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JOHN CANADA

NEW FRANCE

SEQUEL TO " THE CASTLE OF COETQUEN" AND " TEM
TREASVMB OF THE ABBEF*

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF RAODL DE NAVBRY

A. W. CHETWODE

Dublin :

M. H. GILL & SON, LTD.

2 37^

"34-/3

Thi

can]
oft
unii

con:
nesi

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fori

WOl

0ut^or'« Betitcatfon

OUR CANADIAN BRETHREN.

The love of France abides in your inmost hearts, and France
cannot forget you. You retain the Faith and the language
of the Mother Countiy, and thus draw fast the bonds which
unite us though an ocean parts vs.

These pages breathe love for vhe soil of Canada, heroism in
conflict, courage under persecution, and admiration for great-
ness of every kind ; receive them as a token of our ardent
sympathy and an expression of the homage of souls full of love
for all that is noble, pure, and great — ^for all that begins in this
world and finds its completion in heaven.

RAOUL DE NAVERY.

f I

Se<

Se]

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I,

The Rftpids of La Chine

• • «

CHAPTER II.
The Great Hut . • . • .

CHAPTER ni.

Secret Audiences

The Silver-haired Maiden

CHAPl'ER IV.

CHAPTER V.

Separation

• •

Margaret Jefferson

CHAPTER VI.

• • • •

CHAPTER Vn.

An Angel among the Lost

• •

CHAPTER Vni.

Perplexities

• • •

CHAPTER IX.

A Red Sky

PAOI
1

. 15

• I • <

• 40

. M

. 68

. S2

. 101

, 117

viil

CotUenti

Prisoners .

CHAPTER X.

• • • •

CHAPTER XI.

The Thousand Isles

• • •

Wild Bindweed .

An Apparition

The Pursuit

CHAPTER XII.

• • • •

CHAPTER XIII.

» • •

CHAPTER XIV.

• •

PAOC

. 132

. 147

. 162

. 179

. 200

CHAPTER XV.

The Stake

. 219

CHAPTER XVI.

Margaret Jefferson ....

. 233

CHAPTER XVII.

A Premature Struggle ....

. 302

CHAPTER XVIIl.

The Escape ....

. 266

CHAPTER XIX.

The Martyr of a ("{reat Cause .

. 276

CHAPTER XX.

Tht Ruins of Coetquen , ,

. 2tt>

\
\

■■

On a
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goin^
to re
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expri
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the CI
Th
tallfi
large
arden

JOHN CANADA.

CHAPTER I.

THE RAPIDS OF LA CHINIS.

On a splendid day in June, a canoe rowed by two strong
negroes and having a few other persons on board wa&
going down the St. Lawrence. Cordial affection seemed
to reign amongst the different members of the little
party ; but, in spite of all efforts to be cheerful, an abiding
expression of sadness might have been observed on their
countenances. Each one made an effort to give a merry
response to the exclamations of surprise and the bursts of
laughter uttered by a beautiful little boy who stood in
the middle of the boat. He was slight of figure and of
transparent complexion, with curling hair ; there was a
peculiar brightness in his look and in his nmile, and the
tenderness and devotion of the three other voyagers in
the canoe seemed centred on him.

The youngest of these was a lad of about seventeen,
tall for his age and remarkably supple of limb. His
large bright eyes bespoke a nature at once gentle and
ardent. He gazed on the blue-clad child who stood

John Canada,

among thorn, with an afiPcction almost equal to that of
the man who sat in the heat's stern.

This latter might he ahout thirty-five, and his face,
though marked with deep scars, retained great heauty
of expression. His nohle figure and dignified hearing
hetrayed high hirth, while his simple attire was that
of recent mourning.

The last of the voyagers had seen at least sixty
summers. Weather and travel in various climes had
hronzed his skin ; his determined attitude and the
manner in which he occasionally gave an order to the
rowers, revealed one of those brave merchant captains,
who by their talents realised immense fortunes in the
Indies, and at the same time upheld the credit of the
French flag, by capturing in every latitude vessels bear-
ing English colours. This seaman had braved many a
storm, had broken i;^ ater-spouts with his cannon-balls,
had endured deadly calms, faced the monsoon and the
typhoon, but had never trembled before danger. The
soul of a hero animated his iron frame, yet the old sea-
dog grew tender almost to weakness when the child
clasped one of his horny hands with his tiny fingers and
smiling called him " grandfather ! "

" Well, Tanguy ! " said the old captain, addressing
Herve's father, " we are finishing a marvellous voyage ;
when first they spoke to me of the beauty of the shores
of this river, I shook my head in a kind of scorn. One
who has sailed over all the oceans of the world knows
nothing more glorious than that boundless horizon on
uhichhis eyes are accustomed to gaze. But I began to

Tite Rapids of La Chine, 8

change my mind when the grandeur of the bay gaTe
me some idea of what might be expected from the
river. The course of the St. Lawrence to Quebec was
full of wonder to me ; I should never have thought that
a ship of six hundred tons could ascend a river. But
my astonishment was greatly increased when I saw that
I could continue my course to Montreal, and anchor
there as well as in the finest harbour in the world. I
did injustice to fresh water, Tanguy, for this river has
almost all the beauty of tlie sea."

" Yes," replied Tuuguy, " this country seems to me
quite superb, and the thing that specially charms me \a
the immensity of its solitudes. We are only about three
leagues from Montreal and we are already in the \^ Ids.
The blue waters anfl 'he vast woods are all we can see.
To hearts that have been so deeply afflicted, father, this
absolute calmness seems to be a solace. The tumult of
Montreal causes me a kind of alarm. I have seen too
much of men for some months, I feel the need of escaping

from them "

" I have known it, Tan(>uy,*' answered his father-in-
law, " and I have forestalled the desire which you have
not yet expressed. My cargo has been sold to advantage.
I bought nothing but French merchandise, and I was
sure of disposing of that at Montreal. The mate of the
ship is a good fellow, whom I can trust thoroughly. lie
takes command of the Lady of Gaul, and will go for the
present and trade with South America. He will not
undertake long voyages, and will frequently return to
Montreal, until we are able to come to sornc decision as

John Canada.

to our future. My greatest wish is to make it easy for
you to choose your place of abode, Tanguy."

Tlic young man stretched out his arms towards the
river's banks and said, "Father, let us come nearer to the
town if you will, but let us not leave the St. Lawrence.
This morning, when you proposed that we should take a
ride, I understood your meaning and I thanked you from
the bottom of my heart. To-day is perhaps the first day
during which I have been able to shake off the heavy
burden that weighed upon my soul."

*' This excursion was planned two days ago, with
Toyo and Tambou. I desired them to have a boat ready
and to wait for me four leagues from the town. After
having made you ride along the shores of the St.
Lawrence, I wanted to give you a more complete idea of
their beauty by a trip in a canoe. I feared too that
Herve might suffer from over-fatigue. In less than
three hours, that is at the fall of day, we shall be back in
our hotel, and to-morrow we will begin to consider how
your projects can best be carried out."

Toyo turned towards the Captain, and stopped row-
ing, then said, " Massa Halgan, you hear thunder
roaring P "

The old seaman shrugged his shoulders, looked at the
sky and replied, " How can you think of a storm in such
weather as this ? Row on, Toyo, row on ; though we
have *K)me hours of daylight before us, we must re-
member we have to reach the town and return to
Montreal before night."

Toyo plied his oars again with the passive obedience

TJm ttapids of La Chine

of a slave, then turning his head tovrurtls his brother
Tainbou, continued, ** Brother must have heard it ? "

" Yes,*' said Tambou, " but it is not thunder from
heaven, it is the thunder of water ! "

Both the Indians bent themselves back and worked
the oars skilfuUv.

Silence had fallen on the passengers. Tun guy's eyes
wandered along the banks of the river whose forests
had not yet been cleared away. The youth who sat at
Herve's side spoke to him in gentle undertones, as if he
feared to interrupt Tanguy's day-dreams or to break in
upon the Captain's grave reflections.

The canoe was gliding over the water with increasing
speed, a speed which was not accounted lor by the com-
bined efforts of the negroes. A distant tumult reached
the ears of Halgan, and he now understood why Toyo
had spoken of thunder. There was certainly no sign of
a storm to be seen in the sky, but the country was com-
pletely new to him, it was intersected by numbers of
rivers which were swelled by their tributary streams ;
the St. LawrenriG itself sometimes widened into a mighty
lake, its course was broken by sudden and stupendous
cataracts; and, accustomed as he was to the wide ex-
panse of the ocean, the Captain began to wonder whether
the St. Lawrence might not have some terrible surprise
in store for him. His skill as a mariner however re-
assured him, and if his own life only had been in
question, he would have sat still with Tangiiy rapt
in contemplation of the wondrous prospect before him,
but his eye fell on Herve who was smiling and playing

I i!

John Canada.

II'

\irith his youthful friend Patira ; he became alarmed for
his beloved grandchild, and rising up went to the fore-
part of the boat.

The sound which the blacks had been the first to per-
ceive was gradually increasing in intensity ; the boat
was going down the stream in a manner which dis-
quieted him and which was not completely due to the
action of the cars. In order the better to comprehend
the situation of affairs, Halgan desired the two blacks
to stop rowing for a moment ; they obeyed him, but the
boat still darted on with the speed of an arrow.

** There certainly is a current." said the Captain, " a
river is not the sea, after all. Give me your oars, Toyo,
and let yours rest, Tambou ; I can manage the boat."

Herve clapped his hands joyfully. " Oh ^ bow
quickly we are going,'* he cried ; " we are flying faster
than the birds ! "

"Indeed," said Tanguy, speaking to Halgaii, "the ooat
is going at a wonderful rate. Have we nothing to fear? "

" I think not," answered Halgan, " except this sound
which is almost deafening. The river seems perfectly
calm ; I have no doubt there is some reason for the in-
creased speed of our boat, but she is strong and I am an
old Bailor. Don't be uneasy, my son, you won't come to
grief with me."

Tanguy's confidence in the Captain's skill kept him
silent, he only placed Herv^ on his knees and held him
pressed against his breast.

The sun was slowly sinking towards the horizon, the
trees of the forest stood out with strange distinctness

i i

The Mapids of La Chini

against ^he crimsoned sky, while great shadows were
already hovering over the green low-lying bunks. Twi-
light had not yet come, but the sounds of day were
stilled and its beauties were dimmed. Calmness, mingled
with deep melancholy, took possession of the niiud to
quiet it and of the soul to bear it aloft from earth.

Tanguy continued silent ; from time to time his lips
lightly touched the child's brow, while he interchanged
an affectionate glance with the youth who was seated
at his feet, and who sang in a low tone a mournful
strain, which must have been brought from a distant
land, for each note seemed to find an echo in the heart
of those who heard it.

Far o£E a light wreath of smoke was rising above the
trees from an Indian hut hidden within the deep shadows
of the wood.

While Captain Halgan was listening to the ever ap-
proaching thunder of the waters, and Herve sleeping in
his father's arms hushed by the murmur of his friend's
song, a man came to the river's bank, bent over the
branch of a tree in which an iron ring had been made
fast, and undid the rope of bark by which a canoe was
secured. He got into the light boat, drew in the float-
ing rope, seized two oars and began to row without
hurrying, but in a manner which proved his thorough
acquaintance with the river and with the modes of navi-
gation in use among the savages.

He had seen from the shore the heavier boat of our
travellers, and, impelled by a sudden fear, had decided
to prepare for what might happen.

John Canada.

" Never/' said he to himself, " would a native of this
country thus guide his boat on the St. Lawrence. God
guard the strangers, they are nearing the Rapids !"

And indeed the aspect of the river was changed ; in-
stead of the sand over which the limpid waters had
rolled, stone now formed the bed of the St. Lawrence,
and rose so high that there was scarcely as much water
as a canoe might draw. It seemed as if a giant stair-
case were formed of living rock beneath the river,
and the current was rushiug violently over the steps.
To increase yet more the perils of the navigator, the
rocks rose here and there above the waters of the St.
Lawrence, many reefs appeared above the surface, and
amid the many obstacles and unknown dangers of the
river, the skill and experience of the best seaman would
have been at fault.

The increasing speed of the boat's course, and the
roaring of the waterfalls surprised Captain Halgan, and
he bfcgan to perceive that the lives of the loved beings
under his care might be in danger ; he seized the oars in
a Icind of desperation, but at this moment their assist-
ance was likely to be dangerous rather than useful, the
boat was suddenly carried away by the current and
glided along swiftly as an arrow from the bow. At one
moment its keel touched the rocky bottom, the next its
sides came into contact with the reefs. Powerless to
slacken the course of the canoe, Halgan's only care now
was to hinder it from striking too violently against the
rocks, but the oars were soon shattered in his hands,
the impetuous rapids dashed the boat against an enormor^

rockl
the

T]
smoc
dimij
a rei

Tlie Rapida of La Chine.

rock, and the shock was so great that it rebounded from
the rock and was driven into the middle of the river.

llie rapids were passed, the St. Lawrence was again
smooth as a mirror, but the danger was by no means
diminished ; the side of the boat had been shattered by
a reef, water was coming in, and the efforts of the
passengers to bale it out or to stop the hole could only
for a time retard the inevitable catastrophe.

At the moment when the boat had struck on the rock
with a fearful crash, Herve with a cry of terror had
fallen back insensible in his father's arms, and Tanguy,
pressing him closely to his heart, was wondering
whether it was not time to seek safety by swimming,
when the man in the bark canoe, paddling towards them
with all possible speed, cried out : "Do not be afraid !
you are saved ! "

Tn another moment he was so close to the half-sunken
boat, that he was able to take hold of its side.

" Spring into my canoe ! " he said calmly, " though
it looks but slight it is quite able to bear you all ! "

Tanguy went first, then Patira ; the negroes stood in
the sinking boat waiting to see Halgan in a place of
safety, but he signed to them to get into the canoe.
''The Captain," he observed, "is the last to leave a
shipwrecked vessel."

As the boat went to pieces and floated down the
calm bosom of the river, Halgan sat down at Tanguy's
side.

" You certainly do not belong to this country, sir,"
said the man who had so providentially seen them from

John Canada.

the river's bank and saved them from certain death,
"you must be strangers or you would know the Rapids
of La Chine."

" We are Frenchmen, sir,** replied Tanguy, " and
have only been in Montreal for a few days.**

The youth, plunging one of his hands in the stream,
bathed the temples of Herv^, who still lay motionless,
while Tanguy gazed on his pale countenance with an
expression of tender anxiety.

" It will be nothing serious, probably,** said the
master of the canoe, " the child has fainted from terror,
but there is no danger in his state. Unfortunately, I
have no restoratives with me, but the air, no doubt,
will set him right : however, allow me to make you an
o£Fer, and to ask you a question — Did you mean to re
turn to Montreal this evening ? '*

" That was our intention," answered the Captain.

" Is it absolutely necessary that you should be
there?'*

" No, unless this child's state '*

" Be at ease about him — I have finished my questions,
and this is what I can offer you : You see I am draw-
ing near the bank of the river, and you may observe a
solid dwelling-place half hidden among the trees — will
you accept my hospitality, or had you rather return to
Montreal by means of this canoe ?"

" Sir," said Tanguy, " we owe our lives to you, and
we thankfully accept another benefit from your hands
— Montreal is at least two leagues distant, and my son
does not yet open his eyes.'*

The Rapids of La Chine.

((

Very well ! and I thank you, sir," responded the
o^mer of the canoe ; " a few minutes more and we shall
land."

Twilight came, and while the travellei's drew near
to the ahode of their deliverer, the other shore
of the river faded from their view, and the splen-
dour of the sunlight passed away. The dark forest
seemed to grow larger and larger hefore their faces,
as the hlue distance could no longer be distinguished
from the line of trees.

They were nearing the shore, and when their deliverer
found himself close to the mooring-place, he pushed
his paddle firmly into the bottom, brought his bark-
canoe so near the bank that he could spring on land,
then drew out the rope and made it fast to a giant
Shumach tree, and gave a helping hand to Tanguy,
who, with his child still held in close embrace, in
another moment stood at the Canadian's side.

Captain Halgan, Patira, Toyo, and Tambou, one
after another left the canoe, and their host quickened
his steps as he led the way to a great house over which
the shadows of night were gathering.

As the wanderers passed under some giant sugar
maple trees, two different sounds welcomed the owner
of the dwelling — one was a joyful barking, and the
other a strange guttural cry, which might have been
interpreted as an expression of affection. A great dog
rushed out to meet his master, bounded round and
round him, licking his hands, and raising his beautiful
head towards him, while a gigantic brown bear came

■»■•-:

John Canada.

forward with heavy steps shaking his immense head,
then slowly raised himself to an erect position, uttering
a dull grumbling growl, and iinally placed his velvet
paws on the shoulders of the travellers' kind host.

" Gently, Phebus !** said the man, " down Mingo !
you are good faithful creatures ! Draw back and show
respect to tbose who are entering our door." The dog
raised his head, sniffed at the new-comers, and then
rubbed himself against Patira's legs, while Mingo, the
bear, trod heavily at Tanguy's side.

Neither bear nor dog as yet crossed the threshold of
their master's dwelling ; their duty as guardians was
not concluded, for they quietly placed themselves one on
each side, like sentinels ready to sound an alarm on the
first appearance of danger.

Two servants hastened to meet the Canadian, and a
tall man, wearing the national dress of an Indian tribe,
approached him with an air of dignity and an expres-
sion of tender affection. *'My brother has made a
prosperous trip," he said, " my brother brings back
strangers."

** Yes, Black Bison," answered the Canadian, and then
turned to Tanguy, and pointing him out to the Indian,
said, " Give this beautiful boy into the care of my Indian
brother without any fear ; he has a knowledge of medi-
cine which might astonish many a learned doctor."

Black Bison took hold of Herve cautiouslv, looked at
him anxiously, and then turned his eyes to the Cana-
dian, as if in expectation of a command rather than a
request.

The Rapids of La Chine.

" Let the Black Bison listen to my words and en^^rave
them on his heart. Terror hus deprived this child of
all feeling of life — the boy must smile again in his
father's arms/'

The Indian bowed his head with majestic calmness,
and the servants opened the folding doors into the great
hall.

Black Bison began by taking off Herve's damp
garments, warmed his icy limbs by slow friction,
wrapped him in a warm rug of the fur of the black
fox, took some bottles from a sort of cupboard, and put
a few drops of some liquid on the child's mouth.
Halgan and Tanguy bent over their darling, and
presently his eye-lids quivered, a gentle breathing
opened his lips, he gazed around him in wonder, re-
cognized Halgan and his father, then threw his arms
round Patira's neck, and finally, catchiug sight of the
strange figure of Black Bison, uttered a cry of mingled
fear and wonder.

*' The Wren is afraid of the Black Bison," said the
Indian, *' but he will soon learn that the Red Skins are
friends of the Pale Faces."

At this moment the bell announced the evening
meal, the door was opened noiselessly, and a strange
and charming being appeared on the threshold.

She seemed to be about thirteen years of age, her
figure was tall and graceful, and the dress she wore
harmonized with her peculiar and surpassing beauty.
It consisted of a white tunic adorned with embroidery,
and confined by a girdle of rare shells. A long neck-

John Canada,

lace of many-coloured pearls hung down to her breast.
Mocassins worked with porcupine quills and glass
beads, covered her tiny feet, her hands were long and
delicately formed like those of a European girl. Her
skin was of a warm amber tint, and her magnificent
long hair was, by some strange, yet graceful freak of
nature, white as the foam of the cascade, or the snow
of the glacier. A golden band confined this hair which
floated around her like a liquid veil.

"Father, father," she asked, as she pressed the
master's hand to her lips, *' no accident has happened
to you P"

" None, thank God ! and those who are under my
roof are in safety."

Herv^, who was now in Patira's arms, looked at the
silver-haired maiden with a sweet smile; in another
moment she was at his side, the two innocent creatures
understood and loved one another at first sight ; Herv6
gave his hand to the silver-haired maiden, and they
went together into the vast dining-hall.

" Gentlemen," said the Canadian to his guests, " you
are at home."

In another moment all were grouped around a well-
spread table, and after having seen Herv^ comfortably
established, the little Indian maiden kissed his brow,
and said, in a musical voice, " The Wren and Non-
pareille will love each other as if they had been rocked
in the same cradle."

The Great Jliit.

CHAPTER II.

THE GREAT HUT.

The dwelling in whicli Tanguy had been so hospitably
received partook of the character of an Indian cabin in
the primitive nature of its materials, and at the same
time, resembled a fort in some points which could not
fail soon to strike the eye of an observer.

The palisade surrounding the immense fnciosure in
which the house stood, was formed of trunks of trees,
large and solid enough to resist a bullet and presenting
serious obstacles even to the axe. Great cross-pieces
of wood held the sharpened posts of the palisade
together, and heavy bars of iron defended its gates.
The house was also made of trunks of trees with the
bark left on, the windows, large enough to admit floods
of light into the lower apartments, were furnished with
good shutters and showed that nothing had been for-
gotten in providing for the safety of the house. In the
upper storeys, loop-holes served to give light to rooms
which were leas frequently used, and at the same time
offered an important means of defence in case of attack.
The menacing aspect of some of these arrangements
was partly concealed by the broad projecting roof from
which the snow could easily slide in winter.

The house was entered by a flight of fine steps, an
9imense vestibule gave access to rooms whose spacious
lOroportions enabled their master to exercise hospitality
on a large scale. Phebus and Mingo were generally

John Canada.

to be found in the court or the vestibule ; the former
ever lively and playful, the latter sleepy and sad, unless
when fear took possession of him and roused liis over-
whelming strength and called forth his terrible growl.

Tanguy, Captain Halgan, and the youth Patira were
in an immense dining-room ; liberality without luxury
presided at the table. The dinner-service was conmion,
the provisions substantial, and the beer sound and good,
but the habits of the master were evidently temperate.

The silver-haired maiden had taken possession of
Herv^ with a sort of affectionate despotism. While
his blue garments were being dried, she wrapped him in
the fur of a black fox, and the pretty boy might have
been taken for the model of some picture of the Holy
Family, in which St. John is to be seen, smiling,
crowned with curling hair, and clad with a fleece which
displays the transparent skin of his infant form. The
strange attire of his companion, the tender gravity of
her expression, the beauty of her necklaces, the grace
of her smile, and the wonderful floatinf^ hair which
surrounded her, all combined to transport Herve into
another world. From time to time he looked at his
friend Patira as if he would ask him the meaning of
all the marvels which surrounded him, but the youth
was absorbed in thought, and perhaps the subject of
his meditations was the same as the subject of Herv^'s
delighted surprise.

The meal began in silence, but by degrees the host
succeeded in giving some animation to the conversa-
tion ; he described to the rescued travellers the beauty

TtiP Great HuK

of that virgin nature in the midst of which he dveelt,
he spoke of Indian tribes w'th whom he seemed to be
intimately acquainted, and whenever he praised their
courage or made mention of their virtues, his eyes
turned to the Black Bison or the silver-haired maiden.

The Indian had followed the host into the dining
hall, but he did not share the meal, only accepting a
draught of the brown beer which he seemed to quaS
in honour of the visitors.

The maiden who answered to the name of Nonpareille
had adopted the European customs of her friendly
protectors, although her dress still betrayed her re-
membrance of her owii Tce and her affection for it.

When the meal was c /er, the guests withdrew into
another apartment which was divided into two parts by
two different styles in which it was furnished.

On one side might be seen convenient and simple
pieces of furniture of French form, together with many
other things belonging to civilized life ; on the other,
were heaps of furs, chiefly those of the bear and the
bison, apparently destined to serve as seats. From
a carved rack hung pipes with curiously sculptured
earthenware bowls set in rings of silver or brass, deco-
rated with figures and trimmed with feathers, and fitted
into large wooden tubes ; others of yet more extraordi-
nary workmanship were fixed to the blade of an axe, had
the handle of a tomahawk for a tube, and a stone
bowl. The warlike owner of such a calumet could
instantly make it a terrible weapon. The host of the
great hut offered his guests vipes of a less formidable

John Canada.

kind, provided tbem with good tobacco, and said in a
voice of remarkable power and sweetness, " Your rooms
are ready, gentlemer, you must retire when you like .
the pleasure of your visit does not make me forget
the fatigue and violent emotion you have to-day gone
through.' "

Tanguy gave his hand to his host, " You have wel«
comed us," he said, "according to the traditions of
antiquity and the custom of the desert. We have re-
ceived from you the greatest possible services, we have
shared your bread and your salt, and you do not yet
know even our names."

" I know," replied the master, " that you are men of
intelligence and good heart ; your speech assures me
that you are French ; can anything more be needed to
enable us to understand and appreciate each other ?"

" I am called Marquis Tanguy of Coetquen," re-
joined the young man. ** Captain Hainan was father of
the wife for whom I mourn, whose features live again
in Herve's countenance. As to this youth who seems
already quite abashed, because he is afraid of hearing
his own praises, he is Fatira, and he saved our lives on
a previous occasion "

Patira came forward towards the host and laid his
nervous hand in that which the gentleman held out
to him. The silver-haired maiden gazed at him with
simple-hearted admiration ; evidently it made her happy
to know that he was brave.

" As for me, sir," said the host in his turn, " 1 am
known under the name of John Canada."

The Great Hut.

" What ! ** exclaimed Coetquen, •* you are John
Canada, who fought for New Franc** by the side of
Montcalm ! Oh ! believe me, we all know you, and
we have admired you from a distance as one of the
heroes in the glorious struggle which needs not success
to render it immortal. You were at the battle of
Carillon, your blood was shed twice on the plains of
Abraham. My brave father, who was a connection of
the Montcalms, a friend of the Bougainvilles, and a
relation of the Marquis of Vaudreuil, has often spoken
to me of you ! "What a happiness for exiles to find
in this distant land a man so devoted to the old flag
ana lu Ihe service of God ! "

The manly features of John Canada betrayed deep
emotion, a tear stood in his eye as he pressed the
hands of Halgan and Tanguy ; slowly, as if fearful
of losing his self-command, he uttered the words,
" France ! my beloved and noble France !"

" Why did you speak of fatigue a little while ago? "
rejoined the Marquis of Coetquen, " I never felt less in
need of sleep. It would be sucn a pleasure to talk of
our common country."

A cloud of perplexity passed over John Canada's face.
" So you do not mean to retire to your room ?" he said.

•' By no means, and until you yourself go to rest — "

" I shall not go to bed to-night."

" Then we shall remain with you^ unless your duties
oblige you to part from those whom you delivered from
th« Rapids."

" lu any case," answered John Canada, " the hour

John Canaaa.

for doing so has not yet come, we have still time to
speak of France."

A shudder passed through the frame of Coetquen,
and he said, " We have hardly been a month in Canada.
We have fled from France, which now offers us nothing
but a scaifold — John Canada ! torrents of blood are
flowing in our country, the cross is cast down from the
desecrated altars, the nobles are only escaping death
by banishment. Kuin is on every side. A red rag
has taken the place of the banner with the lily of
France for which you have fought, and amid the
terrible convulsions which now distract the country, it
seems as if its institutions and its glories must com-
pletely perish."

" Do not believe it ! never believe it !** cried John
Canada. " France is suffering ! is in her agony ! she
lies a martyr on a blood-stained soil, because she is the
prey of the ambitious, of murderers, and unbelievers.
But her torture has lasted only four years, while we,
Canadians, inhabitants of the old country, have been
enduring ruin, persecution, transportation, and death,
for thirty years. For thirty years a struggle has been
going on in Canada between the Catholic Faith and
Protestantism. Our patriotism is punished by exile,
our faith is proscribed. It is not enough for our
enemies to banish those who speak too loudly, there
is wholesale transportation, entire districts are de-
populated, and family ties are broken with wanton
ferocity. What has been the fate of Acadia ? Where
are our exiled brethren P Alas ! what is before us P

I , III''

The Great Hut.

I ma^? speak, since my name has already readied your
ears : I have fought unceasingly for the freedom of my
country and if all patriotism had died out of the hearts
of the men of New France, it would still be preserved
in this dwelling which is called by the wild Indian
tribes, the Great Hut. Ever since the day when I was
borne back wounded, from the great battle fought by
the heroic Vaudreuil, the love of my country has been
to me a sacred thing. I am proud of the name of
Frenchman, and I husband my remaining powers to
be in readiness for the hour when the Canadians may
need me. I did not choose the name I bear, it was
given to me, and I hold it as a noble title. I seem
to have been made the representative of our country
which is vanquished indeed, but still alive and ready
at the first sound of hope and deliverance, to rise up
again and pour forth her blood on the plains which
it will fertilize !"

" Alas ! " said Halgan, " how you must have
suffered !"

" We have wanted for everything except courage ;
we have slept on the burned ground, we have passed,
bare-footed and weak with hunger, through the wild
untrodden forests. Bigot, the wretched governor of
Canada, who has received the reward of his evil deeds,
sold us worn-out muskets, which burst f.n our bleeding
hands — yet we held on. French regiments fought
side by side with the militia of the country, Indian
tomahawks fraternised with our arms. The sound of
our bugles was overpowered by the native war cries.

I-!

Julni Canada.

! :i7

I!*:

The Red Men and the Pale Faces were animated by one
common sentiment, all fought for the great Ononthio,
and offered their lives for New France. Though the
mother country abandoned us we could never forget
her. Hatred for our conquerors has outlived the
sorrows of defeat. We are, and shall ever be French-
men. "We shall never cease to speak that familiar
eloquent language which is so ricb in tenderness
and in power. Our hearts are still true to her who
has forgotten us, and those who have breathed the
air that passed over our cradles have a special claim on
our friendship."

" Brave, noble heart !" exclaimed Coetquen.

** We can now understand each other," rejoined John
Canada, " and if what I am about to tell you alarms
your conscience, you will forget it."

** On my word of honour !" said the Marquis.

"You will answer for Patira, as I do for Non-
pareille ?"

" Yes," replied Halgan.

*' Well !" continued John Canada, "the Great Hut
has become the central meeting-place of all who are
suffering in body, in mind, or in heart. Here come,
singly or in groups, every day and every month, those
who need food or counsel ; here at fixed times assemble
those who share my hope of raising Canada to new life,
and delivering her from the conquerors who have
become her tormentors. Oh ! do not say that we are
seeking comfort in a vain dream : since the day when
the Black Bison brought me here, pierced with three

yi-\

The Great Hut.

bullets, this abode has been the last refuge where it
was possible for us to meet. We have patience,
because we have faith and strength. We count our
numbers without hurrying into action. Perhaps this
band of brothers, united by a single idea, and chosen
from all ranks of society, will do nothing more th:m
support and console one another. And if it should bo
80, would not our work have still been worth doing ?
If God appoints us an hour, we will act — if the hour of
action comes not, we will continue to suffer in silence.
We do not take part in politics, properly so-called.
We cannot even be said to be conspirators. Wo
meet together, that is all. Each one leaves our
gathering with a fresh impulse for good and a
more generous confidence in the ^^ture. The poor,
the rich, the learned, and the unlettered, the savage
and the missionary, all flock to this wooden house ;
hands are clasped in one another, hearts understand
each other, and God does the rest."

*' But what of the police ?" asked Captain Hal-
gan.

" Oh ! I am well aware that they would give a good
deal to be rid of me, and accordingly I am extremely
prudent ; those around me guard me, I leave nothing
to chance, and give no reason for violence. If I had
listened only to my own feelings, 1 should often and
often have drawn down upon me the terrors of the law ;
but I owe myself to others, and I have no right to run
to destruction. The police are watching for an op-
portunity and I make it my business to give them

John Canada.

Qone. The morrow's success may be sacrificed by
to-day's imprudence."

"And one of your meetings takes place this evening?"

"Yes, this evening. Friends, poor and afflicted
persons, will come from MontreaJ and the neighbouring
islands, from the villages on the banks of the river and
from the depths of the forest, to speak together of the
land from which you have taken flight, and of * the
old country ' which they would fain deliver from every
trace of the English."

" But," inquired Tanguy, " besides the snares which
may be laid for you, does not your isolated situation of
itself expose you to serious dangers ?"

** I have indeed, everything to apprehend, and there-
fore, I am always ready for combat. This wooden
house could stand a siege. To tell the truth, I have
nothing to fear from the English. The day that they
catch me in the act of conspiring against the right of
the strongest, they will judge me with unmitigated
severity, and I need have no hope of mercy ; but until
such time as they can take me, condemn and execute
me, they will leave me in peace. "What I always look
forward to is an attack from the savages friendly to
England. I have had five different alarms from them,
they were defeated, but not without difficulty. The
Indian chief who is calmly smoking his calumet
here, was of great use to me, to say nothing of Phebus
and Mingo, whose intelligence was equal to their
courage. The village of La Chine consists of a few
V.;si?^c vvhose inmates are devoted to me ; in case of need

The Great But.

I can summon them bore and they can easily reach me
by a path unknown to the Hurons."

" I sincerely admire you," said Tanguy, '* and all
the more because your courage endures so long.
After all, nothing is easier than the daring that impels
us to face a danger however great, under the influence
of a noble idea and amid the excitement of generous
feeling. But coolly to realize what you are doing, to
become the soul of a party, to be the representative of
a persecuted nation, and to confine your very courage
within the limits of prudence, is indeed heroic and
grand."

At this moment Black Bison took his long pipe
from his lips, raised his tall figure to its utmost
height, and left the hall, after having made a feign to
John Canada.

Ilerve had just fallen asleep, and Patira raising him
in his arms, said to the silver-haired maiden, '* Non-
pareille, I should like to lay this dear child in the bed
which the master of the house intends for me, and
myself to return to this hall."

" Come !" said the young girl, gently.

The cry of the blue owlet was now heard,
and gives notice that John Canada's friends were
drawing near the Great Hut. Light as a bird the
young girl passed before the youth, opened the door of
a chamber in which a night-lamp was burning dimly,
pointed to a little bed and said, " My young brother
will have sweet dreams here."

The same cry was heaid for the second time, and the

/ ,

n
1 1' i

I I
f 1

John Canada.

silver-liaired maiden took Patira by the hand, and led
him back to the great hall whose curtain was raised by
the Black Bison.

CHAPTER III.

SECRET AUDIENCES.

The countenance of the Indian betrayed emotion
scarcely to be controlled by the gravity habitual to
men of his race, who unite great simplicity of heart
to their courage. It might have been guessed that the
cry which he had heard, and in answer to which he had
arisen, proceeded from the lips of some companion of
his youth, who had wielded the tomahawk at his
side in war with a hostile tribe, or had, with him,
shouldered the musket when the Indians joined their
French allies in resisting the invaders of Canada.

The chief — for his noble mien, the scars which
seamed his breast, and the silver and gold medals which
hung from his necklace, claimed the title for him — had
chosen to appear at John Canada's assembly, not in his
war-paint but in mourning colours. Black predomi-
nated in the numerous lines drawn on his face, and the
buffalo skin which served him as a cloak, bore as cant-
ing arms a bleeding heart transpierced by an arrow.
His legs were hidden by buckings of supple leather, which
were ornamented by the hair taken from enemies slain
in battle.

A ecalping-knife and a brilliant axe hung from his

Secret Audiences.

girdle ; rings of silver rattled from the immense lobes
of his ears, and wampum necklaces fell like a breastplate
over his chest where the tattooed totem of his tribe ap-
peared beside his paint.

Pierced-Heart silently seated himself in a corner of
the spacious hall, and accepting the calumet which
Black Bison presented to him, began to smoke. John
Canada was too well acquainted with Indian customs
not to respect the chief's imperturbable reserve ; Halgan,
Tanguy, and Patira watched him with a curiosity which
was kindly rather than indiscreet.

Hardly a moment had passed after the arrival of the
Algonquin Sachem, when another visitor reached the
hall. He was a tall old man, clad in a torn cassock, and
shod with mocassins of bufPalo leather. He leaned on
a great maple staff, and wore on his head a black close-
fitting skull-cap. A few locks of white hair strayed
over his thin neck, and an expression of hidden suffer-
ing enhanced the asceticism of his appearance.

The missionary came to John Canada as quickly as his
weariness permitted him.

" I come," he said, " to seek refuge ; for the last week
I have been hunted like a wild deer, and I have escaped
by little less than a miracle from the Indian partizans
of the English power, who look on us as the enemies of
their gods and the opponents of their allies. God
knows, my son, that I do not concern myself about
political affairs or new divisions of country, all I do, is
to teach men the law of God and to bear the crucifix
from hut to hut. But the English are not content with

l-\

John Canada.

having taken possession of our territory, they seek to
snatch from us that winch has been won by the Gospel.
The greatest severity is shown to the tribes which
have remained friendly to France, and now protection
and peace are offered as the reward of the abjuration of
their faith. John Canada ! my feet are bleeding in the
mocassins which a kind Indian widow bestowed upon
me, and the old missionary is hungry."

Tanguy and Halgan gazed at the old man with rever-
ent pity and the Silver-haired maiden hastened forward
and bent down before him with arms crossed upon her
breast. The priest blessed her and she glided from the
hall, beckoning to Patira to follow her. When they
came into the dining-hall, Nonpareille put some bread,
a slice of venison, and a jar of fresh water on a tray,
gave it to Patira to carry ; and then taking a basin, a
towel and a pitcher, returned to the missionary who had
sunk exhausted on a seat.

She knelt before him, washed his bleeding feet and
bound them up, first with fresh leaves and then with
linen bandages, and, when this was done, stood before
him silent and modestly graceful, while Patira served
his frugal meal.

The great hall meanwhile had gradually become
filled with visitors belonging to very different social
positions. Some of the men had come from Montreal,
and the neighing of their horses, which were fastened
to the palisades surrounding the court, might be heard ;
others had descended the St. Lawrence in their bark
canoes, the poorer traders had come on foot through

SSecrct Audiences.

the forest and arrived worn-out with their journey.
Some of them related the crafty expedients to which
they had been compelled to resort in order to pass
through the districts infested by the Huron bands.

While the Europeans gathered around John Canada,
the Indian chiefs flocked to the sagamore and took the
long pipes presented by the Pierced-Heart.

All spoke in an undertone ; the men looked cautiously
at each other ; John Canada watched for the great
clock which stood in a corner of the hall to give the
appointed signal ; its hands moved slowly round the en-
amelled dial ; two minutes more and he was to begin
to speak, but the door was violently thrown open and a
woman with dishevelled locks cast herself at his feet.

" Give me back my daughter !** she said, " give me
back my daughter !"

'* Your daughter ! Amy David, your daughter
Lucy ? **

" They have taken her from me, the wicked wretches
have stolen her. For a long time I have not had a day of
peace or a happy hour ; I knew that the monsters were
watching for their prey, and I pressed my child to my
heart, as if my love could guard her. You know her,
you know she is good, and beautiful, and pure, an angel
in her devotion, a saintly soul! "We are poor — my
father's fortune has been taken from us — we worked
with our hands all day and at least half the night, but
we never complained ; we were happy in our affection
for one another. Persecution assailed us in a crafty and
hidden manner ; work became scarce, we were turned

t -1 ,■

i :

:f !

I. I

ill

John Canada.

out from several poor abodes which had given us shelter.
One day a l*rotcstant Minister visited us on the pretext
of taking an interest in our position : he expressed com-
passion for us and gave us to understand that our lot
might bo ameliorated if I wislicd it. Do you under-
stand what he meant ? If I wished it ! I saw that
my child was growing pale, and I asked myself if she
could endure our protracted martyrdom. Then he
spoke to me of apostasy. If I would consent to deny
my faith, I should be made more comfortable, if not —
alas ! I knew it well, if not, mother and child would
soon die of hunger. I bid the tempter begone, but that
night we had no supper. Two days after Lucy re-
turned to me in a state of terror, she believed she had
seen dark-looking men pursuing her. I tranquillized
her with some difficulty, and we decided that for the
future she should only go out with me. Then, the
crafty foes laid a snare for her. A note was written to
inform my child that she could obtain remunerative
work in a distant part of the town, on condition of
going for it immediately. I was out at the moment
when Lucy received the letter ; she thought she ought
not to wait for me, lest the opportunity should be lost,
and accordingly she started. She had hardly gone
twenty paces from our dcor, when she was arrested on
an odious charge, and in spite of her tears and her pro-
testations of innocence, dragged off to one of tliose places
of confinement in which thieves t^nd abaT.doned women
await trial. When I came home ray house was empty ;
I wept and prayed and lo(/kefl for my child's return ;

in th^

she"

whei

only

amidj
accus
such I
whicl
ordei

Secret Audirnces.

in the morning one of the police came to tell me where
she was imprisoned. You wi^l believe me, John Canada,
when I say, I had rather have heard of the death of my
only daughter — Lucy in that place of horror ! Lucy
amidst those reprobates ! my angel among fiends ! Lucy
accused ! I am almost beside myself when I think of
such cruelty, when I dwell on the infernal wickedness
which tries to blacken the daughter's reputation in
order to be revenged on the mother's faith."

" It is horrible ! horrible ! " murmured John Canada.

"You will give her back to me ? Will you not ? say
that you will give her back P See I am on my knees, I
am weeping, I beg for justice and pity ! "

" Pity ! poor woman ! poor mother ! do you not see
that our hearts are overflowing with pity ? our eyes are
full of tears for you ; but justice I but when shall we be
allowed to give you justice ? '*

" To morrow if you wish it," said a young man,
stepping forward from the midst of a group in which he
had been hidden. *' We have muskets still, and we can
makb powder, if we have not money enough to buy it.
The blood of the brave and the tears of the weak are
calling for vengeance. A few moments ago I shuddered
at seeing Father Flavian amongst us bearing the traces
of his glorious martyrdom. If his long white locks no
longer float on his shoulders it is because he has been
scalped by the Hurons. Hurons in the pay of England
The blood-stained trophy, I should say the venerable
relic, adorns the wigwam of some Indian. Who shall
hinder us from rising against so cruel a jroke ? We

John Canada.

have bound ourselves by no promises, and the oaths made
to our fathers are broken every day. Let us rise against
the oppressor who has taken possession of us as if we
were mere goods to be bartered. Father Flavian will
not preach revolt, he is afraid that we should avenge
the horrible cruelty he has undergone, but this woman
is weeping and suffering ! Our priests are scalped,
young Catholic maidens are carried away to be confined
in so-called industrial institutions ! Yes, yes, pity for
Lucy and her mother, and vengeance on our foes ! '*

" Death to our foes ! *' repeated twenty voices.

Pierced-Heart slowly drew near, "The Pale Faces
love us," he said, " and I am going to tell the Pale
Faces what I have seen in the huts of our brethren.
The new rulers oppress them and torture them — while
the great Ononthio treated them as his children and
honoured them as warriors, the spoilers of the ' Old
Country,' take their hunting-grounds and let hostile
nations loose upon them. The Black Robe has been
tortured, faithful Indians are massacred every day ;
peace had been sworn, peace which was to last as long
ns the rivers should flow, as long as the stars should
shine in heaven, but the oaths have been despised and
the battle-axe has been taken from the place where it
was buried. I come from the Counsel Hut, I bring to
you the words of the old men and the desires of the
young men ; he English have betrayed the Indians ;
the Indian will send forth the arrow and the tomahawk.
I have spoken and men have listened to my words.'*

Pierced- Heart remained standing, and looked around

Secret Audiences.

him with a calm and haughty glance to judge of the
effect which his speech had produced. The guttural
exclamation uttered hy the Indians seated at some
distance proved that it had found an echo in mighty
hearts.

"You have spoken well," sa'd a 3/oung Canadian,
clad in a hunting blouse, as he approached Pierced-
Heart. His manly beauty and his free, noble bearing
commanded the sympathy of all who looked upon him,
and he continued : " we have borne patiently, we have
bowed beneath the yoke ; now, if we would not be
cowards we must take our revenge. I am from the old
country, and my father was one of the first who left St.
Malo to make his fortune rapidly in Canada. He gained
the desired wealth, my family possessed estates and lived
in opulence. All was taken from them and I was left
an orphan, for my father fell gloriously at Carillon, and
my mother did not long survive him. I owe it to the
goodne&s of an old friend of my family that I did not
grow up in ignorance, and, as I could not at once be a
soldier, I became a hunter. But in common with all the
youth of Canada, I long to take up arms and reconquer
the territory which was ours. Every day makes our
condition worse and increases the overbearing pride of
the English. If it was a question of taking Quebec,
peT-haps you would say that the position of the city is
too strong and that we should only die in vain beneath
its walk, but Montreal is not too well defended to fall
into our hands, if we venture on a brave blow. Our
first victory will draw around us all those who take the

!i .

John Canada.

winning side. The sons of those who fought like heroes
on the plains of Abraham are longing to avenge their
fathers. You have often striven to stem the irresistible
impulse which urges us on, John Canada ! I do not think
it is possible that you can stand between us and the
English. You have heard Father Flavian and this
heart-broken mother, you know the opinion of our
friends the Indians — give the signal and within a month
all the men in Canada capable of bearing arms mil be
gathered round you !"

A murmur of approval greeted the words of George
Malo, and many of the young men came to shake hands
with him.

It was now an old Indian's turn to take part in the
discussion.

He was extremely old, the white hair fell over his
shoulders. Over his leathern gaiters, which were
covered with thongs of deer- skin tastefully crossed over
each other, was a short tunic of bison skin ornamented
with curious patterns and fringed with scalps of human
hair, which were a memorial of many deadly deeds.

As he came forward the young Indians rose in token
of respect.

" I have seen a hundred snows," naid the old man, in
a feeble voice ; " I have fought for France, and my heart
was sad when the battle axe was buried. Raise it up
again to the red sun of war ! My sons, who are elders
of the tribe of Castors, will recover the fire of youth
when war begins, and the children of my grandchildren
will shoot their arrows with valiant hands. The saga-

Secret Audiences.

nores have sent me to say to the master of the Great
Hut: *The tomahawk is thirsty!* You, whom the
Indians venerate and whom the great Spirit inspires,
you will understand our prayers, and will bid us rise
like a troop of warriors."

" Oak of the "White Moss," replied John Canada,
using the picturesque language of the Indians, " I know
what the Ahenaquis are suffering, and as a man I have
wept over it "

" We no longer want tears," said the old man, " but
powder and blood ! Look around you ! all the chiefs
are painted in the colours of war. If you refuse your
counsel, they will march without^ a guide, and will be
slain to no purpose. Let the Great Pale Face, the
friend of the Indians, take their part in the new war .
let him help them to conquer back their hunting'
grounds, to return to the place where their fathers*
bones were buried, and whence the English have driven
them away."

" I come from Quebec,'* rejoined a man of mature
age ; " revolt is in every heart. George Malo was right
wiier he told you that a victory would be more easily
won at Montreal ; but this first success of our arms
would have an effect like that of a train of powder,
and while the deliverers hasten to lay siege to Quebec,
iind gain possession of the town by the side which
suffered Wolfe's audacious assiiult, all the French and
Canadians will be against the garrison, and open the
gates of the town. Wo arc fifty here to-night, when
you say the word, we shall be fifty thousand I"

John Canada.

The meeting now assumed an aspect of tumultuous
agitation. Hearts were overflowing with anger, and
indignation broke forth into passionate eloquence. Each
of those who had come from a distance to bring the
complaints of the oppressed to the Great Hut, had a
tale of iniquity to relate and an accusing word to speak.
The Canadians trembled, lest, infuriated by the opposi-
tion of the settlers, the English should transport them
by hundreds as they had transported the Acadians. A
breath of generous wrath passed through the various
groups ; with a little army of men like these, New
France might be reconquered, and the banner of Mont-
calm might again float on the breeze.

John Canada could do what he would with all the
men assembled in his hall, and nevertheless he hesi-
tated. While he gave himself body and soul to the
suffering and oppressed, he wished as long as possible
to delay the outbreak of a movement whose success
could not with any certainty be counted on. Prudence
put him on his guard against rash enthusiasm. Yet,
he knew that each one of the envoys had spoken truly ;
oppression was leading to revolt, and the vanquished
would rather, if need be, have died with arms in their
hands than have seen their most sacred rights trampled
under by brute force.

For many a long year had John Canada sustained
and consoled the sons of the heroic defenders of their
country and kept alive the energy of the survivors of
twenty glorious battles. He was the distributor of
alms and the living sou] of tlie people ; the love of his

Secret Audiences*

vanquished country seemed to find its chosen home in
his hreast, and when he declared that henceforth he
would bear the name of John Canada, all looked on him
as the very personification and representative of the
country. With his manly soul and his tender heart he
had remained completely a Frenchman ; he spoke of the
" old country " with a fervour which could not fail to
communicate itself to his hearers ; he consoled weeping
mothers, he received travellers, opened his dwelling to
all who were in trouble, and exercised through a large
sphere a sort of royal authority against which no one
protested.

