CHAPTER IX. PIERRE PHILIBERT.

  Colonel Philibert and Le Gardeur rode rapidly through the forest ofBeaumanoir, pulling up occasionally in an eager and sympathetic exchangeof questions and replies, as they recounted the events of their livessince their separation, or recalled their school-days and gloriousholidays and rambles in the woods of Tilly--with frequent mention oftheir gentle, fair companion, Amelie de Repentigny, whose name on thelips of her brother sounded sweeter than the chime of the bells ofCharlebourg to the ear of Pierre Philibert.

  The bravest man in New France felt a tremor in his breast as he asked LeGardeur a seemingly careless question--seemingly, for, in truth, it wasvital in the last degree to his happiness, and he knew it. He expresseda fear that Amelie would have wholly forgotten him after so long anabsence from New France.

  His heart almost ceased beating as he waited the reply of Le Gardeur,which came impetuously: "Forgotten you, Pierre Philibert? She wouldforget me as soon! But for you she would have had no brother to-day, andin her prayers she ever remembers both of us--you by right of a sister'sgratitude, me because I am unworthy of her saintly prayers and need themall the more! O Pierre Philibert, you do not know Amelie if you thinkshe is one ever to forget a friend like you!"

  The heart of Philibert gave a great leap for joy. Too happy for speech,he rode on a while in silence.

  "Amelie will have changed much in appearance?" he asked, at last. Athousand questions were crowding upon his lips.

  "Changed? Oh, yes!" replied Le Gardeur, gaily. "I scarcely recognize mylittle bright-eyed sister in the tall, perfect young lady that has takenher place. But the loving heart, the pure mind, the gentle ways, andwinning smiles are the same as ever. She is somewhat more still andthoughtful, perhaps--more strict in the observances of religion. Youwill remember, I used to call her in jest our St. Amelie: I might callher that in earnest now, Pierre, and she would be worthy of the name!"

  "God bless you, Le Gardeur!" burst out Colonel Philibert,--his voicecould not repress the emotion he felt,--"and God bless Amelie! Think youshe would care to see me to-day, Le Gardeur?" Philibert's thoughtsflew far and fast, and his desire to know more of Amelie was a rackof suspense to him. She might, indeed, recollect the youth PierrePhilibert, thought he, as she did a sunbeam that gladdened long-pastsummers; but how could he expect her to regard him--the full-grownman--as the same? Nay, was he not nursing a fatal fancy in his breastthat would sting him to death? for among the gay and gallant throngabout the capital was it not more than possible that so lovely andamiable a woman had already been wooed, and given the priceless treasureof her love to another? It was, therefore, with no common feeling thatPhilibert said, "Think you she will care to see me to-day, Le Gardeur?"

  "Care to see you, Pierre Philibert? What a question! She and Aunt deTilly take every occasion to remind me of you, by way of example, toshame me of my faults--and they succeed, too! I could cut off my righthand this moment, Pierre, that it should never lift wine again to mylips--and to have been seen by you in such company! What must you thinkof me?"

  "I think your regret could not surpass mine; but tell me how you havebeen drawn into these rapids and taken the wrong turn, Le Gardeur?"

  Le Gardeur winced as he replied,--"Oh, I do not know. I found myselfthere before I thought. It was the wit, wine, and enchantments of Bigot,I suppose,--and the greatest temptation of all, a woman's smiles,--thatled me to take the wrong turn, as you call it. There, you have myconfession!--and I would put my sword through any man but you, Pierre,who dared ask me to give such an account of myself. I am ashamed of itall, Pierre Philibert!"

  "Thanks, Le Gardeur, for your confidence. I hope you will outride thisstorm!" He held out his hand, nervous and sinewy as that of Mars. LeGardeur seized it, and pressed it hard in his. "Don't you think it isstill able to rescue a friend from peril?" added Philibert smiling.

  Le Gardeur caught his meaning, and gave him a look of unutterablegratitude. "Besides this hand of mine, are there not the gentler handsof Amelie to intercede for you with your better self?" said Philibert.

  "My dear sister!" interjected Le Gardeur. "I am a coward when I think ofher, and I shame to come into her pure presence."

  "Take courage, Le Gardeur! There is hope where there is shame of ourfaults. Be equally frank with your sister as with me, and she will winyou, in spite of yourself, from the enchantments of Bigot, Cadet, andthe still more potent smiles you speak of that led you to take the wrongturn in life."

