CHAPTER XIX

ON THE ISLE AUX COUDRES

Now that the beacon was fairly alight my purpose was accomplished, and I was free to return to the house; but the night was warm, there was no sound save the lapping of the rising tide, or the short quick puff of some slowly turning porpoise from out the darkness beyond, and I stood there for what I suppose was a long time, held by the spell of the perfect quiet. At length I roused myself, and began to retrace my steps, but as I gained the line of the pine wood I turned aside and stood a moment for a last look at the friendly beacon flaring up into the darkness. The loud crackle of the wood seemed like joyous cries of encouragement, and the strong ruddy flame filled me with a fresh confidence. On the morrow, if Gabriel should appear, I would announce our departure for Quebec, and once there would place myself under the protection of M. de Montcalm until...

"Oh, Heaven!" I almost screamed, for I heard footsteps hurriedly approaching, and had only time to withdraw more completely into the shadow of the trees when Luntook, the Indian, came running down the path, and in an instant scattered the fire on all sides, hurling the blazing brands over the cliff and covering up the embers until not a spark remained.

When the fire was completely extinguished he looked about him slowly, while I cowered there in mortal terror, believing he would immediately search for and certainly discover me; but, to my surprise, he walked silently past my shelter and kept his way along the path.

I was simply paralysed with fear. I could not have screamed or made a move had my life depended on it; the very presence of the man struck terror to my soul, for he seemed the personification of all the possibility of evil in his master. He it was, I well knew, who would carry out any violence which might be determined against me, and the fact of his remaining about the place when his master was supposed to have left, filled me with alarm. I was persuaded I was to be carried off, perhaps on the morrow, and the priest's warning came back to me with renewed insistence.

My burden of fear so grew upon me that I dared not remain within the shadow of the wood, for every sound in its depths shook me with a new terror, and every moment I imagined I could feel the Indian stealing nearer me in the darkness. I dared not look behind me, I dared hardly move forward, but my dread of the wood was greater than that of the open beach, and I somehow managed to clamber down the cliff and took shelter behind a great bowlder, where I could hear the soothing ripple of the water and feel the soft wind against my face. It brought a sense of being removed from the land and men; I was more alone, but I felt safer.

The chill of the night struck through me to the bone, and I was burdened with its length; it seemed as if time were standing still. But at last I was roused by the hoarse call of birds passing high overhead, and saw the sky was paling in the east. Slowly, slowly the gray dawn came, trees began to detach themselves and stand out against the sky, rocks took a vague form against the sands, the wicker lines of the fishery grew distinct in the receding waters, while white wreaths of mist rose smoke-like from the Little River.

Slowly, slowly grew the glory in the east, and when at length the first beams of the sun struck strong and clear across the bay, making a shining pathway to my very feet, it seemed so actually a Heaven-sent way of escape that, trembling in every limb, I rose and staggered forward as if it were possible to tread it; and then, recovering my distracted senses, I fell to crying like a child.

The tears brought relief, and I began to bestir myself, to move about quickly, until I could feel my stiffened limbs again, and recovered some sense of warmth. I did not dare to leave the open security of the beach until the sun was higher, when I wandered out to the extreme end of the sands, looking anxiously for some answer to my signal from the Isle aux Coudres, but the opposite shore, was hidden by a close bank of white cloud, broken only by the rounded tops of the mountains above Les Eboulements. Presently the cloud began to lift and scatter, and I could make out the island lying low and dun against the higher main-land. But no answering smoke broke the clear morning air; indeed, it seemed impossible that my signal, which had not burned for an hour at most, could be seen at such a distance. I turned away with an empty heart, when I caught sight of a boat standing up close inshore, her sails filled with the freshening morning breeze.

The mere presence of a means of escape changed everything in a moment. I was filled with a new courage, and climbing to the top of the outermost bowlder, I drew the long white scarf from my neck and waved it to and fro above my head. To my intense joy, I was answered by the boat hauling round, and lowering and raising the point of one of her sails--the same signal I had seen Gabriel make to M. de Montcalm off Cap Tourmente. It was Gabriel himself! his signal assured me of it; and at the sight the morning took on a new glory, for the terror and bitterness of the night had passed as I watched the boat as my deliverance hastening towards me.

As she came on, I made out Gabriel distinctly, and before long the boat was lying motionless, Gabriel had his shallop over the side, and a moment later was splashing through the shallow water, and bowing as though he had parted from me only yesterday.

"'Bon chien chasse de race,' madame. I was cruising about, as I always am, ready for the first ship which appears, when I saw the light; and though it did not burn long enough for a signal, I thought it well to look it up; and now, madame, I am at your orders, as I promised. I was sure you would want me some day."

"Oh, Gabriel, I do want you! I never stood in greater need. Take me on board, and I will tell you."