He knew full well that the English dreaded him and
that the police were on the watch to take him, but he
continued his mission, well assured that he would not
fall until the hour appointed by God.

Besides, John Canada in no degree deceived himself ;
he knew that whatever the result of the struggle he
would fall in it. He had already made the sacrifice of
his life, he only wished that it should not be given
without gaining something for the great cause he had
espoused.

And now, when he must give an answer to the mes-
sengers who were waiting his decision in respectful si-
lence not unmixed with visible tokens of impatience, a
vision of blood rose before the eyes of Montcalm's ancient
comrade. He saw himself as he had been on the even-
ing of that battle which had decided the fate of thousands
and changed the nationality of a territory as vast as the
Old World. He asked himself whether he had done

John Canada,

well to keep alive the sacred fire of patriotism whie^
was burning in every heart, and whether a terrible
responsibility did not weigh on him in regard to the
fearful events which were now inevitable. But there
was no time to be spent in such dreams, the groups of
young men and the Indian chiefs had all gathered
round him.

*' The hour has come, John Canada ! God has made
it plain ! Answer us, will you be our chief ? Nothing
can now prevent the holy war."

" Nothing ?** asked Montcalm's friend.

"No! Nothing!" answered all, "we must deliver
ourselves from the English, or die !"

"You hear thcL , O -y God!" said John Canada;
" the voice of the oppressed is to me as Thy voice."

He motioned hi J ir^nds '^i^kward with a slow and
solemn gesture, and went to the great clock. Then
drawing from his breast a very small key which hung
to a little iron chain, he opened the ebony door of the
2lock-case and took from its hiding-place a stafiE round
which were rolled some silken rags.

A rapid movement soon unfurled them, and the
messengers who thronged round John Canada saw with
surprise and emotion the embroidered lilies of the ancient
banner of New France.

An unanimous cry of affection and enthusiasm burst
from the lips of all present — " France for ever !"

No one now remembered that France had abandoned
the conquered country, and allowed her once brilliant
and noblo daughter to be torn from her bosom. No

Secret Audiences.

one now recalled the mocking words of Voltaire about
the "acres of snow" in Canada — words which had
elicited no protest or remonstrance. France Lad played
the part of a step-mother, bat New France loved her
still ; and the sight of the tattered and soiled banner
with its half-broken staff, brought tears to the eyes of
the Canadians.

The Marquis of Coetquen pressed the glorious trophy
to his lips. " I find thee here," he said ; " I bless thee
and welcome thee ! Far away, a red and mud- stained
rag has been set up, and men have told us, * this is the
banner of France !' It is false ! The lilies of St. Louis
and of Jeanne d' Arc are our standard ! I have fled from
revolution, anarchy, and the scaffold ; here I find my
country I I remember that I am a nobleman, and I beg
you to count me as a soldier !"

" I cannot boast of my skill in navigating your
rivers," said Halgan — " you know how I fared in the
Rapids of la Chine, my dear host — but I can use a
musket and a boarding-axe, and where the Marquis of
Coeiquen is you will find me."

" I claim a place at your side, my lord," said Fatira ;
" in Canada as in France I am in your service."

The Silver-haired Maiden looked at Patira with
simple-hearted admiration.

" It is well I" she exclaimed, " yes ! it is well ! you
are worthy to be the young chief of the children of the
Abenaquis and Algonquins."

" And you ?" asked Patira, " what will you do, if
there is war, Nonpareille P"

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John Canada.

" I will dress the wounds of the warriors.**

Father Flavian came forward. " Bloodshed appals
me," he said, " but you are rising for a good cause ;
may the blessing of God be upon you, and the blessing
of the aged, the weak, and the oppressed ! If I cannot
promise you victory I consecrate you to martyrdom.**

The men bowed their heads as the missionary raised
his trembling hand, and John Canada replaced the
banner of Montcalm in its secret hiding-place.

Hands were pressed and ardent wishes interchanged ;
in another hour all John Canada's guests were sleeping
beneath the roof of the Great Hut; they needed no
other bed than the bison's skin, and hope filled their
sleep with dreams of glory and of liberty.

CHAPTER IV.

THE SILVER-HAIRED MAIDEN.

The situation of the Great Hut was sufficiently
isolated to secure John Canada's friends from a descent
of the police; but the English had in their service
Hurons who were greedy of spoil and eager to bring
back scalps to their wigwams. The English employed
the Mingos in deeds which they would not themselves
have done. The greatest circumspection was therefore
needed, and when meetings, such as that of which we
have spoken, were held at the Great Hut, John
Canada's guests waited till the fallowing night before

The Silser'haired Maiden.

undertaking their return journey to Montreal through
the forest. In the morning, on this present
occasion, the assembly assumed another character.
While John Canada accepted the idea of armed re-
sistance, that of battle was repugnant to him. He was
too well aware of the military strength of England to
approve of an attack which must end in wholesale
slaugater. Therefore, in a more tranquil assembly he
insisted that time should be taken for the preparations
indispensable before action. A hecatomb of heroes
could not have saved the country. Before all things
it was necessary to form the colonists and Indians into
regiments, and make ready for the mortal struggle
with such care and mystery, that it might avail for the
deliverance of New France. John Canada believed
that at least a year would be required in order to attain
this result.

During the great council held that day, John Canada
brought out an enormous register bound in red, and
laying it on the table, turned over the leaves and read
to his hearers some extracts from the heart-rending
chronicle. It was the history of twenty-five years of
oppression, the daily memorial of all the horrors com-
mitted. Every page bore stains of tears or of blood.
This immense record related the crimes committed hour
by hour by the conquerors against a disarmed popula-
tion. The cry of the oppressed sometimes took the
tone of prayer, and sohietimes that of despair. The
book had not all been written by John Canada ; the
differences of handwriting and of style, showed that

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John Canada.

(■_

■4'

various hands and diverse characters had been engaged
in the work. Men who had been robbed, calumniated,
and insulted ; women who had been treacherously made
widows ; orphans who had no support save charity, had
recorded their sufferings on these pages. Eloquent
words told of the devotion of the missionary ; and the
chief whose hand could wield the tomahawk, but could
not express his ideas with the pen, had simply painted
on these pages, signs and figures which embodied his
tale.

Every one of the passing guests of the Great Hut in
turn gazed upon the stem and bloody pages : and on
the last leaf of the volume were inscribed the names of
those who were longing for the resurrection of New
France.

The strength of the tribes, the number of Canadians
capable of bearing arms, the funds that could be col-
lected, were all calculated with the greatest care by the
chiefs of the movement, and it was decided that unless
any unforeseen event should occur, the struggle should
begin in the following spring.

" We must go through six months of ice and snow,"
said John Canada ; " not until the rivers and torrents
flow freely can we begin a warfare which will see us
conquer or die on the battle-field. Meanwhile, I will
travel through the length and breadth of Canada ; the
Abenaquis and the Algonquins will see me seated at
their council fire." The duty of recruiting friends to
aid the sacred cause was confided to John Canada's
guests, and each one swore that he would never lose

iTw Silver-haired Maiden.

sight of the mission which was henceforth to be the
aim of his life and the goal of his hopes.

The farewells spoken as the assembly broke up, were
grave, and even George Malo, the most ardent for
the coming struggle, left the Great Hut under the
impression produced by a momentous decision.

The Canadian envoys. Red Skins and Pale Faces,
had gathered together for the eveningmeal, and Pierced-
Heart, Oak of the White Moss, and the other chiefs,
took the road to their villages, while George Malo and
his friends went to Montreal and the last-comers pro«
ceeded to their habitations.

Soon no visitor remained at the Great Hut, save
Tanguy, Halgan, Patira, Herv^, and the missionary.

While the men were conversing on serious subjects
the young ones were chatting in an under-tone. From
time to time a fresh young laugh was heard, as Herve
played with Nonpareille's silver hair.

" Patira," said Herv^, " are we going to leave this
house and return to the town ? Everything here is so
beautiful; there are such fine bears' skins, and such
weapons hanging on the walls, and then Mingo is so
gentle, and Phebus so merry ; and besides, listen to me,
Patira, I will not come away from the Great Hut
unless I can bring with me the girl that calls me the
Wood-Wren."

John Canada heard the child's words. " My Lord
Marquis," he said, " you hear this little despot ! No
doubt your aid would be of the greatest value to us at
Montreal, but you are a French Emigrant, and as such

nfJj

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t'i i

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John Canada,

will soon be an object of suspicion to the police. You
seek to be in peace until the day when you can serve a
great cause, is it not so P"

"Yes," replied Tanguy, **I want quiet, for I have
suffered, suffered dreadfully/'

" Then make yourself a dwelling like this — establish
yourself in the country as a settler. The government
will grant you a tract of land, on condition of the
approval of the Indians, the ancient owners of the
soil. A few barrels of brandy, some blankets and fire-
arms, will procure a regular concession for you, for you
must observe that the government which spoils and
decimates us, makes a point of keeping up the appear-
ance of legality.*'

"The product of the merchandise on board my
ship would pay for a French department,*' said
Halgan.

" We understand one another," replied John Canada,
" our object is one, let us make an alliance which will
strengthen both of us. The erection of a house like
mine is neither costly nor tedious, although you must
acquire land to make a settlement, the woods are at
hand, and workmen are numerous, so that in three
months, that is to say, before winter sets in, you may
be installed."

** I like the idea," said Tanguy; " do you approve of
it, father?"

** So thoroughly," answered Halgan, " that to-morrow
T will go to Montreal, and take the preliminary steps for
ibtaining the concession of which our host has spoken."

The Silver- haired Maiden,

"We shall not go away from NonpareilleP" asked
Herve.

Nonpareille understood the child's loving inquiry,
and taking him on her lap, covered him with her long
hair as with a veil.

On the morrow, Halgan started for Quebec; the
brilliant sunshine was lighting up those rapids which
1 almost proved so fatal to his family, and he gazer!
with curiosity and wonder on the immense forest which
girt the horizon. His heart was satisfied with the
prospect of living peaceably in these remote wilds until
circamstances might render a return to France possible
to him and those he loved.

The business which he had to transact at Montreal
proved neither tedious nor difficult. He had money
enough for the purchase of land, and a native of the
country undertook to make a distribution of brandy and
p K)wder in his name, and to obtain in return a
c jsion of the territory from ita Indian possessors.
When he returned from Montreal, Captain Halgan
brought with him a score of woodmen, carpenters and
joiners, and several servants.

John Canada gave the new colonists the aid of his
experience, and it was decided that their dwelling
should be made on the model of their host's. A strong
palisade was to surround and defend it.

Patira, Herv^, and Nonpareille wandered about among
the woodmen who were felling the ancient giants of
the forest. More than once the little Indian maiden
seemed saddened by the fate of some grand tree ; she

( 4

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John Canada,

did not yet understand that it was absolutely neces-
sary to have some settled and stable abode ; she had
grown up in a hut made of interwoven branches,
and thought that life was as peaceful and happy in
such a dwelling-place as it could be within the most
solid walls. She regretted the shady foliage; she
grieved over the nests which were in the fallen branches ;
and when the sap flowed under the strokes of the axe,
it seemed to her like the generous blood pouring from
some great wound. But Patira could soon dispel her
mournful dreamings by a song, or Herve by a caress.

** Why should the Wren's father build a house?"
she asked; "is not ours large enough? When the
Mingos are in the woods we must think of coming near
one another to be safe from them."

Pati^-a had become the friend and protector of the
little Indian maiden. Her picturesque language, her
sweet voice, and her eloquent words had a great charm
for him. The memory of but two women lived
in his soul ; the Marchioness of Coetquen, whom he
often saw in his dreams, with her blue robe, and her
fair flowing hair, or again in the dark attire which
had served her as a winding-sheet — and the gentle,
pitiful Claudia, who had defended him against John
Anvil's violence, and whom in the last day she had spent
in Brittany, he had seen weeping and half mad, lead-
ing her hungry children along the roads and over the
wide- stretching plains. To Patira's imagination the
Silver-haired Maiden appeared as a being unlike all
Dthers, clothed in poetical mystery. He loved her, but

The Silver-haired Maiden,

not without a kind of awe. She seemed to belong to
the race of Korigaus, rather than to that of ordinary
maidens, and but that he had seen her bow ^ .c head to
receive the missionary's blesring, he would perhaps
have never believed that she was not a kind of fairy or
nymph. Everything about her tended to keep up the
idea of mystery. The long white hair which reached
down to her feet, gave her a kind of ethereal appear-
ance. But the thing that struck Patira most was, that
for Nonpareille darkness had no existence ; the beauti-
ful eyes of the maiden were gifted with the faculty of
seeing in the dark, as certain nocturnal birds can do.
No one who saw her by day could have guessed that
she had this strange power, for her eyes were bright,
clear, and transparent, and possessed a depth of expres-
sion unusual in one so young.

" Nonpareille," said Patira to her one day, " you are
not the daughter of our friend, and yet you call him
father."

" Like the bird whose name she bears, the little
Indian girl grew up in the great forest. Her mother
rocked her by day in a hammock of flowers, and by
night upon her breast."

" And Nonpareille's mother is dead ?" asked Patira.

The girl's great eyes sparkled, a shudder passed
through her frame, and in a low and sorrowful voice
she replied, " Nonpareille's mother is dead. The
Hurons slew her. One night the war-cry was heard,
the enemy came — the tomahawk did its deadly work
— the Blue Owlet sought to curry Nonpareille away

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John Canada.

and save her, but an arrow pierced her, and cast her to
the ground."

" And Nonpareille's father ?"

" The English slew the husband of the Blue Owlet ;
the Great Beaver was a famous chief."

" And how were you saved P" inquired Patira.

"The Black Kobe has often told me about it.
Father Flavian was returning from Lake Superior
with the master of the Great Hut ; they were passing
through the desolated village ; Nonpareille was moan-
ing among the dead ; John Canada took her away as
a treasure and kept her safe. As Nonpareille grew
she learned to bless Father Flavian's God. Father
Flavian poured on her brow the water that makes the
soul pure like an angel's, and the child of the tribe of
Great Beavers adores the Lord Jesus and kisses the
holy cross.

" And tell me, Nonpareille, have you never regretted
the forests P"

" My tribe is scattered, Patira. My heart dwells in the
Great Hut. John Canada has been kind like a father.
His words are never false, and his soul opens to all
sorrows. The Black Kobe says John Canada is a saint,
and Black Bison declares that he is a great warrior.
What more can poor Nonpareille want ? She used to
think the Great Hut dull and dark, and the words of
Black Bison and John Canada too grave, but you have
come, Patira, you have come with Herv^, and the face
of everything is changed. There are songs and laughter
in the house, as there are in the forests : the Black

Lyb.

' '!

fhe Silver-haired Maiden.

Hobe and Jolin Canada are Nonpareille's fathers, but
you are my brother, and it seems to me that you have
always lived in this country, and that your voice has
always been sounding in my ears."

Sometimes, while the silver-haired maiden talked to
Patira of the half-faded memories of her childhood,
she would thread wampums with which she liked to
adorn Herve's neck, or would embroider supple mo-
cassins of deer- skin for Patira.

"The Hurons are a wicked race," she said, "and
nothing will change their hearts. Rapids that are
nearly calm on the surface, are to be distrusted. The
print of a European's shoe through the forest would
soon betray his race, but one mocassin is like another,
and all the skill of the Red Skins is often unable to
distinguish them. I never wish to see war-paint on
your skin, which is of a different hue from mine, but
if the Hurons should come — the Hurons who killed
my mother the J31ue Owlet, or the English allies of
the Hurons, you would take a musket, and you would
fight side-by-side with John Canada. Nonpareille
knows not how to use arrows or lances, and the Black
Robe would not have us avenge our dead kindred.*'

The construction of the new dwelling went on
rapidly under the Marquis of Coetquen's direction, and
the young ones spent many hours amusing themselves in
the halls of the Great Hut, or on the banks of the river.

While the workmen were putting the logs together,
and squaring the trunks of the trees, Tanguy some-
tir/ios lost himself in memories of former days ; in place

M'f

John Canada,

of the dwelling framed of the oak and the maple, the
Castle of Ooetquen rose like a vision before his mind,
with its massive towers, of which the highest and most
gloomy had served as a dungeon for Blanche Halgan,
and had heard the first infant wail of Herve, mingled
with the sobs of his fair young mother.

When evening fell and the mists began to float over
the vast river, Tanguy would think of the great lake
which formed a double girdle around the feudal manor,
and in the midst of which its ruins now stood.

Tanguy in his exile mourned not for his great fortune,
or for the grandeur of Coetquen ; had Blanche been
at his side, he could have lived happily in the log-house ;
with her and Herve, his old ancestral halls or the
shores of the St. Lawrence, or the gloomy shades of the
great forest would have been full of joy.

It was not long before John Canada surmised that
some grief even deeper than that of exile was preying
on the heart of his guest. The chivalrous character
of the Lord of Coetquen had won his heart; with
the gentle patience of a friend, and the skilful prudence
of a physician, he sought to discover the secret sorrow
of his soul. One evening when Tanguy and his host
were alone together, the former related the mournful
history of the Round Tower, the treachery of his
brothers, the tragic fate of Blanche and the devotion
of Patira ; he spoke of his own despair, his attempted
suicide, his sojourn in the Abbey of Lehon, the provi-
dential manner in which Patira had secured a boat
and finally of his meeting with the Lady of Gaul.

The Silver-haired Maiden,

" I have now," said John Canada, " a new reason for
loving you. Though I seem rather too old to be your
brother, my heart is as fresh as when I was twenty
and as full of affection. I had not guessed your secret
but I had seen that you were in sorrow, let me now
share that sorrow with you, and your burden will be
lightened."

From the hour when Tanguy made John Canada the
confidant of his history, a most intimate friendship was
established between them and the two noble-hearted
men were constantly together.

John Canada was sorry to see his friend's abode com-
pleted, and although Tanguy promised to visit him
frequently, he could not but regret their separation.

" Besides," he added, " what is to become of Non-
pareille without your boy and Patira? "Who could
have imagined that slight delicate-looking youth to be
such a hero P"

** It would indeed astonish and trouble Patira, if he
were told that his young life is richer in noble deeds
than that of many men of mature years."

If John Canada thought anxiously of the solitude
which would again be Nonpareille's portion when his
guests left the Great Hut, Patira had another cause
for uneasiness. He knew that the distance between the
two habitations would signify little ; after his nightly
journeys from John Anvil's house to the Round Tower,
it seemed an easy thing to run from one hut to the
other. But, accustomed as he was to the massive
structure of Coetquen, and the granite walls of the

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John Canada,

Abbey of Lehon, he felt some alarm regarding the
materials employed in the erection of the Marquis'
new dwelling-place. The manor of Coetquen had
indeed been attacked by fire, but its solid stone work
and gigantic towers had been blackened, not destroyed.
The besieged Castle and Abbey had lost their splendour
and beauty, yet their ruins were still grand, and the
storm of revolution had not been able altogether to
anihilate them. But what would be the fate of Tanguy's
new habitation in the event of an .3sault? In this
country of wondrous forests, the earth i^ rich in
metals of various kinds, but the working of mines is so
costly, that people shrink from spending large sums
of money for a small and uncertain profit. Of what,
use to Patira was his skill as a blacksmith and lock-
maker — that skill which had enabled him to save Herve,
and preserve the Treasure of the Abbey — if he could
not procure any iron to melt in the furnace of a
forge, to hammer on the anvil, and fashion into sword-
blade or plough-share P With John Canada's words
in his mind, and the knowledge that war was in all
probability not far distant, Patira begged Captain
Halgan to give him a note for the mate of the Lady
of Gaul, desiring the young man to hand over to him
various things which he wished to convey to the new
dwelling-place.

** I understand," said Halgan, " you are afraid that
Tan guy will feel the want of some of the furniture
which was placed in my cabin."

" Exactly so, Captain ; wiU you write ? I will myself

The Silver-haired Maiden.

go to Montreal, before the vessel leaves her moorings
and will bring back the things required."

" Do as you think well, my boy."

Patira borrowed several carts and went to the
town.

He had the furniture of the Captain's cabin and of
Tanguy's placed in one of them, but he also filled
two with other things whose nature he kept secret
from everyone. He had to spend several hours in re-
moving the desired objects, he then packed the carts
securely, and himself drove the first.

When he approached the Great Hut, instead of
entering it, he turned to the right and went to Tanguy's
future abode, passed into the palisaded court, and then,
having awakened Toyo and Tambou, made them help
liim in the heavy work of unlading the carts. More
than once the negroes were overcome with fatigue,
and begged for a respite, but Patira was pitiless, and
it was not till the dawn of day that he led the oxen
back to the Great Hut.

Halgan was equally surprised and delighted when he
saw the change which two of the rooms had undergone.
A kind of elegance now reigned in them and with
a little good- will Tanguy might have fancied himself
in a chamber at Coetquen.

As to the rest of the contents of the three carts,
Patira had shut them up in a spacious subterranean
hall, whose entrance Toyo and Tambou vainly en-
deavoured to find the next day.

At last, at the end of two months, the massive doors

John Canaiia.

were in their places, and the smoke of the new habita-
tion might be seen rising towards heaven ; the house
was ready for its masters. The sadness of John
Canada's heart was disguised beneath an affectation
of good humour. Nonpareille who was less accustomed
to overcome her feelings, wept while she embraced
Herv^.

Hands were closely grasped, words of affection were
spoken, and a few hours later, Tanguy, Halgan, Herv^,
and Patira, were sleeping in the house of the Rapids.

CHAPTER V.

SEPARATION.

Deep darkness covered the moonless sky, the great
river, and the mysterious forest. The different sounds
that filled the air, alone indicated the position of the
forest and of the giant stream. Smothered groans and
prolonged whistling were heard among the branches,
while the thunder of the rapids and the surging of the
waves against the rocks were even more alarming than
the confused voices of the wind among the foliage or
the tread of a panther as he rustled through the under-
wood. Meanwhile, two men, whose whispering tones
betrayed disquietude of mind, were walking along
the bank of the river from whose bosom a veil of mist
was slowly rising. In the midst of the darkness, in the
solitude which seemed so complete, it might have been

Separation.

thought that they were afraid of spies and scented
danger on the breeze. They were followed by two
intelligent animals, which seemed to understand their
masters' thoughts, to conform themselves to their mood,
and imitate their prudence.

The two men were soon opposite a habitation where
the veiled light of a lamp was shining through the
interstices of a window.

" They know my signal/* said one of the wanderers,
and putting his two hands up to his lips, he uttered a
sound like the prolonged cry of the screech-owl.

Almost at the same instant, a window opened, and
a similar cry was heard in response, and immediately
afterwards the sound of keys turning in locks, and of
bars being drawn back, proved that the visitors were
about to be admitted.

" Is it you, Patira ?" asked one of the men.

" Yes, Father," replied the youth, who recognised the
voice of the missionary, ** the Marquis and the Captain
are waiting for you in the inner hall."

The youth barred the doors, turned the keys in the
locks, and went on before Father Flavian and John
Canada.

A messenger had informed the Marquis of Coetquen
that John Canada would come to the house of the
Eapids in the course of the night. Halgan was putting
together notes for a future account of his voyages to
the Indies, and his son-in-law, by the aid of documents
which John Canada had procured for him, was pre-
paring a history of Montcalm's campaigns.

John Canada.

Herv^ was sleeping in the upper chamber, and Non-
pareille who had been for two days at the house of the
Bapids, had obtained permission to sit up with Patira,
who, with the patience of an artist, was carving a dagger
for the little Indian maid, while she embroidered a doe-
skin case for him.

After he had brought the missionary into the
Marquis's room, Patira returned to Nonpareille.

" Who has come ?" she asked.

** Father Flavian and John Canada are here."

" At this hour of the night ! something serious is
going on, and Nonpareille is afraid."

" Her friends know that she is brave,'* replied Patira ;
" if there is danger she will be told of it."

The two young people continued their work, but
Patira*8 hand was often idle, and more than once Non-
pareille's embroidery lay on her lap.

Meanwhile, the men downstairs were conversing con-
fidentially together.

" Are you then in danger ?" asked Tanguy, coming
c'los^ to the Canadian.

" Danger is an atmosphere in which I am accustomed
to live," answered John with a smile. " If it were not
my duty to take care of myself for the sake of the
party which looks to me as its head, I should long
since have been carried away by the natural impetu-
osity of my character, and acting under the impulse
of generous indignation, I should doubtless have
fallen into some one of the snares which are continually
laid for me. Until the day when my death can serve

Separation.

the cause which I defend and whose triumph I hope to
secure, I will resolutely guard my life ; my conduct
this evening proves it sufficiently."

" Are you being pursued ?'* asked Tanguy.

" A little while ago," rejoined John Canada, " I was
preparing to go down to Montreal, and was loosing my
bark canoe from its accustomed mooring-place by a
tuft of reeds, when I saw a man approach whom I know
to be my mortal enemy."

" You have never done harm to any one/*

** Certainly not ! but the individual whom I recog-
nised in spite of his disguise, has the greatest interest
in my capture or my death ; you will understand it at
once, when I say that he is an obscure underling of
the police and aspires to a higher situation. The
miserable creature has the ambition of a giant. He
now crouches like a slave, but if he can attain his end,
his pride will know no bounds, and will outdo that of
Gorton himself. The gad-fly threatens the lion, the
serpent hisses and prepares his venom. In spite of the
white wig in which his head was hidden, of his great
slouched hat, and the coat which hung loosely on his
thin miserable form, I recognised Jefferson, or rather
I felt he was there."

" Does he mean to have you arrested ?"

" On what pretext could he do it ? I am doing nothing
criminal or illegal."

" But then ?" asked the Captain.

" He wishes to put me out of the way, that is simpler,
and causes less noise. If Jefferson was wandering

John Canada.

curiously around my house, it was no doubt to ascertain
my means of defence, and to plan the best way of
taking it by assault."

" What did you do when you recognised the agent
of police ?" asked Tanguy.

" I deliberately unmoored my boat, and steered my
course towards the Bapids of La Chine ; after having
passed them I went quietly on to Montreal. A boat-
man undertook to carry ray canoe on his back and leave
it opposite the Great Hut, and I hastened to George
Malo. He knew by public rumours which filled some
with sorrow and others with exultation, that the govern-
ment had determined to bring matters to an end with
me, and that the most rigorous measures would be taken
with all who aspire to restore the integrity of
the Canadian territory. The journey which I must
necessarily take to rally all our scattered forces, is
hastened by circumstances. If I were to stay another
month in the neighbourhood of Montreal, I should
silently disappear, and with me, perhaps, would perish
the last hope of those who have remained French. I
depart therefore by night, and none of my servants
will betray the mystery of this sudden journey ; Father
Flavian accompanies me. George Malo is entrusted
with the political direction of affairs at Montreal. I
should be very glad if you would see him from time to
time. He has a noble generous heart. I entrust
Nonpareille to you. Treat her as a sister of Herve and
Patira."

" You will not take Black Bison with you ? **

Separation,

" He will serve us as a messenger if we want to com*
municate with each other."

" When shall we hear from you P "

" As often as possible, but the country is very large I
You may rest assured that my heart is with you."

" Cannot you wait for daylight ? these forests are
dangerous — "

" To-morrow our way may be intercepted, the tribes
friendly to the English may be lying in wait for us."

An expression of deep pain passed over Tanguy's
features as he enquired " has Father Flavian strength
to go with you ? "

" My dear son," said the missionary, " the savages
can but kill me. Thrice have I been bound to the
stake, thrice have I been delivered almost as miracu-
lously as the Apostle was delivered by the Angel. And
this poor old head of mine has been scalped."

" You have undergone that martyrdom ! " exclaimed
Tanguy.

The missionary slowly took off the skull-cap which
covered his forehead and came down on the back of his
head, and Halgan and the Marquis of Coetquen saw
a sight which excited their terror and surprise. All the
skin of the head had been removed with the hair and
a red line marked the course of the knife. After this
fearful barbarity had been inflicted on him. Father
Flavin ^ id lain as if dead amid the smoking embers and

-e corpses which strewed the place once occupied by
an Algo^ uin village ; the compassion of a woman
sav d him. The icure of so terrible a wound was con-

John Canada.

sidored almost an impossibility, but, thanks to her know-
ledge of healing herbs and her charity, the missionary
survived. It was a deep grief to him to live on, though
he never said so, wishing to submit completely to the
Holy Will of God. He had almost tasted death find
now life was bitter to him. Amidst his horrible suffer-
ings the vision of eternity had smiled upon him ; he
had heard the rustle of the angels' wings — and then
the celestial apparition had faded away, his woimds had
been healed, life resumed its course, and again he re-
sumed his apostolic labours. Who can describe the
fervour of the prayers of this man who had deemed
himself so near the vision of his God ? Who can tell
the number of the tears that flowed from his aged
eyes ? Since he had undergone this fearful torture he
had seemed to grow gentler than ever, to have more
tenderness for little children and more compassion for
I oor sinners. The Canadians revered him as a saint, and
the converted Indians could not look on his venerable
head without remembering that their hands had also
wielded the scalping knife, and then the bloodstained
trophies that adorned their fathers' huts appalled them
instead of making them proud. Father FI ivian loved
his red children dearly. He thought that the mission-
ary joux'ney which he was now about to undertake in
John Canada's company, would be his last, and that he
v,'ould fall by the river s side c • beneath the shade of
the forest, leaving his body to earth while his soul was
received by the angels, and he rejoiced at the hope of
seeing face to face the Master to whom he had de-
voted his whole being.

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John CI
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i: fi

Separation.

When the three men had finished their conversation,
John Canada rose, shook Halgan's and Tanguy*8 hands
affectionately and asked —

" Is Nonpareille sleeping ? "

" She is waiting to see you.**

'' Beg her to come down."

In another imoment the Silver-haired maiden appear-
ed in the great hall accompanied by Patira who seemed
to be hci" living shadow.

" My child," said John Canada, " I leave you at the
call of duty, and I trust you to friends. If any misfor-
tune happens to me, stay with them. Your father and
mother are dead, you have no family save the great
family of the Canadians and the French."

" Nonpareille understands,*' said the young girl in
her sweet voice, "she has taken Patira for her
brother."

The Silver-haired Maiden threw herself into John
Canada's arms, and, in spite of her violent efforts to
control her emotion, burning tears rose to her eyes.
For a moment she sobbed, leaning on the shoulder of
her deliverer ; this sudden weakness on the part of a
child of that race in v^hich the power of mastering the
impressions of physical pain seems hereditary, was a
proof of filial affection far beyond what would have
been given by the strongest protestations. Accordingly
John Canada pressed her to his heart with emotion for
which the sadness of farewells and the dangers of the
journey but too fully accounted.

At last the time for parting had come: John Canada

John Canada.

went into the court accompanied by Halgan and the
Marquis of Coetquen, Patira again drew back the iron
bars, opened the locks, and unfastened the bolts. John
Ciinada's two companions were again at their master's
side ; these companions were Phebus and Mingo.

He laid his hand on the head of the dog which
seemed to look at him with an inquiring eye.

"Yes, Phebus!'* h«3 said, " yes, my good dog, you may
follow us, but you must be mute, as mute as if every
bark might call up one of our Huron foes. You, Mingo
stay in this house; you would be of no use to us
in the forests but here you will take care of Non-
parcille."

The girl stroked the great head of the bear gently
with her little hand, he growled in a friendly manner
appearing to understand his master's words and to re-
sign himself.

" Are your arms in good order ? " inquired Tanguy.

" I have my crucifix in my girdle,*' answered the
missionary.

" I have plenty of powder and shot,'* said John
Canada.

" And provisions ? '*

"We take enough for throe days and Providence
will care for the rest."

With a lust warm pressure of the hands of his friends,
the defender of Canada's cause left the enclosure sur-
rounding the House of the Rupids.

Halgan and the Marquis of Coetquen could no longer
see them through the black night but tho sound of

Separation,

their footsteps reached the ear, by-and-by it was lost
among the murmurs of the wind through the branches,
and the rippling of the waters against the rocks. Then
Tanguy and Halgan left the outer gate against whose
posts they had been leaning, and returned into the
court : Patira replaced the iron bars, and with Non-
pareille, returned to the great hall ; Mingo, probably
understanding that he had been made over to a new
owner, rubbed himself caressingly against the silver-
haired maiden and rested his head upon her knees.

For a long time complete silence reigned ; all knew
that John Canada had taken the first step in a terrible,
perhaps even fatal, course. The young ones said nothing,
and Nonpareille was secretly wiping away her tears.
At last, in obedience to Tanguy's affectionate desire,
Patira and his companion went upstairs, and the silver-
haired maiden having roused the maid- servant appointed
by Tanguy to attend on her, quietly let herself be un-
dressed, without any of the charming words which
generally flowed from her lips. She felt that she had
for the second time been left an orphan.

On the morrow Tanguy's advice, and Herve's childish
fondness did something to console her • she went on
with the embroidery of her hunting-poach, and then
begged Patira to make a collar for Mingo. These occu-
pations filled up the day, and after two more had passed,
the Marquis of Coetquen told Herve and Nonpareille,
that they were to begin a course of study whose value
they would hereafter understand.

John Canada had not been mistaken in believing that

John Canada.

he had seen Jefferson in the neighbourhood of the
Great Hut. The police agent was preparing for the
attack. Although he had great confidence in the skill of
the Indians whom he meant to employ in the execution
of his projects, he was not a man to leave anything to
cliance. A rapid sketch of the position and accurate
notes regarding the arrangement of the different build-
ings, would enable the Hurons to win an easy victory.
Jefferson acccordingly returned home gay aad cheerful.
His eyes shone brightly under their lids and an un-
wonted excitement was betrayed by every movement.
He looked at his miserable house with a kind of scorn-
ful pity, and seemed to apologise to his daughter for
the hard work which was her daily portion.

" Soon you will be rich !" he said.

** Father,*' replied Margaret, " I am not ambitious as
you know — what you give me is enough for me — if I
can read, and pray, and work, and when a bird chances
to pass, sing, I want no more. Yes, indeed, if I were
rich, I would make a good use of my fortune, but in the
meantime, until I can give the poor money, I do what I
can to console them. I weep with them in their
troubles, and I constantly tell them to hope on."

** You do well ! very well !" said Jefferson, shortly.
He was alarmed at his daughter's purity and goodness,
when he thought of his own baseness. While Margaret
was laying the table, her father mechanically took up
a book which was lying close to her work-basket. He
'vas struck by its name : ** The Canadian Hero." It
was an account of Montcalm. In her solitudo Margaret

Separation.

loved to live with saints and with great men. Her
soul expanded as she read of devotion or patriotism.
But for the timidity which repressed the aspirations of
her heart, she might have been capable of glorious
deeds; she was reserved, and the fear of attracting
attention, or being the object of admiration, would
have soon brought her back to the quiet duties of a
retired life.

" Who lent you this book, Margaret ?'* asked
Jefferson, in a voice which he endeavoured to soften.
" It will not do for the daughter of a loyal subject of
England to seem to admire Montcalm — and this other
volume ? a popish work ! how little regard you have for
a father's counsels ! If an ill-disposed stranger were
to see these two books in my house, it would probably
cost me my place."

" Mother was an Acadian and a Catholic," answered
Margaret, gently ; *' you promised her that my thoughts
and my soul should be left free."

** Certainly ! certdinly !" said Jefferson, " I was wrong
to be angry. Two men are at warfare within me, tlie
father and the official. The father wishes what you
wish, and loves what you love. The poor official
becomes cowardly and servile before the power of his
superiors. If I were to lose my situatioii, what
would become of us P'*

" I would work for you," answered Margaret.

" Yes ! yes ! I know you would, you are fond of me,
and now I appeal to your affection. I am in a difficult
position, I have many enemies, I ask you not to do any-

John Canada.

thing that may compromise me. If your mother led you
to look on Montcalm as a hero, it is not necessary that
everj'body should know your opinion. And be on your
guard against any appearance of zeal, and don't get en-
tangled with the Papists. I am myself a Protestant ! "

Margaret sighed and calmly replied, " I will try to
respect your wishes without going against my con-
science."

" Come ! you are a good girl, Margaret, you are not
annoyed with me ? '*

" How could I be annoyed with my father P "

" Kiss me then."

"With all my heart."

After the evening meal, Jefferson prepared to leave
the house.

* You are going out, father ? " asked Margaret.

" Yes, important business "

" "Will you be long away ? "

"Perhaps I may."

" Very well," said Margaret, " I will wait for you."

The police-agent went out and Margaret leaning at
the window, watched him depart. Her father's re-
proaches had cast a deep sadness into her heart. In
spite of Jefferson's kindness, she felt that a separation
existed between them. The Acadian's daughter had
inherited the virtues of the departed ; she treasured, her
Catholic Faith and her love for the " old country," as
an heirloom. Rarely wore these burning questions
mentioned between the father and daughter, but when
circumstances brought them forward, Margaret gently

Separation.

defended her Faith and her political sjTnpathies. She
loved France, not merely because France hud numbered
Canada amongst her discoveries and possessions, but also
and esj)ecially because France wns Catholic. Every
time that Jefferson touched upon any subject connected
with nationality or religion, Margaret's heart was
wounded. She felt that a part of her father's soul was
beyond her reach ; while she knew herself to be beloved
by this cold and hard man, she guessed that the burden
of some secret or sorrow was weighing on his life. She
did not venture to ask a question ; she pitied him, and
her fervent prayers were mingled with tears.

That evening as Jefferson went away, Margaret felt
a sense of loneliness come upon her. She had fallen
into a sort of aimless reverie with her eyes fixed on the
stunted trees which grew near her window, when the
sound of a church-bell suddenly startled her.

It seemed as if the voice of God was calling her.

She answered the invitation which floated from afar
to her ear, by a deep-drawn sigh. Her father beiug
absent she was free. While he was occupied about his
business, Margaret had time to think of God. She
wrapped her cloak around her, shut the door, and turned
her step to the church.

The bell was still ringing', and from all sides men,
women, and children, were hastening to the house of
God, to seek the refreshment and strength, the heavenly
light and the fire of charity which their souls needed.
The rich brought their wealth to the Saviour's feet and
the poor laid their miseries before Him. The power of

John Canada.

that wonderful communion of souls whicli exist in tlie
Churcli was manifested at that time with all its con-
soling mysteries. Some hastened to the holy place to
find their spiritual guide and friend, others walked
slowly on rapt in the thought of the Divine Saviour
who waB about to hear their prayers and to give them
His blessing. The laughter of children broke joyously
forth from amidst the crowd ; the little ones could only
lay aside their mirth und be devout when kneeling be-
fore the Altar.

Margaret slowly entered the Ghurohj sought a reti^^d
place, and kneeling down, began to pray.

A sound of sobbing beside her thrilled her whole
frame, it seemed to bespeak some immense sorrow, and
Margaret resolved to find out its cause.

The crowd fiUeu the Church, the doors were shut,
the sound of the bell had ceased, but the poor sad woman
kneeling at Margaret's side continued to sob bitterly.

CHAPTER VI.

MARGARET JEFFERSON.

A PREACHER ascended the pulpit, he spoke of the Cross
and of its eternal dominion, then the singing of sacred
hymns rose up to the arched roof and the Office was
ended by solemn Benediction. Margaret had forgotten
the pain which her father's reproaches had caused her ;
her own troubles seemed small compared to the heart-

Margaret Jefferson.

broken grief before her, she forgot to seek for consolation
for herself, and thought of nothing but the poor creature
who was bowed low on the pavement, pouring out her
sorrows to God. When the tapers had been put out,
Margaret gently raised the woman and said to her,
" Come !"

The mourner let herself be raised up, leaned mechan-
ically on the arm which was offered her, and thus walked
down the long nave.

When they had reached the street, Margaret said in a
tone of compassion, " Shall I take you to your home ?'*

" Do you know me P'* said the woman, amid her weep-
ing.

" You are in sorrow — ^I pity and love you ! "

It was a mild, calm evening, a brilliant moon was
rising in the heavens, and by its quiet light the mourner
looked upon the face of her companion.

" Yes," she said, " you are young, you have pity
she went some steps further, and then standing still,
continued : " I am weary, very weary, I live a long
way off."

" What matter ? " rejoined Margaret, " my father
will not be back before ten o'clock."

" I accept your offer then," said the poor woman,
" yes, I accept it, for I could not drag myself home
without assistance."

Margaret and her companion walked for a long time.
The woman was still weeping, but silently ; now and
then she stopped as if completely exhausted, her heart
throbbed fast, she was blinded with tears, her troubled

mmsm

Jo/in Canada.

gaze rested on Margaret and she seemed to discover a
likeness between the beautiful face before her and that
iif some beloved being ; again she resumed her slow
course, dragging her feet along the ground, as if she
had not power to raise them.

It took Margaret more than an hour to bring her to
her miserable dwelling.

For a moment Margaret hesitated, doubting whether
to cross the threshold, but she felt already that she
would like to come back some day, and accordingly she
overcame her timidity and entered the damp basement
story in which the poor woman lived.

When the latter had lighted her lamp, she stretched
out her hands to Margaret, and said, " God bless you !
God bless you in those dear to you !"

" My mother is dead," replied Jefferson's daughter, in
a feeble voice.

" Dead, too ? " said the woman.

" Have you then lost some loved one ? — a child, per-
haps ? "

" I had rather it were so," answered the mother, in a
tone which was almost fierce.

" Oh ! do not speak such words,*' said Margaret,
" surely our Lord has given you strength to for-

give-

»>

" Ko ! no !" said the mother, wringing her hands, " I
have begged God to give me such courage, but I cannot !
I cannot ! There are men more cruel than the panthers
in our woods, men who would drink the blood in our
veins, drop by drop. You have lost your mother I but

Margaret JeJ^erson,

what is the separation for which you moum compared
with that which drives me to despair ? Lucy — my Lucy
is of your age, she is as beautiful as you are — it seems
to me that you are like her, you are so gentle and so
compassionate. This angel of goodness, this saintly
child has been taken from me, stolen from me, thrown
into a prison ''

"Why? Oh! why?" asked Margaret.

" Persecution is persecution," rejoined the widow.
" Canada is Catholic and England is Protestant, that is
a reason, is it not ? "

" And have you not asked for justice ? "

" I have gone on my knees, and bowed my head to the
dust, offering my life and liberty in exchange for hers."

" Poor mother ! " murmured Margaret.

" Do you know the terms that were offered me ? ^*

" Some treachery, no doubt ?"

" Worse still — apostacy."

"And you refused ?"

" I put my cause in the hands of God ! '*

" You have done nobly," said Margaret, ** and our
Lord cannot fail to bless you. He has afflicted you
sorely, but believe me He will restore your daughter to
you."

" If you knew how carefully I have watched over
her ! Lucy was a pure bright flower — these wretches have
shut her up with the very dregs of society, with women
who are a disgrace to our sex, with thieves ."

" Good God ! how dreadful ! " exclaimed Margaret ;
" and your petition has been everywhere rejected ? "

i f

John Canada,

One man only has promised me his protection : be
who is the support, of all sufiFerers.'*

"John Canada?" asked Margaret, quickly.

" Yes, but John Canada bid me wait. And how can
I wait when Lucy is su£Pering and is calling me, and I
am afraid of being overwhelmed by despair before I
can save her ? "

" Have you tried to visit her in prison ? "

" That consolation has been denied me."

" You gave your name, no doubt ? "

" I had to give it. I was asked — they hope to conquer
me by making me endure the extremity of miBery."
Do you think you can trust me ? " asked Margaret.
Yes ! yes ! " replied the unhappy mother.

** Will you let me go and see your daughter ? '*

" Go ! I beg you to go ! how I shall bless you ! "

" I will at least make the effort, what I should be
afraid to do for myself I will venture for you. Your
daughter's name ? "

" Lucy David."

" I will remember it, and your own ? **

" I am Amy."

" Listen," said Margaret in a tone of deep feeling^
" God does nothing in vain ; He has brought me across
your path that I may be of use to you. Anything I
can, I will do ; even if I have no news to give you but
only a hope, I will come and tell you. It is growing
late, my father will be coming home, and he might be
displeased or uneasy at my being out so late. Kiss me !
I will bear your kiss to your daughter."

Margaret Jefferson.

Amy David clasped Margaret in her arms.

" God has sent me an angel I " she said.

The young girl left the widow's lodging and hastened
on towards her home. Most of the streets were per-
fectly dark and she lost her way more than once ; the
lateness of the hour and the apprehension of incurring
a serious reproof if her father were at home before her
filled her with fear.

As she drew near to a dark by-street, she heard the
sound of song and rude laughter proceeding from a
neighbouring tavern ; she hurried her steps hoping to
pass it, but three drunken men barred her way. With
a cry of alarm she drew back into the shadow of the
opposite wall, but her terror only amused and encouraged
the men, who began to jest at her fears.

Margaret's cry had, however, reached the ear of a man
who was passing through the adjoining street. He felt
that assistance was needed, came straight to Margaret,
pushed the drunkards away, and exclaimed in a voice of
thunder, " Who dares to annoy my sister P **

The young man's attitude and tone commanded
respect, the three companions turned away with in-
distinct excuses and Margaret's defender, taking her
arm within his, rapidly walked on.

" Where do you live P " he asked. Margaret told
him, and, as she walked on at his side, said with a falter-
ing voice, " I do not know what would have become
of me without you, sir ; ray father will be so glad to
thank you — if he has already reached home he must
be very uneasy about me — I went out to go to church.

John Canada.

and found a person in great trouble, and so was delayed
too late."

There was something in Margaret's countenance
and voice which made the young man think that grati-
tude from her v/ould be very sweet.

They walked on in silence, he felt her hand still
tremble as it rested on his arm, he was much touched
by her alarm though he could not account for the
sudden sympathy she had awakened in his heart.

** You are French ? *' he said.

" My mother was an Acadian, sir."

** A Frenahwoman, then, and a martyr."

" Yes," replied Margaret in a tone of iringled sorrow
and wonder.

" And your father P "

" I pray for him," said Margaret.

The young man understood her delicate reserve and
at the same time guessed her secret sorrow.

The little house in the alley was still in darkness ;
Jeffei'son had not returned. The young girl slowly
took her hand from her protector's arm, and pointing to
her humble abode said, " I thank you sir, may God give
your mother every blessing ! "

" I am alone in the world, quite alone," he replied,
" and I should find life very sad were it not that I am
struggling for a great cause."

" You too I you are hoping for better days ? "

"My name is George Malo !" said the young man,
with a kind of pride.

" Blessings on you, then ! Although my father still

Margaret Jefferson.

looks on me as but a child, I know that some French-
men are hoping to free our country from her invaders
and to disinter the sword of Montcalm ; 1 also know
that you are John Canada's friend. In future, when I
pray for my country I shall not forget your name."

Margaret bowed a farewell to George Malo and
opened the door of her house. When he saw the young
girl in safety, he slowly went away, but not before he
had engraved in his memory the name and situation
of this remote part of the town.

Margaret took up her work again, but it often fell
from her hands. Never in the course of her young
life had so many events been crowded into one hour.
She thought of Amy David weeping at the foot of the
Cross, of her own terror when the tipsy men from the
tavern stopped her way, and then of George Malo,
whose name was often mentioned by young Canadians
in accents of hope, and was associated with that of
John Canada.

After Margaret had been about an hour at home
Jefferson returned. He seemed full of spirits and
energy, and embraced his daughter with a tenderness
which touched her all the more because her soul was
already under the influence of deep emotion, and she
was intending to beg her father to enable her to
sec Lucy David.

" You are tired with waiting for me," said Jefferson,
" go and rest yourself, Margaret ; the sun will rise
again to-morrow and there will be time enough to
thread your needle. God grant I may become rich,
very rich, to save you from putting out your eyes!"

John Canada.

*' When you are rich, father, I will work as much
as I do now, but I will give more away."

She saw him smile and then continued, " Do you
know, there is one class of sufferers who interest me
more than all others. Misery out of doors under the
blue sky is but half misery. Besides, however badly
off poor people may be, they still have some friends at
whose fireside they can sit down, they can look for
work and ask alms ; but there are unfortunate creatures
who suffer and groan without any consolation, and I pity
them above all."

" You mean prisoners, Margaret ? '*

" Yes, father."

" Prisoners are criminals ; fchey have no right to expect
anything but puni? bment. *'

" T^Iost of their are criminals, no doubt — but however
bad they may be they have a right to pity, and they
need to be urged to repent. Their heart rebels and they
curse God and man. I would fain speak to them of re-
signation — and after all, among captives some innocent
persons arc to be found, victims of odious calumny ; they
beg that their case may be brought to light, they ask for
justice and justice is not done them. Father I those are
the poor I should wis^ to help if ever you grow rich."

•' Very well ! very well ! Margaret ! I know you are a
good girl. "

"Is it very difficult to obtain admission to the
prisons?"

