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CHAPTER XIV.
JOHN AND CaeSAR.
At four o'clock in the afternoon on the following day Mrs. Dubois sat in the Madonna room. Her fingers were employed upon a bit of exquisite embroidery, over which she bent with a contracted brow, as if her mind was filled with anxious thought.
Adele, robed in a French silk of delicate blue, her rich, dark hair looped up in ma.s.sive braids, sat listlessly, poring over a volume of old French romance.
Suddenly rising, she threw it hastily aside, exclaiming as she went towards an open window, "O! this interminable drought! It makes me feel so miserable and restless. Does it not oppress you, _ma chere mere?_"
Mrs. Dubois started suddenly, as Adele spoke.
"Ah! yes. It is very wearisome", she replied.
"_Ma mere_, I have disturbed you. Of what were you thinking when I spoke?"
"Thinking of the chateau de Rossillon and its inmates. It is very long since we have had news of them. I am much troubled about the dear friends. It would be like rain on the parched ground, could I once more hear my uncle's voice. The good, kind old man!"
"Never fear, _ma mere_. You shall hear it. I have a plan that will soon take us all to Picardy. You smile, but do I not accomplish my little schemes? Do not ask me, please, how I shall do it. The expedition is not wholly matured".
"Not wholly matured, indeed!" said Mrs. Dubois, with an incredulous smile.
"Nevertheless, it will take place, _ma mere_. But not this week. In the mean time, I am going to invite the gentlemen, who are doubtless moping in Mr. Brown's room, as we are here, to come in and examine that curiously illuminated missal of yours. How agreeable Mr. Brown is, now that he is getting well! Don't you think so? And Mr. Norton is as good and radiant as a seraph! No doubt, they are pining with homesickness, just as you are, and will be glad of our society".
Adele left the room, and soon returned, accompanied by the two individuals, of whom she had gone in search.
She placed Mr. Brown, who looked quite superb in his brilliantly flowered dressing-gown, in a corner of a sofa. Having examined the missal with interest, for a time, he handed it to Mr. Norton, and was soon engaged in an animated conversation with Mrs. Dubois, respecting various works of ancient art, they had both seen in Europe.
Adele watched with pleasure the light kindling in her mother's eyes, as she went back, in memory and thought, to other days.
Mr. Norton gazed at his friend Brown, transfigured suddenly from the despairing invalid, who had lost all interest in life, to the animated being before him, with traces indeed of languor and disease upon his person, but glowing now with life, thought, and emotion. "A precious jewel gathered for the crown of Him, who sits on the throne above", he whispered to himself.
Felicitating himself with this thought, he divided his attention between the conversation of Mrs. Dubois and Mr. Brown, and the marvels of skill, labor, and beauty traced by the old monk upon the pages before him.
"I must say, Miss Adele, that these lines and colors are put on most ingeniously. But I cannot help thinking those ancient men might have been better employed in tracing the characters of divine truth upon the hearts of their fellow-beings".
"True", said Adele, "had they been free to do it. But they were shut up from the world and could not. Illuminating missals was far better than to pa.s.s their lives in perfect idleness and inanition".
"Don't you think, my dear", said the missionary, who had wisely never before questioned any member of the family on the points of religious faith, "that the cloister life was a strange one to live, for men who professed to have the love of G.o.d in their hearts, with a whole world lying in sin around them, for a field to labor in?"
"Yes, I do, and I think too many other things are wrong about the Roman Church, but it pains my mother to hear me speak of them", said Adele, in a low tone, glancing at her mother.
"Is it so?" exclaimed the good man. His face lighted up with a secret satisfaction. But he fixed his eyes upon the book and was silent.
Just then, some one knocked on the parlor door. Adele opened it and beheld Mrs. McNab,--her broad figure adorned with the brilliant chintz dress and yellow bandanna handkerchief, filling up the entire doorway, and her face surrounded by the wide, full frill, its usual framework, expressing a curious mixture of shyness and audacity.
It was her first call at the house, since Adele's summary process of ejection had been served upon her, and it was not until that young lady had welcomed her cordially and invited her to come in, that she ventured beyond the threshold. She then came forward, made a low courtesy, and seating herself near the door, remarked that Bess was not below, and hearing voices in the picture parlor, wishing to hear from the patient, she had ventured up.
"An' how do ye find yersel' Mr. Brown?" said she, turning to that gentleman. "But I needna ask the question, sin' yer looks tell ye're amaist weel".
Mr. Brown a.s.sented to her remark upon his health, and expressed to her his obligations for her attentions to him during his illness.
"Them's naethin;" she replied with a conscious air of benevolence.
"'Tis the buzziness o' my life to tak' care o' sick bodies".
"How are Mrs. Campbell's children?" inquired Mrs. Dubois.
"All got weel, but Katy. She's mizerble eneugh".
"Has she not recovered from the measles, Mrs. McNab?"
"The measles are gone, but sunthin' has settled on her lights. She coughs like a woodchuck. An' I must be a goin', for I tole Mrs.
Cawmell, I wadna stay a bit, but wad come back, immediate".
As she rose to go, she caught a sight of several objects on the lawn below, that rooted her to the spot.
"Why ther's Mummychog", she exclaimed, "leading a gran' black charger, wi' a tall brave youth a walkin' by his side. Wha can he be?"
At that moment a low, clear laugh rang out upon the air, reaching the ears of the little company a.s.sembled in the parlor.
At the sound, Mr. Brown's pale face changed to a perfectly ashen hue, then flushed to a deep crimson. He started to his feet, and exclaimed, "John Lansdowne! brave fellow!"
It was even so. John and Caesar had reached their destination.
CHAPTER XV.
TRAVELLING IN NEW BRUNSWICK.
The following morning, Mr. Norton, Mr. Somers, alias Mr. Brown and John Lansdowne were sitting together, talking of the route from ---- to Miramichi.
"You must have had a tedious journey, Mr. Lansdowne", observed the missionary.
"By no means, sir. Never had a more glorious time in my life. The reach through the forest was magnificent. By the way, Ned, I shot a wolf. I'll tell you how it was, sometime. But how soon shall you feel able to start for home?"
"In two or three weeks, Dr. Wright says", replied Mr. Somers.
"You must not take the road again, young gentleman", remarked Mr.
Norton, "until we have had a fall of rain. The country is scorched with heat beyond anything I ever knew. Fine scenery on the St. John River, Mr. Lansdowne".
"Wonderfully fine and varied! Like the unfolding of a splendid panorama! In fact, it nearly consoled me for the sleepless nights and horribly cooked dinners".
"Ah! well--. I've had some experience while pa.s.sing up and down in these parts. In some localities, the country is pretty well populated", said Mr. Norton with a broad smile.
"I can certify to that geographical fact", said John, laughing. "One night, after retiring, I found that a large and active family of mice had taken previous shares in the straw cot furnished me. A stirring time, they had, I a.s.sure you. The following night, I was roused up from a ten horse-power slumber, by a little million of enterprising insects,--well,--their style of locomotion, though irregular, accomplishes remarkable results. By the way, I doubt that story of a pair of fleas, harnessed into a tiny chariot and broken into a trot".