He showed no surprise at my demand, but merely repeating his favourite proverb, "ce que femme vent, Dieu le veut," lifted me in his arms like a child, and carried me through mud and water, and set me in his shallop, when a few strokes brought as alongside the boat, and I was in safety on her deck. Then the sails were once more set, and we stood away from the shore and up the river.

He did not question me, nor, indeed, would he allow me to speak, until he had provided a hot drink of some sweetened spirit, which brought back the glow to my blood, and then he set about preparing breakfast, keeping up an incessant chatter the while, until he had me laughing at his flow of talk.

"Aha! That is better!" he exclaimed, joyfully. "Now, madame, what are your orders?"

"Can you take me to Quebec?"

"I can--but--" and his face lengthened.

"But what?"

"Well, madame, to be truthful, I am expecting the first ships every day now; they are late as it is; and if I am off the ground, why, then the bread must drop into some one else's basket! That is all."

"I can pay you well for what you may lose in this way."

"It is not only the money, madame, 'l'argent est rond et ca roule,' but I have always brought up the first ship since I was twenty, and that was not last Sunday, as one may guess. Yet, if madame says so, I am at her orders."

"I do not know what to say, Gabriel. I will not return to Beaulieu, and though I want to reach Quebec, I am unwilling you should miss your ship; but I certainly cannot remain on board here while you are with her."

"Bedame! I have a plan, if it will answer. We are at no distance from the Island, my good wife is alone, as usual, and, if I do not ask too much, could you not put up with her for a week or two at most until I pick up my ship, and then the trick is done? Our house is clean, my wife is the best of managers, and will do everything to make you comfortable."

"That will answer admirably, Gabriel."

"Good! Madame, I can also return to Beaulieu and fetch your woman and such things as you may desire."

For the first time I remembered Lucy, and was filled with remorse at the thought of my desertion of her. What could I do? To send word back to Beaulieu now would be to betray my retreat; and what explanation could I offer to my kindly hosts?

Gabriel, with ready tact, saw my distress.

"Pardon, madame; I am not asking questions; I am not even thinking them. You shall come and go as you like with me and mine, and no one shall dare to do aught but obey you. If my plan does not suit, say so freely, madame, and we will go on to Quebec without another thought, and the King's ship must wait, or go on with such bungler as she may find."

"No, no, Gabriel; I will not have it so. I can remain on the Island for a week as well as not, and, in fact, will do nothing else. That is settled. And, Gabriel, because you are a brave and loyal man I shall trust you further--I do not wish any one to know where I am while on the Island, unless I can get word to le pere Jean."

"Oh, as for that, you are going to meet him; for he is due on the Island even now. He always comes about this time to see what is left of us after the winter."

"Then I am quite satisfied. Now tell me, have you any news from Louisbourg?"

"Nothing, madame; no ship has come up yet; but it will not be long before we hear now."

"Then I shall expect to hear when you return for me."

"You will, madame; depend upon it, I will bring you news. And now, if I may offer a counsel, which I am sure is wise, I would say, madame, that you should lie down and try to sleep."

The advice was as welcome as it was wise, and it was not long ere I carried it out.

When I awoke, it was well on in the afternoon, and we were close inshore.

"Yes, madame, it is the Island. There is my house--the one with the flag-staff. See, my good woman has the signal flying for me. I can never come within reach without her scenting me out."

There was a fine pride in his words, and his house was worthy of it. A clean, honest, white face it presented, framed in young hop-vines carefully trained up the low curving roof, and set in a garden which already gave promise of much bloom. His wife, a plump, comely woman, waited for us at the landing-place.

"Ma bonne amie!" said Gabriel, embracing her. "Madame de St. Just has crossed with me from Beaulieu to await le pere Jean here, and will stay with you until he comes."

"Your servant, madame," she answered, with a neat courtesy. "If my good man had let me know you were coming, I would have been better prepared."

"'Qui n'a, ne peut,' ma bonne femme. You will do your best, and madame will not ask for more. Had she known of her coming herself, she would have travelled with her servant, as she is used; but she comes alone, because she has great need, and I assured her you would be proud to do all you can for her sake."

"So I will, madame; do not let my husband make you believe I am not more than pleased to have you in my poor house. You do us too much honour in asking it. Come, madame, let me shew you the way."

The house lost nothing of its charm on a nearer approach, and its interior spake volumes for its keeper's cleanliness--not a common quality in the country, as I discovered later. The furniture was of the simplest description, but the well-scrubbed floor was covered with bright-coloured strips of home-made carpeting--"les catalogues," as she called it--and in one corner stood the pride of the family, the great bed--a huge construction, covered with a marvellous quilt of patchwork, and hung with spotless valance and curtains.

Gabriel was to set off by the next tide, and left only after charging his Amelia with numberless instructions as to my care and comfort.

