CHAPTER XIX
ON THE ISLE AUX COUDRES
Now that the beacon was fairly alight my purpose was accomplished,and I was free to return to the house; but the night was warm,there was no sound save the lapping of the rising tide, or theshort quick puff of some slowly turning porpoise from out thedarkness beyond, and I stood there for what I suppose was a longtime, held by the spell of the perfect quiet. At length I rousedmyself, and began to retrace my steps, but as I gained the line ofthe pine wood I turned aside and stood a moment for a last look atthe friendly beacon flaring up into the darkness. The loud crackleof the wood seemed like joyous cries of encouragement, and thestrong ruddy flame filled me with a fresh confidence. On the morrow,if Gabriel should appear, I would announce our departure for Quebec,and once there would place myself under the protection of M. deMontcalm until...
"Oh, Heaven!" I almost screamed, for I heard footsteps hurriedlyapproaching, and had only time to withdraw more completely intothe shadow of the trees when Luntook, the Indian, came running downthe path, and in an instant scattered the fire on all sides, hurlingthe blazing brands over the cliff and covering up the embers untilnot a spark remained.
When the fire was completely extinguished he looked about himslowly, while I cowered there in mortal terror, believing he wouldimmediately search for and certainly discover me; but, to mysurprise, he walked silently past my shelter and kept his way alongthe path.
I was simply paralysed with fear. I could not have screamed or madea move had my life depended on it; the very presence of the manstruck terror to my soul, for he seemed the personification of allthe possibility of evil in his master. He it was, I well knew, whowould carry out any violence which might be determined against me,and the fact of his remaining about the place when his master wassupposed to have left, filled me with alarm. I was persuaded Iwas to be carried off, perhaps on the morrow, and the priest'swarning came back to me with renewed insistence.
My burden of fear so grew upon me that I dared not remain withinthe shadow of the wood, for every sound in its depths shook me witha new terror, and every moment I imagined I could feel the Indianstealing nearer me in the darkness. I dared not look behind me, Idared hardly move forward, but my dread of the wood was greaterthan that of the open beach, and I somehow managed to clamber downthe cliff and took shelter behind a great bowlder, where I couldhear the soothing ripple of the water and feel the soft wind againstmy face. It brought a sense of being removed from the land and men;I was more alone, but I felt safer.
The chill of the night struck through me to the bone, and I wasburdened with its length; it seemed as if time were standing still.But at last I was roused by the hoarse call of birds passing highoverhead, and saw the sky was paling in the east. Slowly, slowlythe gray dawn came, trees began to detach themselves and stand outagainst the sky, rocks took a vague form against the sands, thewicker lines of the fishery grew distinct in the receding waters,while white wreaths of mist rose smoke-like from the Little River.
Slowly, slowly grew the glory in the east, and when at length thefirst beams of the sun struck strong and clear across the bay,making a shining pathway to my very feet, it seemed so actually aHeaven-sent way of escape that, trembling in every limb, I roseand staggered forward as if it were possible to tread it; and then,recovering my distracted senses, I fell to crying like a child.
The tears brought relief, and I began to bestir myself, to moveabout quickly, until I could feel my stiffened limbs again, andrecovered some sense of warmth. I did not dare to leave the opensecurity of the beach until the sun was higher, when I wanderedout to the extreme end of the sands, looking anxiously for someanswer to my signal from the Isle aux Coudres, but the oppositeshore, was hidden by a close bank of white cloud, broken only bythe rounded tops of the mountains above Les Eboulements. Presentlythe cloud began to lift and scatter, and I could make out the islandlying low and dun against the higher main-land. But no answeringsmoke broke the clear morning air; indeed, it seemed impossiblethat my signal, which had not burned for an hour at most, could beseen at such a distance. I turned away with an empty heart, whenI caught sight of a boat standing up close inshore, her sails filledwith the freshening morning breeze.
