Cameron of Lochiel
which he felt confident he would come off victorious. "She loves him,"
thought he, "and therefore my cause is already gained."
Man, with all his apparent superiority, with all his self-confident
vanity, has never yet sounded the depths of the feminine heart, that
inexhaustible treasure-house of love, devotion, and self-sacrifice.
The poets have sung in every key this being who came all beauty
from the hands of her Creator; but what is all this physical beauty
compared to the spiritual beauty of a noble and high-souled woman?
Indeed, who is more miserable than man in the face of adversity,
when, poor pygmy, he leans on the fortitude of a woman, who bears the
burden uncomplainingly. It is not surprising then that Jules, knowing
woman only on the surface, expected an easy triumph over his sister's
scruples.
"Come, Blanche," said Jules to his sister, the next day, after dinner,
"there's our Scottish Nimrod setting out with his gun to get some birds
for our supper. Let's you and I see if we can scale the bluff as nimbly
as we used to."
"With all my heart," answered Blanche. "You shall see that my Canadian
legs have lost none of their agility."
The brother and sister, assisting themselves by the projecting rocks,
and by the shrubs which clung in the crevices of the cliff, speedily
scaled the difficult path that led to the summit. After gazing in
silence for a time at the magnificent panorama unrolled before them,
Jules said to his sister:
"I had an object in bringing you here. I wanted to talk to you on
a subject of the greatest importance. You love our friend Archie;
you have loved him for a long time; yet for reasons that I can not
comprehend, for over-exalted sentiments which warp your judgment, you
are imposing upon yourself an unnatural sacrifice and preparing for
yourself a future of wretchedness. As for me, if I loved an English
girl, and she returned my affection, I would marry her just as readily
as if she were one of my own countrywomen."
Blanche's eyes filled with tears. Taking her brother's hand
affectionately, she answered:
"If you were to marry an English girl, my dear Jules, I should take her
to my heart as a sister; but that which you could do without incurring
any reproach, would be cowardice on my part. Nobly have you paid your
debt to your country. Your voice has nerved your soldiers through the
most terrible conflicts. Twice has your bleeding body been dragged from
our battle-fields, and three times have you been wounded in Old World
struggles. Yes, my beloved brother, you have fulfilled all your duty
to your country, and you can afford to indulge, if you wish, the whim
of taking a daughter of England to wife. But I, a weak woman, what
have I done for this enslaved and now silent land, this land which
has rung so often of old with the triumphant voices of my countrymen?
Shall a daughter of the D'Habervilles be the first to set the example
of a double yoke to the daughters of Canada? It is natural and even
desirable that the French and English in Canada, having now one country
and the same laws, should forget their ancient hostility and enter
into the most intimate relationships; but I am not the one to set the
example. They would say, as I told Archie, that the proud Briton, after
having vanquished and ruined the father, had purchased with his gold
the poor Canadian girl! Never, never shall it be said!" And the girl
wept bitterly on her brother's shoulder.
"No one will know of it," she continued, "and you yourself will never
realize the full extent of the sacrifice I am making, but fear not,
Jules, I have the strength for it. Proud of the sentiments by which
I have been inspired, I shall pass my days serenely in the bosom of
my family. Of this be sure," she continued in a voice that thrilled
with exaltation, "that she who has loved the noble Cameron of Lochiel
will never soil her bosom with another earthly love. You made a
mistake in selecting this spot, Jules, wherein to talk to me on such a
subject--this spot whence I have so often gazed proudly on the mansion
of my fathers, which is now replaced by yonder poor dwelling. Let us go
down now, and if you love me never mention this painful subject again."
"Noble soul!" cried Jules, and he held her sobbing in his arms.
Archie, having lost all hope of wedding Blanche D'Haberville, set
himself to repaying the debt of gratitude which he owed Dumais. The
refusal of Blanche changed his first intentions and left him more
latitude; for he now resolved upon a life of celibacy. Archie, whom
misfortune had brought to an early maturity, had studied men and things
with great coolness of judgment; and he had come to the wise conclusion
that marriage is rarely a success unless based on mutual love. Unlike
most young men, Lochiel was genuinely modest. Though endowed with
remarkable beauty, and with all those qualities which go to captivate
women, he nevertheless remained always simple and unassuming in his
manner. He further believed, with Molière's Toinette, that the pretense
of love often bears a very close resemblance to the reality. "When I
was poor and in exile," thought he, "I was loved for my own sake; now
that I am rich, who knows that another woman would love in me anything
but my wealth and my rank, even supposing that I should succeed in
banishing from my heart my first and only love." Archie decided then
that he would never marry.
The sun was disappearing behind the Laurentian hills, when Lochiel
arrived at the farm of Dumais. The order and prosperity which reigned
there gave him an agreeable surprise. The good wife, busy in her
dairy, where a fat servant girl was helping her, came forward to meet
him without recognizing him, and invited him to enter the house.
"This is the house of Sergeant Dumais, I believe," said Archie.
"Yes, sir, and I am his wife. My husband should be back presently from
the fields with a load of grain. I will send one of the children to
hurry him up."
