light, which stood like a royal pavilion on the easternhorizon. From it in a few minutes would emerge the queen of heaven, andmildly replace the vanishing glory of the day.
The company, after a repast under the trees, rose full of life andmerriment and rearranged themselves into little groups and couples aschance or inclination led them. They trooped down to the beach to embarkin their canoes for a last joyous cruise round the lake and its fairyislands, by moonlight, before returning home.
Amid a shower of lively conversation and laughter, the ladies seatedthemselves in the light canoes, which danced like corks upon the water.The gentlemen took the paddles, and, expert as Indians in the use ofthem, swept out over the surface of the lake, which was now all aglowwith the bright crimson of sunset.
In the bow of one of the canoes sat the Arion of Tilly, Jean de LaMarche; a flute or two accompanied his violin, and a guitar tinkledsweetly under the fingers of Heloise de Lotbiniere. They played an oldair, while Jean led the chorus in splendid voice:
"'Nous irons sur l'eau, Nous y prom-promener, Nous irons jouer dans l'isle.'"
The voices of all united in the song as the canoes swept away around alittle promontory, crowned with three pine-trees, which stood up in theblaze of the setting sun like the three children in the fiery furnace,or the sacred bush that burned and was not consumed.
Faint and fainter, the echoes repeated the receding harmony, until atlast they died away. A solemn silence succeeded. A languor like that ofthe lotus-eaters crept over the face of nature and softened the heart tounwonted tenderness. It was the hour of gentle thoughts, of low spokenconfidences, and love between young and sympathizing souls, who alonewith themselves and God confess their mutual love and invoke hisblessing upon it.