CHAPTER XXII
I AM TORTURED BY MYSELF AND OTHERS
In some manner I controlled myself, and in the confusion whichfollowed Lucy's wild cry I opened the door beside me and steppednoiselessly into the adjoining room.
I sank down into a chair, benumbed in body and bewildered in mind.Everything was in a whirl of confusion, and through it I heard theheart-breaking cry that was no hallucination of madness, no fancyof a disordered mind, but an arraignment straight from the heartof a woman who perhaps had suffered beyond what I was sufferingnow.
What was happening behind those closed doors? Once the mad impulseflashed across me to enter and learn the worst, but I shrank appalledat the thought of exposing myself to further humiliation. In myseeking for some escape, I even questioned if I had heard aright;it seemed impossible that there should not be some explanation,that there was not some horrible mistake, and a fierce anger sweptover me at the injustice of it all.
Had I wasted the love of my youth--the love of my life--on a manwhom I had endowed with every noble quality of which I could conceiveto find that he was only of the same common clay as others whoseadvances I had ignored because I had set him so high?
In my anger I put him beneath all others, because, as a silly girl,I had been blinded by my own delusions, and, as a foolish woman,I had gone on dreaming the dreams of a girl. The thought, too, ofLucy having been so close to me all these months, and of how nearlyI had confided in her, stung me like a blow.
And this was the end! I had wasted every affection of my nature inblind worship of the idol which now lay shattered at the firstblow. I had wandered with reckless feet far from the path in whichall prudent women tread, to find myself in a wilderness alone andwithout a refuge. My secret was in the keeping of Sarennes, whowould sooner or later betray it, when he thought by so doing hecould bend me to his will.
Why had I never looked at this with the same eyes, the same brainI had used in other matters? In other matters I had conducted myselfas a reasonable woman should; but in this, the weightiest affairin my life, had I wandered, without sane thought, without any guidesave impulses so unreasoning that they could scarce have even swayedmy judgment in other things.
Then, my anger having passed, I saw the whole incredible folly ofmy life, and alone and in bitter misery I trod the Valley ofHumiliation, until with wearied soul and softened heart I kneltand prayed for deliverance.
When I returned to the house the effort to meet and talk with othersdid much to restore me to myself. Angelique, I could see, wasgreatly excited, and it was a pain to think that what to me was abitter degradation and the wreck of all my hopes could possibly belooked upon by a young and innocent girl as a piece of curioussurmisal, perhaps to be laughed over and speculated upon, withouta thought of the misery it entailed.
In my room that night I reasoned out my whole position calmly fromthe beginning, and with a chilling fear I saw myself confronted bya new humiliation.
Had I not in my infatuation misconstrued every little kindness onthe part of Hugh, every expression of sympathy and of ordinarycourtesy, nay, every smile, and look, and word, into a languagewhich existed only in my credulous imagination? Had he ever spokena single word of love to me? Had he not even refused to answer mygirlish appeal to him at our parting? Was it, then, possible thatI was not only in a false position now, but that I had throughoutbeen playing that most contemptible of all roles--the infatuatedwoman who imagines herself beloved by one indifferent to her? Iwas overwhelmed with shame at the thought, still, turn it as Imight, I could not see that it admitted of any other conclusion.
Yet ignominious as it all was, it must be faced, for it was impossiblethat I should go on lamenting or living in the misery of constantself-reproach. If I had had the courage to defy the world in myQuixote endeavour to right the supposed wrongs of another, shouldI not put forth some measure of the same courage to protect myself?Because I had met with a disaster humbling to my self-respect andpride, surely I was not forced to proclaim my own defeat to theworld, and thus add ridicule to humiliation. Cost what it might,I determined to put forth every endeavour to prevent Hugh evensuspecting the true motive of my presence in Canada until the timeshould come when I might return in safety.
It cost me an effort to return to Lucy. I had almost a dislike tosee her again, but my pride came to my support, and, when I went,I saw I had exaggerated the difficulty, for I found a differentcreature awaiting me. Whatever suffering I had gone through, itwas clear this poor soul had gained some great relief, and myselfishness was not proof against her content. She had forgottenthat I had been beside her when Hugh had entered. The greatnessof his revelation, whatever it had been, had swept away all smallerthings, and she lay there with a new light in her face, but asquiet and self-contained as before. Had she spoken, I could nothave borne it.
