CHAPTER XI
"A FRIEND AT ONE'S BACK IS A SAFE BRIDGE"
One after another our positions were abandoned or driven in, untilthe plan of defence by our outlying works entirely failed, and wewere forced to fall back on the sorry defences of the town itself.
Our ships did little or no effective service, and though we succeededin closing the mouth of the harbour and were comparatively safe onthat side, the English crept closer and closer, until they hemmedus in between their ever-contracting lines and the sea.
On the evening of the 8th of July the colonel of the regiment ofBourgogne called for volunteers, and leaving the town by night,six hundred strong, we hurled ourselves upon the enemy's southernline, only to be driven back with heavy enough losses on each side,and at daybreak to see the English General, Wolfe, in a more advancedposition.
Among the prisoners we carried in with us was a young officer ofthe 78th, a Highland regiment.
My services as interpreter were not required, as he spake Frenchperfectly, so it was not until after his interview with M. deDrucour that I met him in company with my colonel.
"Chevalier, a countryman of your own, an unwilling guest on ourpoor hospitality. Captain Nairn, the Chevalier de Kirkconnel."
We bowed, but I supplemented the courtesy by extending my hand,for I was in no doubt for a moment as to his identity, his likenessto his sister Margaret being remarkable.
"Captain Nairn is well known to me," I said, laughing. "I couldeven name him more intimately."
"Indeed, and what might that be?" he returned, on his guard.
"Archie."
"God bless my soul! Who are you, sir? I haven't heard that namefor ten years!" he exclaimed, in the greatest surprise.
"I can go even further. I can name a certain mission which endedin Fort William."
"Sir," he answered, with grave dignity, "I dislike mystifications.Who told you these things?"
"One Maxwell."
"Have a care, sir; you are naming one to whom I am under deepobligation."
"I am naming one, Captain Nairn, who will be as pleased to be ofservice to you now as then."
At this his face fairly flamed with pleasure, and he caught my handin both his.
"Chevalier, I know you now. Maxwell of Kirkconnel! There is noman I would rather meet in this world than yourself."
"Chevalier, I know you now".]
"I cannot make out a word of your jargon," broke in M. de St.Julhien, "but you seem to understand each other. Barbarians, va!You are best left in charge of each other. You are on parole,remember, Captain Nairn--and you are on your honour as host,remember, Chevalier. Do not disgrace our reputation for hospitality.If your cellar be low, I have a bottle or two uncracked," he cried,as he bowed and walked off, and we took our way to my quarters.
My heart was bursting for news of my dear Margaret, but these werethe last tidings I could ask of a brother whose sister had casthim off. In ordinary courtesy I had to abandon my personalgratification and feign a lively interest in his adventures.
These, however, I have no intention of inflicting upon my reader.I have refrained from telling much of interest in connection withmyself through a reticence which is, perhaps, blamable; and CaptainNairn, although relating a tale which bore every impress of truth,was bald in his manner, lacking that lively sensibility which isthe charm of all cultivated narration, and, being unable to viewany occurrence save from a personal stand, was utterly lacking inany sense of humour.
At length I felt I was justified in asking for tidings of her, whofor me, stood first among all women.
"You are aware, Captain Nairn, that when with my cousin Lady JaneDrummond in London and Paris I saw much of your sister Margaret.I know of the unhappy resolution she took, on hearing of youracceptance of service under King George, but may I hope that it isdissipated ere now, and that you can give me news of her, for thesehostilities have prevented all correspondence for near a year past?"
"No," he answered, gravely; "my poor sister has never broughtherself to forgive me, and I have never had word from her directsince I informed her of my resolve. I heard before sailing thatLady Jane had died early last year, leaving her well provided, andI should not be surprised to learn that she had taken the veil, asthere was some disappointment in connection with the Vicomte deTrincardel, whom, I believe, she was to have married."
And with this I had to be content, for Nairn was not a man of manywords, and in any event his acquaintance with his sister, whom hehad not seen since a child, was slight compared with mine.
Meantime the besieging line crept closer and closer about us.Building after building went crashing down, or was swept heavenwardin a tower of flame; our weakened ramparts crumbled day and nightbefore the never-ceasing storm of shot and shell breaking on them,and the very earth trembled under the incessant thunder of thebombardment.
