Chapter 3: Friendly Foes.
Quebec was taken; it had surrendered without a blow when once thebattle upon the heights above had ended in the overthrow of theFrench army.
Julian and Fritz exchanged glances of wonder when it was knownbeyond all doubt that the capitulation had been signed. It wasmarvellous to them, who knew the full peril of their own position,that the French should be so blind. A concerted attack from the twoarmies of the immediate locality could scarcely have failed todrive them from their vantage ground back to their ships; and oncethere, the Admirals would have had no choice but to put to sea oncemore; for already the season was closing, and it would then havebeen madness to think of any further operations for that season.
And yet sadness rather than joy was the main feeling in the heartsof these comrades as they prepared themselves to be of the numberto march into the city.
Fritz was still somewhat lame from the effect of his wound; but hissplendid physique had made light of the injury, and in otherrespects he was sound and strong. Humphrey walked beside him,giving him a little assistance over rough ground, and Julian was onhis other side. They were full of curiosity to behold the citywhich it had cost them so much to take, and Fritz was anxious tofind again those friends who had shown him kindness in past days.Julian, too, was very desirous to meet Madame Drucour once more,and renew with her those pleasant relations which had commencedwithin the fortress of Louisbourg.
Townshend, the Brigadier now in command, had granted easy terms tothe place. He knew too well the peril of his position not to bethankful for having Quebec almost at any price. The garrison andthe sailors, who formed a considerable portion of the force in thecity, were to march out with the honours of war, and were to beshipped to France with what speed they might. The promisedprotection offered by Wolfe to all peaceable inhabitants was to beassured to all, together with the free exercise of their ownreligion.
To Townshend had been carried upon the very day of the capitulationa letter written by Montcalm only a few hours before his death, thefeeble penmanship of which showed well how difficult it had been tohim to indite it. In effect it was the last thing he ever wrote,and the signature was nothing but a faint initial, as though thefailing fingers refused the task before them.
"Monsieur," ran the missive, "the well-known humanity of theEnglish sets my mind at peace concerning the fate of the Frenchprisoners and the Canadians. Feel towards them as they have causedme to feel. Do not let them perceive that they have changedmasters. Be their protector as I have been their father,"
It was probable that Montcalm believed himself addressing Wolfewhen he wrote this last charge. It was not known with any certaintyin Quebec that the English General had fallen, Some had heard hewas wounded, but no certainty prevailed. Indeed it was with noexultation that Quebec heard of the death of the dreaded Wolfe. Ifhe were redoubtable in the field of battle, he was known to be amerciful and generous foe in the hour of victory. Madame Drucourhad shed tears when told for certain of the hero's fall; the Abbehad sorrowfully shaken his bead, and had told the citizens thatthey had nothing to rejoice over in that.
So the garrison marched out with as much bravery and martial showas they could under the circumstances, and the citizens crowded thestreets and ramparts to cheer them as they went, and watch withmingled feelings the entrance of the English troops into the townand the hoisting of the English flag. Sobs broke from many, and adeep groan rose shudderingly upon the air; and yet there were verymany in the city who cared little for the change of masters, ifonly they might be rid of the horrors of war.
Life had long been very difficult under the French rule. So muchofficial corruption existed, especially in the matter of suppliesof food and other necessaries, that the unhappy people were forcedto pay double and treble value for almost everything, and werebeing slowly bled to death, that a few functionaries like Bigot andCadet might fatten and grow enormously rich. They had begun to knowthat the English colonies were very differently governed; that theygrew in strength and independence, and were encouraged, and notthwarted and hindered, in their internal development. Although muchsmaller in extent than Canada, their population was double that ofthe French colony. It was indeed the growing strength andprosperity of the English provinces which had excited the jealousanimosity of the French, and had quickened their resolve to penthem in between mountain and sea, and hinder their development. Andthis resolve had been followed by the commencement of that borderwarfare to which this was the sequel.
England knew better than let herself be penned within narrowlimits. She had broken through the bonds which held her back. Nowshe was mistress of the key and capital of Canada. It could only bea matter of time before the whole colony fell to her.