My courage in respect to Hugh was not immediately put to the proof,as he had been ordered off to Montreal, there to join M. de Levisas aide-de-camp, and I had both time and freedom for decision.
Much to Angelique's delight, I now accompanied her to all the ballsand junketings that went on, for I had nothing further to fear,and, alas, nothing to hope. M. de Montcalm and the others receivedme with warm welcome, and made a small ovation over my appearance.
I suffered, however, as is often the case with a newcomer in asmall society, from the stupid jealousy of some of the women, whoresented my appearance as an intruder, and who more than oncestarted reports as to my position, which were rendered the morepersistent on account of the open championship of M. de Montcalm.
At first I thought little of this petty annoyance, but was notprepared for the length to which some were willing to carry it.
Late one afternoon Angelique burst in upon me in a storm ofindignation:
"Marguerite, I am ashamed of my countrywomen! There has been ascene this afternoon at Mme. de Beaubassin's which went beyond alllimits of decency. Neither your position as a stranger nor mine asyour friend was respected. It is horrible what animals women canbe when once they begin! Let me tell you what has happened, andsee if I am wrong!
"Mme. de Beaubassin, who cannot bear that any one should have anyattraction for the Marquis save herself, made some malicious remarkabout you before M. Poulariez.
"'O, de grace! madame,' he exclaimed; 'surely you are going toofar!'
"'Can you answer for her, then, monsieur?' she returned, wickedly.'Perhaps you can tell me who la belle Ecossaise really is?
"'I will answer for her,' broke in the little Joannes, whom I love,because he is so dreadfully in earnest over everything--'I willanswer for her! I lost four hundred good crowns at pharaon lastnight, but I will wager four hundred more with any lady in theroom, or I will cross swords with any gentleman in Quebec, for thefair fame of Mme. de St. Just at any moment. I know that she isintimate with one of the oldest friends of M. de Montcalm, that heknows her family, and I know that she is one of the most charmingcreatures I ever set eyes on!' Marguerite, I could have kissed him,he was so gallant!
"'Then, M. Joannes, since you are so fully informed, perhaps youwill explain the whereabouts of Monsieur de St. Just! Perhaps youwill tell us why the lady was so anxious to get into Louisbourgbefore the siege! Perhaps you know why she went to the ball onTwelfth-Night in disguise! Perhaps it is clear to you why, afterrefusing to meet any of us, she now goes everywhere, and seeks theconfidence of M. de Montcalm and other high officers when the plansfor the coming campaign are under discussion! That she is aScotchwoman she states, but I have not remarked that she is intimatewith her countryman, M. de Maxwell, of whose loyalty no one hasany doubt.'
"'Neither have I any doubt that Mme. de St. Just has her own reasonsfor choosing her acquaintance, madame,' answered M. Joannes, withthe same spirit. 'But I do not see that anything is to be gainedby continuing this conversation; the main thing is that I know Mme.de St. Just to be a lady of both family and position.'
"'Do you happen to know that her brother is a captain in the Englisharmy?'
/> "'I have known it for mouths past, madame. What of it'
"'And that he was a prisoner in Louisbourg?'
"'Certainly; no secret has been made of it,' he answered, as coolas a boy at his catechism.
"She seemed much put but at this rebuff, but turned towards theothers and went on, angrily:
"'Of course a woman has no right to an opinion in the face of suchan authority as M. Joannes, but I am sure so patriotic a brotherwill be interested in such a sister's letters, and that the authenticnews she may send from Quebec cannot fail to be of interest to hissuperiors. It may be the part of an affectionate sister, ambitiousfor her brother's advancement, but hardly that of a friend to beencouraged by us. There! That is what I believe; and if you othersare too blind to see behind a pretty face and a disconsolate manner,so much the worse for us all.'
"Marguerite, my dear, there wasn't a man in the room who didn'tprotest against her ungenerous suspicions. I was proud of themall! But none of the women said a word, and the spiteful littlecreature stuck to her ground, vowing she would speak to the Marquis,so that he, at least, should not be unwarned.
"I waited until she was done, for I was determined to hear the end,and then I said:
"'Mme. de Beaubassin, I have not spoken because I am only a girl,and neither my mother's hospitality, nor my mother's guest, requiresany defence from me; I trust both implicitly. Our thanks and thoseof Mme. de St. Just, our friend, are due to every gentleman inthe room. I was under some obligation to you, madame, for yourattentions to me in the past, but you have more than cancelled themnow, and I will not enter your door again until you have apologisedto us all.'