Our one hope lay in the appearance of Sarennes, who had been orderedto our relief with a sufficient force of Canadians and Indians.Not that the latter are by any means the formidable foe generallyimagined, but the terror of their name was great in European ears,and any diversion on the part of so dreaded an ally would give usinstant relief. This was the hope that supported us; our gallantfellows stood by their guns on their crumbling ramparts, and asthey fell beside them more than one man said: "Our turn next. Waittill they see the savages!"
"Courage, my children! We only need Sarennes to show himself,"Drucour repeated, as an incentive when he marked our fire slacken.
"There is another signal for M. de Sarennes!" cried his intrepidlady, undauntedly, as she daily fired her three cannon with herown brave hands, and day by day men and officers uncovered andcheered her as she passed.
Within the crowded casemates by the King's Bastion, the only placeof safety now left, terrified women and children wept and prayed,and wounded men cried and raved for the delayed succour; every timethe enemy's fire slackened for an instant--it was Sarennes who hadattacked them in rear; every time the thunder redoubled in thevaulted chambers--it was our support of Sarennes's attempt; but asday after day came and went without relief, the weeping, prayers,crying, and ravings were hushed into a dull despair, and on theramparts and in the casemates men cursed at the very mention ofthat name which had so long been their sole support.
One night in the middle of July, Nairn, in discussing the probablelength of our resistance, said to me:
"Chevalier, What will you do when this is at an end?"
Although it was a question which had been perplexing me constantly,I answered, carelessly enough, "If this bombardment keep up, thechances are that I shall not be called upon to settle so importanta point."
"Chances enough," he responded, gravely; "it is never the numberof men who fall, but the number who escape, at which I am astonished.But that is not the point. I have been thinking much, and am muchtroubled about your future."
"So am I, for that matter, though I have never found that I haveadvanced it a hair's-breadth by losing a night's sleep over it.No, no, Captain Nairn, the best thing that can happen to me is todo the grande culbute."
"Chevalier, I am not only under heavy personal obligation towardsyou, but the memory of your friendship for me and mine ties mecloser to you than you know. I stand high in the esteem of mygeneral, who in turn can command attention to any request. You haveapproved of my own conduct in accepting service; let me open theway for you to the same honourable career. You have abundantly paidyour debt to France; give your arm to your own people. Surely therecome times when you dream of 'home.'"
"Captain Nairn," I answered, "believe me, I can pay you no highercompliment than in saying I receive your words without offence. Iam sensible, deeply sensible of the kindness, may I say the affection,which prompts your offer; but 'my people' are wanderers on the faceof the earth; my lot is that of the soldier of fortune. 'Home,'Nairn! Though I have never set my foot on my own soil save as anoutlaw and a rebel, my heart at times grows faint for it, and theturn of an old song sets my brain aching a
nd my eyes longing, butmy only inheritance has been the loyalty which has robbed me of itall. That I am on the losing side is my misfortune; that I haveinspired your respect and affection is my reward. I thank you fromthe bottom of my heart, but do not mention the subject again ifyou love me."
One personal gratification the siege brought to me was the renewalof my intercourse with the fair Madame Prevost. Now that I had hertruculent husband under my thumb, for I held exposure over him likethe sword of Damocles, I was free to see as much of her as I chose.
People eat and sleep, breathe and hope, though danger may lie downwith them by night and draw their curtains with the day; at suchtimes the most marked difference is that life goes with a fasterfoot, so that my intimacy with my charming rescuer grew at a pacealtogether disproportionate to the hours.
On the evening of the 24th of July, when capitulation was unavoidable,when our fire was so weak that it was more like funeral guns thana defence, and our one anxiety was to obtain honourable terms,Madame Prevost came to me in a sad state of distraction.
"Chevalier," she said, "it is hopeless! No matter what the commandantmay resolve, we are betrayed. Prevost will force them to acceptany terms, no matter how great the humiliation. It is nothing tohim so long as he escapes; but it is death to me. I have beendespised all these years on account of my connection with him; Ihave suffered tortures of shame daily through the siege, and nowall will be crowned with this height of infamy. I cannot bear it!I cannot look upon it!" And the poor distracted creature fell tosobbing and weeping as if her very heart would break.
When she had recovered somewhat she revealed her design, which wasthat, should Prevost succeed in forcing the commandant to thedisgraceful surrender we all feared, she and I would escape together.