"It may be better for them in the end," said Madame Drucour,heaving a long sigh as she watched the departure of the garrison,and saw the scarlet uniforms of the English flooding the streets ofQuebec, "And yet it is hard to see it. I knew it must come, but myheart is heavy within me. If only we had made a more gallant fight,I should have felt it less."
"There he is! there he is!" shouted Colin suddenly; "there is FritzNeville!"
"Ah," cried Madame Drucour, with a quick look of pleasure, "andthere is Monsieur Julian Dautray too! Get speech with them if youcan, Colin, and bring them to supper at our house. There is much Ishould like to ask them; and if some of the officers are to bebilleted amongst us townsfolk, I would gladly have those two tocare for."
"I'll go and see about it," cried Colin.
"Take us with you," cried the midshipmen, who had viewed theprocession with swelling hearts, uttering now and then a Britishcheer, which mingled oddly with the sighs of the people. However,since they had cheered the retiring troops as lustily as their owncountrymen, no one took this amiss. Indeed the young middies hadmade themselves popular in the town by this time, and had donesomething to promote a feeling of confidence in the goodwill andclemency of the victors.
Corinne and her aunt returned homeward. The girl was in a state ofgreat excitement, sorrow for the regret of others mingling with herown secret triumph and joy in the victory of the English.
It was no use trying to disguise from herself that she was glad theEnglish had prevailed. She had come to have a contempt and distrustof the French and their ways and their rule. She admired theEnglish, and believed in them. They had shown courage andresolution and heroism--had accomplished a feat which had hithertobeen deemed impossible. She was proud of the British blood runningin her veins, and was ready to welcome the victors with all herheart.
So she decked the supper table with green leaves and grasses, and afew flowers culled from the convent garden, where it had not beentorn to pieces by shot and shell. The viands were not veryplentiful, it is true, since scarcity still prevailed in the city;but that would come to an end now, for the English were alreadymaking arrangements for throwing in ample supplies.
Then she ran upstairs to don her best holiday gown, feeling awonderful rebound of spirit after the depression and anxiety andhorror of the past days. She sang a little to herself as sheflitted about her room, and was only just ready when she heardColin's voice from below summoning her to come.
She ran down the staircase and glided into the supper room, to findit (as it seemed) quite full of company. It was too dusk todistinguish faces by that time, but Bonnehomme Michel appeared atthe moment, bringing in two lamps, and the faces of the guests wereinstantly revealed to her.
Her face lighted as she met the friendly glance of Fritz Neville,and she extended her hand with a pretty welcoming grace. The nextminute she found herself exchanging greetings with an officer inBritish uniform, a dark-eyed, dark-haired man, with a veryclear-cut, handsome face. Nor did it surprise her to hear that thiswas Captain Dautray, who had played a romantic part in the siege ofLouisbourg.
"My aunt, Madame Drucour, has often spoken of you, sir," she said,"and told us how you disguised yourself and adventured yourselfinto the heart of the enemy's fortress. In sooth, I wonder youcoul
d ever dare such a deed. Suppose you had been found out?"
"Then I should have been shot as a spy, I do not doubt," answeredJulian, "and should never have known the pleasure of making theacquaintance of the brave Madame Drucour--'Madame le General,' asshe was called in Louisbourg--nor of being presented in Quebec toMademoiselle her niece."
And as he spoke he bowed over Corinne's hand and raised it to hislips.
The girl blushed and smiled. Such a salute was not uncommon inthose days, and there was nothing free in Julian's manner; indeedthere was a grave dignity about him which distinguished him inwhatever company he found himself, and his recent military traininghad done much to increase the natural advantages which had alwaysbeen his.
The remaining guest, who was a stranger to her, was presented asHumphrey Angell, and she looked with quick interest at him,recollecting how Fritz had told her the tale of that terribleIndian raid, and how he had found the two brothers, almostdistracted by anguish and despair, amid the blackened ruins oftheir once prosperous settlement. This was the brother of thestrange, wild-looking man whom she and Colin had seen in the forestlong, long ago, and who had perished in the hour of vengeance. Howinteresting it was, she thought, to see all these men of whom shehad heard and thought so much! She let her glance wander from oneface to the other, and she was not ashamed of the feeling of keenadmiration which awoke within her.
