The refugees : a tale of two continents

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THE REFUGEES

THE "GRAND LEVER" OF THE KING

THE REFUGEES

A TALE OF THE EARLY PIONEERS

BY

SIR A. CONAN DOYLE

AUTHOR OF " MICAH CLARKE," ETC.

NEW IMPRESSION

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LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
LONDON * NEW YORK » TORONTO

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LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO. LTD.

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Re-issued in Cheaper Form, May 1933

PUB I \ARY

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in Great Britain All frights Reserved

CONTENTS.

PART I.
IN THE OLD WORLD.

CHAPTER PAGE

I. The Man from America, - I

II. A Monarch in Deshabille, - g

III. The Holding of the Door, - 26

IV. The Father of his People. - - 34
V. Children of Belial, 44

VI. A House of Strife, 53

VII. The New World and the Old, - 68

VIII. The Rising Sun, . 78

IX. Le Roi S'amuse, 85

X. An Eclipse at Versailles, - 98

XI. The Sun Reappears, - 109

XII. The King Receives, - - 121

XIII. The King has Ideas, • • 132

XIV. The Last Card, - . 137
XV. The Midnight Mission, 144

XVI. "When the Devil Drives,"' 151

XVII. The Dungeon of Portillac, - 159

XVIII. A Night of Surprises, 167

XIX. In the King's Cabinet, 178

XX. The Two Fran9oises, 191

XXI. The Man in the Caleche, - 201

XXII. The Scaffold oi Portillac, - 210

XXIII. The Fall of thr Catinats, ., . . 216

vi CONTENTS.

PART II.
IN THE NEW WORLD.

CHAPTER PAGE

XXIV. The Start of the Golden Rod, - 230

XXV. A Boat of the Dead, - ... 241

XXVI. The Last Port, • --.-•- 248

XXVII. A Dwindling Island, - 257

XXVIII. In the Pool of Quebec, -261

XXIX. The Voice at the Port-Hole, 270

XXX. The Inland Waters, - ..... 281

XXXI. The Hairless Man, - 280

XXXII. The Lord of Sainte Marie, - 298

XXXIII. The Slaying of Brown Moose, 309

XXXIV. The Men of Blood, 327

XXXV. The Tapping of Death, 335

XXXVI. The Taking of the Stockade, 342

XXXVII. The Coming of the Friar, - - 351

XXXVIII. The Dining Hall of Sainte Marie, - 361

XXXIX. The Two Swimmers, - - ,. 368

XL. The tincl. . - - ; 373

ILLUSTRATIONS.

The " Grand Lever " of the King - Frontispiece
" ' Tell me, Adele, why do you look troubled ?' " - Faces page 4

The man from America ..... j} 6

" The old Huguenot stood up with a gesture of despair " - ,, 41

" ' At six o'clock you leave Versailles forever ' " ,, 104

'" Marry the king !"' .... II4

" ' Pass it through my heart, sire ! ' " f| 128

The Page - ,, 140

In the King's service ,, 146

" ' At the horse, Despard, at the horse ! ' ,,156
"A woman had darted through the open door, and had caught

the upraised wrist - ,, 196

The man in the caleche ,, 200

" ' Do not sign it, sire ! ' " - „ 224

The wedding on board the " Golden Rod " „ 246
"There was perched in front of them no less a person than

Captain Ephraim Savage of Boston " - ,, 254

Escape from the "St. Christophe " ,, 276

Advancing through the forest - ,, 290

Father Ignatius Morat ,, 294

Received by the Seigneur de Sainte-Marie - ,, 306

The lady of Sainte-Marie - ,, 310
" Du Lhut sprang out and buried his hatchet in the skull of the

older warrior " ,, 320

Defending the Stockade - ,, 346

" ' This is De Catinat, the heretic ' " - ,, 356

The escape of the women - „ 358

Saved ! - - - ,, 380

PART I.
IN THE OLD WORLD,

CHAPTER I.
THE MAN FROM AMERICA.

IT was the sort of window which was common in Paris
about the end of the seventeenth century. It was high,
mullioned, with a broad transom across the centre, and
above the middle of the transom a tiny coat of arms — three
caltrops gules upon a field argent — let into the diamond-paned
glass. Outside there projected a stout iron rod, from which
hung a gilded miniature of a bale of wool which swung and
squeaked with every puff of wind. Beyond that again were the
houses of the other side, high, narrow, and prim, slashed with
diagonal wood-work in front, and topped with a bristle of sharp
gables and corner turrets. Between were the cobble-stones
of the Rue St. Martin and the clatter of innumerable feet.

Inside, the window was furnished with a broad bancal of
brown stamped Spanish leather, where the family might
recline and have an eye from behind the curtains on all
that was going forward in the busy world beneath them.
Two of them sat there now, a man and a woman, but their
backs were turned to the spectacle, and their faces to the
large and richly furnished room. From time to time they
stole a glance at each other, and their eyes told that they
needed no other sight to make them happy.

Nor was it to be wondered at, for they were a well-
favoured pair. She was very young, twenty at the most,
with a face which was pale, indeed, and yet of a brilliant
pallor, which was so clear and fresh, and carried with it

I

2 THE REFUGEES.

such a suggestion of purity and innocence, that one would
not wish its maiden grace to be marred by an intrusion of
colour. Her features were delicate and sweet, and her blue-
black hair and long dark eyelashes formed a piquant con-
trast to her dreamy gray eyes and her ivory skin. In her
whole expression there was something quiet and subdued,
which was accentuated by her simple dress of black taffeta,
and by the little jet brooch and bracelet which were her sole
ornaments. Such was Adele Catinat, the only daughter
of the famous Huguenot cloth-merchant.

But if her dress was sombre, it was atoned for by the
magnificence of her companion. He was a man who might
have been ten years her senior, with a keen soldier face,
small well-marked features, a carefully trimmed black mous-
tache, and a dark hazel eye which might harden to command
a man, or soften to supplicate a woman, and be successful
at either. His coat was of sky-blue, slashed across with
silver braidings, and with broad silver shoulder-straps on
either side. A vest of white calamanca peeped out from be-
neath it, and knee-breeches of the same disappeared into high
polished boots with gilt spurs upon the heels. A silver-hilted
rapier and a plumed cap lying upon a settle beside him com-
pleted a costume which was a badge of honour to the wearer,
for any Frenchman would have recognised it as being that of
an officer in the famous Blue Guard of Louis the Fourteenth.
A trim, dashing soldier he looked, with his curling black hair
and well-poised head. Such he had proved himself before
now in the field, too, until the name of Amory de Catinat had
become conspicuous among the thousands of the valiant
lesser noblesse who had flocked into the service of the king.

They were first cousins, these two, and there was just
sufficient resemblance in the clear-cut features to recall the
relationship. De Catinat was sprung from a noble Hugue-
not family, but having lost his parents early he had joined
the army, and had worked his way wither,, influence and

THE MAN FROM AMERICA. 3

against all odds to his present position. His father's
younger brother, however, finding every path to ibrtune
barred to him through the persecution to which men of his
faith were already subjected, had dropped the " de ' which
implied his noble descent, and had taken to trade in the city
of Paris, with such success that he was now one of the
richest and most prominent citizens of the town. It was
under his roof that the guardsman now sat, and it was his
only daughter whose white hand he held in his own.

" Tell me, Adele," said he, "why do you look troubled ? '

" I am not troubled, Amory."

"Come, there is just one little line between those curving
brows. Ah, I can read you, you see, as a shepherd reads the sky."

" It is nothing, Amory, but • "

"But what?"

" You leave me this evening."

" But only to return to-morrow."

" And must you really, really go to-night ? '

" It would be as much as my commission is worth to be
absent. Why, I am on duty to-morrow morning outside
the king's bedroom ! After chapel-time Major de Brissac
will take my place, and then I am free once more."

" Ah, Amory, when you talk of the king and the court
and the grand ladies, you fill me with wonder."

" And why with wonder ? '

" To think that you who live amid such splendour should
stoop to the humble room of a mercer."

"Ah, but what does the room contain ? '

"There is the greatest wonder of all. That you who
pass your days amid such people, so beautiful, so witty,
should think me worthy of your love, me, who am such a
quiet little mouse, all alone in this great house, so shy and
so backward ! It is wonderful ! '

" Every man has his own taste," said her cousin, stroking
the tiny hand. " It is with women as with flowers. Some

4 THE REFUGEES.

may prefer the great brilliant sunflower, or the rose, which
is so bright and large that it must ever catch the eye. But
give me the little violet which hides among the mosses, and
yet is so sweet to look upon, and sheds its fragrance round
it. But still that line upon your brow, dearest."

" I was wishing that father would return."

" And why ? Are you so lonely, then ? '

Her pale face lit up with a quick smile. " I shall not be
lonely until to-night. But I am always uneasy when he
is away. One hears so much now of the persecution of
our poor brethren."

" Tut ! my uncle can defy them."

" He has gone to the provost of the Mercer Guild about
this notice of the quartering of the dragoons.''

" Ah, you have not told me of that."

" Here it is." She rose and took up a slip of blue paper
with a red seal dangling from it which lay upon the table.
His strong, black brows knitted together as he glanced at it.

"Take notice," it ran, "that you, Theophile Catinat,
cloth-mercer of the Rue St. Martin, are hereby required to
give shelter and rations to twenty men of the Languedoc
Blue Dragoons under Captain Dalbert, until such time as
you receive a further notice. [Signed] De Beaupre (Com-
missioner of the King)."

De Catinat knew well how this method of annoying Hugue-
nots had been practised all over France, but he had flattered
himself that his own position at court would have insured
his kinsman from such an outrage. He threw the paper
down with an exclamation of anger.

" When do they come ? '

" Father said to-night.''

" Then they shall not be here long. To-morrow I shall
have an order to remove them. But the sun has sunk behind
St. Martin's Church, and I should already be upon my way.'

" No, no ; you must not go yet."

"TELL ME, ADELE, WHY DO YOU LOOK TROUBLED ? "

a. -r

THE MAN FROM AMERICA. 5

u I would that I could give you into your father's charge
first, for I fear to leave you alone when these troopers may
come. And yet no excuse will avail me if I am not at
Versailles. But see, a horseman has stopped before the
door. He is not in uniform. Perhaps he is a messenger
from your father."

The girl ran eagerly to the window, and peered out, with
her hand resting upon her cousin's silver-corded shoulder.

" Ah ! " she cried, " I had forgotten. It is the man from
America. Father said that he would come to-day."

" The man 'from America ! ' repeated the soldier, in a
tone of surprise, and they both craned their necks from the
window. The horseman, a sturdy, broad-shouldered young
man, clean-shaven and crop-haired, turned his long, swarthy
face and his bold features in their direction as he ran his
eyes over the front of the house. He had a soft-brimmed
gray hat of a shape which was strange to Parisian eyes,
but his sombre clothes and high boots were such as any
citizen might have worn. Yet his general appearance was
so unusual that a group of townsfolk had already assembled
round him, staring with open mouth at his horse and him-
self. A battered gun with an extremely long barrel was
fastened by the stock to his stirrup, while the muzzle stuck
up into the air behind him. At each holster was a large
dangling black bag, and a gaily coloured red-slashed blanket
was rolled up at the back of his saddle. His horse, a strong-
limbed dapple-gray, all shiny with sweat above, and all
caked with mud beneath, bent its fore knees as it stood, as
though it were overspent. The rider, however, having
satisfied himself as to the house, sprang lightly out of his
saddle, and disengaging his gun, his blanket, and his bags,
pushed his way unconcernedly through the gaping crowd
and knocked loudly at the door.

" Who is he, then ? " asked De Catinat. " A Canadian ?
I am almost one myself. I had as many friends on one

6 THE REFUGEES.

side of the sea as on the other. Perchance I know him.
There are not so many white faces yonder, and in two
years there was scarce one from the Saguenay to Nipissing
that I had not seen."

" Nay, he is from the English provinces, Amory. But
he speaks our tongue. His mother was of our blood."

" And his name ? '

" Is Amos — Amos — ah, those names ! Yes, Green, that
was it — Amos Green. His father and mine have done
much trade together, and now his son, who, as I under-
stand, has lived ever in the woods, is sent here to see
something of men and cities. Ah, my God ! what can
have happened now ? '

A sudden chorus of screams and cries had broken out
from the passage beneath, with the shouting of a man and
the sound of rushing steps. In an instant De Catinat was
half-way down the stairs, and was staring in amazement
at the scene in the hall beneath.

Two maids stood, screaming at the pitch of their lungs,
at either side. In the centre the aged man-servant Pierre, a
stern old Calvinist, whose dignity had never before been
shaken, was spinning round, waving his arms, and roaring
so that he might have been heard at the Louvre. Attached to
the gray worsted stocking which covered his fleshless calf was
a fluffy black hairy ball, with one little red eye glancing up,
and the gleam of two white teeth where it held its grip.
At the shrieks, the young stranger, who had gone out to
his horse, came rushing back, and plucking the creature off,
he slapped it twice across the snout, and plunged it head-fore-
most back into the leather bag from which it had emerged.

"It is nothing," said he, speaking in excellent French;
" it is only a bear."

" Ah, my God ! " cried Pierre, wiping the drops from his
brow. "Ah, it has aged me five years ! I was at the door,
bowing to monsieur, and in a moment it had me from behind."

THE MAN" FROM AMERICA

THE MAN FROM AMERICA. J

" It was my fault for leaving the bag loose. The creature
was but pupped the day we left New York, six weeks come
Tuesday. Do I speak with my father's friend, Monsieur
Catinat ? "

"No, monsieur," said the guardsman, from the staircase,
" My uncle is out, but I am Captain de Catinat, at your ser-
vice, and here is Mademoiselle Catinat, who is your hostess."

The stranger ascended the stair, and paid his greetings to
them both with the air of a man who was as shy as a wild
deer, and yet who had steeled himself to carry a thing
through. He walked with them to the sitting-room, and
then in an instant was gone again, and they heard his feet
thudding upon the stairs. Presently he was back, with a
lovely glossy skin in his hands. " The bear is for your
father, mademoiselle," said he. "This little skin I have
brought from America for you. It is but a trifle, and yet
it may serve to make a pair of mocassins or a pouch."

Adele gave a cry of delight as her hands sank into the
depths of its softness. She might well admire it, for no
king in the world could have had a finer skin. " Ah, it is
beautiful, monsieur," she cried; "and what creature is it;
and where did it come from ? '

" It is a black fox. I shot it myself last fall up near the
Iroquois villages at Lake Oneida."

She pressed it to her cheek, her white face showing up
like marble against its absolute blackness. "I am sorry
my father is not here to welcome you, monsieur," she said ;
" but I do so very heartily in his place. Your room is
above. Pierre will show you to it, if you wish."

" My room ? For what ? "

" Why, monsieur, to sleep in ! '

" And must I sleep in a room ? '

De Catinat laughed at the gloomy face of the American.

"You shall not sleep there if you do not wish," said he.

The other brightened at once, and stepped across to the

8 THE REFUGEES.

further window, which looked down upon the court-yard.
"Ah,'' he cried. "There is a beech-tree there, made-
moiselle, and if I might take my blanket out yonder, I
should like it better than any room. In winter, indeed,
one must do it, but in summer I am smothered with a
ceiling pressing down upon me."

" You are not from a town then ? ' said De Catinat.

" My father lives in New York — two doors from the
house of Peter Stuyvesant, of whom you must have heard.
He is a very hardy man, and he can do it, but I — even a
few days of Albany or of Schenectady are enough for me.
My life has been in the woods.''

" I am sure that my father would wish you to sleep where
you like and to do what you like, as long as it makes you
happy."

" I thank you, mademoiselle. Then I shall take my
things out there, and I shall groom my horse."

" Nay, there is Pierre."

" I am used to doing it myself."

"Then I will come with you," said De Catinat, "for I
would have a word with you. Until to-morrow, then, Adele,
farewell ! "

" Until to-morrow, Amory."

The two young men passed down stairs together, and the
guardsman followed the American out into the yard,

"You have had a long journey," he said.

"Yes; from Rouen."

" Are you tired ? '

"No; I am seldom tired."

" Remain with the lady, then, until her father comes back."

" Why do you say that ? '

"Because I have to go, and she might need a protector."

The stranger said nothing, but he nodded, and throwing
off his black coat, set to work vigorously rubbing down his
travel-stained horse.

CHAPTER II.
A MONARCH IN DESHABILLE.

IT was the morning after the guardsman had returned to
his duties. Eight o'clock had struck on the great clock of
Versailles, and it was almost time for the monarch to rise.
Through all the long corridors and frescoed passages of the
monster palace there was a subdued hum and rustle, with a
low muffled stir of preparation, for the rising of the king
was a great state function in which many had a part to
play. A servant with a steaming silver saucer hurried
past, bearing it to Monsieur de St. Quentin, the state barber.
Others, with clothes thrown over their arms, bustled down
the passage which led to the ante-chamber. The knot of
guardsmen in their gorgeous blue and silver coats straight-
ened themselves up and brought their halberds to attention,
while the young officer, who had been looking wistfully out
of the window at some courtiers who were laughing and
chatting on the terraces, turned sharply upon his heel, and
strode over to the white and gold door of the royal bedroom.

He had hardly taken his stand there before the handle
was very gently turned from within, the door revolved noise-
lessly upon its hinges, and a man slid silently through the
aperture, closing it again behind him.

"Hush!'1 said he, with his finger to his thin, precise lips,
while his whole clean-shaven face and high-arched brows
were an entreaty and a warning. " The king still sleeps."

The words were whispered from one to another among
the group who had assembled outside the door. The
speaker, who was Monsieur Bontems, head valet de chambre,
gave a sign to the officer of the guard, and led him into the
window alcove from which he had lately come.

10 THE REFUGEES.

" Good-morning, Captain de Catinat," said he, with a
mixture of familiarity and respect in his manner.

" Good-morning, Bontems. How has the king slept ? '

"Admirably."

" But it is his time.*'

" Hardly."

" You will not rouse him yet ? *'

" In seven and a half minutes." The valet pulled out
the little round watch which gave the law to the man who
was the law to twenty millions of people. " Who com-
mands at the main guard ? '

" Major de Brissac."

" And you will be here ? '

" For four hours I attend the king."

"Very good. He gave me some instructions for the
officer of the guard, when he was alone last night after
the petit coucher. He bade me to say that Monsieur de
Vivonne was not to be admitted to the grand lever. You
are to tell him so."

" I shall do so."

" Then, should a note come from her — you understand
me, the new one -

" Madame de Maintenon ? '

" Precisely. But it is more discreet not to mention
names. Should she send a note, you will take it and
deliver it quietly when the king gives you an opportunity."

"It shall be done."

" But if the other should come, as is possible enough-
the other, you understand me, the former —

"Madame de Montespan."

" Ah, that soldierly tongue of yours, captain ! Should
she come, I say, you will gently bar her way, with
courteous words, you understand, but on o account is
she to be permitted to enter the royal roc

" Very good, Bontems,"

A MONARCH IN DESHABILLE. II

" And now we have but three minutes.'1

He strode through the rapidly increasing group of people
in the corridor with an air of proud humility, as befitted
a man who, if he was a valet, was at least the king of
valets by being the valet of the king. Close by the door
stood a line of footmen, resplendent in their powdered
wigs, red plush coats, and silver shoulder-knots.

" Is the officer of the oven here ? ' asked Bontems.

" Yes, sir," replied a functionary who bore in front of him
an enamelled tray heaped with pine shavings.

" The opener of the shutters ? '

" Here, sir."

" The remover of the taper ? '

" Here, sir."

" Be ready for the word." He turned the handle once
more, and slipped into the darkened room.

It was a large square apartment, with two high windows
upon the further side, curtained across with priceless velvet
hangings. Through the chinks the morning sun shot a few
little gleams, which widened as they crossed the room to
break in bright blurs of light upon the primrose-tinted wall.
A large arm-chair stood by the side of the burned-out fire,
shadowed over by the huge marble mantel-piece, the back
of which was carried up, twining and curving into a thou-
sand arabesque and armorial devices until it blended with
the richly painted ceiling. In one corner a narrow couch
with a rug thrown across it showed where the faithful
Bontems had spent the night.

In the very centre of the chamber there stood a large
four-post bed, with curtains of Gobelin tapestry looped back
from the pillow. A square of polished rails surrounded it,
leaving a space some five feet in width all round between
the enclosure and the bedside. Within this enclosure, or
ruelle, stood a small round table, covered over with a white
napkin, upon which lay a silver platter and an enamelled

12 THE REFUGEES.

cup, the one containing a little Frontiniac wine and water,
the other bearing three slices of the breast of a chicken, in
case the king should hunger during the night.

As Bontems passed noiselessly across the room, his feet
sinking into the moss-like carpet, there was the heavy close
smell of sleep in the air, and he could hear the long thin
breathing of the sleeper. He passed through the opening
in the rails, and stood, watch in hand, waiting for the exact
instant when the iron routine of the court demanded that
the monarch should be roused. Beneath him, from under
the costly green coverlet of Oriental silk, half buried in the
fluffy Valenciennes lace which edged the pillow, there pro-
truded a round black bristle of close-cropped hair, with the
profile of a curving nose and petulant lip outlined against
the white background. The valet snapped his watch, and
bent over the sleeper.

" I have the honour to inform your Majesty that it is
half-past eight," said he.

"Ah!' The king slowly opened his large dark-brown
eyes, made the sign of the cross, and kissed a little dark
reliquary which he drew from under his night-dress. Then
he sat up in bed, and blinked about him with the air of a
man who is collecting his thoughts.

" Did you give my orders to the officer of the guard,
Bontems ? ' he asked.

"Yes, sire."

"Who is on duty?"

" Major de Brissac at the main guard, and Captain de
Catinat in the corridor."

" De Catinat! Ah, the young man who stopped my
horse at Fontainebleau. I remember him. You may
give the signal, Bontems."

The chief valet walked swiftly across to the door and
threw it open. In rushed the officer of the ovens and
the four red-coated, white-wigged footmen, ready-handed.

A MONARCH IX DESHABILLE. 13

silent-footed, each intent upon his own duties. The one
seized upon Bontems' rug and couch, and in an instant
had whipped them off into an ante-chamber ; another had
carried away the "en cas " meal and the silver taper-stand ;
while a third drew back the great curtains of stamped velvet
and let a flood of light into the apartment. Then, as the
flames were already flickering among the pine shavings in
the fireplace, the officer of the ovens placed two round logs
crosswise above them, for the morning air was chilly, and
withdrew with his fellow-servants.

They were hardly gone before a more august group
entered the bed-chamber. Two walked together in front,
the one a youth little over twenty years of age, middle-
sized, inclining to stoutness, with a slow, pompous bearing,
a well-turned leg, and a face which was comely enough in
a mask-like fashion, but which was devoid of any shadow
of expression, except perhaps of an occasional lurking gleam
of mischievous humour. He was richly clad in plum-
coloured velvet, with a broad band of blue silk across his
breast, and the glittering edge of the order of St. Louis
protruding from under it. His companion was a man of
forty, swarthy, dignified, and solemn, in a plain but rich
dress of black silk with slashes of gold at the neck and
sleeves. As the pair faced the king there was sufficient
resemblance between the three faces to show that they were
of one blood, and to enable a stranger to guess that the
older was Monsieur, the younger brother of the king, while
the other was Louis the Dauphin, his only legitimate child,
and heir to a throne to which in the strange workings of
Providence neither he nor his sons were destined to ascend.

Strong as was the likeness between the three faces, each
with the curving Bourbon nose, the large full eye, and the
thick Hapsburg under-lip, their common heritage from
Anne of Austria, there was still a vast difference of tem-
perament and character stamped upon their features. The

14 THE REFUGEES,

king was now in his six-and-fortieth year, and the cropped
black head was already thinning a little on the top, and
shading away to gray over the temples. He still, however,
retained much of the beauty of his youth, tempered by the
dignity and sternness which increased with his years. His
dark eyes were full of expression, and his clear-cut features
were the delight of the sculptor and the painter. His firm
and yet sensitive mouth and his thick, well-arched brows
gave an air of authority and power to his face, while the
more subdued expression which was habitual to his brother
marked the man whose whole life had been spent in one
long exercise of deference and self-effacement. The dauphin,
on the other hand, with a more regular face than his father,
had none of that quick play of feature when excited, or that
kingly serenity when composed, which had made a shrewd
observer say that Louis, if he were not the greatest monarch
that ever lived, was at least the best fitted to act the part.