  "I doubt it is too late, Pierre! although I know that, were every otherfriend in the world to forsake me, Amelie would not! She would not evenreproach me, except by excess of affection."

  Philibert looked on his friend admiringly, at this panegyric of thewoman he loved. Le Gardeur was in feature so like his sister thatPhilibert at the moment caught the very face of Amelie, as it were,looking at him through the face of her brother. "You will not resist herpleadings, Le Gardeur,"--Philibert thought it an impossible thing. "Noguardian angel ever clung to the skirts of a sinner as Amelie will clingto you," said he; "therefore I have every hope of my dear friend LeGardeur Repentigny."

  The two riders emerged from the forest, and drew up for a minute infront of the hostelry of the Crown of France, to water their horses atthe long trough before the door and inform Dame Bedard, who ran out togreet them, that Master Pothier was following with his ambling nag at agentle pace, as befitted the gravity of his profession.

  "Oh! Master Pothier never fails to find his way to the Crown of France;but won't your Honors take a cup of wine? The day is hot and the roaddusty. 'A dry rider makes a wet nag,'" added the Dame, with a smile, asshe repeated an old saying, brought over with the rest of the butin inthe ships of Cartier and Champlain.

  The gentlemen bowed their thanks, and as Philibert looked up, he sawpretty Zoe Bedard poring over a sheet of paper bearing a red seal, andspelling out the crabbed law text of Master Pothier. Zoe, like othergirls of her class, had received a tincture of learning in the dayschools of the nuns; but, although the paper was her marriage contract,it puzzled her greatly to pick out the few chips of plain sense thatfloated in the sea of legal verbiage it contained. Zoe, with a perfectcomprehension of the claims of meum and tuum, was at no loss, however,in arriving at a satisfactory solution of the true merits of hermatrimonial contract with honest Antoine La Chance.

  She caught the eye of Philibert, and blushed to the very chin as shehuddled away the paper and returned the salute of the two handsomegentlemen, who, having refreshed their horses, rode off at a rapid trotdown the great highway that led to the city.

  Babet Le Nocher, in a new gown, short enough to reveal a pair of shapelyankles in clocked stockings and well-clad feet that would have beenthe envy of many a duchess, sat on the thwart of the boat knitting. Herblack hair was in the fashion recorded by the grave Peter Kalm, who, inhis account of New France, says, "The peasant women all wear their hairin ringlets, and nice they look!"

  "As I live!" exclaimed she to Jean, who was enjoying a pipe of nativetobacco, "here comes that handsome officer back again, and in as great ahurry to return as he was to go up the highway!"

  "Ay, ay, Babet! It is plain to see he is either on the King's errandor his own. A fair lady awaits his return in the city, or one has justdismissed him where he has been! Nothing like a woman to put quicksilverin a man's shoes--eh! Babet?"

  "Or foolish thoughts into their hearts, Jean!" replied she, laughing.

  "And nothing more natural, Babet, if women's hearts are wise enough intheir folly to like our foolish thoughts of them. But there are two!Who is that riding with the gentleman? Your eyes are better than mine,Babet!"

  "Of course, Jean! that is what I always tell you, but you won't believeme--trust my eyes, and doubt your own! The other gentleman," said she,looking fixedly, while her knitting lay still in her lap, "the other isthe young Chevalier de Repentigny. What brings him back before the restof the hunting party, I wonder?"

  "That officer must have been to Beaumanoir, and is
bringing the youngseigneur back to town," remarked Jean, puffing out a long thread ofsmoke from his lips.

  "Well, it must be something better than smoke, Jean!"--Babet coughed:she never liked the pipe--"The young chevalier is always one of the lastto give up when they have one of their three days drinking bouts up atthe Chateau. He is going to the bad, I fear--more's the pity! such anice, handsome fellow, too!"

  "All lies and calumny!" replied Jean, in a heat. "Le Gardeur deRepentigny is the son of my dear old seigneur. He may get drunk, but itwill be like a gentleman if he does, and not like a carter, Babet, orlike a--"

  "Boatman! Jean; but I don't include you--you have never been the worsefor drinking water since I took care of your liquor, Jean!"

