CHAPTER XXVII
I FIND A KEY TO MY DILEMMA
"We are your prisoners!" I answered, instantly, for the slightesthesitation on such occasions may lead to the most serious results.Explanations can be made subsequently, but a bullet from anover-zealous musket can never be recalled.
In an instant they were beside us, a sergeant and six men, allHighlanders. I was about to speak again, but before I could do soMargaret stepped up to the sergeant, and taking him by the sleevewhispered a few words in his ear. He thereupon gave some instructionsin Gaelic to his men, who closed round me and the priest, and,moving off a few paces with her, they spake earnestly together fora little. What she said I do not know, but in a moment he facedabout, and picking up the lanthorn, examined me in turn.
"Your name and rank, sir?" he said to me.
"Hugh Maxwell, captain."
"God bless me, sir! But this is not the first time I have heardyour name, nor seen you, if you'll excuse my saying it," he said,most earnestly.
"Like enough. What is your name?"
"Neil Murray, sir."
"And a very good name it is; but I cannot say I recall it."
"But you will remember the march to Derby, sir, and Lord George?"he asked, eagerly.
"I am never likely to forget it. Were you there?"
"Where else would I be when my grandfather was own cousin to his?"
"Then I suppose there's no treason now in shaking hands over soold a story, Neil?" I said, extending my hand, which he graspedheartily, and relations were established between us.
He then turned to the priest. "Your name, your reverence?"
"Le pere Jean, missionary."
"Well, gentlemen, it cannot be helped. You must both follow us intothe town."
He gave his orders briefly, and blowing out the lanthorn, tookMargaret by the arm, supporting her as one might a wounded man,and so we set off. It was evident the quick-witted sergeant possessedthat invaluable qualification of the successful soldier, thereadiness to carry out as well as to devise a plan; for in handlingthe lanthorn he had never once allowed the light to fall on Margaret,and by his happy pretence of her being wounded, he avoided theawkward necessity of handing over the command to her as his superior.That he would do his best to shelter her from any scrutiny orquestioning was evident, and I was too thankful for the result topuzzle over the probable means by which it was attained. As likeas not, by the very simple expedient of telling the truth--awonderfully efficacious measure at times, when you know your man.
A quick, hard scramble brought us down to the level of the Palais;we passed the Intendance, black and deserted, and so on towardsthe foot of the Cote du Palais. When we reached the gate thesergeant halted us; the sign and countersign were given, whereuponthe wicket was opened.
Passing his arm about Margaret, who leaned upon him heavily, thesergeant skilfully interposed himself between her and the officerin charge, and gave his report: "Neil Murray, sergeant, 78th, sixmen, two prisoners, and one of our own, wounded," and on we marchedup the slippery hill without a moment's unnecessary delay.
As soon as we were beyond sight of the gate our pace was slackened,and, now that all immediate danger of discovery for Margaret wasat an end, I fell to wondering at the extraordinary chance whichagain brought me face to face with her who had proved theturning-point in my life. Little by little I pieced out the puzzle,and the more I brought it together, the more I wondered, but in avague, disjointed fashion, that led to no solution. My confusedthoughts were interrupted by our party halting in front of theConvent of the Ursulines, where, to my relief, I saw the sergeantlead Margaret round towards the side entrance.
"May I ask where you are taking us?" I said, when we again beganour march, putting the question more to set my mind working againthan out of curiosity.
"Where else would we be going but to the General?"
"And where has he found quarters in this stone heap? You have madea fine mess of things with your battering," I said, for the evidenceof their fire on the town was surprising.
"Have we not!" he exclaimed, with true soldierly pride. "But therewill be a corner or two, here and there, that was out of our reach.It was a God's mercy for ourselves that we didn't have our will ofthe whole town, or there's many a poor fellow would have made abad winter of it."
"I dare say you found it bad enough as it was, eh, Neil?"
"You may say that, sir! There's been a deal to put up with for bothhigh and low. But here we will be at the General's."
As he spake we drew up before a house in the rue St. Louis, andwere ushered into an anteroom, where we were left under guard,while our conductor departed to make his report.