The mere presence of a means of escape changed everything in amoment. I was filled with a new courage, and climbing to the topof the outermost bowlder, I drew the long white scarf from my neckand waved it to and fro above my head. To my intense joy, I wasanswered by the boat hauling round, and lowering and raising thepoint of one of her sails--the same signal I had seen Gabriel maketo M. de Montcalm off Cap Tourmente. It was Gabriel himself! hissignal assured me of it; and at the sight the morning took on anew glory, for the terror and bitterness of the night had passedas I watched the boat as my deliverance hastening towards me.
As she came on, I made out Gabriel distinctly, and before long theboat was lying motionless, Gabriel had his shallop over the side,and a moment later was splashing through the shallow water, andbowing as though he had parted from me only yesterday.
"'Bon chien chasse de race,' madame. I was cruising about, as Ialways am, ready for the first ship which appears, when I saw thelight; and though it did not burn long enough for a signal, Ithought it well to look it up; and now, madame, I am at your orders,as I promised. I was sure you would want me some day."
"Oh, Gabriel, I do want you! I never stood in greater need. Takeme on board, and I will tell you."
He showed no surprise at my demand, but merely repeating hisfavourite proverb, "ce que femme vent, Dieu le veut," lifted me inhis arms like a child, and carried me through mud and water, andset me in his shallop, when a few strokes brought as alongside theboat, and I was in safety on her deck. Then the sails were oncemore set, and we stood away from the shore and up the river.
"He carried me through mud and water, and setme in his shallop."]
He did not question me, nor, indeed, would he allow me to speak,until he had provided a hot drink of some sweetened spirit, whichbrought back the glow to my blood, and then he set about preparingbreakfast, keeping up an incessant chatter the while, until he hadme laughing at his flow of talk.
"Aha! That is better!" he exclaimed, joyfully. "Now, madame, whatare your orders?"
"Can you take me to Quebec?"
"I can--but--" and his face lengthened.
"But what?"
"Well, madame, to be truthful, I am expecting the first ships everyday now; they are late as it is; and if I am off the ground, why,then the bread must drop into some one else's basket! That is all."
"I can pay you well for what you may lose in this way."
"It is not only the money, madame, 'l'argent est rond et ca roule,'but I have always brought up the first ship since I was twenty,and that was not last Sunday, as one may guess. Yet, if madame saysso, I am at her orders."
"I do not know what to say, Gabriel. I will not return to Beaulieu,and though I want to reach Quebec, I am unwilling you should missyour ship; but I certainly cannot remain on board here while youare with her."
"Bedame! I have a plan, if it will answer. We are at no distancefrom the Island, my good wife is alone, as usual, and, if I do notask too much, could you not put up with her for a week or two atmost until I pick up my ship, and then the trick is done? Our houseis clean, my wife is the best of managers, and will do everythingto make you comfortable."
"That will answer admirably, Gabriel."
"Good! Madame, I can also return to Beaulieu and fetch your womanand such things as you may desire."
For the first time I remembered Lucy, and was filled with remorseat the thought of my desertion of her. What could I do? To sendword back to Beaulieu now would be to betray my retreat; and whatexplanation could I offer to my kindly hosts?
Gabriel, with ready tact, saw my distress.
"Pardon, madame; I am not asking questions; I am not even thinkingthem. You shall come and go as you like with me and mine, and noone shall dare to do aught but obey you. If my plan does not suit,say so
freely, madame, and we will go on to Quebec without anotherthought, and the King's ship must wait, or go on with such bungleras she may find."
"No, no, Gabriel; I will not have it so. I can remain on the Islandfor a week as well as not, and, in fact, will do nothing else. Thatis settled. And, Gabriel, because you are a brave and loyal man Ishall trust you further--I do not wish any one to know where I amwhile on the Island, unless I can get word to le pere Jean."
"Oh, as for that, you are going to meet him; for he is due on theIsland even now. He always comes about this time to see what isleft of us after the winter."
"Then I am quite satisfied. Now tell me, have you any news fromLouisbourg?"
"Nothing, madame; no ship has come up yet; but it will not be longbefore we hear now."
