CHAPTER IX.
LOVE AND POLITICS.
"Calm with the truth of life, deep with the love of loving, New, yet never unknown, my heart takes up the tune. Singing that needs no words, joy that needs no proving, Sinking in one long dream as summer bides with June."
One morning, three weeks later, Rose, on getting up and going out to thesunny yard where she kept her fancy breed of fowls, found them allovercome by some strange disorder. The morning was bright and inspiring,yet they were all sleeping heavily and stupidly under, instead of upon,their usual roosting-place.
She waked up one or two, ran her fingers through their showy plumage,and, after receiving remonstrating glances from reproachful andrecognizing eyes, softly laid them down again, and turned her attentionto a resplendent red and gold cock, who alone had not succumbed to themysterious malady, and was staggering to and fro, eyeing her with adoubtful, yet knowing look.
"Come, Fiddeding," she said, gently, "tell me what has happened to thesepoor hens?"
Fiddeding, instead of enlightening her, swaggered towards the fence,and, after many failures, succeeded in climbing to it and in proppinghis tail against a post.
Then he flapped his gorgeous wings, and opened his beak to crow, but inthe endeavor lost his balance, and with a dismal squawk fell to theground. Sheepishly resigning himself to his fate, he tried to gain theranks of the somniferous hens, but, not succeeding, fell down where hewas, and hid his head under his wing.
A slight noise caught Rose's attention, and looking up, she found Joviteleaning against the fence, and grinning from ear to ear.
"Do you know what is the matter with the hens?" she asked.
"Yes, madame; if you come to the stable, I will show you what they havebeen taking."
Rose, with a grave face, visited the stable, and then instructed him toharness her pony to the cart and bring him around to the front of thehouse.
Half an hour later she was driving towards Weymouth. As it happened tobe Saturday, it was market-day, and the general shopping-time for thefarmers and the fishermen all along the Bay, and even from back in thewoods. Many of them, with wives and daughters in their big wagons, wereon their way to sell butter, eggs, and farm produce, and obtain, inexchange, groceries and dry goods, that they would find in largerquantities and in greater varieties in Weymouth than in the smallervillages along the shore.
Upon reaching Weymouth, she stopped on the principal street, that runsacross a bridge over the lovely Sissiboo River, and leaving the staidand sober pony to brush the flies from himself without the assistance ofher whip, she knocked at the door of her cousin's office.
"Come in," said a voice, and she was speedily confronted by Agapit, whosat at a table facing the door.
He dropped his book and sprang up, when he saw her. "Oh! _ma chere_, Iam glad to see you. I was just feeling dull."
She gently received and retained both his hands in hers. "One often doesfeel dull after a journey. Ah! but I have missed you."
"It has only been two weeks--"
"And you have come back with that same weary look on your face," shesaid, anxiously. "Agapit, I try to put that look in the back of my mind,but it will not stay."
He lightly kissed her fingers, and drew a chair beside his own for her."It amuses you to worry."
"My cousin!"
"I apologize,--you are the soul of angelic concern for the minds andbodies of your fellow mortals. And how goes everything in SleepingWater? I have been quite homesick for the good old place."
Rose, in spite of the distressed expression that still lingered abouther face, began to smile, and said, impulsively, "Once or twice I havealmost recalled you, but I did not like to interrupt. Yours was a caseat the supreme court, was it not, if that is the way to word it?"
"Yes, Rose; but has anything gone wrong? You mentioned nothing in yourletters," and, as he spoke, he took off his glasses and began to polishthem with his handkerchief.
"Not wrong, exactly, yet--" and she laughed. "It is Bidiane."
The hand with which Agapit was manipulating his glasses trembledslightly, and hurriedly putting them on, he pushed back the papers onthe table before him, and gave her an acute and undivided attention."Some one wants to marry her, I suppose," he said, hastily. "She isquite a flirt."
"No, no, not yet,--Pius Poirier may, by and by, but do not be too severewith her, Agapit. She has no time to think of lovers now. She is--buthave you not heard? Surely you must have--every one is laughing aboutit."
