Читать книгу The Mac's of '37 A Story of The Canadian Rebellion - John Price-Brown - Страница 5
ОглавлениеTHE TRIP ON THE TRANSIT.
They were notable people that the Transit carried out upon Lake Ontario that glorious afternoon. Captain Jerrold had sent a cordial invitation to the Lieutenant-Governor and his friends; thus affording his Excellency a favorable opportunity for a special meeting of the leading members of his Council, to consider certain important political problems which were then demanding the most serious consideration at his hands. At the same time it afforded the ladies the privilege of an outing upon an armed steamer, something much prized by the fair sex in those early days.
"Let my Cabinet have the forward saloon to ourselves for an hour," said Sir Francis, confidentially buttonholing the Attorney-General as soon as they had passed the island. "I have something important to communicate. The Captain has promised that we shall not be disturbed; and we might meet at once."
"Very well, sir. I see the Solicitor-General talking with Col. Fitzgibbon, and yonder are Sheriff Jarvis and some others."
"Have them all come."
For a few moments the Governor talked to the ladies, and then, followed by the other gentlemen, he led the way to the saloon.
"I'm going to make the most of my opportunity," said Stuart to Marie with a laugh, as the door closed upon the last man, "for Sir Francis says that I may be sent for before their session is over."
"Possibly they may want to intrust you with state secrets," replied Marie, carelessly; "I suppose gentlemen enjoy such things."
"Some do," was the rejoinder, "but it is the intervening hour that I prize. They won't want to discuss matters of importance with a subaltern."
"Still you might have something to communicate."
"Perhaps the incidents of the journey from the ocean westward," he replied.
"You came up the St. Lawrence?" said Marie, her interest increasing.
"Yes, by Prescott and Kingston and the Thousand Isles."
"The Thousand Isles! One of them is my home."
"Which one has that honor, Miss MacAlpine, may I ask?"
"Fingal's Notch," was her prompt answer.
"Fingal's Notch!" he exclaimed, in a tone of astonishment.
"What of it? Does it surprise you?" she asked, turning her eyes enquiringly upon him.
"Rather—well—not exactly," he returned, gathering himself together again. "There are so many of them—and all so picturesque—you can scarcely tell one from another."
"That's because you are not familiar with them. When a child I paddled among them so much that I learned to know each one by name; and no two of them are alike."
"You paddled, you say; not by yourself?"
"Yes," she replied with a low musical laugh, "why not?"
"Of course, you may well ask, 'Why not?' I am displaying my ignorance of your Western ways."
"Miss MacAlpine is a skilled canoeist," remarked Jessie, in vindication of her friend. "Many a time has she paddled across the bay to the island and back."
"Only during holidays, though," said Marie; "Bradley School regulations forbid it during term."
"But term being over, I should like to see how you do it," was his response.
"See her do what, Lieutenant Stuart?" exclaimed their hostess, who happened to catch the last words.
"See her paddle her canoe all the way across this beautiful bay of yours," he replied, with a dramatic sweep of his arm.
"That's something I never heard of," said Lady Head, in a tone of mingled surprise and disapproval. "It is certainly a dangerous thing for any girl to attempt. It cannot surely be true."
"I confess, Madam, that it is true," said Marie, merrily. "And I shall be sorry not to do it again. I go away so soon."
"Why not prolong your stay for that very purpose?" suggested Stuart in a lower key, as her ladyship passed on with a deprecatory shake of the head at Marie.
"Because in two days my father will be here for me."
"There might still be time for another paddle if to-morrow would do," he suggested.
"But I have my packing and a hundred other things to attend to."
"If you could manage it, I would gladly help you," said Jessie.
"If I do attempt it you must come, too," said Marie, with a smile. "College girls travel in pairs, Mr. Stuart. Miss Stedman and I always go together."
"The complement of each other."
"Yes," said Jessie quickly, "the blond and brunette of it; almost the long and the short of it."
"Would you really care to go?" Marie asked, looking at her friend.
"I always did like the bay, and being unexpected, the pleasure of another paddle would be all the greater," she replied.
"Well, Jessie, say three o'clock. I will send Ned down to the boathouse and be ready in good time."
"And to make the trip secure against misadventure," volunteered Stuart, "I will have a boat ready to man at a moment's notice; and from the quarter-deck shall watch with a field-glass the venturesome ladies while they traverse the mighty deep."
"That will be fine," commented Mrs. Hagarman, the Attorney-General's wife. "Not many ladies are honored during their voyaging by the guardianship of a British-man-of-war."
"Scarcely that," laughed Stuart. "The Transit is only an armed frigate."
"It's a man-of-war, all the same," said Lady Head, emphatically, "and may have fighting to do before it leaves the lakes."
"If that time comes, the Transit will be true to her colors and her cause," said Stuart, "ever ready for duty."
Marie's face was grave again. She was looking out beyond the island to the far east. Talking of unrest and fighting and war vessels, even in bantering tones, troubled her. What did it all mean? There was more than a possibility of tumult. Rebellion was whispered of—rebellion that might shake the colonies to their centre. How would it affect her father and brothers, her home among the islands, herself? Was all this pleasantry and kindness and courtesy merely a prelude to devastation, to the breaking up of associations and friendships and life that had become a strong part of her new nature? Was this the reason why her father had so peremptorily directed her to return home? Why was the letter so stern? Might he not have been kinder in his demand? She would not think of disobeying him—dear old father—and having been away so long, the mere mention of his wish would have been law.
She was leaning over the railing, forgetful for the moment of all about her, while the talk continued. Suddenly Jessie's arm was slipped within her own.
"Dear old girl," she murmured, "what were you thinking of?"
Marie started.
"Was I thinking?" she exclaimed; "I am afraid that I am not very polite."
"Yes, you were thinking about leaving Toronto and school and everything. I could read it in your face, Marie, like an open book—I was thinking of it, too, and I believe I'm as sorry as you are."
"Sorry and glad, both. Sorry to leave you all and the life; glad to be home again. Still there's something haunts me sometimes—strange paradox—the memory of the future. But I won't give way to it."
And she turned round with laughing face to answer a question from Lady Head; while Stuart was asking himself how much he could conscientiously conceal, when Miss Marie was Donald MacAlpine's daughter?