"Oh, these men!" laughed the good-natured woman. "They think the world can't turn round without their advice!"

I was too tired and too safe not to sleep well, and when the smiling face of Madame Dufour appeared at my bedside in the morning, it was to inform me that le pere Jean's canoe was already in sight, and he would be at the Island in less than an hour.

Eager as I was to see him, I could not but dread the meeting and what he might say of my desertion, though I begged my hostess to meet him and tell him I was awaiting his leisure.

"Oh, mon pere, I did not know what to do!" I cried, when we were alone.

"Thank God you are safe and in good hands," he returned, warmly. "How was it you came to take this step?"

Thereupon I told him of my attempt to signal for Gabriel, of the appearance of Luntook, of my terror, and of my sudden resolve on the pilot's appearance. "It was only when I felt myself safe, mon pere, that I remembered what my action might mean to others; and now I am miserable at the thought of the anxiety I have caused. What can be done?"

"I cannot blame you, my daughter; you have been brought face to face with dangers you know nothing of, in surroundings which are strange to you; it is well for your own sake you should be removed from the constant dread of their recurrence. I guessed at your destination, for on landing the same morning you left, Andre and I saw the beacon had been lighted, and a very little looking about convinced us of what had happened, for we not only found your scarf, but Gabriel's marks in the sand were plain directions."

"But, mon pere, what of them at the house?"

"It is a time of war, my daughter," he returned, smiling. "More than one person is moving about the country in a mysterious way; much greater freedom is allowed; and when I explained to Mme. de Sarennes that you were in my care, and it was necessary you should be absent for a time, she was satisfied with my word, and bade your woman make up a packet of necessaries for you, which Andre will bring presently. You cannot do better than remain where you are until I can arrange for your woman to meet you and go on to Quebec together. I soon shall know what opportunity offers for a passage to France, which will be somewhat uncertain now, as the English who wintered at Halifax are at sea again; but there is time enough to decide; the whole summer is before us."

And all this without a word, without a look of reproach; how my heart went out to him for his forbearance!

At length I asked the question which was always with me: "Mon pere, is there any news?"

"From Louisbourg? Nothing that is hopeful. A more formidable fleet than ever before has left England; we cannot expect any succour from France; and Louisbourg is probably invested by this time, if the enemy have made good their landing. Before another month the matter will be pushed to an issue, and it will be against us, unless the place can be relieved."

Where the expected relief was to come from I did not dare to ask, as I could not doubt but that M. de Sarennes was an important factor in the plan.

Le pere Jean had manifold duties to perform during his short stay; impatient couples were married, children were baptised, and many an anxious heart relieved of the burthen which it had borne alone through the long imprisonment of the winter. He did not suffer me to remain idle either, for he gathered the children about him, and showed me how to instruct them in the elements of our faith.

"Here is your work," he said, smiling. "You have your education and sympathy on the one hand, and on the other are these little black and brown heads--Bergerons, Tremblays, Gauthiers, and so on--to be filled with some measure of the grace which God intended for each of them. It will be a comfort to me to think of them in your hands while I am sent on my Master's business, often into paths not of my own choosing. Do not on any account be tempted to leave here until I come or send for you. Even if M. de Sarennes should appear, be under no apprehension, for all you need do is to tell Mme. Dufour, and it will be a delight to her to balk his plans, as there is no love lost between these Islanders and the people of the main-land."

"I will do my best, mon pere. When may I look for your return?"

"I cannot tell, perhaps in a month or so; but do not let that disturb you; for, even if I am prevented, I will surely send you word what to do. Seek your quiet in your daily task, and your comfort in prayer."

So he took his way, leaving me in such content as was possible. Had I dared I would have questioned him about the letter, but I could not bring myself to acknowledge this humiliation, even to him. I felt it so keenly, that I no longer wondered my tormentor had felt himself free to make any proposal, when it was but to one whom he believed to be the discarded wife of another, and I found a new misery in vain imaginings of what had been written to call forth so heartless a reply. I would comfort myself at one moment by thinking it was not intended for me, only to be met by the alternative of Hugh being married to another. Turn which way I might, I could frame no explanation which brought any comfort. If the letter were for me, then had no man ever betrayed love more cruelly; if for another, then I had thrown away my life.

My work with the children was the greatest boon which could have been granted me; it kept me sane and healthy, and my heart went out to the little ignorant souls so full of life and affection. It was no task; it was a welcome labour of love; and the children saw and felt it as such; on their side, their little feet were never too weary nor their little hands too tired to respond to any service I might ask of them.

But despite their love and the unfailing kindness of Mme. Dufour, it was impossible to escape from my pain. My daily refuge was the altar of the little church, where night and morn, often in company of some other lonely woman anxious for the safety of son or husband far at sea, I laid bare my soul in an agony of supplication for the safety of the one dear to me above all others; and I found support, too, in the thought of the devoted priest pursuing his lonely way, consecrating his life and effort for others, most of whom made no return, for they knew not the greatness of his sacrifice.