  "Ay, you are intoxication enough of yourself for me, Babet! Two brighteyes like yours, a pipe and bitters, with grace before meat, would saveany Christian man in this world." Jean stood up, politely doffing hisred tuque to the gentlemen. Le Gardeur stooped from his horse to grasphis hand, for Jean had been an old servitor at Tilly, and the youngseigneur was too noble-minded and polite to omit a kindly notice of eventhe humblest of his acquaintance.

  "Had a busy day, Jean, with the old ferry?" asked Le Gardeur, cheerily.

  "No, your Honor, but yesterday I think half the country-side crossedover to the city on the King's corvee. The men went to work, and thewomen followed to look after them, ha! ha!" Jean winked provokingly atBabet, who took him up sharply.

  "And why should not the women go after the men? I trow men are not soplentiful in New France as they used to be before this weary war began.It well behooves the women to take good care of all that are left."

  "That is true as the Sunday sermon," remarked Jean. "Why, it was onlythe other day I heard that great foreign gentleman, who is the guest ofHis Excellency the Governor, say, sitting in this very boat, that 'thereare at this time four women to every man in New France!' If that istrue, Babet,--and you know he said it, for you were angry enough,--aman is a prize indeed, in New France, and women are plenty as eggs atEaster!"

  "The foreign gentleman had much assurance to say it, even if it weretrue: he were much better employed picking up weeds and putting them inhis book!" exclaimed Babet, hotly.

  "Come! come!" cried Le Gardeur, interrupting this debate on thepopulation; "Providence knows the worth of Canadian women, and cannotgive us too many of them. We are in a hurry to get to the city, Jean, solet us embark. My aunt and Amelie are in the old home in the city; theywill be glad to see you and Babet," added he, kindly, as he got into theboat.

  Babet dropped her neatest courtesy, and Jean, all alive to his duty,pushed off his boat, bearing the two gentlemen and their horses acrossthe broad St. Charles to the King's Quay, where they remounted, andriding past the huge palace of the Intendant, dashed up the steep Coteau Chien and through the city gate, disappearing from the eyes of Babet,who looked very admiringly after them. Her thoughts were especiallycommendatory of the handsome officer in full uniform who had been sopolite and generous in the morning.

  "I was afraid, Jean, you were going to blurt out about Mademoiselle desMeloises," remarked Babet to Jean on his return; "men are so indiscreetalways!"

  "Leaky boats! leaky boats! Babet! no rowing them with a woman aboard!sure to run on the bank. But what about Mademoiselle des Meloises?"Honest Jean had passed her over the ferry an hour ago, and been sorelytempted to inform Le Gardeur of the interesting fact.

  "What about Mademoiselle des Meloises?" Babet spoke rather sharply."Why, all Quebec knows that the Seigneur de Repentigny is mad in lovewith her."

  "And why should he not be mad in love with her if he likes?" repliedJean; "she is a morsel fit for a king, and if Le Gardeur should loseboth his heart and his wits on her account, it is only what half thegallants of Quebec have done."

  "Oh, Jean, Jean! it is plain to see you have an eye in your head as wellas a soft place!" ejaculated Babet, recommencing her knitting with freshvigor, and working off the electricity that was stirring in her.

  "I had two eyes in my head when I chose you, Babet, and the soft placewas in my heart!" replied Jean, heartily. The compliment was taken witha smile, as it deserved to be. "Look you, Babet, I would not give thispinch of snuff," said Jean, raising his thumb and two fingers holdinga good dose of the pungent dust,--"I would not give this pinch of snufffor any young fellow who could be indifferent to the charms of such apretty lass as Angelique des Meloises!"

  "Well, I am glad you did not tell the Seigneur de Repentigny that shehad crossed the ferry and gone--not to look for him, I'll be bound! Iwill tell you something by and by, Jean, if you will come in and eatyour dinner; I have something you like."

  "What is it, Babet?" Jean was, after all, more curious about his dinnerthan about the fair lady.

  "Oh, something you like--that is a wife's secret: keep the stomach ofa man warm, and his heart will never grow cold. What say you to friedeels?"

  "Bravo!" cried the gay old boatman, as he sang,

  "'Ah! ah! ah! frit a l'huile, Frit au beurre et a l'ognon!'"

  and the jolly couple danced into their little cottage--no king and queenin Christendom half so happy as they.

 
William Kirby's Novels