The three midshipmen were also of the company. Discipline had beensomewhat relaxed in the hour of battle and victory, and they hadobtained leave of absence from their ship for a while. Colin hadbrought them back for a farewell repast. They seemed almost likesons of the house by this time; and they had brought with them,from one of the provision transports, a supply of good victualswhich had made Bonnehomme Michel's eyes shine and her wrinkledvisage beam.
The scent of coffee pervaded the house, and soon a savoury messsuch as had not been seen for long upon that table was set down,and the guests, in excellent spirits, took their places. Corinnefound herself seated next to Julian, with Arthur on her other side.The Abbe took the foot of the table, and Madame Drucour the head.She looked pale and grave, but showed a gentle dignity and courtesyof bearing which was very impressive; and everyone showed her allpossible deference.
Corinne spoke to Julian in a low voice.
"I want to ask of your General, the great Wolfe. Were you with himwhen he died?"
"Yes, Mademoiselle; he died in my arms. I have had the honour ofcalling myself his friend for above a year."
At that word Madame Drucour looked up and said:
"Ah, let me hear of Monsieur Wolfe! I had hoped to see him againmyself. Such a hero, such a sweet and courteous gentleman!Frenchwoman though I be, I could have welcomed him as the victor ofQuebec!"
All listened with deep attention as Julian related in considerabledetail the story of the last hours of Wolfe, and Madame Drucourwiped her eyes many times during the recital.
"Ah! if he had but lived to see the city of his hopes, I wouldmyself have been his nurse, and would have brought him back tohealth and strength.
"You smile, sir; but yet I have seen much of sickness. You willhear that the doctors themselves give me the credit for saving manylives."
"I can believe it, Madame; indeed I have seen something of thatskill with mine own eyes. But, alas! I fear that the case of ourfriend was beyond human skill. I think that, had he had the choice,he would have chosen to die as he did in the hour of victory. Towear out a life of suffering in uncongenial inactivity would havebeen sorely irksome to his unquenchable spirit; and yet, after thehardships through which he had passed, I misdoubt me if he couldever have taken the field again. He would have endured the periland pain of another long voyage only to die upon shipboard, or athis home if he lived to reach it. The hand of death was surely uponhim."
"And to die in the hour of a glorious victory is surely a fittingclose to a hero's life," said Corinne softly to Julian, when thetide of talk had recommenced to flow in other quarters. "But tellme, does he leave behind many to mourn him? Has he parents living,or sisters and brothers, or one nearer and dearer still? Has he awife in England?"
"Not a wife, Mademoiselle, but one who was to have been his wifehad he lived to return, and a mother who loves him as the apple ofthe eye. I shall have a sad task before me when I return to tellthem of him whom they have loved and lost."
"Are you then going back to England?" asked Corinne; "are you notborn in these lands of the West?"
"Yes; and I think that my home will be here when my duties to myfriend are done. But first I must return to his home and hismother, and give to them there his last loving messages, and thosethings he wished them to possess of his. Indeed, his body is to betaken back, embalmed; the officers have decided upon that. I mustsee his mother and Miss Lowther again; then I think I shall returnto these Western shores once again, and make my home upon Canadiansoil."
"Tell me more about Mrs. Wolfe and Miss Lowther," said Corinne,with keen interest in her eyes and voice.
So Julian told her much of the events of those months which hespent in England by the side of Wolfe, and at last he drew forththe double miniature containing the likeness of the two who lovedthe hero so well, and gave it to Corinne to look at.
The tears came into her eyes as she gazed at the two faces. He sawthe sparkle on her long lashes as she returned him the case, and heloved her for them.
"It is a beautiful face; both are beautiful faces," she said. "Howsad for them--how very sad--that he should return to them no more!Do you think Miss Lowther will ever love again? Or will she gomourning all the days of her life for him whom she has lost?"
Julian shook his head doubtfully.