"I have heard nothing. I returned late last night. I came directly herethis morning. I intended to go to see you to-morrow."
"I thought you would, but I could not wait. Little Bidiane should bestopped at once, or she will become notorious and get into thepapers,--I was afraid it might already be known in Halifax."
"My dear Rose, there are people in Halifax who never heard of Clare, andwho do not know that there are even a score of Acadiens left in thecountry; but what is she doing?" and he masked his impatience under anadmirable coolness.
"She says she is making _bombance_," said Rose, and she struggled torepress a second laugh; "but I will begin from the first, as you knownothing. The very day you left, that Mr. Greening, who has beencanvassing the county for votes, went to our inn, and Bidiane recognizedhim as a man who had spoken ill of the Acadiens in her presence inHalifax."
"What had he said?"
"He said that they were 'evil-smelling,'" said Rose, with reluctance.
"Oh, indeed,--he did," and Agapit's lip curled. "I would not havebelieved it of Greening. He is rather a decent fellow. Sarcastic, youknow, but not a fool, by any means. Bidiane, I suppose, cut him."
"No, she did not cut him; he had not been introduced. She asked him toapologize, and he would not. Then she told Mirabelle Marie to requesthim to leave the house. He did so."
"Was he angry?"
"Yes, and insulting; and you can figure to yourself into what kind of astate our quick-tempered Bidiane became. She talked to Claudine and heraunt, and they agreed to pass Mr. Greening's remark up and down theBay."
Agapit began to laugh. Something in his cousin's strangely excitedmanner, in the expression of her face, usually so delicately colored,now so deeply flushed and bewildered over Bidiane's irrepressibility,amused him intensely, but most of all he laughed from sheer gladness ofheart, that the question to be dealt with was not one of a lover fortheir distant and youthful cousin.
Rose was delighted to see him in such good spirits. "But there is moreto come, Agapit. The thing grew. At first, Bidiane contented herselfwith flying about on her wheel and telling all the Acadien girls what abad man Mr. Greening was to say such a thing, and they must not lettheir fathers vote for him. Following this, Claudine, who is veryexcited in her calm way, began to drive Mirabelle Marie about. Theystayed at home only long enough to prepare meals, then they went. It isall up and down the Bay,--that wretched epithet of the unfortunate Mr.Greening,--and while the men laugh, the women are furious. They cannotrecover from it."
"Well, 'evil-smelling' is not a pretty adjective," said Agapit, with hislips still stretched back from his white teeth. "At Bidiane's age, whata rage I should have been in!"
"But you are in the affair now," said Rose, helplessly, "and you mustnot be angry."
"I!" he ejaculated, suddenly letting fall a ruler that he had beenbalancing on his finger.
"Yes,--at first there was no talk of another candidate. It was only,'Let the slanderous Mr. Greening be driven away;' but, as I said, theaffair grew. You know our people are mostly Liberals. Mr. Greening isthe new one; you, too, are one. Of course there is old Mr. Gray, who hasbeen elected for some years. One afternoon the blacksmith in SleepingWater said, jokingly, to Bidiane, 'You are taking away one of ourcandidates; you must give us another.' He was mending her wheel at thetime, and I was present to ask him to send a hoe to Jovite. Bidianehesitated a little time. She looked down the Bay, she looked up heretowar
ds Weymouth, then she shot a quick glance at me from her curiousyellow eyes, and said, 'There is my far-removed cousin, Agapit LeNoir.He is a good Acadien; he is also clever. What do you want of anEnglishman?' 'By Jove!' said the blacksmith, and he slapped his leatherapron,--you know he has been much in the States, Agapit, and he is verywide in his opinions,--'By Jove!' he said, 'we couldn't have a better. Inever thought of him. He is so quiet nowadays, though he used to be afirebrand, that one forgets him. I guess he'd go in by acclamation.'Agapit, what is acclamation? I searched in my dictionary, and it said,'a clapping of hands.'"
