CHAPTER XXV
A FORLORN HOPE
Absorbed though I was in my work, I could not but mark what waspassing between Angelique and Archie--how unconsciously mysingle-hearted brother was following her in that path in which thefeeblest maid can lead the strongest of his sex.
Her imagination had been fired by the romance of his finding me,and the story of his early adventures found in her a skilfullistener, who could extract every detail from his somewhat unwillinglips. His endeavours to catch her nimble wit as it flew, and theexpression of awakening wonder on his face when he suspected herof nonsense, would many a time send us into peals of laughter.Even Mme. de Sarennes was interested, though she frankly professednothing beyond an armed neutrality towards our hosts.
So the winter dragged on. There was much suffering among the people,much anxiety and constant alarms for those in command; but eachheart loved or hoped, waited or wearied, as in time of peace, andevery one looked forward with impatience or anxiety towards thecoming of spring, which would bring the denouement.
By April everything was astir once more. The familiar intercourseof the long winter was interrupted, officers and men went abouttheir duties so earnestly we could not but feel that all relationswere suspended until the result should be determined. Soon newscame of the movements of our army about Montreal and elsewhere,and the English garrison was marched out for daily exercise andduty on the plains, and as far as Ste. Foye.
At length it was clear that some movement was imminent. Orderswere issued that the inhabitants were to leave the city--that is,all the common people--and word was sent to the Ursulines and theother communities that they were free to leave, did they so choose,otherwise they must remain through the siege, should the city beinvested, and must share the fortunes of the garrison. La mere dela Nativite, our Superior, decided at once that her community shouldremain, and Mme. de Sarennes said the same for our little party.
Angelique and I stood in la rue St. Jean, and our hearts werestirred by the wailings and lamentations of the people leaving thetown in long procession.
"Courage!" cried Angelique, to a despairing woman. "We will welcomeyou all back again. You will come in with our army!"
"Malbrook s'en va-t-en guerre Ne sait quand reviendra,"
trolled out a lusty fellow, with a laugh.
"Tais-toi, v'limeux!" cried the woman, angrily.
"il reviendra-z-a Paques, Ou a la Trinite,"
he continued, unconcernedly, and the crowd catching at his humour,joined in the lilting refrain, and involuntarily quickened theirsteps to the "mironton, ton, taine" of the old war song, at whichAngelique clapped her hands in delight, and was rewarded with ashout of admiration.
"They would have done better to have fed that fellow," she said,decidedly, as we turned away; "he will do some fighting, dependupon it."
"You are confident, Angelique?"
"Certainly, cherie; the town cannot be defended. We know that,and if General Murray goes out, as he is sure to, he will but marchto his fate, as did our poor marquis."
On the 22d of April we were up before daybreak, and saw the garrisonmarch out with their cannon under a leaden sky and a cold drizzlingrain. I went about my tasks weighed down by a sickening anxiety,for though I had renounced Hugh, it was impossible to banish himat all times from my thoughts, and I could not but remember that,in addition to the ordinary chances of battle, he had among hisenemies a sworn foe in my brother, and among his friends a treacherousenemy in Sarennes. Against these dangers, at least, I could prayfor him with an undivided heart.
Noise of firing came to us through the day, which we spent inPerpetual Adoration, but at evening the troops re-entered the townand the battle was still unfought.
On the morrow they were again assembled, and again we watched themmarch through the sodden streets.
We had not long to wait for news of the combat; every gust of windswept down on us the faint crackle of musketry and the deep boomof cannon; it seemed interminable, but before the afternoon waswell advanced the first stragglers had reached the gates. They werefollowed later by a mad, ungovernable mob of English troops, andsoon the streets were choked with men, shrieking, crying, andswearing at their defeat. Their officers, with swords drawn, rodeamong them, threatening and striking, entreating and commanding todeaf ears, for the men were like wild beasts, and could not becontrolled. It was not fear; it was like to a frenzy of rage andshame at their rout. They broke into taverns and even privatehouses, and presently the madness of drink added to the pandemonium.The wounded were with the greatest difficulty carried through thestreets, and before evening our convent and every other refuge wascrowded to the utmost.
It was a strange position for all of us; the wounded were ournominal enemies, it is true, but we had been living with them onterms of the kindliest intimacy for a long winter, and there wasno stimulus of duty needed to make the nuns put forth every effortfor their relief. To me they were more than generous enemies--theywere countrymen and kinsmen for whom I was bound to work with awhole heart.
