Читать книгу The Crimson Sign - H. A. Cody - Страница 9
ОглавлениеAN ACADIAN CLEOPATRA
All the inhabitants at the Oromocto were standing upon the bank eagerly and anxiously watching the war canoes as they swept up river. They were only about fifteen people, mostly women and children, as the few men able to fight had gone with the raiding expedition. And had they come back? That was the question now in the minds of the wives and the children as they stood there with eyes fixed intently upon the rapidly-approaching flotilla. Through long weeks they had waited and prayed for the safe return of their loved ones. They knew of other expeditions that had gone forth, and some of the men had not come back. So now that the canoes were near, what news would they bring?
A little apart from the others stood Madame Louise D'Armours. She spoke to no one, and her face showed no sign of emotion. She might have been watching some canoes besporting themselves upon the river for all the interest she seemed to show. But this silent woman was keenly alert to all that was taking place. Every minute she expected the canoes would turn shoreward, and either ringing shouts of victory or war cries of anger would rend the air. But as the crafts kept on their way and no salutation was given, she understood, and a glow of satisfaction appeared in her eyes. Villebon's raiders had been defeated, and she was glad. It was some compensation for the lies he had told Count Frontenac about the D'Armours. She longed to see the commander and gloat over his consternation when the war party reached the fort on the Nashwaak and reported their failure.
So taken up was she with this thought that she hardly noticed when one canoe detached itself from the others and headed for the shore. But when it touched land and the women and children ran down to meet it, Madame Louise stepped forward. She was not concerned about the welcome the men were receiving, for her eyes had caught sight of someone seated in the bottom of the canoe. At first she imagined she had not seen aright, or what she beheld was only a vision. But as she looked at Helen Garland a feeling of awe came into her cold heart. And there was reason for this. The captive was no ordinary girl. Strength of mind, dignity and refinement were plainly stamped upon her face of outstanding beauty. Her long dark unbound hair flowed in rippling waves over her cheeks and shoulders. Her mouth, in calm repose now, was expressive of sweetness and laughter. All this Madame Louise quickly noted. But it was the girl's eyes which held her spellbound. They were questioning eyes, guileless as those of a child, silently appealing for help. For a moment the heart of the staring woman upon the bank was strangely moved. The sight of this girl stirred for a few fleeting seconds the faint flickering embers of nobleness and purity within her soul. This was quickly succeeded, however, by the spirit of envy. She realised that the captive possessed something which she herself could never have again. It angered her, and a desire entered her heart to make this girl like herself.
At Gabriel Sorrell's order, Helen Garland rose to her feet and stepped ashore. She was much cramped from sitting so long in the canoe, and she swayed a little from weakness. Noticing this, Madame Sorrell placed an arm tenderly about the girl's body. She was repaid with a grateful smile, and a firm white hand clasped her own, hardened and rough through toil. In this woman the girl knew she had a friend, and the thought comforted her burdened heart.
Madame Louise in the meantime was talking with Gabriel, asking him questions about the captive. When she learned who she was, her interest increased. Here was no common girl, but the daughter of a noted English commander. She thought of the officers at the Nashwaak, and of others who occasionally came to the river from Quebec. What effect would this girl have upon them? Hitherto she herself had been the object of their attention and admiration. They had been fascinated by her charms, and she was known as the most beautiful woman in Acadia. Now, however, she would have a rival, and in her mind she could see her own light dimmed in the presence of this new luminary. Beautiful women were rare in Acadia, especially in the great region along the Saint John. The fame of this English girl would soon be known in Quebec, and officers would find no end of excuses for visiting the river. They might come even from Port Royal. A fierce jealousy burned in her heart as she thought of these things while listening to Gabriel.
"It was well that the girl fell into my hands, Madame," he declared. "If Foulette had captured her, Mon Dieu! But I have kept her safe, though it was hard work at times."
"Did Foulette try to get her from you?"
"He did, and I almost laid my hands upon him once. If it hadn't been for Villieu I do not know what I should have done."
"Ah! So Villieu was friendly to the girl?"
"He was, but not like Foulette. He only wanted to save the girl from harm. Villieu is an honorable man, and after the way he helped me I won't listen to a word against him."
"But Villebon doesn't like him, Gabriel. He feels he is not to be trusted."
"I don't know anything about that, Madame. All I know is that Villieu acted very honorably towards this English girl."
All had been listening eagerly to this conversation except Helen Garland, as she did not understand a word that was being said. She was very tired, weak and lonely. But for the presence of Madame Sorrell she felt that she could endure no more. Her nerves were strained to the breaking-point. She longed to hear her own language. But all around her spoke in another tongue.