" Yes, very difficult. "

** To whom must one apply for a permission to visit
a prisoner ? "

Margaret Jefferson,

** The Police authorities only can grant it. Good
night, Margaret ; it muy be very yrood to be charitable,
but one must not expend one's pity or one's alms on
the unworthy. But we will speak of all these things
another time when I am rich, very rich."

Jefferson kissed his daughter again, and Margaret
took a candle and went up to her little room.

It was peaceful, like a little sanctuary, adorned with
white hangings and protected by a crucifix; the only
work jt art it contained was an engraving of no great
merit, representing the departure of the Acadians, who
were taken by force from their country to a foreign land
to die there, caning with despairing voices on the fathers,
mothers, and children sent by a cruel power into banish-
ment elsewhere, so that loving hearts had the anguish
of sepiua*'*' u added to the sadness of exile.

Margaret remembered having heard that her mother,
an Acadian, had been carried away on board one of the
English vessels and had returned to Canada at the risk of
worse than banishment. Jefferson had married her,
and thus the young woman had been enabled to live
nearer her own country and in the midst of a Catholic
population. When difiiculties beset Margaret's path,
when her task seemed heavy and she felt inclined to
despair of bringing her father to share her faith, she
looked at the engraving which represented this heart-
breukiug scene and hoped for the help she needed
from heaven.

*• My father will not assist me,'* said Margaret to
herself ; " I quite understand it ; he either will not or

wmmmmm

John Canada.

cannot— I will try myself to obtain what I wish for.
The police officials havo wives and sisters of their own,
they will understand that a young girl wishes to com-
fort one of her own age. I love Lucy David already ;
poor creature, she is suffering for her faith, and her
mother, with the courage of the ancient martyrs, urges
her to be constant and endure '*

Margaret went to bed and fell asleep. The next
morning her father, according to his habit, left her
early ; he was not to return until dinner time ; Margaret
was free for the day. She put on a simple dress and
went to the office where her father had told her that
permission to visit the prisoners might be obtained.

She was trembling, for she was excessively timid and
reserved. Her walk on the previous night and the
step she was now about to take appeared to her deeds
of extreme daring. She was soon in front of an enor-
mous building of gloomy aspect ; a shudder passed
through her frame as she crossed its threshold. The
men who were moving about the corridors were pale,
and the expression of their countenances was dull and
sinister. Their very gait betrayed fear ; they glided
along close to the wall, frequently turning their heads
to look back, a habit no doubt contracted by the con-
tinual watchfulness over the prisoners which it was
their duty to exercise. Margaret was sent from one
department to another ; she observed that curious
glances were directed to her and were followed by evil
smiles ; the suavity of manner of the more polite among
the officials annovod her. At last she found herself in

Margaret Jefferson,

a passage, at the end of which, behind a kind of grating
t n old man was writing at a desk.

" Pray, sir, would you give me permission to visit
a nrisoner ? '*

" What is the prisoner's name ? "

" Lucy David."

The old clerk opened a register, looked for the name
and found it, then having read a note in the margin of
the book, added, " there is a bad mark against her for
insubordination."

" ! sir," said Margaret, whose eyes were now full
of tears, " perhaps she will become more tractable if
she is allowed some consolation in her trouble. I beg
you will not refuse to grant my request."

" Is Lucy David a relation ot yours ? "

" No, sir."

" What is your reason for wishing to visit
her ? "

" Charity," answered Margaret, raising her great
blue eyes to the clerk's face.

" What is your own name P '*

*' Margaret Jefferson."

The old man looked at her, smiled kindly, and an-
swered, ** You ought to have begun by saying, ' I am
James Jefferson's daughter ; ' that would have been
enough. Jones ! a card for this pretty girl. No doubt
you would like to visit Lucy David more than once ?
Yes, I see it in your face ! well, here is a permanent
permission which holds good till it is withdrawn. Go,
my child."

w^^m

John Canada.

Margaret thanked the old man cordially, and passed
through the office so quickly that she did not hear him
say to his colleague, " To think of that wretched Jef-
ferson having a daughter, the very sight of whom would
be enough to convert a sinner!"

Margaret pressed the ticket of admission in one of her
little hands ; she was full of joy ; God was helping her;
she had at once succeeded in an undertaking so difficult,
that her father had begun by giving her to understand
that it was almost impossible.

The first feeling of satisfaction was, however, soon
mingled with some anxiety. Certain things seemed to
her inexplicable. Did James JefEerson, the timid,
shrinking poor man, whose ambition had often made
her smile sadly, and who was, at this very time, gaining
but a modest livelihood, really occupy a more important
position than Margaret had supposed ? If any one had
told her the day before that the name of Jefferson
would have been a talisman able to open the heavy
doors of a prison, she would have been greatly surprised.
But Jefferson himself could not be in ignorance of the
power of his name, and if he really knew it why had he
at once discouraged Margaret when she had wished to
ask his help ?

" Lucy David is a Catholic," thought Margaret to
herself, " and my father hates Catholics. Nothing but
his extreme love for my mother, and the solemn pro-
mise which he made to her when she lay on her death-
bed, could have induced him to leave me free to worship
aa she worshipped."

Margaret Jefferson,

As often as Margaret showed the ticket which had
been given to her, to any one of the officials of whom
she had to ask her way, she met with the most polite
attention ; hy-and-by she found herself again in the
open air, in the street, and hastened her steps that she
might the sooner reach the prison.

It was a mournful-looking pile, with immense walls,
and small barred windows admitting little light or air.
All the doors had great iron bolts, and the principal one
was doubly fortified ; sentinels kept guard around the
place, lest any one should seek to escape.

When Margaret had entered the prison court, she
stood and looked leisurely at the walls and the iron
gratings, and her heart grew heavy as she thought that
a young girl of her own age was suffering and weeping
in the terrible place. Tremblingly she presented her
permission to a tall, masculine-looking woman, with a
florid complexion, heavy red hands, and a countenance
expressive of savage ferocity. Mrs. Jones seemed to
measure the trembling Margaret with a glance, and
then roughly asked her, " Do you want to see her in the
parlour, or had you rather go into the yard ? "

Margaret was anxious to kjiow as much as possible of
Lucy David's daily life, in order that she might be able
to give an account of it to her mother, therefore she
chose to go and see the poor girl in the place where most
of her time was spent, and said to the gaoleress,
*•■ Pray, take me to the yard."

" I hope," added the virago, " that you are going to
advise the wretched girl to be obedient. Since she has

John Canada.

been here we have been able to do nothing with her
She pretends to be a most devoted Papist, but the rea-
son for which she has been sent here does not agree with
her appearance of virtue. The other girls under my care
are much more tractable."

Mrs. Jones opened a massive door, and, holding it in
one hand, said to Margaret, " I will come back for you
in two hours."

The yard was long and narrow, and within it stood a
few half-dead trees. Seats were placed here and there
along the giant wall, and on them were some women
working with their needles.

At the extreme end several were collected together
and were speaking in loud voices, shouting and gesti-
culating. Margaret thought that, between their songs
and shouts, she heard a sob. She hurried forward,
anxiously thinking that the unhappy girl she had come
to see might even now be at the mercy of these outcasts
of society.

For more than an hour a terrible scene had been going
on in the prison yard.

If y

CHAPTER VII.

AN ANGEL AMONG THE LOST.

The prison to which Lucy had been conducted was full
of the lowest women. The advent of this young creature
iwrith her sweet pure face excited among them a kind of
astonishment mingled with pity. Soon the prisoners

An Angel among the Lost

were divided into two camps, one of which affirmed the
innocence of the new-comer, convinced by the mere sight
of her modest bearing and her clear child-like gaze ;
while the other considered her as their fellow. The
younger ones felt a sort of pity, and approached Lucy
with kindliaess which brought tears to her eyes. The
poor child who had been arrested the day before and cast
intx) a dungeon with otraw for her bed, had come from
the darkness of the prison into the harsh light of the
yard. Her eyes were red with weeping, and she only
dimly saw through her tears those who were now to be
her companions. She looked around her as if scared ;
then drew back towards the wall, and, joining her hands
on her breast, fixed her imploring eyes on those who
were so curiously scrutinizing her.

For some minutes the prisoners contented themselves
with examining the new-comer ; but a bold-faced girl,
of about five-and-twenty, with long, black hair, burst
into a loud laugh, and turning to her companions said,
" "What crime can this pretty dear have committed ? "

" Yes, what can she have done ? *'

*' I will ask her," said the great dark girl, who, by
reason of her complexion, had been named by her com-
panions the Black Pearl.

" No," said a woman, who was accused of theft, "lot
the child alone, she is unhappy ; she can hardly keep
from weeping ; perhaps she is innocent ! "

" Innocent ! " exclaimed the Black Pearl. " It is all
very well to say that when we are on our trial. We all
plead *not guilty; ' it is an understood thing, and it may

John Canada.

answer, but, betv/eeu ourselves, the pretence is of no use;
you, who seem to pity her, are yourself charged with
theft and concealment of stolen goods."

" What next ? " asked the woman. " Yes, I have
stolen ; my daughter was ill, I had no money, and I
lost my head ; who among you dares to blame me for
having stolen for my daughter ? As to my trial ! I
will tell the truth ; it will be the best plan. Maud has
died since I have been in prison ; I do not want to live
any longer."

" And it is in remembrance of your daughter that you
wish to befriend our new companion ? "

" Yes," she replied.

** Your pity will not overcome our curiosity."

" Yes, yes," cried twenty voices at once, " let her tell
us her story."

The Black Pearl, accompanied by a band of women,
soon surrounded Lucy, and she, as spokeswoman, asked
*' What is your name ? "

" What matters my name to you?" said Lucy, with a
sigh ; " you are not the judges ; why should I give up
the name my father bore to ridicule ? "

Lucy David's reply was received with loud laughter.

'* At least," resumed the Black Pearl, " you might
confess to us the reason which has brought you here."

" I don't know," said Lucy, in a faltering voice.

** She doesn't know ! She was gathered like a spotless
lily and brought into the gaol — a flower on a dunghill !
What were you doing when you were arrested ? '*

Lucy kept silence for a moment ; she was afraid to

An Angel among the Lost.

answer, and was but too well aAvaie that no one would
believe her simple and tragical story. But when she
again raised her eyes she saw that the circle of curious
observers had drawn closer and closer to her. The
women turned their shameless faces towards her, curi-
osity seemed about to give place to menace. Lucy was
alarmed. "What danger was to be feared from telling
the truth ? God, who sees into the depths of the soul,
knew that she would not lie. Summoning up all her
courage, she said, in a voice half-smothered with sobs,
" I was trying to get work ; my mother and I are poor,
very poor ; work is scarce, and for two days we had had
no bread in the house. My mother and I still trusted in
God's mercy, and when a letter came, telling me I could
have some shirts to make, I thought we should be pro-
vided for for some days. My mother was absent, so I
went alone. When I reached the place mentioned, I
found no one there ; some one had made a mockery of
our poverty and our tears. I was returning home quick-
ly, and, as I passed before an open shop front, a heavy
hand was laid on my shoulder, a word of reproach was
addressed to me, and, in spite of my supplications and
denials, I was arrested."

"And is that all?" asked the Black Pearl, with a
loud laugh.

" That is all ! "

" And why should it not be all ?" rejoined the woman
who had stolen ; " terrible things are done now-a-days ;
what is your religion, young girl ? "

" I am a Catholic," replied Lucy.

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John Canada,

I IM

iii

The words raised a dreadful storm. Tho miserable
women who, for the most part, did not believe in a God,
looked on it as a crime in Lucy to confess her mother's
faith. For a moment the most offensive epithets were
heaped upon poor Lucy, who, quite unable to support
herself, sank upon her knees, and with joined hands and
bowed forehead wept hot tears which rolled down her
pallid cheeks like a heavy summer shower. She seemed
to herself as one in a fearful dream. Each opprobrious
term was like the blow of a hammer upon her head
and inflicted a separate wound on her heart. She asked
herself what she could have done to provoke the animo-
sity of thi.se women. She implored their compassion
by her tears, her humble attitude, and the beseeching
words which iroke from her lips among her sobs. But
the furies continued their odious cruelty, and until Mrs.
Jones summoned them to return to their dungeoti, Lucy
was their butt and victim.

During the previous night she had no doubt thought
her cell very gloomy and her solitude most desolate, but
now when she was left alone without anyone to mock
at her tears or to scoff at her sorrow, she deemed herself
almost happy.

*• My cross is heavy, Lord," she said, ** I am falling
beneath the burden ; but Thou wilt raise me up. The
martyrs Thou hast chosen may fall beneath the axe of
the executioner or faint upon their painful way, but
what matters it, O Lord ? Thou art the Sovereign
Master, the Lamb whose Blood was shed for the salva-
tion of the world, the Dispenser of all graces."

An Angel among the Lost.

Long did Lucy weep and pray, and tht angels who
are always the companions of the sufEering, gathered up
her words and soothed her to sleep in her prison.

The next day, as soon as Lucy appeared in the prison-
yard, her tormentors assailed her with redoubled cruelty.
It seemed as if they had been permitted to afflict her
as the evil one was to afflict Job. When Lucy found
that every word she spoke was cumed into derision, she
resolved to preserve an absolute silence. But the per-
secution only assumed another form ; seeing that all their
efforts to draw from her a complaint or even a word,
were useless, the prisoners in their perversity found
another way of inflicting suffering on the poor girl.

They did not allow her to isolate herself. If she
went away from them they pursued her, and as silence
was a kind of consolation to her wounded spirit, they
did not permit her to enjoy it. Crouched down in a
corner, Lucy would try to fix her thoughts upon God
and upon her mother, and then these depraved women
began to relate their crimes and iniquities in a loud
voice. They sought to tarnish the mind of this chaste
and beautiful being, as some unclean creature tarnishes
the rose-leaf by its slimy track. Lucy asked for mercy,
she fled from one end of the yard to the other, she
stopped her ears and endeavoured to avoid hearing the
foul language, but gestures succeeded words, and while
thieves forcibly held Lucy's hands their companions
repeated their hateful songs.

The same thing went on day after day ; Lucy vainly
begged to be left in her dungeon. She was fearful, not

1 1 ■

i ]

John Canada,

of being peryerted, but of going mad. She offered to
work twenty hours a day and to eat the hardest and
blackest bread, but all was in vain ; at the appointed
hour the female gaoler, Mrs. Jones, dragged her irxto
the yard as young martyrs of old were dragged into the
amphitheatre.

One evening however, after the other prisonershad been
more cruel than ever, the gaoleress went into Lucy's cell.
She found her lying unconscious on the heap of straw
which served her as a bed, she had no strength to
undergo fresh torments. The care of a doctor in time
aroused her from her fainting-fit ; she seemed like one
waking from a long sleep, and was even able to smile
when she saw at her side the doctor and another man
with a calm expression of countenance.

" Oh I save me, gentlemen ! " she said ; ** save me,
for the love of God I Do not let me be sent back to
that dreadful place. It would kill me. You see it
would kill me. I am burning with fever. Every song
of these women seems to split my head, and is like a
red-hot iron piercing into my brain. What have I
done that I should be shut up here P I swear to you
that if they accuse me of theft or any other crime it is
a calumny, I do not remember having offended God
or man. Only think, sir, how my mother must be
weeping for me I I am sure she must come every day
to the prison-gate to see if I am not to be let out. Look
at me, sir, you see I have not done any harm ! "

The doctor shook his head, feeling began to over-
power him.

An Angel among the Lout.

The man who had accompanied him looked long and
earnestly on the young sufferer, then said, ** We will
see, we will see what can be done for you."

" In the first place, let me be separated from the
women who have been torturing me.'*

" Certainly, as long as you are ill," replied the doctor.

" Oh ! if it might please God to call me to Himself !'*
murmured Lucy.

The doctor and his companion went away. The
former was named Jacob Perkins, and the latter was
the Rev. Mr. Laird, a minister of the Reformed Com-
munion.

For the next week, in compliance with the doctor's
orders, the greatest care was taken of Lucy. Books
were lent her, a bed was arranged, and a sufficient
amount of good and tempting nourishmert took the
place of the coarse and ill-prepared food which had been
her portion ; she had work to do, and the hope of re-
lease enabled her to bear her trial with the greater
patience.

One morning, on awakening, she saw that the books
lent .0 her had been changed. The titles of the new
volumes gave her to understand that they were on reli-
gious subjects. She rejoiced in the hope of finding en-
couragement and consolation in their perusal, and at
once read some pages with the avidity of a thirsty soul.

She, by-and-by, came to a passage which presented
difficulties to her comprehension, and accordingly inter-
rupted her reading to endeavour by reflection to discover
its meaning, and failing to do this, ultimately turned

i \

John Canada.

1 :
t

over tlie page in hopes of finding a solution of her per-
plexities

After proceeding a few lines further, Lucy again
stopped: "No," said she to herself, "although this
book speaks of the Saviour, the ideas are not quite like
the teaching of the Gospel ; the author misrepresents
the meaning of the Apostles. While professing to
teach, he is really misleading his readers. Here is a
wolf in sheep's clothing. This must be the writing of
a Protestant ! They are hoping by degrees to beguile
my wearied soul. They deem it easy to deal with a
poor young girl who has been alternately tried by lone-
liness and by the presence of the wretched beings
amongst whom she has been cast. Persecution has taken
another form, that is all/*

Lucy pushed away the books, and with clasped hands
and tearful eye, she said, " My God, Thou wilt be my
Defender ! I am weak, and to all appearance forsaken
by all, but Thou dost watch over me, and as Thou didst
deign to send an angel into the Apostle's prison, Thou
wilt send one to me.''

In the evening the Rev. Mr. Laird obtained admis-
sion to the prisoner's cell. He glided slowly and
stealthily in and looked at the captive with an air of
kindly interest.

" I hope," he said, *' that your time is passing less
tediously and wearily. I would willingly make your
position more endurable ; you may depend on my kindly
sonsideration and indulgence.

" I need mercy from God," replied Lucy, '* for we

An Angel among the Lost

are all sinners in Uis sight, but as 1 have never com-
mitted any voluntary fault, I seek no pardon from men.
The authorities have been mistaken in casting me into
prison, or else an infamous deed "

" I am willing to believe it, you seem to be a modestly
brought-up girl. I will ask that your mother may be
allowed to come and see you."

" You will do that, sir P you really will P" asked
Lucy, taking Mr. Laird's hand in her own.

" Certainly and most willingly ; if any mistake has
been made you will not long remain here."

" How good you are ! '* said Lucy, " how very good !**

'* I am fulfilling my duty as a Christian minister ;
your case interests me ; you seem like a white lamb in
the midst of angry wolves. But God, Who protected the
children in the furrace, can keep you from all harm.*'

" He is my only refuge," replied Lucy.

" No doubt you think you pray to Him as He would
have you do, and yet you may be in dangerous error.
It is not your fault, my child. You follow the religion
in which you have been brought up ; but if it were per-
mitted me to show you your mistake, to take away the
veil that covers your eyes and to bring you to a know-
ledge of the truth, I should look on it as a happiness and
a privilege. The Papists have perverted your reason
and darkened your mind."

" Not a word more, sir!" said Lucy, "I am and I will
ever be a Catholic ! I wished to give you credit for good
intentions, and I fancied that these books had, perhaps,
been sent here by some mistake. I am now convinced of

■

John Canada.

I M

'M'

I :'

your real meaning. You hope to procure for me, at
the price of my apostasy, some alleviation to my suffer-
ings. Do not offer me such favours ; I will never buy
them by cowardly denial of my faith. My mother may
have to mourn for me, but I will never give her cause
to disown me."

Mr. Laird tried all the power of his smooth eloquence,
and, in a long discourse, in which he explained after
his own fashion many of the prophecies contained in
Holy Writ, he endeavoured, first to persuade and then
to alarm Lucy. Weak and dejected as the young girl
had been but an hour before, she found strength and
energy to reply to the minister's arguments, and evinced
a firmness and presence of mind which left him little
room to hope for success in his proselytizing efforts.

He withdrew, however, without any appearance of
irritation, thinking it possible that time might subdue
her moral energy, as it had been expected to wear out
her physical strength.

Notwithstanding her request that they might be
taken away, he left the books on the table.

Was it not possible that, in sheer weariness, she might
be led to read them, and, if once she did this, was not her
faith in the Catholic religion certain to be shaken ?

But the Rev. Mr. Laird was greatly mistaken.
Lucy tore up the books, and the floor of her cell was
strewn with the fragments of their pages.

From this time forth the nature of Lucy's sufferings
was changed.

Instead of spending two hours among the wretched

■Pf^

An Angel among the Lost.

women in the yard, whose language had seemed to
wound and scoroh her very soul, she was now sub-
jected to discourses, controversial arguments, and ex-
hortations from Mr. Laird. Sometimes he came with
an air of gentle kindness, and his words were sweet and
insinuating ; and, on other occasions, he would endea-
vour to make it plain to her that she was standing on the
very brink of an abyss where devouring flames were
ready to consume her. He would speak of Gehenna,
and apply to her all the most alarming passages of the
Bible, working himself up into a state of angry excite-
ment, and, at last, worn out by his own eloquence, and
amazed by the force of his arguments, would depart from
the cell, treating Lucy as a child of perdition.

During these interviews, Lucy used to sit silent and
melancholy in the corner of her cell, letting Mr. Laird's
words pass by her as if they were but the sound of the
wind. She knew that nothing would be gained by
attempting to answer ; she endured them as she had
endured the insults of the thieves and depraved womer.
She tried to avoid hearing what he said, but words would
sometimes reach her, and, although they did not actu-
ally destroy her quiet of mind, they used to cause a
strange feeling of distress which she could hardly have
explained. Sometimes she felt as if this man was taking
possession of her very soul and dragging it from her,
A kind of giddiness would come over her ; her head
become weak and confused ; ideas chased one anoth( r
through her brain. The visits of Mr. Laird were
dreaded as torture would have been. Physical suffer-

John Canada.

.i^i

iog would have been easier to bear th.%n this moral dis-
tress and weariness. The unhappy girl, at last, came to
regret the prison-yard.

One day when she stood upright and undaunted be-
fore Mr. Laird, and informed him that his company
was even more irksome to her than that of her fellow-
prisoners, his look of hatred made it plain to her that
there was no more hope for her.

Alas ! the poor girl had no hope except to die.

" Daughter of perdition ! " said Mr. Laird, in a voice
of mockery, " you have refused the light ; you are de-
termined to persevere in the ways of sin. Return to
your fitting companions ! "

" God grant me a place amidst the virgin martyrs ! "

She returned to her place in the comer of the cell,
an«l, worn out with her sorrows, began to sob. Sweet
child ! how sad to be taken from her mother's house
and cast into such a den of wickedness I She wept and
wrung her hands ; the terrors of death came upon her ;
then she called up her happy memories of the past
when her father still lived and her mother could smile.
How far away it all seemed ! and those blessed days
would never return! but, what is earthly bliss after
all P Lucy must now give it up and only fix the gaze
of her soul on the opened heavens, whence angels
were looking and holding out to her the palm of
victory.

Prayer and visions of heaven comforted her. Next
morning Mrs. Jones roughly drew back the bolts of her
cell, and, with a hyena laugh, said to her, *' Come, my

An A ngel among the Lost.

pretty Papist, you have been shut up long enough, here
is a fi:ie day to take the air I **

Lucy rose without making any reply ; she knew that
she must go back to the yard. As she approached it
a cold sweat broke out upon her temples, her heart
throbbed violently ; her powerless feet dragged along
the pavement, till the gaoleress roughly seized her by
the wrist ant', drew her on.

A gust of fresh air blew in Lucy's face as Mrs. Jones
unfastened the door. Lucy opened her eyes, which she
had instinctively closed in order to avoid the sights that
would meet her in the yard. She freed her wrist from
Mrs. Jones* grasp and sat down, supporting herself
against the wall. She had a faint hope that she might
not be recognized by her persecutors ; it was possible
that, since her departure, they might have chosen an-
other victim. And, indeed, more than one new-comer
had borne the brunt of their cruel mockery, still nothing
had made them forget Lucy David.

The Black Pearl was the first to recognise her on
her return ; she called her companions together and all
rushed to Lucy.

Questions and insulting words were rapidly spoken.
Some asked if she had established her innocence. Others
wanted to know when her trial would take place. She
made no reply. From words, the women proceeded to
deeds. The kerchief was snatched from her head, and
her beautiful fair hair foil in masses down her back. A
fresh idea of malice passed through the miud of the cap-
tives. Black Pearl seized one of Lucy's hands, while

;'i '

Jo/ni Canada,

Louisa took hold of the other. A living chain waw
formed ; all began to sing a rude song, dragging Lucy
round with them in their mad dance. She tried to re-
sist, but she had not strength to stand against their
brutal force. She called for help ; but her complaints
and cries were drowned by louder shouts. At last,
she gave herself up like a dead thing, and was pushed
and dragged here and there by her tormentors. Her
head fell back, and the long hair came like a veil
down to her knees ; the shadow of death seemed
to come over her pale face. Still the wild, savage
dance went on. Hatred and despair suggested fresh
couplets full of horror and malice, and, as the women
danced on, their songs were changed into howls and
discordant shouts.

While this fearful scene was going on, Mrs. Jones
opened the door of the yard and admitted Margaret
Jefferson.

The gaoleress did not at once go away ; she had be-
gun by enjoying the barbarous mirth of the prisoners,
bat after all, she felt that they might, perhaps, have
gone too far. Mrs. Jones was in a position of respon-
sibility, and, though the persecution of a Papist might
be looked upon with indulgence, it was possible that
she might suddenly be called to account for what was
going on in the prison.

Black Pearl broke off from the dancing circle when
she became aware of the gaoleress* presence. She let
go the hand of Lucy, who would inevitably have fallen
flat on the ground, but that Margaret's kindly instinct

An Angel ammg the Lost,

urged her at once to her side. She supported Lucy in
her caressing arms, led her to a quiet seat, and said, in
a trembling and sorrowful tone, '*Do not be afraid,
Lucy, I have come from your mother."

These words revived the poor girl. She looked at
the stranger, and, reading a calm compassion in her
eyes, she remembered that she had prayed God to send
an angel to help her, and gave thanks that her prayer
was answered.

Margaret helped Lucy to put up her long and dishev-
elled hair, arranged her torn garments Wi!l\ sisterly
care, and, when she had, in some degree, recovered
from her alarm, and was able to listen said again,
" Yes, Lucy, I have come from Mrs. Pavid."

" You !r7iow her ? — it must be very lately you have
become acquainted with her, for I have never seen you."

*' We met where those who suffer often meet. She
was weeping and I was praying at her side."

" Poor, poor mother ! "

" She is suffering cruelly from being separated from
you."

" Oh ! if she knew — if she only knew the truth —you
will not tell her all you have seen here ? ''

" I will only tell her what you wish.'*

" At last some one has taken pity on me. If you
knew. My life is a torture, first for the body and then
for the soul, and then the physical suffering begins
again. But I hope I shall soon die ! my mother will
never see me more in this world, if I am left two
months here."

John Canada.

" You shall not stay, Lucy ; I am but a poor girl,
but I have leemed this morning that my father has
more influence than I had thought : his name was
enough to open the prison doors for me. You may
guess how poor Margaret Jefferson will do her best
to enable you to get out of this purgatory. "We are
about the same age ; you have no father and my
mother is dead ; we are both Catholics ; how many
reasons we have for loving one another ! "

" Dear, dear Margaret ! "

" Oh! I won't content myself with asking to see you;
I will bring your mother, whatever efforts it may cost
me. "What is the first thing you desire ? "

" To be alone ! quite alone, not to see Mr. Laird, the
minister who is trying to make me become a Protestant,
or these dreadful women who will be the death of me —
a dungeon, if they would keep me always in a dungeon."

" Would you like some books ? "

" They will only let me have Protestant books."

" Would it be a comfort to you to have some work ? '*

" Yes, Margaret, and besides mother is so poor."

" Very well, I will see if I cannot get leave for you
fo work."

" And you will come back ? "

" Twice a week."

" When shall you see my mother ? "

" When I leave you."

'* Tell her that I am brave and that nothing can
shake my constancy. Beg her to take courage, that
I may bo able to stand firm. You see we must believe

An Angel among the Lost

in miracles since you are here, helping me like a good
Samaritan. I have prayed so much our Lord has heard
me. Lot me look at you well, Margaret, so as to re-
member your dear face when you are absent. If you
cannot come back your features will ever be engraved
on my memory. How your father must love you !
Margaret, you will be a second daughter to my mother."

" And then I shall be your sister, dear suffering
friend!"

" And she will not be left childless ! "

" Hush ! hush ! " cried Margaret, in a trembling
voice ; " I have said, I would save you. Kow is it to be
done I know not ; I am but a poor girl and very
timid ! A look troubles me, ard a word is enough to
upset me ; by-the-by, the very evening I went home
with your mother I had the greatest fright I ever had in
ray life : some drunken sailors stopped my way. I
knew not what to do when a deliverer was sent to me —
George Malo, you know his name, perhaps ?"

" George Malo, the friend of John Canada, the de-
fender of the oppressed ; the Indian's friend ; one of
those whom God chooses as apostles or heroes !"

" I owe him my life, Lucy ; he told me his name,
that I might apply to him, if danger threatened me. I
shall never forget him ; he will be of use to you, you
may be assured."

" Perhaps," said Lucy ; " but, believe me, Margaret,
George Malo and John Canada are engaged in matters
of such great importance that the fate of a young girl
cannot much signify to them. Let us try to do some*

1 t;'

f! i:

k
i ^

ill

|. ..

i i

100

t/oAw Canada.

thing ourselves. You are powerful, Margaret, since
you enter the prison without opposition. Whatever
you can do for me will be well done. God has sent
you ; one raust welcome angels' visits."

The two young girls embraced each other and con-
tinued their conversation, which touched on many dif-
ferent subjects, and ^^as often interrupted by tears.

By-and-by the gaoleress returned and beckon <}d to
Margai -^t.

"Farewell, for a short time," she said to her new
friend, *' I shall see your mother before going home."

When Margaret was passing through the long pas-
sages with Mrs. Jones, she took a silver piece from her
pocket, and, putting it in the guardian's hand said,
" I shall often trouble you to let me in."

" It will always be a pleasure," answered Mrs. Jones,
holding the silver close.

"Make Lucy's position as easy as you can; don't
make her go out in the yard ; it will be the death of
her."

" As you express a wish, of course it will be attended
to ; you understand, great consideration is due to Mr.
Jefferson's daughter.'*

For a moment Margaret was tempted to ask for some
explanation of the influence exercised by her father,
whom she had always believed to be a poor, simple, and
timid man, devoured by secret ambition. A feeling,
which she could not have explained, kept back the
question which had almost risen to her lips. With a last
appealing look at Mrs. Jones, whom she had begged to

; fi^

Perplexities,

101

show kindness to Lucy, she left the prison ; and, when
the heavy gate had closed upon her, turned round to
look again on its high and gloomy walls, and then bent
her steps in the direction of the widow's house.

CHAPTER VIII.

PERPLEXITIES.

When Amy David had parted from Margaret, she had
felt consoled by the young girl's sympathy and kind-
ness, but she had not based on it any serious hope of
her daughter's rescue. She did not, for a moment, im-
agine it possible that a pale, delicate, timid young girl,
like Jefferson's daughter, could open the doors of Lucy's
prison. Amy was thankful to have met with one who
could weep with her. She appreciated Margaret's self-
devotion and good-will, but, when the mother — with
all her rights, her eloquence and her tears — had failed,
what could be done by the child whom she bad met by
chance in the church where she had gone in quest of
that silence which is the friend of great sorrows and the
repose of thoughtful souls P Amy felt certain of see-
ing Margaret again. In the widow's loneliness she
found comfort in knowing that a loving hand would
press hers, and that an afiec donate heart would receive
her confidences. She slept better that night, and,
rising at the dawn of day, arranged her little rooms
with special care, rubbed up the cold tiles, dusted the
furniture and opened the windows to let in a ray of

102

John Canada.

(Sunshine, soon to be followed by the sunshine of Mar-
garet's smile.

After eating a small piece of hard, black bread, the
widow took up her work and waited, sitting near the
casement so as to warm her limbs, which were shiver-
ing with fever.

About three o'clock a gentle knock was heard at her
door ; she got up, opened it with trembling hand, and
saw Margaret's bright face.

" I bring you a kiss from Lucy ! " said the fair
young girl, throwing her arms round the widow.

" From Lucy P You have seen her ? You have been
allowed?"

" I do not yet understand my boldness or my suc-
cess ; I have succeeded, that is the great point. If
I were to say that your child is not suffering, I should
speak untruly without convincing you. All that I can
say is, that she is patient under trial ; we love each
other already. I shall be able to see her twice a week.
When next I go to the prison I will bring her a letter
from you. When you write to each other you will feel
less separated. Here is some work ; I asked for it in
a shop in my own name, and I will undertake to bring
it back."

** You are my Providence I '* said the widow.

"01" answered Margaret, " it is sweet to love, and,
for my part, I owe you many thanks ; if you knew how
lonely I have brsen I My father is absent all the day ;
I used to read or work at my embroidery ; but I have
often found the hours very long."

I llliil:

ri-«iBr

^^fT^

Perplexities,

103

" Would you not have liked to have some young girl
of your own age for a friend ?''

" My father does not allow me to have any acquaint-
ance with the neighhours/*

" And what is your father P" asked the widow.

" He is a clerk."

** In some Government office ?**

" I believe he is at an armourer's," answered Mar-
garet.

" What ! you don't know the name of the office to
which your father goes daily P "

"No."

" That is odd ; but I beg your pardon for my curi-
osity, Margaret ; it proceeds from my interest in you."

" Your questions cannot hurt my feelings, Mrs.
David ; if I cannot answer you, it is because my father
never spoke of his business to my mother or me, and
on your account I have learnt more of his position than
I had done in fifteen years before."

"How is that?"

" By what I have been doing for Lucy. You may
imagine that yesterday I was very anxious to know
what steps I must take in order to see the dear pri-
soner. I was trembling like an aspen leaf ou my way
to the police office. Well ! a permission was, at once,
given to me, as soon as I had said that my name
was Margaret Jefferson. A common name, however !
In the prison, Mrs. Jones, the gaoleress, was almost
respectful to me. I conclude that my father is right
when he says to me, as he sometimes does when he bids

\\\

\ ¥

104

John Canada.

iK>

rae good-bye, * Little Margaret, you shall be ricb— very
rich — and ^ye shall be as good as the proudest people in
Montreal !'»'

Hours passed quickly to Amy David and Jefferson's
daughter. The widow gave the girl a letter for Lucy,
and when they parted, pressed her to her heart as if
she had known and loved her from her infancy.

Margaret's step was light, and her heart beat like
that of a young bird trying its wings for the first time,
as she went back to her gloomy home. She gathered a
branch of lilac and placed it near her by the window.
She craved for the fresh perfume and the sight of the
flowers ; her soul was opening into a new life. The events
which had happened during the last forty- eight hours
had changed the current of her existence, and f t the
first time, great interests had taken the place of tne dull
and melancholy aspect of her days. Her tender pity
for two suffering fellow- creatures, the efforts she was
making on their behalf, and her hope of being able to
do them good, filled her soul with a sense of something
new and unforeseen. And another cause tended to ex-
cite and agitate her ; she could not get rid of the desire
to know something more of her father's occupations. On
what grounds did his ambition refi^t ? What did he look
for P What did he hope for ? TJp to this time she had
believed him to be poor and lowly. When others had
thought his look cruel and mocking, she had considered
it gentle and tender. What to his superiors seemed
servility, was, in her eyes, but a modest opinion of his
own merits. But she now perceived that his complex

Perplexities.

105

nature presented some strange contradictions. There
was some mystery which Margaret could not fathom,
and she began anxiously to seek for its solu-
tion.

Moreover, she was troubled by a kind of remorse.
She felt conscious that her father would not approve of
what she had been doing. For a moment she asked
herself if she ought not to tell him everything, but the
apprehension that he might positively forbid her to have
anything more to do with the widow or her daughter,
made her see this course to be impossible. She ex-
amined her conscience carefully, but could not discover
anything wrong in her conduct.

Jefferson returned early ; he seemed very cheerful,
and, rubbing his horny hands together, said, "Have
you got a nice little dinner ready, Margaret, my dar-
ling ? we may begin to enjoy our future fortune. Is it
not time that my daughter should leave off wearing
such common dresses and cooking my dinner herself P
Your housekeeping is admirable, certainly, and you are
quite a pattern manager ; but I don't want to have
you leaning over the stove ; the heat is bad for you,
and I will not have you blacken your fingers with the
charcoal ; and how gloomy this house is ! "

" It is, certainly,** answered Margaret, " but it is full
of memories ; my mother died here, and I was born
here. Do you think this dream of fortune will soon be
realized, father P

** Soon — yes, certainly soon, my dear child."

" Your armourer is powerful and generous then P"

106

John Canada.

" How ? "What do you mean ? " asked JefEerson,
looking with a piercing eye at his daughter.

" But, father, it is all quite simple ; if your salary
is increased, it must be because you are of great
use."

" Yes," answered Jefferson, in a low voice, ** I am of
great use."

He went towards the window, inhaled the perfume
of the lilac, and heaved a deep sigh. He needed air ;
his daughter's simple remark had brought a deep colour
to his face, and his thin, sickly frame trembled. If
Margaret suspected anything ! But she suspected no-
thing. Her question was really a very natural one, and
the only thing that need have astonished Jefferson was
that it had not sooner been asked.

Fearing, however, that the conversation might again
turn on subjects which he wished to avoid, he asked his
daughter to read to him. While Margaret read the book
which hcT father had selected, Jefferson was occupied
with his own reflections, and gave no heed to the inter-
esting story with which Margaret's attention was soon
completely engrossed. About nine o'clock, Jefferson
rose from his seat ; Margaret closed the book, and he
said to her : " I am tired ; good-night, my little
girl!"

Margaret took a candle and went up to her room.
Instead of retiring to rest, however, Jefferson opened
his desk, took out paper, pens, and ink, and then taking
sundry memoranda from a greasy portfolio, began to
copy them with great speed. Fron^. time to time he

""■Ill i

Perplexities.

107

stopped, passed his hand over his forehead, then resumed
his work with intense earnestness.

Margaret had gone quietly up to her own room. She
was glad to be alone, not that she did not love her
father, but because she could now think oyer so many
things that she was not afraid of being weary.

She walked round the narrow room in which she was
accustomed to live. She looked at the picture repre-
senting the embarkation of the exiled Acadians, she
joined her hands before her mother's picture, and, fall-
ing on her knees, raised her soul to God.

When she rose up, she felt strong. She knew that,
by her means, comfort would be brought to two unhappy
creatures, and this hope made up to her for her life of
loneliness.

Generally Margaret — whose sleep was wont to be like
that of an infant — used to go to bed quickly, but this
evening the moonlight was so beautiful, and the air so
pure, that, instead of shutting her window, she sat down
on a seat beside it, and began to think of Amy David,
of Lucy, and then, for a moment, of that brave young
George Malo, who, with John Canada, aspired after the
deliverance of New France. All Margaret's sympathies
were for the " old country." Canada — the Catholic and
chivalrous — was the country of her soul. Her mother's
fervent heart was beating within her. Kind as her father
was to her, Margaret felt that there was an abyss be-
tween them. Where the sacred bond of religion does
not exist, afEection is not solid or durable. In order to
be lasting, it must have its source in God. Margaret

.1:

108

John Canada.

sat there dreamy and melanclioly, looking at tlio calm
heavens above her and giving full scope to the white
wings of her dreams.

Eleven o'clock sounded from the neighbouring steeple,
and, as the last note died away in the air, footsteps were
heard in the street. Two men came to the wooden gate
of Jefferson's house and carefully opened it, he at once
meeting them.

Is it you. Long ? " asked Margaret's father.
Yes, JefEerson, and I have brought the man I men-
tioned to you."

" I Was expecting you," replied the agent.

The door was shut, and Margaret heard no more ; but
her curiosity was deeply excited, and she could not
think of sleep until after the departure of the nocturnal
visitors.

" Another strange thing," said the young girl to her-
self, " is that my father should send me away on pre-
tence of going to rest, when he was really expecting two
visitors. Is this visit connected with his hopes of for-
tune ? He was almost angry with me for asking where
his place of business is, and the name of the armourer
who employs him. But it is natural, very natural.
These men are speaking very low — there is but a thin
ceiling between my room and the hall, yet I hear no-
thing — nothing at all. But, after all, why should I
wish to know their business. It is wrong of me to be
growing so curious. It would seem as if I was acting
the spy towards my father I No ! no ! that is not my
reason for regretting that I do not understand what is

Perplexities,

109

going on. If what is being said did not concern me in
some way, I should not feel so anxious **

Margaret remained in her place by the window ; rest
was further than ever horn, her thoughts.

A long hour passed. A sort of oppression and shiver-
ing came over the young girl. She thought that the
night air had chilled her ; still she determined that she
would not close her casement until the visitors were
gone.

Ali last, she heard the sound of ;;hair8 being moved
downstairs, and, standing up, she remained hidden in the
shadow of the window, but in a position from which she
could see everything.

The two visitors were now under the lilac trees.

The lane was completely deserted, and the three men
thought they could talk as securely there as in the house.
It had never even occurred to JefEerson that his daughter
might still be up.

" All is settled then, Dick/' he said, '* and you thor-
oughly understand all I have said ? "

"As well as if I had made the plan myself. My
friend and comrade, Tom Smith, the best of Canadian
runners, will go to Eagle-Plume's village and tell him
that the moment for action has come; or, to use the
language of those strange tribes, he will bid him * over-
turn the sacred caldron, dig up the buried war-axe and
take his scalping-knife.' "

" Very well," answered Jefferson ; " Tom Smith will
provide himself with everything that can excite the de-
sires of these childish and savage creatures. Above all,

110

John Canada,

Wr ■'11

ll^!

he will not spare fire-water, for that gWes the Indians
who serve us, without loving us, bound hand-and-foot
into our power. Let us pay them well, Tom Smith,
and not be taken in, in any way ; the savages all lean to
the side of the detestable French, and though some
tribes consent to aid us, they will never devote them-
selves to our cause from real affection."

" There will always be time to do away with the In-
dians," said Dick Long.

"I will undertake to bring fifty men," said Tom
Smith ; *' will they be enough for the expedition? "

** Half the number will do," said Jefferson ; " thedwell-
ing-house is carefully built, but there are not many
servants in it."

" You are sure that there will be no bargaining about
the reward ? '*

" Not if you succeed."

*' Good-bye, Jefferson ! *' said Dick Long, shaking
hands with him.

'* Good luck to you, Tom Smith ! *' rejoined Jeffer-
son.

The two men went away whistling a hunting tune.
Jefferson watched them depart, shrugged his shoulders,
and then shut and bolted the door.

Margaret noiselessly closed her window, and, kneel-
ing down beside her bed, hid her face in the coverings
She felt that she must pray ; must trust in God ; must
cast herself into his arms as a frightened child casts it-
self on its mother's bosom ; she needed to beg Him to
show mercy to the guilty and to grant his protection to

PerjptexUuB.

Ill

the weak. In her trouhle and aiixtety, and amid the
strange and new emotions which filled her soul, she felt
that her whole hope must he founded on Him who never
deceives is.

What had she heard that could overwhelm her with
such sudden anguish ? Margaret could not have given
a precise and definite answer to the question. Long and
Smith had heen speaking to her father about the Hu-
rons— a vacillating tribe of Indians who sold themselves
alternately to England and to France — but the gentle
maiden knew nothing of politics, and might easily have
misapprehended what they said. Her sleep was broken
and unrestf .:;id at dawn she rose and went down to
the hall, trembling at the thought of seeing her father
again, and yet urged towards him by a feeling of ex-
treme curiosity, which was not free from a mixture of
terror.

Jefferson's appearance might have dispelled her vague
fears. He was laughing and humming as he paced up
and down the room ; and, according to his custom when
pleased, was rubbing his hands together.

" Come and kiss me, Margaret ! " he said ; " you look
fresher than the flowers which are trying to come in at
our window. Have you slept well ? I never wakened
once, and I dreamt that I had bought a pretty house in
the outskirts of the town for you. I had given up my
office, and we were living happily in a green, shady
nook. It is pleasant to dream! And you? Why,
Margaret, you are pale and trembling ! Can you be
feverish, you naughty girl P Come, another kiss, to

til

112

John Canada.

prove to your father that you understand all his tender
love for you."

The young girl presented her forehead to her father,
but she did not that morning feel impelled to throw
herself into his arms and cover him with caresse.'i. His
persistent falsehood increased her sadness.

Little was said during breakfast. Jefferson was
absorbed in serious thought and took no heed of his
daughter's dejected attitude. By-and-by he went out,
promising to return early.

When she was left alone, Margaret at once thought
of fulfilling the promises she had made to Lucy and
Amy David. She had found some work for the latter,
but not enough ; more must be obtained elsewhere. Be-
sides, the shop which had furnished it was English, and
she preferred having dealings with French peoploc
She set out, consoled by the thought of doing a good
action, a\id went to a ladies' outfit' '.ji> shop to ask for
work.

Margaret's countenance was so open and pleasant,
that her request was received with smiles.

The specimen of embroidery which she brought with
her was much admired, and the mistress of the estab-
lishment gave directions that all work of the kind
which had not yet been promised to others should be
entrusted to Margaret. The parcel was tied up and
Margaret was about to take it away, when the head of
the shop opened an account book and said, "Kindly
give me your name that I may enter the number of
piecesyou are taking and the rate of payment to be made.''

Perplexities.

113

'* Margaret Jefferson," answered the girl.

"Your address?"

" Lilac- tree Lane.**

Madame Delphine stopped before entering the name
and addr-^3. " Margaret JefEerson!" she repeated ; are
you Jacob Jefferson's daughter ?"

" Yes, ma'am."

" I am very sorry. Miss Jefferson, very sorry indeed
for you; but it is impossible forme to give you this work."

" Bui} why ? " asked Margaret, with sorrowful
anxiety.

" I forgot that I had made previous arrangements."

At a sign from Madame Delphine one of the young
shop-girls undid the packet, and Margaret turned away
from the counter with tearful eyes.

As she was leaving the shop, Madame Delphine ob-
served, in a low voice, " Poor girl ! it is not her fault."

She was an object of pity, and why ? It seemed as if
she were suspected and accused of some fault which an-
other had committed. Who was this other ? People
had seemed kindly disposed towards her, but her name
had changed their feelings. When she was known to
be Margaret Jefferson, daughter of Jacob Jefferson,
there was neither smile nor work for her. The sudden
alteration of manner must proceed from somo cruel
mystery. Margaret would have given much to know
what it was. In her disappointment, she thought at
first of going straight home ; but then she remembered
that Amy's living depended on her exertions, and, ac-
cordingly, she went to a second shop. The proprietor

114

John Canada.

11 ti

began by asking her name and address. She gave
them humbly and timidly, looking anxiously at him.
Two customers turned their heads and drew back hastily,
as if they thought that their garments would be soiled
by touching Margaret's.

*' I can do nothing, Miss Jefferson, nothing at all,"
said Monsieur Bertrand, drily.

Margaret went quickly away, covered with confusion,
for she felt that her very name, in some mysterious
manner, was looked upon as evil.

Coming to another shop, a few doors further on, she
went in. A yoimg woman, a fervent Presbyterian, who
was well known among the members of her denomina-
tion, and whose name Margaret had heard mentioned in
connection with certain religious meetings, came for-
ward and politely asked to know her wishes. Margaret
stammered out her name and her request.

" Work !" answered the young woman. " As long as
there is any in the shop you shall never be refused.
Mr. Jefferson's daughter is always welcome here. We
know how much her father has done for the cause of
true religion and the authority of the king."

On this occasion, Margaret felt much inclined to re-
fuse the proffered work ; however, as it was to be of use
to Amy and Lucy, she decided that she had no right
to do so, but the gracious manner of the Presbyterian
troubled her even more than the repulses she had met
with in the two French houses.

" What does this mean ?" she asked herself ; "what
service can my father be rendering to the Protestant

i •

'ii;-

Perplexities.

115

'hat
tant

cause. English and Schismatica speak his praises,
while French and Catholics reject him. I did not think
that the sorrow I felt yesterday could be so much
increased to-day."

Under the influence of this painful anxiety, Mar-
garet reached Amy David's house. The widow's affec-
tionate greeting dispelled her sadness for a moment,
and the happiness she felt in being able to do good
made her forget her own troubles. Amy spoke of
Lucy constantly, and Margaret promised to visit her
on the following day.

