The Grey Cloak Part 35

"Bah! Monsieur, under all circ.u.mstances there would be cause for war between us. Do you not love Madame de Brissac? Heigho! she has given the motley to us all. Are we not fine fools? It is droll. Well, I will write the Chevalier's discharge, and you shall go out by the same order. We are all cats in the bags, and some of us are likely to be scratched."

"It will be an exciting day, no doubt;" and the vicomte turned on his heel.

"There was nothing in the pockets of the cloak," said Victor, a while later.

On the second day of June the Saint Laurent dropped anchor before Quebec. The voyage had come to an end, and a prosperous voyage, indeed. There had been only one death at sea; they had encountered neither the Spaniard nor the outlaw; the menace of ice they had slipped past. What a welcome was roared to them from Fort Louis, from the cannon and batteries, high up on the cliffs! The echoes rolled across the river and were lost in the mighty forests beyond. Again and again came the flash, and the boom. It was wondrous to see the fire and smoke so far above one's head. Flags fluttered in the sunshine; all labor was stopped, and the great storehouses were closed for the remainder of the day. Canoes filled with peaceful Hurons sallied forth, and the wharves were almost blotted out of sight with crowding humanity.

Many notable faces could be identified here and there among the pressing throng on the wharves. Some were there to meet friends or relatives; some wanted the news from France; some came for mail to be delivered to the various points along the river. Prominent among them was Governor Lauson, a grey-haired, kindly civilian, who, though a shrewd speculator, was by no means the man to be at the head of the government in Canada. He was pulled this way and that, first by the Company, then by the priests, then by the seigneurs. Depredations by the Indians remained unpunished; and the fear of the great white father grew less and less. Surrounding Monsieur de Lauson was his staff and councillors, and the veterans Du Puys had left behind while in France.

There were names which in their time were synonyms for courage and piety. The great Jesuits were absent in the south, in Onondaga, where they had erected a mission: Father Superior le Mercier, and Fathers Dablon and Le Moyne.

Immediately on landing, Father Chaumonot made a sign, and his sea-weary voyagers fell upon their knees and kissed the earth. New France!

"Now," said Victor, shaking himself, "let us burn up the remaining herrings and salt codfish. I see yonder a gentleman with a haunch of venison on his shoulder."

"One would think that you had had no duck or deer since we pa.s.sed Acadia," laughed Du Puys. "But, patience, lad; Monsieur de Lauson invites all the gentlemen to the Fort at six to partake of his table.

You have but four hours to wait for a feast such as will make your Paris eyes bulge."

"Praise be!"

As he breathed in the resinous, balsamic perfume which wafted across the mighty river from the forests and the river-rush; as his eye traveled up the glorious promontory, now mellowed in sunshine, to the summit bristling with cannon; as his gaze swept the broad reaches of the river, and returned to rest upon the joyous faces around him, joyous even in the face of daily peril, the Chevalier threw back his shoulders, as if bracing himself for the battle to come. Here he was to forget and build anew; France, his mother, was dead, and here was his foster-mother, rugged and brave, opening her arms to him. New France! Ah, well, there was here, somewhere, a niche for him, and the man in him vowed to fill it. He did not yet say "With G.o.d's help." It was early, and the sting of his misfortune still stirred the poison in his soul.

"New France, Paul," cried the poet at his side. The newness and strangeness of the scene had filled the poet's face with animation. No problems beset his buoyant soul.

"Yes, lad; this is New France. Fortune here seems to be of the masculine; and I daresay that you and I shall receive many cuffs in the days to come."

"Come, my friends," said Brother Jacques, "and I will show you the path which leads to the citadel."

And the three proceeded up the incline.

Sister Benie of the Ursulines was pa.s.sing along the narrow road which led to the river. There was on her serene face the remains of what had been great beauty, such as is sometimes given to the bourgeois; but the purple eyes were wells of sadness and the lips ever drooped in pity and mercy. Across her pale cheek was a paler scar, which ran from the left temple to the chin. Sister Teresa, her companion, was young and plain.

Soldiers and trappers and Indians pa.s.sed them on the way up, touching their caps and hats; for Sister Benie was known from Montreal to Tadousac. Suddenly Sister Benie gave a low cry and pressed a hand upon her heart.

"Sister, you are ill?" asked her companion.

"A dizziness; it is gone now." Presently she caught the arm of a gentleman who was pa.s.sing.

"My son," she said, sweetly, "can you tell me who is that young man walking with Brother Jacques; the tall one?"

"He? That is the Chevalier du Cevennes."

"His family?"

"He is the son of the Marquis de Perigny."

"Thank you, my son."

CHAPTER XV

THE SUPPER

"Monsieur du Cevennes," said D'Herouville, just before supper that first night of their arrival on Canadian soil, "I see that you are not quite strong enough to keep the engagement. This day two weeks: will that be agreeable?"