"I cannot tell; yet time is a great healer, and Wolfe himself senther a message bidding her not mourn too long and deeply for him.She is still young, and the time they spent together was not verylong. I trust and hope that comfort will come to her when her griefhas abated and the wound has healed. Life would become toosorrowful a thing if death were able to make such lasting havoc ofits hopes and happiness."
Corinne drew a long sigh. She had seen much of death and disasterthose last months of her young life. It would indeed be too cruelif the hand of time held no healing balm in its clasp.
The next days were full of interest for Corinne. Julian took herand Colin under his special protection and care. Fritz was kept tothe house and its vicinity by his lameness, which the march intothe city had rather increased; and Humphrey was busy in a thousandways. But Julian, though he had sundry duties to perform, hadplenty of leisure on his hands, too; and he gave up a great portionof this leisure to taking Corinne and her brother a regular tour ofthe various ships, and of the camps where the English had settledthemselves whilst attacking Quebec--showing them exactly how theHeights of Abraham had been scaled, how the plain had been reachedand the battle set in array there; and the spot where Wolfe hadfallen, and that where he had died.
The bright-faced girl, with her French name and English sympathies,was feted and welcomed everywhere. Brigadier Townshend gave adinner to some of the residents, and the Abbe and Madame Drucour,with their nephew and niece, were invited. Corinne's health wasproposed and drunk amid acclamation, greatly to her ownastonishment; and wherever she went she met with nothing butkindness and respect.
She was given a number of trophies of the recent war--a smalldagger that had belonged to Wolfe being the most prized of themall. She daily visited the hospital with her aunt, and cheered byher bright presence both the English and French who lay there.
All was busy in and about the city. The garrison was being shippedoff to France, according to the terms of the capitulation; and anumber of residents whose homes had been destroyed, and who had nomind to remain in the place now that the English were the masters,were eager likewise to be gone. The French ships in the upperreaches of the river were permitted to come down, take up theircrews again, and transport the fugitives to France.
But the Abbe and his sister remained on, uncertain of th
eir future,Madame Drucour waited for news of her husband, and the Abbelingered to know if he could serve his countrymen any longer. Theyhad friends in France, but were not much disposed to return to thatland. Colin and Corinne were burning with desire to see England atleast, even if they did not remain there; and Madame Drucour wasdisposed to wish the same thing for herself.
One day Humphrey brought them news. He had had news of theex-governor of Louisbourg. He had fallen into the hands of theIndians, but had been rescued by the English, and had been sent,with a number of other prisoners, to England in one of theirreturning ships. The news had been brought by a sloop from NewYork.
Vessels were beginning to arrive in the harbour now from theenthusiastic English provinces. Those in Quebec heard how joy bellswere ringing and bonfires blazing throughout New England and theprovinces. Far-seeing men saw in the fall of Quebec an augury of anew and splendid empire in the west, over which England shouldrule. So far, at least, there was no thought of anything else,although the spirit of independence had taken deep root whichanother day would bring forth a different sort of fruit.
"Madame, your husband is safe," said Humphrey when brought to herto tell his tale; "I have heard it from one who saw him. He has notsuffered any severe hurt at the hands of the Indians. They were ofthose who were wavering betwixt loyalty to France and loyalty toEngland, and who made captives of white men wherever they could,hoping to get a ransom for them. He was rescued by the English andbrought to New York, put safely on board a home-sailing vessel, anddoubtless he is safe on shore there by this time. He will be welltreated; have no fears as to that. The brave Governor of Louisbourgwill find many friends in England."
"Where I will join him!" cried Madame Drucour, clasping her hands."Yes, that settles my hesitation. If my husband is in England, Iwill go thither and join him; and these children shall go with us,and make acquaintance with their mother's kindred in Scotland.
"Captain Dautray, can you help us in this matter? Can you securefor us a passage in one of your many noble ships so soon to return?You have been so true a friend to us that we appeal to you withconfidence and courage."
"It rejoices me that you should do so, Madame. I will see to it atonce. If possible, you shall sail in the same ship as I do myself.I think there will be little difficulty. Each vessel will transporta certain number of those who desire to return to France or to becarried to English shores."