The doors of Lucy s prison were again opened
without any difficulty, and the two young girls were
soon in each other's arms. When the emotions of the
first moment had subsided, Lucy read her mother's
letter, and afterwards gave Margaret four pages written
in pencil to convey to her. " Tell her that my courage
is keeping up," said Lucy; " suffering is nothing when
one is fulfilling a duty. I know that God will deliver
rae ; my confidence in Him is unbounded. Would He
have sent you to me unless He meant to give me com-
fort ? The very gaoleress has become different towards
me — who would have thought that a little timid
creature like you could do so much P Dear sister and
friend ! if you only knew all the happiness I have
prayed God to give you.*'

*• Happiness !" answered Margaret ; " that is a great
deal to ask ; it will be enough for me if I always have
strength to suffer."

"To suffer I you to suffer ! "

i:i

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116

John Canada.

" Perhaps by suifering more, I shall better learn to
console others."

** Tell me, Margaret, have you any hope of obtaining
justice for me?"

" I will do all I can, be assured of it — look, here is
a book which you may hide in your dress; read it
again and again ; it is " The Following of Christ." Pray
for me, Lucy, and now farewell, your luother is anxious
for tidings of you."

Margaret left the prison in deep dejection ; the
generous and enthusiastic excitement which leads youth
to deeds of self-devotion for the innocent, the virtuous,
and the suffering, had passed away, and she now felt as
if she was accomplishing an imposed task, and paying
a compulsory debt.

In the evening, her father's gaiety had a false ring
to her ear ; she left him early and heard him go out.
Before he came in she had fallen asleep. The next
day, as she passed beneath the lilacs, she saw a paper
on the ground, took it up mechanically, and read the
few lines it contained.

It was a list of about thirty names, the last, under-
lined with red ink, was that of George Malo, and a note
was added to the effect that he was to he watched,

^Margaret fell back on the bench and burst into
tears.

I! 1

A Red Sky. 117

CHAPTER IX.

A RED SKY.

The dwellers in the House of tlie Bapids had
spent a calm and peacefid day. According to his
nightly custom, Captain Halgan with his servants had
gone round to see that all was right. The iron bars
were in their places, the bolts were fastened, and the
family, exiled by the horrors of the French Revolution,
went tranquilly to sleep. The Captain had long been
at rest ; Tanguy of Coetquen was forgetful of his
regrets in the illusions oi a dream ; Patira had just
laid aside an interesting volume, and extinguished
the lamp which stood on a little table beside him.
One alone was still awake in the House of the Rapids ;
it was the silver-haired maiden.

Since the Coetquen family had come to the village
of La Chine a great interest had taken possession of
her life. Formerly, the orphan, whose first memories
were of a flight through the forests after the massacre
of her people, had lived at John Canada's side in com-
plete security, but in the depths of her heart she
cherished the images of a past which nothing could
restore. Nonpareille could not without ingratitude
think of returning to the woods which once concealed
the villages of her tribe. And what would have become
of her there? It was almost certain that no member of
her family had survived the ruin of her race. Could

1 .?--

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I"

Iff

118

Joht} Canada.

Rt i

i '

\\ i

she go and take her place by the fire of strangers ?
Yet, more than once, in spite of her gratitude, and
notwithstanding the civilizing effects of John Canada^s
society, she asked herself whether happiness and liberty
were not to be found in a hut of branches, beneath the
shadow of the brilliant foliaged shumach, by a river's
side or on the banks of a lake. But, no doubt, what
Nonpareille really wanted most was the companionship
of those of her own age, for from the day that
Herve and Patira crossed the threshold of the Great
Hut she ceased to suffer from that home- sick longing
for the wild woods, and the whole aspect of life was
changed for her. She sang like the birds whose nests
had once hung close to her swinging cradle, and while
she retained the native pride of her race, she became
fonder of study. Having submitted to civilization,
she at last grew to love it. The hours spent with
Patira and Herv^ seemed to be hours of blessing. She
was delighted with her own progress, and often ima-
gined the astonishment mingled with fear which would
fill the mind of a member of the tribe of Great Beaver,
if by any possibility one had survived, at seeing her
read a printed book, and express her ideas by the
aid of characters which had long been a mystery to
her. She never made up her mind to the sacrifice of
her picturesque costume. She felt so free in her
elaborately embroidered tunic, and her feet were so
light and nimble in her leather bead- worked mocassins
that she resolutely refused to make any concession on
this point. One day a Canadian lady brought Non-

ti.aisi:

A Red Sky.

119

pareille some European garments, and insisted on her
putting them on. The poor little thing felt paralysed
and disfigured ; the long hair which she loved to have
floating ahout her like a veil was fastened up and she
was brought before a long looking-glass, but when
she saw the effect of her new attire, she tore it in-
dignantly, took down her hair again, and for a long
time could hardly forgive the Canadian lady.

" Father Flavian who poured the cleansing water
on my forehead," said the silver-haired maiden, " does
not bid us give up the totem of our tribe. He
knows that the image of our Saviour is engraved on it,
and hangs to the wampum necklace. When Non-
pareille dies, she will go to heaven in the dress of a
daughter of the race of Abenaquis, and she will take
her place by the side of St. Catherine of the woods.
Nonpareille will learn to use the pen and the pencil,
she will work like a European woman, but she will
keep the dress of her mother and the tokens of her
ancestors."

Herve's simple admiration gave fresh strength to
Nonpareille's will; she felt that the costume of the
Abenaquis gave her a strange influence over the
Marquis of Coetquen's son and over Patira, and she
added rows of necklaces, brilliant bands, and bracelets.

Nothing was now wanting to her. She was waking
up to a new life beside these other young ones.
Hitherto the gravity of those around her had somewhat
weighed upon her spirit ; the coming of the Coetquen
family brought a fresh and mighty interest into her

f •;■

120

John Canada.

i- •:;

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11"^

life. And how many dreams passed througli her young
brain, how many castles in the air were built up, and
suddenly replaced by others ! Every day brought its
own amusement and its own joy ; and she rose at dawn
to lengthen the time which was so full of pleasures.

On the evening of which we are now speaking, full
of thoughts of an excursion to be made on the morrow,
and entranced by the beauty of the hour, Nonpareille
went to her own room when Tan guy dismissed the
family to rest ; but she had no wish to sleep, and open-
ing her window she leant on her elbows and looked
out. The moon was shining in all her marvellous
beauty in a pure blue sky. The St. Lawrence sparkled
in the silvery light, each little ripple in its turn re-
flecting it till it seemed as if the very river were full
of drifting brightness. On the horizon, earth and
heaven met in an indistinct line of yapour. Nonpareille
was lost in the contemplation of this scene of nocturnal
splendour. She remembered sleeping on nights like
this in the shades of the forest, while the note of some
bird died away in a neighbouring nest, and the young
of the deer moved among the branches. In the midst
of her peaceful enjoyment, Nonpareille turned her eyes
in the direction of the village of La Chine, and all at
once a cloud appeared to rise from the earth towards
the sky. At first she thought she was mistaken, but
soon all doubt was at an end, the column increased in
volume and rose up straight and defiant towards heaven,
through the calm still air. What could be going on in
the village ? It oonsiated c£ some huts belonging to

Inc
no
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A Red Shj.

121

Indian fishermen ; the smoke from their hearths couW
not be visible at so great a distance, and, moreover, no
Indian would be awake at so late an hour of night.

All at once Nonpareille saw the cloud change, it
grew lighter and more transparent, and assumed lumi-
nous colours. The very sky put on a different aspect,
and was rapidly dyed with the hues of dawn ; then the
yellow light grew stronger, red was mingled with it,
and suddenly a bright purple spread over the heavens.
The river rolled on as if dyed with blood, and Nonpa-
reille holding her head in her two hands, exclaimed,
" Fire ! Fire ! " She rose from the window, crossed the
passage, and hastened to the room where Herve slept
under Patira's guardianship.

" Get up ! get up!" she cried, " misfortune has come
upon the Great Hut. It is not Montreal in flames, —
look at the redness of the sky, ! son of a land of heath !
John Canada's dwelling will be to-morrow only a heap
of ruins !"

Nonpareille hastened down- stairs, knocked at Tanguy's
door, and then at Halgan's with a cry of alarm ; then
she returned to the casement in the lobby and watched
with dismay the progress of the fire. In a moment,
Halgan, Tanguy, and Patira were at her side.

*'Look!" said the Indian girl, with outstretched
arm.

" The town is on fire !" said Tanguy.

" No," answered Nonpareille ; " John Canada's house
is burning."

" John Canada ! let us run and help bim I"

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122

John Canada.

*' Do not go ! do not go !" cried Nonpareille ; "you
see you can do nothing, nothing at all!"

" But Black Bison, and the servants ?*'

" Men are men, they will save themselves if fire alone
is the danger.'*

" Fire alone — what do you mean, Nonpareille ?"

"The thunderbolt has not fallen on the Great
Hut — the servants are faithful, but the Hurons are
cowards."

" You think "

" The Hurons wish to wreak their vengeance on John
Canada. No one knows that be has gone from the
Great Hut. The Hurons have surrounded it, to burn
the enemy of the English alive."

" Thank God ! Jobn Canada is far away, but the
hapless men who have stayed there will perish for lack
of help. It would be mean of us to leave them there
unaided."

The little hand of the silver-haired maiden was laid
on Tanguy's arm. " The daughter of the forests knows
the customs of the Mingos. They killed her mother
and scalped her father. After having burned the
Great Hut in the hope of getting fire-water, blankets,
and necklaces from the Indians, they will come and
pillage the House of the Rapids."

" They would venture?"

" Perhaps they may !" said N^onpareille.

" Upon my word," answered Halgan, " if so, they
will find out whom they have to do with. My eye is
true, and I have a good musket, at least I shall have

I nil

ave

A Heel Shj.

123

the satisfaction of laying some of those miserable Red-
skins low."

" Certainly, father, we have some pistols and knives,
but what are these weapons in comparison with those
of our enemies ? If Nonpareille is not mistaken in her
conjectures, the Indians are provided with muskets and
powder. We have hardly yet settled ourselves, and
there has not been time to prepare for a siege. Would
it not be better to seek safety in flight ?"

" The forests near us are full of Hurons,*' said Non-
pareille ; " it is better for men to defend themselves."

" His lordship is mistaken," said Patira, " we have
an arsenal here."

" An arsenal," cried Halgan, '* where did that come
from, my friend ? "

'* From your ship. Captain."

" How ? you thought of it ?"

** You gave me permission to bring from the Lady
of Gaul anything I thought I wanted for the adorn-
ment of the House of the Eapids ; I took the furniture
first, and then half the arms. The ship can still hold
her own against a corsair, and though we are few in
number, we shall be able to defend ourselves against
t^ ose flendish Hurons, whom Nonpareille calls Mingos."

Halgan pressed Patira's hand so as to give him pain.
''* It is always your part to save us, is it not ?"

" I do what I can," replied the youth. " Come, my
lord! and come, Captain! the cellars are full of weapons,
I filled a waggon with them ; we have even got a mortar
here."

124

John Cmuiih.

El',!

!' 'Ji

The servants alarmed by the atir going on in the
house, had risen hastily and assembled in the vestibule.
Tanguy found them agitated, questioning each other
without in the least understanding what was taking
place, but ready to meet any danger that might arise."

" Follow me," said Tanguy.

Patira, bearing a lantern, was the first to descend
into a cellar whose appearance a8t<»nished the Captain.
Nothing that could be done to make it safe and to
preserve the weapons it contained from damp, had been
neglected. Along the walls were ranged rows of
muskets ; axes and swords glittered in the comers, and
a mortar opened its immense throat at the side of a
barrel whose contents the Captain readily guessed.

Halgan gave each of the servants an axe and a
musket. He and the Marquis armed themselves com-
pletely, and Patira, choosing weapons proportioned to
his stature, placed himself at the Captain's side.

" You will confide the care of Herv^ to me, will you
not P" he asked.

" That is my portion," said Nonpareille; " while men
are fighting, women watch."

The barrel of powder was brought up by the servants
and placed in the yard. The racntar was placed on the
steps, just opposite the door of the palisade, and the
Captain having loaded it with a. heavy charge entrusted
it to Patira.

" Fire and I are old acquaintances !" said the youth.
" How often have I heated John Anvil's furnace !"

Two servants were left in the court beside the great

A Red Skfj.

126

door, which was carefully barricaded, and then Tanguy,
Halgau, and the rest of the inmates went up to
the first storey of the house. This commanded both
the river and the forest, and in case of attack the
defenders could fire from the windows, and might hold
out during a long siege.

The sky had grown redder and redder and its bright-
ness intensified the gloom of the surrounding forest.
The flames, however, no longer darted up towards
heaven, and by degrees the glow of the fire seemed to
begin to fade.

The Great Hut, which was made of wood, had fallen,
and in its place was now a mass of burning frag-
ments.

" If the Indians have completed their work to-night,
they will attack this house," said Nonpareille.

"And if not r

** If not, they will sleep in the forest.'*

*' And come back to-morrow night ?"

" Most likely — there is spoil to carry away, and
there are heads to scalp ; the Hurons can seldom resist
such temptations.'*

" John Canada has lived a long time in this country,"
said Tanguy ; "I cannot understand this outbreak of
sudden hatred.'*

" John Canada is too fond of the French — Hurons
are paid."

" Father," said Tanguy, " if we escape the danger
which now threatens us, to-morrow we will leave the
Hapids and go to Montreal.'*

■

126

John Canada.

h-l

1-;

At this moment a piercing cry resounded from the
outskirts of the forest.

" The cry of the Mingos ! '* said Nonpareille. " I know
it ; it sounded in my ears the night my mother was
killed."

" Herv^ ! Herve I" exclaimed Tanguy.

" Let the Pale- face fear nothing," said Nonpareille ;
*' I will take care of him.**

The Indian girl went to the child ; he was still asleep.
She gave a rapid glance round the room, tied a long
scarf ahout her waist and placed a knife at her side,
then shutting the shutters returned to observe the
movements of the savages, but they continued invisible.
No doubt they had assembled their forces, and were
holding counsel as to the manner of attack. The first
part of their dreadful work was easier than the second
would prove.

The Huron assailants had been ordered to destroy
the Great Hut, and absolutely forbidden to make
prisoners. This prohibition seemed to them a hard one.
No doubt the savages love fire-water, blankets, and
necklaces, but they equally love to bring back to their
village a number of prisoners, and feast their eyes on
the tortures which they inflict upon them. The present
exrjedition was looked upon as a mercenary and un-
i^^rthy undertaking, and the Huron s resolved that they
would not be satisfied without some act of prompt and
terrible revenge on those whom they looked on as their
foes.

The emissaries sent to make themselves acquainted

A Red Shh

127

irith the position of John Canada's habitation neces-
sarily passed before the House of the Rapids. This
dwelling had not been mentioned to them, and evidently
its inhabitants were net as yet obnoxious to the posses-
sors of Canada. But although the Hurons had not
been sent to make war against Marquis Tanguy, it
occurred to them that they might, by attacking his
house, make up for their disappointment at the Great
Hut. The owners of the House of the Kapids were
apparently much richer than John Canada. Immense
spoil might be found there, and besides bearing home
the scalps of the slain, the Hurons would lead prisoners
back to their villages and make them a gazing-stock
to the men of their tribe.

In order to have more time for their, work of blood
and pillage, the Hurons resolved to make an end of the
Great Hut as soon as possible. Many precious hours
might be wasted in a combat, men might be lost and
morning dawn before they could take the inhabitants
of the House of the Rapids captive. The death of
John Canada and his companions was the primary
object of the expedition ; therefore, the fifty Hurons
encircled the palisade of wood which formed the de-
fence of the house, then collected branches and dry
moss in several heaps outside it, and simultaneously
set fire to them ; the flames soon caught the wooden
stakes and they crackled and fell.

The savages formed a living circle outside the circle
of fire.

Lance in hand, for under these circumstances they

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128

John Canada.

f r

! ,'

did not use their muskets, they waited till the flames
should alarm the inmates of the Great Hut. The
burning heat and the sense of intense suffocation
suddenly aroused the sleepers. In a moment Toyo
and Tambou as well as the Black Bison were on their
feet. The two former uttered cries of distress and
kissed the amulets which hung about their necks ; the
Indian Chief looked at the burning palisade, and
sought some means to escape from the peril. Until the
Hurons saw that the inhabitants of the Great Hut were
aware of their danger they kept silence, but as soon as
the frightened countenances appeared at the windows,
and cries of anguish arose from the beleagured house,
they broke forth into wild shouts of joy.

The wooden wall gave way on every side almost at
the same moment, and a ring of fire encircled the
dwelling and its inmates. The savages, holding their
lances in one hand, with the other seized pieces of the
burning wood, and cast them with fiendish skill on the
shingle roof. The terrible missiles were flying through
the air in all directions, and the inmates could not hope
to defend themselves against their deadly assailants.
Toyo and Tambou, after having cried like children, rose
up suddenly when the Black Bison appeared before
them and said in a tone of mockery : " The children of
the Ebony Coast are not men but squaws. The red
flesh of the Hurons bleeds beneath the knife, and it is
possible to scalp them. What would the master say if
he heard that the Black children wept and did not
EghtP"

I J

A Red Sky.

129

" Poor darky is lost," said Toyo ; " that is quite
certain."

" Nothing is certain but that you are cowards. The
Ebony Coasts have nothing but death to look to, why
not try a chance of escape ?''

Tambou shook his head hopelessly, but replied, " You
tell niggers what to do."

" My black brothers will each take one of these
bars of iron and use it as a club ; they will not leave
each other, and will strike together ; without waiting
to continue the struggle, they will leap over the fire
and run towards the river. The river is edged with
reeds, and my black brothers can swim."

The two negroes understood the Bed- skin's reason-
ing. It was possible that the unfortunate men might
not succeed in their endeavour, but at least they would
have done everything in their power to defend their
lives.

Black Bison kept up the courage of the servants,

endeavouring to convince them that a passage might

be made through the flames, and pointing out to them

that the lances of the Hurons were less formidable

than the fire. He himself, endeavouring to avoid

observation, anxiously watched all that was taking

place around him. Two of John's Canadian servants,

armed with long knives, dashed through the fire

kicking aside the burning embers, and endeavoured

to make a passage for themselves, but they were met

by eight Indians who, with a lance, tried to separate

them. The house was burning, and no longer offered

I? fr '

lip.

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130

John Canada.

hope of refuge. The two men seized the Ilurons' lance
and sought to hreak it ; the Uurons tugged it ^vith all
their might, and then suddenly let it go with a cry of
savage joy. The result of this manoeuvre was to
throw the two Canadians violently to the ground,
and they fell forward across the hurning wood.
Two blows of a lance left them dead where they
lay. Meanwhile, the two negroes, in obedience to
Black Bison's advice, in their turn tried to make a
way for themselves through the terrible circle. The
dusky hue of their skin enabled them to crawl un-
perceived along the ground ; when they rose up, three
Mingos opposed their further progress, but their iron
bars were heavy, the river was near at hand, and the
love of life redoubled their muscular strength. With
a desperate effort they cleared the line of fire by a
prodigious leap. Black Bison was behind them ; his
costume, whose details could not in the confusion and
darkness be observed, and the manner in which his
hair was knotted on the top of his head as if ready
for the scalping knife, concurred in misleading the
Hurons, and making them believe that the Indian
who was following the negroes was one of their own
company.

Only, as it seemed unlikely that a single warrior
would be able to kill or to secure the two negroes, three
Huron warriors darted off in pursuit of them.

" Bun ! run as hard as you can !" said Black Bison
to Toyo and Tambou.

The two brothers were gaining ground, but the

■f : 'I'

A Red 8hj.

131

Hurons were renowned as swift runners, and soon
were within a short distance of Black Bison, who
turned suddenly round and confronted the three
pursuers; with a hlow of his tomahawk he cleft the
skull of the first Indian, and disahled the arm of the
second just as he was going to seize his tuft and scalp
him.

The Mingos now saw that they had to do not
with one of their own tribe, but with a formidable
enemy. In answer to their cry some other Hurons
appeared, pursuing the nagroes whom Blaclc Bison
constantly encouraged in their flight. The last of
the three Mingos struck Black Bison on the shoulder,
but had hardly time to congratulate himself on having
shed the blood of the brave Abenaquis, for he fell flat
on the ground, just as the Hurons came up with the
two negroes. They had thought themselves safe ; the
banks of the river were so near that they could almost
touch the reeds that grew at the water's edge when the
point of the Hurons' lances caught them in the flank.
They had no time to wreak their cruelty on their
victims, for Black Bison's axe laid one of them low,
and the next moment he himself fell amid the reeds.

The whole house was now in flames and the agonized
cries of the wounded servants were mingled with the
Mingos' shouts of joy.

132

Johi Canada,

li|.

CHAPTER X. ,

FBISONERS.

When the work of destruction was finisbed the Indians
rushed along the road leading to the House of the
Rapids. They counted on finding its inmates asleep,
and surprising them during their first slumber.
The Hurone, according to their custom, went in sin*
gle file, er/ savage putting his foot in the print
of the one who preceded him, so that their numbers
might UB it' as . i s possible in the moonlight be un-
kno^vn to their victims. A deep silence had succeeded
the terrible shouts that had filled the air during the
conflagration of the Great Hut. The band of savages
advanced noiselessly, and in the distance resembled a
giant serpent gliding along the bank of the river
whose waters still reflected the varying hues of the
fire.

Halgan, Tan guy, Patira and the servants watched
from the upper windows, musket in hand.

When the Indians reached the palisade which sur-
rounded Tanguy's house, they walked round it, carefully
ascertained the position of the gates, and then consulted
in a low voice as to their line of action. As they were
anxious to secure booty and scalps, they could not think
of employing the bame means which hud succeeded in
the destruction of the Great Hut. To climb the barrier
would have been difficult, for not only were the trunks

Prisoners.

133

the

of the trees which formed it high and smooth, hut the
tops of the stakes had been carefully pointed. After
having struck the palisade in many places to ascertain
whether the resistance was equal everywhere, the chief
of the expedition made a sign, and seizing his tomahawk,
dealt a heavy blow to the lower part of the wall ; this
blow re-echoed so as to alarm the Hurons, and it
seemed probable that the noise would awaken the
inmates of the dwelling. Ihe savage drew back a little,
and carefully examined the front of Tanguy's abode,
then, having observed no sign of life, he again raised
his weapon, and this time the stake was almost cut
through. Twenty more strokes of the axe resounded
through the air, the upper cross-piece of wood was
attacked and four of the posts cracked and fell into the
court. The breach was opened. All was still motion-
less and silent about the house, save that a distant bark
and an angry growl were heard. No doubt, some
faithful guardians were imprisoned in an inner court,
or were keeping watch in the passages of the house.

Eagle's Plume, the chief of the attacking party, looked
round him uneasily, the silence and stillness disquieted
him. But one of his companions got through the
breach and raised up the fallen stakes which
formed a sort of barricade in front of the hedge. At
that very moment the report of fire-arms was heard,
and the Huron fell to the ground. A cry of fury burst
from the lips of the Indians. They perceived that the
quiet aspect of things was delusive. They had no
information as to the number of inmates living in the

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134

Jfohn Canada,

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House of the Rapids. They were a party of fifty, and
imagining that Tanguy of Coetquen might have ten
servants, they had feit no douht as to the result of their
attack.

Two alternatives were before them ; they might
either retire now that it was evident that the house was
in a state of defence, or, trusting to their skill and
courage, might endeavour to storm it, to reach the
storey whence shots had been fired, kill those who per-
sisted in offering resistance, and make as many prisoners
as possible. The last plan was the one adopted. A
council was held outside the palisade, and after the
first Indian had been struck by the ball, no other
appeared. Halgan and Tanguy watched with their
arms loaded and ready. The servants also were on the
alert, prepared to fire at a moment's notice. Patira
had noiselessly left his post by the window and glided
down the stairs. The door of the corridor had been
left half open, and the mortar on the top step of the
entrance lay like a black monster. The youth took his
place beside it, and also closely watched every move-
ment of the Indians.

If the Hurons had entered the court one by one, the
defenders of the house would have been able to see
them and to deal with them with fearful promptitude.
In a general and simultaneous assault of the whole
force, many, no doubt, would fall beneath the fire of
the besieged, but ultimately the place could be taken
by assault.

Eagle's Plume determined on the former course. The

Prisoners,

135

desire of pillage was so intense that the savages never
thought of the greater peril to which those foremost in
the attack would be exposed ; their fury almost blinded
them to danger. Tomahawk in hand, they uttered the
hoarse yell which is their battle-cry, and rushing upon
the palisade were soon within the quick-set hedge.
But almost at the same moment the barrier fell beneath
the half-naked crowd, a dense smoke obscured their
view, and a storm of fire met them. The rattle of
musketry was mingled with the thunder of the mortar,
and a bloody breach was made in the advancing
column.

Shouts, which were fiendish rather than human,
answered the unexpected volley, the wounded rolled
upon the earth with broken heads and shattered limbs.
But on this occasion, contrary to their usual custom,
the Indians did not tarry to bear their wounded to a
place of safety, the time needed to carry them away
would have permitted the inhabitants of the House of
the Rapids to reload their fire-arms. The Hurons
sprang over corpses and wounded who lay writhing in
their agony, and continued their headlong course.
Just as they reached the threshold of the House of the
Kapids, the bars of iron were rapidly drawn back;
Patira having discharged the mortar was aware that
he could not keep up the fire, and accordingly he re-
joined the Marquis and the Captain.

They were both calm and resolute.

But what words can express the feelings of Tan guy's
heart ? If he had been alone in the world, he would

.< »

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136

John Canada.

'^.'.y

M^-

have helci his life cheap ; Herve, however, was there, —
Herve with no defence at present save the arms of
Nonpareille.

Had his heloved child escaped all previous perils
only to become a prey to the savages ? Condemned to
death, even before his birth, delivered by Patira's
marvellous devotion, rescued from the Round Tower,
after the baptism of Blanche's tears, hidden in the
Cobbold's Cave, shut up in Spinning Jennie's hut, re-
ceived by the Abbot of Lehon — was he now to die in
this distant land, with his grandfather and father,
and the two young creatures who loved him as their
brother ?

But if Tanguy's mind was full of anguish for Herve,
Patira's fears were no less anxious. The heroic Breton
youth considered himself as having a sort of right over
the last of the Coetquens ; so after leaving the mortar
which had cast such terror among the savages, he
hastened to the upper room where !Nonpareille and
Herve were to be found.

" Has the silver-haired maiden courage ?" inquired
Patira, who loved to use the language dear to Non-
pareille's heart.

" My brother may lay his hand upon my heart, it
never beats faster when there is danger."

** The Mingos will be here in two minutes."

" That means that the Pale -faces have two minutes
to live."

" God knows it is so."

" What does my brother desire ?'*

prisoners.

137

«f

The child's safety.

young brother

t think of himself ?"
" He has no right to do so at such a moment."
The sound of the attack made by the Huron s on the
gate reached the two young people. Patira looked
around him as if he would ask counsel of external
objects.

The report of a fresh discharge of musketry assured
him that the Hurons had lost more men. In his
anxiety and despair he looked up to heaven with a
supplicating glance.

Patira was with Herve and Nonpareille in an
apartment on the side of the house opposite to that
threatened by the Hurons. A door opened from this
side of the house into the forest, while the other
door looked down on the St. Lawrence. The part of
house next the forest was in complete shade, while
the front, illuminated by the brilliant moonlight, was
visible almost as clearly jis in broad daylight. Tanguy
and his father had too much feeling for the beauties of
nature to allow a great clearing to be made round their
habitation. Strictly speaking, the forest served as a
park to the house, and over the most projecting part
of the roof fell the shade of giant branches which the
Marquis had made a point of preserving.

As Patira was praying for some means of deliverance,
his eye was caught by the enormous branch of a sugar-
maple tree, which hung over the roof at a distance of
about nine feet. It seemed almost impossible to reach

:!ai

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138

John Canada.

,:. "iffiafn!

it, and yet, when Patira observed it, he felt as if God
had heard his prayer.

Above the rooms which were now about to become
the scene of a merciless struggle, were some lofts with
narrow windows from which it was possible to get on
the roof.

Patira held Herve closely in his arras.

" You know I love you," he said, ** and that for long
I was in place of a father to you. Will you obey me
as you obey him, as you obey God ?"

"Yes," said the child, "you know I did not crj
when we went through the underground passage at the
abbey."

" And you won't be afraid now ? '

" Not if you come with me."

" I will fight at your father's side, but Nonpareillc
won't leave you."

A terrible crash was heard at this moment, the door
of the house had been broken in by the savages.

" It is time ! it is time !" cried Noiipareille. ** Let
my young brother save the Wren of the Woods, and
afterwards go and fight at his muster's side."

Patira grasped Nonpareille's hand, and with her
climbed the stair leading to the lofts.

As soon as thev were in the lofts, Patira took Non-
pareille's long scarf, got through the narrow window
out on the roof which happily was not a steep one.
He weighted one end of the scarf with a heavy knife,
threw it over the maple bough, drew it as tight as he
could, and then secured it to the window by driving

i: :

yisonvn.

139

the blade uf the knife into a joint of the window-frame ;
he then stretched out one arm to Herve who clung
to him, and with his other hand drew Nonpareille
forward.

In auother moment the three were on the roof. The
report of fire- arms was heard from anew direction, and
Patira knew that the conflict was going on on the
stairs.

He seized the maple bough with both his hands,
bent himself back and said to the silver-haired maiden :
" I have strength to hold it back until you reach the
trunk of the tree and hide yourself among the foliage.
Have you courage to try this way ?"

Nonpareille looked at Patira with a sort of enthusi-
astic admiration.

** Yes, yes," she said, " I can die for those I love. I
will take back the scarf as you do not now require it to
hold back the branch, and I need it to bind Tanguy's
child to me."

With equal agility and coolness, Nonpareille un-
fastened the scarf, wound it thrice round herself and
Herv^, and then with the calmness of her race, put her
foot on the flexible bridge which she had to cross.
Herve shut his eyes, repressed a cry and clasped his
arms around Nonpareille' s neck.

Shouts and cries, the clashing of weapons and the
sound of blows from the butts of muskets reached their
ears.

" Quick ! quick !" said Patira, " the Mingos are in
the upper rooms."

BZ^

140

John Canada.

Iv.

Ill

Nonpareille stood on the great bough, and, aiding
herself by the smaller branches which sprung from it,
went forward with cautious slowness ; her foot did not
falter, she went straight up the perilous ascent with
the skill of a rope-dancer.

Patira meanwhile was on his knees, with outstretched
arms, expending all his remaining strength in keeping
the enormous bough in its position. He was praying
with the fervour of a martyr for the safety of these two
young creatures. A cry of alarm rose from his lips :
Nonpareille had made a false step, she was no longer
erect but was slipping along the branch. Notwith-
standing all her lightness and agility he feared that
her head had suddenly become giddy. Patira's hands
were covered with blood, he had no longer power to
hold the maple bough, and he trembled at the idea
of seeing it escape from his grasp, but the Eong of a
mocking bird was heard amid the foliage, Nonpa-
reille was in safety and for the time she and Herve had
nothing more to fear.

Patira hastened down from the loft, sprang into the
corridor, knife in hand, and looked round for the
Captain and Tanguy.

The corridor and the stairs, like the court, presented
a fearful spectacle. Two of Tanguy's men lay pros-
trate on the floor, the head of each was terribly
wounded and their scalps hung from Eagle's Plume's
girdle. The third of Tanguy's retainers was fighting
desperately »^gainst five Hurons who were disputing
amongst each other for his life and his scalp. The others

mm^^

Prisoners.

141

were determined to sell their lives dearly to a troop of
assailing fiends.

The Captain and Tanguy had taken shelter in the
recess of a window whose depth was some defence to
them. Their enemies could attack them only in front,
and Tanguy's courage and Halgan's sk^'U might prolong
the contest and keep victory trembling in the balance.

Eagle's Plume, the dreaded chief of his tribe, had
found in Halgan a worthy antagonist. The boarding
axe was well able to hold its own against the tomahawl:.
Fire flashed from the weapons as they met with deadly
clash. Eagle's Plume fought with savage fury, but
the Captain never lost his calmness and self-possession.
Equal courage shone from the eye of each combatant,
both had determined to conquer. One was fighting
for the safety of those near and dear to him, the other
longed to add to the number of bloody trophies which
adorned his girdle, and aspired to the glory of leading
captive one of the Pale- faces whose torture would here-
after furnish him with a spectacle of delight.

While the Captain was struggling with Eagle's
Plume, Tanguy was holding his own against two
Hurons; the first of them. Bed- Head, was of giant
stature, but the second. Swift Panther, was hardly
more than a youth ; he persistently strove to dislodge
Tanguy from the shelter of the window, with a view
of throwing him down and taking his scalp. Swift
Panther did not yet rank among the warriors of his
tribe, and longed to perform some brilliant action.
With this fixed idea in his mind, the young Indian

: V,

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142

John Canada.

id: I

wielded no weapon but his great scalping knife, while
Red-Head brandished a lance whose blade had been
broken and reduced to the dimensions of a javelin.
The sword which Tanguy used with admirable skill
enabled him to resist the shock of his two assailants.
The Indians, furious as they were, could not but do
justice to the valour of the white men, and would ^pve
deemed their chances of victory doubtful, but that iree
more of their tribe, each with two scalps at his girdle,
rushed on the Captain and Tanguy. Five Hurons were
now opposed to Halgan and Tanguy, and it seemed as if
their courage could not withstand such shocks. Neither
Halgan nor his son-in-law, however, appeared weary ;
the boarding axe of the former had wounded the hand of
Eagle's Plume, and blood was flowing from the Captain's
shoulder. All at once, as it was impossible that one
sword should long keep the arms of four Hurons
in check, the Marquis dealt a blow to the right, and
pierced an Indian's breast, but an axe thrown at him
and aimed at his wrist, shattered his sword and left
him with nothing in his hand but a shapeless and use-
less stump.

At the very moment when a knife- wound called forth
a cry of fury from one of Tanguy's adversaries, Red-
Head turned round in frantic rage, for he had been
struck from behind ; the Hurons who had been fighting
with Tanguy now directed their efforts against the
new adversary who appeared on the scene. One of the
savages was tripped up and fell to the ground, and

wmm

Prisoners.

143

striding over Red-Head's fallen form, Patira with an
axe in eacH hand, glided to Tanguy's side.

Tanguy was more anxious for his child's safety than
for his own.

" Herv6 !" he said ; " what have you done with
Herv^ P"

" He is safe with Nonpareille.**

Red-Head, who had risen from the ground, threw his
heavy axe at a venture, and hit Tan^i^uy on the temple
with a violence which elicited a cry of pain.

Struggles continued in the corridors and rooms of
the House of the Rapids. £y-and-by but one group
continued to offer a desperate resistance to the savages ;
two servants, who had not succumbed in the fight, had
just been made prisoners, and their fate foreshadowed
that which awaited Halgan and the Marquis.

The latter continued to fight, but he no longer hoped
that victory would reward his desperate courage.

" Patira," he said, while still withstanding the
shock of his assailants, ''you know where my son
isP'

"Yes," replied the youth, dealing a blow at Swift
Panther's arm.

" Go and join him," said Tanguy. " Oh ! this hate-
ful Huron ! I am wounded, Patira ; go to Herv^, pro-
tect him I save yourself ! John Canada will return,
you may trust in him."

" Let me die with you," said Patira ; " I am fighting
like a man, these Mingos are not yet our masters."
But they will be — my eyes are growing dim and

r:\k

11!

!J.

144

Jo/m Canada,

my arm is weak — ^my child ! save my child ! Nonpa-
reille will not be able to defend him !"

'* You command me, my lord P"

** Yes," said Tanguy ; " what God wills will happen
to us."

Patira made no objection, he passed into the re-
cess behind the Marquis, seized the bar which sup-
ported the window with his two hands, and let him-
self down till he stood on a narrow projecting wooden
cornice. The comer of the house was not far off,
the trunk of an immense tree as high as a mast
formed its support ; the youth remembered the time
when he had been one of a troop of acrobats, but
never, even in those days had his coolness and agility
been more severely tested. He crept along the cornice,
reached the comer of the house, and then slid down
the trunk of the maple tree. I'^or a moment he re-
mained lying on the ground and listening attentively
to every sound, then he crept round the house to
the porch. The mortar stood at the top of the
steps and three corpses lay near it. A dull growl
reached his ear, and in a low voice he called, " Mingo !
Mingo !"

The bear slowly approached; Patira caressed his great
head, and with him crossed the threshold of the House
of the Eapids, passed through the rooms and passages
which had been the scene of such fearful tragedies,
and made his way to the maple in which Nonpa-
reille and Herve had taken refuge ; he clasped his arms
around its great trunk and began to climb up, while

prisoners.

145

hile

Mingo walked round and round shaking his great

nead.

In a few moments Patira was with Herve and Non-

pareille.

" Does my young brother bring bad news ?*' asked
the silver-haired maiden.

" The Hurons are masters," said Patira; " the Hurons
are ten against one."

** And Tanguy, the noble-hearted ?"

"Tanguy is in the hands of God."

" Halgan ?"
He is fighting like a lion."
They sent Patira to be with us ?"
Yes, Nonpareille, and with all my love for Herve,
I was near disobeying the Marquis. I could only
think of dying at his father^s side."

** Tanguy will not be killed," said Nonpareille, " he
will be taken prisoner."

" Does not that mean the same thing ?"

" To gain time is to save life."

An immense clamour rose through the air, and the
hearts of the three young creatures sank ; these fierce
shouts meant a decided victory.

And indeed, a few moments later, a band of savages

rushed out of the house. Each one of them bore

away a share of the spoil, and in the midst of a

group of warriors, Patira distinguished the Marquis of

Coetqucn, Halgan, and two servants, closely boimd and

guarded as prisoners.

The red reflection of the fire had gradually faded

irn^

146

John Cano/fa.

from the sky, tlie pale hues of da\m had taken the
place of the bloody crimson, the sun was about to rise,
and the brightness of morning would reveal in all their
horrors the traces of the nocturnal battle. Those Hurons
who had succeeded in taking Coetquen and Halgan
captive, satisfied withthe^'r share in the victory scorned,
pillage, but their companions searched the house for
powder and shot, and fire-water. Their greed delayed
them on the scene of action, and Red-Head, Swift
Panther, and Eagle's Plume impatiently waited while
their comrades collected as much booty as they
desired.

Eagle's Plume moreover would not leave the House
of the Rapids without giving burial to the dead. In
a commanding voice he summoned four of the warriors
who had followed him, and at his desire they went to the
edge of the forest and hollowed out a great pit. "When
it was ready the Indians left Halgan, Tanguy and the
two servants under the care of five of their number, the
rest of the Indians gathered round the pit, the dead
were wrapped in bison skins and laid in it, and when
the turf was closed over their grave, Eagle's Plume bade
them farewell, wishing them all the happiness that
awaits warriors who gain the happy hunting-grounds.
He commended their courage and vowed that their
memory should always be kept alive in the hearts of
men of his tribe, then turned way from the resting-place
where the trophies of the dead were buried with them.

Tanguy and Halgan meanwhile conversed in low
tones ; their countenances bespoke courageous resigna-

Frmners.

147

tioxL, but their eyes looked anxiously around as if
seeking for some trace of Patira and Herve.

For one moment Patira was tempted to imitate the
song of some bird of his native land, in order to reassure
the Marquis, but Nonpareille laid her little hand on
his mouth.

" The Mingos know the note of all the birds of this
country ; if the least sound betrayed the presence of
the Wren of the Forest, we should be lost.**

By this time day had fully dawned. From their
high point of observation, Patira and Nonpareille saw
the troop of Hurons, now reduced to twenty in number.
During the burning of the Great Hut and the assault
on the House of the Rapids, they had lost thirty
warriors. Their victory was indeed very like a defeat ;
Patira's mortar had certainly laid ten victims low, by
the ample charge of grape-shot with which the brave
youth had loaded it.

At last Eagle's Plume gave the signal for departure,
the prisoners were placed in the midst of the Hurons,
and the troop was lost in the shades of the wood.

CHAPTER XI.

THE THOUSAND ISLES.

The Hurons continued their way in the shelter of the
forest where the shades of night still seemed to reign,
though daylight had come in all its radiant beauty to

148

John Canada.

light up the river, and the sun was slowly rising higher
find higher in apurehlue sky. Intoxicated with slaughter,
with the odour of bloodshed and the joy of the pillage,
the savage warriors seemed insensible to the fatigues of
this night of blood and fire. Their haste to be secure
from pursuit and their impatience to reach the village
where they were expected, banished all thoughts of re-
pose. The wounded seemed to forget their sufferings.
Their scorn of physical pain, and the stoical pride which
concealed all emotion, sustained them during their forced
march. One of their number had fixed three scalps to the
point of his lance, and marched in front waving this
terrible banner to the sound of war- songs. Halgan and
Tanguy were bound with ropes of bark, and followed
their conquerors without either complaint or bravado.
Both had received wounds, and both sulEered in mind
more than in body. The thoughts of the old seaman
and the young noble turned to Herve, the last being
whom heaven had spared to their affection, the only
descendant of a glorious race which had suffered in
France, and had now come to take root in a distant land
which was still France.

They spoke no word. What could they have said ?
Notwithstanding all their strength of mind they feared
being overcome by their feelings. Contemptible as
their tormentors might be they wished to prove their
courage before them.

After they had marched for an hour through the
forest, Eagle's Plume and Red- Head consulted together
for a moment and then gave the order to halt. Throe

The Thomand hks.

149

men were desired to seek some game, and the captives,
who were chained together at the foot of a tree, saw the
Hurons begin to make preparations for a meal. A
quarter of an hour had not gone by when the hunters
returned ; one brought a buck and the others some birds,
and while the younger warriors made ready the venison.
Eagle's Plume came near to Halgan and Tanguy.

His face was calm and his voice betrayed neither
hatred nor wrath.

" The Pale-faces need care and food," he said, "the
Red- skins are men. . . Until the great wizard of the
Tribe can cure them, Eagle's Plume brings them heal-
ing herbs."

Tanguy took the leaves which the savage offered
him, but at the same time explained to him that he was
unable to dress the wounds of his companion.

Eagle's Plume, who knew enough English to make
himself understood, asked : " Will the Pale-faces pro-
mise on the Manitou they worship, not to try to
escape ? "

" We promise," said Halgan and Tanguy, with one
voice. *

At a sign from the chief the chains of the prisoners
fell off, and the Captain and Tanguy rendered each
other what service they could.

They had both received several wounds, none of
which however were dangerous ; but they had lost a
great deal of blood and were reduced to a state of great
weakness.

The apparent compassion with which the Hurons

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w^''f>m

150

Jo/m Canada.

i iW-

now treated them was not due to any sentiment of hu-
manity, but was in accordance with a custom resulting
from their pride and cruelty. Any enemy not massa-
cred at once for the sake of his scalp, was reserved as
a spectacle for the rest of the tribe. Equal glory was
to be gained from making captives and from collect-
ing scalps. The men, women, and children, who had
remained in the villages or encampments impatiently
awaited the return of the conquerors, and awarded great
praise to those who provided them with the spectacle of
the torture. But this horrible entertainment would
have lost half its value if the prisoners had been ex-
hausted by forced marches or by suffering, and had
soon sunk into the semi- torpor of approaching death.
The Indians wished the unhappy victims who were to
be made the sport of their barbarity and the target of
their skill, to be robust men, capable of enduring
lengthened torments and of feasting their curious gaze
by the protracted misery they could undergo.

Halgan and Tanguy were well aware that the hu-
manity of Eagle's Plume was false, but they considered
it their duty to live until the hour appointed by God to
call them hence : and, moreover, the heart of man is slow
to give up hope, and, even in the most desperate situa-
tion, finds some consolation and some prospect of
deliverance.

Halgan had often battled with the angry waves; he had
borne the brunt of the attack of English ships ; he had
been so often in the midst of tempest and of conflict
that his calmness did not fors»kp him in this new trial

The Thousand Isles.

161

As for Tanguy, he recalled the terrible hour when he
had flung himself from the Gallows of the Dimnamas,
he remembered the attack on the Abbey of L^hon, the
perils he had undergone amid the ruins of the manor of
Guildo, the squall which had almost upset the little
vessel in which he and his child were flying from his
distracted country, and his wonderful rescue by Halgan
at the moment when hope was almost lost ; with these
things in his mind he felt he could not doubt that
God's protecting care would still watch over him, and a
vag^e, dim light seemed to arise in the darkness of his
night and bid him expect and believe that he would
yet be delivered.

When their wounds had been dressed and they had
partaken of the venison and slept for a short time, the
prisoners were in some degree refreshed, and when their
new masters aroused them they were able to take their
places in the midst of the band.

Their fetters had again been put on, but although
they were solid they did not hurt their wrists or their
legs. The Hurons knew that their escape was im-
possible, and therefore put them to no unnecessary
suffering.

The next night was again spent in the forest.

The prisoners could not in the least guess the in-
tentions of their Huron captors nor find out where they
were going. They only knew that the savages were
keeping near the river and journeying towards its
source. If, therefore, any opportunity of escaping
presented itself they could not mistake their way.

152

John Canada.

'Pi

I^j

i^.6

More than once, recollecting tales of travels they
had read at the manor of Coetquen or on board ship,
Halgan and Tanguy endeavoured to leave traces of
their course by breaking the branches of trees, or
disturbing the foliage of shrubs, but a warning word
accompanied with a threatening glance from Eagle's
Plume made them feel the prudence of giving up all
such attempts ; and yet it was necessary to find some
means of giving their friends a clue to their whereabouts.
All at once an idea occurred to Tanguy. He had
about his neck a rosary with links of gold, a remem-
brance of his dead mother. Patira was the only human
being who would seek to foUow Tanguy and Halgan,
and Patira knew this rosary. Tanguy succeeded in
putting one of his hands to his breast, and, keeping it
there as if he were in pain, contrived to break one of
the golden links and detach a coral bead. In another
moment this fragment of the treasured keepsake lay on
the short smooth turf of the forest like a berry fallen
from the beak of some passing bird. But tbe journey
might be a long one and these precious beads must be
sparingly used. The way lay under great trees and the
Indians seemed to have no intention of encamping for
a few days of rest. When they wanted food, one ofthei
number would take his bow and arrows and soot u

bowed down beneath the weight of a buck. . re of
dry wood, which emits but little smoke, was lighicJ, the
meat was broiled, and after the repast all the f ragmentb
were carefully gathered up and then the march was
continued.

The Thousand hies.

163

Notwithstanding the fatigue of the long journey,
Tanguy and Halgan improved in strength, and their
wounds gradually healed. But as they travelled on
and the distance which separated them from Montreal
increased, the hopes which they had at first cherished
grew weaker and weaker. With all Patira's intelligence
and devotion, what could he do for Tanguy if the
Indians took him away to some village buried in the
depths of the forest ?

For eight days the troop marched on in this way, and
for eight nights in his dreams the Marquis of Coetquen
beheld John Canada's house in flames, and saw all the
horrible pictures of the siege of his own dwelling. At
the end of that time the Indians halted in a glade of
the forest remarkable for its ancient and immense trees.
Four Hurons advanced towards the oldest which wei-e
hollowed by age and retained life only in their highest
branches. From the great hollow trunks of these
trees the Indians drew forth four bark canoes and
placed them on their heads and then the whole band
left the forest and came down to the bank of tlie
river.

Evidently any one who might endeavour to follow
and to rescue the prisoners would here lose all trace of
them.

As Tanguy got into the canoe he sacrificed the last
beads of his rosarv. He was in the same canoe as the
Captain, Eagle's Plume, Swift Panther and Red-
F'^ad.

Though they were going against the stream, the

( :
I

i I
1 I

154

John Canada.

strong men rowed rapidly on, and the little flotilla made
way without going far from the shore.

But as they proceeded, the river seemed to widen,
and soon islands of variouo aspect rose from its bosom.
Some were very large and were covered with immense
trees, others were formed of abrupt rocks. No two among
them were alike in shape or size. Capes and bays and
indented shores lay over against one other, and within
the green recesses the pure blue water seemed to sleep,
forgetting the rapids of the river, and bathing the
masses of flowers with caressing ripples. Tht aspect
of the St. Lawrence in this part of its course was like
that of a verdant Venice, with endless lagoons inter-
mingling and crossing one another like an inextricable
net-work. No ship or barge could have navigated this
labyrinth, but the light canoes of the Indians mat e
their way securely through the intricate passages.
The savages knew each little promontory, each tree
and each tongue of land. This archipelago is called
the Archipelago of the Thousand Isles, although their
number has probably never been accurately ascertained.
It is altogether unlike anything elae on earth, and on
its surface the bark canoes floated like birds.