Behind the king's son and the king's brother there entered
a little group of notables and of officials whom duty had
called to this daily ceremony. There was the grand master
of the robes, the first lord of the bed-chamber, the Due du
Maine, a pale youth clad in black velvet, limping heavily
with his left leg, and his little brother, the young Comte de
Toulouse, both of them the illegitimate sons of Madame de
Montespan and the king. Behind them, again, was the first
valet of the wardrobe, followed by Fagon, the first physician,
Telier, the head surgeon, and three pages in scarlet and
gold who bore the royal clothes. Such were the partakers
in the family entry, the highest honour which the court of
France could aspire to.

Bontems had poured on the king's hands a few drops of
spirits of wine, catching them again in a silver dish ; and the
first lord of the bed-chamber had presented the bowl of holy
water with which he made the sign of the cross, muttering to
himself the short office of the Holy Ghost. Then, with a

A MONARCH IN DESHABILLE. 15

nod to his brother and a short word of greeting to the dauphin
and to the Due du Maine, he swung his legs over the side
of the bed, and sat in his long silken night-dress, his little
white feet dangling from beneath it — a perilous position for
any man to assume, were it not that he had so heart-felt a
sense of his own dignity that he could not realise that under
any circumstances it might be compromised in the eyes of
others. So he sat, the master of France, and yet the slave
to every puff of wind, for a wandering draught had set
him shivering and shaking. Monsieur de St. Quentin, the
noble barber, flung a purple dressing-gown over the royal
shoulders, and placed a long many-curled court wig upon
his head, while Bontems drew on his red stockings and
laid before him his slippers of embroidered velvet. The
monarch thrust his feet into them, tied his dressing-gown,
and passed out to the fireplace, where he settled himself
down in his easy-chair, holding out his thin delicate hands
towards the blazing logs, while the others stood round in a
semicircle, waiting for the grand lever which was to follow.

"How is this, messieurs?' the king asked suddenly,
glancing round him with a petulant face. " I am conscious
of a smell of scent. Surely none of you would venture to
bring perfume into the presence, knowing, as you must all
do, how offensive it is to me."

The little group glanced from one to the other with
protestations of innocence. The faithful Bontems, how-
ever, with his stealthy step, had passed along behind them,
and had detected the offender.

" My lord of Toulouse, the smell comes from you," he

said.

The Comte de Toulouse, a little ruddy-cheeked lad, flushed

up at the detection.

" If you please, sire, it is possible that Mademoiselle de
Grammont may have wet my coat with her casting-bottle
when we all played together at Marly yesterday," he stam-

1 6 THE REFUGEES.

mered. " I had not observed it, but if it offends your
Majesty

"Take it away! take it away!" cried the king. "Pah!
it chokes and stifles me ! Open the lower casement, Bon-
tems. No ; never heed, now that he is gone. Monsieur
de St. Quentin, is this not our shaving morning ? '

" Yes, sire ; all is ready."

" Then why not proceed ? It is three minutes after the
accustomed time. To work, sir ; and you, Bontems, give
word for the grand lever."

It was obvious that the king was not in a very good
humour that morning. He darted little quick questioning
glances at his brother and at his sons, but whatever
complaint or sarcasm may have trembled upon his lips, was
effectually stifled by De St. Quentin's ministrations. With
the nonchalance born of long custom, the official covered
the royal chin with soap, drew the razor swiftly round it,
and sponged over the surface with spirits of wine. A
nobleman then helped to draw on the king's black velvet
haut-de-chausses, a second assisted in arranging them, while
a third drew the night-gown over the shoulders^ and handed
the royal shirt, which had been warming before the fire.
His diamond-buckled shoes, his gaiters, and his scarlet
inner vest were successively fastened by noble courtiers,
each keenly jealous of his own privilege, and over the vest
was placed the blue ribbon with the cross of the Holy Ghost
in diamonds, and that of St. Louis tied with red. To one
to whom the sight was new, it might have seemed strange
to see the little man, listless, passive, with his eyes fixed
thoughtfully on the burning logs, while this group of men,
each with a historic name, bustled round him, adding a
touch here and a touch there, like a knot of children with a
favourite doll. The black undercoat was drawn on, the
cravat of rich lace adjusted, the loose overcoat secured,
two handkerchiefs of costly point carried forward upon an

A MONARCH IN DESHABILLE. 17

enamelled saucer, and thrust by separate officials into each
side pocket, the silver and ebony cane laid to hand, and the
monarch was ready for the labours of the day.

During the half-hour or so which had been occupied in
this manner there had been a constant opening and closing
of the chamber door, and a muttering of names from the
captain of the guard to the attendant in charge, and from
the attendant in charge to the first gentleman of the
chamber, ending always in the admission of some new
visitor. Each as he entered bowed profoundly three times,
as a salute to majesty, and then attached himself to his
own little clique or coterie, to gossip in a low voice over the
news, the weather, and the plans of the day. Gradually
the numbers increased, until by the time the king's frugal
first breakfast of bread and twice-watered wine had been
carried in, the large square chamber was quite filled with a
throng of men, many of whom had helped to make the
epoch the most illustrious of French history. Here, close
by the king, was the harsh but energetic Louvois, all-power-
ful now since the death of his rival Colbert, discussing a
question of military organisation with two officers, the one
a tall and stately soldier, the other a strange little figure,
undersized and misshapen, but bearing the insignia of a
marshal of France, and owning a name which was of evil
omen over the Dutch frontier, for Luxembourg was looked
upon already as the successor of Conde, even as his com-
panion Vauban was of Turenne. Beside them, a small
white-haired clerical with a kindly face, Pere la Chaise>
confessor to the king, was whispering his views upon
Jansenism to the portly Bossuet, the eloquent Bishop of
Meaux, and to the tall thin young Abbe de Fenelon, who
listened with a clouded brow, for it was suspected that his
own opinions were tainted with the heresy in question.
There, too, was Le Brun, the painter, discussing art in
a small circle which contained his fellow-workers Verrip

1 8 'THE REFUGEES.

and Laguerre, the architects Blondel and Le Notre, and
sculptors Girardon, Puget, Desjardins, and Coysevox, whose
works had done so much to beautify the new palace of the
king. Close to the door, Racine, with his handsome face
wreathed in smiles, was chatting with the poet Boileau
and the architect Mansard, the three laughing and jesting
with the freedom which was natural to the favourite servants
of the king, the only subjects who might walk unannounced
and without ceremony into and out of his chamber.

"What is amiss with him this morning?" asked Boileau
in a whisper, nodding his head in the direction of the
royal group. " I fear that his sleep has not improved his
temper."

" He becomes harder and harder to amuse," said Racine
shaking his head. " I am to be at Madame de Maintenon's
room at three to see whether a page or two of the Phedre
may not work a change."

" My friend," said the architect, " do you not think
that madame herself might be a better consoler than your
Phedre?"

" Madame is a wonderful woman. She has brains, she
has heart, she has tact — she is admirable."

"And yet she has one gift too many."

"And that is ? "

"Age."

" Pooh ! What matter her years when she can carry
them like thirty ? What an eye ! What an arm ! And
besides, my friends, he is not himself a boy any longer."

" Ah, but that is another thing."

"A man's age is an incident, a woman's a calamity."

"Very true. But a young man consults his eye, and an
older man his ear. Over forty, it is the clever tongue
which wins ; under it, the pretty face."

" Ah, you rascal ! Then you have made up your mind that
five-and- forty years with tact will hold the field against

A MONARCH IN DESHABILLE. I9

nine-and-thirty with beauty. Well, when your lady has
won, she will doubtless remember who were the first to pay
court to her."

" But I think that you are wrong, Racine,''

"Well, we shall see."

" And if you are wrong -

"Well, what then? "

" Then it may be a little serious for you."

"And why?"

il The Marquise de Montespan has a memory/'

" Her influence may soon be nothing more."

" Do not rely too much upon it, my friend. When the
Fontanges came up from Provence, with her blue eyes and
her copper hair, it was in every man's mouth that Montespan
had had her day. Yet Fontanges is six feet under a church
crypt, and the marquise spent two hours with the king last
week. She has won once, and may again."

"Ah, but this is a very different rival. This is no slip
of a country girl, but the cleverest woman in France."

" Pshaw, Racine, you know our good master well, or you
should, for you seem to have been at his elbow since the
days of the Fronde. Is he a man, think you, to be amused
forever by sermons, or to spend his days at the feet of a
lady of that age, watching her at her tapestry-work, and
fondling her poodle, when all the fairest faces and brightest
eyes of France are as thick in his salons as the tulips in a
Dutch flower-bed ? No, no, it will be the Montespan, or if
not she, some younger beauty."

" My dear Boileau, I say again that her sun is setting.
Have you not heard the news ? '

" Not a word."

" Her brother, Monsieur de Vivonne, has been refused
the entree"

" Impossible ! '

" But it is a fact."

20 THE REFUGEES.

'' And when ? "

" This very morning."

'c From whom had you it ? '

"From De Catinat, the captain of the guard, He had
his orders to bar the way to him."

"Ha! then the king does indeed mean mischief. That
is why his brow is so cloudy this morning, then. By my
faith, if the marquise has the spirit with which folk credit
her, he may find that it was easier to win her than to slight
her."

" Ay ; the Mortemarts are no easy race to handle."

" Well, heaven send him a safe way out of it! But who
is this gentleman ? His face is somewhat grimmer than
those to which the court is accustomed,, Ha ! the king
catches sight of him, and Louvois beckons to him to
advance. By my faith, he is one who would be more at
his ease in a tent than under a painted ceiling."

The stranger who had attracted Racine's attention \vas a
tall thin man, with a high aquiline nose, stern fierce gray
eyes, peeping out from under tufted brows, and a counten-
ance so lined and marked by age, care, and stress of weather
that it stood out amid the prim courtier faces which sur-
rounded it as an old hawk might in a cage of birds of gay
plumage. He was clad in a sombre-coloured suit which
had become usual at court since the king had put aside
frivolity and Fontanges, but the sword which hung from his
waist was no fancy rapier, but a good brass-hilted blade in
a stained leather-sheath, which showed every sign of having
seen hard service. He had been standing near the door,
his black-feathered beaver in his hand, glancing with a
half-amused, half-disdainful expression at the groups of
gossips around him, but at the sign from the minister of
war he began to elbow his way forward, pushing aside in no
very ceremonious fashion all who barred his passage.

Louis possessed in a high degree the royal faculty of

A MO X ARCH IX DESHABILLE. 21

recognition. " It is years since I have seen him. but 1
remember his face well," said he, turning to his minister.
" It is the Comte de Frontenac, is it not ? '

" Yes, sire," answered Louvois ; " it is indeed Louis de
Buade, Comte de Frontenac, and formerly governor of
Canada."

" We are glad to see you once more at our lever," said
the monarch, as the old nobleman stooped his head and
kissed the white hand which was extended to him. " I
hope that the cold of Canada has not chilled the warmth of
your loyalty."

" Only death itself, sire, would be cold enough for that/'

" Then I trust that it may remain to us for many long
years. We would thank you for the care and pains which
you have spent upon our province, and if we have recalled
you, it is chiefly that we would fain hear from your own
lips how all things go there. And first, as the affairs of
God take precedence of those of France, how does the con-
version of the heathen prosper ? '

"We cannot complain, sire. The good fathers, both
Jesuits and Recollets, have done their best, though indeed
they are both rather ready to abandon the affairs of the
next world in order to meddle with those of this.''

" What say you to that, father ? ' asked Louis, glancing,
with a twinkle of the eyes, at his Jesuit confessor.

" I say, sire, that when the affairs of this world have a
bearing upon those of the next, it is indeed the duty of a
good priest, as of every other good Catholic, to guide them
right/''

"That is very true, sire," said De Frontenac, with an
angry flush upon his swarthy cheek ; "but as long as your
Majesty did me the honour to intrust those affairs to my
own guidance, I would brook no interference in the per-
formance of my duties, whether the meddler were clad in
coat or cassock,'

22 THE REFUGEES.

" Enough, sir, enough ! " said Louis sharply. " I had
asked you about the missions."

" They prosper, sire. There are Iroquois at the Sault
and the mountain, Hurons at Lorette, and Algonquins
along the whole river cotes from Tadousac in the East to
Sault la Marie, and even the great plains of the Dakotas,
who have all taken the cross as their token. Marquette
has passed down the river of the West to preach among
.the Illinois, and Jesuits have carried the Gospel to the
warriors of the Long House in their wigwams at Onondaga."

"I may add, your Majesty," said Pere la Chaise, "that
in leaving the truth there, they have too often left their lives
with it."

"Yes, sire, it is very true," cried De Frontenac cordially.
" Your Majesty has many brave men within your domains,
but none braver than these. They have come back up the
Richelieu River from the Iroquois villages with their nails
gone, their fingers torn out, a cinder where their eye should
be, and the scars of the pine splinters as thick upon their
bodies as the fleurs-de-lis on yonder curtain. Yet, with a
month of nursing from the good Ursulines, they have
used their remaining eye to guide them back to the
Indian country once more, where even the dogs have been
frightened at their haggled faces and twisted limbs."

" And you have suffered this ? ' cried Louis hotly.
"You allow these infamous assassins to live?'

" I have asked for troops, sire."

"And I have sent some."

" One regiment.'

"The Carignan-Saliere. I have no better in my service."

" But more is needed, sire."

"There are the Canadians themselves. Have you not
a militia ? Could you not raise force enough to punish
these rascally murderers of God's priests ? I had always
understood that you were a soldier,"

A MONARCH IN DESHABILLE. 23

De Frontenac's eyes flashed, and a quick answer seemed
for an instant to tremble upon his lips, but with an effort
the fiery old man restrained himself. " Your Majesty will
learn best whether I am a soldier or not," said he, ."by
asking those who have seen me at Seneffe, Mulhausen,
Salzbach, and half a score of other places where I had
the honour of upholding your Majesty's cause."

" Your services have not been forgotten."

"It is just because I am a soldier and have seen some-
thing of war that I know how hard it is to penetrate into
a country much larger than the Lowlands, all thick with
forest and bog, with a savage lurking behind every tree,
who, if he has not learned to step in time or to form line,
can at least bring down the running caribou at two hundred
paces, and travel three leagues to your one. And then
when you have at last reached their villages, and burned
their empty wigwams and a few acres of maize fields, what
the better are you then ? You can but travel back again
to your own land with a cloud of unseen men lurking behind
you, and a scalp-yell for every straggler. You are a soldier
yourself, sire. I ask you if such a war is an easy task for
a handful of soldiers, with a few censitaires straight from
the plough, and a troop of coureurs-de-bois whose hearts
all the time are with their traps and their beaver-skins."

" No, no ; I am sorry if I spoke too hastily," said Louis.
" We shall look into the matter at our council."

"Then it warms my heart to hear you say so," cried the old
governor. " There will be joy down the long St. Lawrence,
in white hearts and in red, when it is known that their great
father over the waters has turned his mind towards them.'

"And yet you must not look for too much, for Canada has
been a heavy cost to us, and we have many calls in Europe."

" Ah, sire, I would that you could see that great land.
When your Majesty has won a campaign over here, what
may come of it ? Glory, a few miles of land, Luxembourg,

24 THE REFUGEES.

Strassburg, one more city in the kingdom ; but over there,
with a tenth of the cost and a hundredth part of the force,
there is a world ready to your hand. It is so vast, sire, so
rich, so beautiful ! Where are there such hills, such forests,
such rivers ! And it is all for us if we will but take it.
Who is there to stand in our way ? A few nations of scat-
tered Indians and a thin strip of English farmers and fisher-
men. Turn your thoughts there, sire, and in a few years
you would be able to stand upon your citadel at Quebec,
and to say there is one great empire here from the snows of
the North to the warm Southern gulf, and from the waves
of the ocean to the great plains beyond Marquette's river?
and the name of this empire is France, and her king is
Louis, and her flag is the fleurs-de-lis,"

Louis's cheek had flushed at this ambitious picture, and
he had leaned forward in his chair, with flashing eyes, but
he sank back again as the governor concluded.

" On my word, count," said he, "you have caught some-
thing of this gift of Indian eloquence of which we have
heard. But about these English folk. They are Hugue-
nots, are they not ? ;

"For the most part. Especially in the North/'

" Then it might be a service to Holy Church to send
them packing. They have a city there, I am told. New-
New - How do they call it ? '

" New York, sire. They took it from the Dutch."

"Ah, New York. And have I not heard of another?
Bos — Bos "

" Boston, sire."

" That is the name. The harbours might be of service to
us. Tell me, now, Frontenac," lowering his voice so that
his words might be audible only to the count, Louvois, and
the royal circle, " what force would you need to clear these
people out ? One regiment, two regiments, and perhaps a
frigate or two ? '

A MONARCH IN DESHABILLE. 2$

But the ex-governor shook his grizzled head. " You do
not know them, sire," said he. " They are stern folk, these.
We in Canada, with all your gracious help, have found it
hard to hold our own. Yet these men have had no help,
but only hindrance, with cold and disease, and barren
lands, and Indian wars, but they have thriven and multi-
plied until the woods thin away in front of them like ice in
the sun, and their church bells are heard where but yester-
day the wolves were howling. They are peaceful folk, and
slow to war, but when they have set their hands to it,
though they may be slack to begin, they are slacker still to
cease. To put New England into your Majesty's hands, I
would ask fifteen thousand of your best troops and twenty
ships of the line."

Louis sprang impatiently from his chair, and caught up
his cane. "I wish," said he, "that you would imitate these
people who seem to you to be so formidable, in their excel-
lent habit of doing things for themselves. The matter may
stand until our council. Reverend father, it has struck the
hour of chapel, and all else may wait until we have paid our
duties to heaven." Taking a missal from the hands of an
attendant, he walked as fast as his very high heels would
permit him, towards the door, the court forming a lane
through which he might pass, and then closing up behind
to follow him in order of precedence.

CHAPTER III.
THE HOLDING OF THE DOOR.

WHILST Louis had been affording his court that which he
had openly stated to be the highest of human pleasures-
the sight of the royal face — the young officer of the guard
outside had been very busy passing on the titles of the
numerous applicants for admission, and exchanging usually
a smile or a few words of greeting with them, for his frank
handsome face was a well-known one at the court. With
his merry eyes and his brisk bearing, he looked like a man
who was on good terms with fortune. Indeed, he had good
cause to be so, for she had used him well. Three years ago
he had been an unknown subaltern bushfighting with Al-
gonquins and Iroquois in the wilds of Canada. An ex-
change had brought him back to France and into the
regiment of Picardy, but the lucky chance of having seized
the bridle of the king's horse one winter's day in Fontaine-
bleau when the creature was plunging within a few yards
of a deep gravel-pit had done for him what ten campaigns
might have failed to accomplish. Now as a trusted officer
of the king's guard, young, gallant, and popular, his lot
was indeed an enviable one. And yet, with the strange
perversity of human nature, he was already surfeited with
the dull if magnificent routine of the king's household, and
looked back with regret to the rougher and freer days of his
early service. Even there at the royal door his mind had
turned away from the frescoed passage and the groups of
courtiers to the wild ravines and foaming rivers of the
West, when suddenly his eyes lit upon a face which he
had last seen among those very scenes.

TtiE HOLDING OF THE DOOR.

n' 'Ah, Monsieur de Frontenac ! ' he cried. " You cannot
have forgotten me."

"What! De Catinat ! Ah, it is a joy indeed to see a
face from over the water ! But there is a long step between
a subaltern in the Carignan and a captain in the guards.
You have risen rapidly."

" Yes ; and yet I may be none the happier for it. There
are times when I would give it all to be dancing down the
Lachine Rapids in a birch canoe, or to see the red and the
yellow on those hill-sides once more at the fall of the leaf."

"Ay," sighed De Frontenac. "You know that my for-
tunes have sunk as yours have risen. I have been recalled,
and De la Barre is in my place. But there will be a storm
there which such a man as he can never stand against.
With the Iroquois all dancing the scalp-dance, and Dongan
behind them in New York to whoop them on, they will need
me, and they will find me waiting when they send. I will
seethe king now, and try if I cannot rouse him to play the
great monarch there as well as here. Had I but his power
in my hands, I should change the world's history."

"Hush ! No treason to the captain of the guard," cried
De Catinat laughing, while the stern old soldier strode past
him into the king's presence.

A gentleman very richly dressed in black and silver had
come up during this short conversation, and advanced, as
the door opened, with the assured air of a man whose rights
are beyond dispute. Captain de Catinat, however, took a
quick step forward, and barred him off from the door.

" I am very sorry, Monsieur de Vivonne," said he, " but
you are forbidden the presence."

" Forbidden the presence ! ' I ? You are mad ! 7: He
stepped back with gray face and staring eyes, one shaking
hand half raised in protest.

" I assure you that it is his order."

" But it is incredible. It is a mistake."

28 THE REFUGEES.

" Very possibly."

" Then you will let me past."

" My orders leave me no discretion. >:

" If I could have one word with the king.13

" Unfortunately, monsieur, it is impossible."

" Only one word."

" It really does not rest with me, monsieur."

The angry nobleman stamped his foot, and stared at the
door as though he had some thoughts of forcing a passage.
Then turning on his heel, he hastened away down the
corridor with the air of a man who has come to a decision.

"There, now,'' grumbled De Catinat to himself, as he
pulled at his thick dark moustache, " he is off to make
some fresh mischief. I'll have his sister here presently, as
like as not, and a pleasant little choice between breaking
my orders and making an enemy of her for life. I'd rather
hold Fort Richelieu against the Iroquois than the king's
door against an angry woman. By my faith, here is a lady,
as I feared ! Ah, heaven be praised ! it is a friend, and not
a foe. Good-morning, Mademoiselle Nanon."

" Good-morning, Captain de Catinat.''

The new-comer was a tall, graceful brunette, her fresh
face and sparkling black eyes the brighter in contrast with
her plain dress.

" I am on guard, you see. I cannot talk with you."

" I cannot remember having asked monsieur to talk with
me."

" Ah, but you must not pout in that pretty way, or else
I cannot help talking to, you," whispered the captain.
" What is this in your hand, then ? '

" A note from Madame de Maintenon to the king. You
will hand it to him, will you not ? '

" Certainly, mademoiselle. And how is madame, your
mistress ? '

" Oh, her director has been with her all the morning, and

THE HOLDING OF THE DOOR. 29

his talk is very, very good ; but it is also very, very sad.
We are not very cheerful when Monsieur Godet has been
to see us. But I forget monsieur is a Huguenot, and
knows nothing of directors."

" Oh, but I do not trouble about such differences. I let
the Sorbonne and Geneva fight it out between them. Yet
a man must stand by his family, you know."

" Ah ! if monsieur could talk to Madame de Maintenon
a little ! She would convert him."

" I would rather talk to Mademoiselle Nanon, but if -

" Oh ! ' There was an exclamation, a whisk of dark-
skirts, and the soubrette had disappeared down a side
passage.

Along the broad, lighted corridor was gliding a very
stately and beautiful lady, tall, graceful, and exceedingly
haughty. She was richly clad in a bodice of gold-coloured
camlet and a skirt of gray silk trimmed with gold and silver
lace. A handkerchief of priceless Genoa point half hid and
half revealed her beautiful throat, and was fastened in frorit
by a cluster of pearls, while a rope of the same, each one
worth a bourgeois' income, was coiled in and out through
her luxuriant hair. The lady was past her first youth, it is
true, but the magnificent curves of her queenly figure, the
purity of her complexion, the brightness of her deep-lashed
blue eyes, and the clear regularity of her features enabled her
still to claim to be the most handsome as well as the most
sharp-tongued woman in the court of France. So beautiful
was her bearing, the carriage of her dainty head upon her
proud white neck, and the sweep of her stately walk, that the
young officer's fears were overpowered in his admiration,
and he found it hard, as he raised his hand in salute, to
retain the firm countenance which his duties demanded.

