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Having an Indian husband, she was accustomed to work out-of-doors, and was therefore able to dig for a long time before she became sensible of fatigue, and was obliged mutely to extend the spade to Suretta.
Not so enduring were the other women. Their ancestors had ploughed and reaped, but Acadiennes of the present day rarely work on the farms, unless it is during the haying season. Suretta soon gave out.
Mosee-Delice took her place, and Mirabelle Marie hung back until the last.
Bidiane and Claudine withdrew among the trees, stifling their laughter and trying to calm the dog, who had finally reached a state of frenzy at this mysterious separation.
"My unfortunate aunt!" murmured Bidiane; "do let us put an end to this."
Claudine was snickering convulsively. She had begun to array herself in one of the sheets, and was transported with amus.e.m.e.nt and antic.i.p.ation.
Meanwhile, doubt and discord had reared their disturbing heads among the members of the digging party. Mirabelle Marie persisted in throwing up the spade too soon, and the other women, regarding her with glowing, eloquent looks, quietly arranged that the honorable agricultural implement, now perverted to so unbecoming a use, should return to her hands with disquieting frequency.
The earth was soft here by the lake, yet it was heavy to lift out, for the hole had now become quite deep. Suddenly, to the horror and anger of Nannichette and the other two women, both of whom were beginning to have mysterious warnings and impressions that they were now on the brink of discovery of one pot of gold, and perhaps two, there was an impatient exclamation from Mirabelle Marie.
"The divil!" she cried, and her voice broke out shrilly in the deathly silence; "Bidiane was right. It ain't no speerit you saw. I'm goin',"
and she scrambled out of the hole.
With angry reproaches for her precipitancy and laziness, the other women fell upon her with their tongues. She had given them this long walk to the lake, she had spoiled everything, and, as their furious voices smote the still air, Bidiane, Claudine, and the dog emerged slowly and decently from the heavy gloom behind them like ghosts rising from the lake.
"I will give you a bit of my sheet," Bidiane had said to Bastarache; consequently he stalked beside them like a diminutive bogey in a graceful mantle of white.
"_Ah, mon jheu! chesque j'vois?_" (what do I see), screamed Suretta, who was the first to catch sight of them. "Ten candles to the Virgin if I get out of this!" and she ran like a startled deer.
With various expressions of terror, the others followed her. They carried with them the appearance of the white ethereal figures, standing against the awful black background of the trees, and as they ran, their shrieks and yells of horror, particularly those from Mirabelle Marie, were so heartrending that Bidiane, in sudden compunction, screamed to her, "Don't you know me, my aunt? It is Bidiane, your niece. Don't be afraid!"
Mirabelle Marie was making so much noise herself that she could scarcely have heard a trumpet sounding in her ears, and fear lent her wings of such extraordinary vigor in flight that she was almost immediately out of sight.
Bidiane turned to the dog, who was tripping and stumbling inside his snowy drapery, and to Claudine, who was shrieking with delight at him.
"Go then, good dog, console your mistress," she said. "Follow those piercing screams that float backward," and she was just about to release him when she was obliged to go to the a.s.sistance of Claudine, who had caught her foot, and had fallen to the ground, where she lay overcome by hysterical laughter.
Bidiane had to get water from the lake to dash on her face, and when at last they were ready to proceed on their way, the forest was as still as when they had entered it.
"Bah, I am tired of this joke," said Bidiane. "We have accomplished our object. Let us throw these things in the lake. I am ashamed of them;"
and she put a stone inside their white trappings, and hurled them into Sleeping Water, which mutely received and swallowed them.
"Now," she said, impatiently, "let us overtake them. I am afraid lest Mirabelle Marie stumble, she is so heavy."
Claudine, leaning against a tree and mopping her eyes, vowed that it was the best joke that she had ever heard of; then she joined Bidiane, and they hurriedly made their way to the yellow cottage.
It was deserted now, except for the presence of the six children of mixed blood, who were still sleeping like six little dark logs, laid three on a bed.
"We shall overtake them," said Bidiane; "let us hurry."
However, they did not catch up to them on the forest path, nor even on the main road, for when the terrified women had rushed into the presence of the Indian and had besought him to escort them away from the spirit-haunted lake, that amused man, with a cheerful grunt, had taken them back to the sh.o.r.e by a short cut known only to himself.
Therefore, when Bidiane and Claudine arrived breathlessly home, they found Mirabelle Marie there before them. She sat in a rocking-chair in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by a group of sympathizers, who listened breathlessly to her tale of woe, that she related with chattering teeth.
Bidiane ran to her and threw her arms about her neck.
"_Mon jheu_, Biddy, I've got such a fright. I'm mos' dead. Three ghosties came out of Sleepin' Water, and chased us,--we were back for gold. Suretta an' Mosee-Delice have run home. They're mos' scairt to pieces. Oh, I'll never sin again. I wisht I'd made my Easter duties.
I'll go to confession to-morrer."
"It was I, my aunt," cried Bidiane, in distress.
"It was awful," moaned Mirabelle Marie. "I see the speerit of me mother, I see the speerit of me sister, I see the speerit of me leetle lame child."
"It was the dog," exclaimed Bidiane, and, gazing around the kitchen for him, she discovered Agapit sitting quietly in a corner.
"Oh, how do you do?" she said, in some embarra.s.sment; then she again gave her attention to her distressed aunt.
"The dogue,--Biddy, you ain't crazy?"
"Yes, yes, the dog and Claudine and I. See how she is laughing. We heard your plans, we followed you, we dressed in sheets."
"The dogue," reiterated Mirabelle Marie, in blank astonishment, and pointing to Bastarache, who lay under the sofa solemnly winking at her.
"Ain't he ben plumped down there ever since supper, Claude?"
"Yes, he's ben there."
"But Claude sleeps in the evenings," urged Bidiane. "I a.s.sure you that Bastarache was with us."
"Oh, the dear leetle liar," said Mirabelle Marie, affectionately embracing her. "But I'm glad to git back again to yeh."
"I'm telling the truth," said Bidiane, desperately. "Can't you speak, Claudine?"
"We did go," said Claudine, who was still possessed by a demon of laughter. "We followed you."
"Followed us to Sleepin' Water! You're lyin', too. _Sakerje_, it was awful to see me mother and me sister and the leetle dead child," and she trotted both feet wildly on the floor, while her rolling eye sought comfort from Bidiane.
"What shall I do?" said Bidiane. "Mr. LeNoir, you will believe me. I wanted to cure my aunt of her foolishness. We took sheets--"
"Sheets?" repeated Mirabelle. "Whose sheets?"
"Yours, my aunt,--oh, it was very bad in us, but they were old ones; they had holes."
"What did you do with 'em?"
"We threw them in the lake."
"Come, now, look at that, ha, ha," and Mirabelle Marie laughed in a quavering voice. "I can see Claudine throwing sheets in the lake. She would make pickin's of 'em. Don't lie, Bidiane, me girl, or you'll see ghosties. You want to help your poor aunt,--you've made up a nice leetle lie, but don't tell it. See, Jude and Edouard are heatin' some soup.
Give some to Agapit LeNoir and take a cup yourself."
Bidiane, with a gesture of utter helplessness, gave up the discussion and sat down beside Agapit.
"You believe me, do you not?" she asked, under cover of the joyful bustle that arose when the two boys began to pa.s.s around the soup.
"Yes," he replied, making a wry face over his steaming cup.