If Coetquen and Halgan had been tourists, or
travellers for pleasure the scene now before their
eyes would have filled them with inexpressible de-
light ; they gazed on islets clothed in green of every
possible shade, and on dark rcoks which formed a
striking contrast with the verdure, while here and
there it seemed as if a lovely flower-garden varied

The Thousand hies.

155

the wilder aspect of iiadiie. Some of the islets were
a complete mass of reeds, the narrow depth of earth
could only produce this v/aving nosegay to be swayed
by every breeze. But instead of finding consolation
in the beautiful picture, Tanguy and the Captain felt
that it increased the intensity of their sufferings. No
doubt, all trace of their fate would now be utterly lost.
Supposing Patira, with the devotion of which he had
already given such ample proof, to be capable of fol-
lowing the Marquis and his conquerors through the
forest, it would still be impossible for the youth, in his
ignorance of the wiles and deceits of the Ilurons, to
track Tanguy's way through the interminable lagoons.
The prisoners' eyes met, and each saw that his
fellow-captive knew the extent of the peril from
which no human hand could save them ; but they
spoke not of their fears, their heroic courage was
called into play more than it ever yet had been.

By-and-by the canoes reached a pleasant bay offer-
ing an easy landing-place, indeed the long bark ropes
showed that it was an accustomed mooring-place for
the canoes of the wandering tribe.

As Eagle's Plume and his companions drew near to
the shore, columns of smoke rising up through the trees
informed the captives that the island was inhabited.
The Hurons grasped their prisoners by ilic arms nnd
made them leave the canoe, all the band then landed,
fastened their boats to the bark cables and bent their
steps in the direction whence the smoke appeared.
At a certain distance from the native village, the

mr'

156

John Canada.

Hurons attered their death-cry. It would be impos-
sible to give any idea of thig heart-rending sound;
before relating their exploita and displaying their
trophies of victory and their booty, they lamented those
who had fallen in the double attack on the Great Hut
and the House of the Rapids.

A cry of mourning was raised for each of the tribe
who had fallen, and inunediately from the distance
came in response a mingled howl of men and wail of
women and children.

The soxmds of weeping and sorrowing from the two
answering bands drew nearer and nearer together, till
the inhabitants of the island village joined the re-
turning band, and warriors, old men, squaws, and chil-
dren were mingled in one group. For the rest of the way
the cries continued with increasing rage and grief ; then
when the savages were opposite to a great cabin which
was adorned with special care, and had fearful figures
standing at its four corners. Eagle's Plume began to
speak, and in an eloquent and able discourse recounted
the merits of the warriors who had died in battle with
the Pale-faces. He praised their courage in war, and
their wisdom in council ; he swore that their children
should be adopted by the Huron warriors, that the
wigwams of their widows should be provided with fresh
venison by the chiefs, and he concluded by declaring
that each one of them had shown himself worthy of the
protection of the Great Spirit, and had found an eternal
entrance into the land of the happy hunting-grounds.

His words in some degree culmed the sorrow of his

The Thousand Isles.

157

hearers ; moreover, Eagle's Plume endeavoured to turn
their minds from the memory of the dead to the glory
of those who had returned to their brethren. The
nocturnal attack on the two houses assumed the pro-
portions of a great battle. Swift Panther madly shook
the lance to which he had fastened the scalps of a negro
and two Canadians. Each Huron in turn boasted of
his deeds with savage pride and exhibited his scalps
and his share of the spoil.

At last Eagle's Plume said, " The sons of the Great
Spirit, protected by Areskoui, the God of War, have
brought back two Pale- faces whom they have made
prisoners. Their wounds are not yet closed, they must
be thoroughly healed before the council decides on their
fate."

Enthusiastic applause greeted Eagle's Plume's words.

At this moment all the objects pillaged from the
House of the Rapids were spread out on the ground ;
the women greedily drew near, and the children slipped
in between the rows of warriors.

The Hurons, who had fought with indescribable fury,
were like children in the deJ'ght and pride with which
they took possession of a necklace, a bit of red cloth, or
a weapon. Eagle's Plume considered it more consistent
with his dignity as a chief to leave his share of the
spoil to his comrades. The prisoners he had taken
brought him glory enough.

After they had mourned for the dead, and divided
the spoil, the warriors who had taken part in the ex-
pedition held a hasty council, and then Eagle's Plume,

^1:1

158

John Canada.

Swift Panther, and Red-Head drew near to the
prisoners.

" The Pale-faces are not accustomed to marching
through the forests, and they are still suffering from
their wounds. They may henceforth rest in the empty
hut in this village. The women and the warriors
will hring them venison, with a strengthening drink,
and the perfimied leaf whose smoke sends care to
sleep."

Tanguy understood the words of the chief, who spoke
English, he took Halgan's arm, and together they
entered an empty house.

Its owner had perished in the fire at the Great Hut,
and his widow had gone to live with the wife of
Red-Head.

This log-house was primitive in its simplicity. In
the middle was a hearth on which no fire was at
present burning ; in one corner a heap of sassafras
branches seemed prepared to serve as a bed, and two
boar-skins with some earthen pots completed its scanty
furniture.

The Hurons thought it unworthy to chain their
prisoners The hut would be so well guarded that
such a precaution would be unnecessary. Just as
Halgan and Tanguy were rejoicing in the thought of
being left alone, a youth, whose years did not yet
warrant his participation in the expeditions of the
tribe, entered the cabin, took up his position on one of
the stones of the hearth and silently began to smoke.

He was the prisoners' apnointed gaoler.

'Die T/iOusand Isld.

159

Tanguy knelt down in the comer of the cabin.
The ardent neophyte, who had entreated Father
Ambrose to admit him into the number of the monks
of Lehon, was still full of the faith which had been
revived in his heart beneath the convent roof. In
his great grief he cast himself into the arms of God,
knowing full well that consolation and salvation come
from Him alone.

Halgan, the veteran seaman, had somewhat for-
gotten the lessons of his mother. He had sailed over
distant oceans, had entered many temples, and looked
with curious eyes at heathen idols, and in his wander-
ings he had lost the sentiment of faith. No doubt he
vaguely remembered its teaching, but it was somewhat
as one remembers an air heard in former days, he did
not, like Tanguy of Coetquen, rest upon his faith ; he
did not embrace the cross with that grasp which makes
the weakest strong. Halgan looked to his own strength,
Tanguy sought courage from God. He prayed for a
long time, while the Captain, with his head buried in
his hands, called up the memory of the beloved beings
whom he could never see again. Blanche of Coetquen
buried beneath the shadow of the Oak of the Twelve
Archers, and the beautiful boy, Merve, whose little
arms would never again be clasped around his neck.

After an embrace, which silently expressed t^eir grief
and their courage, Tanguy and Halgan lay down on
the sassafras and went to sleep. The youthful warrior,
who had been desired to watch over their sleep, spent
the night seated on the hearth -stones, persist-ently

' 1

160

John Canada.

smoking his long calumet, and from time to time cast-
ing an anxious glance towards the sleepers. At dawn
another Indian took his place ; Tan guy and Halgan
still slept.

When day broke upon the island, colouring the sky,
casting brightness on the summits of the rocks,
spangling the water with gold, and spreading a carpet
of beauty over the ground, a young woman timidly
crossed the threshold of the hut.

She held in her hand a basket filled with plants, and
coming near to the wounded men made them understand
that she would take care of them.

Tanguy interchanged a few words with her and
learned that she was called Nuaga Rose, and that her
father was one of the Sachems of the tribe. Without
expressing in words the compassion which filled her
soul, she endeavoured to make the prisoners understand
that in the presence of their young Huron guardian it
was impossible for her to answer the questions which
they were longing to ask her. But with a rapid move-
ment she took a copper cross from her bosom and
showed it to them as a token that they had a right to
expect assistance from her.

When she had performed her errand, she left the
house without looking back, for she feared to see the
curious eyes of the young Huron fixed upon her.

Later in the day, two hideous old squaws brought
food to the prisoners. The gaoler was allowed to leave
his post, and Eagle's Plume came and solemnly
informed Halgan that no fetters would be put on him,

the
the

The Thousand lales.

161

and that he and his companion were free to walk
about the island.

The hearts of the captives beat with joy at this
announcement. They were allowed to go where they
would, might they not consider themselves as almost
certain to regain their freedom ?

Eagle's Plume read their thought in the glance
which they interchanged. " The Pale-faces are men,"
he oaid ; " the Hurons were not the first to take the
war-axe from its resting-place. Until the Sachems
have decided the fate of the captives they must remain
within the bounds of the island, and never pass over
its girdle of blue water."

Although these words were spoken calmly, Tanguy
understood the threat which they conveyed.

" Father," he said to Halgan, " God alone knows the
number of the days we have to spend here, in the midst
of enemies who are reserving us for further suffering.
But, without absolutely giving up all hope of escape
from our enemies, it is evident that we must act
with the greatest possible prudence. Keen eyes
are watching us on every side. Men, women, and
children are all observing us closely. The gaoler who
kept us in this house has been removed, but every
Indian is a new gaoler."

" I know it," said Halgan, "I see it ; and with such

a future before us, and the certainty that a Huron has

never shown mercy, I had rather be bound to the

stake to-day, than wait in the expectation of torture."

" Perhaps to-morrow may bring us deliverance."

|, 1 ;■ !

162

John Canada.

" Deliverance ! Tanguy — I am a seaman, and per-
haps people are not wrong in thinking me a good
Captain, but I declare to you that after having passed
through all those endless canals and passages, I should
never be able to find my way back to the St.
Lawrence."

" You are mistaken, father, you could do it."
" Without a compass or instrument of any kind P''
" There is a star which never fails us, father, the
Providence of God."

Halgan buried his face in his hands ana made no
reply to Tanguy's words.

CHAPTER XII.

WILD BINDWEED.

The sun rose bright and glorious next morning. The
great fatigue they had undergone had brought sleep to
the prisoners. When they rose from their deep re-
pose they embraced each other warmly ; courage came
back to their hearts, that calm courage which bears
any trouble that may come. The door of the hut was
gently opened and a young girl stood before the
captives. She was tall and graceful, her dress was
simple and elegant, and her brown hair was adorned
with bright-coloured flowers. Her timid glance be-
trayed compassion, and after having placed some pro-

Wild Bindweed,

163

risions on the ground, she was turning away when
the Captain said to her in English, " Does the Wild
Bindweed know the fate that is before us P ''

" The chiefs have not yet assembled in the Council
Hut."

" Are all prisoners as a matter of course condemned
to death ? "

" No, not all," answered the Wild Bindweed ; " an old
man often adopts a captive, and in such a case he at
once becomes one of the tribe."

" Can we leave this hut ? "

" The Pale-faces bear no chains."

** And will the Wild Bindweed serve us, as a sister
would serve a brother ? '*

" The young Eed-skinned maiden was once the
captive of the Pale-faces ; she remembers that they
showed her respect."

Wild Bindweed pronounced these words in tones of
emotion, and then fearing no doubt that the Hurons
might suspect her of some pity for their prisoners she
left them uttering in her own mother-tongue a word
whose sweetness they understood although they could
not have translated its meaning.

Halgan and Tanguy shared the meal of venison
and wild roots which the young girl had brought, and
then, wishing to make sure that they really were in the
enjoyment of comparative liberty, advanced to the
threshold of the cabin. No sentinel guarded the way
and they were emboldened to take a few steps beneath
Ike shade of the trees, and were able to observe the

; /

164

John Canada,

general plan of the village : it was a collection of huts
constructed by a horde of Indians who were ready to
take service with the English, or to share in the
chances of any private enterprise. The dwellings had
been erected without order and as it were by chance.
Trees furnished the principal materials, the walls were
made of boughs and moss, and bisons' skins sufficed for
the roof. The Hurons, not intending to make a long
sojourn in this spot, had not in any way prepared for the
snowy season. Fishing and hunting provided them with
the principal part of their food, and a few roots and
some Indian com, grown in a plot of ground tilled by
the women, completed their provision.

A hut larger than the rest and decorated by two idols'
heads affixed to posts, was the meeting-place of the
chiefs of this nomad tribe. Here they held counsel, and
discussed the interests of the nation. The death of the
twenty Indians who had been slain in the recent ex-
pedition had cast their respective families into mourn-
ing. Nothing short of the possession of a share of the
coveted spoil could allay the noisy demonstrations of
grief. When Halgan and Tanguy left their cabin, each
of the victors had adorned himself with some object
stolen from the House of the Kapids, a rag of purple, a
weapon, or a necklace ; the women were walking about
the village to exhibit the gifts received from their
husbands or brothers. Among these men and women
were certainly some possessed of human feeling,
whose hearts were bleeding from a cruel blow ; but the
Indian is, from an early age, accustomed to repress

ill

Wild Bindueed.

165

all expression or token of feeling, and save in the
turbulent manifestations of public mourning looks upon
it as a point of Honour to let no trace appear upon his
countenance of what is passing in the depths of his
heart. As Wild Bindweed had told the prisoners,
there were no sentinels charged to take special care of
them, and yet they soon found that as this duty was
entrusted to no particular person, every member of the
tribe was expected to perform it.

Seated at the doors of their cabins the young women
and girls gazed at the strangers with persistent curiosity .
The men who, either by chance or as a precaution, were
scattered about the village, while busy preparing their
weapons, mending their nets or mah'ng bark canoes,
never lost sight of those whose death was one day to
provide them with the pleasure of a spectacle.

Neither Halgan nor Tanguy was mistaken as to the
general feeling. Delay was granted to them and their
limbs were left unfettered, but only on condition that
they should make no attempt to escape.

Moreover, when the two captives had gone round a
part of the island, they began to wonder whether such an
attempt would not really be an act of the greatest folly.
"Weakened as they were by their wounds, what could
they do when the whole population of the island care-
fully guarded them ?

The archipelago of the Thousand Isles was even
more secure than a prison. They could not think of
getting possession of a canoe, and though Wild
Bindweed's countenance had convinced them of her

H^[

166

John Canada.

liilll^

compassion they knew that she was powerless to save
them.

The scenery which surrounded them was beautiful as
the Garden of Eden. Fresh and luxuriant f oilage hung
over the mirror of blue water. On every side this delta,
with its rocks, its flowers and its giant vegetation, called
forth their wonder and admiration. It surpassed in its
loveliness all that a painter or poet could have dreamed.
Tanguy of Coetquen, accustomed as he was to the wild
aspect of Brittany, felt the charm of this new world.
The Captain seemed less sensible to its marvels. His
soul was oppressed by the gloomy future which seemed
to be before him. He thought of Herv^, Blanche's
child, and of Blanche who had died so terrible a death.

The Marquis and Halgan sat by the river's side and
gazed on the panorama of sea and earth and sky ; the
Indians were astonished at the tranquil bearing of their
prisoners. They had often been told that the Pale-
faces were cowardly when death was before them, and
they had looked for some sign of weakness in Halgan
and Tangly. A savage pride gave the Bed- skins that
fortitude which has often been the wonder of those who
have witnessed their silent endurance of fearful tortures ;
but the Indians little knew that men of Tanguy 's stamp
draw from their faith a courage far superior to the
stoical bravery of the savage. Moreover, Tanguy and
Halgan saw the importance of avoiding everything that
might excite the suspicion of the Hurons, and accord-
ingly they were extremely prudent in all their proceed-
ings. When the day drew to its close they left the

Wild Bindweed.

167

the

shore of the island and returned to the centre of the
encampment.

Before a hut of which the door was raised up, Wild
Bindweed was preparing the evening meal. Her father
was dead and she took charge of a young family of
hrothers and sisters. The captives greeted her with a
smile of recognition, and then seeing a group of old
men seated in front of a large hut, they joined them and
sat down amongst them. The Indians did not seem
surprised, they respected the silence of their guests and
offered them pipes. Tanguy mildly declined the calumet,
but Halgan accepted it and began to smoke in company
with the Sachems.

" The Great "Wizard of the Red-skins was to have
brought some healing plants to the Pale-faces," said
Halgan, " but we have not seen him. If men are not
afraid of suffering it is well to preserve their strength
that they may sing their death-song nobly."

" The Great Wizard is driving the bad spirit away
from a sick man's hut," replied the old man whom he
had addressed, "he will not forget the Pale-faces —
they will be able to recover their energy and their
wounds will have time to heal before they are called
upon to prove that they are not squaws but famous
warriors among the chiefs."

These words of Red-Head's confirmed what Wild

Bindweed had said : if the captives were to die it would

not be for a considerable time ; indeed, the Sachems

themselves did not yet seem to have fixed the date.

The best thing they could do therefore was to have

168

Jo/m Canada.

patience and endeavour to regain their vigour of limb,
aiid then if possible to procure canoes or to make t'leir
escape by swimming.

At the moment when they had landed on one of the
Thousand Isles which are rocked by the St. Lawrence,
Halgan and the Marquis were ready to make the sacri-
fice of their lives. The terrible scenes of the night of
blood and pillage through which they had passed,
and the sufferings of the march, had combined to
take from them all hope of escape ; but as hours wore
on they had got accustomed to the enjoyment of
their liberty, and the love of life had begun to
revive within them. They were still ceaselessly
watched. By night some of the young Indians slept at
the door of their hut and during the day some of the
Hurons came with them under the pretext of fishing or
shooting in their company. Nothing in the attitude or
words of these Indians showed hatred or ill-will ; they
seemed to be merely performing a duty.

Halgan thought of escape. He did not consider it
impossible to leave the island by night, to swim across
the narrow passage, and thus to go from one island or
promontory to another, leaving no trace behind them.
No doubt they would be pursued, but after all they were
not prisoners bound by their word of honour. The right
of regaining his liberty belongs to a captive.

Eight days had gone by since the Indians had burned
the Great Hut, Eagle's Plume was absent, and the
Indians were giving themselves t-o the pleasures of the
chase with passionate enthusiasm.

Wild Bindweed,

169

fiometimefl they pursued the roehuck hv night,
dazzling it by th« light of their pine- wood toi ches, and
striking it while it was stunned by the noise and blinded
by the brightness which broke upon the silence and
calm of the ni^ht. At other times they aimed at nobler
game and watched for the greedy bear that sought for
honey in the hollow trunk of some old tree.

One morning they determined to hunt a bear well-
known for his enormous size and believed to be a
hundred years old. The prisoners accepted the Indians'
invitation and joined the chase ; they knew that it
might involve peril, but their situation made them in-
different on this subject.

The bear in question had hitherto avoided all snares
and escaped from all attempts made on his life, and a
close and desperate struggle was now expected.

The Indians set off in good spirits, armed with mus-
kets, lances, and hunting-knives. They followed the
track of the bears, from the hollow tree which served as
a hive to the wild bees, and the prints of his gigantic paws
redoubled their anxiety to secure so magnificent a prey.

It was not long before they caught sight of the monster,
who was returning at the same hour as on the preceding
day to the neighbourhood of the maple- tree; he walked
along confidently, quietly, and heavily, shaking his
great head at every step.

All at once a sound from a thicket made him turn his
head and look round. He soon suspected the presence
of men and stood still, his eyes grew bright and he
uttered a dull growl, which was presently changed into

170

John Canada.

a terrible cry of pain as a shot was fired by Eagle's
Plume ; the ball bad struck tbe bear near the shoulder
and he rushed furiously towards the bushes where the
hunters were concealed.

They saw that a desperate conflict was before them,
and Eagle's Plume, who longed to distinguish himself,
sprang over the underwood and stood face to face with
the furious animal.

The bear reised himself on his hind legs, and with
irresistible force flung himself upon Swift Panther and
hugged him with a violence which elicited a stifled
groan from the youth. His two arms were rendered
powerless by the immense paws of the beast, he was
unable to vxq the hunting-knife which he grasped in
his hand and he would inevitably have perished, had
not Eagle's Plume rushed forward and plunged his
scalping- knife between the shoulders of his enemy.

Swift Panther and the bear fell to the ground
together, the weight of the monster overwhelmed the
young man, but he managed to free himself and left his
adversary rolling on the grass with furious cries. The
hunters then broke forth into imprecations and mocked
the foe who \. d not courage to endure.

" We thought you were a hero, a patriarch of the
forest," said Eagle's Plume, addressing the dying bear,
" but you groan and wail like a squaw. If, instead of
being struck by my weapon, you had wounded me, I
would have suffered like an intrepid warrior end died
before I let my pain be known,
the tribe of bears."

You are a disgrace to

Wild Bindweed.

171

But the monster victim heard not the words of the
Hurons, it continued to writhe in spasms of agony.
Before the hlood had all flowed forth through a great
wound, the body of the bear was agitated by painful
convulsions, then his paws grew stiff and the mass lay
motionless.

The hunters' next care was the transport of their
game to the village ; they did not for a moment entertain
the idea of cutting np so fine a quarry, accordingly four
of the youngest among them formed a bier of strong
branches and thus bore the fallen foe whose deeds had
long been handed down by tradition in the forest, in
triumph to the village.

The hunters had reached a very thickly wooded and
iifficult part of the way when a rustling of the grass
warned them to be on their guard. They stopped
suddenly, and the sound drew gradually nearer to them,
till they presently perceived the flat head of a serpent with
red eyes which darted fire as it saw the Indians. Well
armed though they were and brave as the slaughter
of the bear had proved them to be, they did not endeavour
to kill the reptile with a musket ball, or to crush its
head with the back of a tomahawk but stood still and
paid him every mark of deep respect. Then, bending
down to the ground, they puffed out tobacco smoke in
great clouds before the rattle-snake, made meoy
genuflections and protestations of friendship and sub-
mission to their "grandfather," for so they are
accustomed to call this formidable reptile. The
rattle-snake being no doubt conciliated by the honour

172

John Canada.

paid to him, and also half stifled by the smoke, made no
attempt to harm his worshippers, but slowly pursued
his way among the tall grass and disappeared amid
the bushes.

"Atahocan protects his red children," said Eagle's
Plume ; " the capture of the bear and the meeting with
the serpent are proofs of his bounty. Therefore after
a few more moons his grateful children will celebrate
great festivals."

The return of the hunters was a triumphal progress ;
the corpse of the bear was drawn round the open space
in the middle of the village, and as the day was now far
advanced, the dividing of the immense beast was deferred
till the morrow."

The squaws at the doors of their cabins busied them-
selves in the preparation of boiled sagamitz, talked
with wonder of the exploits of the day, and rejoiced in
the prospect of receiving a share of the giant game.
When the time of the repast had come, Halgan and
Tangiiy, according to their custom, went into a cabin,
and seating themselves in silence by the hearth, waited for
their share of the evening meal. They chose Swift
Panther's hut, and knowing that he understood something
of English the Marquis addressed him in that language.

" My brother has been fortunate in the chase," he
said.

" Swift Panther's knife seldom misses its mark," re-
plied the young man. " Has my brother ever hunted
the bear P"

" No," answered Tanguy, " but wild boars which are

Wikf Bsn<f'J?Hd.

173

Imost as formidable, and frijlves wbicb aboujid in my
country.'*

Swift Panther shook his head.

"The hunters haye smitten the old bear, the oak
trees were but acorns when that monster ran by
his mother's side — but who can tell if the bear is
dead ?"

" Why ?" asked Tanguy, ** my red brother saw him
stiff and bloodless."

" The Great Wizard has often told the Indians that
a terrible spirit lived in the body of the old bear ; who
knows whether the Evil Spirit will not bring him to
life again P Happily the wizard has taken the dead
bear into a cavern and heavy stones have been rolled
before its entrance to prevent his escape, but no one can
resist the spirits ! '*

Tanguy endeavoured to make the young savage
understand that a dead creature could not possibly re-
turn to life, but Swift Panther shook his head and it
was evident that the opinion of the wizard had far more
weight with him than the assertions of the prisoner.

After the meal, Tanguy and Halgan left the Hut
and walked in the open space. They assumed
a very calm and unconcerned manner, their last hope
being that they might lead their guardians to rehix
their watchful care and might take the tirst pu^ssiblc
opportunity of flight.

Their v/ounds were by this time completely healed,
they had regained their strength and with it their
energy. No doubt, if death had been before them they

174

John Canada,

would have met it with courage, but they deemed it
their duty to save themselves if possible, and at any
risk to find Herve and rejoin John Canada.

As the prisoners stood leaning against the trunk of a
magnificent shumac tree, Wild Bindweed came near to
them. She seemed weighed down with deep sadness,
and her hands, which grasped a bunch of wild honey-
suckle, trembled violently as she endeavoured to tie up
the flowers.

Tanguy quickly perceived the young girl's emotion.
Crimson Cloud and Bindweed alone among all the
Huron women had shown kindly compassion to the
prisoners. The youth and beauty of Bindweed added a
fresh charm to the kindliness expressed by her counten-
ance. The memories of her childhood softened her
heart, she could not forget that her own mother's life
had once been saved by the generosity of a white man,
and although she had to make a great effort to over-
come her timidity and perhaps also her pride, she came,
blushing but resolute, to tell the prisoners what she
could do to save them. The young girl had good hopes
of success. Tanguy's gentle manners and the Captain's
thankfulness made her feel that her words of kindness
and her considerate attentions fell on no ungrateful
hearts.

For a long time Wild Bindweed had hesitated about
entering on a conversation attended with difficulty, and
she would still have deferred it if the extreme gravity
of the occasion had not compelled her to speak. Being
driven to unveil the depths of her heart she chose the

Wild Bindneed,

175

•

evening hour when day fades into twilight, and did not
let the moonlight shine upon the pallor of her face, or
on the tears which fell from her sorrowful eyes.

" My brothers are cured,*' said Wild Bindweed, in her
musical voice, '' their limbs are strong again and they
can follow the chase or go forth to battle along with
our brave warriors. My brothers ought to accustom
themselves to the life of the Indians, the trellis huts
covered with bison skin, and the couch of moss where
the sassafras brings quiet sleep. The forests are full
of roebucks and game ; the fish in the waters of the
lakes and rivers can be taken with the lance or harpoon
— my young brother has not seen the winter's snow
often enough to have lost the love of life."

" Poor Bindweed !" said Tanguy, in a tone of sorrow,
" the number of our days is measured by the griefs
which we have borne "

" Before the Hurons took him prisoner, then, my
brother had suffered much ?"

" Suffered ! " cried Tanguy. " My wife died of
suffering. My country is a prey to a civil war, and
the purest blood of France is poured forth on the
scaffold. My ancestral home has been pillaged and
burned, and I shall perhaps never again behold Herv^,
the only being that binds me to this world ! "

" My brother the Pale-face has lost the companion
of his youth P"

" Yes."

" What is left him to love P"

"A child!"

176

John Canada,

■ii i

" A child ! " repeated Wild Bindweed, in a tone of
sweet compassion.

The young girl still hesitated. The words which had
hitherto heen said had been intended to prepare the
way for some serious proposal or grave confidence.
The name of Herve, which Tanguy had pronounced with
such passionate affection, no doubt made it easier for
her to pass on to the second part of her subject, for
she repeated again " a child ! '* with an emotion and
tenderness which almost aroused the hopes of the
Marquis.

" Oh !" said he, *' how full of gratitude I should be
to anyone who would enable me to see him again. No
sacrifice would seem too great to show my thankful-
ness !"

** Then," remarked Wild Bindweed, " you love that
child more than your life ?"

" Herv^ is the only treasure that attaches me to
earth."

Halgan's hand was laid on Tanguy's shoulder,
" Ungrateful man !" he said.

*' Oh ! forgive me, father," answered the Marquis,
** can you blame me for being too deeply attached to the
memory of your daughter ? "

The young Indian girl continued to speak, though
there seemed to be but little connection between the
words she had just said and the thoughts which she now
expressed. " We have seen strdngers become the guests
and the friends of the Hurone their conquerors. The
nation adopted them ; they trod the paths of war with

WUd Bindweed.

177

the tribe and followed the chase on its hunting- grounds.
A wigwam has been built for them in the village, and
a young girl of the tribe has taken her place at their
hearth ; in the quiet forest life they have forgotten
the turmoil of cities. Wild Bindweed has seen in her
own village a stranger who consented to be adopted by
a Sachem. The old men have the right to claim a
prisoner for a son to replace one who has fallen in war.
The young Indian orphan can save from death the
stranger whom she has chosen for her husband."

Wild Bindweed stopped ; a sob burst from her lips.
Tanguy took her hand in his and said, " Let the Wild
Bindweed answer her brother ; her heart knows not
treachery nor her lips falsehood. The chiefs have
spoken of the death of the prisoners P"

" They have spoken of it."

"Is the day fixed?"

" The day is near at hand."

" Wild Bindweed, who remembers that her mother
was protected by a stranger, wishes to pay her debt by
saving a captive. My sister is kind and pitiful, but she
forgets that a Frenchman cannot enter into an alliance
with the Hurons, the friends of the English, that a
Christian cannot be the husband of a woman who adores
the Great Spirit ard venerates the Manitous."

Wild Bindweed knelt before Tanguy and Halgan.

"The daughter of the forest is ignorant," she said,

" her husband, her master will teach her his religion.

Bindweed has grown up among the Hurons, she has

never done any harm. She knows that she is but a

178

John Canada.

feeble plant with no tree to support her ; fehc would
consent to be the servant, the slave of the Pale-face,
in order to save his life and restore his son to him."

" Yes, the young Indian maiden is capable of sacri-
ficing herself," said Tanguy, deeply moved. " She will
find a husband of her own nation who will make her
happy, she will remember that the stranger has cherished
her as a sister, but that it is impossible for him to found
a new home with her."

" The Pale-faces are proud,'' replied the Indian girl,
with increasing humility; "I know it, they deem the
children of the Hurons hardly fit to become the hand-
maids of their wives. Alas ! "Wild Bindweed obeyed
the voice of her heart when she offered her life to the
stranger who disdains the gift. If she had known any
other way of saving him she would have chosen it — let
my brother accept life from the hands of the daughter
of the forest! When the Sachems have united them,
she will open wide the door of the wiG:wam in which
he will have refused to sleep. He shall be free to go
far, far away. Or rather, she will not give him up to
the chances of a terrible voyage, she will go with him
in a bark canoe, she will steer him through the windings
of the river, and when she sees the great rapids before
her she will say to him ' My brother is free ! ' As for her,
the spirit of untroubled peace, the sweet spirit of death
will soothe her to sleep in his arms."

The Indian maiden was still on her knees ; her arms
hung down and the flowery branches of the honeysuckle
rose up around her. Her long black hair floated behind

til

An Apparition.

179

her like a mouruing veil. Her groat anxious eyes v/ere
sorrowfully fixed on Tanguy.

He laid his hand on her brow and said, " Blessings
on you ! Blessings on you for your compassion ! "

" Wild Bindweed has laid her soul and these flowers
at the stranger's feet," she said ; " the stranger has des-
pised the double offering." She covered her tace with
her hands and wept; then hearing the sound of an
approaching footstep she raised her tear-bathed face and
added in a voice of heartbroken grief, " It is death !
death ! if the strangers refuse the deliverance which the
daughter of the forest came to offer them."

At this moment a young Indian warrior came to the
prisoners and in a solemn voice informed them that
they were expected in the Council Hut.

Wild Bindweed sprang to her feet, rapidly addressed
some questions in the Huron language to the messenger
of the Sachems, and then, seeing Tanguy and Halgan
prepare to follow him, sank down upon the ground, and
hiding her forehead among the wild flowers repeated
with many a sob, " Wild Bindweed will be cursed.
Wild Bindweed has not been able to pay her mother's
debt of gratitude ! '*

CHAPTER XIII.

AN APPARITION.

The death of the prisoners had been delayed in order
that it might be accompanied with the greater solemnity
and pomp. The Hurons wished their captives to be

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completely healed of their wounds, and they were also
anxious that the execution should be the occasion of
religious ceremonies to render thanks to Areskoni the
god of battles, for the victory they had gained over a
tribe of Abenaquis with whom they had been at war
on account of the claims each party made to a certain
territory.

After its double success in war and in the chase the
tribe was prepared to enter fully into the savage delight
to be found in tho spectacle of the death of the two
Europeans ; and the valour displayed by Halgan and the
Marquis durii.q^ the attack on the House of the
Rapids, as well as their resolute bearing ever since
their arrival in the Thousand Isles, had raised expecta-
tion to the highest point. One of the Sachems was so
struck with Tanguy's valour that he made a proposal
to the chiefs, himself to adopt him ; this idea which
would perhaps under other circumstances have been
favourably received was rejected from fear of offending
the English.

The chiefs assembled in the Council Hut had smoked in
silence for more than an hour when Eagle's Plume arose
and after having extolled the valour of the warriors and
the wisdom of the Sachems, gave an account of his own
actions and boasted that he had directed the twofold
expedition which had set fire to John Canada's abode
and destroyed Tanguy's.

" The Ilurons," he proceeded, " have overturned the
war cauldron, their tomahawks are athirst for the
blood of the Pale-faces. The warriors of our tribe

An Apparition.

181

will see the enemy whom they have taken prisoner
faint and tremble, for the Huron alone can die a hero
and sing his death-song amid tortures. Before we
start on a fresh expedition let us sacrifice the prisoners
to the gods, and avenge the warriors who are gone to
the happy hunting grounds.'*

The conclusion of Eagle's Flume's speech called forth
unanimous approbation from the chiefs, and it wms
decided that the captives should be sent for, and should
learn the fate that awaited them on the morrow.

Swift Panther, one of the youngest warriors, was
chosen as the messenger to inform Halgan and Tanguy
that the chiefs desired their presence in the Council
Hut.

Wild Bindweed had not been mistaken as to the
nature of Swift Panther's commission. She understood
that the death-sentence of the prisoners had just been
pronounced.

Although this sentence could not be considered an
unexpected one, Wild Bindweed was struck down as
by a heavy blow ; for a moment she gave free course to
her compassion for those whom she would fain have
saved, then rising from the ground where she lay, and
bending her steps towards the cabin, she leaned against
the wall and watched the movements of the unhappy
beings who had refused to owe their deliverance to
her.

Halgan and Tanguy supported each other ua they
entered the Council Hut ; the Captain with his long
white hair was a complete contrast to Tonguy, whose

182

John Canada,

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finely-formed and noble head was closely cropped ; his
hair had been cut in the Abbey of L^hon and
had not yet had time to grow long enough to curl over
his forehead and neck. But this circumstance instead
of altering the character of his countenance perhaps
only gave it an expression of greater determination
and strength.

The Indians observed the two men for some time and
then Eagle's Plume with a semblance of gentleness
began to speak.

" The return of the Hurons to their village has been
met by sounds of mourning/' said he, looking one by
one at the chiefs who sat around the hearth, " for if
the warriors brought back spoil, they also brought back
tidings to wives of their husbands, and to fathers of
their sons who were sleeping on the banks of the river.
Those brave warriors have gone to the happy hunting
grounds, and yet they complain that the Hurons forget
them. The dead have no slaves where they are gone
to load their fire-arms and bring back the game. They
accuse their sons, their friends and companions, of
having lost all remembrance of them. They are in-
dignant, they expect that those who smote them with
the ball or the knife be sent to join them. The Pale-
faces are not squaws but men ; they will pay the debt
of blood.'*

" Yes, Hurons," replied Tanguy, " we are men, and
we are reckoned among the brave. In warfare and
on the waves we have done our duty, and with the
help of God, we will do it still. If our bodily strength

An Apparition.

183

should fail, if the tortured nerves give way amid
violent suffering, it will be none the less true that
throughout life we have given an example of courage.
Let me remind you, though the words may find no echo
in your hearts^ that we have not unearthed the battle-
axe. Neither of us has lived long in Canada. We
have been less than a year in the country, and we never
thought of declaring war against the Red-skins. The
Great Ononthio loved them. I say these things not for
the sake of imploring your pity, but in order to make
you see that in condemning us, you are committing an
injustice. We have not attacked you, and you have
burned John Canada's hut, and massacred our servants.
Let the blood of the innocent be upon those who shed
it!"

'* The Red- Children must honour their dead ; our
words have fallen on the ear of two great chiefs," said
Red- Head.

"And so,** inquired Halgan, "we shall die to-
morrow P**

" To-morrow,** replied Eagle's Plume.

Tan guy pressed Halgan to his heart in a close
embrace. They were both about to go out, when Wild
Bindweed came into the hut.

" For the time they have still to live,'* she said, " I
will be the slave of these two men.'*

" That is your right," answered Eagle*s Plume.

The two prisoners were led back, not to the hut
which they had occupied ever since their arrival,
but to a cabin of much larger size. Lest the idea of

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Bins:

184

John Canada,

the tortures whicli they were to undergo in presence of
the assembled tribes, should induce them to seek an
easier death beneath the waves of the river, their limbs
were fettered, and two warriors were appointed to guard
them and remain at the entrance of the hut.

The men whom the chiefs honoured by selecting
them for this duty were sons of Sachems, and re-
nowned for their courage, and the choice made of these
young men excited much jealousy amongst those
Indians whose age did not yet permit them to take
part in great expeditions, but who were anxious to give
proofs of their courage.

Wild Bindweed prepared the yenison and wild rice
in the prisoners' cabin. She did not now weep. It
might have been thought that in spite of the sentence
which had been pronoimced, some secret hope sustained
her. Perhaps she thought that the proposal which
Tanguy had rejected before his condemnation to death,
would seem to him welcome and even desirable, now
that its acceptance would give him life and restore
his child to his arms.

The Marquis and Halgan hardly seemed to be aware
of the young girl's presence. For the hours which
were still left to them, they wished to be occupied
entirely with the thought of God and of death.
Tanguy had not lost the fervour which had long made
him wish to wear the serge habit of his holy and
learned companions in the Abbey of L^hon. But it
must be owned that Halgan's life^ spent as it had been
in warfare with corsairs, in trading at sea, and often on

An Apparition,

185

distant shores, far away from priest or church, with
but fleeting visits to his native Brittany, had tended to
make him with his ardent passion for adventure, if not
completely forgetful of his religion, at least negligent
in its practice. At this solemn hour when about to
appear before the Supreme Judge of all men, he was
afraid because he had thought so little of God, and he
won'^sred anxiously if he could indeed find mercy from
Him Whom he had so long forgotten. His feelings
were still keen notwithstanding his age, his imagination
was active, and he soon fell into the depths of despair.
The old Captain was, so to speak, completely scared by
the thought of eternity. Hitherto he had held his
head high with a proud conviction that no better man
than himself could be lound; but now, looking back
on long years spent in iieglect of most important
duties, he smote on his bieust and in accents of terror
murmured, '* Judgment ! Judgment I"

He did not think of the tortures which the savages
would inflict upon him, he did not fear the suffering
that their barbarity might cause, but he asked himself
how he should give an account to the Lord for his past
years. Forgetfulness, negligences, and faults, assumed
in his eyes the proportion of desperate crimes, and the
word which alarmed him returned to his lips with a cry
of terror.

Tanguy knelt down, he took the Captain's hands in
his, and in tones of deep tenderness, and firm convic-
tion, said, "You are right, father, we must indeed
tremble in the presence of eternal justice, for we are all

180

John Canada.

i?i

sinners in God's sight. But the goodness of God is
infinite, His mercy is oyer us, the Blood of Jesus is our
protection, and our death united to His Passion will be
accepted by God in reparation for our sins. Weep for
them, but belieye ; repent of them, but do not cease to
hope. If we had a priest to assist us we would bow
our heads before him, and beg him to restore the inno-
cence of our souls. We are alone, but Jesus, the
Eternal Priest stretches forth over us His bleeding
hands. Oh ! father I father ! let us pray I God is listen-
ing to us, let us pray ! the angels are around us ; let us
pray, for death is at hand ! A most consoling thought
occurs to me at this moment. You have heard what
Bindweed has said ; you know that if I had only spoken
the word, I should have been set at liberty. You
would have enjoyed the same privilege if you had
consented to live as the Indians do, accepting their
laws and their religion. We shall be martyrs rathei
than prisoners, for apostasy would save our lives.*'

'*You are right, Tanguy,*' said Halgan; "thanks,
thanks, my friend, my son I we will die bravely, like
men, and like Christians, and God in his mercy will
reunite us to our lost one.'*

The remembrance of Blanche recalled Tanguy's child
to his mind. Where was he? What would become of
him ? Herv^, the tender child, was the only link that still
bound Tanguy to earth. Tanguy wept when he thought
of him ; but with an effort collected all the powers of
his soul and commended him to God; the two men
then knelt down in the cabin and both prayed aloud.

An Apparition.

187

ud is
is our
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ep for
ase to
dbow
1 inno-
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9eding
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let us
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ome of
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loud.

The Marquis repeated the Psalms oi DaTid, those
marvellous songs of sorrow and repentance. The
sufferers found in these words the expression of their
own feelings and the tears of the Royal Prophet brought
consolation to their hearts.

The young Indians who heard them through the wall
of trees and bison-skins, said to one another, "The Pale-
faces are repeating their death-song."

While Halgan and Tanguy were endeavouring to
turn their last thoughts to heaven, a arrange scene was
passing in the most desert part of the island beneath
the weird light of the moon. A deep bay lay between
two sandy promontories. The branches of the great
trees hung over it like a moving curtain ; the blu9
water sparkled beneath the cascade of penetrating light,
and the islands of varied aspect, low or lofty, covered
with green sward or crowned with giant vegetation,
formed a picture whose grace and harmony surpassed de-
scription. A bark canoe soon appeared on this enchanted
lake. It was steered with the greatest caution, the
paddles worked noiselessly, and no word was exchanged
between the youth who wielded them and a strange
being who stood beside him, clothed in Indian fashion,
with long hair which shone in the moonlight like spun
silver, while a heavy black shapeless mass lay at her
feet.

** The place is good," said the young girl. " This is
not the first time that Nonpareille has found her way
among these islands, which are as like one another as
each mesh in a fishing net is to the next. The Hurons

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188

John Canada.

are cunning dogs, but the children of the Algonquius
are keen-eyed eagles/'

The Indian girl sprang on shore without a sound.
The youth did likewise, then the heavy mass moved in
its turn, and followed the young girl who gently
caressed a large dark head. Nonpareille leaned on the
youth's shoulder.

" Patira," she said, ** you are painted with the war
colours of the Hurons, and no one will ever find out that
you are a Pale-face. If you lived in the country of
the Algonquins, our brothers would surname you the
Valiant Heart. But whatever be the name you bear, you
continue devoted to those you love. No one has a right
to hinder you from shedding your blood for your friends.
Only listen to the words of a Red Child who knows the
wiles of the Hurons. Take care ! the prisoners must
be brought back here, and no useless risks must be run.
Let me act first and get into the village. The Hurons
are asleep, I shall be able to examine their cabins at
leisure. If the Hurons see me, they will take me for a
spirit, and will do me no harm. Let my young brother
be at ease, Mingo will not leave me."

The little Indian maiden patted the immense bear
which rubbed itself against her with an air of intelli-
gence and submission.

*' I am afraid I I am afraid for you T said Patira, in
a voice of emotion.

*'My young brother cannot help me in the visit of
observation I am going to try to make. When I want
him I will come and seek him.*'

I ■

An Apparition.

189

Patira hesitated, but Nonpareille*3 urgency gained
the victory over his impatience, and he consented to
await her return in the bay.

The young girl left the trees beneath whose shadei
Patira and the canoe were shrouded. She walked on
lightly, followed by the bear Mingo, which sniffed the
air and seemed to seek some track to follow.

It was not long before Nonpareille perceived the
first huts of the Indian village. She walked on beneath
the shadow cast by the trees, and with a rapid glance
studied the situation. When she arrived at the place
prepared for the dances and the tortures, she could not
but shudder to see at one end a stake painted red,
which seemed to be trickling with blood. A little
further on, the great hut with its rude idols met her
view.

" The prison cannot be far away from the Council
Hut," thought Nonpareille.

She went on with yet greater caution, then suddenly
stood still ; the sound of two voices reached her ear.
With one hand laid on Mingo's head as if to impose
silence, she listened, leaning forward, anxious and
breathless. Her heart was beating so hard that for a
moment she could not distinguish the accents which
were borne upon the night breeze. But when she had
recovered herself, she recognised the prayers which she
had learned from Father Flavian, and joining her hands
with an expression of infinite gratitude, she blessed
God that those whom she had thought lost were yet
alive.

I jj

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190

c/oAn Canada.

Hastening on her way with the lightness of a bird,
she went round the cabin in which Tanguy and Halgan
were devoting their last hours to prayer. But when
she drew near the door, she peroeiyed the two Indians
placed in charge of the prisoners. What could be
done ? Must she give up the idea of reaching them P
or go back to Patira and claim his aid ? But it would
be impossible for Patira to overcome the guards before
they could arouse the whole village, and the only
result would be a double number of victims.

Nonpareille's knowledge of the superstitious nature
of the Indians, gave her still a last hope. She thought
that her strange hair, the airy lightness of her form and
the apparition of the colossal Mingo might strike terror
it least for a moment. Into the Indian sentinels. If
only she could gain time to cut the bonds of the
captives and drag them out of the cabin, she deemed
success to be certain. An hour of night was still
before her, if the captives could reach the main stream
of the St. Lawrence by the first dawn of the morning
they would be saved, for the Hurons in their consterna-
tion at the boldness of the escape would hesitate to
pursue them.

Nonpareille resolved on a course of simple daring.
With one hand laid on Mingo's head while the other
grasped the handle of a dagger, the silver-haired maiden
left the dark shade in which she had been concealed,
and stood forth in the full light.

The moonbeams wrapped her in a gentle radiance.
Her long, plain Indian dress added to her height, and it

An Apparition.

191

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le only

\ nature
bbougbt
)rmand
e terror
els. If

of tbe
deemed
as still

stream
Qoming
istema-
)itate to

daring,
le other

maiden
Qcealed,

idianoe.

t, and it

would be impossible to give an idea of her strange
beauty as she stood, proud and self- possessed, before the
guardians of Halgan and Tanguy, wiapped in her flow-
ing hair.

The unexpected apparition produced great agitation
in the minds of the young men, and this agitation was
increased by the sight of the giant bear at the girl's
side, which shook its great head with a monotonous
movement as if menacing them with destruction.

There was a belief in the tribe, founded on the words
of some ancient chief, that certain four-footed patriarchs
of the forest were under the protection of the spirits,
and must on no accc/it.-, >, be put to death. To hunt them
was a crime erid to shed their blood would be to bring
overwhelming misfortunes on the tribe. It had often
been said in the island, that the immense bear lately
slain by the hunters, belonged to the privileged race
which ought to have been untouched by fire or steel,
and which was believed to have the marvellous power
of returning to life, and taking cruel vengeance on the
imprudent hunters. The yoimg warriors were well
aware that their fallen foe had been hidden in a cavern
and that the old wizard kept guard over it, and yet
they were at once convinced that Mingo was the same
bear restored to life, and that the strange, bright-
haired being at his side was the presiding spirit of the
chase, and was gazing at them with eyes of anger.

The two Indians therefore suddenly drew back from
the presence of Mingo and Nonpareille.

Leaning against the side of the cabin, they were for the

W'<-

•I '

192

t/bAw Canada.

■l\^

first time in their lives, afraid. The silver-haired maiden
made a sign and Mingo rose up and stretched out his
great paws towards the guardians of the captives. They
fell on their knees and howed their foreheads to the
ground; Mingo laid a paw on one of the trembling
forms, while Nor.pareille struck the other with her
foot.

Within the cabin the two captives continued to recite
their death-psalms. They had lost all hope of regain-
ing their freedom ; their hearts were far above this
earth and when Nonpareille raised the back door of the
cabin, they did not hear her light foot-fall.

She laid her hand on Tanguy's arm and said in her
musical voice : " Nonpareille and Patira have watched.
The guards are asleep. Come ! "

With a steady hand she cut the cords which bound
the captives* arms and legs, laid her finger on her lips
to impose silence, and then, with the captives, gained the
threshold of the hut.

The two sentinels lay still as death, with their faces
on the ground. Nonpareille drew her hand through
Mingo's long fur and he released the trembling Indian,
and followed her and the rescued prisoners to the
shelter of the oaks and maples.

No word was spoken by any one of the three. Non-
pareille led the way, listening attentively to every soimd,
and wondering whether the stratagem which had so
far succeeded, might not yet be baffled by the skill of
less credulous Indians. Tanguy and Halgan slowly
proceeded ^ the midst of the most thickly-wooded

An Appantion,

193

maiden
out his
. They
to the
inbling
th her

bo recite
regain-
>ve this
r of the

d in her
v^atched.

h bound
her lips
ined the

nr faces

through

Indian,

to the

Non-
sound,
had so

1 skill of
slowly

Iwooded

portion of the island. The moonlight did not perml
them to estimute the obstacles before them. With
outstretched arms they groped their way amidst the
trunks of immense trees and clumps of bush<^8 till at last
they gained an open space. Nonpareille no longer
dared to do as she had done when alone with Mingo.
The little Indian maiden was aware of the impression
which her appearance had caused, but she knew that
the superstitious dread thus awakened would vanish as
soon as it was discovered that she had made her way to
the island in order to rescue the prisoners.