Corinne clapped her hands; her whole face lighted up.
"Oh, I shall see England! I shall realize the dream of my life!
"Colin, do you hear--do you understand? We are going toEngland--and in Captain Dautray's ship!"
"Hurrah!" cried the boy; "hurrah for old England! And if we go inCaptain Dautray's ship, we shall have our middies for ourcompanions, for they are to belong to the Royal William, too. Ah,that will be something to live for indeed! When do we sail? andwhere shall we go when we get there?"
"The Admirals want to leave as soon as possible," answered Julian;"they have already stayed far beyond the time they intended. Butthere is much to arrange, and they will not go till they havesufficiently victualled the town, and settled the new garrison ascomfortably and securely as may be.
"Still it will not be long now, And as for the rest, I can only begof you to come first, upon landing, to the house of Mrs. Wolfe,where I myself am bound. Madame Drucour's name is known to her.
"Her son spoke much of you, Madame, and of your kindness to him atLouisbourg. And they know too how kindly others were treated--yourhumble servant being one. Believe me, it will be the greatestpleasure to Mrs. Wolfe to welcome anyone who has known and lovedher son, I have to visit her immediately; come at least with me sofar. After that we will learn where Monsieur Drucour is to befound, and I will seek him out and bring him to you."
So the matter was settled, and the Abbe gave his approval. Hehimself would remain in Quebec, the friend and counsellor of thevictorious English, whom he could not but regard with affection andrespect.
Of the Brigadiers in command, Moncton was too much shattered to doaught but go home to recover of his wounds; Townshend was resolvedto sail back, to receive the compliments and honours of the victory(since Wolfe had passed beyond these things); and Murray was leftin command of Quebec.
There had been some talk of destroying it rather than facing theperils of keeping it in its shattered condition, and with a Frencharmy so near. But English pluck had scorned this policy, andalready the men were hard at work repairing its defences, andstoring away a sufficient supply of provisions for the long,inclement winter that lay before them.
"We may have to fight for it yet," spoke some as they cheerfullyworked at their fascines; "but we have got Quebec, and we mean tokeep it, let the French storm and rage as they will. If we couldtake it from them almost without a blow, surely we can keep it nowwe have it!"
Chapter 4: The Last.
"Fritz, Fritz! what do you think? Who do you think has come toQuebec? Why, my brother-in-law, good Benjamin Ashley, together withhis wife and daughter. They have come in charge of a trim littlevessel, laden with provisions, sent as a gift from the citizens ofPhiladelphia to the victors of Quebec. He has charge of the cargo,I mean, not of the sloop; and he says he has come to stop, but Ihad no time to hear all his story. Others were flocking about him,and he had letters for the commanding officer. I hastened away tofind you and tell the news. Let us go back together and learn moreof this thing."
Into Fritz's face there had leaped a look of quick and keeninterest.
"Benjamin Ashley," he repeated, "with his wife and daughter! Islittle Susanna actually here in Quebec?"
"Yes, and my sister," cried Humphrey eagerly, "looking but littlechanged from the day I left her in Philadelphia months ago. Andtheir first inquiry after kissing me was for you, Fritz. Had youescaped the perils of the war? how were you? and were you here inthe town also?"
"Let us go and see them," cried Fritz, seizing his stick; "I wouldbe one of the first to welcome them. It is true that you saidBenjamin Ashley spoke of coming to Quebec if it should fall to us,but I never thought to see him here so soon. He must have a stoutheart, for the perils of the place are not ended yet, I fear."
"He has a stout heart, in truth," answered Humphrey; "and rightglad am I to see him. Quebec will be more of a home to us ifBenjamin Ashley and his wife and daughter are dwelling within itswalls."
"Indeed it will," answered Fritz eagerly; and forthwith the pairstarted off together in search of their kinsfolk and friends.
On the way they encountered John Stark, who was the head of theband of Rangers to be quartered in Quebec during the winter as partof the garrison, and he was greatly excited by the news.