"'My dear child,' she said, with her hateful smile, 'you are young,but time will correct that, as well as your breeding and yourjudgment; until then I shall miss your society, but will pray foryour enlightenment.'
"Did you ever hear anything so abominable! M. Poulariez gave mehis hand, and the dear little Joannes followed us to the door,whispering:
"'Brava! Brava, mademoiselle! It was excellent! You could not havesaid better!'
"Now what will you do, Marguerite?"
"There is nothing to do, cherie; such things must die of themselves."
"But she said you were a spy, in so many words."
"You do not think so?"
"Oh, Marguerite!" she cried, as she jumped up and strained me toher, covering me with kisses.
"Well, neither does your mother, nor M. de Montcalm, nor any ofthe gentlemen who defended me this afternoon. My only regret isthat I should be the cause of annoyance to such friends."
Though I spake bravely enough, I could not but feel the effect ofsuch a report, nor fail to recognise there was oftentimes a gallingrestraint on my appearance, which was only aggravated by the tooevident efforts of my champions towards its dissipation.
But all such social jealousies and plottings were scattered by theapproach of spring, when an unending activity pervaded all classesthroughout the colony. The arrival of the first ships was lookedfor with anxiety, as they would bring the message of peace, orrenewed hostilities, which to me meant either escape or a continuanceof my difficulties.
It was M. Joannes who brought me the news:
"Well, madame, it seems it is to be war! But instead of money, theyhave sent us some scanty provisions; and instead of a regiment,some raw recruits to drag out this weary farce, already too long."
"I am sorry you do not look at it more hopefully, monsieur."
"How can I? Think what has happened since last spring. Louisbourg,Frontenac, Duquesne, all lost; famine in our towns; misery in thecountry; an insane jealousy on the part of the officials whichthwarts every move we suggest; corruption to an extent that isalmost beyond belief, and on every side of us an active, strong,and enthusiastic enemy. That is the only quarter where we look forfair play!" he ended, with the laugh of a boy who sees his sportbefore him.
It was impossible that I should plan for return before we saw whatmove the English might make by sea, so I abandoned all thought ofit, and settled down to await the outcome.
At the beginning of June volunteers gathered from the upper parishes,and with the militia and troops from Montreal, crossed over theSt. Charles to take their places in the camp where M. de Levis hadalready projected his works. Day after day we watched the mentoiling, and presently our lines of defence began to creep slowlyout along the shores of Beauport.
That Hugh was there I knew, but I kept myself from thinking by mydaily attendance on Lucy, whose unfailing hope saw its fulfilmentalmost within touch when I told her of the certain coming of theEnglish. Gay parties of chattering women were made up to go out tothe camp and encourage the workers, but my heart ached too wearilyeven at my own distance to wish for any nearer approach.
I stood with Angelique one evening in the garden of the Hotel-Dieu,and even here the engineers had erected a battery overhanging thesteep cliff. Looking up towards the left, we could see the bridgeof boats, at the far end of which a hive of busy workers toiled ata fortification, called a hornwork, while immediately below usothers were building a boom to be floated across the wide mouth ofthe St. Charles to protect the bridge, and from this point on, downthe banks of the St. Lawrence, lay our main defences.
There the white coats of the regulars mingled with the blue andgrey of the Canadians and volunteers. Indians stalked or squattedabout, taking no part in a labour they could not understand; officersmoved to and fro, directing and encouraging the men, and from themanor of Beauport floated the General's flag, marking hisheadquarters.
Before this restless, toiling mass swept the great empty river,changing its colour with every change of sky which floated overit, while behind stretched the beautiful valley of the St. Charles,its gentle upward sweep of woods broken only by the green fieldsand white walls of Charlesbourg until it met the range of blue andpurple hills which guards it to the north. At a point oppositewhere we were standing the nearer mountains opened out and sheweda succession of golden hills which seemed, in the tender eveninglight, as the gates of some heavenly country where all was peace,and the rumour of war could never enter.
At length all preparations were complete, and we waited impatientlyfor the drama to begin.
Towards the end of June the first English ships were reported, andon the evening of the twenty-second an excited group of ladiesgathered on the Battery of the Hotel-Dieu, and through a stormwhich swept down over the hills, amid the flashing of lightningand to the roar of thunder, we watched their fleet silently fileinto view in the South Channel, and come to anchor under shelterof the Isle of Orleans. In the chapel the nuns were singing:
"Soutenez, grande Reine, Notre pauvre pays: Il est votre domaine. Faites fleurir nos lis.