Agapit was thunderstruck. He stared at her confusedly for a few seconds,then he exclaimed, "The dear little diablette!"
"Perhaps I should have told you before," said Rose, eagerly, "but Ihated to write anything against Bidiane, she is so charming, though soself-willed. But yesterday I began to think that people may suppose youhave allowed her to make use of your name. She chatters of you all thetime, and I believe that you will be asked to become one of the membersfor this county. Though the talk has been mostly among the women, theyare influencing the men, and last evening Mr. Greening had a quarrelwith the Comeaus, and went away."
"I must go see her,--this must be stopped," said Agapit, rising hastily.
Rose got up, too. "But stay a minute,--hear all. The naughty thing thatBidiane has done is about money, but I will not tell you that. You mustquestion her. This only I can say: my hens are all quite drunk thismorning."
"Quite drunk!" said Agapit, and he paused with his arms half in a dustcoat that he had taken from a hook on the wall. "What do you mean?"
Rose suffocated a laugh in her throat, and said, seriously, "When Jovitegot up this morning, he found them quite weak in their legs. They tookno breakfast, they wished only to drink. He had to watch to keep themfrom falling in the river. Afterwards they went to sleep, and hesearched the stable, and found some burnt out matches, where some onehad been smoking and sleeping in the barn, also two bottles of whiskeyhidden in a barrel where one had broken on some oats that the hens hadeaten. So you see the affair becomes serious when men prowl about atnight, and open hen-house doors, and are in danger of setting fire tostables."
Agapit made a grimace. He had a lively imagination, and had readilysupplied all these details. "I suppose you do not wish to take me backto Sleeping Water?"
Rose hesitated, then said, meekly, "Perhaps it would be better for menot to do it, nor for you to say that I have talked to you. Bidianespeaks plainly, and, though I know she likes me, she is most extremelyanimated just now. Claudine, you know, spoils her. Also, she avoids melately,--you will not be too severe with her. It is so loving that sheshould work for you. I think she hopes to break down some of yourprejudice that she says still exists against her."
Rose could not see her cousin's face, for he had abruptly turned hisback on her, and was staring out the window.
"You will remember, Agapit," she went on, with gentle persistence; "donot be irritable with her; she cannot endure it just at present."
"And why should I be irritable?" he demanded, suddenly wheeling around."Is she not doing me a great honor?"
Rose fell back a few steps, and clasped her amazed hands. Thistransfigured face was a revelation to her. "You, too, Agapit!" shemanaged to utter.
"Yes, I, too," he said, bravely, while a dull, heavy crimson mantled hischeeks. "I, too, as well as the Poirier boy, and half a dozen others;and why not?"
"You love her, Agapit?"
"Does it seem like hatred?"
"Yes--that is, no--but certainly you have treated her strangely, but Iam glad, glad. I don't know when anything has so rejoiced me,--it takesme back through long years," and, sitting down, she covered her facewith her nervous hands.
"I did not intend to tell you," said her cousin, hurriedly, and he laida consoling finger on the back of her drooping head. "I wish now I hadkept it from you."
"Ah, but I am selfish," she cried, immediately lifting her tearful faceto him. "Forgive me,--I wish to know everything that concerns you. Is itthis that has made you unhappy lately?"
With some reluctance he acknowledged that it was.
"But now you will be happy, my dear cousin. You must tell her at once.Although she is young, she will understand. It will make her moresteady. It is the best thing that could happen to her."
Agapit surveyed her in quiet, intense affection. "Softly, my dear girl.You and I are too absorbed in each other. There is the omnipotent Mr.Nimmo to consult."
"He will not oppose. Oh, he will be pleased, enraptured,--I know that hewill. I have never thought of it before, because of late years you haveseemed not to give your thoughts to marriage, but now it comes to methat, in sending her here, one object might have been that she wouldplease you; that you would please her. I am sure of it now. He is sorryfor the past, he wishes to atone, yet he is still proud, and cannot say,'Forgive me.' This young girl is the peace-offering."
