CHAPTER XVII

I FIND MYSELF IN A FALSE POSITION

The rest of the week passed quickly, in one sense, though every hour of it dragged for me. I was burning with impatience to hear M. de Sarennes speak some word of his intended departure, and yet could not bring myself to put the ungracious question, when I saw the dear pleasure his stay meant to his mother. Never had I seen more tender, respectful attention than that with which he surrounded her. He would sit by her for hours listening to her tales of his father, or relating his own adventures and successes against the English.

"Have a care, my son," she would say, with an anxiety, not unmixed with pride; "they will not forget these things. They may try to work us evil for them some day."

"No fear, ma mere! not while I am by to defend you," he would answer, with a protecting love that redeemed his confidence from bravado.

He accompanied Angelique and me on all our walks, explaining to us the simpler mysteries of his wonderful woodcraft, and keenly enjoying our ready admiration. But my mind was uneasy. With the assuredness of a man accustomed to facile conquest, he pressed his attentions upon me in a manner to which I was unaccustomed, greatly to my embarrassment.

No woman of my day could, in ordinary circumstances, be at a loss to interpret any attentions she might receive. In our world, gallantry was a science well understood; as exact as war, its every move had its meaning; its rules were rigidly defined, and no one ever thought of transgressing them; so there reigned a freedom which made society a pleasure, and the intercourse with men was exactly what one chose it should be.

But now, I was brought face to face with a man who, whatever might be his birth, had neither breeding nor education; who was accustomed to see his desire and attain it, if possible; who could not understand that freedom was a compliment to his quality, not an acknowledgment of his personality; and who, in consequence, misinterpreted mere courtesies in a sense humiliating to the bestower.

Our life was necessarily so intimate, my need of his good-will so great, and my regard for his mother and sister so warm, that I was bound to conceal my annoyance; but at length he forced me to a declaration, when, hoping that frankness might avail me better than evasion, I spake so plainly that I left him in no doubt as to the manner in which I received his attentions. He resented it with all the bitterness of a man unaccustomed to rebuke, and my heart failed me as I thought of the weeks I must pass in his company.

This made me the more anxious to push matters to a conclusion, and my opportunity came one afternoon, when Angelique snapped the end of her snow-shoe, and was forced to return, leaving us to finish our walk together.

We moved on in silence for some time before I could summon up courage to venture the question on which I felt so much depended.

"Have you decided on your return to Louisbourg, monsieur?"

"I must first go to Quebec and report to M. de Montcalm," he began, in an ordinary voice, and then, to my surprise, he suddenly broke into invective. "We have a new order here now; everything must be reported in a quarter where nothing is known of the needs of the country, or the character of the service. If those idiots in Paris would only mind matters in their own country and leave Canada to those who know it best, if they would send us troops and not generals, if they would send us money and not priests, we should do better. What can you expect of men who think of nothing but parade and their own precious dignity? Who never speak of a Canadian but with derision? But I forgot. Madame is too recently from Paris herself to take an interest in such matters; to her, doubtless, we are all 'colonists,' and M. de Montcalm is Pope and King."

He stopped and faced me at his last words, and though not unprepared for some outburst, I was appalled at the fierceness of his tone and the bitterness he threw into his charge. Before I could reply, he went on:

"My sister has handed me the orders which M. le Marquis de Montcalm et de St. Veran, has been pleased to lay on my mother and myself concerning you, but she tells me nothing of your friends in Louisbourg. May I ask whom you would join there?"

"M. de Sarennes, your mother and sister have treated me with a consideration beyond words. They have subjected me to no questionings, to no inquiries, beyond what I have chosen to reveal myself, and surely I can look for the same courtesy from you."

"O, madame, madame--I am no courtier from Versailles. Your M. de Montcalm will probably tell you I am a mere 'coureur de bois,' and, if that be the case, you must lay it to my condition if I ask again: Who is it you go to meet in Louisbourg? Is it, by chance, Mme. de St. Julhien?"

I remembered the Chevalier de St. Julhien was Hugh's colonel, and eagerly caught at the opening, for I had begun to be seriously frightened.

"Yes, monsieur, since you must know, it is Mme. de St. Julhien."