They went on however, and were now approaching
the bay in which Patira awaited the arrival of his com-
panion ; in another quarter of an hour, miraculous as
it appeared, the captives might feel certain of their
safety; but at this moment a prolonged yell was heard,
a yell expressing rage and menacing vengeance, and
Nonpareille could not mistake its import. The escape
of the prisoners was known in the village.

As soon as the sentinels had heard the bear depart,
supposing the silver-haired apparition to have gone
with him, they slowly raised themselves, and looked
round on every side with mingled curiosity and fear.
When they saw that they were alone, their courage
revived, and instinctively they hastened to raise the mat
which formed the door of the hut.

The hut was empty.

In one moment they knew that they had been duped
by a crafty scheme whose object was the rescue of the
naptives. The vision of the Silver-haired Maiden and

''■m BBU

1 1,

III ■

if.

■ i

194

John Canada.

[■3

the apparition of the giant Mingo, whom they had taken
for the ancient monarch of the forest restored to life, now
seemed to them a magical illusion ; the evil spirit had
blinded them to baffle their vigilance, and the strange
silver-haired form T7hich had stood forth in the moon-
shine, was dovubtless a phantom evoked by the Pale-faces,
who were well skilled in the sorcerer's art.

Then, with speed quickened by resentment for the
great wrong done them and by the desire to repair it,
the Indians raised their voices and made known the
escape of the prisoners, attributing this catastrophe to
the strange adventure which had occurred.

In one moment all the able-bodied men were astir.

Wild Bindweed rushed out, her grief had kept her
awake, and she had not even laid aside her garments.
Her countenance betrayed deep sorrow ; she was deadly
pale, and turning to the elder of the two young men,
she hastily said : " Why does my brother set the cruel
hunters on the track of the wounded deer ? The
Daughter of the Forests hoped that the Golden Lizard
meant to build her a wigwam. But how can Wild
Bindweed consent to ur.ite her life to the Lizard's if
she sees him no longer harmless, but ready to dart
forth death- giving poison ?"

The Indian looked hard at the young girl by the
uncertain light of the torches which moved to and fro
around them. They were going to hunt down these
men as the wild deer is hunted.

" The young girPs voice," said the Golden Lizard, " is
Bweet as the bird's song. She does not consider that the

S i

An Apparition.

195

taken
;, now
It had
range
moon-
-faces,

or the
pair it,
rn the
)phe to

>e astir.
3pt her
rments.
; deadly
ig men,

e cruel
1? The

Lizard
In Wild

lard's if

to dart

by the

land fro

^n these

lard, " is
Ithat the

flight of the captives is a disgrace to the young warriors.
Tho spirits of the night have troubled the sight of
the warriors. The oldest of the captives is a medicine
man, whose knowledge would make Tabouka blush.
He cast a spell over the eyes of the Golden Lizard,
who saw through the darkness a magical being wrapped
in a veil of hair whiter than the moss on the oak trees,
and more dazzling than the snow of winter. The
Sachems would have the right to banish the Lizard for
ever from the rank of the warriors, and to refuse him a
place in the Hut of Council, if he did not endeavour to
repair his involuntary fault. Wild Bindweed knows
the heart of the Indian as the mother knows the smile
of her child. She would not unite her life to that of a
disgraced Huron, or cross the threshold of a coward's
cabin. The Golden Lizard must find the prisoners
unless he would be considered as an old woman."

A. shudder passed through the girl's frame. She
forgot what she had taken as scorn from Tanguy, and
only remembered the words of benediction which he
had spoken to her. The idea of his death seemed to
her so terrible, that she would rather have fallen
beneath the daggers of her fellow-countrymen than
have seen him again the Hurons' captive.

" The Lizard is not guilty," she said ; " the Sachems
are wise, they will make no accusation against him who
has asked to build me a cabin. But how can Wild
Bindweed believe that her husband will be kind and
indulgent to her, if he refuses her the first favour she
asks P "

§:

If;;'

196

John Canada.

\ f

"And this favour asked by the Flower of the
Forests ?"

" Is the deliverance of the Pale-faces."
" Wild Bindweed is under the influence of a malevo-
lent spirit/' said the Golden Lizard, in a harsh voice.
" Her tongue is forked like that of the viper. Her
words are of one colour, and her thoughts of another
The young warrior will do his duty."

" His duty is to bring back the captives ?'*
" And to bind them to-morrow to the stake."
Wild Bindweed uttered a cry of anguish, stretched
out her arms towards the Golden Lizard, and exclaimed,
as she turned away from him, " Never will I cross the
threshold of your wigwam."

The Golden Lizard watched the maiden depart, then
ran from hut to hut calling the chiefs, and imploring
them to aid him in recapturing the prisoners.

In a short time a numerous band of Indians was
gathered in the open space. Most of them held resin
torches in their hands, and by Eagle's Plume's order
dispersed in different directions, making for the shore
in order to render it impossible for the prisoners to leave
the island. The Indians were somewhat reassured on
this matter, because Tanguy and Halgan were without
a vessel, while the Hurons could at once cover the
lake with a numerous fleet.

A hundred torches were soon waving amongst the
branches of the fftrest trees. The Indians brandished
them about with loud, sharp cries of death and vengeance,
but too well understood by the captives as they fled
through the deep gloom of the forest.

An Appariiwn.

Id7

Tanguy, Halgan, and the Silver-haired Maiden
hastened onward towards the Delta of the Thousand
Isles. When they reached the place where Patira was
waiting for them with the canoe, they had hoped and
even felt certain that they would escape from their
enemies. They did not yet think that the hatred of the
Hurons would change the night into a false day.

Nonpareille and Mingo, who in the first place had
protected the escape of Tanguy and his companion by
observing From a distance what went on in the village,
had now taken the lead. The young girl was anxious
to warn Patira ; she could not again count upon success
until the two Frenchmen were actually in the canoe.
Alas! the night which had aided her work of self-
devotion soon gave place to a ruddy glow of light.
Either by accident or purposely, an Indian with his
torch set fire to a grove of trees, and this fire soon spread
widely, so that the river and the shore were lighted up
by the glare of the conflagration.

Halgan and Tanguy ran at full speed, breathless and
exhausted as they were \ they knew that their safety
depended on their speed, and they went like the wind,
pursued by the flames which were driving them towards
the river.

While his friends were surrounded by double danger,
Patira trembled at the thought that his patient toil and
Nonpareille's self-devotion were in vain. He called
them in heart-rending tones, at the risk of betraying
his hiding-place. Notwithstanding all his confidence in
the marvellous instinct of the Siver-haired Maiden by

tv.%

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198

John Canada,

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^^■t' '

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whose aid he had been able to follow the traces of the
Captain and the Marquis of Coetquen, he thought it
impossible to take too many precautions on behalf of
those whom he was endeavouring to rescue. Three
times his voice was lost amid the hissing of the fire and
the shouts of the pursuing Hiirons, but at last Tanguj
answered his call and another moment saw him in the
canoe which Patira had just unmoored.

Halgan took up the Silver-haired Maiden as if she
were but a babe and placed her in the canoe, and then
got in himself while the bear heavily lay down at the
feet of his young mistress.

" The oars ! give me the oars ! " said Halgan.

Patira gave them to the Captain, who wielded them
with an energy quickened by the imminent danger, and
by a few strokes left the shore at some distance.

When Patira ventured to look back he saw a troop of
Indians rushing from the centre of the island towards
the shore. The Huron s who first saw the canoe uttered
cries of rage and astonishment ; some of them cast them-
selves into the water to swim after it and arrest its
course, but the greater number were called back by
the voice of Eagle's Plume, who thought the attempt of
the Golden Lizard and his followers rash and unwise.
A few words from their chief sufficed to calm the
violence of the Hurons' anger, and the silver-haired
Maiden who stood erect in the middle of the boat with
her eyes fixed on the shore while the Captain rowed
desperately on, soon guessed the means which the
Indians were about to employ.

An Apparition.

I9d

of the
ight it
lalf of
Three
ire and
'anguy
in the

if she
id then
L at the

id them
rer, and

;roop of

towards

uttered

them-

rest its

ack by

mpt of

unwise.

,1m the

haired

at with

rowed

ch the

A dozen Indians went to a group of ancient trees
whose trunks were hollow and afEorded shelter to their
canoes. Nonpareille knew that such hiding-places were
often used; she saw that they were about to be pursued,
and leaning towards the Captain, said in a low voice :
" Try to reach that island where you see a great black
rock ; we may perhaps find refuge in the cavern.'*

Just as she had spoken these words the first canoe left
the shore in pursuit of the unfortunate captives. It was
followed rapidly by another and then another, until a
little fleet maimed by armed Hurons was hastening in
the wake of the boat which bore Patira, Halgan,
Nonpareille and Tanguy.

Mingo navmg scented the Indians rose from his place
at the feet of his mistress, and with his two front paws
on the side of the boat, and his head turned towards the
enemy, uttered low, growling sounds, which bespoke his
readiness for battle. Eagle's Plume steered the fore-
most canoe, and under his direction the flotilla instead of
advancing in a straight line formed a crescent whose ex-
tremities were lengthened out so as effectually to prevent
Halgan from following Nonpareille's advice and reach-
ing the rock. It was evident that, notwithstanding the
speed of the canoe, the Hurons would sooner or later
surround it and impede its further progress*

M^'V

^:i\

200

John Vanaila.

.Sis ;,

■1

9-1 I

1^5 f

mi . :

1 i! I

CHAPTER XIV.

THK PURSUIT.

Fortunately the glare of light from the burning
grove soon faded completely away. Darkness would
have been an unspeakable boon to Halgan and his
companions. Skilfully as the Indians managed their
canoes, they could not have followed the little craft
through the labyrinth of the Thousand Isles, and, more-
over, the single canoe could easily make its way through
narrow straits and passages where the tv.elve pirogues
could not at once enter. It was far ahead of the others.
Halgan, incited by the peril of the hour, rowed with
desperate force, following the directions of Nonpareille
who knew the river in all its windings, and pointed out
the narrowest passages, and most difficult turns, in order
to bewilder in the midst of the network of waters the
twelve pursuing pirogues.

The Silver-haired Maiden had lost none of her cool-
ness and composure ; without considering that her white
hair and the conspicuous position she had chosen, would
make her a mark for the rage of the Indians, she stood
calm and unmoved, pointing out with one hand the
course to be followed, while with the other she leaned on
Patira*s shoulder.

Certainly there was a strange sight to be seen that
night on the St. Lawrence, from whose bosom rose the

The Pursuit,

201

Thousand Isles. The last glow of the fire was dying
away in the sky and on the water, and in the fading
light the canoe containing the fugitives was rapidly
gliding away like a bird ; Halgan bent to his oars and
nerved himself to withstand the fatigue which threatimc d
to paralyze his muscles ; Tanguy sat with his furclje id
leaning on his hands, thinking of Herv^ whom he would
probably never see again, of death which seemed to bo
swiftly approaching, and of Patira and N onpareille bound
to his fate by their self-devotion. His heart was rent
and his hands worked nervously, for he sufPered not
only from his sorrow but from his impotence to help.
Unskilled in rowing, he dreaded lest Halgun's powers
should give way, with none to take his place save Patira
and the little Indian maiden. They both understood
the danger and seemed to foresee the end of the unequal
struggle, yet calmness reigned on Patira's brow and on
the countenance of Nonpareille. Widely as the two
young creatures differed in race and in education, at
this terrible moment they felt that they were children
of the same great family. When Patira raised his eyes
to Nonpareille he entered into her thoughts as clearly
as if the Child of the Forest had opened her lips and
told him all that was passing in her mind. Mingo
meanwhile continued his low growling with his head
turned towards the Hurons.

They rowed vigorously and their plan of action
would have been crowned with speedy success if Non-
pareille's erratic course had not so greatly impeded their
pursuit.

J-

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202

JbAn Canoeiifi.

For a moment the young girl hoped that the Hurons
had completely lost the track of the canoe; for a moment
the darkness protected the flight of the captives. But
alas ! dawn came too soon, and with its first ray Patira
distinguished a boat in eager pursuit and rapidly gain-
ing upon them in a narrow passage. The idea of fight-
ing hand to hand for their lives occurred to the fugitives,
but five armed men were in the pursuing boat and
Patira and Nonpareille only had each a knife. At the
very moment, however, when they had made up their
minds against this measure, they were compelled to have
recourse to it.

The Indians perceiving that there was but one
man to be feared, determined to get rid of Halgan,
feeling sure that they would have no difficulty in
dealing with the two young people and Tanguy. If the
latter did not take his part in the management of the
canoe, his ignorance of the art must, they argued, be the
cause of his inaction. The canoe left to the guidance of
Patira and Nonpareille, would drift along, and a few
strokes of their oars would enable the Hurons to over-
take it and not only to re-capture Tanguy and Halgan,
but also to secure the strange Silver-haired Maiden and
her young companion.

Red-Head, who was keen in the pursuit, shot an arrow
in the direction of the canoe, and it passed so close to
the Silver-haired Maiden that the long veil which hung
around her was stirred as by the wind. She did not
tremble, but her hand pressed more closely on Patira's
shoulder. " If the Child of the Forest remains standing,"

Th4 Pursuit

203

he said gently, " she will serve as a mark for the arrows
of the Hurons."

" I know it, but I am protecting the rower/' was her
reply.

Alas ! her heroism could not defend him whom Red-
Head had chosen for his victim ; a second arrow pierced
one of the hands of the Captain and elic:t«d a cry of
pain. His oar fell into the river, and f-Ai^ther flight
would have been impossible if the Silver-haired
Maiden had not bent over the side of the canoe
and grasped it just as the current was about to carry it
away. The Captain pulled the arrow out of his hand ;
Patira took up the oars and the canoe continued its
desperate course. But in spite of the youth's courage,
his arms had not the vigour required for continued
rowing ; the increasing daylight redoubled the danger
of the fugitives, and while Patira exhausted himself in
the endless course through the labyrinth of islands.
Red- Head's boat gained upon them considerably, and
Halgan's canoe was now but a few oars' lengths in
advance of that of Red-Head.

Four Indians manned the boat with this chief, who
had taken an active part in the destruction of the House
of the Rapids ; the Golden Lizard, eager to repair the
error of the preceding night, was there with three others
well-known for their ferocity, and decorated with scalps
which bore witness to the barbarous exploits they had
already performed.

Patira, still wielding his oars, placed his great knife
in Tanguy's hands. Nonpareille grasped hers in her

204

John Catuida.

ii i:

I i

^1 '

I'i

delicate hand, and Halgan armed himself with the arrow
which had just transpierced his left hand for a
javelin.

A terrible cry burst from the lips of the Indians, and
Bed-Head stretching himself over the side of his canoe,
with his two hands seized the extremity of the boat
occupied by Tanguy, and using his strong hands as
grappling-irons drew it violently towards him, then
rose up and springing in with terrible agility threw
himself into the canoe of the fugitives, brandishing his
heavy tomahawk.

No one of the actors in this terrible drama lost his
self-possession. Tanguy, with his arm pluccd close to
his breast and his knife pointed forward, awaited the
Red-skin's attack ; but Nonpareille did not leave him
time to strike or to meet the Huron's advance ; she
pointed to the Red-skin, and turning to Mingo, ex-
claimed : ** Choke him, Mingo ! choke him ! "

The bear understood the command, rose on his hind
legs, and in a deadly embrace pressed the paralyzed
Huron, who fell backwards, crushed by the weight of his
enemy. Patira urged the boat forward, and Mingo and
Red-Head rolled together into the waves. In another
moment the bear reappeared on the surface alone.
Then, warming to the battle and excited by Nonpareille's
voice, he clung to the Indian's canoe, and before they
had recovered from their astonishment had laid hold of
another victim.

The surprise of the Indians soon gave place to over-
whelming rage. Two furious strokes of a tomahawk

The Pursuit,

205

he arrow
i for a

iaos, and
lis canoe,
the boat
hands as
im, then
ty threw
shing his

a lost his
1 close to
raited the
leave him
ince ; she
ingo, ex-

his hind
)aralyzod
rht of his
Lingo and
another
ICC alone,
pareille's
fore they
d hold of

to over-
^mahawk

inflicted two great wounds on Mingo, but the faithful
creature seemed aware that Nonparcille's safety de-
pended on his courage, and leaving the Golden Lizard
half-dead, he rushed upon the Indian who had wounded
him and crushed his arm in his terrible jaws. The
canoe became the scene of an unprecedented combat ; the
bear springing in amongst the Indians tore the breast
of one with his sharp claws, bit another severely,
and pushed back another with a blow from his monstrous
head. No one of the wounded Indians was capable of
continuing the pursiv't of the captives; Mingo's last
effort overturned the . nue, and of the five Indians who
manned it, three found a watery grave together with
Bed-Head.

While the combat lasted, Patira continued to row.
His strength was sensibly failing, but at this moment
the prisoners might deem themselves in safety, for no
other canoe was in sight.

" Let my brother gain the island above which the
rocks rise ! ** said Nonpareille.

Patira threw himself back and gave a fresh impulse
to the canoe. He had just left the narrow strait in
which Red- Head had pursued hira, and had now before
him a clear expanse of water on which the morning sun-
beams were playing, and opposite to which rose up blocks
of blackish stones. There, and there alone might it be
possible for the captives to find a refuge, for the islands
around them instead of being covered with trees,
presented nothing but brushwood and masses of reeds
or narrow strips of earth on which the grass encroaclied.

206

John Canada.

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But at tlie momont when the canoe entered this open
space, an infernal clamour arose from ten points at once,
and from every channel between the different islands
came forth a pirogue full of Indians. Just when
Tanguy's companions imagined they had thrown the
Hurons off the scent, they doubled the islands and pur-
sued the fugitives through the labyrinth, supposing
that the little Indian maiden who seemed to be
thoroughly acquainted with the resources of the country,
would lead them to the isle of caverns.

This time neither Patira nor Tanguy thought it
possible to resist the horde of enemies that rushed upon
them. A companion of their warfare however still re-
mained ; bleeding and wounded as Mingo was, he had
followed their boat, and climbed again into it as the
Indian flotilla arranged in crescent form, advanced
towards the Frenchmen. After having completely
closed them in behind, some of the bo'^'^s advanced in
front of them and narrowing the circle thus formed,
proceeded to surround them entirely.

Patira saw an expression of the deepest anguish pass
over Nonpareille's countenance, and said to her in those
tones which had once consoled Blanche of Coetquen in
her prison in the Round Tower : " The Child of the
Forest is the Child of God ; the Black Kobe who
baptized her, taught her that those who die in faith,
sacrificing their lives for others, become saints and
angels in heaven. Nonpareille will follow the Virgins
of the Lamb in the Paradise of delights."

" The Child of the Forest does not weep for herself,"
murmured the girl.

IM Pursuit

207

UB open
at once,
b islandu
)t wbeu
3wn the
md pur-
ipposing
1 to be
country,

DUgllt it

Led upon
still re-
ly he had
it as the
idvanoed
mpletely
meed in
formed,

lish pass
in those
:quen in
of the
De who
faith,
nts and
Virgins

lerself,"

The Indinns dreir nearer and nearer ; in another
moment the oanoe would be at their mercy. Tanguy
andHalgan stood up, crossed their arms on th^ir breasts,
and waited. Escape from their enemies was hopeless
and therefore to use their weapons seemed useless
murder. God, Who permitted them to defend their
Uves when they quitted the Great Island, seemed now
to have chosen them as martyrs.

The Indians easily boarded the little boat. Tanguy,
Halgan, and Patira were fettered cruelly, and the Silver-
haired Maiden ofE^tred her hands to be bound. The
strange beauty of the young girl, her white hair and
het inspired air, made the Indians look upon her with
superstitious respecc. They did not venture to bruise
the delicate hands which she extended towards them
with fetters. Her courage excited their admiration, and
they hoped *o attach to their own tribe this strange
heing who seemed of a nature different from and superior
to that of other mortals.

When Nonpareille saw that it was in vain for her to
seek to share the fate of the other captives, she sat
down at the bottom of the boat where the)' had been
cast. Slowly and gently she bathed a wound which
Patira had received in his temple, and endeavoured to
loosen Tanguy's bonds ; the Indians, whose hearts
were full of savage joy, did not venture to hinder the
Silver-haired Maiden in her work of consolation and
charity.

The prisoners were praying in a low voice. Day had
fully come ; birds were singing and moving about among

III

.ii>

iff'' ^*

208

John Canada.

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the branches, the fleet doer r&a through the brushwood,
Nature had risen in all its varied charms from the
refreshing influence of night. The canoes were glidinj>
noiselessly on the river's bosom. The rowers rested
from the fatigues of the nocturnal pursuit. The Golden
Lizard, who had succeeded in swimming till he reached
a canoe, was relating to Eagle's Plume the details of
the combat. Slowly though the pirogues proceeded
over the brilliant surface of the river, which with its
islets was a very Venice of verdure, they by-and-by
came within view of the Great Island.

At the utmost point of a sandy promontory stood
Wild Bindweed in an attitude of despair. All niglit
she had remained on this spot, praying tiiat the Hurotis
might lose all traces of those whom she had en-
deavoured to save.

Her pride had been deeply wounded, but in the end
Wild Bindweed had become resigned. Her soul wud
agitated by feelings which she could not have defined ,*
though she did not well understand Tanguy's reasons for
refusing to owe his liberty to her, she felt that he was
right. Her heart divined more than her intellect could
comprehend. Her humiliation melted into a deep regret
which overpowered her ignorant soul. Tanguy's re*
fusal made him appear greater in her eyes. At this
moment she envied but one being on earth, and that
being was the Silver-haired Maiden who had the courage
and skill to attempt a rescue which seemed almost im-
possible.

She was jealous of Nonpareille, the weak, frail

The Pursuit,

209

irusliwocd,

from the

Die gliding

^ers rested

[he Golden

lie reached

details of

proceeded

3I1 witli its

by-and-by

atory stood

All night

the Hurons

bad

en-

in the end
er soul was
,ve defined,'
reasons for
;bat be was
lellect could
Ideep regret
jinguy's re*
At this
1, and that
the courage
I almost im-

reak, frail

creature who had sought to save her friends. She
despised b,nd hated herself for having in some degree
laid down conditions to Tanguy of Coetquen. Had the
little Indian maid such calculations? She had just
risked her life for a bare chance of success ; she had
failed, but her heart and her countenance were still calm,
and her sadness added a fresh charm to her childish
beauty.

"Wild Bindweed said to herself, " If that child could
have a little affection for me, I would sacrifice my life
for her."

At last the canoes came to the shore.

Eagle's Flume's was the first to be moored to the
trunk of a tree. The prisoners who were calm, but pale
from fatigue and exhaustion, were led back to the hut
from which they had escaped. The sentinels instead of
remaining outside now came in with them.

The tidings of the recapture of the French prisoners
were received with loud cries of joy by the old men,
women, and children, who had been left in the camp.
The spectacle which they had feared to lose would after
all, they believed, be given to them ; attributing the
flight of their captives to fear of torture, they over-
whelmed them with reproaches. The decrepit squaws
were particularly vehement in their persecution of the
unhappy men. They excited the anger of the young
warriors and told the children tales of the sufferings
which had formerly been inflicted on Frenchmen
taken prisoners by the Hurons on the shores of Lake
Ontario. The young men, roused to the utmost

i!ll

I?"

hL'

v^-n

if)

210

e/oAn Canada.

by these pitiless termagants, sharpened stakes, tried
the points of their arrows, twisted ropes of fibre, and
poured forth insults on those who were about to be
massacred.

The Golden Lizard fixed fresh stakes in the ground,
for it seemed certain that Fatira and Nonpareille would
meet a fate similar to that of Tanguy and Halgan.
After having planted the stakes in enormous holes, he
painted them red ; these preliminary preparations being
concluded, the warriors returned to their wigwams and
restored their strength by partaking of boiled sagamitz
and venison, together with a calabash of maple wine
and a few mouthfuk of fire-water ; the greater number
of them, in order to give more splendour to the
ceremon^'^ which was to take place at mid- day, painted
their faces and bodies with the colours reserved for
national festivals.

Eagle's Plume chose a style of decoration calculated
to distinguish him from all the other members of his
tribe. He had found means of making his countenance
appear threefold. Looking at him full face his thin
nose seemed to end in a shapeless knot. One side of
his face was painted black and the other red, and his
eyebrows were of different shades ; never had a more
fearful countenance been offered to human view, and
Eagle's Plume with his hair knotted into a tuft and
adorned by a feather from the monarch of birds, might
well pass as the most magnificent specimen of his tribe.
A patient hand had drawn on his breast with a fish-bone,
pictures representing the history of his life, and the

The Pursuit.

211

, tried
re, and
r to be

ground,
i would
lalgan.
oles, he
18 being
ims and
agamitz
)le wine
number
to tbe
painted
rved for

Iculated

rs of bis

atenance

lis thin

side of
and his

a more
lew, and
tuft and

, might
his tribe,
ish-bone,

and the

battles in which he had taken part. The burned bark
of a trCiO had given to the lines of the drawing an intense
colour which told well against the coppery tint of his
skin. In this manner he bore about him his patent of
nobility among the other warriors, each one of whom
followed his own fancy or the traditions of his race in
contributing his share to the pomp of the savage
spectacle.

The women changed their simple cotton tunics for
embroidered garments ; they put row after row of
chains about their necks; their arms were encircled with
bracelets, their flowing hair was confined by bands or
by wreaths of flowers. Even ♦he oldest among them
were not proof against the general impulse, and it
would have been hard to find anything more hideous
than the group of wrinkled, tanned, aged creatures who
stood crying and gesticulating in the midst of the open
space. The children silently watched the preparations
for the torture or gathered up branches to feed the
flames.

The spectacle was perhaps rendered even more
imposing by the dazzling beauty of the weather, the
fresh verdure of the trees, the blue girdle of water
around the Great Island, and the charming perspec-
tive formed by islands covered with flowers and grass,
or rocky and reed-grown, melting away into the misty
distance.

When the chiefs had finished painting themselves in
the colours suitable to a festival, Eagle's Plume with
equal pride and joy gave orders that the victims should

212

John Canada.

' ^.

B-1 i

: '.

tii

M?'

iiii'i^

III

■' ,

be sent for. Shut up in the hut whence they had
escaped, they had now lost all hope and were making
up their minds to death. Their sacrifice had really
been accomplished the night before, but an additional
pain was added to it by the thought that Patira would
lose his life on account of his generous efPorts on their
behalf. Tanguy's heart would not have been rent as it
was with anguish if he had known that he was leaving
Herve under Patira's fostering care. Patira could
have taken Herve back to France when the course
of events there made his return possible. He would
have placed him among such friends as might have
survived the storm of revolution. Some distant mem-
ber of the Ooetquen family or of that of the Chateau-
briands might still be alive, perchance even one or two
of the monks of L6hon might have escaped the general
massacre, and return to wander amidst the ruins of the
Abbey ; Patira would confide to them the child who
had grown up within the walls of the holy house, and
the learned old men would train him up to be a brave
nobleman, capable of maintaining with his sword the
rights of his race and the privileges of the throne, or
else a devoted priest at God's altar, who would con-
stantly implore pardon from heaven for the murderers
of their brethren.

Patira seemed to read what was passing in the soul

of the Marquis. "My lord," said he, "God himself

wp/tchep. over your child. I have told you that he was

-I - "^t V , but I have not had time to relate to you all

.<ok place after your flight. I would not have

The Pursuit,

213

you die with a sorrow on your heart. Everything
that could possibly be done has been done "

" I know it, I know it," said Ooetquen, " but speak,
Patira, speak to me of my boy, of the dear child whom
I shall never see again."

" You never heard how we succeeded in making ovr
escape. We fled into the trees like birds. Beneath
us lay the wounded and the dead ; the dead were
buried and the wounded were numbered. Herv^ was
silent in our arms, he seemed to understand the dread-
ful nature of our position. At last the Hurons went
away through the forest, and we were able to descend
from our airy hiding-place. I wished to take Nonpa-
reille away towards the town, but she refused to accom-
pany me, and said gravely, * Save the child of the Pale-
face ; Nonpareille is of the race of the Abenaquis,
faithful to the God of Whom the Black Robe has taught
her, and faithful to her love for the French ; while
my young brother goes down to Montreal to entrust
the child to George Malo, the Daughter of the Forests
will seek the trace of the Hurons' mocassins.' ' Alone ! *
I exclaimed. * Alone,* answered Nonpareille ; * the Black
Robe has told me that God sends His angels to take
care of His innocent children.' ' The Child of the Forests
thinks then that she can rejoin the Iroquois and
their captives ?' * Yes,' she replied ; ' as soon as she has
found the trace, she will wait till my brother puts the
child in a place of safety and then we will together try
to save the Pale-faces.' I took Herv^ in my arms
and was about to go away, when there was a movement

T3i

214

John Canada.

ill,

r .

!.i

*'f

iiiL

ih 1

;■!

among the reeds on the shore and we saw the Black Bison
rise from among them. He was covered with blood
and with mud, but his countenance had the expression
of calm courage which you know so well. Nonpareille
uttered a cry of joy on seeing him. He had escaped
death by casting himself into the St. Lawrence at the
same time as Toyo and Tambou did. Nonpareille and
Black Bison held a long conversation in the Algonquin
language, then Black Bison said to me, * The Fawn
• will go to the city and give the child into George Halo's
care ; I will wait near the ruined hut for you, and will
put you on the path followed by the Silver-haired
Maiden.' I ran to Montreal without resting by the
way and fell down half dead with fatigue when I
reached George Malo's house. I will not attempt to
tell you of his despair when he heard of the twofold
attack on the Great Hut and the House of the Rapids.
He solemnly promised me that he would take care of
Herve, and I said to him as we parted, * Here as in
Brittany, I owe my blood to the Coetquens. If I fall
in fulfilling a sacred duty, you will desire the mate of
Captain Halgan's ship, the Lady of GaiJ, to bring
Herve of Coetquen back to France The young man
has a true heart, he will devote himself to the grandson
of his captain.' * Be at ease, Patira,' answered George
Malo, * those who fight shall be supported, and those
who die, avenged ! ' I took some food and set off on my
way back to the House of the Rapids ; my heart was
at ease about Herve, and so I could think of your
rescue alone. Black Bison was waiting for me near the

TJie Pursuit.

215

k Bison
1 blood
)ressiou
pareille
escaped
e at the
ille and
^onquin
3 Fawn
) Halo's
md will
r-haired
by the
when I
;empt to
twofold
Rapids,
care of
)re as in
If I fall
mate of
D bring
ing man
randson
George
id those
Ef on my
)art was
of your
near the

shattered door. We went together beneath the covert
of the forest, and the Indian soon discovered traces of
the passage of Nonpareille as she had taken care to
break branches away and pluck up moss along her path.
Black Bison and I walked faster than Nonpareille, and
before long we came up to her.

" She put her little hand into the Indian's hand, and
said to him in French, * The Chief will let the children
seek for traces of the Hurons and the Pale-faces; he, for
his part, will do what his great heart may tell him.'

" The Chief pressed the hand of the Silver-haired
Maiden, and answered, 'Black Bison will act as
becomes a Chief and a Christian.'

" * Come,* said Nonpareille to me.

" Black Bison left us, and turned back towards the
devastated dwellings, and we went into the shades of
the forest.

" George Malo had given me some provisions; we re-
freshed ourselves, and for several days continued our
way through the forest. 1 was full of admiration for
Nonpareille's skill, sagacity, and quick certainty of
vision. She never wandered from the track, the coral
beads dropped by you, the trampled grass, the torn
moss, the ashes of the burnt-out fires, all served her as
a clue. When we drew near to the spot where the St.
Lawrence widens and takes the aspect of an immense
lake, she had more difficulty in finding any vestiges of
your passage. We spent half a day in seeking for the
place where the savages had <^mbarked. But I was
fortunate enough to discover the last beads of your

^f^^

216

John Canada.

■ ( !

■ (-1

\ 1

Rosary beside a tuft of reeds. Nonpareille at oiice
guessed that the Hurons had taken you to one of the
islands, but how were we to know which was your
prison ? We had no boat with which to explore the
river and continue our search. But Nonpareille did
not despair of finding one. There were giant ^rees on
the bank, and she told me to climb into the branches of
those she supposed to be hollow, addiog, that most
likely at least one canoe was hidden in one of the old
trunks. She was quite right ; I soon discovered a bark
canoe. We drew it forth from the trunk of the
half-dead maple-tree, put it into the water, and both
began to look for you. But, alas ! we had no mocassin
prints or coral beads to guide us. Water, water, every-
where I water which bore no foot-mark, and soon closed
in the wake of the boat.

" ' The smoke of their camp will make the Hurons
known,' said Nonpareille, * let us look still.'

** We explored a great number of islands in vain. It
was easy to see that no human foot had lately trodden
their soil. We were beginning to wonder whether we
had not been mistaken in all our conjectures, when
one evening the shining of a fire showed us that the
largest of the islands was inhabited. You know the
rest ; Nonpareille landed on the island, made her way
into the village, and heard you praying aloud. Her un-
expected appearance, and the sight of Mingo cast trouble
into the hearts of the young savages who had been
placed to guard you, and the Silver-haired Maiden
brought you back to the canoe where I was waiting for

-■'U-i .

St 5:1

;!i

V. '■

i'i*;

T^e Pursuit.

217

you. My lord, we have done all that was within out
small powers ; now that I am ahout to die, say that
you are pleased with me. '

" It is not within human power to reward devotion like
yours, Patira ; but God, on Whom we call in our last
hour — God, Who reads the depths of our hearts, is able
to repay you for your life of sacrifice."

"Thanks, my lord," answered Patira; "George Malo
will never forsake Herv^. The hours are passing by —
God knows what these miscreants of Hurons are pre-
paring for us." Patira knelt down in a comer of the
hut and began to pray fervently. Halgan and Coetquen
were rapt in thoughts of eternity. Nonpareille was
also kneeling, her hands were crossed upon her breast,
and she looked like one completely separate from all
things of earth. From time to time the loud voices of
the squaws or the joyiul cries of the children reached
the ears of the captives, and made them aware that the
preparations for their torture were going on, and they
collected all their moral and physical powers in order
to sustain the terrible suffering before them.

By-and-by a chorus of dreadful sounds arose outside
the hut in which they were confined ; it seemed as
if they were surrounded by a thousand fiends ; and
almost at the same moment the Golden Lizard and his
companion stationed themselves one at each side of the
door, while Eagle's Plume entered the hut.

"The Pale-faces are brave," he said, addressing
himself to Halgan and Tanguy, " and the Red Children
will presently applaud their courage."

218

John Canada.

•■;i>v

;i \

1 .i: ■ j;

I:'' I

.-■ f

V '

\i .1.
I' .

The Captain, Tanguy, and Potira embraced each
other warmly, and then all stood in a line with heads
erect.

" We are ready," said Halgan.

In obedience to a sign from Eagle's Plume, the
Golden Lizard bound the prisoners' limbs with branches
of the vine, so as to allow them the power of moving ; he
held the end of the captain's bond in his h mds, two other
Hurons taking hold of Patira's and Tanguy*s fetters.
In another moment the captives had left the hut and
were face to face with the assembled population. A
savage joy was depicted on every countenance, and
Tanguy understood that no pity would be shown to
him or to his companions.

Nonpareille alone was not bound ; a strange feeling
of mingled respect and fear possessed the Indians vriih.
regard to the maiden. Her power of seeing in the
dark, her white flowing hair, her prophetic words, and
her striking appearance combined to excite their wonder.
They had shut her up in the cabin which had served as
a prison for her friends. But no decision had yet been
arrived at as to her fate. A being so unlike all others,
could not, they felt, be sentenced to torture. Nonpa-
reille at once perceived the influence which she exer-
cised over the Indians, and she refeolv( d to increase it
by an assumed air of confidence and in vincible courage.

" Let the Red Children give place to me ! " she said ;
" they well know that no one can touch the daughters
of the spirits who have come from the happy hunting-
grounds to visit them."

The Stake,

219

And putting the Indians aside with her little hands,
Nonpareille quietly left the hut, and walked towards
the open space where the stakes were prepared for the
torture of the captives.

CHAPTER XV.

THE STAKE.

The whole population of the village was gathered
together in the space allotted to warlike dances. The
women, wrapped in pieces of gaily-coloured stuff, with
their necks and arms adorned with hracelets and neck-
laces, waited impatiently for the captives. The oldest
among them, disfigured by their evil expression even
more than by their age, were rejoicing in the prospect of
the spectacle about to be provided for them. Some of
them held in their hands knives or stones. The warriors
preserved an unmoved composure. One creature only
was weeping. Leaning against a tree, with her head
thrown back, and her arms hanging down, Wild Bind-
weed awaited the dreadful moment when the torture
was to begin, and wondered if she could not do any-
thing to save the imhappy victims.

They were led forward, all three. The vine band
which fettered Halgan*s feet was fastened around one
of the stakes, his body was then secured, and finally
his neck, so that it was impossible for him to make the
least movement. Tanguy, on the contrary, was left
almost free, that is to say, he was attached to his

,*i;U>

^mm

220

John Canada,

stake by the extremity of a cord, and could move in a
circuit of some twenty paces.

As to Patira, instead of binding him closely the
Hurons loosed him. By a refinement of cruelty they
intended to vary the nature of the sufEering of the
three prisoners. Patira who was slight and supple, and
endowed with lemarkable agility, was to undergo the
tcrture of scourginr; by rods ; Halgan was to be a
mark for knives and tomahawks ; and Tangay to perish
by fire.

Nonpareille understood what was going to take place,
and coming towards Patira, said, ** When the signal for
the death-race is given to my brother, let him escape
with the speed of a wild roe ; if he can touch the stake
before he has been struck, perhaps his life may be
granted him."

But before Eagle's Plume gave orders for the torture
of the prisoners, he wished to have the proud enjoy-
ment of boasting of his exploits before the assembled
tribe. He advanced to the middle of the open space,
and with wonderful spirit and dramatic action related
the march of the Hurons through the forests, the
burning of the Great Hut, the attack on the House
of the Rapids, the capture of the prisoners, the home-
ward journey with them, the arrival in the island,
the es^ppe of the captives, the pursuit on the lake, and
the fiii:,l victory over the Pale-faces. Eagle's Plume
then proceeded to enumerate the combats in which he
had borne part, the scalps which he had taken from
his enemies, and the victories he had won. He con-

move in a

losely tbe
lelty they
ig of the
apple, and
idergo the
3 to be a
\f to perish

take plaoe,
signal for
lim escape
L the stake
e may be

he torture
►ud en joy-
assembled
pen space,
on related
irests, the
he House
he home-
le island,
lake, and
's Plume
which he
cen from
He con*

The Stake.

221

eluded by a eulogy of his own courage in battle and
wisdom in council.

His pride, instead of astonishing his hearers ap-
peared to them perfectly legitimate, and he was ap-
plauded by the whole tribe. After the chief had
performed a war-dance, the men, women, and children
ranged themselves in two lines. A rod was placed in
the hands of each individual, and Patira was led to
the utmost edge of the open square. Opposite to
him was a red post, and on either side of it were the
stakes to which Halgan and Tanguy were bound.

The Golden Lizard tore off the clothing which
covered Patira's shoulders, and the youth stood half-
naked, looking towards the goal of his course along
each side of which men and women with an expres-
sion of cruel joy on their faces, prepared to strike
him with the flexible rods they held in their hands.
A shudder passed through Patira's limbs, but he soon
recovered himself, raised his head, made the sign of
the cross, looked at Nonpareille who seemed still to
recommend him to make another effort to baffle the
cruel skill of the Hurons, and then stood awaiting the
signal for starting. It was given by Eagle's Plume,
and Patira instantly darted forward between the rows
of torturers, bounding on in so marvellous and unfore-
seen a manner that the raised wands only struck the
empty air, and he reached the goal before a drop of
blood had been drawn from his veins.

This proof of surprising agility excited the savages'
admiration to the greatest degree, and Patira was able to

222

John Canada.

remain at the post which he held fast, without enduring
the shame or the suffering of being again fettered.
Halgan's trial came next in order.
The chiefs of greatest renown for their skill in war-
like exercise placed themselves at a certain distance
from the stake to which he was bound, and then each of
them in turn threw his tomahawk so that the heavy
blade without touching the Captain's head made a deep
incision in the stake or entered into the trunk of a neigh-
bouring tree. Every time that the terrible weapon was
raised by a warrior's hand, Halgan wondered whether his
skull would not be cleft. In spite of himself, and not-
withstanding the courage which had stood so many a
trial, he felt that his eyelids quivered and that his
heart beat fast.

The dreadful trial of skill, in which the head of a
man was at stake, served to exhibit a marvellous exact-
ness of aim on the part of the Hurons, and called forth
great applause from the spectators. While it was going
on, Tanguy closed his eyes and prayed in a low voice,
while Patira, guarded by four strong Hurons, was
pondering whether he could not make some effort to
save the Captain. But what could the poor youth do ?
Although he was now unfettered, he knew that at the
slightest movement, he would have been seized and
bound; moreover, Nonpareille had explained to him
that the exercise of the tomahawk was intended to wear
out the prisoner's courage by incessantly recurring
terror but not to be itself fatal.

The instances were rare in which thie preparatory

Hi:

The Stake,

223

enduring
ered.

11 in war-
i distance
m. each of
he heavy
ide a deep
•f a neigh-
eapon was
hether his
t and not-
10 many a
L that his

head of a
ous exact-
klled forth
waa going
ow voice,
rons, was
e effort to
routh do?
hat at the
sized and
I to him
5d to wear
recurring

eparatory

torture had caused death, and had only occurred when
some unskilful Indian missed his aim, or when the
prisoner's reproaches and taunts excited the wrath and
hatred of his persecutors to the greatest degree, and pro-
roked one of them to throw his deadly tomahawk not
At the stake but at the forehead of the victim.

Halgan's bearing was such as to merit the esteem of
his enemies, and Eagle's Plume said, in a grave voice,
" The Pale-face has a lion's heart."

The torture by knives came next. Instead of being
threatened by the war-axe, Halgan was now to be
wounded ; the head and the heart were to be left un-
touched, so that the suffering might be of longer
duration, but the shoulders and arms were to be pierced
with the sharp blades.

The Captain bit his lips till the blood came, then
looked full in the face of the Golden L^'zard, who aimed
his knife at the right shoulder, but fixed it deeply
in a tree close by. After a few minutes, however, the
seaman's blood was flowing from ten wounds, and tho
stake and the adjacent trees were bristling with
knives ; the second part of his torture was at an end
and the last was about to begin.

At some distance from the open square, the children
of the savage tribe had heaped up dead wood and green
branches. The green branches were thrown before
Halgan, and placed so that their smoke might cause the
intolerable torture of suffocation. A pile of dry wood
was hastily heaped up at Tanguy's feet ; his flesh was
to be consumed by a quick tire.

•m

iil

224

John Canada

'3 I-

Up to this moment Wild Bindweed had seemed in-
sensible to all that was going on around her, but when
she saw a squaw bring a lighted brand to the pile
destined for Tanguy, she made a desperate effort, left
the place where she had been standing, and sprang into
the midst of the Indians with outstretched arms and
terror-stricken countenance, exclaiming in a voice which
was harsh from emotion, "Wild Bindweed is the
daughter of a chief famous for the battles he fought
and the victories he won. He left her an unprotected
orphan ; no Indian brings her venison, hunts for her
in the forest, or pierces the fish in the depths of the
lake for her. Wild Bindweed asks her brothers the
Red Children to adopt the Pale-face who is to die by
fire as a member of their tribe. She has a right to
claim a husband from the warriors who have taken her
father."

At these words, the Hurons looked at each other.

Wild Bindweed asked that which was considered
almost as a right. The courage of the prisoners had
inspired the Indians with a kind of respect for them.
Eagle's Plume himself, after a moment's consultation with
the old men, returned and said to the young girl, " The
Sachems grant your request. Let the daughter of the
chief learn whether the prisoner consents to become her
husband ! "

These words had been interchanged in the Huron
language, and Tanguy, whom they most deeply con-
cerned, had accordingly been unable to understand them.
But, remembering what Wild Bindweed had said to

The Stake.

225

led in-
b when
le pile
irt, left
ag into
018 and
e which
is the
fought
rotected
for her
8 of the
lers the
5 diehy
right to
iken her

;her.
isidered
lers had
ir them,
ion with
[1, ** The
)r of the
lome her

Huron
)ly con-
id them.

said to

him during his first captivity, he guessed that the poor
maiden was making another effort to save his life, and
was greatly touched by her devotion. Now, however,
with the stake and the fire before him, he rejected, as
■ he had already rejected on that dreadful night in the
hut, all idea of availing himself of the means of escape
which had then been proposed. To accept them would
have involved treachery and apostasy, and Tanguy was
resolved to die as he had lived.

Meanwhile, the young girl came slowly towards him,
and looking at him with gentle humility said, " The
Indian maiden asks you to save year life ; you will do
what you like with her afterwards. She will leave you
free to return to those who are waiting for you."

" Wild Bindweed," said Tanguy, " will the Indians
require me to swear that I will live among them and
adopt their religion and their customs P "

" Yes," replied the maiden, in a low voice.

"You see that I cannot escape without perjuring
myself. My God Who judges all hearts, will bring you
to Himself ; poor girl, I must die, let me pray."

At this moment a warrior set fire to the heap of
sassafras branches placed before Captain Halgan ;
Tanguy controlled his grief, and began to say the
Psalm De ProfundiSy aloud.

" It is his death-song ! " exclaimed the Indians.

Three wretched squaws threw embers on the pile
prepared for Marquis Tanguy, and soon the sparks rose
from it.

Then Patira darted away from the Indians who were

nr^

smm

226

John Canada*

|j|||^jy

iSi

guarding nim, and reached Tanguy*s side. '' WHiere
you are, my lord, I will be also ! " and he answered the
Psalm, which Tanguy was reciting.

A horrid sight was then to be seen on the open space
in the Great Island ; in its centre were the two victims,
one almost concealed by a column of smoke, while the
other was beginning to feel the terrible heat of the
flames. Around them stood men and women, old people
and children, uttering shouts of ferocious joy, and gloat-
ing over the agony of the sufferers.

Wild Bindweed had fallen on her knees, and was
sobbing, while she '>vered her face with her hands.

All at once ihe oii ver-haired Maiden started violently.
The long lowiTig of a wild buffalo was heard, and this
soimd reaching k«.iL ears amid the clamours of the
torturers caused a sudden change in her purpose and
attitude. Pressing through the crowd of curious by-
standers, she gained the foremost rank, and just opposite
to the stakes began to dance a wild measure, whose
course brought her at one moment quite close to the
tortured men, and the next, back to the crowd.

As she glided by the stake to which Halgan was
bound, she said to him in French, " Hope on, hope still !
I am coming to help you ! '*

Then rushing in the mad maze of her dance towards
the spot were Tanguy and Patira were already suffering
acute torments, she said to them in the same language,
" Gather up the burning brands, fight against the
multitude — struggle — defend your lives.**

Tanguy, Patira, and Halgan all thought that poor

The Stake.

227

ored the

en space
victims,
rhile the
it of the
Id people
nd gloat-

and was
Lands,
violently.
, and this
rs of the
irpose and
irious by-
opposite
re, whose
>se to the

gan was
lope still !

I towards

suffering

Language,

ainst the

that poor

Nonpareille had been overwhelmed by the horrors of
their situation and had utterly lost her reason. But,
stUl continuing her fantastic dance, she lifted from the
ground one of the rods with which a bystander had
sought to scourge Patira, and careering round the open
space with giddy speed, she scattered with one cut of
this wand the sassafras branches whose suffocating smoke
was stifling Halgan, and the burning embers whose
dreadful heat was scorching Tan guy. The first impulse
of the fierce and cruel squaws was to gather the frag-
ments of the burning pile together again, and to cast a
fresh heap of green branches down at the captain's feet,
but Nonpareille turned round and round, and flitted to
and fro with frantic speed ; her ethereal beauty lent
fresh charm to each motion, and as she danced she
chanted a song which at once impressed and fascinated
the Hurons. From the moment they had first seen her
these Indians had believed the Silver-haired Maiden to
be a creature belonging to a special and favoured race.
They did not venture to oppose her caprice, and being
aasured that they could at any moment resume their
torture of the Pale-faces by again lighting up the fires,
they gave themselves up to the pleasure of watching
her whirl and dart along like a bird intoxicated with
freedom, air, and sunshine. She soon saw that neither
Tanguy nor Halgan would aid her. Determined as she
was to save them she had to act alone. So she went on
in her fantastic meandering course, scattering with her
wand the embers strewed upon the ground, and the
branches from whose ends the sap was bubbling forth.

