CHAPTER XXIII
THE HEIGHTS OF QUEBEC
Christopher was at once examined by M. Arnoux, the surgeon, whoobligingly came at Angelique's request, and before long he met usto report that his patient was in no danger; his wound was dressed,and a night's sleep would go far to put him on his feet again. Hecould be seen without even fatigue on the morrow. I left word withthe sister in charge that she should tell him I was in the convent,and would come to him about eleven.
I had no hesitation in telling Lucy the news; indeed, the suspenseof every day that passed was wearing her frail body away so rapidlythat, had not God seen fit to send His answer to her prayer at thisvery time, she would have passed beyond its comfort. As it was,the news acted on her like some generous wine, strengthening withoutexciting her, her only request being that Christopher should notbe brought to her until he was quite able for the exertion.
When I entered Christopher's room he was already sitting up in bed,his eyes fairly dancing with delight.
"Oh, Madame de St. Just! Think of my being brought here, to findyou and my mother under the same roof, and that it was CaptainMaxwell who brought me! He saved me when I was down with an Indianover me, and did not get me off without standing some hard knockshimself. He carried me into the French lines, and as soon as theaffair was over, rode with me before him all this distance, keepingmy heart up the time by saying, 'Kit, my boy, I am taking you toyour mother,' and I so near swooning with this stupid arm I couldscarce hear him. You know I was with him in Louisbourg, and whenI was a child in London he lodged with us, as he was in hiding onaccount of the Scotch rising and calling himself Captain Geraldine.But tell me of my mother, madame. Can I not see her now?"
I told him as discreetly as I could of poor Lucy's condition, andhe bore up astonishingly well. What seemed to trouble him greatlywas the thought that he had never dreamed of the possibility ofher being ill. "Even though she was a prisoner I never feared shewould be hardly treated; no one could so cruel to my mother, sheis so gentle!" the poor lad continued. "I knew you were with her,and I never thought of the other danger at all. I was so happywhen I fell into English hands and was allowed to enlist in Boston,and in Fraser's Highlanders, too, not in a Colony regiment; andwhen we found there was no danger of peace being proclaimed, andthat we were for Quebec, we were all mad with joy to have anothercrack at the French. Oh, pardon me, madame; I forgot you were ontheir side," he cried, with a sudden confusion; "and I never doubtedfor a moment I should find her here."
The next day the surgeon pronounced him out of all possible danger,and added, significantly, "If his mother is to see him, it is bestit should be at once." Thereupon I obtained the necessary permission,and never have I seen greater joy in a face than in Lucy's, whenI ushered Christopher into her room.
That same evening, as I sate beside her, though she lay quiet andcomposed, I noticed a grave change had come over her, and callingone of the sisters who had had much experience, she at once saidthe end was near.
With the permission of the Superior I went for Christopher, andled him, white and awe--struck, to the bedside of his mother. Sheasked that I would not leave--"if it be not a trouble to you,madame," the poor thing pleaded, pitifully--and I remained besidethem.
"Christopher," she said, with an effort, "I made a promise yearsago that when this hour came I would tell you the truth aboutyourself. Our name is not Routh, but Maxwell; you are the son ofthe Captain Maxwell who saved you--and brought you back to me. Youremember him as the 'Captain Geraldine' who lodged with us inLondon? He had married me six years before, when we were but littlemore than boy and girl, and when you were born he was wandering ashipwrecked man in Russia, seeking eagerly some means of return tous, though I was persuaded he had deserted me. When he returned,and was willing to acknowledge me as his wife, I was hardened intoa heartless woman, believing myself separated, by what I ignorantlycalled God's grace, from him and the world to which he belonged.In my pride I refused to let him come into our lives, though heimplored me to let him make such restitution as was in his power.He behaved as few men would have done; for the sake of the oldlove, he bore with me and accepted my conditions--that he wouldnever mention our marriage, and would never come between you andme. He let you go away from his side in Louisbourg, though hisheart was yearning for you; because his honour, a quality which Ipretended not to understand, forbade him to forget his promise tome. He was always good to me, far beyond my deserts, and my hope,now that my eyes are opened, is that you, Christopher, will remembermy debt to him.
"Try and be gentle, my boy. Be true to him. He has had a sad, lonelylife, but you may make it up to him yet. When you see him, tellhim from me... tell Hugh..."--but here I silently withdrew, leavingthe mother to whisper her last message of contrition to the boykneeling beside her bed.