I was not permitted to speak with my fellow-prisoner, and so wentback to my wonderings. It was Margaret--that is, Mme. de St.Just--who had befriended Lucy on shipboard, and protected her since.What a marvellous happening, that these two women, of all othersin the world, should have thus been thrown together! That she nowknew of my relation towards Lucy I could not doubt; and though Ihad preferred it might have come about otherwise, I bitterlyreflected that an estimate of my character was no longer of supremeimportance to her, now she was a married woman. Though I had beendoing my utmost all these years of exile to school myself to aframe of mind in which I might look upon her as unapproachable forme, now that I found an insurmountable barrier existed, not of myown raising, with the inconsistence of mankind, I straight rebelledagainst it. What a climax to every irony of fate! To find myselffree, and she, whom I had so hopelessly loved, another's. Yet whatdid the priest mean when he said he had been trying to keep me fromher? I looked across the room at his impassive face, and felt Iwould give much for five minutes alone with him. Then an explanationwould be forthcoming in some shape.
From this coil I was aroused by the entrance of an officer to summonus into the presence of the General, and for the first time Iconsidered my personal situation. Not that I had anything to fear,for, in those days, war was a profession, and an officer was treatedas a gentleman by his opponent once active hostilities ceased, orwere even suspended; but the consequence of my capture wouldcertainly mean for me the loss of any advantage I might otherwisehave gained from our success. Now my name would figure in nodespatches, unless as "missing," a bitter disappointment, when Ihad so slowly and painfully gained something of a position. But Ihad no time to reason it out before we had crossed the thresholdof the General's room.
He was a clear-featured, bright-eyed man of thirty-five or forty,visibly harassed with the hard fortune of the day, but he did notallow his preoccupation to affect his bearing towards us.
"Reverend sir," he said, addressing the priest, "I take it forgranted you are a non-combatant, but as it has fallen to your lotto be brought within our lines, you must perforce remain a prisoner.If you will satisfy me as to your name and position, I shall judgeif I can grant you the less galling restrictions of parole."
"I take it for granted you are a non-combatant."]
The priest smiled. "I appreciate the reasonableness of the condition,your Excellency. My full name is Jean Marie Gaston de Caldegues,Vicomte de Trincardel, but for years I have borne none other than'le pere Jean, missionary to the Indians.'"
"That is perfectly satisfactory, sir. I shall be pleased to allowyou parole within the walls, only restricting you from approachingthose parts of the town where our defences are now placed. I shallgive you an order for quarters at the Ursulines, though doubtlessthe good ladies would readily receive you even without myintroduction." As he spake he accompanied the priest to the door,where he gave his instructions to an aide in waiting.
He then turned to me and extended his hand. "Chevalier, we havealready had the pleasure of some slight correspondence."
"I have to thank your Excellency for as great a courtesy as oneman can shew towards another. When I wrote, I ventured to mentionmy acquaintance with your Excellency's brother, Lord Elibank, notthat I relied on anything else than your Excellency's naturalsensibility for the acceptanc
e of my request, but that I might inthat manner help to establish my identity."
"Believe me, Chevalier," he returned, with emphasis, "that wastotally unnecessary. I was quite aware that you were in Canada. Aman does not easily slip out of sight so long as he remains amonghis own class."
"Your Excellency overwhelms me; such a recognition goes far to makeup for the years of disappointment I have endured."
"Then let us speak plainly, without further compliments on eitherside," he said, smiling gravely.
"Nothing could please me better, your Excellency."
"It will not even be necessary to keep up the 'Excellency.' I shallcall you Kirkconnel, after the good homely Scots' fashion, if youhave not forgotten."
"Forgotten! That is one of the curses of my Scotch blood. I cannotforget!"
"Then there is hope for you yet, Kirkconnel! For you have somethingbehind you worth remembering."
"I cannot say it oppresses me with any great sense of obligation,for I would find some difficulty in naming it at the moment."
"Tut, tut, man!" he exclaimed, heartily. "Don't tell me that a manwho played his part as well as you in '45 need mourn over it."
"We're getting out towards the thin ice now, are we not, General?"