And while she stood there, wondering what would happen to her, a boy came limping forth from the rear of the assembled people. He was about ten years of age, and he advanced timidly as if afraid of his boldness. His face was pale and careworn, his clothes old and in tatters, and his feet were bare. But all these were at once forgotten by the brightness of his eyes. They were filled with an intense eagerness as he approached the girl. All were watching him, wondering what he intended to do. When a few feet away, he stopped and looked up into the captive's face. He then took a step nearer, reached out a trembling hand and touched her dress, as if she were some divine being. But when a smile illumined Helen's face, his awe vanished and his eyes grew bright with joy.
"Are you English?" he asked in a quivering voice.
At the sound of these words Helen Garland started and looked keenly and hopefully into the boy's face.
"I am. Are you?"
"Yes, and I am 'young English' here, but my right name is David Hardy. I was captured by Indians over three years ago, and have been with the French ever since."
"What place is this?" Helen inquired. "And who is that beautiful woman?"
"This is the Oromocto, and that woman is Madame Louise D'Armours, who owns a great deal of land. Her husband died after the attack upon the Nashwaak Fort. We all work for Madame now."
Madame Louise was becoming impatient at this conversation which she could not understand, although she heard her own name mentioned. She told Gabriel and his wife to take the girl to their house, and she sent the rest away, except David whom she ordered to remain. As Helen listened to her stern voice, and caught the cold gleam in her eyes which were fixed upon her, a new fear came into her heart. She intuitively knew that this woman was her enemy, and wondered why. She longed to ask David more about her, but there was no opportunity. Silently she walked by the side of Madame Sorrell along the little path which wound its way among the trees. In this woman, anyway, she had a friend, and that meant a great deal to her just then.
Madame Louise stood watching the girl until she disappeared among the trees. She then turned to the waiting lad.
"Young English, what did that girl say to you?"
"Not much, Madame, for there was little time. She asked the name of this place, and your name, too. She said, 'Who is that beautiful woman?'"
"It could not have been me she meant, young English. It must have been Madame LeRocher. I am not beautiful."
"But you are, Madame, the most beautiful woman I ever saw."
"More beautiful than that English girl?"
David looked quickly up, and his pale face flushed with embarrassment. Young though he was, he understood this woman better than she imagined. Three years of captivity had schooled him in the art of subtlety and evasion. To save himself from extra abuse he had outwardly seemed to hate the English end the religion of his own people. He had united with the others in their rejoicing when any news of French victories had been received. But in his heart he was English, and the hope of escape from his bondage was seldom out of his mind.
And besides this, he was well aware of the duplicity of Madame Louise and those around him. While pretending to be loyal to the commander at the Nashwaak, they were constantly working against him in their letters of complaint to Count Frontenac, as well as in their illegal fur-trading with the Indians.
At Madame Louise's question, however, he became confused. The sight of Helen Garland had thrilled his very being, and stirred to a flame the spirit of loyalty to his own race. The shallow veneer of pretence disappeared, and he was again the honest lad he had once been. How could he lie with the thought of that beautiful girl in his mind? By the side of her Madame Louise seemed ugly.
The woman noticed his embarrassment, and frowned.
"I understand, young English," she coolly said. "You are afraid to speak the truth. But, never mind. I cannot blame you. I am getting old, I know."
"But you are very beautiful still, Madame," David hastened to assure her. "Only, only, that girl is different. She seems like the Holy Virgin whose picture you have in your house. She looks so good."
Madame Louise stared at the boy as a new idea flashed into her mind. She then smiled upon him, and her whole nature appeared to change.
"You are right, young English. That girl is like the Holy Virgin. She is so good that I desire to be like her. And I want you to help me."
"How, Madame?"
"By being much with her, listening to what she says, and then telling me. You see, I have lived so long in this rough country that I have almost forgotten what fine ladies say and do. But that English girl knows. She has lived all her life with people of great importance, so she understands their ways and what they talk about. And, then, as she is so good I want to learn the secret. You must find all this out for me, but she must never know that I have asked you to do it. She might be frightened, for very good people are so timid about telling of their goodness."
David's eyes were now big with wonder and joy.
"Do you mean, Madame, that I am to be much with the English girl, and talk with her?"
"That is what I mean. I know you can be trusted, and I shall let you off from work in the fields while she is here if you do what I say. And there is something else. As that girl is so good and beautiful, people from the fort will most likely come to see her. You can tell me who they are, and what they say to one another about her."
"When shall I go, Madame?"
"In the morning. The girl is very tired now, so she will need to rest. She will be glad to talk with you, as you are the only one here who can speak English. So go, now, and finish your work in the field. I may have something more to say to you in the morning."
David limped away, happier than he had been since his capture three years before. Madame Louise had spoken kindly to him. The English girl's influence must have made the change, so he imagined. But had he known the thoughts of the silent woman standing motionless upon the bank, his heart would not have been so light.