"Oh, ho! ho! Nom de Ciel! But that is a good one!" He roared like a peasant, and I almost screamed in terror. "That is a good one! I have been in and out of Louisbourg for the last ten years and more, and I have yet to hear of a Mme. de St. Julhien. Come, come, ma belle! I'll wager my head you are no more Mme. de St. Just, than I am. You have been playing a pretty comedy to these simple spectators, who were too scrupulous to venture a question. It took the barbarous coureur de bois to see through the paint! There! There! Don't look so frightened. I can guess, readily enough, what brings a pretty woman to the walls of a garrison town."

Oh, the shame, the miserable shame and degradation which overwhelmed me at the brutal insinuations of this well-born clown! And, to crown it all, he stepped close beside me, and before I had a suspicion of his intent, he threw his arms about my waist and kissed me.

"You wretch! you cowardly hound!" I cried, beside myself at this last insult. "How dare you treat me thus? I will appeal to M. de Montcalm, and you shall rue this day beyond any you have ever lived. I will appeal to your mother--"

"O, la, la, la, my charming little Mme. Je-Ne-Sais-Quoi, you can complain to M. de Montcalm when you see him. As for my mother, I hardly imagine you will dare to tell her anything which will not excuse my action. But come, madame, we are not getting on with our conversation at all. Believe me, I am not a bad fellow at bottom. Tell me who it is you are really going to meet in Louisbourg, and we shall see if it be not possible to further your plans."

"Let me go, M. de Sarennes, let me go!" I implored.

"Now, madame, let us talk sensibly. Consider how awkward it may be if I have to pursue these inquiries before others. In any event, I can guess fairly well. Let us see: Madame is an Englishwoman; is well born, wealthy, and, if she will not resent my saying so, is of a certain age. Good! Monsieur is an Englishman; well born, poor, and also of a suitable age. Good! Monsieur is unfortunate in his present position; is practically in exile. Madame comes overseas alone, save for a chance waiting-woman she picks up. Why? Surely not for the delights of travel. Monsieur's name is Le Chevalier Maxwell de Kirkconnel. Madame's name is--Ma foi! I haven't the slightest idea what it is. There! madame, have I not drawn the outline of the comedy cleverly enough, for a mere coureur de bois, a mere Canadian?"

"Let me go, monsieur, let me go!"

"Tell me first, are you not Madame de Maxwell?"

"Yes, yes," I cried, in desperation, eager to seize any chance of escape.

"Then, madame, believe me, you were very foolish not to say so at once. I guessed it the very first night I saw you. Now I know the Chevalier intimately; in fact, I am under obligation to him for much good advice; but I will confess he has never seen fit to impart to me the fact of his marriage, which will be a surprise to many."

"O, monsieur, I beg of you that you will never mention it," I cried, in an agony of shame and self-reproach.

"Never, madame; believe me, it was too disappointing a piece of news in my own case, for me to have any desire to place others in the like unhappy position. But allow me first to apologise for frightening you; pardon me that I cannot look upon it as an insult; and now that I have made the amende honorable, I will go back and answer your first question. I shall start for Quebec in two days; I shall be back in a week, and then leave for Louisbourg at once, if you feel you can trust yourself with me."

I was so completely in his power that I mastered up all my courage, and replied, bravely enough: "M. de Sarennes, I cannot but believe I am safe in the charge of one whom I know as so loving a son, so fond a brother. I trust you, too, as the friend of M. de Maxwell; and I trust you, most of all, because you have learned my secret, and, being a gentleman, I believe you will not betray it."

"I don't know how far I accept the compliment, but at all events, madame, I shall say nothing of your affairs. Remember, though, it rests chiefly with you to prevent suspicion. You must keep the same free intercourse with me, and never allow my mother or sister to gather by word, or sign, that the nature of our conference to-day has been otherwise than pleasant. Now that we have come to an understanding, no doubt some news of Louisbourg will be welcome."

As he spake we turned back towards the manor; his whole bearing so changed in a moment that it was hard to believe the bright, pleasant-spoken man by my side was the same creature of rough, brutal instincts and feelings who had tortured and alarmed me so cruelly. Little by little I recovered my composure, as he told of the life in the fortress, of the probable investment by the English in the spring--if they could then muster a sufficient fleet--of M. de Drucour, of M. Prevost, and, best of all, of Hugh, though he tried to disturb my peace by hinting at some understanding between him and Madame Prevost.