"Then I shall expect to hear when you return for me."
"You will, madame; depend upon it, I will bring you news. And now,if I may offer a counsel, which I am sure is wise, I would say,madame, that you should lie down and try to sleep."
The advice was as welcome as it was wise, and it was not long ereI carried it out.
When I awoke, it was well on in the afternoon, and we were closeinshore.
"Yes, madame, it is the Island. There is my house--the one withthe flag-staff. See, my good woman has the signal flying for me.I can never come within reach without her scenting me out."
There was a fine pride in his words, and his house was worthy ofit. A clean, honest, white face it presented, framed in younghop-vines carefully trained up the low curving roof, and set in agarden which already gave promise of much bloom. His wife, a plump,comely woman, waited for us at the landing-place.
"Ma bonne amie!" said Gabriel, embracing her. "Madame de St. Justhas crossed with me from Beaulieu to await le pere Jean here, andwill stay with you until he comes."
"Your servant, madame," she answered, with a neat courtesy. "If mygood man had let me know you were coming, I would have been betterprepared."
"'Qui n'a, ne peut,' ma bonne femme. You will do your best, andmadame will not ask for more. Had she known of her coming herself,she would have travelled with her servant, as she is used; but shecomes alone, because she has great need, and I assured her youwould be proud to do all you can for her sake."
"So I will, madame; do not let my husband make you believe I amnot more than pleased to have you in my poor house. You do us toomuch honour in asking it. Come, madame, let me shew you the way."
The house lost nothing of its charm on a nearer approach, and itsinterior spake volumes for its keeper's cleanliness--not a commonquality in the country, as I discovered later. The furniture wasof the simplest description, but the well-scrubbed floor was coveredwith bright-coloured strips of home-made carpeting--"les catalogues,"as she called it--and in one corner stood the pride of the family,the great bed--a huge construction, covered with a marvellous quiltof patchwork, and hung with spotless valance and curtains.
Gabriel was to set off by the next tide, and left only after charginghis Amelia with numberless instructions as to my care and comfort.
"Oh, these men!" laughed the good-natured woman. "They think theworld can't turn round without their advice!"
I was too tired and too safe not to sleep well, and when the smilingface of Madame Dufour appeared at my bedside in the morning, itwas to inform me that le pere Jean's canoe was already in sight,and he would be at the Island in less than an hour.
Eager as I was to see him, I could not but dread the meeting andwhat he might say of my desertion, though I begged my hostess tomeet him and tell him I was awaiting his leisure.
"Oh, mon pere, I did not know what to do!" I cried, when we werealone.
"Thank God you are safe and in good hands," he returned, warmly."How was it you came to take this step?"
Thereupon I told him of my attempt to signal for Gabriel, of theappearance of Luntook, of my terror, and of my sudden resolve onthe pilot's appearance. "It was only when I felt myself safe, monpere, that I remembered what my action might mean to others; andnow I am miserable at the thought of the anxiety I have caused.What can be done?"
"I cannot blame you, my daughter; you have been brought face toface with dangers you know nothing of, in surroundings which arestrange to you; it is well for your own sake you should be removedfrom the constant dread of their recurrence. I guessed at yourdestination, for on landing the same morning you left, Andre andI saw the beacon had been lighted, and a very little looking aboutconvinced us of what had happened, for we not only found your scarf,but Gabriel's marks in the sand were plain directions."
"But, mon pere, what of them at the house?"
"It is a time of war, my daughter," he returned, smiling. "Morethan one person is moving about the country in a mysterious way;much greater freedom is allowed; and when I explained to Mme. deSarennes that you were in my care, and it was necessary you shouldbe absent for a time, she was satisfied with my word, and bade yourwoman make up a packet of necessaries for you, which Andre willbring presently. You cannot do better than remain where you areuntil I can arrange for your woman to meet you and go on to Quebectogether. I soon shall know what opportunity offers for a passageto France, which will be somewhat uncertain now, as the Englishwho wintered at Halifax are at sea again; but there is time enoughto decide; the whole summer is before us."