I was much moved by her generous offer, for generous it was beyonda doubt. I have known too much of women not to recognise when fullcredit should be given to their virtues, and if Madame Prevost hada second thought beyond escaping from the disgrace of thecapitulation, then I know nothing of the sex.
"My dearest madame," I answered, warmly, "'tis quite out of thequestion."
"Why? I have seen old Gourdeau, the pilot; his two sons have a boatat my service. They know every hole and corner of the harbour, andwill do anything for me."
"The boat is not the question, my dear madame; it is yourself I amthinking of."
"Well, I am ready. I will have everything in readiness, if thecapitulation be not signed by nightfall, it will be by the morning,and the moment it is determined on, you are free. We can easilypass out by the wicket near the Brouillon Bastion, and the Gourdeauwill be at their post. I have thought of everything."
"Pardon me, madame; you have thought of everything save yourself.Have you thought of what the world will say to your flight withme? It will only credit you with motives of which I know you havenever dreamed."
"Oh, mon Dieu, monsieur I this is cruel of you!" she cried, muchdistressed. "I was thinking as much of you as of myself."
"You were, I am sure, thinking more of me than of yourself, andfor this I speak plainly, madame. I am overcome with your generosity,but my appreciation of it is too high to allow you, an honourablewoman, to wreck your good name for my sake. I cannot go among theEnglish, where you might be unrecognised, but where I am still aproscribed rebel; you cannot go among your own people to Quebec,where you would but suffer a martyrdom for your courage and sacrifice.No, no, my dear madame, believe me, it is not to be thought of!"
Here she began to cry again, somewhat to my relief, for I saw thather resolution was giving way.
"Oh, mon ami! I have been nothing but a silly fool of a woman allmy life! Since my husband married me out of a convent, no man hasspoken to me but to flatter, or to make love, until you came. Youare the only one who has treated me as an equal, and because ofthis, I would do anything for you. I care nothing for what theworld says!"
"Probably not, madame, because you have no idea what extremelycruel things it can say," I returned, for enthusiasm is a badbeginning for argument. "But suppose I were willing. I have onlymy sword to depend upon, and you know how much that is worthnowadays! If I turned it into a spit, I could not even provide acapon to roast upon it. But long before we came to that pass wewould infallibly be captured or starved, for a woman cannot put upwith the hardships of such a venture. I had some months of it inScotland after the Forty-five, and I know what it means. To lodgea la belle etoile, and to dine with Duke Humphrey, as we Englishput it, may be the highest romance, but I assure you the quartersare draughty in the one, and the table bare with the other."
As I spake her face brightened, and by the time I made an end shetook both my hands and said, determinedly: "Then, mon ami, youshall go alone. I will have everything in readiness, and I do itfor you with all my heart--the more so that your refusal makes itbetter worth the doing," she added, with an attempt at a laugh,and then turned and ran off, that she might not discover her feelingsfurther.
It was a surprising outcome, and much as I regretted the seeminglyungracious part I was forced to play, I could not but rejoice atthe opportunity offered of escaping from English hands, particularlythose of such regiments as Lee's, Lascelles's, or Warburton's, myold opponents in Scotland. There was no difficulty in carrying outthe simple plan, for, in providing the boat and the men, MadamePrevost had overcome the one obstacle. Hostilities would besuspended, vigilance would be relaxed, and if the capitulation werenot signed before nightfall, it would be an easy matter to gainthe harbour, and under cover of the night to pass the enemy'sbatteries and make some unguarded point on the coast beyond theirlines before day.
It fell out much as we had anticipated. M. de Drucour demanded thesame terms as those extended to the English at Port Mahon, inMinorca. These were refused, and he resolved, with our unanimousconsent, to abide by the assault. But Prevost was at work, and soartfully did he play on our commandant that by eleven o'clock thesame night, July 25, 1758, the terms of the harsh capitulation wereaccepted.
At midnight, the capitulation being signed, I passed out by theBrouillon Bastion, found the men with their shallop in readiness,and, stepping in, said, in answer to their query:
"All the papers are signed; the English enter in the morning."
"'Dieu seul devine les sots,'" quoted old Gourdeau, sadly. "Shoveoff!"
Part II
MARGARET'S STORY
_"Le coeur mene ou il va."_ -- Old Proverb.