Cameron of Lochiel
priest. The latter placed his ear to Dumais's lips, and the first words
he gathered were: "My wife! My children! Mr. Archie!"
"Be at ease, my dear Dumais," said the old man. "Your wife has
recovered from her swoon; but, as she believes you to be dead, I must
be careful how I tell her of your deliverance, lest I kill her with
joy. As soon as prudent I will bring her to you. Meanwhile, here is Mr.
de Lochiel, to whom, through God, you owe your life."
At the sight of his deliverer, whom he had not yet recognized among the
attendants who crowded about him, a change came over the sick man. He
embraced Archie, he pressed his lips to his cheek, and a flood of tears
broke from his eyes.
"How can I ever repay you," said he, "for all you have done for me, for
my poor wife, and for my children?"
"By getting well again as soon as possible," answered Lochiel gayly.
"The seigneur has sent a messenger post-haste to Quebec to fetch the
most skillful surgeon, and another to place relays of horses along the
whole route, so that by midday to-morrow, at the latest, your leg will
be so well set that within two months you will be able again to carry
the musket against your old enemies the Iroquois."
When the old priest entered the room whither they had taken his adopted
daughter, the latter was sitting up in bed, holding her youngest child
in her arms while the other slept at her feet. Pale as death, cold, and
unresponsive to all that was said by Madame de Beaumont and the other
women, she kept repeating incessantly: "My husband! my poor husband!
I shall not even be allowed to kiss the dead body of my husband, the
father of my children!"
When she saw the old priest she stretched out her arms to him and
cried: "Is it you, my father, you who have been so kind to me since
childhood? Is it you who can have the heart to come and tell me all is
over? No, I know your love too well; you can not bring such a message.
Speak, I implore you, you whose lips can utter nothing but good!"
"Your husband," said the old man, "will receive Christian burial."
"He is dead, then," cried the unhappy woman; and for the first time she
burst into tears.
This was the reaction which the old priest looked for.
"My daughter," said he, "but a moment ago you were praying as a
peculiar favor that you might be permitted once more to embrace the
body of your husband, and God has heard your petition. Trust in him,
for the mighty hand which has plucked your husband out of the abyss is
able also to give him back to life." The young woman answered with a
fresh storm of sobs.
"He is the same all-merciful God," went on the old priest, "who said to
Lazarus in the tomb, 'Friend, I say unto you arise!' All hope is not
yet lost, for your husband in his present state of suffering--"
The poor woman, who had hitherto listened to her old friend without
understanding him, seemed suddenly to awaken as from a horrible
nightmare, and clasping her sleeping children in her arms she sprang to
the door.
On the meeting between Dumais and his family we will not intrude.
"Now, let us go to supper," said the seigneur to his venerable friend.
"We all need it, but more especially this heroic young man," added he,
bringing Archie forward.
"Gently, gently, my dear sir," said the old priest. "We have first
a more pressing duty to fulfill. We have to thank God, who has so
manifested his favor this night."
All present fell on their knees; and the old priest in a short but
touching prayer rendered thanks to Him who commands the sea in its
fury, who holds His creatures in the hollow of His hand.
CHAPTER V.
A SUPPER AT THE HOUSE OF A FRENCH-CANADIAN
SEIGNEUR.
Half-cut-down, a pasty costly made,
Where quail and pigeon, lark and leveret, lay
Like fossils of the rock, with golden yolks
Imbedded and injellied.
+Tennyson.+
The table was spread in a low but spacious room, whose furniture,
though not luxurious, lacked nothing of what an Englishman calls
comfort.
A thick woolen carpet, of Canadian manufacture and of a diamond
pattern, covered the greater part of the dining-room floor. The bright
woolen curtains, the backs of the mahogany sofa, ottomans, and chairs
were embroidered with gigantic birds, such as it would have puzzled the
most brilliant ornithologist to classify.
A great sideboard, reaching almost to the ceiling, displayed on its
many shelves a service of blue Marseilles china, of a thickness to defy
the awkwardness of the servants. Over the lower part of this sideboard,
which served the purpose of a cupboard and which might be called the
ground floor of the structure, projected a shelf a foot and a half
wide, on which stood a sort of tall narrow cabinet, whose drawers,
lined with green cloth, held the silver spoons and forks. On this shelf
also were some bottles of old wine, together with a great silver jar
of water, for the use of those who cared to dilute their beverage.
A pile of plates of the finest porcelain, two decanters of white wine,
a couple of tarts, a dish of whipped cream, some delicate biscuits, a
bowl of sweetmeats, on a little table near the sideboard covered with a
white cloth, constituted the dessert. In one corner of the room stood
a sort of barrel-shaped fountain of blue and white stone china, with
faucet and basin, where the family might rinse their hands.
In an opposite corner a great closet, containing square bottles filled
with brandy, absinthe, _liqueurs_ of peach kernel, raspberry, black
currant, anise, etc., for daily use, completed the furnishing of the
room.