And all this without a word, without a look of reproach; how myheart went out to him for his forbearance!
At length I asked the question which was always with me: "Mon pere,is there any news?"
"From Louisbourg? Nothing that is hopeful. A more formidable fleetthan ever before has left England; we cannot expect any succourfrom France; and Louisbourg is probably invested by this time, ifthe enemy have made good their landing. Before another month thematter will be pushed to an issue, and it will be against us, unlessthe place can be relieved."
Where the expected relief was to come from I did not dare to ask,as I could not doubt but that M. de Sarennes was an important factorin the plan.
Le pere Jean had manifold duties to perform during his short stay;impatient couples were married, children were baptised, and manyan anxious heart relieved of the burthen which it had borne alonethrough the long imprisonment of the winter. He did not suffer meto remain idle either, for he gathered the children about him, andshowed me how to instruct them in the elements of our faith.
"Here is your work," he said, smiling. "You have your educationand sympathy on the one hand, and on the other are these littleblack and brown heads--Bergerons, Tremblays, Gauthiers, and soon--to be filled with some measure of the grace which God intendedfor each of them. It will be a comfort to me to think of them inyour hands while I am sent on my Master's business, often intopaths not of my own choosing. Do not on any account be tempted toleave here until I come or send for you. Even if M. de Sarennesshould appear, be under no apprehension, for all you need do is totell Mme. Dufour, and it will be a delight to her to balk hisplans, as there is no love lost between these Islanders and thepeople of the main-land."
"I will do my best, mon pere. When may I look for your return?"
"I cannot tell, perhaps in a month or so; but do not let thatdisturb you; for, even if I am prevented, I will surely send youword what to do. Seek your quiet in your daily task, and yourcomfort in prayer."
So he took his way, leaving me in such content as was possible.Had I dared I would have questioned him about the letter, but Icould not bring myself to acknowledge this humiliation, even tohim. I felt it so keenly, that I no longer wondered my tormentorhad felt himself free to make any proposal, when it was but to onewhom he believed to be the discarded wife of another, and I founda new misery in vain imaginings of what had been written to callforth so heartless a reply. I would comfort myself at one momentby thinking it was not intended for me, only to be met by thealternative of Hugh being married to another. Turn which way Imight, I could frame no explanation which brought any comfort. Ifthe letter were for me, then had no man ever betrayed love morecruelly; if for anot
her, then I had thrown away my life.
My work with the children was the greatest boon which could havebeen granted me; it kept me sane and healthy, and my heart wentout to the little ignorant souls so full of life and affection. Itwas no task; it was a welcome labour of love; and the children sawand felt it as such; on their side, their little feet were nevertoo weary nor their little hands too tired to respond to any serviceI might ask of them.
But despite their love and the unfailing kindness of Mme. Dufour,it was impossible to escape from my pain. My daily refuge was thealtar of the little church, where night and morn, often in companyof some other lonely woman anxious for the safety of son or husbandfar at sea, I laid bare my soul in an agony of supplication forthe safety of the one dear to me above all others; and I foundsupport, too, in the thought of the devoted priest pursuing hislonely way, consecrating his life and effort for others, most ofwhom made no return, for they knew not the greatness of his sacrifice.
The rumours that reached us during the next two months brought noassuagement to our fears, and when le pere Jean came, towards themiddle of August, men, women, and children gathered on the beachto welcome him. His white, worn face and wearied bearing told hismessage before he spake a word, and my heart failed me at the sight.
With his unfailing consideration, he turned to me the moment hesaw my distress. "Le Chevalier de Maxwell is safe; he escaped thenight the capitulation was signed," he whispered, and then turnedwith his news towards the anxious people.
Like one afar off I heard him tell of the long siege, of thehardships endured, the courage displayed, the surrender of theruined fortress, and the removal of the garrison to the ships ofwar; but in the selfishness of love my heart was too full ofgratitude to have understanding for aught else.
When the story was ended, and the eager questioners answered, heturned to me again, and, inviting me to follow, we took our waytowards the church.