"Hurrah for brave Benjamin Ashley! It is like the stout-heartedfellow he always was to join his countrymen in times of perilrather than wait till all was smooth sailing. We shall wantstout-hearted citizens of English blood within the city walls, topeople the empty houses, and save us from being too much surroundedwith half-hearted Canadian residents. If we are beleaguered by aFrench army, as is likely enough, we shall want citizens as well assoldiers if we are to hold our prize against them."
This was, indeed, very true, and therefore it was that any settlersfrom New England were warmly welcomed by the officers in charge ofthe fortress and city. They could depend upon their soldiers in thegarrison well enough; but every commander knows how much harm canbe done to a cause by discontent and half-heartedness in the city.
At Louisbourg it was the voice of the citizens that had turned thescale and forced the capitulation, and the same thing had, to agreat extent, happened at Quebec, The citizens had been discouragedand rendered desperate by the way in which the town had suffered,and this feeling had reacted upon the garrison, and had renderedthem far less willing to try to hold out than they might otherwisehave been.
It was some little time before Humphrey and his comrades could findAshley. He had been taken to the commander of the fortress todeliver up his papers and have a personal intervie
w with him; andit was said that he was being entertained by him at table, and hiswife and daughter also.
Presently the news came that Mr. Ashley from Philadelphia wasinspecting the premises of the Fleur de Lye, which was the mostcommodious and important inn in the lower town. It had been a gooddeal shattered by the bombardment, and the proprietor had beenkilled by a bursting shell. His family had been amongst the firstof the inhabitants to take ship for France and now the place stoodempty, its sign swinging mournfully from the door, waiting for someenterprising citizen to come and open business there again.
"Doubtless the Commander has given him the offer of the house andbusiness," said Fritz when he heard. "Ashley is just the man torestore prosperity to the old inn. Let us go and seek him there,Humphrey. A stout-hearted English-speaking host will be rightwelcome at the inn, and our fellows will bring him plenty ofcustom."
The comrades hurried along the now familiar streets, and reachedtheir destination in due course. The inn stood at no great distancefrom the harbour, and was in its palmy days a great resort both forthe soldiers of the fortress and the sailors who navigated thegreat river. It was a solid building, and though its roof had beenmuch damaged, and there was an ugly crack all down the front, itsfoundations were solid, and a little care and skill would soonrepair the damage.
Fritz followed Humphrey into the big public room close to theentrance, and there he came face to face with Benjamin Ashley, whowas just saying farewell to Brigadier Murray, and whose honest facelighted with pleasure at the sight of the stalwart soldier.
"It shall be seen to at once, Mr. Ashley," the Commander wassaying. "I will set the men to work tomorrow, and in a few days theplace will be habitable. You shall have immediate possession, andthe sooner you can start business the better for all. We wantQuebec to be a town again, and not a ruin. We want to make friendsof the inhabitants, and show them that the conditions of life arenot altogether altered. We want them to trust us and to think of usas friends. I am sure you will help us in this. Nothing like goodwine and a jovial host to set men's tongues wagging in a friendlyfashion, and lighten their hearts of any load of fear anddespondency."
Murray strode out, returning the salutes of his subordinates, andthe next minute Fritz and Ashley were exchanging a warm greeting.
"Welcome to Quebec, my friend; it does the heart good to see youhere. Humphrey declared you had promised to come soon; but I hadnot dared to think it would be this side of the winter season."
"Why, yes; I have been ready and waiting this long while. To tellthe truth, I have had enough of Philadelphia and its Quaker-riddenAssembly. Why, when once the war had broken out and was raging ingood earnest, I longed for nothing so much as my own youth backagain, that I might fight with the best of them. And the peacepalaver of the Quakers sickened me. I came near to quarrelling withsome of my old friends, and I grew eager to see fresh places, freshfaces. I turned it over in my mind, and I thought that if Quebecfell into our hands, English-speaking citizens would surely bewanted to leaven the French and Canadians who would remain. And ifso, why should not I be one to take up my abode?"