" Ah, it is Captain de Catinat," said Madame de Monte-
span, with a smile which was more embarrassing to him
than any frown could have been.

3

30 THE REFUGEES.

" Your humble servant, marquise."

" I am fortunate in finding a friend here, for there has
been some ridiculous mistake this morning."

" I am concerned to hear it."

" It was about my brother, Monsieur de Vivonne. It is
almost too laughable to mention, but he was actually refused
admission to the lever."

" It was my misfortune to have to refuse him, madame."

" You, Captain de Catinat ? And by what right ? ' She
had drawn up her superb figure, and her large blue eyes
were blazing with indignant astonishment.

" The king's order, madame."

" The king ! Is it likely that the king would cast a public
slight upon my family ? From whom had you this pre-
posterous order ? '

" Direct from the king through Bontems."

" Absurd ! Do you think that the king would venture
to exclude a Mortemart through the mouth of a valet ?
You have been dreaming, captain."

" I trust that it may prove so, madame."

"But such dreams are not very fortunate to the dreamer. Go,
tell the king that I am here, and would have a word with him."

" Impossible, madame."

"And why ?"

" I have been forbidden to carry a message."

" To carry any message ? '

" Any from you, madame."

" Come, captain, you improve. It only needed this in-
sult to make the thing complete. You may carry a mes-
sage to the king from any adventuress, from any decayed
governess ' -ohe laughed shrilly at her description of her
rival — " but none from Francoise de Mortemart, Marquise
de Montespan ?

" Such are my orders, madame. It pains me deeply to
be compelled to carry them out."

THE HOLDING OF THE DOOR. 31

" You may spare your protestations, captain. You may
yet find that you have every reason to be deeply pained. For
the last time, do you refuse to carry my message to the
king?"

" I must, madame."

"Then I carry it myself."

She sprang forward at the door, but he slipped in front of
her with outstretched arms.

" For God's sake, consider yourself, madame ! ' he en-
treated. " Other eyes are upon you."

" Pah ! Canaille ! ' She glanced at the knot of Switzers,
whose sergeant had drawn them off a few paces, and who
stood open-eyed, staring at the scene. " I tell you that I
will see the king."

" No lady has ever been at the morning lever."

"Then I shall be the first."

"You will ruin me if you pass."

" And none the less, I shall do so."

The matter looked serious. De Catinat was a man of
resource, but for once he was at his wit's end. Madame de
Montespan's resolution, as it was called in her presence, or
effrontery, as it was termed behind her back, was proverbial.
If she attempted to force her way, would he venture to
use violence upon one who only yesterday had held the for-
tunes of the whole court in the hollow of her hand, and who,
with her beauty, her wit, and her energy, might very well
be in the same position to-morrow ? If she passed him,
then his future was ruined with the king, who'never brooked
the smallest deviation from his orders. On the other hand,
if he thrust her back, he did that which could never be
forgiven, and which would entail some deadly vengeance
should she return to power. It was an unpleasant dilemma.
But a happy thought flashed into his mind at the very
moment when she, with clenched hand and flashing eyes,
was on the point of making a fresh attempt to pass him.

32 THE REFUGEES.

" If madame would deign to wait," said he soothingly,
" the king will be on his way to the chapel in an in-
stant."

" It is not yet time."

" I think the hour has just gone."

" And why should I wait like a lackey ? '

" It is but a moment, madame."

" No, I shall not wait." She took a step forward towards
the door.

But the guardsman's quick ear had caught the sound of
moving feet from within, and he knew that he was master
of the situation.

" I will take madame's message," said he.

" Ah, you have recovered your senses ! Go, tell the king
that I wish to speak with him."

He must gain a little time yet. " Shall I say it through
the lord in waiting ? "

" No ; yourself."

"Publicly?"

" No, no ; for his private ear."

" Shall I give a reason for your request ? v

" Oh, you madden me ! Say what I have told you, and
at once."

But the young officer's dilemma was happily over. At
that instant the double doors were swung open, and Louis
appeared in the opening, strutting forwards on his high-
heeled shoes, his stick tapping, his broad skirts flapping,
and his courtiers spreading out behind him. He stopped
as he came out, and turned to the captain of the guard.

"You have a note for me ? '

"Yes, sire."

The monarch slipped it into the pocket of his scarlet under-
vest, and war> advancing once more when his eyes fell upon
Madame de Montespan standing very stiff and erect in the
middle of the passage. A dark flush of anger shot to his

THE HOLDING OF THE DOOR. 33

brow, and he walked swiftly past her without a word ; but
she turned and kept pace with him down the corridor.

" I had not expected this honour, madame," said he.

" Nor had I expected this insult, sire."

" An insult, madame ? You forget yourself."

" No ; it is you who have forgotten me, sire."

"You intrude upon me."

" I wished to hear my fate from your own lips," she
whispered. " I can bear to be struck myself, sire, even by
him who has my heart. But it is hard to hear that one's
brother has been wounded through the mouths of valets
and Huguenot soldiers for no fault of his, save that his
sister has loved too fondly."

" It is no time to speak of such things,"

"When can I see you, then, sire ? '

" In your chamber."

" At what hour ? "

"At four."

"Then I shall trouble your Majesty no further."

She swept him one of the graceful courtesies for which
she was famous, and turned away down a side passage
with triumph shining in her eyes. Her beauty and her
spirit had never failed her yet, and now that she had the
monarch's promise of an interview she never doubted that
she could do as she had done before, and win1 back the heart
of the man, however much against the conscience of the
king.

CHAPTER IV.

THE FATHER OF HIS PEOPLE.

Louis had walked on to his devotions in no very charitable
frame of mind, as was easily to be seen from his clouded
brow and compressed lips. He knew his late favourite well,
her impulsiveness, her audacity, her lack of all restraint
when thwarted or opposed. She was capable of making a
hideous scandal, of turning against him that bitter tongue
which had so often made him laugh at the expense of others,
perhaps even of making some public exposure which would
leave him the butt and gossip of Europe. He shuddered
at the thought. At all costs such a catastrophe must be
averted. And yet how could he cut the tie which bound
them ? He had broken other such bonds as these ; but the
gentle La Valliere had shrunk into a convent at the very
first glance which had told her of waning love. That was
true affection. But this woman would struggle hard, fight
to the bitter end, before she would quit the position which
was so dear to her. She spoke of her wrongs. What were
her wrongs ? In his intense selfishness, nurtured by the
eternal flattery which was the very air he breathed, he could
not see that the fifteen years of her life which he had
absorbed, or the loss of the husband whom he had sup-
planted, gave her any claim upon him. In his view he had
raised her to the highest position which a subject could
occupy. Now he was weary of her, and it was her duty to
retire with resignation, nay, even with gratitude for past
favours. She should have a pension, and the children
should be cared for. What could a reasonable woman ask
for more ?

FATHER of ttis PEOPLE. 35

And then his motives for discarding her were so excellent.
He turned them over in his mind as he knelt listening to
the Archbishop of Paris reciting the mass, and the more
he thought, the more he approved. His conception of the
deity was as a larger Louis, and of heaven as a more gor-
geous Versailles. If he exacted obedience from his twenty
millions, then he must show it also to this one who had a
right to demand it of him. On the whole, his conscience
acquitted him. But in this one matter he had been lax.
From the first coming of his gentle and forgiving young
wife from Spain, he had never once permitted her to be
without a rival. Now that she was dead, the matter was
no better. One favourite had succeeded another, and if De
Montespan had held her own so long, it was rather from
her audacity than from his affection. But now Father La
Chaise and Bossuet were ever reminding him that he had
topped the summit of his life, and was already upon that
downward path which leads to the grave. His wild out-
burst over the unhappy Fontanges had represented the last
flicker of his passions. The time had come for gravity and
for calm, neither of which was to be expected in the com-
pany of Madame de Montespan.

But he had found out where they were to be enjoyed.
From the day when De Montespan had introduced the
stately and silent widow as a governess for his children, he
had found a never-failing and ever-increasing pleasure in
her society. In the early days of her coming he had sat for
hours in the rooms of his favourite, watching the tact and
sweetness of temper with which her dependent controlled
the mutinous spirits of the petulant young Due du Maine
and the mischievous little Comte de Toulouse. He had
been there nominally for the purpose of superintending the
teaching, but he had confined himself to admiring the
teacher. And then in time he too had been drawn into
the attraction of that strong sweet nature, and had found

36 THE REFUGEES.

himself consulting her upon points of conduct, and acting
upon her advice with a docility which he had never shown
before to minister or mistress. For a time he had thought
that her piety and her talk of principle might be a mere
mask, for he was accustomed to hypocrisy all round him.
It was surely unlikely that a woman who was still beautiful,
with as bright an eye and as graceful a figure as any in his
court, could, after a life spent in the gayest circles, preserve
the spirit of a nun. But on this point he was soon un-
deceived, for when his own language had become warmer
than that of friendship, he had been met by an iciness of
manner and a brevity of speech which had shown him that
there was one woman at least in his dominions who had a
higher respect for herself than for him. And perhaps it was
better so. The placid pleasures of friendship were very
soothing after the storms of passion. To sit in her room
every afternoon, to listen to talk which was not tainted with
flattery, and to hear opinions which were not framed to
please his ear, were the occupations now of his happiest
hours. And then her influence over him was all so good !
She spoke of his kingly duties, of his example to his sub-
jects, of his preparation for the world beyond, and of the
need for an effort to snap the guilty ties which he had
formed. She was as good as a confessor — a confessor with
a lovely face and a perfect arm.

And now he knew that the time had come when he must
choose between her and De Montespan. Their influences
were antagonistic. They could not continue together. He
stood between virtue and vice, and he must choose. Vice
was very attractive too, very cornel)7, very witty, and hold-
ing him by that chain of custom which is so hard to shake
off. There were hours when his nature swayed strongly
over to that side, and when he was tempted to fall back into
his old life. But Bossuet and Pere La Chaise were ever at
his elbows to whisper encouragement, and, above all, there

THE FATHER OF HIS PEOPLE. 37

was Madame de Maintenon to remind him of what was due
to his position and to his six-and-forty years. Now at last
he had braced himself for a supreme effort. There was no
safety for him while his old favourite was at court. He
knew himself too well to have any faith in a lasting change
so long as she was there ever waiting for his moment of
weakness. She must be persuaded to leave Versailles, if
without a scandal it could be done. He would be firm
when he met her in the afternoon, and make her under-
stand once for all that her reign was forever over.

Such were the thoughts which ran through the king's
head as he bent over the rich crimson cushion which topped
his prie-dieu of carved oak. He knelt in his own enclosure
to the right of the altar, with his guards and his immediate
household around him, while the court, ladies and cavaliers,
filled the chapel. Piety was a fashion now, like dark over-
coats and lace cravats, and no courtier was so worldly-minded
as not to have had a touch of grace since the king had taken
to religion. Yet they looked very bored, these soldiers and
seigneurs, yawning and blinking over the missals, while
some who seemed more intent upon their devotions were
really dipping into the latest romance of Scudery or Calper-
nedi, cunningly bound up in a sombre cover. The ladies,
indeed, were more devout, and were determined that all
should see it, for each had lit a tiny taper, which she held
in front of her on the plea of lighting up her missal, but
really that her face might be visible to the king, and inform
him that hers was a kindred spirit. A few there may have
been, here and there, whose prayers rose from their hearts,
and who were there of their own free will ; but the policy
of Louis had changed his noblemen into courtiers and his
men of the world into hypocrites, until the whole court
was like one gigantic mirror which reflected his own like-
ness a hundredfold.

It was the habit of Louis, as he walked back from the

TH£ REFUGEES.

chapel, to receive petitions or to listen to any tales of wrong
which his subjects might bring to him. His way, as he
returned to his rooms, lay partly across an open space, and
here it was that the suppliants were wont to assemble. On
this particular morning there were but two or three— a
Parisian, who conceived himself injured by the provost of
his guild, a peasant whose cow had been torn by a hunts-
man's dog, and a farmer who had had hard usage from his
feudal lord. A few questions, and then a hurried order to
his secretary disposed of each case, for if Louis was a tyrant
himself, he had at least the merit that he insisted upon
being the only one within his kingdom. He was about to
resume his way again, when an elderly man, clad in the
garb of a respectable citizen, and with a strong deep-lined
face which marked him as a man of character, darted
forward, and threw himself down upon one knee in front
of the monarch.

"Justice, sire, justice ! ': he cried.

"What is this, then?" asked Louis. "Who are you,
and what is it that you want ? '

"I am a citizen of Paris, and I have been cruelly
wronged."

"You seem a very worthy person, If you have indeed
been wronged you shall have redress. What have you to
complain of? '

"Twenty of the Blue Dragoons of Languedoc are quar-
tered in my house, with Captain Dalbert at their head.
They have devoured my food, stolen my property, and
beaten my servants, yet the magistrates will give me no

redress."

"On my life, justice seems to be administered in a
strange fashion in our city of Paris ! ' exclaimed the
king wrathfully.

" It is indeed a shameful case," said Bossuet.

" And yet there may be a very good reason for it," sug-

THE FATHER OF HIS PEOPLE. 39

gested Pere La Chaise. " I would suggest that your
Majesty should ask this man his name, his business, and
why it was that the dragoons were quartered upon him."
" You hear the reverend father's question."
" My name, sire, is Catinat, by trade I am a merchant in
cloth, and I am treated in this fashion because I am of the
Reformed Church,"

" I thought as much ! ' cried the confessor.
" That alters matters," said Bossuet.

The king shook his head and his brow darkened. " You
have only yourself to thank, then. The remedy is in your
hands."

" And how, sire ? "
6' By embracing the only true faith. ;r
" I am already a member of it, sire."

The king stamped his foot angrily. " I can see that you
are a very insolent heretic," said he. " There is but one
Church in France, and that is my Church. If you are out-
side that, you cannot look to me for aid."

" My creed is that of my father, sire, and of my grand-
father."

" If they have sinned it is no reason why you should.
My own grandfather erred also before his eyes were
opened."

" But he nobly atoned for his error," murmured the
Jesuit.

" Then you will not help me, sire ? '
" You must first help yourself."

The old Huguenot stood up with a gesture of despair,
while the king continued on his way, the two ecclesiastics,
on either side of him, murmuring their approval into his
ears.

" You have done nobly, sire."

" You are truly the first son of the Church."

" You are the worthy successor of St. Louis."

4o THE REFUGEES.

But the king bore the face of a man who was not abso-
lutely satisfied with his own action.

"You do not think,
then, that these people
have too hard a mea-
sure ? " said he.

" Too hard ? Nay,
your Majesty errs on the
side of mercy."

" I hear that they are
leaving my kingdom in
great numbers."

"And surely it is better
so, sire ; for what bless-
ing can come upon a
country which has such
stubborn infidels within
its boundaries "?

"Those who are trait-
ors to God can scarce be
loyal to the king," re-
marked Bossuet. "Your
Majesty's power would
be greater if there were
no temple, as they call
their dens of heresy,
within your dominions."
"My grandfather pro-
mised them protection.
They are shielded, as
you well know, by the
edict which he gave at
Nantes."

" But it lies with your Majesty to undo the mischief that
has been done."

"THE OLD HUGUENOT STOOD UP WITH
A GESTURE OF DESPAIR".

THE FATHER OF HIS PEOPLE. 41

" And how ? "

" By recalling the edict."

"And driving into the open arms of my enemies two millions
of my best artisans and of my bravest servants. No, no, father,
I have, I trust, every zeal for Mother-Church, but there is
some truth in what De Frontenac said this morning of the
evil which comes from mixing the affairs of this world with
those of the next. How say you, Louvois ? '

" With all respect to the Church, sire, I would say that the
devil has given these men such cunning of hand and of brain
that they are the best workers and traders in your Majesty's
kingdom. I know not how the state coffers are to be filled
if such tax-payers go from among us. Already many have
left the country and taken their trades with them. If all were
to go, it would be worse for us than a lost campaign."

" But, " remarked Bossuet, " if it were once known that the
king's will had been expressed, your Majesty may rest assured
that even the worst of his subjects bear him such love that they
would hasten to come within the pale of Holy Church. As
long as the edict stands, it seems to them that the king is
lukewarm, and that they may abide in their error."

The king shook his head. "They have always been
stubborn folk," said he.

" Perhaps," remarked Louvois, glancing maliciously at
Bossuet," were the bishops of France to make an offering to
the state of the treasures of their sees, we might then do
without these Huguenot taxes."

" All that the Church has is at the king's service," answered
Bossuet curtly.

" The kingdom is mine and all that is in it," remarked
Louis, as they entered the Grand Salon, in which the court
assembled after chapel, " yet I trust that it may be long before
I have to claim the wealth of the Church."

We trust so, sire," echoed the ecclesiastics,

But we may reserve such topics for our council-chamber.

a

42 THE REFUGEES.

Where is Mansard ? I must see his plans for the new wing
at Marly." He crossed to a side table, and was buried in an
instant in his favourite pursuit, inspecting the gigantic plans
of the great architect, and inquiring eagerly as to the progress
of the work.

C; I think,'' said Pere La Chaise, drawing Bossuet aside, " that
your Grace has made some impression upon the king's mind."

" WTith your powerful assistance, father."

" Oh, you may rest assured that I shall lose no opportunity
of pushing on the good work."

" If you take it in hand, it is done."

" But there is another who has more weight than I."

"The favourite, De Montespan ?':

"No, no; her day is gone. It is Madame de Main-
tenon."

" I hear that she is very devout."

"Very. But she has no love for my Order. She is a
Sulpitian. Yet we may all work to one end. Xow if you
were to speak to her, your Grace."

"With all my heart."

" Show her how good a service it would be could she bring
about the banishment of the Huguenots.''

" I shall do so."

"And offer her in return that we will promote - ' he
bent forward and whispered into the prelate's ear.

" What ! He would not do it ! "

" And why? The queen is dead."

" The widow of the poet Scarron ! '

" She is of good birth. Her grandfather and his were
dear friends."

" It is impossible !"

" But I know his heart, and I say it is possible.'

" You certainly know his heart, father, if any can. Bui
such a thought had never entered my head."

" Then let it enter and remain there. If she will serve the

THE FATHER OF HIS PEOPLE. 43

Church, the Church will serve her. But the king beckons,
and I must go."

The thin dark figure hastened off through the throng of
courtiers, and the great Bishop of Meaux remained standing
with his chin upon his breast, sunk in reflection.

By this time all the court was assembled in the Grand Salon,
and the huge room was gay from end to end with the silks.
the velvets, and the brocades of the ladies, the glitter of
jewels, the flirt of painted fans, and the sweep of plume or
aigrette. The grays, blacks, and browns of the men's coats
toned down the mass of colour, for all must be dark, when
the king was dark, and only the blues of the officers' uniforms,
and the pearl and gray of the musketeers of the guard, re-
mained to call back those early days of the reign when the
men had vied with the women in the costliness and brilliancv

-

of their wardrobes. And if dresses had changed, manners
had done so even more. The old levity and the old passions
lay doubtless very near the surface, but grave faces and
serious talk were the fashion of the hour. It was no longer
the lucky coup at the lansquenet table, the last comedy of
Moliere. or the new opera of Lully about which they
gossiped, but it was on the evils of Jansenism, on the expul-
sion of Arnauld from the Sorbonne, on the insolence of Pascal,
or on the comparative merits of two such popular preachers
as Bourdaloue and Massilon. So. under a radiant ceiling
and over a many-coloured floor, surrounded by immortal
paintings, set thickly in gold and ornament, there moved
these nobles and ladies of France, all moulding themselves
upon the one little dark figure in their midst, who was himself
so far from being his own master that he hung balanced even
now between two rival women, who were playing a game
in which the future of France and his own destiny were the
stakes,

CHAPTER V.
CHILDREN OF BELIAL.

THE elderly Huguenot had stood silent after his repulse
by the king, with his eyes cast moodily downwards, and
a face in which doubt, sorrow, and anger contended for
the mastery. He was a very large, gaunt man, rawboned
and haggard, with a wide forehead, a large, fleshy nose,
and a powerful chin. He wore neither wig nor powder,
but Nature had put her own silvering upon his thick grizzled
locks, and the thousand puckers which clustered round the
edges of his eyes, or drew at the corners of his mouth, gave
a set gravity to his face which needed no device of the
barber to increase it. Yet, in spite of his mature years,
the swift anger with which he had sprung up when the
king refused his plaint, and the keen fiery glance which
he had shot at the royal court as they filed past him with
many a scornful smile and whispered gibe at his expense,
all showed that he had still preserved something of the
strength and of the spirit of his youth. He was dressed
as became his rank, plainly and yet well, in a sad-coloured
brown kersey coat with silver-plated buttons, knee-breeches
of the same, and white woollen stockings, ending in broad-
toed black leather shoes cut across with a great steel buckle.
In one hand he carried his low felt hat, trimmed with gold
edging, and in the other a little cylinder of paper containing
a recital of his wrongs, which he had hoped to leave in the
hands of the king's secretary.

His doubts as to what his next step should be were soon
resolved for him in a very summary fashion. These were
days when, if the Huguenot was not absolutely forbidden

CHILDREN OF BELIAL. 45

in France, he was at least looked upon as a man v/ho
existed upon sufferance, and who was unshielded by the
laws which protected his Catholic fellow-subjects. For
twenty years the stringency of the persecution had increased
until there was no weapon which bigotry could employ,
short of absolute expulsion, which had not been turned
against him. He was impeded in his business, elbowed
out of all public employment, his house filled with troops,
his children encouraged to rebel against him, and all redress
refused him for the insults and assaults to which he was
subjected. Every rascal who wished to gratify his personal
spite, or to gain favour with his bigoted superiors, might
do his worst upon him without fear of the law. Yet, in
spite of all, these men clung to the land which disowned
them, and, full of the love for their native soil which lies
so deep in a Frenchman's heart, preferred insult and con-
tumely at home to the welcome which would await them
beyond the seas. Already, however, the shadow of those
days was falling upon them when the choice should no
longer be theirs.

Two of the king's big blue-coated guardsmen were on
duty at that side of the palace, and had been witnesses to his
unsuccessful appeal. Now they tramped across together to
where he was standing, and broke brutally into the current
of his thoughts.

" Now, Hymn-books," said one gruffly, " get off again
about your business."

" You're not a very pretty ornament to the king's path-
way," cried the other, with a hideous oath. "Who are
you, to turn up your nose at the king's religion, curse you?'

The old Huguenot shot a glance of anger and contempt
at them, and was turning to go, when one of them thrust at
his ribs with the butt end of his halberd.

" Take that, you dog ! " he cried. " Would you dare to

look like that at the king's guard ! '

4

46 THE REFUGEES.

" Children of Belial," cried the old man, with his hand
pressed to his side, "were I twenty years younger you
would not have dared to use me so.''

" Ha ! you would still spit your venom, would you ?
That is enough, Andre ! He has threatened the king's
guard. Let us seize him and drag him to the guard-room."

The two soldiers dropped their halberds and rushed upon
the old man, but, tall and strong as they were, they found
it no easy matter to secure him. With his long sinewy
arms and his wiry frame, he shook himself clear of them
again and again, and it was only when his breath had failed
him that the two, torn and panting, were able to twist
round his wrists, and so secure him. They had hardly won
their pitiful victory, however, before a stern voice and a
sword flashing before their eyes, compelled them to release
their prisoner once more.

It was Captain de Catinat, who, his morning duties over,
had strolled out on to the terrace and had come upon this
sudden scene of outrage. At the sight of the old man's face
he gave a violent start, and drawing his sword, had rushed
forward with such fury that the two guardsmen not only
dropped their victim, but, staggering back from the threaten-
ing sword point, one of them slipped and the other rolled
over him, a revolving mass of blue coat and white kersey.