"Not for me; though I dare say some members of my house might haveto guard their steps more carefully. But to go on: you followedwhat you and your forbears held to be The Cause, and to which youheld your honour pledged, and you saw it through to the bitter end.Then, instead of mixing yourself up in a miserable farrago ofpot-house plots and chamber-mysteries which have only served toturn some honest men into rogues, you have acted like a soldier,and done only a soldier's work. And, best of all, you have succeeded.You have much that is worth remembering, Kirkconnel!"
"Your Excellency is most kind."
"I prefer to be plain. Why not drop this whole business?"
"How can I? You would not urge me to come over because I happen tobe a prisoner to-day? I may be exchanged to-morrow."
"That you shall not, I'll answer for it! I have no intention togive M. de Levis the assistance of even one more artillery officer,if I can help it. No, no! I shall keep you fast while I can, but'tis only in the event of my holding the winning cards in thisaffair that I would urge you to send in your submission and takeyour place beside us, your natural comrades, where you belong.What chance of promotion, or even of recognition, will you run, ifM. de Levis has to leave Canada in our hands?"
"None whatever. I have never deceived myself for a moment on thatpoint."
"Then be sensible, and, like a sensible man, make a sensible movewhen the time comes!" he exclaimed, with the greatest good feeling.
"I am afraid I am too old a fool to be sensible at any time on sucha subject. But I thank your Excellency from the bottom of my heart,"I returned, as warmly.
"Nonsense, man! I would not have spoken had I not been taken withyou. But there! I am not a recruiting officer," he said, with alaugh. "Think well over what I have said; I am not pressing for ananswer." Thereupon he turned the subject, and we fell into aconversation over the events of the past summer and winter. Ianswered such questions as I could in regard to our present position,for there was no advantage to be gained by undue concealment, andhis consideration spared me any embarrassment.
When our interview ended he thanked me very handsomely, and regrettedhe could not offer me the hospitality of his own roof, but providedfor me in the Ursulines, granting me the same parole as the priest.
"You will find among your countrymen an odd rebel here and there,Kirkconnel; but I rely on you to stir up no fresh treason with'White Cockades,' or 'Bonnie Charlies,' or any other of the oldshibboleths."
"Have no anxieties on that score, your Excellency; I have had toorude an awakening ever to fall a-dreaming again. 'The burnt child.'"And I bowed, and left in company with the officer told off to seeto my reception.
The General's unlooked-for sympathy had gone far to restore me tomy natural bearing for the moment. It is flattering to any man tobe received by his military superior as a social equal, and Heavenforbid that I should pretend to a susceptibility less than theordinary. I was greatly pleased, therefore, by his recognition,and to my admiration of his soldierly qualities was now added awarm appreciation of his interest in me and my fortunes. But nopersonal gratification could long blind me to the misery of my realposition. Chance, inclination, and, I think I may honestly add,principle, had kept my affections disengaged and, my heart whole,without any reasonable expectation of ever realising my life'sdesire, and now I had stumbled upon it, only to find it inexorablywithheld from me, and every avenue to its attainment closed. CouldI have gone on to the end without actually meeting with Margaret,I could have borne it with the silent endurance which had supportedme so far, and had, in large measure, become a habit; but now everyregret, every passionate longing, every haunting memory which timehad lulled into seeming slumber, awoke to wring my heart at thevery moment when I believed the bitterness to have passed forever.
The first to welcome me at the convent was my son Kit. Heavens!how tall and well-looking the boy had grown, and with what feelingdid I take him in my arms. He returned my embrace with equalaffection, and when we settled down, spake of his mother's deathwith much natural feeling.
Poor Lucy! She had had a narrow life of it with the exception ofthe year we had lived together. What a light-hearted, merry littlesoul she then was! She had no education in the general sense, butwas possessed of so lively a sympathy that she entered into allthat appealed to me with an enjoyment and an appreciation that nomere learning could have supplied. She may have lacked the bearingand carriage of a great lady, but what stateliness of manner canrival the pretty softnesses of a gentle girl wholly in love. Shewas not strictly beautiful, but she had the charm of constantliveliness, and her unfailing content and merriment more than madeup for any irregularity in feature. This was the woman I had left,and I have already told what she was when I returned. It was notso much her nature that was at fault, poor thing! as the atrophyof soul resulting from an ungenerous form of religion.