"Why not, indeed?" cried Fritz, whose eyes were eagerly strayinground the room in search of somebody he had not seen as yet. "Itwas a happy thought, as our Commander has just told you, I doubtnot."
"He has been a capital friend--he has put me in possession of thisplace; and I can see that there will be the making of a finebusiness here. And I have not come empty-handed. I sold the oldtavern over yonder, and I have a fine store of wine and ale andsalted provisions stored away on board, enough to set me up for thewinter.
"I must have that old sign down," added Ashley, stepping into thestreet and looking up at the battered board crazily hanging fromthe beam above; "we must have another one up instead. I'll set up awolf's head in its place, in memory of the gallant soldier who fellon the Plains of Abraham. And I will call my inn the Wolfe ofQuebec."
Fritz laughed, still looking round him with quick glances.
"And what said your wife and daughter to such a move?"
"Oh, the wife is a good wife, and follows her husband; though Iwon't say she did not feel the wrench of parting a good bit. As forthe maid, she was wild to come! She has done nothing but think ofthe war ever since it began. She is half a soldier already, I tellher, and is making herself only fit to be a soldier's wife. Shemight have had the pick of all the young Quakers in Philadelphia;but you should have seen her turn up her pretty nose at them. "'AQuaker indeed!' quoth the little puss; 'I'd as lief marry abroomstick with a turnip for a head! Give me a man who is a man,not a puling woman in breeches!'
"The sauciness of the little puss!"
But Ashley's jolly laugh showed that he encouraged the maid in her"sauciness," and Fritz and Humphrey laughed in sympathy.
"Where are Mrs. Ashley and Susanna to be found?" asked Fritz whenthe laugh had subsided.
K "Oh, somewhere in the house, poking and prying, and settling thethings in woman's fashion. Anything in the house is to be ours, andwe may buy cheap a quantity of the furniture which is being takenout of the houses which are too much shattered to be rebuilt. Wehave brought things of our own, too. Oh, we shall do well, we shalldo well. It was a capital thought to come here. Canada in Englishhands will have a great future before it."
But Fritz was off already, leaving Humphrey to discuss thesituation with his brother-in-law. He was off in search of Susanna,and presently came upon her sitting upon a wide window ledge whichcommanded a view of the quay and harbour, and of the heights ofPoint Levi opposite. Hannah was taking housewifely notes on theupper floor; but the view from this window had fascinated the girl,and she sat gazing out, lost in thought, a thousand picturesflitting through her imaginative brain.
"Susanna!" spoke a voice behind her.
She started to her feet, quivering in every limb; and facing round,found herself confronted by him whose face and form had been thecentre of each of her mental pictures, whose name had been on herlips and in her heart each time she had bent her knees in prayerfor two long years, and who she knew had come at last to ask thefulfilment of that promise she had given him when last they hadparted.
Her hands were in his; his face was bent over hers. He disengagedone hand, and put it round her shoulders, drawing her towards himgently.
She did not resist; she gave a happy little sigh, and stood withher fair head close to his shoulder.
"Susanna, I have done what I hoped. I am a captain in the EnglishKing's army. I have won some small reputation as a soldier. I havea position sufficiently assured. You have come to live at Quebec. Iam quartered there for the winter. Many of our officers andsoldiers have wives who follow them wherever they go. I would notask you to come to me to share hardship and privation; but I askyou to be my wife, here in this city, where your father's housewill give you shelter if I should be forced by the chances of warto leave you for a while.
"Susanna, will you be brave enough for this? Can you make up yourmind to be a soldier's wife, even before the war has closed? I hadnot thought to ask you so soon; but year after year passes by, andthough nearer and ever nearer to the goal of peace, the cloudsstill hang in the sky, and there is still stern work for thesoldier to do. But we seem now to see the end of the long, longwar, and that a happy end; and so I ask if you can marry me, evenwith the chances of one of those separations which wring the heartand entail so much anxiety and sorrow upon the wife left at home."
She was clinging to him even before he had done, shedding tears,and yet half laughing as she looked with dewy eyes into his face.