Pitiful as was poor Lucy's story, I could gather but little comfortfrom it. It seemed to me that in marrying out of his own class Hughhad committed so grave a fault that whatever followed in the wayof misunderstanding was but to be expected. He had been kind,forbearing, larger-minded than she had known; she had not evenrealised the sense of honour which had made her a wife and not amistress. It had gone the way of all mistakes, and produced nothingbut bitterness and regret. From it I could gather no excuse, nojustification of his conduct towards me; he had allowed my affectionto grow up and centre in him without a warning I could understandof the heart-break which confronted me, and I could not see thathis obligation towards her who had cast his love aside was moresacred than to her to whom it was all in all.
We laid Lucy to rest in the garden of the Hospital--without therites of the Church, it is true, but not without both prayers andtears, and then took up the daily round of duty once more.
Christopher, being no longer a patient, was ordered off to the townas a prisoner, but I sent with him a note to M. Joannes whichsecured him generous treatment. Through the month of August thewounded continued to come in, and though our troops were starvingas they stood behind their lines of defence, they were one and allhopeful of the result. The bombardment from the Levy shore continueduntil the town was little more than a heap of ruins, and nightafter night the sky was red with the glare of burning buildings.Part of the enemy's fleet had passed the city and threatened tocut off all supplies from the upper parishes. There were uglyrumours, too, of the Canadians deserting, for the tidings of theloss of Carillon and Niagara had gone far to dishearten them. Onthe other hand, we had authentic news of the desperate illness ofthe English general, Wolfe, and even though M. de Levis was forcedto march to the support of Montreal, the unfaltering courage of M.de Montcalm so inspired our troops that they held on successfully,praying for relief or the coming of winter.
About the beginning of September Angelique came to me greatlyexcited.
"Oh, Marguerite, Charles is here! He is very ill. Will you comeand see him?"
"Is he wounded?"
"No. But he has suffered incredible hardships in Acadie, and he isill--so ill that he cannot be in his place in the field. Come, hehas just been asking my mother for you. Come!"
"Impossible, cherie; M. Arnoux is depending on my supply of lintfor a patient," I replied, and so escaped for the moment. But withthe persistency of innocence she returned to her demand as we satewith her mother that evening.
"Marguerite, Charles has been asking for you again this afternoon.Will you see him the first thing in the morning?"
"I do not know, cherie; neither your mother nor the Superior hasgiven her permission as yet," I answered, much troubled at herinsistence.
"Oh, Marguerite, this is ungenerous of you!" cried the warm-heartedgirl. "Think, how ready Charles was to serve you when you wishedto go to Louisbourg! This is no time to stand on trifles."
"Angelique take care you are not ungenerous yourself," said Mme.de Sarennes, much to my relief. "Charles must not be childish inhis demands. There is no reason why Marguerite should visit himuntil he is up and prepared to receive her fittingly, for there isno reason why war shoul
d banish every rule of decorum." And withthese decided words the difficulty was dismissed, though not atall to Angelique's satisfaction.
At daybreak on the 13th of September we were awakened by the soundof guns above the city, and hastened to the attic windows; butdrift of passing showers hid the valley from us, while the Heightsloomed grey and shrouded above. There was nothing to enlighten us,and in company with our fears we descended to wait uneasily fortidings.
I grew so anxious and depressed in the half-lighted halls that Icould not remain below, and returned towards our room. But just asI approached the door some one came hurriedly along the corridor,and to my dismay I recognised M. de Sarennes.
"Stay one moment, mademoiselle; I must speak with you." His voicewas trembling, and even in the struggling light I could see hisdark face was drawn and haggard, though his black eyes burned witha fiercer light than before.
"It is useless, M. de Sarennes; I can hear nothing you have to say.Remember your mother and sister are here within call, and you willonly cause them pain if you force me to summon aid, which I willcertainly do. Have some pity for them if you have none for me."
"Answer me but one question. Do you love this Maxwell?"
"M. de Sarennes, I will tell you nothing. You have no right toquestion me."
"My God, Marguerite! have I not done everything for you?"
"You have done me every injury in your power. You have never spokento me that you have not tortured me so I cannot look on you withoutfear and loathing."
At my words he stepped close to me, but before either could uttera sound, a shrill cry came from above:
"O mon Dieu! mon Dieu! The English are on the Heights."
Doors were thrown open, and in an instant the corridors were filledwith white faces, and hurrying feet were flying towards the stairways.
"Nonsense!" cried a reassuring voice when we gained the upperwindows. "Those are our troops! See, they are crossing the bridge!"