" Villains ! ' roared De Catinat. " What is the meaning
of this?"

The two had stumbled on to their feet again, very shame-
faced and ruffled.

" If you please, captain," said one, saluting, " this is a
Huguenot who abused the royal guard."

" His petition had been rejected by the king, captain, and
yet he refused to go."

De Catinat was white with fury. " And so, when a
French citizen has come to have a word with the great
master of his country, he must be harassed by two Swiss

CHILDREN OF BELIAL. 47

dogs like you ? ' he cried. " By my faith, we shall soon
see about that ! '

He drew a little silver whistle from his pocket, and at the
shrill summons an old sergeant and half a dozen soldiers
came running from the guard-room.

" Your names ? " asked the captain sternly.

" Andre Meunier."

" And yours ? '

"Nicholas Klopper."

" Sergeant, you will arrest these men, Meunier and
Klopper."

" Certainly, captain," said the sergeant, a dark grizzled
old soldier of Conde and Turenne.

" See that they are tried to-day."

" And on what charge, captain ? '

" For assaulting an aged and respected citizen who had
come on business to the king."

" He was a Huguenot on his own confession," cried the
culprits together.

"Hum!'3 The sergeant pulled doubtfully at his long
moustache. " Shall we put the charge in that form, cap-
tain ? Just as the captain pleases." He gave a little shrug
of his epauletted shoulders to signify his doubt whether any
good could arise from it.

"No," said De Catinat, with a sudden happy thought. "I
charge them with laying their halberds down while on duty,
and with having their uniforms dirty and disarranged."

"That is better," answered the sergeant, with the free-
dom of a privileged veteran. " Thunder of God, but you
have disgraced the guards ! An hour on the wooden horse
with a musket at either foot may teach you that halberds
were made for a soldier's hand, and not for the king's grass-
plot. Seize them! Attention! Right half turn! March!"

And away went the little clump of guardsmen with the
sergeant in the rear.

48 THE REFUGEES.

The Huguenot had stood in the background, grave and
composed, without any sign of exultation, during this
sudden reversal of fortune; but when the soldiers were
gone, he and the young officer turned warmly upon each
other.

" Amory, I had not hoped to see you ! '

" Nor I you, uncle. What, in the name of wonder,
brings you to Versailles ? '

" My wrongs, Amory. The hand of the wicked is heavy
upon us, and whom can we turn to, save only the king ? "

The young officer shook his head. " The king is at heart
a good man," said he. " But he can only see the world
through the glasses which are held before him. You have
nothing to hope from him."

" He spurned me from his presence.'1

" Did he ask your name ? '

" He did, and I gave it."

The young guardsman whistled. " Let us walk to the
gate," said he. " By my faith, if my kinsmen are to come
and bandy arguments with the king, it may not be long
before my company finds itself without its captain."

"The king would not couple us together. But indeed,
nephew, it is strange to me how you can live in this house
of Baal and yet bow down to no false gods."

" I keep my belief in my own heart."

The older man shook his head gravely.

Your ways lie along a very narrow path," said he,
with temptation and danger ever at your feet. It is hard
for you to walk with the Lord, Amory, and yet go hand in
hand with the persecutors of His people."

" Tut, uncle!' said the young man impatiently. "I
am a soldier of the king's, and I am willing to let the black
gown and the white surplice settle these matters between
them. Let me live in honour and die in my duty, and I
am content to wait to know the rest.'

tt

a

CHILDREN OF BELIAL. 49

" Content, too, to live in palaces, and eat from fine linen,"
said the Huguenot bitterly, " when the hands of the wicked
are heavy upon your kinsfolk, and there is a breaking of
phials, and a pouring forth of tribulation, and a wailing and
a weeping throughout the land."

"What is amiss, then?' asked the young soldier, who
was somewhat mystified by the scriptural language in use
among the French Calvinists of the day.

"Twenty men of Moab have been quartered upon me,
with one Dalbert, their captain, who has long been a
scourge to Israel."

"Captain Claude Dalbert, of the Languedoc Dragoons?
I have already some small score to settle with him."

"Ay, and the scattered remnant has also a score against
this murderous dog and self-seeking Ziphite."

" What has he done, then ? '

" His men are over my house like moths in a cloth bale.
No place is free from them. He sits in the room which
should be mine, his great boots on my Spanish-leather
chairs, his pipe in his mouth, his wine-pot at his elbow, and
his talk a hissing and an abomination. He has beaten old
Pierre of the warehouse."

"Ha!"

"And thrust me into the cellar."

"Ha!"

" Because I have dragged him back when in his drunken
love he would have thrown his arms about your cousin
Adele."

" Oh ! " The young man's colour had been rising and
his brows knitted at each successive charge, but at this
last his anger boiled over, and he hurried forward with fury
in his face, dragging his elderly companion by the elbow.
They had been passing through one of those winding paths,
bordered by high hedges, which thinned away every here
and. there to give a glimpse of some prowling faun or weary

50 THE REFUGEES.

nymph who slumbered in marble amid the foliage. The
few courtiers who met them gazed with surprise at so ill-
assorted a pair of companions. But the young soldier was
too full of his own plans to waste a thought upon their
speculations. Still hurrying on, he followed a crescent path
which led past a dozen stone dolphins shooting water out
of their mouths over a group of Tritons, and so through an
avenue of great trees which looked as if they had grown
there for centuries, and yet had in truth been carried over
that very year by incredible labour from St. Germain and
Fontainebleau. Beyond this point a small gate led out of
the grounds, and it was through it that the two passed, the
elder man puffing and panting with this unusual haste.

" How did you come, uncle ? :

"In a caleche."

" Where is it? "

"That is it, beyond the auberge."

" Come, let us make for it."

"And you, Amory, are you coming ? '

" My faith, it is time that I came, from what you tell me.
There is room for a man with a sword at his side in this
establishment of yours."

" But what would you do ? '

" I would have a word with this Captain Dalbert."

"Then I have wronged you, nephew, when I said even
now that you were not whole-hearted towards Israel."

" I know not about Israel," cried De Catinat impatiently.
" I only know that if my Adele chose to worship the thunder
like an Abenaqui squaw, or turned her innocent prayers to
the Mitche Manitou, I should like to set eyes upon the man
who would dare to lay a hand upon her. Ha, here comes
our caleche ! Whip up, driver, and five livres to you if you
pass the gate of the Invalides within the hour."

It was no light matter to drive fast in an age of spring-
less carnages and deeply rutted roads, but the driver iashecl

CHILDREN OF BELIAL. 51

at his two rough undipped horses, and the caleche jolted
and clattered upon its way. As they sped on, with the
road-side trees dancing past the narrow windows, and the
white dust streaming behind them, the guardsman drummed
his fingers upon his knees, and fidgeted in his seat with
impatience, shooting an occasional question across at his
grim companion.

" When was all this, then ? '

" It was yesterday/ night."

"And where is Adele now? '

" She is at home."

"And this Dalbert ? "

"Oh, he is there also ! "

" What ! you have left her in his power while you came
away to Versailles ? '

" She is locked in her room."

"Pah! what is a lock?' The young man raved with
his hands in the air at the thought of his own impotence.

"And Pierre is there."

" He is useless."

"And Amos Green."

" Ah, that is better. He is a man, by the look of him."

"His mother was one of our own folk from Staten Island,
near Manhattan. She was one of those scattered lambs
who fled early before the wolves, when first it was seen
that the king's hand waxed heavy upon Israel. He speaks
French, and yet he is neither French to the eye, nor are
his ways like our ways."

" He has chosen an evil time for his visit.''

" Some wise purpose may lie hid in it."

" And you have left him in the house ? '

"Yes; he was sat with this Dalbert, smoking with him,
and telling him strange tales."

" What guard could he be ? He is a stranger in a
strange land. You did ill to leave Adele thus, uncle,"

52 THE REFUGEES.

" She is in God's hands, Amory.''
" I trust so. Oh, I am on fire to be there ! "
He thrust his head through the cloud of dust which rose
from the wheels, and craned his neck to look upon the long
curving river and broad-spread city, which was already
visible before them, half hid by a thin blue haze, through
which shot the double tower of Notre Dame, with the high
spire of St. Jacques and a forest of other steeples and
minarets, the monuments of eight hundred years of devo-
tion. Soon, as the road curved down to the river-bank, the
city wall grew nearer and nearer, until they had passed the
southern gate, and were rattling over the stony causeway,
leaving the broad Luxembourg upon their right, and Colbert's
last work, the Invalides, upon their left. A sharp turn brought
them on to the river quays, and crossing over the Pont
Neuf, they skirted the stately Louvre, and plunged into the
labyrinth of narrow but important streets which extended to
the northward. The young officer had his head still thrust
out of the window, but his view was obscured by a broad
gilded carriage which lumbered heavily along in front of
them. As the road broadened, however, it swerved to one
side, and he was able to catch a glimpse of the house to
which they were making.

It was surrounded G£i every side by an immense crowd.

53

CHAPTER VI.
A HOUSE OF STRIFE.

THE house of the Huguenot merchant was a tall, narrow
building standing at the corner of the Rue St. Martin and
the Rue de Biron. It was four stories in height, grim and
grave like its owner, with high peaked roof, long diamond-
paned windows, a frame-work of black wood, with gray
plaster filling the interstices, and five stone steps which led
up to the narrow and sombre door. The upper story was
but a warehouse in which the trader kept his stock, but the
second and third were furnished with balconies edged with
stout wooden balustrades. As the uncle and the nephew
sprang out of the caleche, they found themselves upon the
outskirts of a dense crowd of people, who were swaying and
tossing with excitement, their chins all thrown forwards
and their gaze directed upwards. Following their eyes, the
young officer saw a sight which left him standing bereft of
every sensation save amazement.

From the upper balcony there was hanging head down-
wards a man clad in the bright blue coat and white breeches
of one of the king's dragoons. His hat and wig had
dropped off, and his close-cropped head swung slowly back-
wards and forwards a good fifty feet above the pavement.
His face was turned towards the street, and was of a deadly
whiteness, while his eyes were screwed up as though he
dared not open them upon the horror which faced them.
His voice, however, resounded over the whole place until
the air was filled with his screams for mercy.

Above him, at the corner of the balcony, there stood a
young man who leaned with a bent back over the balus-

5-}- THE REFUGEES.

trades, and who held the dangling dragoon by either ankle.
His face, however, was not directed towards his victim, but
was half turned over his shoulder to confront a group of
soldiers who were clustering at the long, open window
which led out into the balcony. His head, as he glanced
at them, was poised with a proud air of defiance, while
they surged and oscillated in the opening, uncertain whether
to rush on or to retire.

Suddenly the crowd gave a groan of excitement. The
young man had released his grip upon one of the ankles,
and the dragoon hung now by one only, his other leg
flapping helplessly in the air. He grabbed aimlessly with
his hands at the wall and the wood-work behind him, still
yelling at the pitch of his lungs.

"Pull me up, son of the devil, pull me up!" he screamed.
" Would you murder me, then ? Help, good people,
help ! "

" Do you want to come up, captain ? ' said the strong
clear voice of the young man above him, speaking excellent
French, but in an accent which fell strangely upon the ears
of the crowd beneath.

" Yes, sacred name of God, yes ! '

" Order off your men, then."

"Away, you dolts, you imbeciles ! Do you wish to see
me dashed to pieces ? Away, I say ! Off with you ! r

" That is better," said the youth, when the soldiers had
vanished from the window. He gave a tug at the dragoon's
leg as he spoke, which jerked him up so far that he could
twist round and catch hold of the lower edge of the balcony.
" How do you find yourself now ? : he asked.

" Hold me, for heaven's sake, hold me ! '

" I have you quite secure."

"Then pull me up ! '

" Not so fast, captain. You can talk very well where
you are."

A HOUSE OF STRIFE. 55

I M

" Let me up, sir, let me up !

" All in good time. I fear that it is inconvenient to you to
talk with your heels in the air/'

"Ah, you would murder me ! '

" On the contrary. I am going to pull you up."

" Heaven bless you ! '

" But only on conditions."

" Oh. they are granted ! I am slipping ! '

"You will leave this house — you and your men. You
will not trouble this old man or this young girl any further.
Do you promise ? '

" Oh yes ; we shall go."

"Word of honour? '

" Certainly. Only pull me up ! '

" Not so fast. It may be easier to talk to you like this.
I do not know how the laws are over here. Maybe this
sort of thing is not permitted. You will promise me that
I shall have no trouble over the matter.''

" None, none. Only pull me up ! '

" Very good. Come along ! '

He dragged at the dragoon's leg while the other gripped
his way up the balustrade until, amid a buzz of congratula-
tion from the crowd, he tumbled all in a heap over the rail
on to the balcony, where he lay for a few moments as he
had fallen. Then staggering to his feet, without a glance
at his opponent, he rushed, with a bellow of rage, through
the open window.

While this little drama had been enacted overhead, the
young guardsman had shaken off his first stupor of amaze-
ment, and had pushed his way through the crowd with
such vigour that he and his companion had nearly reached
the bottom of the steps. The uniform of the king's guard
was in itself a passport anywhere, and the face of old Cati-
nat was so well known in the district that everyone drew
back to clear a path for him towards his house. The door

5 6 THE REFUGEES.

was flung open for them, and an old servant stood wringing
his hands in the dark passage.

" Oh, master ! Oh, master ! ' he cried.

" Such doings, such infamy ! They will murder him ! '

"Whom, then?"

"This brave monsieur from America. Oh, my God, hark
to them now ! '

As he spoke, a clatter and shouting which had burst out
again upstairs ended suddenly in a tremendous crash, with
volleys of oaths and a prolonged bumping and smashing,
which shook the old house to its foundations. The soldier
and the Huguenot rushed swiftly up the first flight of stairs,
and were about to ascend the second one, from the head of
which the uproar seemed to proceed, when a great eight-
day clock came hurtling down, springing four steps at a
time, and ending with a leap across the landing and a
crash against the wall, which left it a shattered heap of
metal wheels and wooden splinters. An instant afterwards
four men, so locked together that they formed but one
rolling bundle, came thudding down amid a debris oi
splintered stair-rails, and writhed and struggled upon the
landing, staggering up, falling down, and all breathing
together like the wind in a chimney. So twisted and
twined were they that it was hard to pick one from the
other, save that the innermost was clad in black Flemish
cloth, while the three who clung to him were soldiers of the
king. Yet so strong and vigorous was the man whom they
tried to hold that as often as he could find his feet he
dragged them after him from end to end of the passage, as
a boar might pull the curs which had fastened on to his
haunches. An officer, who had rushed down at the heels
of the brawlers, thrust his hands in to catch the civilian by
the throat, but he whipped them back again with an oath
as the man's strong white teeth met in his left thumb.
Clapping the wound to his mouth, he flashed out his sword

A HOUSE OF STRIFE. 57

and was about to drive it through the body of his unarmed
opponent, when De Catinat sprang forward and caught him
by the wrist.

"You villain, Dalbert ! ' he cried.

The sudden appearance of one of the king's own body-
guard had a magic effect upon the brawlers. Dalbert sprang
back, with his thumb still in his mouth, and his sword
drooping, scowling darkly at the new-comer. His long
sallow face was distorted with anger, and his small black
eyes blazed with passion and with the hell-fire light of
unsatisfied vengeance. His troopers had released their
victim, and stood panting in a line, while the young man
leaned against the wall, brushing the dust from his black
coat, and looking from his rescuer to his antagonists.

" I had a little account to settle with you before, Dalbert,"
said De Catinat, unsheathing his rapier.

" I am on the king's errand," snarled the other.

" No doubt. On guard, sir ! '

" I am here on duty, I tell you ! '

" Very good. Your sword, sir ! '

" I have no quarrel with you."

"No?" De Catinat stepped forward and struck him
across the face with his open hand. " It seems to me that
you have one now," said he.

"Hell and furies!' screamed the captain. "To your
arms, men ! Hola, there, from above ! Cut down this
fellow, and seize your prisoner ! Hola ! In the king's
name ! '

At his call a dozen more troopers came hurrying down
the stairs, while the three upon the landing advanced upon
their former antagonist. He slipped by them, however,
and caught out of the old merchant's hand the thick oak
stick which he carried.

" I am with you, sir," said he, taking his place beside
the guardsman.

58 THE REFUGEES.

" Call off your canaille, and fight me like a gentleman,"
cried De Catinat.

" A gentleman ! Hark to the bourgeois Huguenot, whose
family peddles cloth ! '

"You coward! I will write liar on you with my sword
point ! "

He sprang forward, and sent in a thrust which might
have found its way to Dalbert's heart had the heavy sabre
of a dragoon not descended from the side and shorn his more
delicate weapon short off close to the hilt. With a shout
of triumph, his enemy sprang furiously upon him with his
rapier shortened, but was met by a sharp blow from the
cudgel of the young stranger which sent his weapon
tinkling on to the ground. A trooper, however, on the
stair had pulled out a pistol, and clapping it within a foot
of the guardsman's head, was about to settle the combat,
once and forever, when a little old gentleman, who had
quietly ascended from the street, and who had been looking
on with an amused and interested smile at this fiery
sequence of events, took a sudden step forward, and
ordered all parties to drop their weapons with a voice so
decided, so stern, and so full of authority, that the sabre
points all clinked down together upon the parquet flooring
as though it were a part of their daily drill.

"Upon my word, gentlemen, upon my word!" said he,
looking sternly from one to the other. He was a very small,
dapper man, as thin as a herring, with projecting teeth and
a huge drooping many-curled wig, which cut off the line of
his skinny neck and the slope of his narrow shoulders. His
dress was a long overcoat of mouse-coloured velvet slashed
with gold, beneath which were high leather boots, which,
with his little gold-laced, three-cornered hat, gave a military
tinge to his appearance. In his gait and bearing he had
a dainty strut and backward cock of the head, which, taken
with his sharp black eyes, his high thin features, and his

HOUSE OF STRIFE. 59

assured manner, would impress a stranger with the feeling
that this was a man of power. And, indeed, in France or
out of it there were few to whom this man's name was not
familiar, for in all France the only figure which loomed up
as large as that of the king was this very little gentleman
who stood now, with gold snuff-box in one hand, and deep-
laced handkerchief in the other, upon the landing of the
Huguenot's house. For, who was there who did not know
the last of the great French nobles, the bravest of French
captains, the beloved Conde, victor of Recroy and hero
of the Fronde ? At the sight of his pinched, sallow
face the dragoons and their leader had stood staring,
while De Catinat raised the stump of his sword in a
salute.

" Heh, heh ! ' cried the old soldier, peering at him.
"You were with me on the Rhine — heh? I know your
face, captain. But the household was with Turenne."

" I was in the regiment of Picardy, your Highness. De
Catinat is my name."

"Yes, yes. But you, sir, who the devil are you ? '

"Captain Dalbert, your Highness, of the Languedoc
Blue Dragoons."

" Heh ! I was passing in my carriage, and I saw you
standing on your head in the air. The young man let you
up on conditions, as I understood."

" He swore he would go from the house," cried the
young stranger. u Yet when I had let him up, he set his
men upon me, and we all came downstairs together."

" My faith, you seem to have left little behind you," said
Conde smiling, as he glanced at the litter which was
strewed all over the floor. "And so you broke your parole,
Captain Dalbert ? "

" I could not hold treaty with a Huguenot and an enemy
of the king," said the dragoon sulkily.

" You could hold treaty, it appears, but not keep it. And

60 THE REFUGEES.

why did you let him go, sir, when you had him at such a
vantage ? '

" I believed his promise."

" You must be of a trusting nature."

" I have been used to deal with Indians."

"Heh! And you think an Indian's word is better than
that of an officer in the king's dragoons ? '

" I did not think so an hour ago."

" Hem ! " Conde took a large pinch of snuff, and brushed
the wandering grains from his velvet coat with his hand-
kerchief of point.

"You are very strong, monsieur," said he, glancing
keenly at the broad shoulders and arching chest of the
young stranger. "You are from Canada, I presume ? ;

" I have been there, sir. But I am from New York."

Conde shook his head. " An island ? '

" No sir ; a town."

" In what province ? '

" The province of New York."

" The chief town, then ? '
Nay; Albany is the chief town."
And how came you to speak French ? '
My mother was of French blood."
And how long have you been in Paris ? '
A day."

Heh ! And you already begin to throw your mother's
country-folk out of windows ! '

" He was annoying a young maid, sir, and I asked him to
stop, whereon he whipped out his sword, and would have
slain me had I not closed with him, upon which he called
upon his fellows to aid him. To keep them off, I swore
that I would drop him over if they moved a step. Yet
when I let him go, they set upon me again, and I know not
what the end might have been had this gentleman not stood
my friend."

a

u

u
it
II
tl

A HOUSE OF STRIFE. 6 1

" Hem ! You did very well. You are young, but you
have resource."

" I was reared in the woods, sir."

" If there are many of your kidney, you may give my
friend De Frontenac some work ere he found this empire of
which he talks. But how is this, Captain Dalbert ? What
have you to say ? '

" The king's orders, your Highness."

" Heh ! Did he order you to molest the girl ? I have
never yet heard that his Majesty erred by being too harsh
with a woman." He gave a little dry chuckle in his throat,
and took another pinch of snuff.

" The orders are, your Highness, to use every means
which may drive these people into the true Church."

" On my word, you look a very fine apostle and a pretty
champion for a holy cause," said Conde, glancing sardonic-
ally out of his twinkling black eyes at the brutal face of
the dragoon. " Take your men out of this, sir, and never
venture to set your foot again across this threshold."

" But the king's command, your Highness."

" I will tell the king when I see him that I left soldiers
and that I find brigands. Not a word, sir ! Away ! You
take your shame with you, and you leave your honour
behind." He had turned in an instant from the sneering,
strutting old beau to the fierce soldier with set face and eye
of fire. Dalbert shrank back from his baleful gaze, and
muttering an order to his men, they filed off down the stair
with clattering feet and clank of sabres.

"Your Highness," said the old Huguenot, coming forward
and throwing open one of the doors which led from the
landing, "you have indeed been a saviour of Israel and a
stumbling-block to the fro ward this day. Will you not
deign to rest under my roof, and even to take a cup of wine
ere you go onwards ? '

Conde raised his thick eyebrows at the scriptural fashion

5

62 THE REFUGEES.

of the merchant's speech, but he bowed courteously to the
invitation, and entered the chamber, looking around him
in surprise and admiration at its magnificence. With its
panelling of dark shining oak, its polished floor, its stately
marble chimney-piece, and its beautifully moulded ceiling,
it was indeed a room which might have graced a palace.

"My carriage waits below," said he, "and I must not
delay longer. It is not often that I leave my castle of
Chantilly to come to Paris, and it was a fortunate chance
which made me pass in time to be of service to honest
men. When a house hangs out such a sign as an officer
of dragoons with his heels in the air, it is hard to drive
past without a question. But I fear that as long as you
are a Huguenot, there will be no peace for you in France,

monsieur.'

"The law is indeed heavy upon us."

"And will be heavier if what I hear from court is correct.
I wonder that you do not fly the country."

" My business and my duty lie here."

" Well, every man knows his own affairs best. Would it
not be wise to bend to the storm, heh ? '

The Huguenot gave a gesture of horror.

"Well, well, I meant no harm. And where is this fair
maid who has been the cause of the broil ? '

"Where is Adele, Pierre?' asked the merchant of the
old servant, who had carried in the silver tray with a squat
flask and tinted Venetian glasses.

" I locked her in my room, master."

" And where is she now ? '

" I am here, father." The young girl sprang into the
room, and threw her arms round the old merchant's neck.
" Oh, I trust these wicked men have not hurt you, love ! '

" No, no, dear child ; none of us have been hurt, thanks
to his Highness the Prince of Conde here."