"It will; though I should be better pleased to fix the scene for to-morrow morning."

D'Herouville raised a deprecating hand. "I should not like to have it said that I took advantage of a man's weakness. Of course, if you wish absolutely to force it . . ."

The Chevalier looked thoughtfully at his pale hands. "I shall take advantage of your courtesy, Monsieur le Comte."

"How polite men are when about to cut each other's throats!" The Vicomte d'Halluys adjusted his baldric and entered the great dining-hall of the Chateau Saint Louis.

He and D'Herouville sat side by side.

"Vicomte, you have never told me why the Chevalier is here. Why should he leave France, he, who possessed a fortune, who had Mazarin's favor, and who had all the ladies at his feet?"

"Ask him when you meet him," answered the vicomte, testing the governor's burgundy.

"And will you pay me those ten thousand livres which you wagered against my claims for madame's hand?"

The vicomte took a sip of the wine. There was no verbal answer, but his eyes spoke.

"Quebec promises to afford a variety," commented d'Herouville, glancing to where the Chevalier sat.

"It is quite probable," affably returned the vicomte. "This is good wine for a wilderness like this. To be sure, it comes from France; I had forgotten."

The first fortnight pa.s.sed with the excitement attendant to taking up quarters in a strange land. The Chevalier, Victor and the vicomte were given rooms in the citadel; D'Herouville accepted the courtesy of the governor and became a resident of the chateau; father Chaumonot, Major du Puys, and his selected recruits, had already made off for Onondaga.

A word from Father Chaumonot into the governor's ear promoted the Chevalier to a lieutenancy in lieu of Nicot's absence in Onondaga.

Everything began very well.

Seldom a day went by without a skirmish with the Iroquois, who had grown impudent and fearless again. The Iroquois were determined to destroy their ancient enemies, the Hurons, primarily because they hated them, and secondarily because they were allies of the French. France did what she could in reason to stop these depredations, but the task needed an iron gauntlet, and De Lauson was a civilian. At this period the Mohawks were the fiercest, the Onondagas having agreed to a temporary treaty. Marauders were brought in and punished, but usually the punishment was trivial compared to the offense. The governor wished to rule by kindness; but his lieutenants knew the Indian thoroughly. He must not be treated with kindness where justice was merited; it gave him the idea that the white man was afraid.

Therefore, his depredations should be met with a vengeance swift and final and convincing. But nine times out of ten De Lauson and the priests overruled the soldiers; and the depredations continued unabated. Once, however, the Chevalier succeeded in having several gibbets erected on the island of Orleans, and upon these gibbets he strung half a dozen redskins who had murdered a family of peaceful Hurons.

Though he went about somberly, untalkative and morose, the Chevalier proved himself a capital soldier, readily adapting himself to the privations of scouting and the loneliness of long watches in the night.

He studied his Indian as one who intended to take up his abode among them for many years to come. He discarded the uniform for the deerskin of the trapper. But the Chevalier made no friends among the inhabitants; and when not on duty he was seen only in the company of Victor, the vicomte and Brother Jacques, who was a.s.sisting him in learning the Indian languages. Brown he grew, lithe and active as the enemy he watched and studied. Never a complaint fell from his lips; he accepted without question the most hazardous duty.

"Keep your eye upon Monsieur le Chevalier," said De Lauson; "for he will count largely before the year is gone."

As for Victor, he was more or less indifferent. He was perfectly willing to fight the Indian, but his gorge rose at the thought of studying him as an individual. As a rule he found them to be unclean, vulgar and evil-minded; and the hideous paints disturbed his dreams.

Secretly, his enthusiasm for New France had already waned, and there were times when he longed for the road to Spain--Spain which by now held for him the dearest treasure in all the world. But not even the keen-eyed Brother Jacques read this beneath the poet's buoyancy and lightness of spirit. Besides, Brother Jacques had set himself to watch the Comte d'Herouville and the Vicomte d'Halluys, and this was far more important to him than the condition of the poet's temperament.

D'Herouville mingled with the great seigneurs, and, backed by his reputation as a famous swordsman, did about as he pleased. He watched the Chevalier's progress toward health; and he noted with some concern his enemy's quick, springy step, the clear and steady eye. He still ignored the poet as completely as though he did not exist.

Every Friday night the table was given up to the governor's gentlemen councillors, friends, and officers. Victor and the Chevalier were on this list, as were the vicomte and D'Herouville. Usually these were enjoyable evenings. Victor became famous as a raconteur, and the Chevalier lost some of his taciturnity in this friendly intercourse.

D'Herouville's conduct was irreproachable in every sense.

One day the Chevalier entered one of the school-rooms. In his arms he held a small white child which had sprained its weak ankle while playing on the lumber pile outside the convent of the Ursulines.