Agapit smiled uneasily. "Pardon me for the thought, but you disposesomewhat summarily of the young girl."
Rose threw out her hands to him. "Your happiness is perhaps too much tome, yet I would also make her happy in giving her to you. She is sorestless, so wayward,--she does not know her own mind yet."
"She seems to be leading a pretty consistent course at present."
Rose's face was like an exquisitely tinted sky at sunrise. "Ah! this iswonderful, it overcomes me; and to think that I should not havesuspected it! You adore this little Bidiane. She is everything to you,more than I am,--more than I am."
"I love you for that spice of jealousy," said Agapit, with animation."Go home now, dear girl, and I will follow; or do you stay here, and Iwill start first."
"Yes, yes, go; I will remain a time. I will be glad to think this over."
"You will not cry," he said, anxiously, pausing with his hand on thedoor-knob.
"I will try not to do so."
"Probably I will have to give her up," he said, doggedly. "She is acreature of whims, and I must not speak to her yet; but I do not wishyou to suffer."
Rose was deeply moved. This was no boyish passion, but the unspeakablybitter, weary longing of a man. "If I could not suffer with others Iwould be dead," she said, simply. "My dear cousin, I will pray forsuccess in this, your touching love-affair."
"Some day I will tell you all about it," he said, abruptly. "I willdescribe the strange influence that she has always had over me,--aninfluence that made me tremble before her even when she was a tiny girl,and that overpowered me when she lately returned to us. However, this isnot the occasion to talk; my acknowledgment of all this has been quiteunpremeditated. Another day it will be more easy--"
"Ah, Agapit, how thou art changed," she said, gliding easily intoFrench; "how I admire thee for thy reserve. That gives thee more powerthan thou hadst when young. Thou wilt win Bidiane,--do not despair."
"In the meantime there are other, younger men," he responded, in thesame language. "I seem old, I know that I do to her."
"Old, and thou art not yet thirty! I assure thee, Agapit, she respectsthee for thy age. She laughs at thee, perhaps, to thy face, but shepraises thee behind thy back."
"She is not beautiful," said Agapit, irrelevantly, "yet every one likesher."
"And dost thou not find her beautiful? It seems to me that, when Ilove, the dear one cannot be ugly."
"Understand me, Rose," said her cousin, earnestly; "once when I loved awoman she instantly became an angel, but one gets over that. Bidiane iseven plain-looking to me. It is her soul, her spirit, that charmsme,--that little restless, loving heart. If I could only put my hand onit, and say, 'Thou art mine,' I should be the happiest man in the world.She charms me because she changes. She is never the same; a man wouldnever weary of her."
Rose's face became as pale as death. "Agapit, would a man weary of me?"
He did not reply to her. Choked by some emotion, he had again turned tothe door.
"I thank the blessed Virgin that I have been spared that sorrow,"
shemurmured, closing her eyes, and allowing her flaxen lashes to softlybrush her cheeks. "Once I could only grieve,--now I say perhaps it waswell for me not to marry. If I had lost the love of a husband,--a truehusband,--it would have killed me very quickly, and it would also havemade him say that all women are stupid."
"Rose, thou art incomparable," said Agapit, half laughing, halffrowning, and flinging himself back to the table. "No man would tire ofthee. Cease thy foolishness, and promise me not to cry when I am gone."
She opened her eyes, looked as startled as if she had been asleep, butsubmissively gave the required promise.
"Think of something cheerful," he went on.
She saw that he was really distressed, and, disengaging her thoughtsfrom herself by a quiet, intense effort, she roguishly murmured, "I willlet my mind run to the conversation that you will have with this fairone--no, this plain one--when you announce your love."
Agapit blushed furiously, and hurried from the room, while Rose, as anearnest of her obedience to him, showed him, at the window, until he wasout of sight, a countenance alight with gentle mischief and entirecontentment of mind.
Rose à Charlitte Page 32