I cannot but think it safer for both man and woman to continue inthose religions which have received the sanction of authority, thantake up with any new ventures, no matter what superior offers ofsalvation they may hold out. And the first step towards thisdangerous ground I believe to be that pernicious habit of idlespeculation on subjects too sacred for open discussion, which mightwell be left to their ordained guardians, and not to the curiousguessings of simple and unsophisticated minds.
Kit had much information to give touching others in whom I wasinterested. Of Mme. de St. Just he spake, as I would have expected,with the warmest admiration and gratitude; but after he had informedme that she was an inmate of the same convent in which we were, Iturned the conversation towards her brother, who, I learned, waswounded sufficiently to be under the surgeon's care, and was pleasedto gather that Master Kit had made a respectable showing for himselfin the rescue of his Captain. That Mademoiselle de Sarennes wasmuch concerned in Nairn's condition I was glad to hear, as such aninterest could not fail to be of service when she should learn ofher brother's fate, of which I took care to make no mention, as Ihad no desire to figure as the bearer of what must, to her, provepainful tidings.
"Your Captain is fortunate to engage the sympathies of so fair anenemy," was my only remark.
"Why, father, we do not look on them as enemies at all!" he returned,with the ingenuousness of his years.
"Look you here, Master Kit, I cannot have you calling me 'father';it has altogether too responsible a sound, and I do not wish tobegin and bring you to book for matters which may, later on, callfor a parent's judgment. Call me 'Chevalier,' if you like, it ismore companionable, and it is as comrades you and I must live,unless you wish to have me interfering with you in a manner youmight naturally enough resent later on. I love you heartily my boy,and it is love, not authority, I wish to be the bond between us.What do you say yourself?"
"It
can never be anything less than that, sir; you know how I wasdrawn to you that very first morning, when I entered your room inWych Street; you were the finest gentleman I had ever seen."
"Well, you have seen better since, Kit."
"None better to me, sir." And he added, hurriedly, as if to coverhis emotion, "Will you come over to us, now that we are victorious?"
"Oh, Kit, Kit, you are a true Englishman! Victorious! Why, greatHeavens! We beat you fifty times over, only to-day! Not that itwill make any great matter in the long run, perhaps, for it is noquestion of a single battle for either Levis or Murray, it is thearrival of the first ships which will decide this affair. Waituntil they come up, and then it will be time enough to talk ofvictory."
The lad's face fell. "I mean for ourselves," he said, wistfully;"this can't go on with us on different sides."
"That is a serious matter for the principals, no doubt, Kit; butwe need not worry over it, for I am not likely to be exchanged,the way things now are."
"But when it is decided?"
"Your way, Kit?"
"I mean _if_ it is decided our way," he corrected. "You will comeback?"
"Come back to what? You forget I am still a proscribed rebel witha price on my head."
"But that is long past."
"So Dr. Archie Cameron thought, but they hanged him like a dog notso many years ago, and I do not know that he was deeper in theaffair than I. That I am not a very ardent rebel, I will confess;but I have grown too old in rebellion to shift my character readily.Besides, I fancy I am more of a Frenchman than an Englishman, oreven a Scotchman; and the worst of such a transmogrification is,that one grows used to it, and change becomes wellnigh impossible.But you have chosen wisely, my boy. I wouldn't have you differentfor the world!"
"It is not for myself I speak. I am thinking of you, sir."
"God bless you, Kit! I would rather have those words from you thana free pardon. And now good-night, or rather, good-day. You haveyour duties before you, and I must get some sleep;" and I embracedthe generous boy with a full heart.
The next afternoon I set out to look over the town and mark theeffect of the English fire during the bombardment, and could notbut admire how destructive it had been, nor withhold my approvalof the efforts the garrison had put forth during the past winterto repair the results of their own handiwork.