I was interrupted in my task by the appearance of Christopher."Madam, I have come to tell you that your brother, the Captain, issafe."
"Is he wounded?" I asked, with swift anxiety.
"Yes, madam, but our surgeon says a fine clean cut; and I believehim too, for he went off to sleep the moment it was dressed, moretired than hurt. He is in his own room, where you may look at himif you will promise not to speak," he said, with an air of thegreatest importance. "I gave Miss Angelique his clothes to attendto as she asked, for she was there when he was brought in, andwaited until she heard the surgeon say there was no danger. Shewould have liked to watch, too, but I was put in charge."
Christopher cautiously opened the door and allowed me to peep in,and my heart was lightened at the sight of Archie sleeping quietly,his brown curls hidden beneath a mass of bandages, but his facecomposed and natural.
"Thank you, Christopher," I said. "You are a brave lad."
"There were lots more better than me," he said, modestly, "but wedidn't have a chance, for all that."
"Tell me something of what happened."
"I don't know what happened after it began. I only saw the back ofthe man in front of me, and was too busy with my piece to think ofanything else, until I saw my Captain in trouble, and then my handswere full, for the rest of the day. After I hear some of the oldpowder-eaters talk, madam, I'll be able to make up a fine storyfor you," he said, with a bright laugh that to me sounded like anecho.
I hastened to our room, and there found Angelique in a state ofexultation.
"Victory, Marguerite! As I told you! Our troops are on the Heightsand hold the General Hospital, and the English are trapped in thesecrazy walls!" But in an instant she calmed herself and said,earnestly, "Now is the time for you to save us all!"
"I save you all? What do you mean?"
"Mean, Marguerite? Listen to those cries and the fighting. Do youknow what they mean? They mean that the men, the whole garrison onwhich the English depend, is mad with drink and defeat--and Levisscarce a mile away with his victorious army! Just one word to him,Marguerite, and we are saved; he will be in the town before themorning."
"Yes, but how can it be sent? What can I do?"
"Carry it to him!"
"Angelique, are you mad? How could I carry it?"
"There is your answer," she cried, pointing to Archie's uniform."You will put these things on, and you can pass the gate withouta question. Come, undress at once."
"Oh, Angelique, I cannot! Let me go as I am and I will not hesitate,but--"
"For shame, Marguerite!" cried the high-spirited girl. "For shame!to think of yourself and such school-girl prudery at such a time!But forgive me, cherie; I did not quite mean that. I know what youfeel. But do you think I would hesitate had I your height and couldI speak English? No, a thousand times no! Marguerite, it must bedone! You are the only woman--the only person, man or woman--inQuebec who can do it."
"Angelique
," I cried, in an agony of distress, "think of my ownpeople here; it would be almost like betraying them."
"Well, think of them, but think of them as soldiers of King Georgeagainst whom you were praying night and day, not so many years ago,as you have said yourself."
"But there is my brother!"
"He is safe in bed down-stairs; and when he is a prisoner, Marguerite,I give you my word of honour I will go to M. de Levis and claimhim for myself, like a squaw;" and she laughed merrily.
"How can you laugh, Angelique? Don't you see what it means to me?"
"Don't you see what it means to us, Marguerite? You know how wehave hoped and suffered. You have lived among us and shared everythingwe had to give, joy and sorrow alike. Do you owe nothing to us?You were defended by him who lies in his grave below when a jealouswoman would have branded you as a spy. Do you owe nothing to theMarquis de Montcalm? Do you owe nothing to those others who stoodbetween you and her malice?"
"Angelique, do you think you need remind me of these things?"
"Forgive me, cherie, if I am ungracious enough to urge the claimof benefits bestowed. This is no time for pretty speeches. I wouldurge anything to decide you."
"It is not that. If I could go as I am, and simply risk capture,or even death, I would not hesitate."
"You cannot go as you are! A woman could not even pass through thestreets to-night; but no one will look twice at a uniform."
"But I cannot. Think what it will mean to me if I am discovered;think what it will mean even if I succeed."
"Marguerite, Marguerite, you must forget what you are! You mustforget what you can do, and what you cannot do! Forget everything,save that these tidings must reach M. de Levis to-night, and thatyou are the only one who can carry them. There! Begin to undressat once! Quick! Quick! Any further delay may render all useless."