Adele raised her eyes, ancl quickly drooped them again

A HOUSE OF STRIFE 63

before the keen questioning gaze of the old soldier. " May
God reward your Highness ! ' she stammered. In her con-
fusion the blood rushed to her face, which was perfect in
feature and expression. With her sweetly delicate contour,
her large gray eyes, and the sweep of the lustrous hair,
setting off with its rich tint the little shell-like ears and
the alabaster whiteness of the neck and throat, even Conde,
who had seen all the beauties of three courts and of sixty
years defile before him, stood staring in admiration at the
Huguenot maiden.

" Heh ! On my word, mademoiselle, you make me wish
that I could wipe forty years from my account." He
bowed, and sighed in the fashion that was in vogue when
Buckingham came to the wooing of Anne of Austria, and
the dynasty of cardinals was at its height.

" France could ill spare those forty years, your Highness."

11 Heh, heh ! So quick of tongue too ? Your daughter
has a courtly wit, monsieur."

"God forbid, your Highness! She is as pure and
good . "

" Nay, that is but a sorry compliment to the court.
Surely, mademoiselle, you would love to go out into the
great world, to hear sweet music, see all that is lovely, and
wear all that is costly, rather than look out ever upon the
Rue St. Martin, and bide in this great dark house until the
roses wither upon your cheeks."

"Where my father is, I am happy at his side," said she,
putting her two hands upon his sleeve. "I ask nothing
more than I have got."

" And I think it best that you go up to your room again,"
said the old merchant shortly, for the prince, in spite of his
age, bore an evil name among women. He had come close
to her as he spoke, and had even placed one yellow hand
upon her shrinking arm, while his little dark eyes twinkled
with an ominous light.

04 THE REFUGEES.

"Tut, tut!' said he, as she hastened to obey. "You
need not fear for your little dove. This hawk, at least, is
far past the stoop, however tempting the quarry. But
indeed, I can see that she is as good as she is fair, and one
could not say more than that if she were from heaven direct.
My carriage waits, gentlemen, and I wish you all a very
good day!' He inclined his bewigged head, and strutted
off in his dainty, dandified fashion. From the window De
Catinat could see him step into the same gilded chariot
which had stood in his way as he drove from Versailles.

"By my faith," said he, turning to the young American,
"we all owe thanks to the prince, but it seems to me, sir,
that we are your debtors even more. You have risked your
life fcr my cousin, and but for your cudgel, Dalbert would
have had his blade through me when he had me at a vantage.
Your hand, sir ! These are things which a man cannot
forget."

"Ay, you may well thank him, Amory," broke in the old
Huguenot, who had returned after escorting his illustrious
guest to the carriage. " He has been raised up as a cham-
pion for the afflicted, and as a helper for thoce who are in
need. An old man's blessing upon you, Amos Green, for
my own son could not have done for me more than you, a
stranger."

But their young visitor appeared to be more embarrassed
by their thanks than by any of his preceding adventures.
The blood flushed to his weather-tanned, clear-cut face, as
smooth as that of a boy, and yet marked by a firmness of
lip and a shrewdness in the keen blue eyes which spoke of a
strong and self-reliant nature.

" I have a mother and two sisters over the water, 'r said
he diffidently.

" And you honour women for their sake ? '

"We always honour women over there. Perhaps it is
that we have so few. Over in these old countries you have

A HOUSE OF STRIFE. 65

not learned what it is to be without them. I have been
away up the lakes for furs, living for months on end the life
of a savage among the wigwams of the Sacs and the Foxes,
foul livers and foul talkers, ever squatting like toads around
their fires. Then when I have come back to Albany where
my folk then dwelt, and have heard my sisters play upon
the spinet and sing, and my mother talk to us of the France
of her younger days and of her childhood, and of all that
they had suffered for what they thought was right, then I
have felt what a good woman is, and how, like the sun-
shine, she draws out of one's .soul all that is purest and
best."

" Indeed, the ladies should be very much obliged to mon-
sieur, who is as eloquent as he is brave," said Adele Catinat,
who, standing in the open door, had listened to the latter
part of his remarks.

He had forgotten himself for the instant, and had spoken
freely and with energy. At the sight of the girl, however,
he coloured up again, and cast down his eyes.

" Much of my life has been spent in the woods," said he,
a and one speaks so little there that one comes to forget
how to do it. It was for this that my father wished me to
stay some time in France, for he would not have me grow
up a mere trapper and trader."

" And how long do you stop in Paris ? } asked the guards-
man.

" Until Ephraim Savage comes for me."

" And who is he ? "

" The master of the Golden Rod."

" And that is your ship ? '

" My father's ship. She has been to Bristol, is now at
Rouen, and then must go to Bristol again. When she
comes back once more, Ephraim comes to Paris for me, and
it will be time for me to go."

" And how like you Paris ? '

66 THE REFUGEES.

The young man smiled. " They told me ere I came that
it was a very lively place, and truly from the little that I
have seen this morning, I think that it is the liveliest place
that I have seen/'

" By my faith," said De Catinat, "you came down those
stairs in a very lively fashion, four of you together, with a
Dutch clock as an av ant-courier, and a whole train of wood-
work at your heels. And you have not seen the city yet ? '

" Only as I journeyed through it yester-evening on my
way to this house. It is a wondrous place, but I was
pent in for lack of air as I passed through it. New York is
a great city. There are said to be as many as three
thousand folk living there, and they say that they could
send out four hundred fighting-men, though I can scarce
bring myself to believe it. Yet from all parts of the city
one may see something of God's handiwork — the trees, the
green of the grass, and the shine of the sun upon the bay
and the rivers. But here it is stone and wood, and wood
and stone, look where you wilL In truth, you must be very
hardy people to keep your health in such a place.''

"And to us it is you who seem so hardy, with your life
in the forest and on the river,'' cried the young girl. " And
then the wonder that you can find your path through those
great wildernesses, where there is naught to guide you."

"Well, there again! T marvel how you can find your
way among these thousands of houses. For myself, I
trust that it will be a clear night to-night.'*

"And why? "

tf That I may see the stars0"

" But you will find no change in them. 3;

"That is it. If I can but see the stars, it will be easy
for me to know how to walk when I would find this house
again. In the daytime I can carry a knife and notch the
door-posts as I pass, for it might be hard to pick up one's
trail again, with so many folk ever passing over it."

A MOUSE OF STRIFE. 67

t)e Catinat burst out laughing again. " By my faith,
you will find Paris livelier than ever," said he, "if you
blaze your way through on the door-posts as you would
on the trees of a forest. But perchance it would be as well
that you should have a guide at first ; so, if you have two
horses ready in your stables, uncle, our friend and I might
shortly ride back to Versailles together, for I have a spell
of guard again before many hours are over. Then for
some days he might bide with me there, if he will share
a soldier's quarters, and so see more than the Rue St.
Martin can offer. How would that suit you, Monsieur
Green ? "

" I should be right glad to come out with you, if we may
leave all here in safety."

"Oh, fear not for that," said the Huguenot. "The
order of the Prince of Conde will be as a shield and a
buckler to us for many a day. I will order Pierre to saddle
the horses."

" And I must use the little time I have," said the guards-
man, as he turned away to where Adele waited for him in
the window.

CHAPTER VII.

THE NEW WORLD AND THE OLD.

THE young" American was soon ready for the expedition,
but De Catinat lingered until the last possible minute.
\Yhen at last he was able to tear himself away, he adjusted
his cravat, brushed his brilliant coat, and looked very critic-
ally over the sombre suit of his companion.
•• Where s:ot vou those?' he asked.

j

" In New York, ere I left."

'• Hem ! There is naught amiss with the cloth, and
indeed the sombre colour is the mode, but the cut is strange
to our eyes.''

'•' I onlv know that I wish that I had my fringed hunting
tunic and leggings on once more."

"This hat, now. We do not wear our brims flat like
that. See if I cannot mend it." He took the beaver, and
looping up one side of the brim, he fastened it with a golden
brooch taken from his own shirt front. " There is a martial
cock," said he, laughing, " and would do credit to the King's
Own Musketeers. The black broadcloth and silk hose will
pass, but why have you not a sword at your side? '?

" I carry a gun when I ride out."

" Mon Dieu, you will be laid by the heels as a bandit !

" I have a knife, too.''

" Worse and worse ! Well, we must dispense with the
sword, and with the gun too, I pray ! Let me re-tie your
cravat. So ! Xow if you are in the mood for a ten-mile
gallop, I am at your service."

They were indeed a singular contrast as they walked their
horses together through the narrow and crowded causeways

THE A~£U' WORLD AXD THE OLD. 69

of the Parisian streets. De Catinat. who was the older by
five years, with his delicate small-featured face, his sharply
trimmed moustache, his small but well-set and dainty figure.
and his brilliant dress, looked the very type of the great
nation to which he belonged.

His companion, however, large-limbed and strong, turn
ing his bold and yet thoughtful face from side to side, and
eagerly taking in all the strange, new life amidst •
he found himself, was also a type, unfinished it is true.
but bidding fair to be the higher of the two. His close
yellow hair, blue eyes, and heavy build showed that it was
the blood of his father, rather than that of his mother,
which ran in his veins ; and even the sombre coat and
swordless belt, if less pleasing to the eye. were true badges
of a race which found its fiercest battles and its most
glorious victories in bending nature to its will upon the
seas and in the waste places of the earth.

••What is yonder great building?' he asked, as they
emerged into a broader square.

•• It is the Louvre, one of the palaces of the king."

•• And is he there ? '

" Xay ; he lives at Versailles.''

"What! Fancy that a man should have two such
houses ! "

•• Two ! He has many mere — St. Germain. Marly. Fon
tainebleau, Clugny."

" But to what end ? A man can but live at one at a
time.'7

"Xay; he can now come or go as the lancy takes
him."

"It is a wondrous building. I have seen the Seminary
of St. Sulpice at Montreal, and thought that it was I
greatest of all houses, and yet what i< it beside this : "

•• You have been to Montreal, then ? You remember
the fort ? "

" Yes, and the Hotel Dieu, and the wooden houses iri
a row, and eastward the great mill with the wall ; but
what do you know of Montreal ? '

" I have soldiered there, and at Quebec, too. Why, my
friend, you are not the only man of the woods in Paris,
for I give you my word that I have worn the caribou
mocassins, the leather jacket, and the fur cap with the
eagle feather for six months at a stretch, and I care not
how soon I do it again."

Amos Green's eyes shone with delight at finding that
his companion and he had so much in common, and he
plunged into a series of questions which lasted until they
had crossed the river and reached the south-westerly gate
of the city. By the moat and walls long lines of men were
busy at their drill.

" Who are those, then ? " he asked, gazing at them with
curiosity.

" They are some of the king's soldiers."

" But why so many of them ? Do they await some
enemy ? '

" Nay ; we are at peace with all the world. Worse luck !"

" At peace. Why then all these men ? '

11 That they may be ready."

The young man shook his head in bewilderment. " They
might be as ready in their own homes surely. In our
country every man has his musket in his chimney corner,
and is ready enough, yet he does not waste his time when
all is at peace."

" Our king is very great, and he has many enemies."

"And who made the enemies ? '

" Why, the king, to be sure.''

" Then would it not be better to be without him ? '

The guardsman shrugged his epaulettes in despair. " We
shall both wind up in the Bastille or Vincennes at this rate,"
said he. " You must know that it is in serving the country

THE NEW WORLD AND THE OLD.

that he has made these enemies. It is but five years since
he made a peace at Nimeguen, by which he tore away
sixteen fortresses from the Spanish Lowlands. Then, also,
he had laid his hands upon Strassburg and upon Luxem-
bourg, and has chastised the Genoans, so that there are
many who would fall upon him if they thought that he was
weak."

" And why has he done all this ? '

<J Because he is a great king, and for the glory of France."

The stranger pondered over this answer for some time as
they rode on between the high, thin poplars, which threw
bars across the sunlit road.

" There was a great man in Schenectady once," said he at
last. " They are simple folk up yonder, and they all had
great trust in each other. But after this man came among
them they began to miss — one a beaver-skin and one a bag
of ginseng, and one a belt of wampum, until at last old Pete
Hendricks lost his chestnut three-year-old. Then there
was a search and a fuss until they found all that had been
lost in the stable of the new-comer, so we took him, I and
some others, and we hung him up on a tree, without ever
thinking what a great man he had been."

De Catinat shot an angry glance at his companion.
"Your parable, my friend, is scarce polite," said he. "If
you and I are to travel in peace you must keep a closer
guard upon your tongue."

" I would not give you offence, and it may be that I am
wrong/' answered the American, " but I speak as the
matter seems to me, and it is the right of a free man to do
that."

De Catinat's frown relaxed as the other turned his earnest
blue eyes upon him. " By my soul, where would the court
be if every man did that ? " said he. " But what in the
name of heaven is amiss now ? ;

His companion had hurled himself off his horse, and was

72 THE REFUGEES.

stooping low over the ground, with his eyes bent upon the
dust. Then, with quick, noiseless steps, he zigzagged along
the road, ran swiftly across a grassy bank, and stood peering
at the gap of a fence, with his nostrils dilated, his eyes
shining, and his whole face aglow with eagerness.

"The fellow's brain is gone," muttered De Catinat, as he
caught at the bridle of the riderless horse. " The sight of
Paris has shaken his wits. What in the name of the devil
ails you, that you should stand glaring there ? '

"A deer has passed," whispered the other, pointing down
at the grass. " Its trail lies along there and into the wood,
it could not have been long ago, and there is no slur to the
track, so that it was not going fast. Had we but fetched
my gun, we might have followed it, and brought the old
man back a side of venison."

" For God's sake get on your horse again ! ' cried De
Catinat distractedly. " I fear that some evil will come
upon you ere I get you safe to the Rue St. Martin again ! '

"And what is wrong now? " asked Amos Green, swing-
ing himself into the saddle.

"Why, man, these woods are the king's preserves, and
you speak as coolly of slaying his deer as though you were
on the shores of Michigan ! '

"Preserves! They are tame deer!" An expression of
deep disgust passed over his face, and spurring his horse,
he galloped onwards at such a pace that De Catinat, after
vainly endeavouring to keep up, had to shriek to him to
stop.

" It is not usual in this country to ride so madly along
the roads," he panted.

" It is a very strange country," cried the stranger, in
perplexity. " Maybe it would be easier for me to remember
what is allowed. It was but this morning that I took my
gun to shoot a pigeon that was flying over the roofs in
yonder street, and old Pierre caught my arm with a face as

THE NEW WORLD AND THE OLD. 73

though it were the minister that I was aiming at. And
then there is that old man — why, they will not even let him
say his prayers."

De Catinat laughed. "You will come to know our ways
soon,1' said he. "This is a crowded land, and if all men
rode and shot as they listed, much harm would come from
it. But let us talk rather of your own country. You have
lived much in the woods from what you tell me."

" I was but ten when first I journeyed with my uncle to
Sault la Marie, where the three great lakes meet, to trade
with the Chippewas and the tribes of the west."

" I know not what La Salle or De Frontenac would have
said to that. The trade in those parts belongs to France."

" We were taken prisoners, and so it was that I came to
see Montreal and afterwards Quebec. In the end we were
sent back because they did not know what they could do
with us."

" It was a good journey for a first."

" And ever since I have been trading — first, on the Ken-
nebec with the Abenaquis, in the great forests of Maine,
and with the Micmac fish-eaters over the Penobscot. Then
later with the Iroquois, as far west as the country of the
Senecas. At Albany and Schenectady we stored our pelts,
and so on to New York, where my father shipped them over
the sea."

" But he could ill spare you surely ? '

"Very ill. But as he was rich, he thought it best that
I should learn some things that are not to be found in the
woods. And so he sent me in the Golden Rod, under the
care of Ephraim Savage."

" Who is also of New York ? "

" Nay ; he is the first man that ever was bom at Boston."

" I cannot remember the names of all these villages."

" And yet there may come a day when their names shall
be as well known as that of Paris,"

74 THE REFUGEES.

De Catinat laughed heartily. " The woods may have
given you much, but not the gift of prophecy, my friend.
Well, my heart is often over the water even as yours is, and
I would ask nothing better than to see the palisades of
Point Levi again, even if all the Five Nations were raving
upon the other side of them. But now, if you will look
there in the gap of the trees, you will see the king's new
palace."

The two young men pulled up their horses, and looked
down at the widespreading building in all the beauty of
its dazzling whiteness, and at the lovely grounds, dotted
with fountain and with statue, and barred with hedge and
with walk, stretching away to the dense woods which
clustered round them. It amused De Catinat to watch the
swift play of wonder and admiration which flashed over his
companion's features.

" Well, what do you think of it ? ' he asked at last.

" I think that God's best work is in America, and man's
in Europe."

"Ay, and in all Europe there is no such palace as that,
even as there is no such king as he who dwells within it."

" Can I see him, think you ? '

"Who, the king? No, no; I fear that you are scarce
made for a court."

" Nay, I should show him all honour."

" How, then ? What greeting would you give him ? '

'' I would shake him respectfully by the hand, and ask as
to his health and that of his family."

'- On my word, I think that such a greeting might please
him more than the bent knee and the rounded back, and yet,
I think, my son of the woods, that it were best not to lead
you into paths where you would be lost, as would any of
the courtiers if you dropped them in the gorge of the
Saguenay. But kola ! what comes here ? It looks like
one of the carriages of the court,"

THE NEW WORLD AND THE OLD. 75

A white cloud of dust, which had rolled towards them
down the road, was now so near that the glint of gilding
and the red coat of the coachman could be seen breaking
out through it. As the two cavaliers reined their horses
aside to leave the roadway clear, the coach rumbled heavily
past them, drawn by two dapple grays, and the horsemen
caught a glimpse, as it passed, of a beautiful but haughty
face which looked out at them. An instant afterwards a
sharp cry had caused the driver to pull up his horses, and
a white hand beckoned to them through the carriage
window.

" It is Madame de Montespan, the proudest woman in
France," whispered De Catinat. " She would speak with
us, so do as I do.''

He touched his horse with the spur, gave a gambade
which took him across to the carriage, and then, sweeping
off his hat, he bowed to his horse's neck; a salute in which
he was imitated, though in a somewhat ungainly fashion,
by his companion.

"Ha, captain!" said the lady, with no very pleasant face,
" we meet again."

" Fortune has ever been good to me, madame."

" It was not so this morning.^

" You say truly. It gave me a hateful duty to perform."

"And you performed it in a hateful fashion."

" Nay, madame, what could I do more ? '

The lady sneered, and her beautiful face turned as bitter
as it could upon occasion.

"You thought that I had no more power with the king.
You thought that my day was past. No doubt it seemed
to you that you might reap favour with the new by being
the first to cast a slight upon the old."

" But, madame -

"You may spa^e your protestations. I am one who
judges by deeds not by words, Did you, then, think

76 THE REFUGEES.

that my charm had so faded, that any beauty which I ever
have had is so withered ? '

" Nay, madame, I were blind to think that."

" Blind as a noontide owl,5' said Amos Green with
emphasis.

• Madame de Montespan arched her eyebrows and glanced
at her singular admirer. " Your friend at least speaks that
which he really feels," said she. " At four o'clock to-day
we shall see whether others are of the same mind ; and if
they are, then it may be ill for those who mistook what was
but a passing shadow for a lasting cloud." She cast another
vindictive glance at the young guardsman, and rattled on
once more upon her way.

" Come on ! ' cried De Catinat curtly, for his companion
was staring open-mouthed after the carriage. " Have you
never seen a woman before ? r'

" Never such a one as that."

" Never one with so railing a tongue, I dare swear," said
De Catinat.

" Never one with so lovely a face. And yet there is a
lovely face at the Rue St. Martin also."

"You seem to have a nice taste in beauty, for all your
woodland training,"

" Yes, for I have been cut away from women so much
that when I stand before one I feel that she is something
tender and sweet and holy."

" You may find dames at the court who are both tender and
sweet, but you will look long, my friend, before you find
the holy one. This one would ruin me if she can, and
only because I have done what it was my duty to do. To
keep oneself in this court is like coming down the La
Chine Rapids where there is a rock to right, and a rock
to left, and another perchance in front, and if you so much
as graze one, where are you and your birch canoe ? But
our rocks are women, and in our canoe we bear all our

THE NEW WORLD AND THE OLD. 77

worldly fortunes. Now here is another who would sway
me over to her side, and indeed I think it may prove to be
the better side too."

They had passed through the gateway of the palace, and
the broad sweeping drive lay in front of them, dotted with
carriages and horsemen. On the gravel walks were many
gaily dressed ladies, who strolled among the flower-beds
or watched the fountains with the sunlight glinting upon
their high water sprays. One of these, who had kept her
eyes turned upon the gate, came hastening forward the
instant that De Catinat appeared. It was Mademoiselle
Nanon, the confidante of Madame de Maintenon.

" I am so pleased to see you, captain," she cried, " and I
have waited so patiently. Madame would speak with you.
The king comes to her at three, and we have but twenty
minutes. I heard that you had gone to Paris, and so I
stationed myself here. Madame has something which she
would ask you."

"Then I will come at once. Ah, De Brissac, it is well
met!"

A tall, burly officer was passing in the same uniform
which De Catinat wore. He turned at once, and came
smiling towards his comrade.

" Ah, Amory, you have covered a league or two from the
dust on your coat ! '

" We are fresh from Paris. But I am called on business.
This is my friend, Monsieur Amos Green. I leave him in
your hands, for he is a stranger from America, and would
fain see all that you can show. He stays with me at my
quarters. And my horse, too, De Brissac. You can give
it to the groom."

Throwing the bridle to his brother officer, and pressing
the hand of Amos Green, De Catinat sprang from his horse,
and followed at the top of his speed in the direction which

the young lady had already taken.

6

i CHAPTER VIII.

THE RISING SUN.

THE rooms which were inhabited by the lady who had
already taken so marked a position at the court of France
were as humble as were her fortunes at the time when they
were allotted to her, but with that rare tact and self-restraint
which were the leading features in her remarkable character,
she had made no change in her living with the increase of
her prosperity, and forbore from provoking envy and jeal-
ousy by any display of wealth or of power. In a side wing
of the palace, far from the central salons, and only to be
reached by long corridors and stairs, were the two or three
small chambers upon which the eyes, first of the court, then
of France, and finally of the world, were destined to be
turned. In such rooms had the destitute widow of the poet
Scarron been housed when she had first been brought to
court by Madame de Montespan as the governess of the
royal children, and in such rooms she still dwelt, now that
she had added to her maiden Fran9oise d'Aubigny the title
of Marquise de Maintenon, with the pension and estate
which the king's favour had awarded her. Here it was
that every day the king would lounge, finding in the con-
versation of a clever and virtuous woman a charm and a
pleasure which none of the professed wits of his sparkling
court had ever been able to give to him, and here, too, the
more sagacious of the courtiers were beginning to under-
stand, was the point, formerly to be found in the magni-
ficent salons of De Montespan, whence flowed those im-
pulses and tendencies which were so eagerly studied, and
so keenly followed up by all who wished to keep the favour

THE RISING SUN.

of the king. It was a simple creed, that of the court. Were
the king pious, then let all turn to their missals and their
rosaries. Were he rakish, then who so rakish as his de-
voted followers ? But woe to the man who was rakish
when he should be praying, or who pulled a long face
when the king wore a laughing one ! And thus it was that
keen eyes were ever fixed upon him, and upon every in-
fluence that came near him, so that the wary courtier,
watching the first subtle signs of a coming change, might
so order his conduct as to seem to lead rather than to
follow.

The young guardsman had scarce ever exchanged a word
with this powerful lady, for it was her taste to isolate
herself, and to appear with the court only at the hours of
devotion. It was therefore with some feelings both of
nervousness and of curiosity that he followed his guide
down the gorgeous corridors, where art and wealth had
been strewn with so lavish a hand. The lady paused in
front of the chamber door, and turned to her companion.

" Madame wishes to speak to you of what occurred this
morning," said she. " I should advise you to say nothing
to madame about your creed, for it is the only thing upon
which her heart can be hard." She raised her finger to
emphasise the warning, and tapping at the door, she pushed
it open. " I have brought Captain de Catinat, madame,"
said she.

