The False Chevalier

  CHAPTER IV

  THE CASTLE OF QUIET WATERS

  Having added to his toilet the special elegance of powdering his hair,arrayed himself in his finest flowered waistcoat, and criticallydisposed his laces, Germain took seat in de Bailleul's coach and wasdriven away.

  As the horses flew along another new feeling came to him. Thedistinction of a familiar visit with a real "great lord" elated him as_debutantes_ are elated by their first ball. He was no snob, only a verynatural young man entering life. He dreamt that he was transferred fromthe ignoble class to the noble, and in the fancy felt himself lifted tosome inconceivable level above the people who passed by. Half a dozenpeasants, bronzed and sweaty and trudging in a group, meeting him, tookoff their hats. One of them said in his hearing: "Baptiste, there is oneof the white-wigs."

  The carriage rolled through the forest, then out into the open country,and shortly after turned under a stately gate of gilded ironwork, andthe grounds of Eaux Tranquilles were entered. The chateau was a mansionof smooth, light sandstone, having four towers at the corners. Aturreted side-wing, bridging over water, united it with a more ancientcastle which stood, walled in white and capped in black, in the midst ofa small lake. In front were gardens; in rear a terrace, and below it alawn bordered on one side by the lake, on the opposite shore of which apark of poplars, birches, and elms extended, producing, by shading thewater, a serenity which doubtless had given the estate its name.

  The last light of afternoon, that most beautiful of all lights, fellupon the towers, and long shadows swept across the gardens.

  Lecour thought it glorious.

  In a few moments he and his host were seated at tea. The loftywindow-doors stood open to let in the June zephyrs. With the two wiggedand liveried servants attending, the scene to Lecour seemed the actingof a beautiful charade, the introduction to an unreal existence.

  De Bailleul noted the delicacy of his hand and the tastefulness of hisviolet-tinted coat.

  "Let us talk of Canada," said he. "I have no friends yet to offer you,though you shall have some young dogs like yourself very soon. What doyou like?--riding, hunting, a quiet minuet on the terrace, eh? Ah me,the coquettes of Quebec! I well remember them."

  Germain expressed gratitude for the amusements offered.

  "I will tell you why I love Canada," continued the Chevalier. "It wasthere that I passed my military youth. Have you ever eaten Indianbean-cake?"

  "I have tasted it."

  "And that was enough, eh? But I have lived on it for eight weeks in anIroquois village. Yes, eight weeks bean-cake was the most horrible of myexperiences, except when I saw the hand of an unfortunate Potawatomieturn up in an Abenaki broth-pot. Do you remember General Montcalm?"

  "I was not born in his time."

  "I saw him die, and heard him refuse to let the women of Quebec weepfor him. Montcalm, sir, was the last hero of France. They glorifyLafayette, but between ourselves Lafayette is more the drum-major thanthe general."

  "The lost children of France do not forget the defender of Quebec."

  "But who now passes from there to here? The _noblesse_ of the colonysank embracing each other on the luckless ship _Auguste_ in which theyfled to France. Alas, my friends so brave and so lovely! Ah, Varennesand La Verandrye, and you my poor Lady de Meziere! Senneville also, mydearest friend," he murmured, speaking to the spirits. "La Corne aloneescaped. Pardon me, Monsieur. Who is now Seigneur of Berthier?"

  "Captain Cuthbert."

  "In place of the Courthillaux! And of Repentigny?"

  "General Christie."

  "In place of Le Gardeurs! And of Longueuil?"

  "Captain Grant."

  "In the stead of the Le Moynes!"

  "He married one of them and calls himself Baron de Longueuil."

  "An Englishman Baron of Longueuil! Shades of Le Moyne d'Iberville! Andwhat of La Corne, who used to put on warpaint and dance around thecouncil fires waving a tomahawk against the English?"

  "Good old Colonel La Corne! He is now a loyal subject of the king ofGreat Britain, and very distinguished in the late American war."

  "My God, what impossibilities within thirty years!"

  Lecour, finding that the Chevalier was eager for a general account ofall Canadian beaux and dames, did his best to respond. De Bailleul's cupran over.

  "Do you know," he exclaimed, "I have never met any people like theCanadians. When Montcalm was general, I commanded a certain detachmenttowards Lake Champlain. Through how many leagues of forest, over howmany cedar swamps and rocky hills, across how many icy torrents did mybronzed woodmen not toil! We made beds from boughs of spruce, our wallswere the forest, our roofs were the skies. Many a day we fasted thetwenty-four hours. More than once we ate our mocassins. 'Twas all forFrance. Ah, if our young men at Versailles had that to do, they wouldhave to be different persons. I have no respect for these warriors ofhair-powder and lace, who wear stays and learn to march from thedancing-master. Give me a people bred in the lap of wild nature andamong whom the paths to reputation are courage and intelligence! Giveme----"

  Lecour saw that the Canada of the good man was an idealised picture, buthe admired his affection and asked permission to drink his health. Theytouched glasses.

  "Tell me about your own people, my young friend. Who is your father?"

  "A country merchant, sir."

  "A well-to-do one, then, I judge."

  "He has prospered so well as to be reputed rich for a colony."

  "And you live at St. Elphege? In my time it was only a carrying-placefor canoes, to avoid the rapid."

  "My father is the founder of the little place. He is known throughoutour Province as 'The Merchant of St. Elphege.'"

  "An honourable title, based on an honourable record no doubt. Would thatwe rightly respected trade in France. That is one of the nation'sweaknesses. You have a mother and brothers?"

  "A mother and two sisters--one married, the other at a convent inQuebec. My brother-in-law assists my father. We are very humble people."

  "Why have you come to France?"

  "Because I have admired it since a child, from my mother's stories ather knee."

  "She came from France, then?"

  "No, sir, but she was housekeeper in the house of Governor the Marquisde Beauharnois."

  When he said this the youth blushed.

  "How is it your accent is so good? It is quite that of our gentry."

  "I learnt it at the Little Seminary, from the priests, who are gentlemenof Paris. There also the best families send their boys, and we young mengrew up together. I have lived a little in Montreal too."

  "Ah, what is Montreal now like? Are the town walls still standing?"

  "They surround the city, but the commander-in-chief talks of replacingthem by avenues and a Champ de Mars."

  "The British garrison of course occupies the Arsenal, the British flagflies from the Citadel. Where does the British Governor reside?"

  "At the Chateau de Ramezay."

  "But why not at the Chateau de Vaudreuil, where Governor de Vaudreuildwelt? It was larger and its gardens finer."

  "That now belongs to Monsieur de Lotbiniere."

  "De Lotbiniere! the new Marquis! Lucky devil; but blue death, whatchanges!"

  They rose and strayed into the gardens.

  "I seem to find in you already," said the warm-hearted old Chevalier,"one whom I love. There is something frank in your eyes which raisesmemories of my dead son. In you I see both my offspring's and my ownyouth recalled to me. You are Canadian--in you I can banish thecoldness, hollowness, and degeneracy of Europe. Replace my boy. Let mecall you 'Germain' and 'son.'"

  The bar of evening glow was fading in the west and twilight falling onthe walks. A chill breeze seemed to inspire a question, which Germainbegan.

  "But----?"

  "There is some hindrance then?" exclaimed the Chevalier in adisappointed voice.

  "Alas, does your honour, perhaps, forget the differences of birth?"

  "Differences of b
irth, my Germain, are illusions; you have the reality."

  "Would that I had the illusion," thought poor Lecour.