As I wandered round the Cape I caught sight of le pere Jean leaningagainst the parapet of la batterie du Clerge, gloomily surveyingthe dismal prospect of a river full of drifting ice and a desolateand half-frozen country beyond.
He turned as I approached, and greeted me with a return of themanner that was once habitual with him. "I was glad to hear youfound friends last night, Chevalier."
"Thank you, yes. I found friends both new and old," I answered,glancing at him curiously.
But he had turned towards the river again, and waved his handoutward. "This is all emblematic of our fortress, I fear--dissolution," he said, wearily.
"One might descant on the promise of spring and the renewal ofhope, but in reality I gather as little from the prospect as youdo," I returned. And side by side we leaned over the parapet, andcontinued to indulge our cheerless speculations in silence.
"Chevalier," said the priest, suddenly, but in his usual tone, andwithout changing his position, "perhaps I owe you a more formalapology than was possible last night; but when I found thatMademoiselle Nairn--"
"Mme. de St. Just," I corrected.
"It is scarce worth while to keep up that fiction between us," hesaid, as if waiving the most ordinary form in the world, and insome manner I checked the cry of astonishment that was on my lips,and remained silent while he continued. "When I found MademoiselleNairn in your company, I too hastily assumed that it was by designon your part."
I was so bewildered by this unconscious revelation that I couldmake no reply; but, fortunately, he did not mark my agitation, andwent on as though speaking to himself: "Right or wrong, I have beenthe means of keeping her from you thus far; and if I have sinnedin so doing, I must bear the consequence."
As he spake he turned and faced me, but by this I had recoveredcommand of myself, and saw that his thin face was flushed and drawnwith suffering. "Let me go on," he said, with decision. "I owe anexplanation to myself as well as to you."
Just what he said I cannot clearly recall. The revelation he hadmade was so astounding, had so completely changed the whole complexionof my outlook, that my brain could scarce apprehend the import ofhis words. I only realised that Margaret was no longer beyond myreach. The rest mattered not one whit.
When he ceased speaking, I briefly exposed what had been my positionthroughout, without reserve or argument, leaving it to him to drawhis own conclusion.
"Chevalier," cried the priest, heartily, as I ended, "I feel thatany apology would be frivolous in the face of what you have toldme, but I can assure you no man was ever more satisfied to findhimself in the wrong than I."
"I take that as more than any apology," I returned, as sincerely."But to return to Sarennes. What use did he make of my letter?"
"He attempted such a use that the outcome of your meeting with himis fully justified."
"It was justified as it was!" I objected. "I do not fight on trifles.Do you mean, he tried to persuade Margaret that it referred toher?"
"He did. And though I was enabled to save her from personal danger,I could do nothing to relieve the distress he had wrought by thesemeans."
"The hound! It would have been a satisfaction to have known thiswhen I met him."
"Remember, though, it is entirely owing to the loyalty of his motherand sister that her position here has been possible."
"That is true; but I see as clearly, that her reception by themwas only possible through your answering for her. I owe youeverything."
"You owe me much," he said, quietly, as if to himself. And at thesimple words of self-abnegation my heart ached at the thought ofthe pain I had involuntarily caused.
"I am sorry for any family that holds so black a sheep as Sarennes,"I said, to break the awkward pause that followed.
"His family need know nothing, beyond that he died on the field ofbattle, a much more desirable fate than he was likely to meet within France, had he lived; for, believe me, information has goneforward that will insure the trial and, I trust, the punishment ofevery peculator who has helped to ruin this miserable colony, nomatter which way the present crisis may turn."
"Now that we have confidence in each other, may I ask why you neverlet me know of your presence in Canada?"
"To be frank, I had no desire to awaken old associations. So faras I knew the past was a book that had been read and done with.Nothing was to be gained by reopening it under the same conditions,and I had no reason to suppose they could be altered. Remember itis only now my eyes have been opened, and I see the error of mywarped and ignorant judgment. We have travelled a long road,Chevalier, to meet in friendship, and I am glad we can so meet atlast. I always regret when my feeling towards an honourable mancannot go beyond mere liking."
"Gaston," I cried, "I never received so handsome a compliment inall my life!"