"Then let the captain step in." The voice was firm, and
yet sweetly musical.

Obeying the command, De Catinat found himself in a
room which was no larger and but little better furnished
than that which was allotted to his own use. Yet, though
simple, everything in the chamber was scrupulously neat
and clean, betraying the dainty taste of a refined woman.
The stamped-leather furniture, the La Savonniere carpet,
the pictures of sacred subjects, exquisite from an artist's

8o THE REFUGEES.

point of view, the plain but tasteful curtains, all left art
impression half religious and half feminine but wholly
soothing. Indeed, the soft light, the high white statue of
the Virgin in a canopied niche, with a perfumed red lamp
burning before it, and the wooden prie-duu with the red-
edged prayer-book upon the top of it, made the apartment
look more like a private chapel than a fair lady's boudoir.

On each side of the empty fireplace was a little green -
covered arm-chair, the one for madame and the other re-
served for the use of the king. A small three-legged stool
between them \vas heaped with her work-basket and her
tapestry. On the chair which was furthest from the door,
with her back turned to the light, madame was sitting as
the young officer entered. It was her favourite position,
and yet there were few women of her years who had so
little reason to fear the sun, for a healthy life and active
habits had left her with a clear skin and delicate bloom
which any young beauty of the court might have envied.
Her figure was graceful and queenly, her gestures and pose
full of a natural dignity, and her voice, as he had already
remarked, most sweet and melodious. Her face was hand-
some rather than beautiful, set in a statuesque classical
mould, with broad white forehead, firm, delicately sensitive
mouth, and a pair of large serene gray eyes, earnest and
placid in repose, but capable of reflecting the whole play of
her soul, from the merry gleam of humour to the quick
flash of righteous anger. An elevating serenity was, how-
ever, the leading expression of her features, and in that she
presented the strongest contrast to her rival, whose beauti-
ful face was ever swept by the emotion of the moment, and
who gleamed one hour and shadowed over the next like a
corn-field in the wind. In wit and quickness of tongue it is
true that De Montespan had the advantage, but the strong
common-sense and the deeper nature of the elder woman
might prove in the end to be the better weapon. De Cati-

THE RISING SUN. 8 1

nat, at the moment, without having time to notice details,
was simply conscious that he was in the presence of a very
handsome woman, and that her large pensive eyes were
fixed critically upon him, and seemed to be reading his
thoughts as they had never been read before.

" I think that I have already seen you, sir, have I not ? "

"Yes, madame, I have once or twice had the honour of
attending upon you, though it may not have been my good
fortune to address you."

" My life is so quiet and retired that I fear that much of
what is best and worthiest at the court is unknown to me.
It is the curse of such places that evil flaunts itself before
the eye and cannot be overlooked, while the good retires in
its modesty, so that at times we scarce dare hope that it is
there. You have served, monsieur ? '

" Yes, m-adame. In the Lowlands, on the Rhine, and in
Canada."

" In Canada ! Ah ! What nobler ambition could woman
have than to be a member of that sweet sisterhood which
was founded by the holy Marie de 1'Incarnation and the
sainted Jeanne le Ber at Montreal ? It was but the other
day that I had an account of them from Father Godet des
Marais. What joy to be one of such a body, and to turn
from the blessed work of converting the heathen to the even
more precious task of nursing back health and strength into
those of God's warriors who have been struck down in the
fight with Satan ! "

It was strange to De Catinat, who knew well the sordid
and dreadful existence led by these same sisters, threatened
ever with misery, hunger, and the scalping-knife, to hear
this lady at whose feet lay all the good things of this earth
speaking enviously of their lot.

" They are very good women," said he shortly, remem-
bering Mademoiselle Nanon's warning, and fearing to
trench upon the dangerous subject.

82 THE REFUGEES.

"And doubtless you have had the privilege also of seeing
the holy Bishop Laval ? ':

" Yes, madame, I have seen Bishop Laval."

" And I trust that the Sulpitians still hold their own
against the Jesuits ? '

" I have heard, madame, that the Jesuits are the stronger
at Quebec, and the others at Montreal."

" And who is your own director, monsieur ? J:

De Catinat felt that the worst had come upon him. " I
have none, madame."

" Ah, it is too common to dispense with a director, and
yet I know not how I could guide my steps in the difficult
path which I tread if it were not for mine. Who is your
confessor, then ? "

" I have none. I am of the Reformed Church, madame."

The lady gave a gesture of horror, and a sudden harden-
ing showed itself in mouth and eye. " What, in the court
itself," she cried, " and in the neighbourhood of the king's
own person i "

De Catinat was lax enough in matters of faith, and held
his creed rather as a family tradition than from any strong
conviction, but it hurt his self-esteem to see himself re-
garded as though he had confessed to something that was
loathsome and unclean. " You will find, madame," said he
sternly, " that members of my faith have not only stood
around the throne of France, but have even seated them-
selves upon it.'1

" God has for His own all-wise purposes permitted it,
and none should know it better than I, whose grandsire,
Theodore d'Aubigny, did so much to place a crown upon
the head of the great Henry. But Henry's eyes were
opened ere his end came, and I pray — oh, from my heart I
pray — that yours may be also."

She rose, and throwing herself down upon the prie-dien,
sunk her face in her hands for some few minutes, during

THE RISING SUN. 83

which the object of her devotions stood in some perplexity
in the middle of the room, hardly knowing whether such an
attention should be regarded as an insult or as a favour.
A tap at the door brought the lady back to this world
again, and her devoted attendant answered her summons
to enter.

"The king is in the Hall of Victories, madame,1' said
she. " He will be here in five minutes."

" Very well. Stand outside, and let me know when he
comes. Now, sir," she continued, when they were alone
once more, "you gave a note of mine to the king this
morning ? ':

" I did, madame."

"And, as I understand, Madame de Montespan was re-
fused admittance to the grand lever ? "

" She was, madame."

" But she waited for the king in the passage ? '

" She did."

"And wrung from him a promise that he would see her
to-day ? "

" Yes, madame."

" I would not have you tell me that which it may seem to
you a breach of your duty to tell. But I am fighting now
against a terrible foe, and for a great stake. Do you under-
stand me?"

De Catinat bowed.

" Then what do I mean ? '

"I presume that what madame means is that she is fight-
ing for the king's favour with the lady you mentioned."

" As heaven is my judge, I have no thought of myself. I
am fighting with the devil for the king's soul."

" 'Tis the same thing, madame."

The lady smiled. " If the king's body were in peril, I
could call on the aid of his faithful guards, and not less so
now, surely, when so much more is at stake. Tell me,

84 THE REFUGEES.

then, at what hour was the king to meet the marquise in
her room ? '

" At four, madame."

" I thank you. You have done me a service, and I shall
not forget it."

"The king comes, madame," said Mademoiselle Nanon,
again protruding her head.

" Then you must go, captain. Pass through the other
room, and so into the outer passage. And take this. It is
Bossuet's statement of the Catholic faith. It has softened
the hearts of others, and may yours. Now, adieu ! '

De Catinat passed out through another door, and as he
did so he glanced back. The lady had her back to him, and
her hand was raised to the mantel-piece. At the instant
that he looked she moved her neck, and he could see what
she was doing. She was pushing back the long hand of
the clock.

CHAPTER IX.

LE ROI S'AMUSE.

CAPTAIN DE CATINAT had hardly vanished through the one
door before the other was thrown open by Mademoiselle
Nanon, and the king entered the room. Madame de Main-
tenon rose with a pleasant smile and courtesied deeply, but
there was no answering light upon her visitor's face, and he
threw himself down upon the vacant arm-chair with a pouting
lip and a frown upon his forehead.

" Nay, now this is a very bad compliment," she cried,
with the gaiety which she could assume whenever it was
necessary to draw the king from his blacker humours. "My
poor little dark room has already cast a shadow over you."

" Nay ; it is Father La Chaise and the Bishop of Meaux
who have been after me all day like two hounds on a stag,
with talk of my duty and my position and my sins, with
judgment and hell-fire ever at the end of their exhortations."

" And what would they have your Majesty do ? '

"Break the promise which I made when I came upon the
throne, and which my grandfather made before me. They
wish me to recall the Edict of Nantes, and drive the Hugue-
nots from the kingdom."

" Oh, but your Majesty must not trouble your mind about
such matters."

" You would not have me to do it, madame ?

" Not if it is to be a grief to your Majesty/

" You have, perchance, some soft feeling for the religion
cf your youth ? '

" Nay, sire ; I have nothing but hatred for heresy.

" And yet you would not have them thrust out ;

86 THE REFUGEES.

" Bethink you, sire, that the Almighty can Himself
incline their hearts to better things if He is so minded, even
as mine was inclined. May you not leave it in His hands ? '>

" On my word," said Louis, brightening, " it is well put.
I shall see if Father La Chaise can find an answer to that.
It is hard to be threatened with eternal flames because one
will not ruin one's kingdom. Eternal torment! I have
seen the face of a man who had been in the Bastille for
fifteen years. It was like a dreadful book with a scar or a
wrinkle to mark every hour of that death in life. But
Eternity ! ' He shuddered, and his eyes were filled with the
horror of his thought. The higher motives had but little
power over his soul, as those about him had long discovered,
but he was ever ready to wince at the image of the terrors to
come.

"Why should you think of such things, sire?' said the
lady, in her rich, soothing voice. " What have you to fear,
you who have been the first son of the Church ! '

" You think that I am safe, then ? '

" Surely, sire."

" But I have erred, and erred deeply. You have yourself
said as much."

" But that is all over, sire. Who is there who is without
stain ? You have turned away from temptation. Surely,
then, you have earned your forgiveness."

" I would that the queen were living once more. She
would find me a better man."

" I would that she were, sire."

" And she should know that it was to you that she owed
the change. Oh, Fran9oise, you are surely my guardian
angel, who has taken bodily form ! How can I thank you
for what you have done for me ! ' He leaned forward and
took her hand, but at the touch a sudden fire sprang into
his eyes, and he would have passed his other arm round her
had she not risen hurriedly to avoid the embrace.

LE ROI S'AMUSE. 87

" Sire ! " said she, with a rigid face and one finger up-
raised.

" You are right, you are right, Fran9oise. Sit down and
I will control myself. Still at the same tapestry, then !
My workers at the Gobelins must look to their laurels."
He raised one border of the glossy roll, while she, having
reseated herself, though not without a quick questioning
glance at her companion, took the other end into her lap
and continued her work.

" Yes, sire. It is a hunting scene in your forests at
Fontainebleau. A stag of ten tines, you see, and the
hounds in full cry, and a gallant band of cavaliers and
ladies. Has your Majesty ridden to-day ? '

"No. How is it, Fran9oise, that you have such a heart
of ice?"

" I would it were so, sire. Perhaps you have hawked,
then ? "

" No. But surely no man's love has ever stirred you !
And yet you have been a wife."

"A nurse, sire, but never a wife. See the lady in the
park ! It is surely mademoiselle. I did not know that she
had come up from Choisy."

But the king was not to be distracted from his subject.

"You did not love this Scarron, then?' he persisted.
"He was old, I have heard, and as lame as some of his

verses.'

. V

Do not speak lightly of him, sire. I was grateful to
him ; I honoured him ; I liked him."

" But you did not love him."

" Why should you seek to read the secrets of a woman's
heart ? "

" You did not love him, Fran9oise ? '

" At least, I did my duty towards him.''

" Has that nun's heart never yet been touched by love
then ? "

88 THE REFUGEES.

" Sire, do not question me."

" Has it never —

" Spare me, sire, I beg of you ! ':

" But I must ask, for my own peace hangs upon your
answer."

" Your words pain me to the soul."

" Have you never, Fraii9oise, felt in your heart some
little flicker of the love which glows in mine ? ' He rose
with his hands outstretched, a pleading monarch, but she,
with half-turned head, still shrank away from him.

" Be assured of one thing, sire," said she, "that even if
I loved you as no woman ever loved a man yet, I should
rather spring from that window on to the stone terraces
beneath than ever byword or sign confess as much to you."

" And why, Frangoise ? '

" Because, sire, it is my highest hope upon earth that I
have been chosen to lift up your mind towards loftier
things — that mind the greatness and nobility of which
none know more than I."

" And is my love so base, then ? '

" You have wasted too much of your life and of youi
thoughts upon woman's love. And now, sire, the years
steal on and the day is coming when even you will be called
upon to give an account of your actions, and of the inner-
most thoughts of your heart. I would see you spend the
time that is left to you, sire, in building up the Church, in
showing a noble example to your subjects, and in repairing
any evil which that example may have done in the past."

The king sank back into his chair with a groan. " Forever
the same," said he. " Why, you are worse than Father La
Chaise and Bossuet."

" Nay, nay," said she gaily, with the quick tact in which
she never failed. " I have wearied you, when you have
stooped to honour my little room with your presence. That
is indeed ingratitude, and it were a just punishment if you

IE ROI S'AMUSE. 89

were to leave me in solitude to-morrow, and so cut off all
the light of my day. But tell me, sire, how go the works at
Marly ? I am all on fire to know whether the great foun-
tain will work.''

"Yes, the fountain plays well, but Mansard has thrown
the right wing too far back. I have made him a good archi-
tect, but I have still much to teach him. I showed him his
fault on the plan this morning, and he promised to amend
it."

i( And what will the change cost, sire ? '

11 Some millions of livres, but then the view will be
much improved from the south side. I have taken in
another mile of ground in that direction, for there were a
number of poor folk living there, and their hovels were far
from pretty."

" And why have you not ridden to-day, sire ? '

" Pah ! it brings me no pleasure. There was a time when
my blood was stirred by the blare of the horn and the rush
of the hoofs, but now it is all wearisome to me."

" And hawking too ? ':

" Yes ; I shall hawk no more."

" But, sire, you must have amusement."

" What is so dull as an amusement which has ceased to
amuse ? I know not how it is. When I was but a lad,
and my mother and I were driven from place to place, with
the Fronde at war with us and Paris in revolt, with our
throne and even our lives in danger, all life seemed to be so
bright, so new, and so full of interest. Now that there is
no shadow, and that my voice is the first in France, as
France's is in Europe, all is dull and lacking in flavour.
What use is it to have all pleasure before me, when it turns
to wormwood when it is tasted ? '

" True pleasure, sire, lies rather in the inward life, the serene
mind, the easy conscience. And then, as we grow older, is
it not natural that our minds should take a graver bent ?

go THE REFUGEES.

W"e might well reproach ourselves if it were not so, fcr it
would show that we had not learned the lesson of life."

" It may be so, and yet it is sad and weary when nothing"
amuses. But who is there ? ':

" It is my companion knocking. What is it, made-
moiselle ? '

" Monsieur Corneille, to read to the king," said the young
lady, opening the door.

" Ah, yes, sire ; I know how foolish is a woman's tongue,
and so I have brought a wiser one than mine here to charm
you. Monsieur Racine was to have come, but I hear that
he has had a fall from his horse, and he sends his friend in
his place. Shall I admit him ? "

" Oh, as you like, madame, as you like," said the king
listlessly. At a sign from Mademoiselle Nanon a little
peaky man with a shrewd petulant face, and long gray hair
falling back over his shoulders, entered the room. He
bowed profoundly three times, and then seated himself
nervously on the very edge of the stool, from which the
lady had removed her work-basket. She smiled and nodded
to encourage the poet, while the monarch leaned back in his
chair with an air of resignation.

" Shall it be a comedy, or a tragedy, or a burlesque
pastoral ? ' Corneille asked timidly.

"Not the burlesque pastoral," said the king with decision.
" Such things may be played, but cannot be read, since they
are for the eye rather than the ear."

The poet bowed his acquiescence.

"And not the tragedy, monsieur," said Madame de
Maintenon, glancing up from her tapestry. " The king has
enough that is serious in his graver hours, and so I trust
that you will use your talent to amuse him."

" Ay, let it be a comedy," said Louis; " I have not had
a good laugh since poor Moliere passed away."

" Ah, your Majesty has indeed a fine taste," cried the

kOI S'AMUSE.

courtier poet. " Had you condescended to turn your own
attention to poetry, where should we all have been then ? '

Louis smiled, for no flattery was too gross to please him.

" Even as you have taught our generals war and our
builders art, so you would have set your poor singers a
loftier strain. But Mars would hardly deign to share the
humbler laurels of Apollo."

"I have sometimes thought that I had some such power,"
answered the king complacently; "though amid my toils
and the burdens of state I have had, as you say, little time
for the softer arts."

" But you have encouraged others to do what you could
so well have done yourself, sire. You have brought out
poets as the sun brings out flowers. How many have we
not seen — Moliere, Boileau, Racine, one greater than the
other. And the others, too, the smaller ones — Scarron, so
scurrilous and yet so witty - Oh, holy Virgin ! what

have I said ? '

Madame had laid down her tapestry, and was staring
in intense indignation at the poet, who writhed on his stool
under the stern rebuke of those cold gray eyes.

" I think, Monsieur Corneille, that you had better go on
with your reading," said the king dryly.

" Assuredly, sire. Shall I read my play about Darius ? '

"And who was Darius?' asked the king, whose educa-
tion had been so neglected by the crafty policy of Cardinal
Mazarin that he was ignorant of everything save what had
come under his own personal observation,

" Darius was King of Persia, sire."

" And where is Persia ? '

" It is a kingdom of Asia.''

" Is Darius still king there ? '

11 Nay, sire ; he fought against Alexander the Great."

" Ah, I have heard of Alexander. He was a famous king
and general, was he not ? '

Q2 THE REFUGEES.

" Like your Majesty, he both ruled wisely and led his
armies victoriously-"

" And was King of Persia, you say ? '

" No sire ; of Macedonia. It was Darius who was King
of Persia."

The king frowned, for the slightest correction was offen-
sive to him.

"You do not seem very clear about the matter, and I
confess that it does not interest me deeply," said he. " Pray
turn to something else."

" There is my Pretended Astrologer.""

" Yes, that will do."

Corneille commenced to read his comedy, while Madame
de Maintenon's white and delicate fingers picked among the
many-coloured silks which she was weaving into her tapes-
try. From time to time she glanced across, first at the
clock and then at the king, who was leaning back, with his
lace handkerchief thrown over his face. It was twenty
minutes to four now, but she knew that she had put it back
half an hour, and that the true time was ten minutes past.

" Tut ! tut ! ' cried the king suddenly. " There is some-
thing amiss there. The second last line has a limp in it,
surely." It was one of his foibles to pose as a critic, and
the wise poet would fall in with his corrections, however
unreasonable they might be.

"Which line, sire? It is indeed an advantage to have
one's faults made clear."

" Read the passage again."

" Et si, quand je lui dis le secret de mon ame,
Avec moins de rigueur elle cut traite ma flamme,
Dans ma fafon de vivre, et suivant mon humeur,
Une autre eut eu bientot le present de mon cceur."

" Yes, the third line has a foot too many. Do you not
remark it, madame ? '

" No ; but I fear that I should make a poor critic."

LE ROI S* AMUSE. 93

" Your Majesty is perfectly right," said Corneille unblush-
ingly. " I shall mark the passage, and see that it is cor-
rected.''

" I thought that it was wrong. If I do not write myself,
you can see that I have at least got the correct ear. A false
quantity jars upon me. It is the same in music. Although
I know little of the matter, I can tell a discord where Lully
himself would miss it. I have often shown him errors of
the sort in his operas, and I have always convinced him
that I was right."

" I can readily believe it, your Majesty." Corneille had
picked up his book again, and was about to resume his
reading when there came a sharp tap at the door.

" It is his Highness the minister, Monsieur de Louvois,"
said Mademoiselle Nanon.

"Admit him," answered Louis. " Monsieur Corneille, I
am obliged to you for what you have read, and I regret that
an affair of state will now interrupt your comedy. Some
other day perhaps I may have the pleasure of hearing the
rest of it." He smiled in the gracious fashion which made
all who came within his personal influence forget his faults
and remember him only as the impersonation of dignity
and of courtesy.

The poet, with his book under his arm, slipped out, while
the famous minister, tall, heavily wigged, eagle-nosed, and
commanding, came bowing into the little room. His man-
ner was that of exaggerated politeness, but his haughty face
marked only too plainly his contempt for such a chamber
and for the lady who dwelt there. She was well aware of
the feeling with which he regarded her, but her perfect self-
command prevented her from ever by word or look returning
his dislike.

" My apartments are indeed honoured to-day," said she,
rising with outstretched hand. " Can monsieur condescend
to a stool, since I have no fitter seat to offer you in this littl^

7

94 THE REFUGEES.

doll's house? But perhaps I am in the way, if you wish to
talk of state affairs to the king. I can easily withdraw into
my boudoir."

" No, no, nothing of the kind, madame," cried Louis.
"It is my wish that you should remain here. What is it,
Louvois ? '

" A messenger arrived from England with despatches,
your Majesty," answered the minister, his ponderous figure
balanced upon the three-legged stool. "There is very ill
feeling there, and there is some talk of a rising. The letter
from Lord Sunderland wished to know whether, in case the
Dutch took the side of the malcontents, the king might look
to France for help. Of course, knowing your Majesty's
mind, I answered unhesitatingly that he might."

" You did what ! "

" I answered, sire, that he might."

King Louis flushed with anger, and he caught up the
tongs from the grate with a motion as though he would
have struck his minister with them. Madame sprang from
her chair, and laid her hand upon his arm with a soothing
gesture. He threw down the tongs again, but his eyes still
flashed with passion as he turned them upon Louvois.

" How dared you ! " he cried.

" But, sire - -"

" How dared you, I say ! What ! You venture to
answer such a message without consulting me ! How often
am I to tell you that I am the state — I alone ; that all is to
come from me ; and that I am answerable to God only !
What are you ? My instrument ! my tool ! And you
venture to act without my authority ! '

" I thought that I knew your wishes, sire," stammered
Louvois, whose haughty manner had quite deserted him,
and whose face was as white as the ruffles of his shirt.

"You are not there to think about my wishes, sir. You
are there to consult them and to obey them. Why is it that I

LE ROI S' AM USE. 05

have turned away from my old nobility, and have committed
the affairs of my kingdom to men whose names have never
been heard of in the history of France, such men as Colbert
and yourself? I have been blamed for it. There was the
Due de St. Simon, who said, the last time that he was at the
court, that it was a bourgeois government. So it is. But I
wished it to be so, because I knew that the nobles have a
way of thinking for themselves, and I ask for no thought
but mine in the governing of France. But if my bourgeois
are to receive messages and give answers to embassies, then
indeed I am to be pitied. I have marked you of late,
Louvois. You have grown beyond your station. You take
too much upon yourself. See to it that I have not again to
complain to you upon this matter."

The humiliated minister sat as one crushed, with his chin
sunk upon his breast. The king muttered and frowned for
a few minutes, but the cloud cleared gradually from his
face, for his fits of anger were usually as short as they were
fierce and sudden.

" You will detain that messenger Louvois," he said at
last, in a calm voice.

" Yes, sire."

" And we shall see at the council meeting to-morrow that
a fitting reply be sent to Lord Sunderland. It would be
best perhaps not to be too free with our promises in the
matter. These English have ever been a thorn in our sides.
If we could leave them among their own fogs with such a
quarrel as would keep them busy for a few years, then
indeed we might crush this Dutch prince at our leisure.
Their last civil war lasted ten years, and their next may do
as much. We could carry our frontier to the Rhine long
ere that. Eh, Louvois ? '

"Your armies are ready, sire, on the day that you give
the word."

" But war is a costly business, I do not wish to have

THE REFUGEES.

to sell the court plate, as we did the other day. How are
the public funds ? '

" We are not very rich, sire. But there is one way in
which money may very readily be gained. There was some
talk this morning about the Huguenots, and whether they
should dwell any longer in this Catholic kingdom. Now, if
they are driven out, and if their property were taken by the
state, then indeed your Majesty would at once become the
richest monarch in Christendom."

" But you were against it this morning, Louvois ? '

" I had not had time to think of it, sire.''