"L'Anglois sur nos frontieres Porte ses etendards. Exaucez nos prieres, Protegez nos remparts."
And as if in answer, one by one, our watch-fires were kindled,until they twinkled in a long unbroken line from the St. Charlesto Montmorenci.
The long siege had begun. Such an array of ships was never beforeseen from the walls of Quebec. There were the flag-ships of AdmiralsSaunders, Holmes, and Durell; twenty-three ships of the line,besides frigates, transports, and a flock of smaller craft nestledunder shelter of the Island; all these crowded with ten or twelvethousand troops under General Wolfe and his brigadiers, Monckton,Townshend, and Murray, fresh from triumph, and determined on adesperate effort for new conquest.
Face to face with them stretched our long line of defenders, asresolute and as confident--regulars, militia, Indians, and volunteers,and in the ranks of the latter the grandfather stood by the grandson;had the wives and daughters been permitted, many of them, I doubtnot, would have held a musket beside those dearest to them.
On land and on water, there was constant change and movement; thestately vessels moved slowly up and down, small boats plied backwardand forward, troops were landed where unopposed; on our side ofthe river every eye was vigilant, guessing what each new move mightportend. No on
e could look upon it without a swifter-beating heart.Before us swept all "the pomp and circumstance of war" without anyof its horror--as yet--and the panorama in which it was displayedadded to its dignity and importance.
We became accustomed to the distant boom of heavy guns, and watchedthe constant movement of the combatants with much excited commentand foolish security.
It was Gabriel who first brought us face to face with the reality.We were surprised by his appearance at the house about the middleof July; he looked twenty years older; all his former jauntinessof manner had disappeared, and so dejected was his bearing I couldscarce believe it was the same man I had known.
"Mesdames," he said, "my respects to you all, though I come as abearer of bad tidings."
"No one expects compliments in time of war, Gabriel. Tell me itis not my son, and you may speak freely," said the brave old lady,with a blanched face.
"Thank God, it is not! He came into camp only yesterday, with ahundred good men behind him, so worn out that they are fitter forthe hospital than the field, but good food and rest will set themright again in a week. Ah, madame," he cried, with a sparkle ofhis old air, "but he has tickled them rarely! Bedame! his name willnot smell sweet in their nostrils for many a long day!"
"Then tell us your news, Gabriel; anything else is easily borne."
"'Un fou fait toujours commencement,' madame, and I know not howto begin. But the English began with M. de Sarennes, and they foundhim so little to their taste that they have ended by burning themanor at Beaulieu level with the ground, and not a barn norout-building is left on the domaine."
"If their sons could give such cause for reprisal, there is not awoman in Canada who would not be proud to suffer a like revenge,"responded the old lady, with unfaltering voice.
"Do not fear, madame, our day will come; and when it comes we willall have our scores to wipe out. I know that I have mine!"
"Surely they have not stooped to burn your cottage?"
"No; it is safe; and so is my Amelia. My quarrel is on my ownaccount. They tricked me on board their fleet by flying our colours,and carried me here."
"Do not dare to stand here and tell me that you piloted them!"cried the old lady, with the utmost scorn.
"No, madame, I did not."
"Then you may go on," she said, sternly.
"I did not; but it makes little difference, madame."
"It makes every difference whether we are traitors or not! Go on."
"Well, madame, when I found I was trapped I made all the stir Icould. I blustered and swore, and, Heaven forgive me! I lied tothem as I had never lied before. I boasted like a Bostonnais, andwhen they commanded me to take charge in the Traverse, I said no,though I had a pistol behind my head and my Amelia before my eyesall the time. But they did not blow my brains out--they onlylaughed at me. Madame, it is dreadful to be ready to die, and findthey only laugh," and the tears streamed down his rugged cheeks ashe spake.
"My good Gabriel, we are proud of you! Go on!"
"It was of no use; they had their boats out with flags to mark thechannel, and an old devil they called Killick swept me aside asone might a dirty rag, and took command, calling out his directionsto the boats and edging the ship along without a mistake, thoughI prayed with all my soul he might ground her. He was a sorcerer,madame, for he took the ship up as if he had done nothing else allhis life. When they were through, they jeered at me in their damnableEnglish, and treated me with a kindness that was harder than blows;and then, to add to my shame, they sent me on shore with the womenlast week, as if they feared me just as little, which was worst ofall."