"O Fritz, Fritz, don't you understand yet what a woman's love islike? As though I would not rather a hundred thousand times be yourwife, come what may in the future, than live the safest and mostsheltered life without you! As though I should not glory anddelight to share the perils and hardships you are called upon toendure! As though being together would not make up a hundredfoldfor everything else!"
When Benjamin Ashley, together with Humphrey and John St
ark, camein search of the others, they all saw at a glance what had takenplace. Susanna's blushing face and Fritz's expression of proud,glad happiness told the tale all too plainly. But all had beenprepared for it; and Ashley laughed as he took his daughter's facebetween his hands and kissed it, though he heaved a quick sigh,too.
"Ah me! so all the birds leave the nest at last. And nothing but ared-coat would serve your turn, my maid! That I have known for longenough. Well, well, I cannot blame you. We owe a debt of gratitudeto our brave soldiers which we must all be willing to pay.
"Take her, Fritz my boy; take her, and her father's blessing withher. She will not come to you empty handed; she has a snug littlefortune from her mother ready for her dowry. But you have wooed herand won her like a man; and her love will be, if I mistake not, thecrown of your manhood and of your life."
"Indeed it will, sir," answered Fritz fervently, and possessedhimself of Susanna's hand once more.
Barely a week later, and the party stood upon the quay to sayfarewell to their friends and comrades who were sailing away forEngland. October was waning. The departure of the ships could nolonger be delayed. Many had already gone; but today the mortalremains of the gallant Wolfe had been conveyed on board the RoyalWilliam, and all the town had come forth to pay its last tribute ofrespect to one who was mourned by friends and foes alike. Flagshung half-mast high, the guns had boomed a salute, and the bells ofthe city had tolled in solemn cadence as the coffin was borne tothe quay and reverently carried to the place prepared for it uponthe ship.
Now all was bustle and animated farewell as the sailors began tomake preparations for unfurling the sails and hoisting up theanchor. Julian and Fritz stood together a little apart from thecrowd; their hands were locked in a close clasp. The tie whichbound them together was a very strong and tender one.
"You will come back, Julian? you will not forsake these Westernlands, which must always seem to me more like home than any countrybeyond the seas--even England, which we call our home. You willcome back?"
"Yes, I shall come back; the lands of the great West ever seem tobe calling me. I do but go to make good my promise to him that isgone; then I shall return, and cast in my lot with the Englishsubjects of Canada."
"They say you are to receive promotion, Julian. You will rise to bea man of place in this colony. I am certain of it. You havetalents, address, courage; and you are always beloved of French andEnglish alike. I have heard men talk of you, and point you out as arising man. They will want such over here when Canada has passedinto English keeping."
"They will find me ready to do my best if ever they should desireto use me. I want nothing better than to serve my country, and toheal the wound between the two nations who have struggled so longfor supremacy in the West."
"You will come back--I am sure of it--a man of place andimportance. But you will be the same Julian still, my brother andfriend. And, Julian (am I wrong in thinking it?), you will not comeback alone?"
A slight flush rose in Julian's face; but he answered quietly:
"I hope not; I believe not."
"Mademoiselle Corinne--" began Fritz, but paused there; for thegirl was close beside them, having come up with her aunt, MadameDrucour, to say goodbye to the group of friends gathered to seethem off.
Fritz saw the quick glance which flashed between her and Julian astheir eyes met, and he felt that he had got his answer. When Juliancame back to Canada, he would not come alone.
The last farewells were said; the deck was crowded by those whowere to sail away; the musical call of the seamen rose and fell asthe sails unfurled to the breeze, and the gallant vessel began toslip through the water.
"A safe voyage and a joyous return. God be with you all!" criedthose upon the quay.
The Abbe lifted his hands, and seemed to pronounce a benedictionupon the departing ship, and those who saw the action bared theirheads and bent the knee.
Then the sails swelled out, the pace increased; a salute boomedforth from the fortress behind, and was answered from the vesselnow gliding so fast away; and the Royal William moved with statelygrace through the wide waters of the St. Lawrence, and slowlydisappeared in the hazy distance.
THE END.
French and English: A Story of the Struggle in America Page 27
