Cameron of Lochiel
that you will not say to me, as you said to your sister, the superior,
when she sought to plead the cause of this innocent young man: 'Enough,
my sister. You are a holy woman, bound to forgive your enemies, even
those who have been guilty of the blackest ingratitude against you. But
as for me, you know that I never forgive an injury. That is my nature.
If it be a sin, God has not given me strength to conquer it. Enough,
my sister; and never again pronounce his name in my presence, or all
intercourse between us shall cease.' No, my dear friend," continued
Saint-Luc, "you will not make me this answer; and you will hear what I
have to say."
M. D'Haberville knew too well the requirements of hospitality to impose
silence upon his friend under his own roof. His thick eyebrows gathered
in a heavy frown, he half closed his eyes as if to veil his thoughts,
and resigned himself to listen with the air of a criminal to whose
satisfaction the judge is endeavoring to prove that he deserves his
sentence.
M. de Saint-Luc detailed Archie's conduct from the beginning, and his
struggle with his implacable foe Montgomery. He spoke energetically of
the soldier's obligation to obey the commands of his superior, however
unjust. He drew a touching picture of the young man's despair, and
added:
"As soon as Lochiel learned that you and yours were ordered to embark
at once for Europe, he requested an audience with the general, which
was granted.
"'_Captain_ de Lochiel,' said Murray, handing him the brevet of his new
rank, 'I was going to look for you. Having witnessed your exploits on
the glorious field of 1759, I hastened to ask for your promotion; and I
may add that your subsequent conduct has proved you worthy of the favor
of His Majesty's Government, and of my utmost efforts on your behalf.'
"'I am most glad, sir,' answered Lochiel, 'that your recommendation has
obtained me a reward far beyond anything my poor services could entitle
me to expect; and I beg you will accept my grateful thanks for the
favor, which emboldens me to ask yet one more. General, it is a great,
an inestimable favor which I would ask of you.'"
"'Speak, captain,' said Murray, 'for I would do much to gratify you.'
"'If it were myself that was concerned,' said Archie, 'I should
have nothing further to desire. It is for others I would speak. The
D'Haberville family, ruined, like so many others, by our conquest, has
been ordered by Your Excellency to depart at once for France. They have
found it impossible to sell, even at the greatest sacrifice, the small
remnants of their once considerable fortune. Grant them, I implore
you, two years in which to set their affairs in order. Your Excellency
is aware how much I owe to this family, which loaded me with kindness
during my ten years' sojourn in the colony. It was I who, obeying the
orders of my superior officer, completed their ruin by burning their
manor and mill at St. Jean-Port-Joli. For the love of Heaven, general,
grant them two years, and you will lift a terrible burden from my soul!'
"'Captain de Lochiel,' said Murray severely, 'I am surprised to hear
you interceding for the D'Habervilles, who have shown themselves our
most implacable enemies.'
"'It is but just to them, general,' answered Archie, 'to recognize that
they have fought bravely to defend their country, even as we have done
to conquer it. It is with some confidence I address myself to a brave
soldier, on behalf of truly valiant enemies.'
"Lochiel had touched the wrong cord, for Murray was brooding over his
defeat of the preceding year, and, further, he was hardly susceptible
to anything like chivalry of sentiment. He answered icily:
"'Impossible, sir! I can not recall my order. The D'Habervilles must
go.'
"'In that case, will Your Excellency be so kind as to accept my
resignation?' said Archie.
"'What, sir!' exclaimed the general, paling with anger.
"'Will Your Excellency,' repeated Archie coldly, 'be so good as to
accept my resignation, and permit me to serve as a common soldier? They
who will seek to point the finger at me as the monster of ingratitude,
who, after being loaded with benefits by a family to whom he came a
stranger, achieved the final ruin of that family without working any
alleviation of their lot--they who would hold me up to scorn for this
will find it harder to discover me when buried in the ranks than when I
am at the head of men who have no such stain upon them.' Once more he
offered his commission to the general.
"The latter became first red and then pale, turned upon his heel, bit
his lips, passed his hand across his forehead, muttered something like
a 'G--d d--n!' between his teeth, and remained for a moment plunged in
thought. Then he calmed himself suddenly, put out his hand, and said:
"'I appreciate your sentiments, Captain de Lochiel. Our sovereign must
not be deprived of the services which you can render him as one of his
officers, you who are ready to sacrifice your future for a debt of
gratitude. Your friends shall remain.'
"'A thousand thanks!' cried Archie. 'You may count on my devotion
henceforth, though I be required to march alone to the cannon's mouth
to prove it. A mountain of remorse lay on my heart. Now I feel as light
as one of our mountain roebucks!'"
Of all the passions that sway men's wills, jealousy and revenge are
perhaps the hardest to control. Captain D'Haberville, after having
listened with a frown, said merely:
"I perceive that the services of M. de Lochiel have met with due
appreciation. As for me, I was unaware that I was so indebted to him."
And he turned the conversation into another channel.