"Never mind, Gabriel. You did all that a brave man could--and thesiege is not over yet!"
"That is true, madame," he cried, brightening under her kindlywords, "and, saving your honour, 'le mulet garde longuement un coupde pied a son maitre,' as we say. That is my comfort."
"Will you join M. de Sarennes, Gabriel?" asked Mme. de Sarennes."I would like to think he had so good a man beside him."
"No, madame; I have orders to go on board the vessels at Sillery.I will be of more use there than on shore."
"Good. You will remember Beaulieu when your turn comes with theEnglish!"
"I will, madame, and if le bon Dieu ever allows me that kick, restassured it shall be a good one!" and he left us laughing, muchcomforted in his trouble.
Though never out of the sight and sound of war, we had so farsuffered but little in the city itself. We watched with curiositythe English intrenching themselves on the opposite heights of thePointe de Levy, and there was much speculation among us as to theirobject. That the city would be bombarded was scouted as ridiculous;but one midnight towards the end of June we were awakened by theheavy booming of artillery, and rushed to our windows to see theheights of the Levy shore flashing with the explosions from thecannon, and the hill beneath us filled with a panting, terror-strickencrowd, laden with every conceivable description of household goods,clambering up past us to gain some corner of safety, while theflames from a shattered warehouse in the Basse Ville threw anominous glare over the blackness of the river. War in its mostterrifying guise was at our very doors, and had it not been forthe heroic calmness of Mme. de Sarennes, we should probably havejoined the distracted crowd in the streets. While affrighted womenand children, and even men, rushed past in the wildness of theirterror, filling the night with the clamour of despair, and exposingthemselves to still greater dangers in their efforts to escape,she gathered her little household about her and set fear at defiance.
Dressed with her usual care, she sate in the drawing-room with allthe candles lighted, the shutters closed, and the curtains tightlydrawn. There was not a trace more colour than usual in her fine,high-bred face, nor a quiver to her slender hands, nor a tremor inher voice as she repeated some familiar psalm, or led us in theprayers we offered unceasingly throughout the long night. Hercalmness, superior to the alarm without, dominated over the moreignorant--she put away danger from before them--as her unshakenconfidence in a high protection inspired the more courageous.
But, for faint and stout hearted alike, it was a fearful night.For hours the great guns played without ceasing; at the nearerexplosions the very rock on which the house was founded seemedloosened, and the effort to control ourselves and not leap to ourfeet with the terrified servants became such a strain on Angeliqueand myself that we dared not let our eyes meet, for fear of anoutburst of tears.
Some time during the night, at an unusual uproar in the street,Mme. de Sarennes sent one of the men-servants to the upper windowsto discover its cause. In a few moments he returned withhorror-stricken face--"O mon Dieu, madame! the Cathedral is onfire! We are lost!" At which, a wail of despair broke from us all.Angelique's head dropped on her mother's lap. "O ma mere! It wasGod's own house!" she sobbed.
Her mother's white hand softly stroked her hair with reassuringfirmness, while she whispered words of comfort. Then to everyawe-struck heart about her she said, with confidence, "It was thehouse of God Himself, and He has not spared it, while His hand hasbeen over our roof, and He is holding each one of us safe in Hiskeeping"; and we took fresh courage at her words.
Gradually the fire slackened, and at length ceased. The morningcame, and we were still safe and untouched, amid the surroundingruin.
Soon after daybreak we heard a knock at the door, and the Town-Major,M. Joannes, was ushered in.
He looked upon us with astonishment in his tired eyes.
"Mme. de Sarennes, no one suspected you of being here! All theinhabitants fled from the face of the town when the fire opened.Pardon me, but you must move at once."
"We have only been waiting for orders, monsieur. Where are we togo?"
"To the Hotel-Dieu for the present, madame; but it is quite possiblethat will soon be unsafe, now they have our range. With yourpermission, I will send some men at once to move what can be carriedand stored in some safer place; for you cannot expect the house tostand through another fire."
"It has served its
purpose, monsieur; we have no right to largerregrets than have others. Come, my children, let us go."
With a last look round the room that had seen so much of her lifewithin its walls, she passed out, and bidding us gather our lightervaluables and some clothing, withdrew for a few moments to her ownroom, and then rejoined us in the hallway.