" You mean that Father La Chaise and the bishop had not
had time to get at you," said Louis sharply. " Ah, Louvois,
I have not lived with a court round me all these years with-
out learning how things are done. It is a word to him, and
so on to another, and so to a third, and so to the king.
When my good fathers of the Church have set themselves
to bring anything to pass, I see traces of them at every turn,
as one traces a mole by the dirt which it has thrown up.
But I will not be moved against my own reason to do
wrong to those who, however mistaken they may be, are
still the subjects whom God has given me."

" I would not have you do so, sire," cried Louvois in
confusion. The king's accusation had been so true that
he had been unable at the moment even to protest.

" I know but one person," continued Louis, glancing
across at Madame de Maintenon, " who has no ambitions,
who desires neither wealth nor preferment, and who can
therefore never be bribed to sacrifice my interests. That is
why I value that person's opinion so highly." He smiled
at the lady as he spoke, while his minister cast a glance at
her which showed the jealousy which ate into his soul.

" It was my duty to point this out to you, sire, not as a
suggestion, but as a possibility," said he, rising. " I fear
that I have already taken up too much of your Majesty's

LE ROI S' AM USE.

time, and I shall now withdraw." Bowing slightly to the
lady, and profoundly to the monarch, he walked from the
room.

" Louvois grows intolerable," said the king. " I know
not where his insolence will end. Were it not that he is
an excellent servant, I should have sent him from the court
before this. He has his own opinions upon everything. It
was but the other day that he would have it that I was
wrong when I said that one of the windows in the Trianon
was smaller than any of the others. It was the same size,
said he. I brought Le Notre with his measures, and of
course the window was, as I had said, too small. But I
see by your clock that it is four o'clock. I must go."

" My clock, sire, is half an hour slow."

" Half an hour ! ' The king looked dismayed for an
instant, and then began to laugh. " Nay, in that case,"
said he, " I had best remain where I am, for it is too late to
go, and I can say with a clear conscience that it was the
clock's fault rather than mine."

" I trust that it was nothing of very great importance,
sire," said the lady, with a look of demure triumph in her
eyes.

" By no means."

" No state affair ? "

" No, no ; it was only that it was the hour at which I
had intended to rebuke the conduct of a presumptuous
person. But perhaps it is better as it is. My absence will
in itself convey my message, and in such a sort that I trust
I may never see that person's face more at my court. But,
ah, what is this ? '

The door had been flung open, and Madame de Monte-
span, beautiful and furious, was standing before them.

CHAPTER X.

AN ECLIPSE AT VERSAILLES.

MADAME DE MAINTENON was a woman who was always full
of self-restraint and of cool resource. She had risen in an
instant, with an air as if she had at last seen the welcome
guest for whom she had pined in vain. With a frank smile
of greeting, she advanced with outstretched hand.

" This is indeed a pleasure," said she.

But Madame de Montespan was very angry, so angry
that she was evidently making strong efforts to keep herself
within control, and to avoid breaking into a furious outburst
Her face was very pale, her lips compressed, and her blue
eyes had the set stare and the cold glitter of a furious
woman. So for an instant they faced each other, the one
frowning, the other smiling, two of the most beautiful and
queenly women in France. Then De Montespan, disre-
garding her rival's outstretched hand, turned towards the
king, who had been looking at her with a darkening face.

" I fear that I intrude, sire."

" Your entrance, madame, is certainly somewhat abrupt."

" I must crave pardon if it is so. Since this lady has
been the governess of my children I have been in the habit
of coming into her room unannounced."

"As far as I am concerned, you are most welcome to do
so," said her rival, with perfect composure.

11 I confess that I had not even thought it necessary to
ask your permission, madame," the other answered coldly.

" Then you shall certainly do so in the future, madame,5*
said the king sternly. " It is m}7 express order to you that
every possible respect is to be shown in every way to this
lady."

AN ECLIPSE AT VERSAILLES.

u Oh, to this lady ! ' with a wave of her hand in her
direction. " Your Majesty's commands are of course our
laws. But I must remember that it is this lady, for some-
times one may get confused as to which name it is that
your Majesty has picked out for honour. To-day it is De
Maintenon ; yesterday it was Fontanges ; to-morrow -
Ah, well, who can say who it may be to-morrow ? '

She was superb in her pride and her fearlessness as she
stood, with her sparkling blue eyes and her heaving bosom,
looking down upon her royal lover. Angry as he was, his
gaze lost something of its sternness as it rested upon her
round full throat and the delicate lines of her shapely
shoulders. There was something very becoming in her
passion, in the defiant pose of her dainty head, and the
magnificent scorn with which she glanced at her rival.

"There is nothing to be gained, madame, by being in>
solent," said he.

" Nor is it my custom, sire."

" And yet I find your words so."

" Truth is always mistaken for insolence, sire, at the
court of France."

" We have had enough of this.

" A very little truth is enough."

" You forget yourself, madame. I beg that you will
leave the room."

" I must first remind your Majesty that I was so far
honoured as to have an appointment this afternoon. At
four o'clock I had your royal promise that you would come
to me. I cannot doubt that your Majesty will keep that
promise in spite of the fascinations which you may find
here."

" I should have come, madame, but the clock, as you
may observe, is half an hour slow, and the time had passed
before I was aware of it."

" I beg, sire, that you will not let that distress you.

166 THE REFUGEES.

am returning to my chamber, and five o'clock will suit me
as well as four."

" I thank you, madame, but I have not found this inter-
view so pleasant that I should seek another."

" Then your Majesty will not come ? '

" I should prefer not."

" In spite of your promise ! '

" Madame! "

" You will break your word ! '

" Silence, madame; this is intolerable."

"It is indeed intolerable ! ' cried the angry lady, throwing
all discretion to the winds. "Oh, I am not afraid of you,
sire. I have loved you, but I have never feared you. I
leave you here. I leave you with your conscience and your
-your lady confessor. But one word of truth you shall
hear before I go. You have been false to your wife, and
you have been false to your mistress, but it is only now
that I find that you can be false also to your word." She
swept him an indignant courtesy, and glided, with head
erect, out of the room.

The king sprang from his chair as if he had been stung.
Accustomed as he was to his gentle little wife, and the even
gentler La Valliere, such language as this had never before
intruded itself upon the royal ears. It was like a physical
blow to him. He felt stunned, humiliated, bewildered, by
so unwonted a sensation. What odour was this which
mingled for the first time with the incense amid which he
lived ? And then his whole soul rose up in anger at her, at
the woman who had dared to raise her voice against him.
That she should be jealous of and insult another woman,
that was excusable. It was, in fact, an indirect compliment
to himself. But that she should turn upon him, as if they
were merely man and woman, instead of monarch and sub-
ject, that was too much. He gave an inarticulate cry of
rage, and rushed to the door.

AN ECLIPSE AT VERSAILLES. 101

u Sire ! ' Madame de Maintenon, who had watched
keenly the swift play of his emotions over his expressive
face, took two quick steps forward, and laid her hand upon
his arm.

" I will go after her."

" And why, sire? "

" To forbid her the court."

" But, sire -

" You heard her ! It is infamous ! I shall go."

" But, sire, could you not write ? '

" No, no ; I shall see her." He pulled open the door.

" Oh, sire, be firm, then ! ' It was with an anxious face
that she watched him start off, walking rapidly, with angry
gestures, down the corridor. Then she turned back, and
dropping upon her knees on the prie-dieu, bowed her head
in prayer for the king, for herself, and for France.

De Catinat, the guardsman, had employed himself in
showing his young friend from over the water all the
wonders of the great palace, which the other had examined
keenly, and had criticised or admired with an independence
of judgment and a native correctness of taste natural to a
man whose life had been spent in freedom amid the noblest
works of nature. Grand as were the mighty fountains and
the artificial cascades, they had no overwhelming effect on
one who had travelled up from Erie to Ontario, and had
seen the Niagara River hurl itself over its precipice, nor
were the long level swards so very large to eyes which had
rested upon the great plains of the Dakotas. The building
itself, however, its extent, its height, and the beauty of its
stone, filled him with astonishment.

" I must bring Ephraim Savage here," he kept repeating.
" He would never believe else that there was one house in
the world which would weigh more than all Boston and
New York put together."

De Catinat had arranged that the American should

102 THE REFUGEES.

remain with his friend Major de Brissac, as the time had
come round for his own second turn of guard. He had
hardly stationed himself in the corridor when he was

•/

astonished to see the king, without escort or attendants,
walking swiftly down the passage. His delicate face was
disfigured with anger, and his mouth was set grimly, like
that of a man who had taken a momentous resolution.

" Officer of the guard," said he shortly.

" Yes, sire."

" What ! You again, Captain de Catinat ? You have
not been on duty since morning ? '

" Xo, sire. It is my second guard."

'• Very good. I wish your assistance."

" I am at your command, sire."

'• Is there a subaltern here ? '

" Lieutenant de la Tremouille is at the side guard,'1

" Very well. You will place him in command."

" Yes, sire."

" You will yourself go to Monsieur de Vivonne. You
Know his apartments ? '

" Yes, sire."

" If he is not there, you must go and seek him. Wher-
ever he is, you must find him within the hour."

" Yes, sire."

" You will give him an order from me. At six o'clock he
is to be in his carriage at the east gate of the palace. His
sister, Madame de Montespar? will await him there, and he
is charged by me to drive her to the Chateau of Petit Bourg.
You will tell him that he is answerable to me for her arrival
there."

'•Yes, sire.'' De Catinat raised his sword in salute, and
started upon his mission.

The king passed on down the corridor, and opened a door
which led him into a magnificent anteroom, all one blaze
of mirrors and gold, furnished to a marvel with the most

AN ECLIPSE AT VERSAILLES. 103

delicate ebony and silver suite, on a deep red carpet of
Aleppo, as soft and yielding as the moss of a forest. In
keeping with the furniture was the sole occupant of this
stately chamber — a little negro boy in a livery of velvet
picked out with silver tinsel, who stood as motionless as a
small swart statuette against the door which faced that
through which the king entered.

" Is your mistress there ? '

" She has just returned, sire."

" I wish to see her.'"'

" Pardon, sire, but she -

"Is everyone to thwart me to-day?' snarled the king,
and taking the little page by his velvet collar, he hurled him
to the other side of the room. Then, without knocking, he
opened the door, and passed on into the lady's boudoir.

It was a large and lofty room, very different to that from
which he had just come. Three long windows from ceiling
to floor took up one side, and through the delicate pink-
tinted blinds the evening sun cast a subdued and dainty
light. Great gold candelabra glittered between the mirrors
upon the wall, and Le Brun had expended all his wealth of
colouring upon the ceiling, where Louis himself, in the
character of Jove, hurled down his thunder-bolts upon a
writhing heap of Dutch and Palatine Titans. Pink was
the prevailing tone in tapestry, carpet, and furniture, so
that the whole room seemed to shine with the sweet tints
of the inner side of a shell, and when lit up, as it was then,
formed such a chamber as some fairy hero might have built
up for his princess. At the further side, prone upon an
ottoman, her face buried in the cushion, her beautiful white
arms thrown over it, the rich coils of her brown hair hanging
in disorder across the long curve of her ivory neck, lay, like
a drooping flower, the woman whom he had come to dis-
card.

At the sound of the closing door she had glanced up, and

164 THE REFUGEES.

then, at the sight of the king, she sprang to her feet and
ran towards him, her hands out, her blue eyes bedimmed
with tears, her whole beautiful figure softening into woman-
liness and humility.

" Ah, sire," she cried, with a pretty little sunburst of joy
through her tears, "then I have wronged you! I have
wronged you cruelly ! You have kept your promise. You
were but trying my faith ! Oh, how could I have said such
words to you — how could I pain that noble heart! But you
have come after me to tell me that you have forgiven me ! ''
She put her arms forward with the trusting air of a pretty
child who claims an embrace as her due, but the king
stepped swiftly back from her, and warned her away from
him with an angry gesture.

" All is over forever between us," he cried harshly.
" Your brother will await you at the east gate at six o'clock,
and it is my command that you wait there until you
receive my further orders."

She staggered back as if he had struck her.

" Leave you ! ' she cried.

" You must leave the court."

"The court ! Ay, willingly, this instant ! But you ! Ah,
sire, you ask what is impossible."

" I do not ask, madame; I order. Since you have learned
to abuse your position, your presence has become intoler-
able. The united kings of Europe have never dared to
speak to me as you have spoken to-day. You have insulted
me in my own palace— me, Louis, the king. Such things
are not done twice, madame. Your insolence has carried
you too far this time. You thought that because I was
forbearing, I was therefore weak. It appeared to you that
if you only humoured me one moment, you might treat me
as if I were your equal the next, for that this poor puppet of
a king could always be bent this way or that. You see
your mistake now. At six o'clock you leave Versailles

AT six O'CLOCK YOU LEAVE VERSAILLES FOREVER"

,47V ECLIPSE AT VERSAILLES. 105

forever." His eyes flashed, and his small upright figure
seemed to swell in the violence of his indignation, while she
leaned away from him, one hand across her eyes and one
thrown forward, as if to screen her from that angry gaze.

"Oh, I have been wicked!' she cried. "I know it, I
know it ! '

" I am glad, madame, that you have the grace to acknow-
ledge it."

" How could I speak to you so ! How could I ! Oh,
that some blight may come upon this unhappy tongue ! I,
who have had nothing but good from you ! I to insult you,
who are the author of all my happiness ! Oh, sire, forgive
me, forgive me ! for pity's sake forgive me ! '

Louis was by nature a kind-hearted man. His feelings
were touched, and his pride also was flattered by the abase-
ment of this beautiful and haughty woman. His other
favourites had been amiable to all, but this one was so
proud, so unyielding, until she felt his master-hand. His
face softened somewhat in its expression as he glanced at
her, but he shook his head, and his voice was as firm as
ever as he answered.

" It is useless, madame," said he. " I have thought this
matter over for a long time, and your madness to-day has
only hurried what must in any case have taken place. You
must leave the palace."

" I will leave the palace. Say only that you forgive me.
Oh, sire, I cannot bear your anger. It crushes me down.
I am not strong enough. It is not banishment, it is death
to which you sentence me. Think of our long years of
love, sire, and say that you forgive me. I have given up
all for your sake — husband, honour, everything. Oh, will
you not give your anger up for mine ? My God, he weeps !
Oh, I am saved, I am saved ! '

" No, no, madame," cried the king, dashing his hand
across his eyes, " You see the weakness of the man, but you

I06 THE REFUGEES.

shall also see the firmness of the king. As to your insults
to-day, I forgive them freely, if that will make you more
happy in your retirement. But I owe a duty to my subjects
also, and that duty is to set them an example. We have
thought too little of such things. But a time has come
when it is necessary to review our past life, and to prepare
for that which is to come.''

"Ah, sire, you pain me. You are not yet in the prime
of your years, and you speak as though old age were upon
you. In a score of years from now it may be time for folk
to say that age has made a change in your life."

The king winced. " Who says so ? ' he cried angrily.

" Oh, sire, it slipped from me unawares. Think no more
of it. Nobody says so. Nobody."

" You are hiding something from me. Who is it who
says this ? '

" Oh, do not ask me, sire."

" You said that it was reported that I had changed my
life not through religion, but through stress of years. Who
said so ? '

" Oh, sire, it was but foolish court gossip, all unworthy
of your attention. It was but the empty common talk of
cavaliers who had nothing else to say to gain a smile from
their ladies."

" The common talk ? ' Louis flushed crimson. " Have
I, then, grown so aged ? You have known me for nearly
twenty years. Do you see such changes in me ? '

" To me, sire, you are as pleasing and as gracious as
when you first won the heart ot Mademoiselle Tonnay-
Charente."

The king smiled as he looked at the beautiful woman
before him.

" In very truth," said he, " I can say that there has been
no such great change in Mademoiselle Tonnay-Charente
either. But still it is best that we should part, Fran9oise,"

AN ECLIPSE AT VERSAILLES.

u K it will add aught to your happiness, sire, I shall go
through it, be it to my death."

" Now that is the proper spirit."

" You have but to name the place, sire — Petit Bourg,
Chargny, or my own convent of St. Joseph in the Faubourg
St. Germain. What matter where the flower withers, when
once the sun has forever turned from it ? At least, the past
is my own, and I shall live in the remembrance of the days
when none had come between us, and when your sweet love
was all my own. Be happy, sire, be happy, and think no
more of what I said about the foolish gossip of the court.
Your life lies in the future. Mine is in the past. Adieu,
dear sire, adieu ! ' She threw forward her hands, her eyes
dimmed over, and she would have fallen had Louis not
sprung forward and caught her in his arms. Her beautiful
head drooped upon his shoulder, her breath was warm upon
his cheek, and the subtle scent of her hair was in his nostrils.
His arm, as he held her, rose and fell with her bosom, and
he felt her heart, beneath his hand, fluttering like a caged
bird. Her broad white throat was thrown back, her eyes
almost closed, her lips just parted enough to show the line
of pearly teeth, her beautiful face not three inches from his
own. And then suddenly the eyelids quivered, and the great
blue eyes looked up at him, lovingly, appealingly, half de-
precating, half challenging, her whole soul in a glance.
Did he move ? or was it she ? Who could tell ? But their
lips had met in a long kiss, a-nd then in another, and plans and
resolutions were streaming away from Louis like autumn
leaves in the west wind.

"Then I am not to go? You would not have the heart
to send me away, would you ? ''

" No, no ; but you must not annoy me, Frangoise."

" I had rather die than cause you an instant of grief. Oh,
sire, I have seen so little of you lately ! And I love you so !

It has maddened me. And then that dreadful woman -

8

io8 THE REFUGEES.

"Who, then?"

" Oh, I must not speak against her. I will be civil for
your sake even to her, the widow of old Scarron."

" Yes, yes, you must be civil. I cannot have any un-
pleasantness."

" But you will stay with me, sire ? ' Her supple arms
coiled themselves round his neck. Then she held him for
an instant at arm's length to feast her eyes upon his face,
and then drew him once more towards her. " You will not
leave me, dear sire. It is so long since you have been here."

The sweet face, the pink glow in the room, the hush of
the evening, all seemed to join in their sensuous influence.
Louis sank down upon the settee.

" I will stay," said he.

" And that carriage, dear sire, at the east door ? '

"I have been very harsh with you, Fran9oise. You will
forgive me. Have you paper and pencil, that I may counter-
mand the order ? "

" They are here, sire, upon the side table. I have also a
note which, if I may leave you for an instant, I will write in
the anteroom."

She swept out with triumph in her eyes. It had been a
terrible fight, but all the greater the credit of her victory.
She took a little pink slip of paper from an inlaid desk, and
dashed off a few words upon it. They were : " Should
Madame de Maintenon have any message for his Majesty,
he will be for the next few hours in the room of Madame de
Montespan." This she addressed to her rival, and it was
sent on the spot, together with the king's order, by the
hands of the little black page.

CHAPTER XI.

THE SUN REAPPEARS.

FOR nearly a week the king was constant to his new humour.
The routine of his life remained unchanged, save that it
was the room of the frail beauty, rather than of Madame de
Maintenon, which attracted him in the afternoon. And in
sympathy with this sudden relapse into his old life, his coat?
lost something of their sombre hue, and fawn-colour, buff-
colour, and lilac began to replace the blacks and the blues.
A little gold lace budded out upon his hats also and at the
trimmings of his pockets, while for three days on end his
prie-dieu at the royal chapel had been unoccupied. His
walk was brisker, and he gave a youthful flourish to his
cane as a defiance to those who had seen in his reformation
the first symptoms of age. Madame had known her man
well when she threw out that artful insinuation.

And as the king brightened, so all the great court bright-
ened too. The salons began to resume their former splendour,
and gay coats and glittering embroidery which had lain in
drawers for years were seen once more in the halls of the
palace. In the chapel, Bourdaloue preached in vain to
empty benches, but a ballet in the grounds was attended by
the whole court, and received with a frenzy of enthusiasm.
The Montespan anteroom was crowded every morning with
men and women who had some suit to be urged, while her
rival's chambers were as deserted as they had been before
the king first turned a gracious look upon her. Faces
which had been long banished the court began to reappear
in the corridors and gardens unchecked and unrebuked,
while the black cassock of the Jesuit and the purple

THE REFUGEES.

soutane of the bishop were less frequent colours in the royal
circle.

But the Church party, who, if they were the champions
of bigotry, were also those of virtue, were never seriously
alarmed at this relapse. The grave eyes of priest or of
prelate followed Louis in his escapade as wary huntsmen
might watch a young deer which gambols about in the
meadow under the impression that it is masterless, when
every gap and path is netted, and it is in truth as much in
their hands as though it were lying bound before them.
They knew how short a time it would be before some ache,
some pain, some chance word, would bring his mortality
home to him again, and envelop him once more in those
superstitious terrors which took the place of religion in his
mind. They waited, therefore, and they silently planned
how the prodigal might best be dealt with on his return.

To this end it was that his confessor, Pere La Chaise,
and Bossuet, the great Bishop of Meaux, waited one morning
upon Madame de Maintenon in her chamber. With a globe
beside her, she was endeavouring to teach geography to the
lame Due du Maine and the mischievous little Comte de
Toulouse, who had enough of their father's disposition to
make them averse to learning, and of their mother's to cause
them to hate any discipline or restraint. Her wonderful
tact, however, and her unwearying patience had won the
love and confidence even of these little perverse princes, and
it was one of Madame de Montespan's most bitter griefs
that not only her royal lover, but even her own children,
turned away from the brilliancy and riches of her salon to
pass their time in the modest apartment of her rival.

Madame de Maintenon dismissed her two pupils, and
received the ecclesiastics with the mixture of affection and
respect which was due to those who were not only personal
friends, but great lights of the Gallican Church. She had
suffered the minister Louvois to sit upon a stool in her

THE SUN REAPPEARS in

presence, but the two chairs were allotted to the priests
now, and she insisted upon reserving- the humbler seat for
herself. The last few days had cast a pallor over her face
which spiritualised and refined the features, but she wore
unimpaired the expression of sweet serenity which was
habitual to her.

" I see, my dear daughter, that you have sorrowed/' said
Bossuet, glancing at her with a kindly and yet searching
eye.

" I have indeed, your Grace. All last night I spent in
prayer that this trial may pass away from us."

" And yet you have no need for fear, madame — none, I
assure you. Others may think that your influence has
ceased ; but we, who know the king's heart, we think other-
wise. A few days may pass, a few weeks at the most, and
once more it will be upon your rising fortunes that every
eye in France will turn."

The lady's brow clouded, and she glanced at the prelate
as though his speech were not altogether to her taste. " I
trust that pride does not lead me astray," she said, "But
if I can read my own soul aright, there is no thought of my-
self in the grief which now tears my heart. What is power
to me ? What do I desire ? A little room, leisure for my
devotions, a pittance to save me from want — what more can
I ask for ? Why, then, should I covet power ? If I am
sore at heart, it is not for any poor loss which I have sus-
tained. I think no more of it than of the snapping of one of
the threads on yonder tapestry frame. It is for the king1 I
grieve — for the noble heart, the kindly soul, which might
rise so high, and which is dragged so low, like a royal eagle
with some foul weight which ever hampers its flight. It is
for him and for France that my days are spent in sorrow
and my nights upon my knees."

i4 For all that, my daughter, you are ambitious."

It was the Jesuit who had spoken. His voice was clear

112 THE REFUGEES.

and cold, and his piercing gray eyes seemed to read into the
depths of her soul.

"You may be right, father. God guard me from self-
esteem. And yet I do not think that I am. The king, in
his goodness, has offered me titles — I have refused them ;
money — I have returned it. He has deigned to ask my
advice in matters of state, and I have withheld it. Where,
then, is my ambition ? '

" In your heart, my daughter. But it is not a sinful am-
bition. It is not an ambition of this world. Would you
not love to turn the king towards good ? '

" I would give my life for it."