"No. Here! Here! See! Just opposite us, over the edge of the hill."And as we crowded to the side whence the cry came our hearts sankas we saw a little patch of red against the morning sky.
"Bah! They are only a handful. See how our men are crossing theSt. Charles! There! They are coming out of the St. John's Gatenow!"
"Mes soeurs, we will descend to the chapel," said the calm voiceof la mere de Ste. Claude, and at her words the obedient nunsrecovered their usual air of quiet and flocked after her, as didmany of the others; but Angelique and I remained.
We could plainly see our troops defiling out of the town in aseemingly unending line, and could distinguish their officers ridingto and fro giving orders; but the little point of red remainedimmovable, and we could not tell whether it was an army or a singledetachment.
Regulars, Canadians, and Indians continued to pour across the bridgeof boats, and to cross through the town from the Palais to the St.John's Gate, whence they issued, and moved off towards the left,hidden from us by the rising ground.
We stood there hour after hour, forgetful of fatigue and hunger inour anxiety. We could hear the faint reports of musketry and thedull growl of cannon, but could not tell whence they came. Soon wediscovered scattered figures stealing along under the shelter ofthe hill towards the point of red, and as they drew nearer coulddistinguish the blue and grey of our Canadians and the head-dressesof Indians. At length spurts of smoke began to leap from the bushesall along the crest of the hill opposite us, extending far beyondthe point where the red had been, and, from the sensible increasein the firing, we judged the battle had begun.
But about ten o'clock we heard such a general discharge of cannonand musketry, and marked such instantaneous movement along the lineof skirmishers, that we knew what we had taken for the battle wasbut child's play. Suddenly the confused noise and firing weredominated by one sharp roar like to the clap of a thunder-bolt,followed by a second, and then by a long rolling fire. To thissucceeded cheers, different from any we had heard before, abovewhich I caught the shrill skirl of the bagpipes, while a greatcloud of smoke slowly rose and drifted to and fro in the heavy air.
Out of this, on a sudden, burst a screaming mob of men in mad,death-driven disorder, some sweeping towards the St. John's Gate,while others plunged down over the side of the hill to gain thebridge of boats. After them, in as wild pursuit, came the enemy,foremost of whom were the Highlanders, with flying tartans, shoutingtheir slogan as they leaped and clambered recklessly down thehill-side, slashing at the fugitives with their claymores, whilethe pipes screamed in maddening encouragement above.
The disaster was so unexpected, so instantaneous, that we couldnot comprehend it, and stood there in silent awe absorbed in thedreadful tragedy before us.
"O ciel! Marguerite! See, there is M. de Maxwell! On the Cote Ste.Genevieve!" cried Angelique, in a hoarse, strained voice, pointingas she spake.
The Cote Ste. Genevieve, a long and dangerous descent from theHeights, beginning near the town, down to the level on which theHospital stood, was exposed in all its length not only to the fireof the enemy above, but also to that of a number of Canadians, who,though driven down and across it, had rallied at its base and weredisputing the descent of the Highlanders and other of the English.
Down this rode Hugh. He was mounted on a powerful black horse andcame on at perilous speed. But the pursuers had marked him also,and just as he gained the middle of the descent the hill-side abovehim blazed out in a sweeping volley, and down he went on the neckof his horse. An involuntary cry burst from us both, but even asit sped he was erect again, and with hat in hand came spurring on,waving and cheering to the brave fellows below. In another momenthe was in their midst, where, dismounting, he seemed to give theneeded orders for their guidance. Unofficered and undirected, theyhad stubbornly disputed every inch of ground when all others hadgiven way, and now, under a few words of encouragement from agallant man, to our amazement, we saw them actually attempt toscale the hill, firing upwards as they climbed. They were notregulars; they made no pretence to the science of war; they hadbeen despised and belittled probably by every officer in the servicefor their manner of fighting; yet now in the hour of need theyalone stood firm between the flying army and destruction.
"With hat in hand came spurring on."]
As soon as he saw them steadied in their advance, Hugh mounted androde off towards another group busied in an attempt to drag a heavygun from some soft ground where it was deeply bogged, and then onagain towards the bridge of boats, the only way of escape for thedefeated troops.
"O mon Dieu! They will never cross! The bridge is blocked!" crieda despairing voice, and we trembled together as we watched therabble gathering in a mad rush towards the narrow passage, mixedin hideous confusion, with the exception of the Royal Roussillon,which stood as firm as if on parade.
