Rose A Charlitte Part 13

"You do not know, you cannot tell," he said, "what this letter means to us."

"What does it mean?"

"It means--I do not know that I can say the word, but I will try--cor-rob-oration."

"Explain a little further, will you?"

"In the past all was for the English. Now records are being discovered, old doc.u.ments are coming to light. The guilty colonial authorities suppressed them. Now these records declare for the Acadiens."

"So--this letter, being from one on the opposite side, is valuable."

"It is like a diamond unearthed," said Agapit, turning it over; "but,"--in sudden curiosity,--"this is a copy mutilated, for the name of the captain is not here. From whom did you have it, if I am permitted to ask?"

"From the great-grandson of the old fellow mentioned."

"And he does not wish his name known?"

"Well, naturally one does not care to shout the sins of one's ancestors."

"The n.o.ble young man, the dear young man," said Agapit, warmly. "He will atone for the sins of his fathers."

"Not particularly n.o.ble, only business-like."

"And has he much money, that he wishes to aid this family of Acadiens?"

"No, not much. His father's family never succeeded in making money and keeping it. His mother is rich."

"I should like to see him," exclaimed Agapit, and his black eyes flashed over Vesper's composed features. "I should love him for his sensitive heart."

"There is nothing very interesting about him," said Vesper. "A sick, used-up creature."

"Ah,--he is delicate."

"Yes, and without courage. He is a college man and would have chosen a profession if his health had not broken down."

"I pity him from my heart; I send good wishes to his sick-bed," said Agapit, in a pa.s.sion of enthusiasm. "I will pray to our Lord to raise him."

"Can you give him any a.s.sistance?" asked Vesper, nodding towards the letter.

"I do not know; I cannot tell. There are many LeNoirs. But I will go over my papers; I will sit up at night, as I now do some writing for the post-office. You know I am poor, and obliged to work. I must pay Rose for my board. I will not depend on a woman."

Vesper half lifted his drooping eyelids. "What are you going to make of yourself?"

"I wish to study law. I save money for a period in a university."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

"Your cousin looks about that age."

"She is twenty-four,--a year older; and you,--may I ask your age?"

"Guess."

Agapit studied his face. "You are twenty-six."

"No."

"I daresay we are both younger than Rose," said Agapit, ingenuously, "and she has less sense than either."

"Did your ancestors come from the south of France?" asked Vesper, abruptly.

"Not the LeNoirs; but my mother's family was from Provence. Why do you ask?"

"You are like a Frenchman of the south."

"I know that I am impetuous," pursued Agapit. "Rose says that I resemble the tea-kettle. I boil and bubble all the time that I am not asleep, and"--uneasily--"she also says that I speak too hastily of women; that I do not esteem them as clever as they are. What do you think?"

Vesper laughed quickly. "Southerners all have a slight contempt for women. However, they are frank about it. Is there one thought agitating your bosom that you do not express?"

"No; most unfortunately. It chagrins me that I speak everything. I feel, and often speak before I feel, but what can one do? It is my nature.

Rose also follows her nature. She is beautiful, but she studies nothing, absolutely nothing, but the science of cooking."

"Without which philosophers would go mad from indigestion."

"Yes; she was born to cook and to obey. Let her keep her position, and not say, 'Agapit, thou must do so and so,' as she sometimes will, if I am not rocky with her."

"Rocky?" queried Vesper.

"Firmy, firm," said Agapit, in confusion. "The words twist in my mind, unless my blood is hot, when I speak better. Will you not correct me?

Upon going out in the world I do not wish to be laughed."

"To be laughed at," said his new friend. "Don't worry yourself. You speak well enough, and will improve."

Agapit grew pale with emotion. "Ah, but we shall miss you when you go!

There has been no Englishman here that we so liked. I hope that you will be long in finding the descendants of the Fiery Frenchman."

"Perhaps I shall find some of them in you and your cousin," said Vesper.

"Ah, if you could, what joy! what bliss!--but I fear it is not so. Our forefathers were not of Grand Pre."

Vesper relapsed into silence, only occasionally rousing himself to answer some of Agapit's restless torrent of remarks about the ancient letter. At last he grew tired, and, sitting up, laid a caressing hand on the head of Narcisse, who was playing with some sh.e.l.ls beside him.

"Come, little one, we must return to the house."

On the way back they met the blacksmith. Agapit snickered gleefully, "All the world supposes that he is making the velvet paw to Rose."

"She drives with him," said Vesper, indifferently.