The table was set for eight persons. A silver fork and spoon, wrapped
in a napkin, were placed at the left of each plate, and a bottle of
light wine at the right. There was not a knife on the table during the
serving of the courses; each was already supplied with this useful
instrument, which only the Orientals know how to do without. If the
knife one affected was a clasp knife, it was carried in the pocket;
if a sheath-knife, it was worn suspended from the neck in a case of
morocco, of silk, or even of birch-bark artistically wrought by the
Indians. The handles were usually of ivory riveted with silver; those
for the use of ladies were of mother-of-pearl.
To the right of each plate was a silver cup or goblet. These cups were
of different forms and sizes, some being of simple pattern with or
without hoops, some with handles, some in the form of a chalice, some
worked in relief, and very many lined with gold.
A servant, placing on a side-table the customary appetizers, namely,
brandy for the men and sweet cordials for the women, came to announce
that the supper was served. Eight persons sat down at the table--the
Seigneur de Beaumont and his wife; their sister, Madame Descarrières;
the old priest; Captain Marcheterre and his son Henri; and lastly
Archie and Jules. The lady of the house gave the place of honor at
her right to the priest, and the next place, at her left, to the old
captain. The _menu_ opened with an excellent soup (soup was then _de
rigueur_ for dinner and supper alike), followed by a cold pasty, called
the Easter pasty, which, on account of its immense proportions, was
served on a great tray covered with a napkin. This pasty, which would
have aroused the envy of Brillat-Savarin, consisted of one turkey, two
chickens, two partridges, two pigeons, the backs and thighs of two
rabbits, all larded with slices of fat pork. The balls of force-meat
on which rested, as on a thick, soft bed, these gastronomic riches,
were made of two hams of that animal which the Jew despises, but which
the Christian treats with more regard. Large onions scattered here
and there and a liberal seasoning of the finest spices completed the
appetizing marvel. But a very important point was the cooking, which
was beset with difficulty; for should the gigantic structure be allowed
to break, it would lose at least fifty per cent of its flavor. To guard
against so lamentable a catastrophe, the lower crust, coming at least
three inches up the sides, was not less than an inch thick. This crust
itself, saturated with the juices of all the good things inside, was
one of the best parts of this unique dish.
Chickens and partridges roasted in slices of pork, pigs feet _à la
Sainte-Ménéhould_, a hare stew, very different from that with which the
Spanish landlord regaled the unhappy Gil Blas--these were among the
other dishes which the seigneur set before his friends.
For a time there was silence with great appetites; but when dessert was
reached, the old sailor, who had been eating like a hungry wolf and
drinking proportionately, and all the time managing to keep his eyes on
Archie, was the first to break the silence.
"It would seem, young man," said he facetiously, "that you are not
much afraid of a cold in your head. It would seem, also, that you
don't really need to breathe the air of heaven, and that, like your
cousins the beaver and otter, you only put your nose out of water every
half-hour, for form sake, and to see what's going on in the upper
world. You are a good deal like a salmon--when one gives him line he
knows how to profit by it. It's my opinion, however, that gudgeons like
you are not found in every brook."
"It was only your presence of mind, captain," said Archie, "your
admirable judgment in letting out the exact quantity of rope, that
prevented me smashing my head or my stomach on the ice; and but for
you, poor Dumais, instead of being warm in bed would now be rolling
under the St. Lawrence ice."
"A nice joke," cried Marcheterre; "to hear him talk as if I had done
the thing! It was very necessary to give you line when I saw that
you threatened to stand on your head, which would have been a very
uncomfortable position in those waves. I wish to the d--Beg pardon,
your reverence, I was just going to swear; it is a habit with us
sailors."
"Nonsense," laughed the old priest, "you have been accustomed to it so
long, you old sinner, that one more or less hardly matters; your record
is full, and you no longer keep count of them."
"When the tally-board is quite full, reverend father," said
Marcheterre, "you shall just pass the plane over it, as you have done
so often before, and we'll run up another score. Moreover, I am sure
not to escape you, for you know so well when and where to hook me and
drag me into a blessed harbor with the rest of the sinners."
"You are too severe, sir," said Jules. "How could you wish to deprive
our dear captain of the comfort of swearing a little, if only against
his darky cook, who burns his fricassees as black as his own phiz?"
"You hair-brained young scoundrel," cried the captain with a comical
assumption of anger, "do you dare talk to me so after the trick you
played me?"
"I!" said Jules innocently, "I played you a trick? I am incapable of
it, dear captain. You are slandering me cruelly."
"Just listen to the young saint!" said Marcheterre. "I slandering him!
No matter, let us drop the subject for a moment. 'Lay to' for a bit,
boy; I shall know how to find you again soon. I was going to say,"
continued the captain, "when his reverence tumbled my unfortunate
exclamation to the bottom of the hold and shut the hatch down on it,
that if out of curiosity, Mr. Archie, you had gone down to the foot of
the fall, then, like your _confrère_ the salmon, you would probably
have shown us the trick of swimming up it again."
The spirit of mirth now ruled the conversation, and in repartee and
witticism the company found relief from the intense emotions to which
they had been subjected.
"Fill your glasses! Attention, everybody," cried the Seigneur de
Beaumont. "I am going to propose a health which will, I am very sure,
be received with acclamation."