Might this not be the reparation for any share I had had in thefailure of Sarennes to return to succour Louisbourg? If I acceptedit and proved successful, would not I carry into my new vocationsomething more than the failure of a life that had sought but itsown ends? If I failed, would not I have attempted at least somethingfor those who had so generously befriended me? Was not my shrinkingfrom the ordeal of the disguise but a harking back to those littleconventions which I had resolved to cast aside forever? Could Imake a better use of my life than to lay it down, if need be, insuch a cause?
Reasoning thus, I caught something of the intensity of purposewhich dominated Angelique, and with fingers as eager as her own Iprepared myself for my venture.
"What if I am stopped and spoken to in the town?"
"Don't be stopped," she laughed, "and you mustn't speak unless yourlife depends on it. Carry your sword in your hand, so it won't tripyou up, square your shoulders, and try to swagger like a man. Onceoutside the walls, you run no danger at all. Keep on the Ste. FoyeRoad, and you are sure to fall in with our people and be capturedin due form. Then say, 'Gentlemen, I am a most important prisoner;take me at once to M. le general!' et v'la! the trick is done!Nothing easier; if I had only learned to speak your barbarouslanguage, and were a little taller, I would be in your shoesto-night, and wouldn't change places with the best lady inVersailles!"
Chattering and laughing thus in her excitement, she shortened upstraps and adjusted buckles with as many jests as though dressingme for a masquerade.
"She shortened up straps and adjusted buckles."]
"There!" she cried, as she coiled up my hair tightly, "we must dowithout the wig, but the bonnet will cover a multitude of sins.You are as pretty a looking fellow as the heart of woman coulddesire. Nothing is wanting now but a brave carriage! Walk up anddown like this, till I see," and she did her best to imitate amartial stride. "Courage, cherie! you are pale as a ghost. Courage!and remember every heart true to France will pray for you, whetheryou win or lose. You are carrying the fate of the colony in yourhands to-night. Let me kiss you, cherie. Again. Bah! I'm only cryingbecause I can't go in your stead. Come, I will let you out."
When the side door of the convent shut behind me and I found myselfalone in the darkness of the narrow street, my courage wellnighfailed me, and with shame in my heart I realised I was tremblingso I could hardly put one foot in front of the other. But the raindashed into my face by the high wind revived me, and with an effortI went on. As I made my way down past the Jesuits my couragegradually returned, and resolutely thinking of my mission alone,I banished my fears to such extent that I was enabled to grasp mysword firmly, and step forward with some show of assurance.
As I turned into rue St. Jean a drunken soldier struck terror intome again by shouting out a convivial salutation in Gaelic, but hismore sober comrades silenced him with low curses at his imprudence,and I went on, unmolested.
There were not so many in the streets as I had expected, and withthis one exception no one noticed me; but as I drew near to theSt. John's Gate I made out a crowd of men busily engaged inbarricading it, and for a moment I stood still in bewilderedhelplessness. I had so resolved on leaving the town by this meansthat when I found it closed against me it seemed as if my wholeplan had failed. With my heart beating so I could hardly see todirect my steps, I turned back along the way I had come, and itwas not until I drew near the Palace Hill I remembered there wereother exits. Gaining fresh courage, I turned down and made my wayto the Palace Gate, when, for the first time, it struck me that apassword must be given, and of it I was ignorant. I did not evenknow the forms necessary to pass the men, and if an officer werepresent I must be discovered at once; but it was now too late todraw back, as I was in full view of the guard.
It was a strange time to remember such things, but the first lineof poor Lucy's hymn kept ringing in my head, and I advanced, sayingover and over to myself, like a charm:
"Thou very present Aid In suffering and distress."
When I was almost face to face with the guard I made out it wascomposed of sailors, and just as I expected to hear the words whichmeant discovery and disgrace, one said to the other in a tone ofauthority: "The Seventy-eighth. It's all right!" and withoutchallenging me they presented arms. Had I even known the passwordI could not have pronounced it, for my tongue clave to the roof ofmy mouth; but seeing my intent, the man who had spoken steppedbefore me and opened the wicket. I raised my hand in acknowledgment,and passed through.
I was without the walls.
Part III
MAXWELL'S STORY
"_Adieu, paniers, vendange sont faite._" -- Old Proverb.