"You are anxious to hear more," he said, gently. "Let me tell youall I know. M. de Maxwell left the town only after the capitulationwas reluctantly agreed to by M. de Drucour, who, with all hisofficers, had protested against it, and would willingly have heldout even beyond hope. He ran the gantlet of the batteries the wholelength of the harbour in safety; he was at Miramichi only two daysbefore I arrived there, and took command of some Canadians in chargeof a number of English prisoners to lead them to Quebec. So youmay comfort yourself with the thought of his safety, and that yourprayers have been answered."
"What will happen now, mon pere?"
"That is impossible to say; except that the English will certainlypush every advantage they have gained, and, unless substantial helpcomes from without, the outlook is desperate."
"Did no help come to Louisbourg, mon pere?"
"None," he answered; and the one word sank into my heart like aknell. He parted from me at the church door, and I wandered downto the beach alone.
The loss of Louisbourg, as even I could see, might mean the lossof Canada, and, in the priest's eyes at least, its loss was duenot so much to the weakness of the garrison as to the failure ofthe relief, and this relief could have come only by the man whohad withstood his commands, holding out a shameful condition asthe price of his obedience. Whether le pere Jean was right or wrongI could not judge, but I surely knew he could but lay the sourceof this dishonour to the wilful act of the woman he had rescuedand befriended in her hour of need.
The news of the gallant defence of Carillon went far to offset thedisaster of Louisbourg, but not to allay our anxiety, and Septemberwas a trying month for us all; but Gabriel visited us twice, andwas unshaken in his confidence.
"Time enough to cry out when we are beaten, madame. We have heldthem back at Carillon, and will do so again, if need be; they havebeen beaten in the Upper Country before this, and they will beclever indeed if they can come up the river."
"They did so once before, Gabriel."
"'Une fois n'est pas coutume,' madame; pilots cannot be picked uplike pease."
I expected word from le pere Jean every day, and awaited it withconflicting feelings. I was most anxious to know the truth aboutHugh, and yet to meet him was past my desire, if he were reallymarried. Should that prove the case, then I would use my utmosteffort to return to France without his knowing I had ever been inthe country. Should he discover it, then I must bear the humiliationas best I might; but I could not bring myself to go away, andperhaps wreck my future as well as his, through a misunderstanding.I felt I had gone too far, had suffered too much, to throw it allaway when the truth was within my reach.
In the beginning of October Gabriel came with the expected letterfrom le pere Jean. Mme. de Sarennes and Angelique had gone on toQuebec to spend the winter there, and I was expected to join themwhenever it might be convenient. I took affectionate farewells ofmy good friend, Mme. Dufour, and the infant population of theparish, and set forth with Gabriel. We made a grand run of it, andwere in full view of the town before the sun had quite set. I hadseen no place, except perhaps Edinburgh, with which I could compareit, and Quebec gained in the comparison. Gabriel saw my admiration,and was delighted.
"Look at it well, madame; it is the gate of the finest country lebon Dieu ever created, and we hold the key! No man need have afaint heart when he can look on Quebec. See the little fort thereon the top of the Cape! It was made to signal a King's ships only.See the Chateau where it stands! It looks like the Governor himself.See the steeples of the Cathedral, of the Jesuits, of the Recollets!See the convents and the hospitals! It is like the Holy City ofGod! And then talk, if one can, of it falling into the hands of'les goddams' and 'les Bostonnais.' Bah! It is impossible! If not,what is the use of going to church on Sunday?"
Truly he had every excuse for his pride; and when I looked on themajestic river, barred by the mighty cliff with its glitteringcrown of roofs and spires overlooking the beautiful sweep of theSt. Charles, I felt that his outburst was more of a declarationthan a boast.
I disembarked with a light heart, and, guided by Gabriel, climbedthe steep ascent to the Haute Ville, at the head of which stoodthe Sarennes house, there to receive a welcome from Mme. de Sarennesand Angelique, for which none but a daughter and a sister mightlook.