M. de Saint-Luc glanced at the other members of the family, who had
listened with eyes cast down, not daring to discuss the subject.
Rising from the table, he added:
"This respite, D'Haberville, is a most fortunate thing; for you
may rest assured that within two years you will find yourself
free to go or come as you will. The English governor incurred too
heavy a responsibility when he doomed to death so many persons of
prominence--persons allied to the most illustrious families, not only
on the Continent, but in England as well. He will seek to conciliate
the Canadians in order to ward off the consequences of this dreadful
catastrophe. Now, farewell, my friends; and remember they are weak
souls who let themselves be beaten down by misfortune. One great
consolation we have in considering that we did all that could be
expected of the bravest, and that, if our country could have been
preserved, our arms and our courage would have preserved it."
The night was far advanced when M. de Saint-Luc reached Quebec and
presented himself at the Château St.-Louis, where he was at first
refused admission. But he was so determined, declaring that his tidings
were of the most immediate importance, that at length an aide consented
to awaken the governor, who had been some hours in bed. Murray at first
failed to recognize M. de Saint-Luc, and asked him angrily how he dared
disturb him at such an hour, or what tidings he could bring of such
pressing importance.
"An affair which you will assuredly consider worthy of some attention,
sir, for I am Captain de Saint-Luc, and my presence here will tell you
the rest."
General Murray turned as pale as death. Presently he called for
refreshments, and, treating Saint-Luc with the most profound
consideration, he inquired of him the fullest particulars of the wreck.
He was no longer the same man who had carelessly consigned so many
brave officers to their doom just because the sight of their uniforms
displeased him.
What M. de Saint-Luc had foreseen presently came to pass. Thenceforward
Governor Murray, conscience-stricken by the loss of the Auguste, became
very lenient toward the Canadians, and those who wished to remain in
the colony were given liberty to do so. M. de Saint-Luc, in particular,
whose possible revelations he may have dreaded, became the special
object of his favor, and found nothing to complain of in the governor's
attitude. He set his tremendous energies to the work of repairing his
fortunes, and his efforts were crowned with well-merited success.
CHAPTER XV.
LOCHIEL AND BLANCHE.
After seven long years of severe privation, content and even happiness
came back to the D'Habervilles. It is true that the great manor
house had been replaced by a somewhat humble dwelling; but it was a
palace compared to the mill they had just left. The D'Habervilles
had, moreover, suffered less than many others in the same position.
Loved and respected by their tenants, they had suffered none of
those humiliations which the vulgar often inflict upon their betters
in distress. The D'Habervilles had never forgotten that it is the
privilege of the upper classes to treat their inferiors with respect.
They were besieged with offers of service. When it was decided to
rebuild the manor, the whole parish volunteered its assistance to help
along the work. Every man labored with as much zeal as if it were his
own house he was building. With the delicate tact of the Frenchman,
they never entered, except as invited guests, the poor chambers which
the family had set apart in the mill. If they had been affectionate
toward their seigneur in his prosperity, when the iron hand of
adversity was laid upon him they became his devoted disciples.
Only they who have known great reverses, who have suffered long and
cruelly, can appreciate the blissful content of them who again see
better days. Hitherto all had respected Captain D'Haberville's grief,
and in his presence had scarcely spoken above their breath; but now
the natural gayety of the French heart reasserted itself, and all was
changed as by enchantment.
The captain laughed and joked as he used to before the war, the ladies
sang as they busied themselves about the house, and again the sonorous
voice of Uncle Raoul was heard on fine evenings arousing the echoes of
the cape. The faithful José was everywhere at once, and tales of the
experiences of his "late father, now dead" flowed incessantly from his
lips.
One morning toward the end of August, that same year, Captain
D'Haberville was returning from the river Port-Joli, his gun on one
shoulder and a well-filled game-bag slung over the other, when he saw a
small boat put off from a ship which was anchored a little way out. The
boat made directly for the D'Habervilles' landing. The captain sat on a
rock to wait for it, imagining that it contained some sailors in quest
of milk and fresh victuals. As they landed he was hastening forward
to meet them, when he saw with surprise that one of them, who was
dressed as a gentleman, was handing a packet to one of the sailors and
directing him to take it to the manor house. At the sight of Captain
D'Haberville this gentleman seemed to change his mind suddenly, for he
stepped forward and handed him the packet with these words:
"I have hardly dared hand you this packet myself, Captain D'Haberville,
although it contains news at which you will rejoice."
"Why, sir," replied the captain, searching his memory for the name of
this person, whose face seemed half familiar, "why should you have
hesitated to hand me the packet yourself if chance had not thrown me in
your way?"
"Because, sir," said the other, hesitating, "I might have feared that
it would be disagreeable to you to receive it at my hands. I know that
Captain D'Haberville never forgets either a benefit or an injury."
Captain D'Haberville stared at the stranger; then, frowning heavily, he
shut his eyes and was silent for some moments. The stranger, watching
him intently, could see that a violent struggle was raging in his
breast. Presently Captain D'Haberville recovered his self-possession