228

John Canada.

; i
ii

When slie had dispersed the fiery fragments, she was
seen to leap and run amidst them without ever burning
her quill- embroidered mocassins. She seemed to have
made an agreement with the spirit of the fire. Then
throwing away her now useless wand, she hastened on,
with her arms raised towards heaven and her long, white
hair floating about her like a veil. Every time that
she passed near the stakes where the prisoners were
bound, she gave them a kindly look and a word of hope.
But while Halgan, Patira, and Tanguy were fully per-
suaded of the devotion of the Silver-haired Maiden, no
one of them dared to hope for liberty through her efforts.
Almost exhausted by her exertions she was still
circling round the stakes when the lowing of the
buffalo was heard near at hand. Nonpareille's hair
veiled her face completely in her rapid flight, and her
outstretched arms seemed to im^Vre some supernatural
intervention. Patira thought a strange hallucination
had come over him when the unearthly maiden mur-
mured as she passed him by, " Black Bison."

She had hardly pronounced the name, when a terrible
sound was heard at some little distance. It was a war-
cry, well known to the Hurons, the cry of the Abe-
naquis, whose knives had taken from them many a scalp.
An indescribable tumult followed the fierce cry which
was immediately succeeded by the appearance of a troop
of enemies numerous enough to make the Hurons forget
the emotions caused by the prospect of the threefold
torture, and by NonpareiUe's magic dance and the
respite it had won. The maiden sprang to a maple tree

1 ii ;

llllly

m..

TJie Sta/^.

229

which stood at Bome little distance from Halgan's stake,
seized two tomahawks which were stnok fast in its
tnmk, and wielding them with wonderful dexterity, cut
the Captain's fetters and freed Tan guy from his bonds,
then suddenly, together with the captives, appeared in
the midst of a band of armed men who, muskets in
hand, showered a hail of balls on the Hurons. The
battle soon became general. The Black Bison had led
against the warriors encamped in the Great Island, a
flotilla of canoes bearing a troop of well-tried Indians
and a score of their Canadian allies. Halgan and
Tanguy, threatened by the foes who were exasperated to
the utmost by seeing that their three prisoners were
about to be rescued from their hands, dealt many a
mortal blow, and the white hair of Nonparcille was
covered with red drops and seemed as ii she had
in some caprice adorned it with the scarlet berries of
the eglantine. War-cries, shouts, and howls of rage
mingled in horrid confusion, and nothing could be seen
but raised axes, lances pointed, and muskets breathing
forth smoke. The Hurons uttered shrieks of rage as
they fell, and with a sweep of their terrible scalping
knives the Abenaquis took the long tufts of hair inter-
woven with feathers and various ornaments which they
had worn on the top of their heads. The fight was terrible
on both sides, but at length the Abenaquis gained the
day, and after having laid the most formidable Huron
warriors low, tliey made the rest prisoners, and cast them
bound with tender branches of the vine, into the same
canoes which but the night before had served for the

fpf^

230

John Canaaa.

, }

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t

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pursuit of the unhappy French captives through the
labyrinth of the Thousand Isles. The distracted women
had fled away into the forest, or cast themselves into
the St. Lawrence, hoping to swim to some neighbouring
island, the children were crying with terror and hiding
themselves in the cabins. The warriors who writhed
fearfully wounded on the ground, had still courage
enough to stifle the death-rattle of their agony.

When the Hurons were completely overpowered.
Black Bison came, covered with blood from wounds
which were not of a serious character, and approaching
Tanguy said to him in a grave and deep-toned voice,
"The Pale-face wiU tell John Canada that the Bed
Children have done their duty."

Tanguy and Halgan thought they were the victims
of some delusion. Nonpareille and Patira were smiling
through their tears.

"How much my young brother has sujGEered for his
friends ! " said the little Indian maiden.

"How my young sister has sacrificed herself for me! "
repeated Patira again and again.

After the Abenaquis had delivered Halgan and
Tanguy, they hastened back to their canoes. They did
not wish to venture on spending the night in the midst
of the labyrinth of the Thousand Isles. They, there-
fore, made Tanguy and Halgan take their places in the
largest of the boats together with Black Bison. Non-
pareille and Patira sprang lightly into a second boat,
which had hardly left the shore when a woman rushed
hastily forward, threw i:erself into the St. Lawrence
and began to swim towards it.

The Stake,

231

lliii

"Wild Bindweed!" ejiclaimed Nonpareille.

Her first feeling was one of repulsion, but she soon
surmounted it ; Patira stopped rowing in order to allow
Mingo to get into the bark canoe. The brave creature's
exploit among the Hurons made him worthy to return
to the House of the Rapids and resume his position at
his young mistress's side. He and Wil'l Bindweed were
both safely taken into the boat.

The four-footed creature had given proofs of sur-
prising intelligence, and the poor savage girl had made
many brave attempts to save those who had refused to
accept deliverance from her hands.

The Abenaquis rowed rapidly on, until the veils of
night were spread over river, sky, and forest. Then
the oars were laid down, the little fleet lay motionless,
and all slept save a sentinel who stood at the prow of
each little vessel.

At da^oi the canoes went on, and after eight days had
passed, a little group of Frenchmen and Canadians
landed on the shore of the river. A surprise awaited
Halgan and Tanguy. Their return was greeted with
shouts of joy by some men who were encamped near the
St. Lawrence, for John Canada and a party of his
friends were returning to Montreal, and wearied with
a long march were taking a little rest beneath the cool
shade of the trees which overshadowed the river.

"Whence do you come?** asked Tanguy.

"From Lake Ontario/' answered John Canada.

" And you P"
From death I " said the Marquis of Coetquen.

232

John Canada.

"And you are going-

>»

"I will never leave you again."

"Does the chief of the Pale-faces know nothing?"
asked the Black Bison.

"I know that Canada is rising, that we shall drive
the English out of Montreal, that the Catholics will no
longer be persecuted by the Protestants, and that the
soil we tread on will again become New France."

"The house of my brother has been burned."

"What matter?" answered John Canada, "I will
sleep in the tent ; " and turning to Tanguy he added,
"I do not ask you what has become of the House of the
Rapids."

"It was destroyed after the wreck of the Great
Hut."

"Come," said John Canada, "when the eagle is with-
out an eyrie, it rises straight to the sun ; till the day
comes when we shall have an army, God leaves us the
forests and our liberty."

And in another moment the Abenaquis and the
Canadians were together beneath the fresh, grean canopy
of the trees, and many a question was rapidly asked
and answered.

John Canada gave an account of the moral success of
his mission and of the welcome he had met with in the
smallest villages when it was known that he had come
to recruit soldiers for war against the English. Black
Bison, when questioned by John Canada regarding his
apparently miraculous arrival in the island to relieve
Patira, Halgan, and Tanguy from the most fearful of

i<'>

Margaret Jefferson.

233

tortures, pointed to Nonpareille and said, *' The Silver-
haired Maiden found means of letting me know that
there were prisoners in the islands, and from the canoe
in which she was with Patira, she let down into the
water a cable whose end was made fast to the shore.
I followed the track and the Lord of Heaven has
delivered them from the hands of the Hurons."

Early in the morning the united body of Canadians
and Abenaquis resumed their journey and went to the
neighbourhood of the village of La Chine. Tanguy
walked between Nonpareille and Patira at the head of
the party. He no longer felt fatigue, and the name of
Herve was often on his lips.

CHAPTER XVI.

MARGARET JEFFERSON.

Night had closed in, but George Malo did not yet
think of lighting his lamp. He was at this moment
enjoying complete repose of body and mind ; he had
thrown himself comfortably into a great easy chair, and
his mind was refreshed by Herve's simple prattle.
Since the day when Patira had entrusted the child to
him and himself gone to seek Tanguy, a tender affection
for the little Herve had sprung up in George Male's
breast. The ardent champion of the Canadian cause,
who had up to this moment sacrificed everything for
the sake of his country, felt his soul for the first time
open to softer emotions. The presence of Harve was at

^mm

234

John Canada,

once a comfort and a source of melancholy regret. If
circumstances liad left him free, if the peril of his own
people had not involved him in ceaseless struggles,
George would have yielded to the affectionate dis-
positions of his nature, have chosen a partner of his life
and sought his happiness in the peace of home. But
duty silenced such youthful aspirations, and he lived
alone with the great idea which constantly occupied his
mind, and sometimes dilated his heart — the idea of giving
freedom to the country which here the name of New
France, and which was closely bound by ties of affection
to the Kingdom of the Lily on the other side of the
deep ocean. Solitude was pressing heavily on George
Male in this dreamy hour of repose. Hervfe's words at
once delighted and saddened him. With the charming
simplicity of his age the child spoke of the memories of
his few years, he described the high walls of the ancient
Abbey of Lehon, the chapel beneath whose carved
arches were the tombs of many nobles of Brittany ; he
talked of the great gardens and the blossoming orchards,
of the long walks he had sometimes taken with Patira,
and of the day when his young guide had made him
kneel down before the iron-barred window of the dun-
geon of the Round Tower. The short life of the boy was
unrolled before George Malo with all its dangers and
escapes ; he heard of the tocsin soundiig its alarm from
the high towers, of the storm of revolution at the Abbey
gates, of the dark, underground hiding-place into which
Patira had led him, of the two nights spent among the
ruins of Guildo, of the fearful storm at sea, and then of

Margaret Jefferaou.

235

rescue from peril by means of an old man who was his
grandfather and who took him on board his own ship.

Herv^ was encouraged to talk on by the evidenl
interest of his friend in his stories. When he had
come to the end, he clasped his arms round George
Malo's neck. The young man pressed him to his heart
and caressed him.

Then, a vision arose before him, he knew not why.
Back to his memory came the face of the young girl
whom he had protected one evening from the rudeness
of the drunken sailors, whom he had afterwards met at
the door of a church, and again seen giving alms to a
poor woman.

He recalled her name, the sweet and homely name of
Margaret, and the little house half hidden by the lilacs
whicii he had seen amid the darkness of the night.
The young girl was modest, pious and kind ; gentleness
and sadness might be read in the expression of her eyes,
and while George held Herve in his arms and gently
rocked him to and fro, he began to wish that some
chance might again bring her across his path. If the
happiness of a home and the joys of domestic life might
have been his, he felt that he would have asked her to
share that home and to make him happy. He was sorry
that he had not tried to find the little house at Montreal
again, and to make the acquaintance of Margaret's
parents. He had no doubt that they were honest, loyal
French Catholics, for the few words the girl had spoken
had made it plain to George that she loved God and
loved France.

■,i! ¥ 3
W S;!

236

JoAn Canada.

"Yea/* said George to himself, "I will find her oat
and I will see her father."

At this very moment a gentle knock at the door made
him put the drowsy Herv6 down, and rise to open it
for a visitor.

We have said that George's room was dark that
evening, accordingly he could not clearly distinguish
the person who suddenly stood before him, but the
ample folds of a long cloak and the vague outline of a
veil showed that the visitor was a woman. She see J
to be out of breath and leant against the side of the
door as if afraid of falling. Her bowed- down head and
her helplessly hanging arms betrayed the existence of
some great sorrow.

"What can I do for you?" asked George Malo.

The unknown appeared to regain a little strength,
she no longer leaned against the door, but turned
towards the stairs and listened, then, gliding into the
room while George Malo was endeavouring to light the
lamp, she said in a choking voice, "Mr. George Malo,
I have come to save you. You must go at once ; other-
wise you are a lost man."

" They are going to arrest me?" said George, inquir-
ingly.

" Yes, this evening — to-night — it may be immedi-
ately ; and knowing of the plan, I would not let such
iniquity be peipetrated. I have run here, half -dead
with fear. You know nothing but pressing peril would
have brought me here at so late an hour."

George Malo remembered having already heard the

l! ' >

Margaret Jeffenon,

237

voice of the veiled woman wlio stood before Kim ; he
could not indeed, mistake the tones whose sweetness
he had been recalling to mind when roused by the
knocking at his door.

" Margaret ! " he exclaimed ; " tell me that you are
Margaret ! "

" Yes," answered the young girl ; " you once pro-
tected me, and I wish to pay the debt I owe you."

" But how do you know ? '*

" What matters it how I know P " cried Margaret, in
passionate grief ; " you know that what I tay is true.
You know that unless your very life had been in danger
I should not have come here. You must fiy, I tell
you — fly without any delay."

George had by this time lighted the lamp and he
eaw before him Margaret, pale as death, beneath the
black veil with which she had covered her face.

*'Does the danger threaten me only?" he asked;
♦* answer me, on vour honour."

" Your countrymen are in the same peril.**

" Can you warn them all, can you save them all P "

" No," said Margaret, wringing her white hands in
despair; "I have not power to save them all. You
are the head of the plot together with John Canada
who happily is absent. You must escape from the
English police ; the interest of the cause you are de-
fending requires that you should do so."

*' Should I not be deemed a traitor to that cause»
Margaret P Besides, you must really be exaggerating
the danger. During the last year I have over and over

238

John Canada.

wii

;fm;x

again hfiRtd what j^ovi now tell me. I am touched
beyond expression by your kindness and generosity,
but I am aocustomed to danger, Margaret, and but for
the sake of this dear child who has been confided to
my care I should be little moved at the idea of being
taken. Must I not fall in the conflict into which I
have thrown myself ? As often as I have even thought
of escape from the obligations it entails. Providence
has made me feel that I have no right to dream of
living an ordinary life. You tell me that death
threatens me, Margaret; but in warning me of my
danger you brave as great a peril. I may then speak
without fear, and you may hear me without a blush :
When you entered this room, I was thinking of you."

" Of me ! " exclaimed Margaret, folding her hands
on her breast. " Of me ! you ! George Malo. . . . What-
ever may happen to me in future days, I shall remem-
ber your words. I deemed myself a prey to grief
that could be softened by no consolation. But you
have given me consolation such as I could not have
hoped for, and I have had my share of happiness on
earth. I have won a thought from a noble heart, it is
enough for poor Margaret ; it is more than she had any
right to expect."

The young girl's breast heaved with a sob, and she hid
her face in her hands : after having made the bravest ef-
forts to control the emotions which had filled her heart
for many hours, she felt at last completely overpowered.

For a long time she had suffered from a depression
of spirits which she could scarcely account for. She

I i

Margaret Jefferson.

239

was like one breathing an unhealthy air. Uitherfo
she had merely loved her fatherr, but lately she had
begun to study his voice and his manner. Doubt and
distrust had entered into her soul slowly, at first almost
insensibly: the distrust had increased and had been
strengthened by various circumstances. She observed
that strange glances were cast at her ; the silence of
certain persons wounded her. Little by little she
guessed that she was an object of aversion to many.
Yet Margaret had done no harm to anyone. She was
pious, kind, industrious, and obliging. She slowly came
to understand that her very name exercised an influ-
ence which varied with the character of those who heard
it mentioned. In some cases it was a sort of talisman
able to remove difficulties, while in others it was met
by fear or by contempt. Margaret came to feel that
she was, as it were, marked by some indelible brand, and
she resolved to know the reason of the spell which she
seemed to bear about her. She asked her father many
questions in hopes of obtaining some information. One
morning, accidentally seeing him in the street she fol-
lowed him, and observed that he went to the Central
Police-office, but this circumstance awakened no suspi-
cion in her mind ; in fact, she had herself gone there to
obtain permission to visit Lucy David in her prison.

She observed that Jefferson wrote more than usual
and sent her away to her room at an early hour in the
evening ; Margaret was in his way, and she determined
to know the reason of his objection to her presence.
Moreover, she remarked that Tom Jones and Dick

ilf:

240

John Canada.

Long stealthily came to the houso three times vritbin
the same week.

Having learned their names she was further anxious
for some certain information regarding their profession,
and one day, when Amy David spoke to her of the per-
secutions which she had undergone at the hands of the
English police, she asked the name of the chief cause
of her sufEerings.

"Tom Jones," replied the widow; "the wretched
man wished to marry my Luc^, and being refused by
her and by me, he revenged himself, as you know, by
accusing her of theft."

Margaret's heart beat as if it would break, but she
continued to question Amy, and heard much of the
secret action of the police in those troublous times, of
the manner in which accusations were made, and of the
arbitrary exercise of authority.

She learned all that she had sought to know, and
when, after many expressions of affection, she left the
widow, she knew that her father was an active partisan
of the foes of her mother's nation.

It would be impossible to describe all that she felt.
Her fair dreams of happiness were shattered at one
blow, and she looked on herself as one tainted by moral
leprosy.

Her father had been instrumental in the imprison-
ment and execution of men with whom, as a French-
woman, she sympathised. For a moment she thought
of running away from the parent whom she could no
longer respect, of hiding her sorrow, she knew not

1
i

J- , , . ,

Margaret Jefferson,

where, of changing her name and disappearing for
ever from all former friends and acquaintances. But
reflection soon showed her that her departure would be
of no avail. Aliother view of duty suddenly occurred
to her. The idea was one fraught with sorrow and
danger in its execution ; she weighed it carefully, took
the measure of her powers, and then resolved to carry
out what she believed to be an inspiration from above.

Margaret dried her eyes, endeavoured to resume her
wonted serenity, and succeeded in disarming even Jeffer-
son's anxiety. For he had been uneasy about his daugh-
ter. He had observed that she had grown pale, and that
her spirits varied. Sometimes she had seemed depressed
and sorrowful, and sometimes full of merriment ; her
affection even had undergone many strange phases.
But his misgivings were speedily removed ; Margaret
recovered her gentle and even demeanour, and seemed
to draw nearer to her father.

After meals, instead of sitting in silence at his side
or reading to him, Margaret would seek for information
regarding the subjects of the day, and question him
about political affairs. When alone she used to read
the history of the discovery and conquest of Canada.
Her mind grew, and her reason became developed by
these studies in a manner which Jefferson deemed some-
what alarming. He began by paying little attention
to his daughter's inquiries and endeavouring to make
her content herself with her sewing and embroidery ; but
by-and-by he fancied that it would be better himself to
teach her than to let her gather from others the know-

Vi. ■ ,

A. '

242

John Canada.

ledge for wLich she craved. Moreover, a fresli hope
dawned in his mind : he was well aware that notwith-
standing nil his tender affection for his daughter, they
were not completely one at heart ; the pious maiden,
who had inherited all her mother's love for everything
French, had sometimes irritiited him by her want of
sympathy with the opinions he expressed. He now
thought that he might be able to gain over her intellect;
by means of concessions he hoped she might be led to
share his ideas. He saw that she was intelligent and
he resolved to win her ; he expected to be met by op-
position and by fervent protestations, but to his surprise
Margaret continued calm and was eager for informa-
tion : she answered seldom but asked many questions.
Her prudent silence and her well-timed remarks con-
vinced Jefferson that he was gaining ground, and that
the seed sown would bear fruit. The girl certainly
preferred political subjects to questions of religion ; it
was easier to deal with her patriotic impulses than with
her conscientious scruples ; he thought that it would be
well to proceed carefully and avoid anything tiiat might
shock her timid sensibility, and he joyfully continued
the task which she had imposed upon him. We have
said that Jefferson adored Margaret. Love for his child
was the bright point in that dark soul. But this love
had never been able to find its full expression ; in former
days her sweet Acadian mother had in some degree
come between Margaret and her English father, and
afterwards the girl herself had put God ever be-
fore her father. From the moment that Jefferson

Margaret Jefferson.

243

began to hope that Margaret would give up her youth-
ful enthusiasm and embrace Protestantism and practical
views, he also hoped that his child would belong to him
more exclusively andwould completely return his tender
affection. So, after having in the first place used some
prudence in order not to startle her by premature con-
fidences, he soon proceeded to speak of the condition of
the country and of the plots which were being secretly
hatched. Margaret seemed to take great interest in these
stories, and declared them to be far more engrossing than
all her books. Jefferson's success was apparently com-
plete. His daughter never asked him how he came to
know so much. His usual expression was " I heard at my
office,*' and the formula satisfied her. He did not con-
ceal from her the names of individuals concerned nor
the projects entertained by the authorities. She knew
the means which the law might employ even before
she understood the nature of the crimes to be punished.
On certain subjects Margaret's father consulted her, and
she displayed great sagacity in regard to questions
which were completely new to her. One day, as he
spoke of the changes in his mode of life which might
be made in consequence of his probable promotion, he
took Margaret's hands and drew her towards him to
kiss her on the forehead ; she drew back in a sort of
terror, but did not leave him time to guess the cause
of her repugnance, and submitted to a caress which
made her cheek grow pale.

But Jefferson grew careworn and anxious. The hap-
piness of his own fireside with Margaret to listen to hi!«

\ I' '■ '

244

John Canada.

arguments and histories was not sufficient to console him
for many successive disappointments. A large number
of Canadians accused of conspiring against England
had managed to escape from the hand of justice.
The chiefs who were supposed to be in secure confine-
ment had been freed in a manner which appeared almost
miraculous. If the officials made a descent on some
liouse in which they expected to find important papers,
lists of names, and plans of conspiracies, nothing could
be discovered save unfinished poems and romances or
youthful lucubrations. The best laid schemes had ended
in nothing but failure.

J'^fferson, who had ever been most successful in the
capture of thieves and assassins, failed signally and re-
peatedly when he endeavoured to unravel some plot and
bring the conspirators within reach of the law. His
conversations with Margaret were accordingly full of
complaints and accusations. He saw the good fortune
he had hoped for vanish into thin air, and if he did not
completely despair it was because he believed that his
last card would prove to be a trump. For some time
he had been well acquainted with the doings of George
Malo, and feeling sure that his papers would furnish
positive proof of John Canada's guilt, he had resolved
or a bold stroke which would bring the young man into
his power. Much as he trusted Margaret, he did not
mention this project to her. A nocturnal visit from Tom
Jones and Dick Long, however, awakened the young
girl's suspicions; she went to her room according to her
custom when her father and his friends seated them-

Margaret Jefferaon.

245

selves at a table covered with bottles, but she came
down again, barefooted, and stood motionless with her
ear against the door until the two men prepared to de-
part. Then and then only she went back to her cham-
ber, and throwing herself on her bed burst into tears.
The next morning she seemed so prostrate that her
father was alarmed and declared that he would not leave
her ; she was suffering from a sharp feverish attack.
Doctor Jacob Perkins who was hastily summoned pre-
scribed rest and cooling drinks, and Jefferson who felt
entitled to a little quiet as a preparation for coming
events, installed himself at her bedside. Margaret begged
and prayed him to leave her, but nothing could induce
him to do so. Worn out in body and mind she was com-
pelled to endure the sight of one whose projects filled
her with the greatest horror. At about eight o'clock
in the evening, believing his daughter to have fallen into
a heavy sleep, Jefferson noiselessly rose and went down
stairs, and after having desired an old women who had
come to give her services, to look after Margaret, left
the house.

When he had crossed the threshold Margaret leant
at the window and watched his steps for some time ;
she then dressed herself hastily and was about to gc
down to the hall when she heard the heavy step of the
old woman who had been told to attend to her. Mar
garet could not think of going downstairs. The old
woman would have opposed her wish to go out, and
would have asked for explanations, which Margaret
could not and would not give. Excited by fever, pressed

246

Jo/tn Canada.

4iy

by time and having no other means of escape available,
she knotted one of her sheets to the bar of the window,
got on the window sill, and holding the sheet in her
two hands slid down into the narrow garden among the
shrubs. Gliding along beneath the sbade of the lilacs,
she left the lane and began to run in the direction of
George Male's house. The name of the young man
had been very often mentioned by Margaret's father in
the course of conversation, and she knew where he
lived. She reached the house, and knocked at his door
as we have seen, just when the young Breton holding
the Marquis of Coetquen's child in his arms, was in-
dulging in dreams of the past and the future.

She warned him of his danger, she prayed and
wept ; she heard that George Malo would have asked
her to be his wife if circumstances had not forbidden a
thought of his own happiness, but she was completely
baffled by the generous obstinacy of the young man,
whose only answer was, " If you cannot save all my
friends who are in the same danger I must share their
fate."

Margaret turned to the child, " George Malo is in
danger," she said. " George Malo must love you ; tell
him to listen to me, to obey me, tell him that in saving
himself he will save you ! I will carry you away in my
arms, you will have nothing to fear, I will love you ! "

Steps were now heard on the stairs.

Margaret grew pale as death, and pressed Herve to
her heart as if this living shield could protect her from
the shock which was imminent.

Margaret Jefferfion.

247

" They are coining," she said, " you sco, what I have
told you is but too true ! This means captivity and death !
God help you! why have I been unable to convince you?"

" Margaret ! my life is in God's hands, and at this
terrible moment I thank you and bless you ! "

A knock was heard at the door and Margaret hastily
placed herself before George.

" Do not open ! " she cried, " there must be some
other way out, through a window perhaps — get into the
street ajs I did by a sheet from the window ! but do not,
do not open the door ! '*

" Poor girl ! " said George Malo, in a saddened tone,
" you have run into danger for my sake ! "

" Run into danger ! " exclaimed Margaret, " why
should I be thought of ? what am I ? you pity me now,
and in another moment you will look down upon me."

George Malo put the young girl aside, and opened
the door wide.

A voice at once exclaimed " John Canada ! " and
another cried " Herve ! "

The Marquis of Coetquen took the child from Mar-
garet's arms and covered him with caresses. Halgan and
Black Bison came close to George while Patira took one
of Herve's hands and pressed it to his lips.

*' At last !" said Tanguy, " we meet ao-ain ; we are
saved ! "

You are lost, gentlemen," said Jefferson's daughter
" hopelessly lost unless you can convince Mr. George
Malo that it is his duty to escape from the danger which
threatens hi a. Your worn faces and your ragged garments

248

John Canada.

show that your have passed through many a peril ; there
is blood on your hands and the smell of powder on your
clothes, but I had rather see ten regiments of English
soldiers and a horde of savages ready to fight with you
than think of what is coming. Prison, and it may be
death are before you. I have spoken, I have besought,
but nothing can overcome Mi*. George Male's resolution.
The emissaries are on the way ; it will soon be too late.
Providence has brought you together that you may
all be saved together. If you refuse, another hour,
another moment may bring you all at once into Gor-
don's power."

John Canada approached the young girl.

" How do you know this P " he asked.

*' How ? what matters to you how I know it ? I am
ill ; I have left my bed, I have skinned my hands by
sliding down a sheet. I have risked my life, — that is
nothing ! "What is life to me ? But my father's curse
will fall upon me. Who told me ? My mother was
an Acadian, I inherit her devotion, and I ask to have a
share in her martyrdom. Is that enough for you,
gentlemen P "

" Yes, yoa must be telling the truth, young girl ; and
yet I, — whoam thechief ; I, — who dispose of the soul and
oi the arms of the Canadians ; I, — who hold in my hands
the hearts of the Fret- oh of this part of New France,
have a right to ask for more ; — ^what motive urges you
\:^ aid us ? forgive me, forgive me, my child, for what
looks like suspicion, but we have been betrayed more
than once "

Manja/ et JeffcrHon.

249

Margaret raised herself to her full height, she was
pale and her hands were nervously clasped together, as
she looked John Canada in the face and said, " You
would know how I ha\e learned that you were to be
arrested, and why I, a timid, respectable Catholic girl,
have come by night to provide for your safety ! The
reason why I risk my reputation to save your lives is
that I am an unhappy being, who must suffer for the
shame of one of her own people \ The daughter of the
Acadian comes to rescue you ! and you will curse the
daughter of Jefferson ! "

" The daughter of Jefferson ! " repeated John Canada.

" Jefferson, the police officer ? " asked George.

" Yes," answered Margaret, " I am his daughter.
You understand, do you not ? and now let me leave
you — let me, broken-hearted as I am, fulfil one last
duty by giving Lucy David back to her mother. Leave
Montreal this very night and for a time give up all idea
of restoring Canada to France."

George Male and John Canada were silent. It was a
terrible blow to the former to learn that Margaret was
the daughter of such an enemy as Jefferson, but he was
too just to allow his admiration for the generous young
girl to be impaired by the sense of her father's conduct.
He held out his hand v/ith the words, " Thanks and
farewell I "

" I am not needed here," said Patira to Margaret,
" shall I bear you company P "

Margaret looked at the youth and was about to reply,
when the noise of approaching footsteps was heard.

^Pl

250

John Canada,

" The police ! " said John Canada.

" Listen,' said Margaret, hurriedly ;" Tom Jones, my
father, and Long think they have only Mr. George Malo
to deal with ; the party come to arrest him is not
numerous, perhaps there may be but three. Providence
has brought six of you together here. You may escape
from those who have come to take you. For the sake of
what I have done for you, spare the life of my father ;
it will be dreadful enough for him to find me here."

" We will spare him," said Halgan.

The Captain and the Marquis of Coetquen drew back
into the shadow so that the door when opened would
hide them from view. Margaret took Herve in her
arms, and even before they had knocked at the door,
George Malo quietly opened it, and stood face to face
with the three intruders.

But Jefferson's eye did not fall at first on George Malo ;
he saw his daughter, he saw Margaret standing a few
paces from the conspirator, and he uttered a cry like
the roaring of wounded tiger.

" Wretched, miserable creature ! " he exclaimed, com-
ing towards her.

She was calm, terribly calm. She did not implore
pity from her father, she did not even deign to answer
the accusation which she could read on his counten-
ance, but merely said, " I have don^ my duty, do
yours P "

" Arrest this man ! '* shouted Jefferson, pointing to
George Malo.

The young man sprang suddenly over a table and

Margaret Jt'fferson.

251

thus placed an obstacle between himself and the police.
Halgan, Coetquen and Patira stood near him, Jones
and Long found a formidable adversary in the Black
Bison, John Canada endeavoured to overpower Jefferson,
while Margaret, Patira and Herve trembled in terror.

All at once a cry burst from Halgan's lips, Jones
had struck him on the temple with his iron fist. Patira
flew to his succour, Herv^ sobbed bitterly and Margaret
holding the table with both hands to support herself,
groaned aloud.

Halgan's cry was heard in the street. George Malo^s
neighbours were excited, and a party of Frenchmen
rushed up the stairs to offer their assistance.

When the Canadians became aware that Jones, Long
and Jefferson had come to arrest the ardent patriot, they
opened the windows and cried out to the crowd which
was gathering in the street, " They are arresting George
Malo ! " " They are murdering John Canada ! '*

The words were like a match set to a train of gun-
powder. From every house issued forth defenders of
the Canadian leaders. In another moment, Halgan,
Coetquen, the Black Bison, George Malo, and John
Canada were in the street, preceded hj their three assail-
ants, who were now made prisoners and subjected to no
gentle treatment from the friends of the French cause.

The clamour became more and more general, and
many hastily armed themselves to defend him who was
loved as the friend of the Indians, the champion of
Canada, and the representative of the old French and
Catholic spirit in their oppressed country.

252

John Canada,

John Canada was alarmed by the vehemence tf his
friends, and repeatedly exclaimed in a loud voice, " No
bloodshed ! no bloodshed ! "

But his words were lost in the general confusion and
uproar ; darkness added to the peril of the situation, and
in another hour the city of Montreal was divided into
two hostile camps.

The three police officials had been separated. Mar-
garet clung to her father's garments and endeavoured
to protect him from the fury of the crowd ; she shrank
not from death, poor girl, indeed she had long since
offered her life as a sacrifice. Her only desire was that
her blood, shed for a sacred cause, might serve to
appease hatred. Alas ! the last word that had come
from her father's lips was a curse. He tried in vain to
repel the brave girl who had placed herself between him
and death, he could not free himself from the living
chain formed by her arms, and many a mortal blow
would have struck him but that his enemies held back
for fear of wounding his daughter.

CHAPTER XVII.

A PREMATURE STRUGGLE.

When he saw around him the little army that had so
suddenly assembled for his defence, John Canada's
heart grew full of gratitude and of fear. Of gratitude,
for he knew that the people were with him, and that at
one word from him they would rise against the foe.

A Premature Struggle.

253

But he dreaded the tumultuous scenes of which the
city seemed about to become the theatre. One spark
would suffice to bring about a general explosion, and in
John Canada's opinion an outbreak at that moment
would have been most disastrous. He wished for a
splendid victory, a victory which should give back to
France the " acres of snow," that she had despised.
He dreamed of the revival of his fallen country and of
the triumph of the Catholic cause, but he knew that
such projects demand time to mature them.

For twenty years he had cherished a great plan and
and been carrying on preparations for its execution,
recruiting his forces on the banks of the rivers, in the
depth of the forests, and on the shores of the lakes.
He had won new tribes to the cause of France, and
he might have counted on success as certain, only on
condition that the fitting moment should be chosen for
action and that prudence should be joined with valour.
And all at once, by one isolated act, he seemed to be
thrown, spite of himself, into a popular revolutionary
movement which would probably bring hopeless ruin
on his cause.

Therefore, when he looked upon the excited crowd
before George Male's house, and saw his friends
and partisans disposed to take vengeance on the under-
lings who had endeavoured to accomplish his arrest,
John Canada's soul was filled with bitter anguish,

•' For the love of heaven," my friends, he said, " be
calm. If we now, without sufficient preparation, begin
a contest, we shall fail miserably. I entreat you to dis-

in^'P'^i^HH

254

John Canada,

perse, and not to do anything which can be taken hold of
by our opponents. I will leave Montreal with George
Malo, and we will not return till we can count on victory.
Till then, be brave and patient ! Blood shed now, would
be shed in vain. I do not want to provoke an insur-
rection. I desire such victory as may give liberty to my
brethren. Believe me, rather than have you fight for me
now, when success is hopeless, I would go and give my-
self up to the English authorities."

" Fly then ! fly !'* cried twenty voices at once ; *' fly
with George Malo."

A shudder passed through John Canada's frame.

" Fly !" echoed George Malo with fiery eyes, " I
would rather die here and stain this pavement with my
blood. Who can say, John Canada, that the attack
which has now been made upon us is not a providential
signal for the struggle which we deemed still distant ?
Fly ! never ! I will fight ! But you have a burden
of responsibility far greater than mine. Your cool
judgment is worth more than my impetuosity. And
you have every right to go, since I alone am threatened.
In arresting you, Jefferson would have done what is
illegal, for he had no warrant against you. Go ! I am
free, and I am running no risk, being, as you see, m
the midst of Frenchmen."

" Yes, yes," said Halgan and Tanguy, " fly, while
we still are able to protect your departure."

" It is too late," said John Canada, in a solemn tone.

And, indeed, in the distance was heard the roll of the
Euglish drums, and the heavy tread of the soldiers sent

A Premature Struggle.

255

to disperse the crowd. John Canada had no longer
power to prevent a combat. Seeing his friends de-
termined to fight, he could not think of forsaking them,
whatever his own convictions might be. But George
Malo and the Marquis of Coetquen heard him exclaim
in a kind of despair : " They know not how to wait !
Their precipitate action will ruin the most noble cause ! "

From three different points the troops came on,
musket in hand. A first discharge cast terror among
the crowd, then rage took the place of fear and the
multitude rushed forward in tumultuous disorder ; the
ranks of the Canadians were thinned by the fire of the
soldiers, but they continued their furious onslaught,
wrenching the weapons from the hands of their assail-
ants and shouting vengeance against England, against
the Governor of Montreal and the soldiers whom he had
commanded to fire on them.

The whole city was soon given over to fearful con-
fusion. The authorities met together, fresh soldiers
were summoned from their barracks and desired to act
the utmost vigour.

The sound of the church bells was soon mingled with
the rolling of drums, the cries of women, and the shouts
of combatants. The darkness was lighted up by the
lurid glow of torches, and from every quarter the
populace assembled in yet greater numbers. The report
of an attempt to capture George Malo and to assassinate
John Canada, excited the passions of the young men
and urged them to the scene of action. Political and
religious opinions tended to intensify the violence of

256

John Canada.

the struggle. A fierce and decisive civil war was to be
the consequence of JefPerson's imi^rudent conduct.

Long and Jones were slain on the spot. Jefferson,
torn at last from Margaret's arms, was bound by the
wrists and dragged through the streets. His limbs
trailed over the pavements, his head was knocked
against the stones, his hair was stained with blood, he
felt that life was leaving him and that he was about to
die in the midst of this horrid torture.

All at once, at the corner of a square which was
illuminated by a tar-fire, the men who had ^.eized
Jefferson perceived a lamp-post. They bound hi*. i to it,
persuaded that he could not long survive his wounds ;
and he was left there with the flickering flame which
still burned on, although the sheltering glass had been
shattered, and mst its uncertain gleams over his ghastly
countenance.

John Canada meanwhile was undergoing the bitter
anguish of seeing the complete ruin of his colossal pro-
ject. He had dreamed of glorious warfare for his
country, of a battle such as that which had made
the plains of Abraham famous, and he now found him-
self through circumstances unforeseen and entirely be-
yond his own control, engaged in a fruitless struggle
which offered him no prospect beyond that of tem-
porarily defending a position and decimating a regiment
of his adversaries.

Taking advantage of the general tumult and con-
fusion, the soldiery made their way into the houses,
pillaged what they could find, and put to death the

rl'

A Premature Struggle.

267

Canadians and French who offered resistance. Hatred
and greed were alike satisfied, and the darkness of night
redoubled the horror of the conflict.

When morning dawned, the spectacle presented by
some quarters of the city was most terrible. Blood lay
clotted in tJie streets, dark spots stained the fronts of the
houses ; stiffened corpses lay heaped where the struggle
had been fiercest. The last musket-shots were being
exchanged and a tacit truce was concluded between the
contending parties, for each had many wounded to carry
away, and each was weary of the fierce and fearful fray.

George Malo, John Canada, Tanguy, and Halgan de-
voted the interval of quiet to the organization of their
new-made soldiers. Alas ! the deplorable circumstances
of the conflict left John Canada no hope of victory and
his only desire was to die nobly.

Montcalm's banner, which he had formerly kept shui
up in the clock-case of the Great Hut, and had treasured
during all his wanderings, was now folded around hig
robust form for he wished in death to press the lilies of
France to his heart.

John Canada's hastily-armed band occupied half th*
city ; its numbers were hourly increased, and the pre-
sence of danger called forth heroic self-devotion. A^
the French in Montreal well knew that after this revol*
their very nationality would expose them to adverse

measures from the

government.

The only means bj

which they could secure comparative impunity wii*
general and united action. A few conspirators migh«
have been put to death, but thousands of men could nol

258

John Canada,

be slain; the worst that could happen would be the
exile of those who should refuse to submit. All the
Canadians capable of bearing arms, therefore, rallied
round George Malo, Tanguy, Halgan, and John Canada,
who now prepared to meet the final attack of the
garrison.

Patira, bound by his oath to watch over Herve's
safety, had been unable to take part in the struggle of
that night. Bearing his beloved burden, he had gone
from street to street and from house to house to escape
from the storm as it came nearer and nearer.

If he could have confided Herv^ to friends able to
protect him, Patira would have returued and cast him-
self into the thick of the fight, but he knew no one in
the city, unless indeed Amy David ; for a moment he
thought of taking Herve to her house, but he felt that the
widow, who had long been looked upon with suspicion,
could not offer the child a safe refuge. Her daughter
had been imprisoned on a false and odious accusation,
and she herself might be arrested without warrant or
reason save that she was a Catholic and devoted to the
cause of France.

Patira's heart beat violently. Fresh from the horrors
of the revolution in Brittany he had found himself amid
the Indians, and now that he had narrowly escaped from
their savage cruelty he was cast into the bloody scenes
of a tumultuous popular rising.

During the night, avoiding the parts of the town
lighted up by torches and braziers, he had glided from
one narrow street to another. By morning he reached

':-) *

A Premature Struggle.

25&

tt quarter where death had done its terrible work ; this
quarter led to the port, and thither the youth in-
stinctively bent his steps.

The port was a town within the town. Vessels of
all nations were sheltered in the roads, and it contained
a cosmopolitan population of sailors compelled by their
duty to keep aloof from the contest, and living undei
strict discipline even in presence of the confusion an(f
bloodshed which filled Montreal.

Just as Patira was turning the corner of a square
where the pavement was red with blood, he saw, stand-
ing at the foot of a lamp-post, a woman whose tear-
stained face was raised towards the form of a short man
bound by the wrists to the lamp-post.

The miserable body seemed to be lifeless. 1 he heat
fell forward on the chest and the feet were motionless
Patira at one glance saw that the weeping woman was
Margaret and that the hanging body was that of her
father.

While the youth remembered that Jefferson had
sought to arrest John Canada and George Malo, he
could not forget that his brave-hearted daughter had
imperilled herself to save them all. Moreover, Jeffer-
son seemed to be quite dead. A red stain on his temple
betrayed a deadly wound and his livid hue left no doubt
that he had breathed his last.

Patira laid his hand on Margaret's arm and looked
towards the corpse.

" Oh ! give him back to me ! give him to me ! " cried
the young girl ; "at least let me lay him in the coffin."

260

e/bA/« Canada.

iJ^^^Bi

Pdtira placed Herv^ in Margaret's arms and with the
agility acquired in his early years, climbed to the iron
cross-bar, cut the rope, and slowly let the body sink
down stifE and heavy to the ground.

" What will you do now ? " he asked.

" My home is not far off," answared Margaret.

She knelt down on the pavement and bent over the
body, while Patira, pressing Herve in his arms, continued
his way towards the port.

The child, though greatly alarmed by the fearful
scenes which had passed before his eyes, restrained his
tears and asked no questions. He knew that Patira
would defend him from all peril. With one arm round
Patira's neck and his head resting on his shoulder, he
tranquilly wondered what was next to happen to him.

His protector had not formed any definite plan ; he
was anxiously considering what he should do, and await-
ing some token to guide him. While he was looking
at the mighty river on whose surface ships of six hun-
dred tons, brigs, sloops, and other vessels were rocking,
he saw a boat manned by two sailors draw towards the
shore. The faces of the men seemed familiar to him,
and presently they were near enough for him to recog-
nise them with certainty.

" Jacqueton ! '* he exclaimed ; " Quilenbois ! "
The sailors looked up and raised their woollen caps,
then quickly landed, moored their boat, reached the
quay, and asked Patira if Captain Halgan was well.

" The Captain is fighting," answered Patira, " the
city is in arms, blood is flowing in Montreal ; how

A Premature Strugfjle,

261

have you come here P God kuows what is before us.
If I have no fears for myself, I tremble for the child."

" The captain's grandson ! Never fear ! the seamen
love the pretty boy ! We have come here to take a pilot,
though indeed I ask you, what need of a pilot to go
down a river ? But the mate will have it so and we
obey, as in duty bound."

" Then the ship is near Montreal ? "

" She will be here this evening, riding among the
brigs you see yonder."

'* Quilenbois and Jacqueton," said Patira, " I have
no right to command you, but the Marquis of Coetquen
has entrusted Herve's life to me, and I can think of
nothing but the child. Whatever God wills, will happen
to us. I have not time to go on board the liady of
Gaul, but you will take Herve, and say these words to
the mate who is commanding in the captain's stead.
* To-morrow or even in a few hours we may be in need
of a place of refuge, and the Lady of Gaul would be
better than any other. Let her stand in the open river
far from the town, in readiness to put to sea, and pre-
pared for battle in case the English should press upon
us too closely. One of you will take Herve under his
special care and watch over him till we meet, the other
will return to the port with the largest of the ship's
boats and another man, and will wait night and day
for the Captain, the Marquis, or me. As a signal I will
sing the beginning of the air Antinigoz, and you will
answer me by going on with it."

" We shall remember the sign. Master Patira. 13 ut

262

John Canada.

if there is a commotion in the town and the Captain ir
in the midst of it, we had rather get our heads broken
in his service than wait here quietly."

" The time for fighting will come, you may be sure,"
said Patira, and he pressed Herve in his arms.

"Do not be afraid, do not cry, Herve," hb added. "Our
Lady will watch over you, and we will soon come back."

" I am not crying,'' answered the child ; " I am a
Coetquen, and father told me to be brave."

Quilenbois took him in his arms and went back to
the boat, and Patira stood on the quay watching, till it
was far out on the broad river.

As he had foreseen, the struggle which had slackened
towards morning now became m.-re desperate. Cries
of death were heard on all sides, shouts of * France ! '
and * England ! ' were intermingled, and bands of men
crowded where the tocsin called them or the beating of
the drum. The Canadians and Colonists who had long
borne an alien yoke, now uttered shouts of deliverance.
Flags were displayed everywhere, and men swore that
they would die rather than remain bowed down beneath
the hand of their conquerors. The name of Montcalm
rose high above all other cries, and the shade of the
hero seemed to hover over the city.

Swift runners had gone to summon the Indians from
the nearest villages.

John Canada, George Malo, Halgan and Tanguy
sought to control the outbreak which they could not
prevent. Their chief desire was to avoid the useless
shedding of blood.

A Premature Struggle.

263

But what could these few men do, now that passions
were aroused, that religion was deemed to be at stake,
and the French were turning fiercely on the enemy who
looked on Canada as his prey ?

Those who had begun the deadly struggle, could not,
even if they would, have drawn back ; they must needs
go on to the end. Liberty and life itself were at stake,
and any attempt to draw back would have involved the
sacrifice of thousands of brave men.

John Canada felt with despair that the premature
struggle had broken forth on his account, and that the
impatience of his people to shake off their chains might
only serve to rivet them closely for ever.

During all the morning, reinforcements were gather-
ing to the French side ; armed Canadians, ready to die
for their country and their faith, hastened in from all
points; but these warriors could not reach the city with-
out encountering the fire of the English.

The bravest came in boats and canoes, and the rest
encamped themselves before the city.

The military authorities of Montreal had at first
hoped to subdue the insurgents, but they soon learned
that their adversaries were not to be lightly dealt with.
Accordingly, the object of the English was, not the
slaughter of the greatest possible number of the French,
but the capture of the leaders who excited the masses
by appeals to their patriotism and their religious senti-
ments.

More would have been gained by the capture of John
Canada and George Malo than by the slaughter of

264

John Canada.

half the insurgents. John Canada was the soul, th^
head, and heart of the army ; if once their General
were taken, the English could easily get the better of
the troops.

Through many perils, Ptitira contrived to rejoin the
Marquis and his friends, who were in the middle of a
group of combatants drawn up in a narrow square, from
each of whose sides led a street, now filled with soldiers
and hastily- armed Englishmen.

Without hurrying, with the calmness of true courage,
the Canadians fired, stood the shock of the English
musketry, and reloaded their fire-arms. The wounded
knelt and took fresh aim. When a man fell, the rank
closed in again. Johix Canada's band might be utterly
shattered but it would never yield. While the warfare
was being wa^ed with various results in the different
quarters of Montreal, the compact body of men
gathered around George Malo and John Canada still
stood firm ; but while the ranks of the English were
constantly swelled by fresh recruits, this brave little
band was being gradually diminished as no new com-
batants arrived to take the places of the fallen. One
alone made his way through the smoke of the fire-arms,
and braving all danger rushed to the few remaining
warriors, and this was Patira on his return from the
port, after having given Ilerve into the safe keeping of
Quilenbois.

A diversion which might have led to a tardy victory,
gave the Canadians a short breathing time. A forco
composed of Colonists and Indians fell upon the rear

A Premature Struggle.

265

of the English with lances, tomahawks, and knives.
The surprise of the soldiers gave John Canada and his
friends a temporary respite, but regular troops soon
hastened on from every side, and no hope was left to
the little band.

" France forever !" cried John Canada, raising his
sword, " the English shall not take us alive ! "

" My lord," replied Patira, " our death will not save
the cause we have striven to defend. I can ensure your
iRafety and that of your friends ! "

"You?"

" Yes, my lord ; only make haste, and if you acccpl,
make vour way at any cost towards the river."

" There are still a hundred men here," said Coet-
quen."

** T know it, only induce them to consent to live."

Fi ar rows of Frenchmen at this moment fell beneath
the fire opened on them at once from the four sides of
the square.

" My lord," urged Patira, " do not give the soldiers
time to reload. Come ! Herve is waiting for you."

" Go," said John Canada, when he heard these words,
" it is all over with us and nothing can now save us."

Tanguy endeavoured to overcome the determination
of John Canada and George Malo ; both, however, per-
severed in their heroic resolution, and turning to Patira,
he said, " Ijet us remain here ; France forever ! "

A ball struck George Malo in the forehead, and with-
out uttering a sound be fell on a heap of corpses.

" George ! " murmured John Canada, "my son, my

266

John Canada.

friend ! " lie threw cIo'»vn his musket, took a sword,
rushed on towards the assailants, and fought with the
courage of despair. Tanguy and Halgan, one with a
musket and the other with an axe, made every effort to
defend him, but he was soon covered with wounds, and
the overwhchning force of numbers drove him and his
companions to the banks of the river; after performing
prodigies of valour, he was at length thrown backwards
into the stream, together with Patira who had rushed to
his assistance.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE ESdAPK.