"It all depends on you now, madame," he said, significantly, as he held the door open for me to enter, and fortunately I had firmness enough to control myself through the long evening and until I could gain my room.

There I broke down utterly, as I knelt beside my bed, unable to rise, or to control the sobs which shook my whole body.

Lucy was beside me in a moment.

"Dear heart! Dear heart! Let me help you," she murmured, raising me to my feet, and beginning to undress me like a child, crooning over me and quieting me with tender touches and gentle words.

"Oh, Lucy, speak to me, say something to comfort me. I am the most unhappy woman alive."

"My dear, dear mistress, no one can be so unhappy that our Father cannot comfort her. This is the time of all others when He is nearest to you. You have but to stretch forth your hand to touch His robe; you have but to open your heart to have Him come in and fill it with the Peace which passeth understanding. I am an ignorant woman, but I have this knowledge. I went through a sorrow, and what I believed to be a disgrace, helpless and alone, and knew of no comfort till He sent me His.

"I do not know your sorrow, I might not understand it if you told me, but beside this bed is standing One who knew what it was to be alone more than any other, and He is saying to you, 'Come, and I will give you rest.'"

"Dear Lucy, you are such a comfort to me. I do not understand these things in the way you do. I have never heard them so spoken of; but oh! I feel so safe while you speak!"

"Now, mistress, I will sing to you"--and she sang her sweet songs of comfort in trouble, of deliverance in danger, of love awaiting us, until my sorrow was stilled and I fell asleep.

M. de Sarennes kept his word in so far as further annoyance was concerned, but he displayed a familiarity towards me which called forth laughing comments from Angelique, and kept me constantly on the rack. At the end of the week he left on his mission to Quebec, promising to return within ten days, and charging us to prepare for our long journey.

I was at my wits' end to know what to do. I could not refuse to go with him, no matter what my distrust. I could not make any explanation to his mother or sister which would not expose me to a position I shuddered even to contemplate. Would Charles, their idol, behave towards any woman worthy of respect as he had behaved to me? I was completely in his power; no matter what he had done or might do, he had but to appear and say, "Come!" and I must follow, no matter how my heart might fail me.

All too late I realised what I had brought upon myself by my cowardly evasion of le pere Jean's commands. I had deceived myself, or rather, I had pretended to be led by outward chance, instead of honestly following our compact, and now, I was reaping my reward. That this man was in love with me I could not doubt, but it was a love that made me sick to my very soul when I thought of it. Yet, he was a gentleman, by birth at least; he was answerable to the Marquis for my safe-keeping; and no matter what uneasiness or unquiet I might suffer on the journey, he would not dare to offer me any indignity with Lucy by me and Hugh awaiting me at its end.

With this I was forced to be content, and busied myself with Angelique and Lucy in our preparations. Angelique chattered merrily, regretting she could not take the journey with us; her brother knew the woods as others knew the town; he could tell every track, whether of bird or beast; he was so cunning that no storm surprised him, and so tender he would care for us like children.

"No one is so good to women as Charles! He never gets out of patience with me or maman. Let me tell you, you are a lucky girl, 'Mademoiselle' Marguerite, to have such a beau cavalier for your escort. Really, I am jealous of your opportunity; my brother is nearly as fine a man as I am, and I am sure any woman would be proud of my attentions." Thus she ran on, while I listened, heart-sick at the thought of being in the power of that brother, whom I knew far, far better than she.

But my fortitude was not put to any test, for, on the very evening of M. de Sarennes's return, Lucy fell ill of some violent fever, and by the morning it was clear that our departure was an impossibility.

"Never mind, madame," said M. de Sarennes, evidently not ill pleased; "I can as well go to my post at Miramichi. I have business there which will detain me about a month; no doubt by that time you will be ready to start."

"Will you take a letter for Louisbourg?" I asked.

He laughed. "You are like all Paris-bred folk, madame! Miramichi is a good hundred leagues from Louisbourg as the crow flies, and more than twice that as a man can travel. No, no, madame! You must keep your letter until you can deliver it in person."

He made a pretence of laughing heartily at my discomfiture, and Angelique innocently joined in, thinking the jest to be my ignorance of the country, while my heart was bursting with indignation that he should thus make a mock of my helplessness, for he knew well what it meant to me that Hugh should be ignorant of my whereabouts.