The struggle still went on along the foot of the hill, where theCanadians manfully held their ground; but, to our dismay, we sawthat some fresh disaster had happened at the bridge.
"O mon Dieu! They are cutting it! The whole army will be lost!"But there was more efficient aid at hand than our useless cries.Even as we despaired we saw Hugh with other officers strugglethrough the mob, and, sword in hand, beat back the terror-strickencrowd until they gained the head of the bridge, when the RoyalRoussillon moved into position, and soon the straggling columnstook form and passed rapidly over beyond the shelter of the hornwork.
The pursuit was checked, as far as we could see, by the unaidedefforts of the Canadians; the English halted, reformed, and slowlywithdrew; the last of our troops recrossed the St. Charles; and inthe twilight we saw our colours still flying on the ramparts ofQuebec.
There was nothing more for us to see, perhaps nothing more to hope,and broken in body and in spirit we wearily descended the stairways,and traversed the long corridors in silence until we reached themain hall on the ground-floor.
The room was barely lighted by a few candles at one end, and wasfilled to overflowing by the nuns of the three orders, mingled withthose
who had shared their generous hospitality--old and feeblegentlemen whose fighting days had long passed; grey-hairedgentlewomen, patient and resigned, others in the full bloom ofyouth, and young girls and children, pale and anxious-eyed; whilein the circle of light beneath the great black crucifix on thewhite wall stood the commanding figure of la mere de Ste. Claude,and with her la mere de Ste. Helene of the Hotel-Dieu, and la merede la Nativite of the Ursulines.
All were listening with breathless attention to the words that fellfrom the venerable Bishop of Quebec, Monseignieur de Pontbriand,whose quiet bearing and measured tones carried assurance to manya fainting heart.
"My children," he was saying, as we entered, "do not forget, inour day of disaster, that we are not left helpless. Let us forour comfort say together those words, which we learned to lisp aschildren, but perhaps only to understand to-night." And, as heraised his hand, the people knelt, and with voices that gainedconfidence as the familiar words fell from his lips, they repeatedthe "Qui habitat" in unison: "He that dwelleth in the secret placeof the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty."
"He that dwelleth in the secret place ofthe Most High."]
The common danger, the common worship, drew us together. Eachsucceeding verse, with its divine assurance of safety and protection,brought to us a quiet and a confidence which renewed our strength.
But even as all hearts were lifted there came a commanding knockat the outer door opposite the chapel, which was immediatelyrepeated, and la mere Ste. Claude signed it should be opened.
Angelique and I, being at the threshold of the hall, hastened toobey, and found ourselves in the presence of a general officer,behind whom was a detachment of soldiers in Highland uniform. Theofficer stepped into the hall as one who takes possession, anddemanded the Superior, in accurate French.
She came forward followed by the principal nuns and ladies.
"Have no fear, mesdames," he said, bowing low with much eleganceof manner; "I am General Townshend. You will suffer no harm; butwe must take possession of your convent, for your protection aswell as our own."
"You are victors, monsieur, and can command," she said, bitterly.
"We are victors, madame," he returned, gravely, "but we have boughtour honours dearly. Our general lies dead on the plain above."
"C'est sur le champ d'honneur, monsieur," she instantly responded,in a tone of much feeling.
"A thousand thanks for your sympathy, madame; we will use everydiligence to preserve it. Captain Nairn will take charge here, andwill give you assurance of safety and protection from insult. Inreturn, you will kindly offer such shelter to the wounded as ispossible, and furnish him with every information as to the numberof rooms available, for I must ask for all accommodation in yourpower."
He introduced Captain Nairn and withdrew at once, followed by theassurances of the Superior that everything would be done for thecomfort of the wounded.
It was with a curious feeling that I looked on my brother, for Icould not doubt that it was he, though I had not seen him since wewere children. Despite the disorder of his dress and his evidentfatigue, he was a handsome man, though not much taller than myself.His address was natural and easy, and certainly his French wasperfect; I had but a moment to gather this, for we were at oncedismissed from our attendance by the Superior, who remained aloneto arrange with our new masters.
"O, ciel! Marguerite! is that your brother?" whispered Angelique,excitedly.
"Yes, cherie, I have no doubt it is," I answered, sadly.
"I should not sigh over such a misfortune," she cried, gayly. "Youare cold-blooded creatures, you Scotch! Why, I should have beenweeping on his neck long ago, no matter what had happened! He haseyes like yours."