The Plowshare and the Sword: A Tale of Old Quebec
CHAPTER XVI.
CLAIRVOYANCE.
While Geoffrey Viner was winning the love of Madeleine Labroquerie, andescaping the snare which La Salle had contrived for his capture,history was being made around the river and the heights. The priest'sdaring venture into the forbidden country acted upon the tribes of theIroquois confederacy as a spark upon gunpowder; and when it becameknown from one camp-fire to another that George Flower, and Richard,son of Gitsa, had fallen upon Cayuga territory by the hand of aFrenchman, the native stoicism was changed into madness and the signalfor a general uprising went throughout the land. It was the eve ofthat great assault upon the French position which lives in oraltradition among those degraded descendants of a once great people whooccupy the maritime provinces of to-day.
Previous to that struggle, one phase of which was shown through theportent of the mirage to La Salle while he stood in the haunted grove,many deeds occurred which the chronicler cannot afford to pass over.The narrative must therefore be resumed upon the second morningfollowing the dispersion of the venturers, that morning which saw MaryIden set forth on her mission of vengeance, and Oskelano returning tohis fastness in the north to prepare his men for battle.
The sun had fought down the mists, and black craft of the fishermenwere already leaping along the river, when Van Vuren abandoned thefortress and climbed the cliff, hoping, as every day he hoped, to findsome trace of his missing men. The night had been cold with northwind, and the rock country, was still haunted with wet and flickeringshadows. One shadow, so dark and angular as to attract the Dutchman'seyes, lurked under a crag, as a patch of sheltered ice might linger inthe midst of a land steaming with sunshine; but when Van Vurenapproached, this shadow moved and took upon itself a semblance ofhumanity, and with the dispelling of the illusion the Dutchman beheldthe evil face of Gaudriole.
"Adversity finds hard resting-places, my captain," said the dwarf, ashe crawled forth. "Your rock makes a bed rougher than a paving-stone,but methinks a safer. Here a rogue may snore in his sleep withoutbringing the king's men upon him. I have a message for you, mycaptain."
"Hast any tidings of my men?" asked the Dutchman eagerly.
The head of the dwarf was on a level with his elbow; his matted hairwas wet with mist. His habiliments, partly native, partly civilised,surrounded his crooked body in a ragged suit of motley; and a longknife was driven into his belt.
"He who answers must be paid," answered the hunchback, grinning.
"Perchance you have already been paid," said Van Vuren suspiciously.
"The honourable captain possesses the gift of Divination," sneeredGaudriole. "See you how low yonder warship sits in the water?" he wenton, pointing down at the _St. Wenceslas_, which had lately arrived atthat coast. "Is it true, as I have heard the settlers say, that she isloaded with gold from the shore of Labrador? 'Tis said that a man maythere see the precious metal shining at his feet, and has but to bendto gather sufficient for a knight's ransom."
"I pray you give me the message, good dwarf," said Van Vurenflatteringly.
"The cloak upon my captain's shoulders is of a truth a thing to bedesired," Gaudriole went on, fingering the rich stuff with his grimyfingers. "Were it upon my back, 'twould handsomely conceal some veryclumsy work of nature. 'Tis the cloth that makes the courtier." Heburst into a raucous laugh, as he danced the cold out of his limbs.
"His Excellency the commandant shall loosen that insolent tongue,"cried Van Vuren hotly.
Gaudriole snapped his fingers in the Dutchman's face as he retorted:"This is not the old world, my brave captain, and there is no restraintupon lying here. Gaudriole is now a citizen of the New World. TheCardinal himself is but a shadow here. Even a mountebank of the guttermay turn traitor in the wilderness. Gaudriole is a man this side o'the sea. Were we in Paris I might bow to kiss your garments, and callyou Holiness an you desired it. Here the jester is as good as thegeneral. Hunt me into yonder forest at your sword-end, bold captain,and bid me play the will o' the wisp. I should but disappear into athicket ahead, rise up at your back, and this knife and a moss-swampwould settle all your business. Doff your hat to a fool, captain, andgive him pipe and tobacco."
Van Vuren clenched his teeth. He would then have given even his cloakto effectually silence that biting tongue. But he was a stranger uponFrench territory, and he knew that the slender tie of alliance wouldnot stand a strain. He prudently choked down his anger, and satisfiedthe dwarf's more reasonable demand.
"Never was a better gift sent to man than this same tobacco," saidGaudriole. "See you, captain, how excellent are its qualities. Itshall manage the warrior beyond the arts of woman. No man shall usethe good smoke in anger, because at the first taste peace settles uponhis body and his soul desires to be alone. But 'tis a dangerous drugupon an empty stomach."
"The message," said Van Vuren impatiently.
"Yonder comes in a good burden of fish," resumed Gaudriole, gazing downindifferently to indicate a boat grating across the shingle. "I knowthe oaf, one Nichet, who at home had not the wit to make a living.Here he becomes a man with a name. This land is Paradise for those notwanted across sea. Nichet shall presently leave his boat, to findhimself a stone to anchor her, and then I shall pass that way and takeof his best fish for my breakfast. The knave profits by the fool'swork. Fare you well, brave captain."
"The message, villain," broke in Van Vuren.
"Ah! I grow forgetful. 'Tis said that the Abbe La Salle is to go fromhere to the land which the Scotch discovered and the valiant Frenchtook from them, to that country upon the gulf which we call Acadie. Ahappy quittance, say I. The abbe is too perilously apt with his longsword. Let them send the fat pig Laroche after him, and this fortressshall grow more peaceful than the streets of Versailles. Let there betrouble, you shall always find a fat priest at the root of it."