The rumours that reached us during the next two months brought no assuagement to our fears, and when le pere Jean came, towards the middle of August, men, women, and children gathered on the beach to welcome him. His white, worn face and wearied bearing told his message before he spake a word, and my heart failed me at the sight.

With his unfailing consideration, he turned to me the moment he saw my distress. "Le Chevalier de Maxwell is safe; he escaped the night the capitulation was signed," he whispered, and then turned with his news towards the anxious people.

Like one afar off I heard him tell of the long siege, of the hardships endured, the courage displayed, the surrender of the ruined fortress, and the removal of the garrison to the ships of war; but in the selfishness of love my heart was too full of gratitude to have understanding for aught else.

When the story was ended, and the eager questioners answered, he turned to me again, and, inviting me to follow, we took our way towards the church.

"You are anxious to hear more," he said, gently. "Let me tell you all I know. M. de Maxwell left the town only after the capitulation was reluctantly agreed to by M. de Drucour, who, with all his officers, had protested against it, and would willingly have held out even beyond hope. He ran the gantlet of the batteries the whole length of the harbour in safety; he was at Miramichi only two days before I arrived there, and took command of some Canadians in charge of a number of English prisoners to lead them to Quebec. So you may comfort yourself with the thought of his safety, and that your prayers have been answered."

"What will happen now, mon pere?"

"That is impossible to say; except that the English will certainly push every advantage they have gained, and, unless substantial help comes from without, the outlook is desperate."

"Did no help come to Louisbourg, mon pere?"

"None," he answered; and the one word sank into my heart like a knell. He parted from me at the church door, and I wandered down to the beach alone.

The loss of Louisbourg, as even I could see, might mean the loss of Canada, and, in the priest's eyes at least, its loss was due not so much to the weakness of the garrison as to the failure of the relief, and this relief could have come only by the man who had withstood his commands, holding out a shameful condition as the price of his obedience. Whether le pere Jean was right or wrong I could not judge, but I surely knew he could but lay the source of this dishonour to the wilful act of the woman he had rescued and befriended in her hour of need.

The news of the gallant defence of Carillon went far to offset the disaster of Louisbourg, but not to allay our anxiety, and September was a trying month for us all; but Gabriel visited us twice, and was unshaken in his confidence.

"Time enough to cry out when we are beaten, madame. We have held them back at Carillon, and will do so again, if need be; they have been beaten in the Upper Country before this, and they will be clever indeed if they can come up the river."

"They did so once before, Gabriel."

"'Une fois n'est pas coutume,' madame; pilots cannot be picked up like pease."

I expected word from le pere Jean every day, and awaited it with conflicting feelings. I was most anxious to know the truth about Hugh, and yet to meet him was past my desire, if he were really married. Should that prove the case, then I would use my utmost effort to return to France without his knowing I had ever been in the country. Should he discover it, then I must bear the humiliation as best I might; but I could not bring myself to go away, and perhaps wreck my future as well as his, through a misunderstanding. I felt I had gone too far, had suffered too much, to throw it all away when the truth was within my reach.

In the beginning of October Gabriel came with the expected letter from le pere Jean. Mme. de Sarennes and Angelique had gone on to Quebec to spend the winter there, and I was expected to join them whenever it might be convenient. I took affectionate farewells of my good friend, Mme. Dufour, and the infant population of the parish, and set forth with Gabriel. We made a grand run of it, and were in full view of the town before the sun had quite set. I had seen no place, except perhaps Edinburgh, with which I could compare it, and Quebec gained in the comparison. Gabriel saw my admiration, and was delighted.

"Look at it well, madame; it is the gate of the finest country le bon Dieu ever created, and we hold the key! No man need have a faint heart when he can look on Quebec. See the little fort there on the top of the Cape! It was made to signal a King's ships only. See the Chateau where it stands! It looks like the Governor himself. See the steeples of the Cathedral, of the Jesuits, of the Recollets! See the convents and the hospitals! It is like the Holy City of God! And then talk, if one can, of it falling into the hands of 'les goddams' and 'les Bostonnais.' Bah! It is impossible! If not, what is the use of going to church on Sunday?"

Truly he had every excuse for his pride; and when I looked on the majestic river, barred by the mighty cliff with its glittering crown of roofs and spires overlooking the beautiful sweep of the St. Charles, I felt that his outburst was more of a declaration than a boast.

I disembarked with a light heart, and, guided by Gabriel, climbed the steep ascent to the Haute Ville, at the head of which stood the Sarennes house, there to receive a welcome from Mme. de Sarennes and Angelique, for which none but a daughter and a sister might look.