"There is no hurry, madam. I have called to give you news of a certain
Mr. Archie de Lochiel, whom you once knew. Perhaps you have forgotten
him."
Madame Dumais came nearer. After studying his face intently for some
moments, she said:
"There is certainly a resemblance. Doubtless you are one of his
kinsfolk. Forget Mr. Archie! He could never think us capable of such
ingratitude. Do you not know, then, that he faced almost certain death
to save my husband's life, and that we pray to God every day that he
will bless our benefactor? Forget Mr. Archie! You grieve me, sir."
Lochiel was much moved. Lifting into his lap the little seven-year-old
Louise, Dumais's youngest child, he said to her:
"And you, my little one, do you know Mr. Archie?"
"I have never seen him," said the child, "but we pray for him every
day."
"What do you pray?" asked Archie.
"O God, bless Mr. Archie, who saved papa's life, as long as he lives;
and, when he dies, take him to your holy paradise."
Lochiel continued to chat with Madame Dumais till the latter heard
her husband's voice at the barn. She ran to tell him that there was a
stranger in the house with news from Mr. Archie. Dumais was preparing
to pitch off his load, but he threw down the fork and rushed into the
house. It was by this time too dark for him to make out the stranger's
face.
"You are indeed welcome," said he, "coming with news from one so dear
to us."
"You are--Sergeant Dumais?" inquired Archie.
"You are Mr. Archie!" cried Dumais, clasping him in his arms. "Do you
think I could forget the voice that cried to me 'Courage!' when I was
hanging on the brink of the abyss--the voice I heard so often in my
sickness?"
Toward the end of the evening Archie said:
"My dear Dumais, I am come to ask a great favor."
"A favor!" exclaimed Dumais. "Could I, a poor farmer, be so fortunate
as to do you a favor? It would be the happiest day of my life."
"Well, Dumais, it depends upon you to restore me to health. Though I
may not look it, I am sick, more sick than you could imagine."
"Indeed," said Dumais, "you are pale, and sadder than of old. Good
heaven! What is the matter?"
"Have you ever heard of a malady to which the English are very subject,
and which they call the spleen, or blue devils?"
"No," said Dumais. "I have known several of your English who, if I may
say it without offense, seemed to have the devil in them; but I had
imagined that these devils were of a darker hue."
Archie began to laugh.
"What we, my dear Dumais, call the blue devils is known among you
Canadians as '_peine d'esprit_.'"
"I understand now," said Dumais, "but what astonishes me is that a man
like you, with everything heart could wish, should be amusing himself
with blue devils."
"My dear Dumais," replied Archie, "I might answer that every one in
the world has his sorrows, however fortunate he may seem; but it is
enough now to say that the malady is upon me, and that I count upon you
to help me to a cure."
"Command me, Mr. Archie; for I am at your service day and night."
"I have tried everything," continued Archie. "I have tried study, I
have tried literary work. I am better in the day-time, but my nights
are usually sleepless, and when I do sleep, I wake up as miserable as
ever. I have concluded that nothing but hard manual labor can cure me.
After toiling all day, I imagine that I shall win such a slumber as has
long been denied me."
"Very true," said Dumais. "When a man has labored all day with his
hands, I defy him to suffer from sleeplessness at night. But how shall
I have the pleasure of helping you?"
"I expect you to cure me, my dear Dumais. But listen while I explain my
plans. I am now rich, and since Providence has given me riches which I
had never expected, I should employ a portion of them in doing good.
In this parish and the neighborhood there is an immense deal of land
unoccupied, either for sale or to be granted. My plan is to take up a
large acreage of such lands, and not only superintend the clearing, but
work at it myself. You know that I have good arms; and I will do as
much as any of the rest."
"I know it," said Dumais.
"There are many poor fellows," continued Archie, "who will be glad
enough to get work at such good wages as I shall give. You understand,
Dumais, that I shall have to have some one to help me. Moreover, what
would I do in the evening and during bad weather, without a friend to
keep me company? It is then that my melancholy would kill me."
"Let us set out to-morrow," cried Dumais, "and visit the best lots,
which, for that matter, I already know pretty well."
"Thank you," said Archie, grasping his hand; "but who will take care of
your farm in your frequent absences?"
"Don't be anxious on that score, sir. My wife could manage very well
alone, even without her brother, an old bachelor, who lives with us. My
farm has never suffered much from my absence. I have always preferred
the musket to the plow. My wife scolds me occasionally on this subject;
but we are none the worse friends for that."
"Do you know," said Archie, "that yonder by the edge of the river, near
that maple grove, is the most charming situation for a house. Yours is
old. We will build one large enough for us all. I will build it, on
condition that I have the right to occupy half of it during my life;
and on my death all will belong to you. I have resolved to remain a
bachelor."
"Men like you," said Dumais, "are altogether too scarce. It would be
wrong to let the breed die out. But I begin to understand that you are
thinking less about yourself than about me and my family, and that you
are seeking to make us rich."
"Let us speak frankly," answered Archie. "I have no true friends in the
world but the D'Haberville family and yours."