"Let La Salle descend into the bottomless pit," cried the Dutchmanviolently. "And Heaven be praised if he drags you down with him.Deliver me the message, hunchback."
"Now Nichet moves away to search for a fitting stone," went onGaudriole. "Had I a message for you, captain? Let me consider. Mymemory is weak of a morning." He struck out his long arm suddenly."Dost see that man signalling from yonder shore?"
Van Vuren turned quickly. "Where?" he exclaimed.
"This is the message," shouted Gaudriole, and as he spoke he rushedunder the Dutchman's arm, and shambled swiftly down the road. "To theman who has to live upon his wits the Dutchman is a gift from Heavenitself. Remember, my captain! The tobacco leaf is a brave cure forill humour."
Van Vuren hurled a curse after him, and turned to ascend. From thesummit of the heights he scanned the prospect, and quickly learnt whatGaudriole might have told him had he exercised greater forbearance.The expedition had at last returned. Almost as soon as Van Vurenlooked out he heard a welcome cry, and presently perceived a figure,clad in the distinctive dress of Holland, crossing the valley at arapid walk. With an exclamation of relief the captain hastened down,and met Dutoit, his lieutenant and the leader of the exploration party,upon the plain.
Hurriedly the survivors collated their gloomy experiences.
"Twenty-eight left of our seventy-five," muttered Van Vuren, when hehad heard Dutoit's report of two men lost and one dead of fever, "oursupplies and ammunition gone, our ship destroyed. We have nothing nowto hope for, except a safe passage home. Hast seen any Englishmen?"
"Yesterday we sighted a spy making south, and him we pursued until heescaped us in the bush," answered Dutoit.
"These men never recognise defeat," went on Van Vuren. "They shallspread upward from the south, flow into this land, and push the Frenchback from fort to fort. They have a wondrous knack of gratifying thesavages. Know you if any new expedition has come over?"
"We came upon a man mortally sick, who babbled as he died about a shipsupplied by the wool-staplers, which started from Bristol some ninemonths ago and was lost upon the reefs. This fellow had his fac
e setdue north, and believed that he was travelling towards Boston----"
"Who comes here?" cried Van Vuren, breaking in upon the other's storywith a note of fear.
They saw the tall, stern figure of Mary Iden descending towards them,armed as for the chase. She crossed the ridge and halted when shesighted the men. Her face was ghastly, and her eyes roved wildly overthe prospect. Presently she put out her hand, and the Dutchmen waitedwhen they saw her sign.
"Soldiers," cried a wild English voice, "have you seen the Frenchpriest known as La Salle pass into the fortress?"
Van Vuren, who had touched at most of the New World colonies in histime, knew the Anglo-Saxon well enough to answer; but he started, andsaid bitterly to his subordinate:
"The very savages speak English. Where is the Indian who has aknowledge of French in all this country, which the French rule? Didnot I say to you that it is as impossible to keep the men of KingCharles out of this land as it is to dam the ocean behind a bank ofsand?"
He turned to the Englishman's wife, and demanded further knowledge.
The woman struggled to return the answer which policy advised, butpassion overmastered her. Her eyes flashed wildly as she answered:
"Your race has ever been friendly with mine. 'Tis true you are foes ofthe English, but all nations hate England, even as the birds of theforest hate the eagle because of the strength of his flight. Soldiers,show me where I may find this priest. I have walked through the nightseeking him. But a few hours ago I was a mother. To-day my son givesno answer to my voice. He was a great hunter was my son, though but aboy, and he feared no man. This day we bury him where the watersshout. He was good to look upon, he was strong like the young bear.He had brave eyes. Soldiers, it is the priest who has slain my son."
The anguished woman had spoken thus aloud as she walked through thecathedral-like aisles of the forest, addressing the columnar pines, thefretted arch of foliage, the dim bush shrines; so she had called as herheart bled to the climbing tits, the ghostly moths, and the long greywolf as he slunk away.
"Who is the father of your son?" pressed the Dutchman.
Awaking to the consciousness that the question was not wholly dictatedby sympathy, Mary Iden drew herself erect, and, pointing over the headsof the men, indicated the impregnable heights whereon waved the flagazure a fleur-de-lys or, that emblem which dominated the land from theislands in the gulf to the country where the foot of white men hadnever trod.
"I have learnt the story of the wanderings of the children of England,"she said in a strained prophetic voice. "Of the journey of the manCabot, who passed into the places of wind, into the great sea of ice,and reached the land where the Indians dare not walk. Of the seamanFrobisher, who touched the iron coast and lived. These men passed outlike spirits into the unknown, and came back with their great story asmen restored from the dead. As the crow follows the eagle, to take ofthat which the strong bird leaves, so Frenchmen followed the greatadventurers of England. And now I see the French driven from theirfortress, from Tadousac and St. Croix. Those who dwell in Acadie shallbe driven out, and go as exiles into a strange country. I see soldierssweeping the great cliffs, freeing the valleys and plains. I see theFrench settled upon their farms, and their flag no longer shines in thesun, and the people bend themselves to the rule of an English Queen,whose name is Victory and whose reign is peace. Many moons shall comeand go, many suns shall heat the Father of Waters before these thingsshall be, and I shall not live to see that day." She pressed her handsto her aching eyes, and shivered as she swayed, and once more cried:"Soldiers, have you seen the priest who has slain my son?"
"A witch!" exclaimed Van Vuren hoarsely. "Let us escape before sheoverlooks us."
The superstitious Dutchmen hurried out to rejoin their men, who werecamping in the forest; while Mary Iden made her way across the plain,and so into the great red eye of the sun.