Amy David was weeping bitterly with her face buried
in her hands. The last sounds of the battle came to her
cars, and her heart was fidl of the horrors of the past
day and night. Over and over again she had thought
that she would go down into the streets, nnd with com-
passionate charity seek to solace the wounded and to
bury the dead. But the time had not yet come when
it might be possible to perform these sad acts of mercy,
and she knew that until the evening any attempt to
leave the house would liave been probably worse than
useless, as by daylight she would have run the risk of
being recognised and arrested ; for herself alone she
would have little heeded the danger, but she thought of
Lucy, whom Margaret Jefferson had promised to sa^■c.

The Escape.

267

Alas ! at that very hour poor Margaret was herself
drinkiDg her cup of sorrows to its very dregs.

When she saw that her father was really dead, with
supernatural strength she managed to bring his lifeless
corpse to the little house beneath the lilacs, which was
at but a short distance from the lamp-post. Traces of
the battle, which had raged during the night, were
visible on every side ; the walls and the pavements were
stained with blood, and men were beginning to range
the dead bodies at the side of the street.

When Margaret reached the little garden in front of
her house, her strength was almost exhausted ; by a
last effort, however, she brought the rigid form into the
hall, laid it on the coucli, and placed a crucifix between
the hands as if in hopes that the holy symbol might
protect him who had in life rejected it. Then, having
lighted some candles, and sprinkled the body with holy
water, she sank on the floor, worn out in body and
mind ; her tears flowed freely, and her whole frame was
shaken with sobs, till at last she became utterly un-
conscious. When she came to herself again, it was
perhaps four o'clock in the afternoon ; the day was still
in all its glory. She rose from her prostrate position,
collected her thoughts, and decided on what must at once
be done, then went out of the house, shutting the door
behind her. The street was full of men who wcro taking
the dead away in carts ; Margaret went up to one of
them and proisenting her purse to him said, " I want a
coffin ; I am quite alone with my dead father,! beg you
to come and help me."

■^

268

John Canada.

" Was your father a Frenchman ? " asked the man to
whom she had spoken.

" His name is Jefferson/' she said almost in a whisper,
" Jefferson of the police."

" It is no fault of his if all the French and the Papists
are not dead or in prison. As it is for him, you may
depend upon everything being done."

The man slipped the purse into his pocket, and leaving
his comrades at work, went away, assuring Margaret
that he would soon be back. And in about half-an-
hour he appeared, with a coffin and two bearers.

" Oh surely you are not going to hurry him away at
once, without a clergyman and without mourners, to
the grave "

" Our orders are positive ; this man enters each death
in his books, and the corpses are taken at once to the
cemetery. In days like these, there is not time to attend
to each one in particular. If you know where your
father is laid, is not that enough ? We are in a hurry,
in a great hurry, my pretty girl."

Margaret made no reply. When Jefferson was laid
in the coffin, she pressed a kiss upon his forehead, and
then knelt in prayer while the men were fastening down
the lid. When they had finished this work they carried
the coffin between them on a sort of stretcher, and
Margaret followed weeping.

Many other funerals were passing the same way, many
of the dead were heaped in carts, and but few among
them had coffins, or were followed by any mourners.
Great trenches had been dug in the burying-ground.

The E-^cnpe.

269

and into these were cast indiscriminately friends and
foes, English and Canadians. A gravedigger pointed
to an open pit and Jefferson's coffin was let down into
it. Margaret had a cross put over the spot, and then
after a rapid prayer, left the cemetery and went towards
the prison. She knew that she must hasten if she
would keep the promise she had made to Amy David.
The death of Jefferson would soon be known and the
influence of his daughter would not long survive him.
Moreover Margaret thought that the prisons would
probably be crowded, and that Lucy's situation might
be completely changed ; the unnatural strength which
sustained her could not, she felt, last long, and she
wished to employ what still was left her in a work
which she prayed God to accept for the poor creature
whom she had just buried, and for whom she could not
but mourn.

Wrapped in her long cloak, and closely veiled, Mar-
garet knocked at the prison door. Mrs. Jones recog-
nised her, and with a cruel smile which chilled her to
the very heart, said, ** The house will be full to-night.
Frenchwomen and Papists are being arrested. Do you
think you can bring that little Lucy David back tr
reason ? "

" I am sure I can," answered Margaret

The young girl slipped the last piece of money she
had about her into the hand of the gaoleress, then
crossed the court and followed her to Lucy's cell.

The prisoner was working quietly. A devotional
book lay open before her, and showed that she had

270

John Canada,

sought peace in prayer. She rose up quickly and joy-
fully to welcome her visitor.

" It is late," said Mrs. Jones. " I shall only give you
half-an-hour."

" Very well/' said Margaret, gently ; " half-an-hour
will be enough for me."

The door was closed and bolted, and the young girls
remained alone.

Margaret raised her veil and Lucy saw that she had
been weeping.

"What is the matter?" she asked, "what is the
matter ? Oh ! Margaret, you are always helping and
comforting others, can nothing be done to relieve your
sorrow."

" One thing only, Lucy, obey me as if I really had
a right to command you, and promise never to forget

me.

" I owe you so much that it is impossible I should
ever do so ! "

" Alas ! " murmured Margaret, " I have scarcely re-
paired the harm done by another. Listen to me, I^ucy ;
moments are precious and the present opportunity will
never return — no report of what has been going on in
the city can have reached you. You know nothing !
nothing ! There was a terrible rising yesterday. There
was fighting between the Canadians and English ; the
one side fought with marvellous courage and the other
with fearful fury. The French, the Catholics, have
been conquered, and their leaders have fallen. George
Malo is dead, John Canada a prisoner or dying. You

The Escnpp.

271

ask me why I weep Lucy, my father is doad too ; T
am doubly a mourner. No one can foresee the conse-
quences of this revolt which has been quenched with
blood — I promised to give you back to your mother and
I will keep my word ."

Margaret unfastened her cloak and took off her veil
then coming close to Lucy said, " Wrap yourself up in
these things and as soon as the gaoleress comes for me,
follow her without a word. Once out of the prison, you
will be safe. Leave the country and. do not forget to
pray every day for Jefferson's daughter."

" Jefferson's daughter ! " exclaimed Lucy, shrinking
back, involuntarily, "the daughter of the man "

" Of the man who brought persecution and trouble
upon you. Yes, Lucy ! Alas ! I have had no part in
the deeds for which he has even now given an account
to God, and the day when I first crossed the threshold
of the prison I did not even know the nature of his
work in Montreal. Lucy, you know that I love you.
Before you reject me, remember that ray mother was an
Acadian ! remember that we worship at the same altar.
To save you is no act of self-devotion on my part, but
one of reparation. Alas ! I would fain undo, not only
for you, but for all, the harm that has been wrought by
another. Lucy, Lucy, do not you ;orgive me ? "

The two young girls embraced each other with sor-
rowful affection.

** Quick ! quick," said Margaret, " the turnkey may
come ; make haste and put on my cloak and veil."

"But you?" asked Lucy.

272

John Canada,

" I will stay here in your place."

" No, no, Margaret, that is impossible."

"And why?"

" I cannot accept such a sacrifice."

" Your mother is expecting you, Lucy."

" Can we not fly together ? "

" It is out of the question. But do not fear," con-
tinued Margaret, " when they find that their prisoner
is JefEerson's daughter they will remember all his ser-
vices and let me go free."

"And what wHl you do afterwards, poor Margaret?"

" I shall be able to find some convent that will take
me as a servant."

Lucy began to weep.

" Thanks ! " said Margaret, in a weaker voice ; " yes,
Lucy, I thank you for loving me still after the confes-
sion I have made to you. The memory of your last
kiss will be a comfort to me."

A heavy step was now heard in the corridor.

" The gaoleress is coming," observed Margaret, and
hastily fastened the cloak round Lucy's neck, then threw
the veil over her head and in firmer tones repeated,
** Your mother ! think of your mother ! " She seated
herself at the table with her back to the door, and
waited xnth. beating heart for its opening.

The lantern in Mrs. Jones' hand cast but a feeble light
through the cell, as after having drawn back the bolts
she entered. "Come," she said, hurriedly, "the house
is being filled with new prisoners, implicated in politi-
cal affairs, and I hardly know which way to turn."

The Escape.

273

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Lucy tottered, bent over Margaret, and clasped her
to her heart with many tears, then turned and followed
the gaoleress.

** Your young friend has every reason to fear, as
things are now going," said the woman ; " if she does
not change her mind a little, she is likely enough to be
transported with many more. But don't fret too much,
your father's great influence may save her. Besides,
Miss Margaret, you know I would do anything to serve
you."

At last the corridors were passed, and the court
crossed ; two wickets, and then the great gate were
shut behind her, and Lucy was in the street. Free !
she was free ! She leaned against the wall, tottering and
scared, hardly able to believe that it was really true.
A group of men approaching caused her fresh alarm.
She felt that her weakness and hesitation might attract
attention, so she began to walk.

Much had already been done to efface the tokens of
the fearful fight. The corpses had been removed, and
the pavement washed, and windows were being opened.
But patrols of soldiers were passing and repassing in
the streets, and prisoners were, here and there, being
taken from houses.

Lucy at last reached the street in which her mother
dwelt ; she saw the house where she had once lived
happily, where Amy was now waiting in sorrow for her
return, and, gaining strength from her joy, she rapidly
ascended the stairs, opened the door of the apartmenti
and fell on her knees before her mother.

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274

John Canada,

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" Mother ! mother ! " said she, " do not cry, here I
am ! I have come back to you by a kind of miracle.
We will leave Montreal, we will go wherever you like,
we will live on little or nothing, if only we can be
together."

Amy kissed her daughter's forehead over and over
again, looked at her, listened to her, weeping and
smiling at once. It was long before the two had com-
pletely opened their hearts to each other. When Amy
heard that M'urgpret was the daughter of Jefferson, she
pressed her child yet closer to her side, and said : " The
daughter is paying the father's debt ! "

Towards evening, thinking that they could safely
pass through Montreal, Lucy begged her mother to
leave their house which had already been pointed out
to the police. Lucy's escape could not long remain un-
known ; naturally the prisoner would be sought for at
her own Lome, and there would be no further hope of
deliverance.

" You are right," said the mother, " let us go.**

They hastily gathered some things together, and
went downstaii's. Where should they goP What
should they do P They knew not, but they trusted that
kind Providence which cares for the afflicted.

Wearied with wandering, they reached the port, as
if in hopes of at once finding means to carry out
their pui-pose of leaving Canada for ever. There
were few people about. Heaps of trunks, bags,
and packages formed a sort of wall between the two
▼omen and the river ; they sat down on a gneat bale

The Escape,

276

of goods and hand-io-hand leaned back and gave way
to the fatigue which overpowered them.

The sound of a voice which they had heard before,
aroused them from their torpor.

** Tou understand, Quilenbois/' said a young man in
undertones, ** you will come every evening to the
neighbourhood of the rapids of La Chine with a
good boat and three boatmen; perhaps we may
not come for more than a week, or perhaps we may
come this very night. Until God calls the heroic
soul of John Canada to Himself, the Captain and Mar-
quis Tangly will watch over him as if he were their
brother."

"Trust to me, Master Patira, Quilenbois will not
neglect his duty, and when the Captain and his family
are concerned we can never do enough."

"It might be well to prepare for a greater
number of passengers on board the Lady of Gaul ;
Halgan has given orders to receive French and Cana-
dian fugitives. The ship is to be a place of refuge."

Amy David and her daughter silently pressed each
other's hands, then they rose and came near to Patira
and the rough seamen.

" I have just heard your name," said Amy, " and
you perhaps may remember mine. On the day when
you first received John Canada's hospitality, a weeping
mother came to ask him to restore her daughter who
had been imprisoned by the English authorities. A
devoted woman has enabled Lucy to escapd ; but we
cannot hope for continued liberty. Hide us in your

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276

John Canada.

friendly ship. Take us to your Brittany, since New
France can no longer be our home."

Patira looked at the two women wilh a feeling of
deep compassion. " Follow these sailors/' he said ; " I
have just given them Halgan's orders ! '*

And you," asked Amy, " where are you going ?'*
I am going to receive John Canada's last breath,"
was his reply.

In a few minutes more, Amy and Lucy had reached
the Lady of Gaul which was riding at anchor hard by,
and Patira was on his way back to the village of La
Chine.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE MARTYR OF A GREAT CAUSE

In a hut dimly lighted by torches of pine-wood, a dying
man lay propped up on a bed of branches and sassafras
covered with a bear's skin. His head was bound up,
his face was deadly pule, but was still lighted up by the
brightness of his eyes ; the shirt which covered his
breast was stained with blood, and his arms bore the
marks of recent sword wounds. In spite of the loss of
blood and the fever caused by the numerous wounds, of
which at least one must have been mortal, the dying man
retained his presence of mind and energy. He had been
for two days in this hut ; from time to time he raised to
his lips a crucifix which was lying on the covering of the
bed together with a banner of white silk whose gold
embroidered lilies were almost hidden by stains of
blood.

The Mart If r of a Great Came.

277

The dying man was John Canada.

At the moment when the final effort of the English
soldiers had pushed him into the river, covered with
wounds and almost exhausted, Patira, whose self-de-
votion never failed or flagged, had thrown himself in by
his side. The enemies who had been pressing him so
closely left it to the river to end the career of the heroic
champion of Canada. These soldiers moreover, having
joined the struggle at a late period, did not even know
the name of their formidable adversary, for, although
John Canada's fame was far spread, few of the opposing
party knew him by sight.

Patira dived, seized his friend by the hair, and
swimming between two currents, managed to reach a
narrow tongue of sand on which the reeds grew high
and thick. The sounds of musketry, of shouts and savage
cries were still plainly to be heard; for a moment
Patira thought that a band of Indians led by Pierced-
Heart and Black Bison might still change the fortunes
of the day, but he was soon convinced that nothing but
complete defeat awaited his f ellow-countrjnnon. Kneel-
ing on the ground and bending over the wan brow of
the unconscious John Canada, he wept as he had wept
when spoilers invaded the Abbey of L6hon, or when
the emissaries of the revolution assassinated Father
Gu^thenoc.

He saw the troop of Abenaquis flee like dust before
the wind from the English, who did not venture to
pursue them when they took to their boats to return to
the village of La Chine.

278

John Canada.

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Then Patira said to himself, " There, where the
Ghreat Hut once stood, must I bear him whom I haye
known in all his power and popularity."

But John Canada gave no sign of life, and the youth
feared that the hero's eyes were closed in their last
sleep. He raised him up, bathed his forehead with
cold water, uncovered the breast in which gaped the
wound made by a dagger, and then with tearful eyes
waited, wondering what had become of Tanguy and
Halgan, and lavishing on John Canada, attention and
care which might perhaps be useless.

At last a sigh broke from the lips of the wounded
man ; he opened his eyes and looked at Patira with an
expression of terrible tnxiety.

" It has not pleased God to let Canada be free ? *' he
said, in a tone of inquiry.

** No one knows God's time ! " answered Patira

Silence, a dreadful silence, reigned between the two.
The sounds of combat became fainter as daylight faded
away ; night only could permit them to leave their place
of refuge.

Patira bound up John Canada's wounds, and then
said in a trembling voice, ** Kest a little longer, when
the darkness is deeper we will leave this thicket of reeds
and try to reach the bank of the river. Then, if you
are equal to it, we will go to the village of La Chine :
possibly some of your friends may have escaped from
the battle and have taken shelter there."

" Tes," said John Canada, " you are right, let us
aot lose an hour, or even a minute ; fever gives me

The Martyr of a Great Cause.

279

strength for the present. I would fain live to bid
farewell to all whom I have loved.

Patira helped the wounded man to rise, and leaning
on his shoulder, John Canada was able to stand. Very
slowly, but with marvellous energy, John Canada as-
cended the grassy slope, then leaning more and more
heavily on Patira, walked on silently with measured
iteps, often pausing to take breath. The sky was
lighted up with countless stars, and no sounds from the
city reached their ears ; a terrible silence had followed the
tumult of the day. The French inhabitants anxiously
waited the course of events, the few among them who
had not borne a part in the conflict knew that their
nationality would of itself make them objects of sus-
picion ; stem measures were to be expected from the
English conquerors, &ud banishment was likely to be
the portion of those v/ho had taken arms. Sad were
the thoughts which passed through John Canada's
mind as he saw that his twenty years of calm prepara-
tion were in vain, and that the cause to which he had
devoted his life was lost, probably for ever. His friends
had been wanting in the power which had so long sus-
tained him, the power of patience ! All the bitter
sorrows, the barren desolation, the suppressed tears and
the disappointed hopes of Canada seemed to fall on this
one man, who bore on his body and limbc many a
woimd from sword and musket, but the deepest of all
was in his heart.

It took the two wanderers more than three hours to
reach the village of La Chine. At first sight it seemed

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280

Jolm Canada.

to be completely deserted, but John Canada, who was
accustomed to forest life and whose senses were almost
as acute as those of the wild Indians, thought he heard
faint sounds betra3ring the presence of human in-
habitants.

Being unable to procure any other refreshment or
sustenance for the wounded man, Patira gave him some
water, then made him lie down, resting his head upon
his shoulder, and both soon fell into a heavy, dreamless
sleep.

John Canada was the first to open his eyes. A heap
of ashes, charred wood, and blackened posts, showed him
where his house had once stood. Patira had done well
in bringing him to die where he had lived as the father
and chief of the oppressed tribes, the consoler and hope
of the French who looked to their mother-country for aid
and support. Gratitude to the youth who still slumbered
at his side filled the heart of John Canada as he re-
cognised the river so well known to him in all its
turns, its rapids and islands, and the forest beneath
whose shade he had so often hunted in company with
his Indian friends.

By-and-by Patira awoke and looked anxiously at
John Canada.

" I am better, my boy," said the latter ; " you need
not be afraid to leave me for a few minutes. Seek some
empty hut in the forest and then help me to reach it,
I do not know, but I have a feeling that we are not
alone."

Patira left John Canada resting against the trunk of

The Martyr of a Great Cause.

281

a tree, and went on into the forest where the oak aLkd
maple shut out the sky. He presently perceiyed human
forms gliding amongst the tall grass, and anxious faces
peeping through the branches and underwood. He
was utterly unacquainted with the language of the
Algonquins, but he knew that the Indians woidd at
once respond to an appeal made in the name of their
friend and protector, so he turned towards the woodland
depths which seemed to offer a refuge to the Abenaquis
and Algonquins, and with all his might called out
" John Canada ! John Canada ! '*

The name acted like a magic spell. In a moment
Patira was surrounded by Indians, many of whom bore
traces of battle, and very soon Black Bison and the
Silver-haired maiden also joined him.

" My young brother is saved ! " said the Indian girl
clasping her hands in token of gratitude.

" John Canada is dying,'* answered Patira.

A groan burst from the breasts of the assembled
Indians.

" Will the young, generous-hearted warrior lead us
to him ? ** asked Black Bison.

Patira led them to the place where lay the champion
of Canadian liberty. They gazed sorrowfully and si-
lently on the hero ; grief was visible on every coun-
tenance. John Canada looked at the figures that circled
round him and then said in a tone of inquiry : " Halgan P
CoetquenP"

" The Pale-iaces tougnt like hons," said the Black
Bison.

282

John Canada,

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** Have they escaped death ? "

" The Great Spirit has protected them and they are
now with the Black- Kobe in the hut of Fierced-Heart,
who will soon go to the world of departed souls/'

John Canada made a sign to Patira, who readily un-
derstood his desire, but before going in quest of Halgan
and Tanguy, he wished to see John installed in the hut
whose door stood open at a little distance. A heap of
branches hastily cut, together with some furs formed a
bed for the dying man. One of the Indians brought
him some ears of com, another offered a gourd filled
with refreshing drink, his wounds were dressed afresh,
and then Patira bent his steps towards the hut where
the Pierced-Heart was expiring. This hut was
completely hidden by the trees, and the Indian wha
served Patira as guide pointed out to him several other
huts equally well concealed by the foliage and capable
of sheltering the Indians for a while from the English
forces.

For the present, however, those forces were fully
employed in putting down the insurrection in the city.
If the Indian allies of the French cause were to suffer
for their generous friendship, it would not be till later,
and indeed, while they remained in their forests, the
Bed-skins coidd laugh at all pursuers, being well aware
that the soldiers could never find the prints of their
light mocassins.

Patira and his Indian guide entered the warrior's
hut. Pierced-Heart was listening to Father Flavian's
words ; when he himself spoke, visions of the Christians'

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The Martyr of a Great Cause,

283

heaven were strangely mingled with descriptions of the
happy hunting-grounds of his forefathers. He talked
of the angels' songs and of endless wanderings through
the sacred forests ; but God saw into the depths of that
upright and heroic soul. Although the legends of his
lakes and the lessons of the Gospel were confusedly inter-
woven in his poor brain, he pressed his lips devoutly to
the crucifix which the missionary held before him. But
one thing seemed difficult to him at this solemn hour and
that was, to forgive. The Indian who has looked on
revenge, not merely as a pleasure, but as a duty, can
scarcely understand the precept which requires him to
pardon. Pierced-Heart still felt a kind of longing for
his scalping-knife, and would fain have seen fresh
trophies sewn around his tunic. Anger at his defeat
struggled in his mind with his desire to obey the Black-
Robe.

*' God sees the heart of his Eed children," he said
at last ; " Pierced-Heart has fought for the Pale-faces,
he is dying as a warrior should die, without complaining,
for he has lived as a brave man ; he prays the Black-
Robe to bless him and to take away from his soul every
stain that would offend the eye of the Great Spirit."

Father Flavian laid his two hands on the brow of the
Indian : " Let my son be at peace," he said, " let him
kiss the feet of his Saviour and say, ' I forgive,' and
then my God will receive him in mercy."

Pierced-Heart obeyed, he prayed in a low voice, and
then, looking at the missionary said, " The God of the
Pale- faces has spoken to me, the Black Robe will not

284

John Canada.

\*i

s ;

■ I

! I

-i-,- - "'-^19

' \- ' . »Hi

' pflll'

^ ■ --T-: - ^^Hr

Ijl jm|,

t!-. M K^ n^H

lay the scalps taken by the Indian in my tomb ; the
Christian asks for nothing but a cross."

Pierced- Heart fell back ; his spirit had passed away.
Then Patira came gently, close to Tanguy, Halgun
and the missionary, and told them that John Canada had
sent for them.

The body of the Indian was left under the care of
some of the young men of the tribe, while the old
chiefs followed Patira in sadness.

" My lord,'* said the youth to Tanguy, " now that
you see me, you know, do you not, that Herv4 is in
safety?"

" Yes, my trusted friend," answered Tanguy, " where
have you taken him ? "

••To the Lady of Gaul."

" Is she in the iiarbour ? "

" No, I was afraid of risking our last chance of de-
liverance, but I desired two of the sailors to cruise
about in the long boat. As soon as we can think of
embarking on board the ship, I will go and give them
the Captain's orders.*'

" Good ! " said Halgan, " good ! my boy ; this very
evening you must go and bid them leave Montreal and
join us here."

" I will do it," answered Patira.

The story of Tan guy's and Halgan*s deliverance was
then related to the youth. When the Indian bands led
by Black Bison and Pierced-Heart had succeeded iu
making their attack on the enemy, the two Frenchmen
who had fought like heroes and had seen John Canada fall

The Martyr of a Great Cnnse.

285

into the river, knew that the struggle for independence
had failed. Tanguy was bound to live for the sake of
his son, Herv^. He went with the Captain in an Indian
canoe to the village of La Chine and reached it just at
the time when Pierced-Heart had received a mortal
wound in the chest. Black Bison paid little heed to a
terrible gash in his arm. The Silver-haired maiden,
who had been saved by Black Bison, walked in the midst
of a company of warriors. The Indians had taken re-
fuge in the forest only a few hours before the .iT-rival of
Patira and his companion.

John Canada was able to smile wher he paw his
friends enter the hut. He leaned forward and sfretciied
out his Laada towards those wbom he could nevor hope
to f i^ again.

The Indian chiefs stood silent in the hut and Father
Flavian came close to the dying man's couch.

John Canada made an e£Port and said : "I have been
a proud man, Father ; I thought that God had chosen
me to be the deliverer of a nation. I took my own
ardent desire for the voice of Providence, and now, at
this solemn moment, I reproach myself for having en-
couraged vaiu hopes in many hearts, and for having
been the cause of so much bloodshed."

" God will judge your intentions, brother," answered
Father Flavian. " You have never sought your own
glory, your only aim has been the deliverance of an op-
pressed people and the triumph of your faith. It is
true that much blood was shed yesterday, but who can
say that that blood will not prove a precious seed ? Is

wmm

286

John Canada.

i ■ »?

it nothing to have kept the soul of a nation brave and
faithful for twenty years ? You have been amongst us
as a soldier- apostle. Your voluntary mission has often
been a help to mine. Do not let your lu st moments be
troubled by the fear of having done harm when you
purposed good. To me, you have been the very per-
sonificaticn of French and Catholic Canada. The
heart of your country beats in your breast. You
have always looked on this land, which was conquered
by Frenchmen, placed beneath the banner of the lily,
and defended by Montcalm — as French soil. Fear not !
my son. Your name may not indeed be handed down
to future ages, like that of our hero, but you have done
your work, you have cast the seed into the furrow, and
your noble death will complete the devotion of your life.
Every French heart, every friend or ally of France
blesses and praises you.'^

" I am about to die,'* said John Canada. " I want
naught but mercy."

" No ! no ! you will live ! " said Tanguy, taking the
dying man's hand between his own. " You will live,
and since a foreign yoke presses too heavily on Canada,
you will return to the land of your forefathers.

"France!" murmured John Canada, ** France "
and he lay still, absorbed in memories of the past.

When evening came, Patira left the village of
La Chine and went back to Montreal. The city was
silent as the grave. He went to the harbour, saw
Amy and Lucy David, and then Quilenbois and his
comrade. He gave the Captain's orders to the sailors.

The Martyr of a Great Cause.

287

tive and
>ngst us
AS often
icnts be
[len you
jry per-
The
. You
nquered
the lily,
ear not !
id down
Lve done
ow, and
our life.
France

' I want

;ing the

ill live,

lanada,

ice"
tt.
ige of
ity was
ir, saw
Ind his

lilors,

and having accomplished his mission, returned to thn
village.

John Canada's condition gradually became more
serious. He was fully aware of it, and with a soul
strengthened by the Last Sacraments, awaited his sum-
mons. His presence of mind and calm energy never
failed him, and in the intervals of comparative ease, he
spoke of those who had been the witnesses of his life.

" I have had but one passion and one love," he said.
" I devoted myself to it with all the enthusiasm of my
nature. I took my dream for a living reality. I be-
lieved that the French could re-conquer New France,
and ought to do so. God has not permitted it. But
who can understand His secret purposes ? What I
have been unable to do, may yet be done without me,
when I am gone. And if, at last, a day of glorious
liberty should dawn for Canada, all that we hoped and
longed for will be realized in generations yet to come.
Notwithstanding conquest, Protestantism, and English
rule, Canada will still be France ! Time and distance
may intervene, but the sons of a common country will
ever understand each other, and their hearts will beat
in unison. It may be that this premature and disastrous
struggle will be our last effort for freedom, but even
should my name be forgotten among men, I am sure
that the sun which shines on the Old World and on
the New, will ever shine on a France in each hemi-
sphere."

On the following day, the burial of Pierced-Heart
took piiice with a splendour at once religious and

288

John Canada.

warlike. Three other Indians also died of their
wounds ; their graves were made in front of the
Great Hut, around the maple-tree which had given
shelter to Patira, the Silver-haired maiden, and little
Herve, and were lined with fresh foliage and buJSalo
skins.

John Canada lingered on ; he made no complaint,
conversed sometimes with Father Flavian and some-
times with Tanguy, and spoke in their own tongue to
the Indians who gathered into the hut. His friend-
ship had for many a year watched over them, teach-
ing, counselling, and assisting them, and now with
persuasive sweetness he besought them to remain
true to their faith, even if separated from their mis-
sionaries.

The solemn composure which the Indians consider it
a point of honour to preserve, restrained any outburst
of grief on the part of those who had been shedding
their blood for the French cause. They made every
effort to be calm, but a cloud was on their brows, their
limbs trembled, and they looked sorrowfully at the
friend who was about to pass away from their
sight. Towards evening, on the second day, Patira,
who had been keeping watch near the hut, informed
the Captain that Quilenbois was waiting with the
boat.

Halgan drew near to John Canada's bed.

" The ship is at anchor, ready for us,** he said. " Let
us carry you on board. Though your wounds are
serious, we hope to save you. It has not been in your

The Martyr of a Great Cause.

289

cf their
t of the
ad given
md little
d bufEalo

omplaint,
nd some-
tongue to
!s friend-
m, teach-
low with
o remain
heir mis-

lonsider it
' outburst
shedding
ade every
)ws, their
y at the
)m their
Patira,
informed
nriih the

d. "Let
mds are
in your

power to free Canada from English rule, come and seek
the restoration of your health in your native air."

John Canada shook his head.

*' Nothing can save me," he replied.

Black Bison left the group of Indians amongst whom
he had been standing. With upraised face and hand out-
stretched towards the death -bed, he spoke in solemn tones,
turning sometimes to the dying man and sometimes
to his companions and these wer^? his words : " Our Pale-
faced brother has seen the number of his days fulfilled : he
will never leave the forest through which he has wandered
with the Bed -skins, he does not desire to depart far from
their villages. It is the custom for an Indian when he is
about to go to his fathers, to recount his past life in a
song of praise. Our friend and brother has never
taken pride in the good he has done, or the services he
has rendered. It is for the Indian to declare that he
was wise in council, and ardent in battle, and that as
long as a fire burns in the Indian wigwam, as long as
fathers teach their sons to wield arms and to respect
the laws, so long will the name of John Canada live in
their memories and on their lips. If the Great Spirit
does not allow him to remain amongst us, if He calls
him to Himself to give him his reward, let his grave be
made in Indian soil ; the children will go and pray there,
and there the young men wih ponder on the duties of
the warrior. The shadows of the maples and moss-
grown oaks will be dearer to John Canada than the
land in which he has not dwelt. Let him look upon
the Bed Children and read in their eyes; the tongue of

wm^m

290

Hohn Canada,

friends is not double and my lips have spoken what my
heart inspired."

" I thank you, Black Bison/' said John Canada,
" yes, here I have lived, here I ought to die.**

Patira, Tanguy, and Halgan saw that the wounded
man was growing weaker every hour. In one of the
intervals when he seemed to waken from the torpor
which had overcome him, he saw Nonpareille weeping
in heart-broken grief ; he gently called her to him and
with fatherly kindness said, " Civilized life suits you
better than savage life. Go to Europe with our friends,
who will soon bid a last farewell to New France ; God
has given you a companion of your own age who
will be a brother to you, unless he prays you to let
him bear a yet dearer name. Promise me that you
will go."

" No ! no ! ** answered the Silver-haired maiden, " I
oannot bear to leave you ! *'

** You will not leave me, Nonpareille, it is I that am
going away "

John Canada made a sign to Patira who oame near.

" There as here, always and everywhere, take care of
hec and love her,** he said.

"I solemnly promise to do so,** answered Patira,
taking Nonpareille's hand over the bed where John
Canada lay.

" And now," continued the dying man, speaking to
Tauguy, " you are going back to France — the scaffold
is cast down, peace will return, you will see the churches
rebuilt ; civilization, faith, commerce and the arts will

The Martyr of a Great Came,

291

flourish again. You are happy, you will see our coun-
try ! If people ask you of this distant land, say that
time and suffering will never quench its love for
France. Canada will always speak the old language,
Canada will always look to France as to her mother-
country. Teach those around you to love this distant
land, which though it has indeed been subjugated
is ever unchanged in soul ! And some day tell your
grandchildren that you loved the friend of Mont-
calm and saw him die." A spasm came over John
Canada and for a quarter of an hour he suffered
terribly, but he made no complaint and now and
then said in a low voice to Father Flavian, " Pray for

f "

His agony began. The missionary recited the beau-
tiful prayers by which the Church implores the mercy
of God for the departing soul. John Canada answered
in an audible voice. Nonpareille sobbed bitterly with
her face hidden in the furs which covered the couch,
and Patira could with great difficulty control his
emotion.

Father Flavian placed the crucifix for the last time
on the lips of Montcalm's comrade and said in a strong
Toice, *' Soul of a Christian and a soldier, go forth to
heaven ! "

An expression of sublime peace spread Itself over the
face of John Canada, the cross remained between
his fingers, but Nonpareille took possession of a doubly
precious relic, the French banner saved at the battle
on the plains of Abraham. She pressed it wildly to

292

John Canada,

Aer breast, then remained weopiug with her arms
stretched out upon the bed, until Patira came to lead
her away from the desolate hut.

" Nonpareille has lost her second father ! " she said ;
" T^onpareille can only die ! "

" Will not the Daughter of the Forest obey John
Canada and come with her young brother?" The
Daughter of the Forest made no answer, but let her
hand fall into Patira's.

The hero, whose name is now unknown, was laid in
his grave on the following day. His memory has lived
on among those legends which live in the hearts of
men, which are repeated in the bark-roofed hut around
the evening fire, and serve to throw light on many an
obscure passage of history.

He was buried beneath the great oak trees, opposite
the Bapids of La Chine, where he had saved the lives of
Halgan and Coetquen. A great cross was raised over
his grave and Patira carved upon it the name " John
Canada."

There was nothing now to keep Tanguy, Patira, and
Halgan in a country where civil war was raging. They
knew that peace had been restored to France and they
all longed to be back in Brittany. The night after
the burial of John Canada, accompanied by the Silver-
haired maiden they went, in the boat which Quilenbois
had in readiness, to the Lady of Gaul, and without
waiting for a pilot, for delay might have exposed
them to observation, they set sail and proceeded
down the river. The river soon widened so that

The Muina of Coeiquen.

298

er arms
i to lead

16 8uld ;

3y John

' The

let her

I laid in
as lived
earts of
around
lany an

pposite
lives of
sd over
John

ra, and
They
d they
t after
3ilver-
enbois
ithout
posed
seeded
that

its opposite shores were no longer visible and the
eyes of the voyagers rested on a vast nnbroken expanse
of water.

CHAPTER XX.

THE RUINS OF COETQUEN.

From the stagnant waters of the lake of Coetquen rise
heaps of ruins, and on its banks, one fine autumn
evening, wandered a thin and poorly-clad woman, vrhoBe
long fair hair fell like a veil over her face as from time
to time she stooped down to the ground, and when she
suddenly raised herself rolled back in heavy golden
masses whose beauty contrasted strangely with her rags
and her wan, pale countenance.

Three children were with her, the two youngest held
on to her skirts and the eldest walked with serious air
at her side, every now and then raising a pair of large
grave eyes to her face. The woman who was still
young, held her rosary in her hands and paused at
every broken fragment of the ruined Calvary, and
knelt at every spot where once had stood a fair image
of our Lady.

As she walked barefoot along the dusty roads, she often
interrupted her Hail Marys, fell on her knees, and prayed
in words so strange that all who heard her believed that her
mind had lost its balance, then rose up with frightened
mien, clasped her little ones to her breast and repeated

294

John Canada.

amidst many tears, " It is not their fault, Good Lord
Jesus ! It is not their fault ! Let not the blood that
has been shed be upon my innocent children ! Gwen,
Noll, and Frances have never offended Thee, Lord !
let them be under the protection of the angels ! The
burden that I bear is too heavy for them."

When the poor creature passed by a farm-house,
the women would run out to her with eager com-
passion, bring her in and make her sit down in
the great comfortable kitchen, where the dressers
were bright with shining crockery, and buck-wheat
cakes, slices of bacon, and pitchers filled with foaming
cider, stood on the long table in the middle. She would
eat as she felt inclined, without any care for hanger to
come, and then with a bend of the head equivalent to a
thanksgiving, would go her way, pointing to her
innocent children and murmuring, " It is not their
fault ! no, it is not their fault ! "

And the goou wives of Brittany would answer, " The
sins of John Anvil will never be visited on Claudia or
the sweet little angels who follow her weary steps."

For weeks and months she wandered thus, crazed
with grief, with the incendiary fire and the scenes of
murder ever before her e5'^es ; unable to forget the
fearful tragedies she had witnessed. Something had
given way in her brain and in her heart, Claudia the
fair had become crazy Claudia. On the evening of
which we are speaking, chance had brought her to the
ruins of the Castle of Coetquen. Fire and pillage
had left a shapeless, dark mass of ruins, which cast a

The Ruins of Coetquen

295

'od Lord

lood that

Gwen,

Lord !

s! The

n-house,
er coin-
own in
dressers
k-wheat
foaming
le would
mger to
ent to a
to her
)t their

, "The
ludia or
ps.

crazed
lenes of
ret the
tig hud
dia the
ling of
' to the
piUage
L cast a

dismal shadow on the water. The double girdle of blue
which had once encircled the Castle no longer reflected
the white and golden water-lilies ; the wild flowers which
had adorned a floating garden were now buried beneath
heaps of rubbish. The ruin was wild and gloomy, and
the young woman gazed at it with more attention than
she was wont to bestow on objects before her. The
children were rolling on the grass quite near her ;
occasionally she cast a rapid timorous glance at them
and then relapsed nto her own sad meditations.

All at once she roused herself and raised her head ;
a hand was laid on her shoulder, and a broken voice
said, " The owners are coming back, the owners ot the
Castle of Coetquen, where Blanche Halgan suffered her
martyrdom. I hear the steps of the Breton nobles on the
soil that belongs to them ! but the owl hoots in the
ruins, the lizard is gliding over the burnt stones, the
raven is flying over the manor where the wolves of
Coetquen spoke words of deadly threat. The noble
Tanguy, whom I have seen as a child playing in his
nurse's arms, will not cross the drawbridge ; the Blue
Child who was born in the dungeon beneath the
Round Tower, will not enter the feudal mansion as its
heir »

" It is not the fault of the innocent children, no
indeed, it is not their fault ! " murmured Claudia ; " my
feet are bleeding from the stony roads, tears are flowing
from my eyes, I pray constantly to the Mother of
Sorrows, but the angel of pardon comes not, the angel
of pardon will never come ! "

296

John Canada.

" Hush, Claudia ! " said Jennie the Spinster, stretch-
ing out her withered hand in the direction of the road.
" I know which way the wind hlows. I divine the
future from the flight of the raven, and if I would, I
might gather that golden herb which brings smiles ;
far, far away I hear the step of the horse that is bear-
ing back to his domain, Tanguy Marquis of Coetquen,
Baron of Vaurufier and other lordships."

Claudia took to her beads again and seemed to
understand nothing of the prophetical words spoken by
Jennie.

At this moment, however, the predictions of the
old woman, whom the neighbours credited with the
gift of second-sight, were confirmed, as the sound
of wheels and of the gallop of a horse came nearer and
nearer.

A few minutes brought carriage and horse within
view of the manor, and Jennie hastening up to the
travellers as they set foot on the ground, exclaimed, with
her bony arms upraised towards heaven, " Welcome
Coetquen ! Tanguy of Coetquen I "Welcome to the land
which is your own ! '*

The gentleman thus addressed started back in surprise,
but a youth sprang to the old woman's side, clasped her
hands in a transport of joy and cried out, " Jennie !
dear Jennie ! "

" Patira I '* answered the old woman.

" And here is Herve, the Blue Child whom I took
first to the Bwarfs' Qrotto and then to your cottage,
dear old mother ; you ptiid dearly for the welcome you

The Ruins of Coetquen.

297

gave him ! ** Patira turned to the Marquis of Coetquen,
'* My lord," he said, " my lord, it was Jennie the
Spinster who helped me to save your boy."

" Blessings on her ! God only can reward her for
the good she has done. Patira> as she took care of my
boy, I will now in my turn take care of her — I mean
her old age to be happy."

" I will accept your favours fcr her, my lord, for
Jennie would refuse them."

" Holy Virgin," repeated the kneeling Claudia,
" surely the innocent children are not to blame ! "

Patira exclaimed aloud, '* Claudia ! Claudia ! Gwen,
Noll, Frances, don't you know ine ? "

John Anvil's widow turned her troubled gaze to
Patira, tottered, stretched out her hands, fell back and
with a groan which seemed to come from a broken
heart, said " It is himself ! It is himself ! "

The youth knelt down in the grass, then looking full
in the face of her who had loved and protected and de-
fended him, he said with a tone in which authority and
aftection were mingled, " I am no longer a child,
Claudia, but a man ; I am ready to undertake any work
that God gives me to do ; I have shared your bread, I
will labour to support ''•ou and your little ones."

" It is the same ! " answered Claudia; " Patira whom
I found poor and weak and half -naked on the road-side ;
Patira whom I would have cherished as I cherish these
innocent children. Blessed be God who has brought
him back ! Dreadful things have been done, do you
know P — ^You see my tattered garments are black — ^It

298

John Canada.

is mourning, deep mourning — God knows what has be-
come of his soul — Have you forgiven, Patira ? "

" I have forgiven him, Claudia, and you have
prayed."

While Patira was speaking to Claudia and Jennie the
Spinster, the Silver-haired maiden had drawn near.
As she stood in the full light of the brilliant sunset
with her shining hair falling like a veil from her
graceful head, she seemed the very personification of
one of those mysterious, unearthly beings, of whose
existence, notwithstanding her Christian faith, Jennie
was firmly persuaded.

" Look well at her," said Patira, drawing the timid
Nonpareille towards Jennie, "she is a child of the
American forests, a daughter of the distant land whence
we have now come. A great brave man gave her to
me for a sister."

" She will be your reward," said Jennie, gravely,
" your life will flow sweetly on at her side, the affection
of this child will repay your devotion to the Coetquen
family."

While Jennie, Claudia and Patira were talking to-
gether, Halgan and the Marquis silently passed over the
ruined drawbridge, and made their way into the court-
yard of the castle. All the woodwork of the ancient
edifice had been completely devoured by the flames,
the door of entrance to the Round Tower was gone,
and some steps of the winding staircase which led
to the dungeons below were visible, though it was
soon lost in the deep obscurity. Tanguy lighted

The Biiinft of Coetquvn.

299

(That has be-
•a ? "
you have

i Jennie the
irawn near,
liant sunset
I from her
lifi cation of
J, of whose
aith, Jennie

? the timid
lild of the
and whence
^ave her to

e, gravely,

e affection

Coetquen

talking to-
d over the
the court-
le ancient
le flames,
vas gone,
vhich led
h it was
lighted

dark-lantern with which he had provided himself, cast
its ray upon the dismal descent and said to the Captain,
" Come !"

Halgan followed the steps of his son-in-law down
the stairs. The two were soon in a narrow passage, a
yawning opening before them showed the place where
a door had once been. They went through the opening.
A wooden bedstead covered with a little straw, stood in
a corner, a pitcher and a little stool lay on the floor.
Through the narrow window >vith its twisted iron bars
could be seen the water of the lake which when swelled
by the winter's rain or snow would flood the dungeon,
and a narro . nip of sky in whose midst shone a bright
star.

" Father! father ! " said Tanguy, falling on his knees
before the wretched couch where Blanche of Coetquen
had so often wept herself to sleep, " this is the place in
which your daughter suffered her martyrdom. You
gave her to me, full of beauty and of joy, and in my
very house she underwent an agony of many months.
Oh father ! father ! I have wished to ask your pardon
in this dungeon where she groaned and called upon me
though I could not hear her."

Halgan stood leaning against the wall, with his face
turned towards that poor bed. He was sobbing bitterly,
and though he had never flinched from any danger, he
was now trembling from head to foot. But he was too
just to deem the Marquis of Coetquen responsible for the
irreparable calamity which had overshadowed their
lives. He knew that his daughter's husband had

300

John Canada.

himself sought death when he believed that Blanche
had gone to another world. He stretched out his arms
and cried, "Tanguy ! Tanguy ! " and the two men em-
braced each other and wept.

A clear, sweet voice at the other side of the
lake now began to sing the ballad of the " Lady of
Coetquen!"

The song had a sort of magical power to evoke the
visions of the past. One of the saddest scenes of the
terrible tragedy rose before the minds of Tanguy and
Halgan. The burden of this song had often served to
let the poor prisoner know that Patira was about to
cross the lake. Then Blanche would rise from her bed^
and clinging to the iron ^ars, while Patira kept himself
floating on the water by means of his raft of rushes,
she would speak to him of Tanguy, and implore him,
poor ill-used boy as he was, to protect her little
treasure.

** See, father," said the Marquis of Coetquen, point-
ing to two shattered iron bars, " by this opening Patira
saved my child ; he took Herv^ bathed in Blanche's
tears, protected him, cared for him, and at last restored
him to my arms. I must weep, for we are in a tomb,
but I will also bless God, for He has given me my boy
to bind me to L'fe."

" Come, Tanguy," said the Captain, " we will return
here again, and we will make a chapel in which you and
I alone will pray.*'

They went up the narrow stairs, passed through the
courtyard, crossed the ruined drawbridge, apd then

The Rums of Coetquen.

301

it Blanche
at his arms
TO men em-

of the
Lady of

> evoke the
Bnes of the
anguy and
i served to
3 about to
n her bed^
pt himself
of rushes,
alore him,
her little

Bn, point-
ag Patira
Blanche's
restored
a tomb,
my boy

1 return
you and

ugh the
>d then

slowly, as if bowed down by the heavy weight of sad
memories, rejoined Jennie the Spinster, Claudia, and
Patira.

P.vira, with Herve on his knees, was finishing the
last verses of ** The Lady of Coetquen."

Tanguy pressed his boy to his heart. The memory
of the terrible dangers that had here beset that young
life called forth all his tenderest affection. Then he
drew Patira, whose eyes were full tears, to his side.
"Here," he said, "within sight of the Round Tower
where Blanche of Coetquen suffered, I adopt you as
Herv^'s brother. If I have not power to leave you my
name, T have every right to treat you with the affection
of a father, and to swear to you, once a poor lonely child,
and then a brave, devoted hero, that henceforth my for-
tune is yours and that I am ready to love those who are
loved by you."

Patira did not withdraw from Tanguy's embrace.

At that moment the heart of the nobleman and that
of the imknown youth, who had once been the victim
of John Anvirs cruelty, were alike melted by gratitude
and affection. The adoption of Patira was sealed by
the innocent Herv6 who twined his arms round his
neck and said to Tanguy, " I loved my friend a great
deal, but I will love my brother even more."

Nonpareille stood by, with her arms folded on her
breast, gazing at the group formed by Tanguy, Halgan
and Patira ; a melancholy snodle played on her lips and
she seemed to wonder whether there was room for her
in the family circle. Patira divined her thoughts,

?02

John Canada.

took her trembling hand, and drew her towards Halgan
and Tanguy, gently saying, " By-and-by !"

Halgan and Tanguy now turned to Claudia and
Jennie. "You too," said Tanguy, "have claims on
my gratitude. Jennie, who gave Patira her goat to
provide milk for Herve, may ask what she will from
Tanguy of Coetquen. But you will not ask anything,
Jennie, I know ; only you will not refuse me one
request. A comfortable, healthy house shall be built
for Claudia and her children, you will live there with
the poor soul, who may, please God, be restored to health
by a little quiet and comfort. Take this purse for
Claudia, Jennie ! good faithful Jeanie ! and with it the
heartful thanks of a father who owes you iiis most
precious treasure."

The old woman fell on her knees, kissing his hand
and saying, ' Blessed be God that the old owner? return
to their lands ! the wayside cross will be raised up, and
the name of Coetquen will not die out."

Patira again embraced the children, and after an
affectionate farewell to Claudia, got into the carriage
with the other travellers, and soon all were rapidly
proceeding to Dinan.

The towers of the Castle which had witnessed
Blanche's agony were never rebuilt ; the fortune of the
Lords of Coetquen seems to have been very seriously
impaired by the Revolution of '93, but the Captain was
rich enough to restore the ancient splendour of the
family, and although the Marquis did not think of
settling again in Brittany, he resolved to visit his

i. 'ii'ij -a^t

irds Halgan

laudia and
5 claims on
ler goat to
e will from
k. anything,
ie me one
ill be built
there with
id to health
purse for
with it the
1 iiis most

The Ruins of Coetquen. 303

ancestral estates everyyear, and to make a sad pilgrim-
age to the scenes of his past happiness.

Herv^ remained to him ; Herv^, the living image of
Blanche, and he enjoyed the devoted attachment of two
young, warm-hearted and gifted creatures, Patira and
the Silver-haired maiden, the foster-child of Montcahn's
friend.

' his hand
lers return
ed up, and

I after an
e carriage
e rapidly

witnessed
me of the
seriously
ptain was
ir of the
think of
visit his