We made a sad little procession as we threaded our way through theruined streets, between the smoking and crumbling walls of thehomes we had looked upon but yesterday, bright with all the assuringsigns of comfortable, secure life, past the wrecked Cathedral, andbetween piles of household goods heaped in ruinous confusion inthe Place. This was now crowded with anxious, pale-faced people,hollow-eyed and aged with the terror of actual war, seeking outtheir little valuables, some with shrill-voiced complaint andcontention, others with a hopeless, silent mien that went to ourhearts, and yet others with an air of gayety and the tricks andbuffooneries of school children.
"We made a sad little procession."]
We were thankful to escape out of the hubbub and distraction ofthe streets to the quiet within the walls of the Hotel-Dieu; but,alas! the next night the bombardment recommenced, and it was apparentwe could not long hope for safety, as the English fire became moreexact and far-reaching.
The white-robed nuns moved about their duties with calm resignation,though often the trembling lips or the involuntary start told ofthe strain it cost to control the natural alarm which shook theheart when some nearer crash foretold approaching disaster.
Lucy lay calm and unmoved; every day that brought the Englishnearer, was bringing her nearer to Kit. The thunder of the bombardmentwas to her like the knocking on the gate which shut her in fromher one object in life, and that it was being shattered meant onlydeliverance. When orders came to remove to the General Hospital,without the walls of the town and beyond all immediate danger, shewas more disturbed than at any time during the siege.
The Hospital stood in the valley of the St. Charles, somewhat lessthan a mile from the town, with the river sweeping in a great bendon the one side, and the steep Heights, at the end of which thetown stood, rising on the other. We were cut off from any view ofthe St. Lawrence, but the sight of the bridge of boats, with itshornwork, across the tongue of land enclosed by the sweep of theriver, and the walls of the town crowning the Heights, kept us intouch with the struggle going on between us and the English, whostill held the St. Lawrence, with its opposite shore.
The convent itself was a pile of grey stone buildings forming aquadrangle with wings, begun by the Recollect fathers nearly acentury before. It was in two of their curious little cells thatMme. de Sarennes, Angelique, and I were lodged. The chapel openedout of the square entry--it scarce could be dignified as a hall--onwhich the principal doorway gave, and to the right of this was thelong, low-ceilinged room, lighted by many-paned windows down oneside, which now served as a common meeting-place for the nuns ofthe three congregations and their numerous guests.
Here all who were willing and able to work placed themselves underthe direction of the Superior, for the nuns had more than theycould well attend to, with the invalids of the Hotel-Dieu added totheir own, as well as the wounded, who now began to come in.
On the last day of July we heard heavy firing towards Montmorenci,beginning about mid-day, and towards five o'clock it increased toa continuous dull roar. It was dark before the first messengerreached us, and our hearts were lifted by the tidings he bore. Itwas victory, perhaps complete and final; the English had lefthundreds of dead behind them, and our loss was nothing.
Scarce an hour after this the wounded began to arrive, and beingbut a novice to such sights, I was glad when the Superior, noticingmy pale face, called Angelique to bid us go out into the court-yardand get a breath of fresh air. It was a welcome relief to us both,and we were walking up and down, eagerly discussing the news, whenan officer rode in at the gate, supporting a wounded man before him.
"It is M. de Maxwell!" cried Angelique, joyfully, and my impulsewas to turn and fly, but he had already recognised Angelique, andcalled to her without ceremony:
"Mademoiselle de Sarennes, will you and your companion support thislad into the Hospital? He is not seriously wounded, only weak fromthe loss of blood," and as though counting on our help withoutquestion, he let the boy slip tenderly to the ground, and I wasforced to step forward with Angelique to his support.
Bending down from his horse, he held the boy as he directed us howto aid him, and then whispered encouragingly: "Keep up, my lad;you are among friends! Make your best effort before these ladies!"
"Keep up, my lad; you are among friends!"]
He certainly had no suspicion of who I was, for when he was satisfiedthat we were equal to our task he turned his horse, and crying, "Athousand thanks, mesdames. Good-night!" he rode slowly back throughthe gates.
The lad was in Highland uniform, and I spake to him in Gaelic,thinking to enhearten him, but he made no reply as he staggeredforward between us towards the door.
Once within, we summoned aid, and, as the lad sank into a chair,the light fell full on his upturned face, and I saw it was that ofChristopher Routh. Hugh had gone far to redeem himself in my eyes.