"And there is your ambition. Ah, can I not read your
noble soul ? Would you not love to see the Church reign
pure and serene over all this realm — to see the poor housed,
the needy helped, the wicked turned from their ways, and
the king ever the leader in all that is noble and good ?
Would you not love that, my daughter ? '

Her cheeks had flushed, and her eyes shone as she looked
at the gray face of the Jesuit, and saw the picture which
his words had conjured up before her. "Ah, that would be
joy indeed ! " she cried.

"And greater joy still to know, not from the mouths of
the people, but from the voice of your own heart in the
privacy of your chamber, that you had been the cause of
it, that your influence had brought this blessing upon the
king and upon the country."

"I would die to do it."

" We wish you to do what may be harder. We wish you
to live to do it."

"Ah!' She glanced from one to the other with ques-
tioning eyes.

" My daughter," said Bossuet solemnly, leaning forward,
with his broad white hand outstretched and his purple
pastoral ring sparkling in the sunlight, " it is time for plain

THE SUN REAPPEARS. 113

speaking. It is in the interests of the Church that we do it.
None hear, and none shall ever hear, what passes between
us now. Regard us, if you will, as two confessors, with
whom your secret is inviolable. I call it a secret, and yet
it is none to us, for it is our mission to read the human
heart. You love the king."

" Your Grace ! ' She started, and a warm blush, mantling
up in her pale cheeks, deepened and spread until it tinted
her white forehead and her queenly neck.

" You love the king."

"Your Grace — father!' She turned in confusion from
one to the other.

" There is no shame in loving, my daughter. The shame
Jies only in yielding to love. I say again that you love the
king."

" At least I have never told him so," she faltered.

" And will you never ? ':

" May heaven wither my tongue first ! '

" But consider, my daughter. Such love in a soul like
yours is heaven's gift, and sent for some wise purpose.
This human love is too often but a noxious weed which
blights the soil it grows in, but here it is a gracious flower,
all fragrant with humility and virtue."

Alas ! I have tried to tear it from my heart."
Nay ; rather hold it firmly rooted there. Did the king
but meet with some tenderness from you, some sign that his
own affection met with an answer from your heart, it might
be that this ambition which you profess would be secured,
and that Louis, strengthened by the intimate companionship
of your noble nature, might live in the spirit as well as in
the forms of the Church. All this might spring from the
love which you hide away as though it bore the brand of
shame."

The lady half rose, glancing from the prelate to the priest
with eyes which had a lurking horror in their depths.

<c

i .

114 THE REFUGEES.

< k

Can I have understood you!' she gasped. "What
meaning lies behind these words ? You cannot counsel me
to -

The Jesuit had risen, and his spare figure towered above
her.

"My daughter, we give no counsel which is unworthy of
our office. We speak for the interests of Holy Church, and
those interests demand that you should marry the king.''

"Marry the king!" The little room swam round her.
"Marry the king!"

" There lies the best hope for the future. We see in
you a second Jeanne d'Arc, who will save both France
and France's king."

Madame sat silent for a few moments. Her face had
regained its composure, and her eyes were bent vacantly
upon her tapestry frame as she turned over in her mind
all that was involved in the suggestion.

" But surely — surely this could never be," she said at
ast. "Why should we plan that which can never come
to pass ? ;

"And why?"

" What King of France has married a subject ? See how
every princess of Europe stretches out her hand to him.
The Queen of France must be of queenly blood, even as
the last was."

"All this may be overcome.'

" And then there are the reasons of state. If the king
marry, it should be to form a powerful alliance, to cement
a friendship with a neighbour nation, or to gain some pro-
vince which may be the bride's dowry. What is my dowry?
A widow's pension and a work-box." She laughed bitterly,
and yet glanced eagerly at her companions, as one who
wished to be confuted.

"Your dowry, my daughter, would be those gifts of body
and of mind with which heaven has endowed you. Thg

p

^H

X
id

THE SUN REAPPEARS. 115

king has money enough, and the king has provinces enough.
As to the state, how can the state be better served than by
the assurance that the king will be saved in future from
such sights as are to be seen in this palace to-day ? '

" Oh, if it could be so ! But think, father, think of those
about him — the dauphin, monsieur his brother, his ministers.
You know how little this would please them, and how easy it
is for them to sway his mind. No, no ; it is a dream, father,
and it can never be."

The faces of the two ecclesiastics, who had dismissed her
other objections with a smile and a wave, clouded over at
this, as though she had at last touched upon the real
obstacle.

" My daughter," said the Jesuit gravely, "that is a matter
which you may leave to the Church. It may be that we, too,
have some power over the king's mind, and that we may
lead him in the right path, even though those of his own
blood would fain have it otherwise. The future only can
show with whom the power lies. But you ? Love and
duty both draw you one way now, and the Church may
count upon you."

" To my last breath, father."

"And you upon the Church. It will serve you, if you in
turn will but serve it."

" What higher wish could I have ? '

"You will be our daughter, our queen, our champion, and
you will heal the wounds of the suffering Church."

"Ah! if I could!"

"But you can. While there is heresy within the land
there can be no peace or rest for the faithful It is the speck
of mould which will in time, if it be not pared off corrupt
the whole fruit."

" W^hat would you have, then, father ? '

" The Huguenots must go. They must be driven forth.
The goats must be divided from the sheep. The king is

M 8 THE REFUGEES.

when the first hot fit of repentance is just coming upon him
that he may best be moulded to our ends. I have to see
and speak with him once more, and I go from your room to
his. And when I have spoken, he will come from his room
to yours, or I have studied his heart for twenty years in vain.
We leave you now, and you will not see us, but you will see
the effects of what we do, and you will remember your
pledge to us." They bowed low to her both together, and
left her to her thoughts.

An hour passed, and then a second one, as she sat in her
fauteuilj her tapestry before her, but her hands listless upon
her lap, waiting for her fate. Her life's future was now being
settled for her, and she was powerless to turn it in one way
or the other. Daylight turned to the pearly light of evening,
and that again to dusk, but she still sat waiting in the
shadow. Sometimes as a step passed in the corridor she
would glance expectantly towards the door, and the light of
welcome would spring up in her gray eyes, only to die away
again into disappointment. At last, however, there came a
quick sharp tread, crisp and authoritative, which brought
her to her feet with flushed cheeks and her heart beating
wildly. The door opened, and she saw outlined against the
gray light of the outer passage the erect and graceful figure
of the king.

"Sire! One instant, and mademoiselle will light the
lamp."

" Do not call her." He entered and closed the door behind
him. " Fran9oise, the dusk is welcome to me, because it
screens me from the reproaches which must lie in your
glance, even if your tongue be too kindly to speak them."

" Reproaches, sire ! God forbid that I should utter them ! "

" When I last left you, Fran9oise, it was with a good re-
solution in my mind. I tried to carry it out, and I failed — I
failed. I remember that you warned me, Fool that I wras
not to follow your advice I ''

?HE SUN REAPPEARS. Hg

''We are all weak and mortal, sire. Who has not fallen?
Nay, sire, it goes to my heart to see you thus."

He was standing by the fireplace, his face buried in his
hands, and she could tell by the catch of his breath that he
was weeping. All the pity of her woman's nature went out
to that silent and repenting figure dimly seen in the failing
light. She put out her hand with a gesture of sympathy,
and it rested for an instant upon his velvet sleeve. The
next he had clasped it between his own, and she made no
effort to release it.

" I cannot do without you, Fran9oise," he cried. " I am
the loneliest man in ail this world, like one who lives on
a great mountain-peak, with none to bear him company.
Who have I for a friend ? Whom can I rely upon ? Some
are for the Church ; some are for their families ; most are
for themselves. But who of them all is single-minded ?
You are my better self, Fran9oise ; you are my guardian
angel. What the good father says is true, and the nearer
I am to you the further am I from all that is evil. Tell me,
Fran9oise, do you love me ? '

" I have loved you for years, sire." Her voice was low
but clear — the voice of a woman to whom coquetry was
abhorrent.

" I had hoped it, Fran9oise, and yet it thrills me to hear
you say it. I know that wealth and title have no attraction
for you, and that your heart turns rather towards the
convent than the palace. Yet I ask you to remain in the
palace, and to reign there. Will you be my wife, Fran9oise ?

And so the moment had in very truth come. She paused
for an instant, only an instant, before taking this last great
step ; but even that was too long for the patience of the
king.

" Will you not, Fran9oise ? : he cried, with a ring of

in his voice.

" May God make me worthy of such an honour, sire

n8 THE REFUGEES.

when the first hot fit of repentance is just coming upon him
that he may best be moulded to our ends. I have to see
and speak with him once more, and I go from your room to
his. And when I have spoken, he will come from his room
to yours, or I have studied his heart for twenty years in vain.
We leave you now, and you will not see us, but you will see
the effects of what we do, and you will remember your
pledge to us." They bowed low to her both together, and
left her to her thoughts.

An hour passed, and then a second one, as she sat in her
fauteuilj her tapestry before her, but her hands listless upon
her lap, waiting for her fate. Her life's future was now being
settled for her, and she was powerless to turn it in one way
or the other. Daylight turned to the pearly light of evening,
and that again to dusk, but she still sat waiting in the
shadow. Sometimes as a step passed in the corridor she
would glance expectantly towards the door, and the light of
welcome would spring up in her gray eyes, only to die away
again into disappointment. At last, ho\vever, there came a
quick sharp tread, crisp and authoritative, which brought
her to her feet with flushed cheeks and her heart beating
wildly. The door opened, and she sa\v outlined against the
gray light of the outer passage the erect and graceful figure
of the king.

"Sire! One instant, and mademoiselle will light the
lamp."

" Do not call her." He entered and closed the door behind
him. " Fran9oise, the dusk is welcome to me, because it
screens me from the reproaches which must lie in your
glance, even if your tongue be too kindly to speak them."

" Reproaches, sire ! God forbid that I should utter them ! "

" When I last left you, Francoise, it was with a good re-
solution in my mind. I tried to carry it out, and I failed — !
failed. I remember that you warned me. Fool that I was
not to follow your advice ! ''

fHE SUX REAPPEARS. iig

''We are all weak and mortal, sire. Who has not fallen?
Nay, sire, it goes to my heart to see you thus."

He was standing by the fireplace, his face buried in his
hands, and she could tell by the catch of his breath that he
was weeping. All the pity of her woman's nature went out
to that silent and repenting figure dimly seen in the failing
light. She put out her hand with a gesture of sympathy,
and it rested for an instant upon his velvet sleeve. The
next he had clasped it between his own, and she made no
effort to release it.

" I cannot do without you, Fran9oise," he cried. " I am
the loneliest man in ail this world, like one who lives on
a great mountain-peak, with none to bear him company.
Who have I for a friend ? Whom can I rely upon ? Some
are for the Church; some are for their families; most are
for themselves. But who of them all is single-minded ?
You are my better self, Fran9oise ; you are my guardian
angel. What the good father says is true, and the nearer
I am to you the further am I from all that is evil. Tell me,
Fran9oise, do you love me ? '

" I have loved you for years, sire." Her voice was low
but clear — the voice of a woman to whom coquetry was
abhorrent.

" I had hoped it, Fran9oise, and yet it thrills me to hear
vou sav it. I know that wealth and title have no attraction

m> J

for you, and that your heart turns rather towards the
convent than the palace. Yet I ask you to remain in the
palace, and to reign there. Will you be my wife, Fran9oise ?

And so the moment had in very truth come. She paused
for an instant, only an instant, before taking this last great
step ; but even that was too long for the patience of the
king.

" Will you not, Francoise ? ' he cried, with a ring of fear
in his voice.

" May God make me worthy of such an honour, sire !

120 THE

said she. "And here I swear that if heaven double my life,
every hour shall be spent in the one endeavour to make
you a happier man ! ;

She had knelt down, and the king, still holding her hand,
knelt down beside her.

"And I swear too," he cried, "that if my days also are
doubled, you will now and forever be the one and only
woman for me."

And so their double oath was taken, an oath which was
to be tested in the future, for each did live almost double
their years, and yet neither broke the promise made hand in
hand on that evening in the shadow-girt chamber.

121

CHAPTER XII.

THE KING RECEIVES.

IT mav have been that Mademoiselle Xanon. the faithful

•

:. of Madame de Maintenon. had leai th ne

-

of this interview, or it may he that Pere La Chaise, with
the shrewdness for which his Order is famous, h. me to

the conclusion that publicity was the best means of hold-
ing the king to his present intention : but whatever I
source, it was known all over the court next day that : E
old favourite was again in disgrace, and that there was
talk of a marriage between the king" and the governess of
his children. It was whispered at the /vr:r levert confinr..
at the grai : . \Me^ and was common g ssip by the time
that the king had returned from chapel. Pack into wa
robe and drawer went the flaring silks and the feather
hats, and out once more came the sombre coat and the
matronly dress. Scudery and Calpernedi gave place to the
missal and St. Thomas a Kempis, while Bourc. ! fter
preaching for a week to empty benches, found his chapel
packed to the last scat with wearv gentlemen and tap
bearing ladies. By midday there was %ne in the court
who had not heard the tidings, save only Madame

*•- -

Montespan. who. alarmed by her lover's absence, k
remained in haughty seclusion in her room, and knew
nothing of what had passed. Many there were who wou
have loved to carry her the tidings ; but the king's ch.--- ., . -
had been frequent of late, and who would dare to make B
mortal enemy of one who mi^ht. ere many weeks were past,

. ^ .

have the lives and fortunes of the whole [ in the hollow

of her hand ?

9

122 THE REFUGEES.

Louis, in his innate selfishness, had been so accustomed
to regard every event entirely from the side of how it would
affect himself, that it had never struck him that his long-
suffering family, who had always yielded to him the absolute
obedience which he claimed as his right, would venture to
offer any opposition to his new resolution. He was
surprised, therefore, when his brother demanded a private
interview that afternoon, and entered his presence without
the complaisant smile and humble air with which he was
wont to appear before him.

Monsieur was a curious travesty of his elder brother. He
was shorter, but he wore enormously high boot-heels, which
brought him to a fair stature. In figure he had none of that
grace which marked the king, nor had he the elegant hand
and foot which had been the delight of sculptors. He was
fat, waddled somewhat in his walk, and wore an enormous
black wig, which rolled down in rows and rows of curls ovei
his shoulders. His face was longer and darker than the
king's, and his nose more prominent, though he shared with
his brother the large brown eyes which each had inherited
from Anne of Austria. He had none of the simple and yet
stately taste which marked the dress of the monarch, but his
clothes were all tagged over with fluttering ribbons, which
rustled behind him as he walked, and clustered so thickly
over his feet as to conceal them from view. Crosses, stars,
jewels, and insignia were scattered broadcast over his person,
and the broad blue ribbon of the Order of the Holy Ghost
was slashed across his coat, and was gathered at the end
into a great bow, which formed the incongruous support of a
diamond-hilted sword. Such was the figure which rolled
towards the king, bearing in his right hand his many-
feathered beaver, and appearing in his person, as he was in
his mind, an absurd burlesque of the monarch.

"Why, monsieur, you seem less gay than usual to-day,"
said the king, with a smile. " Your dress, indeed, is bright,

THE KING RECEIVES. 123

but your brow is clouded. I trust that all is well with
madam e and with the Due de Chartres ? '

" Yes, sire, they are well ; but they are sad like myself,
and from the same cause.''

" Indeed ! and why ? '

11 Have I ever failed in my duty as your younger brother,
sire ? "

" Never, Philippe, never ! " said the king, laying his hand
affectionately upon the other's shoulder. " You have set an
excellent example to my subjects."

" Then why set a slight upon me ? '

"Philippe!"

"Yes, sire, I say it is a slight. We are of royal blood,
and our wives are of royal blood also. You married the
Princess of Spain ; I married the Princess of Bavaria. It
was a condescension, but still I did it. My first wife was
the Princess of England. How can we admit into a house
which has formed such alliances as these a woman who is
the widow of a hunchback singer, a mere lampooner, a man
whose name is a byword through Europe ? '

The king had stared in amazement at his brother, but his
anger now overcame his astonishment.

" Upon my word ! ' he cried ; " upon my word ! I have
said just now that you have been an excellent brother, but I
fear that I spoke a little prematurely. And so you take
upon yourself to object to the lady whom I select as my
wife ! "

" I do, sire."

" And by what right ? "

" By the right of the family honour, sire, which is as
much mine as yours."

"Man," cried the king furiously, "have you not yet
learned that within this kingdom I am the fountain of
honour, and that whomsoever I may honour becomes by
that very fact honourable ? Were I to take a cinder-wench

124 THE REFUGEES.

out of the Rue Poissonniere, I could at my will raise her up
until the highest in France would be proud to bow down
before her. Do you not know this ? ':

" No, I do not," cried his brother, with all the obstinacy
of a weak man who has at last been driven to bay. " I look

•/

upon it as a slight upon me and a slight upon my wife."

"Your wife! I have every respect for Charlotte Elizabeth
of Bavaria, but how is she superior to one whose grandfather
was the dear friend and comrade in arms of Henry the
Great ? Enough ! I will not condescend to argue such a
matter with you ! Begone, and do not return to my pres-
ence until you have learned not to interfere in my affairs."

"For all that, my wife shall not know her!' snarled
monsieur; and then, as his brother took a fiery step or two
towards him, he turned &Jid scuttled out of the room as fast
as his awkward gait and high heels would allow him.
N But the king was to have no quiet that day. If Madame
tie Maintenon's friends had rallied to her yesterday, her
enemies were active to-day. Monsieur had hardly disap-
peared before there rushed into the room a youth who bore
upon his rich attire every sign of having just arrived from
a dusty journey. He was pale-faced and auburn-haired,
with features which would have been strikingly like the
king's if it were not that his nose had been disfigured in his
youth. The king's face had lighted up at the sight of him,
but it darkened again as he hurried forward and threw him-
self down at his feet.

"Oh, sire," he cried, "spare us this grief; — spare us this
humiliation ! I implore you to pause before you do what
will bring dishonour upon yourself and upon us ! '

The king started back from him, and paced angrily up
and down the room.

"This is intolerable!' he cried. " It was bad from my
brother, but worse from my son. You are in a conspiracy
with him, Louis, Monsieur has told you to act this part."

KING RECEIVES. 125

The dauphin rose to his feet and looked steadfastly at
his angry father.

"I have not seen my uncle," he said. "I was at Meudon
when I heard this news — this dreadful news — and I sprang
upon my horse, sire, and galloped over to implore you to
think again before you drag our royal house so low."

"You are insolent, Louis."

" I do not mean to be so, sire. But consider, sire, that
my mother was a queen, and that it would be strange indeed
if for a step-mother I had a —

The king raised his hand with a gesture of authority
which checked the word upon his lips.

" Silence !" he cried, "or you may say that which would
for ever set a gulf between us. Am I to be treated worse
than my humblest subject, who is allowed to follow his own
bent in his private affairs ? '

" This is not your own private affair, sire ; all that you
do reflects upon your family., The great deeds of your
reign have given a new glory to the name of Bourbon. Oh,
do not mar it now, sire ! I implore it of you upon my bended
knees ! "

"You talk like a fool!' cried his father roughly. "I
propose to marry a virtuous and charming lady of one of
the oldest noble families of France, and you talk as if I were
doing something degrading and unheard of. What is your
objection to this lady ? '

" That she is the daughter of a man whose vices were
well known, that her brother is of the worst repute, that she
has led the life of an adventuress, is the widow of a deformed
scribbler, and that she occupies a menial position in the
palace.''

The king had stamped with his foot upon the carpet more
than once during this frank address, but his anger blazed
into a fury at its conclusion.

" Do you dare," he cried, with flashing eyes, " to call the

126 THE REFUGEES.

charge of my children a menial position ? I say that there
is no higher in the kingdom. Go back to Meudon, sir, this
instant, and never dare to open your mouth again on the
subject. Away, I say ! When, in God's good time, you
are king of this country, you may claim your own way, but
until then do not venture to cross the plans of one who is
both your parent and your monarch."

The young man bowed low, and walked with dignity from
the chamber; but he turned with his hand upon the door.

"The Abbe Fenelon came with me, sire. Is it your
pleasure to see him ? '

" Away ! away ! '' cried the king furiously, still striding
up and down the room with angry face and flashing eyes.
The dauphin left the cabinet, and was instantly succeeded
by a tall thin priest, some forty years of age, strikingly
handsome, with a pale refined face, large well-marked feat-
ures, and the easy deferential bearing of cine who has had a
long training in courts. The king turned sharply upon him.
and looked hard at him with a distrustful eye.

" Good-day, Abbe Fenelon," said he. " May I ask what
the object of this interview is ? '

" You have had the condescension, sire, on more than one
occasion, to ask my humble advice, and even to express
yourself afterwards as being pleased that you had acted upon
it."

" Well ? Well ? Well ? " growled the monarch.

" If rumour says truly, sire, you are now at a crisis when
a word of impartial counsel might be of value to you. Need
I say that it would -

" Tut ! tut ! Why all these words ? ' cried the king.
" You have been sent here by others to try and influence me
against Madame de Maintenon."

" Sire, I have had nothing but kindness from that lady.
I esteem and honour her more than any lady in France."

" In that case, abbe, you will, I am sure, be glad to hear

KING RECEIVES.

that I am about to marry her. Good-day, abbe. I regret
that I have not longer time to devote to this very interesting
conversation."

"But, sire -

" When my mind is in doubt, abbe, I value your advice
very highly. On this occasion my mind is happily not in
doubt. I have the honour to wish you a very good-day."

The king's first hot anger had died away by now, and had
left behind it a cold, bitter spirit which was even more for-
midable to his antagonists. The abbe, glib of tongue and
fertile of resource as he was, felt himself to be silenced and
overmatched. He walked backwards, with three long bows,
as was the custom of the court, and departed.

But the king had little breathing-space. His assailants
knew that with persistence they had bent his will before,
and they trusted that they might do so again. It was Lou-
vois, the minister, now who entered the room, with his
majestic port, his lofty bearing, his huge wig, and his aristo-
cratic face, which, however, showed some signs of trepida-
tion as it met the baleful eye of the king.

"Well, Louvois, what now?' he asked impatiently.
" Has some new state matter arisen ? '

"There is but one new state matter which has arisen,
sire, but it is of such importance as to banish all others from
our mind."

"What then?"

"Your marriage, sire."

" You disapprove of it ? '

" Oh, sire, can I help it ? '

"Out of my room, sir! Am I to be tormented to death
by your importunities ? What ! You dare to linger when
I order you to go ! ' The king advanced angrily upon the
minister, but Louvois suddenly flashed out his rapier. Louis
sprang back with alarm and amazement upon his face, but
it was the hilt and not the point which was presented to him.

128 ?H£ REFUGEES.

" Pass it through my heart, sire ! ' the minister cried,
falling upon his knees, his whole great frame in a quiver
with emotion. " I will not live to see your glory fade i '

" Great heaven ! ' shrieked Louis, throwing the sword
down upon the ground, and raising his hands to his temples,
" I believe that this is a conspiracy to drive me mad. Was
ever a man so tormented in this life ? This will be a private
marriage, man, and it will not affect the state in the least
degree. Do you hear me ? Have you understood me ?
What more do you want ? '

Louvois gathered himself up, and shot his rapier back
into its sheath.

"Your Majesty is determined ? ' he asked.

" Absolutely."

" Then I say no more. I have done my duty." He
bowed his head as«one in deep dejection when he departed,
but in truth his heart was lightened within him, for he had
the king's assurance that the woman whom he hated would,
even though his wife, not sit on the throne of the Queens of
France.

These repeated attacks, if they had not shaken the king's
resolution, had at least irritated and exasperated him to the
utmost. Such a blast of opposition was a new thing to a
man whose will had been the one law of the land. It left,
him ruffled and disturbed, and without regretting his resolu
tion, he still, with unreasoning petulance, felt inclined to
visit the inconvenience to which he had been put upon those
whose advice he had followed. He wore accordingly no very
cordial face when the usher in attendance admitted the vener-
able figure of Father La Chaise, his confessor.

"I wish you all happiness, sire," said the Jesuit, "and I
congratulate you from my heart that you have taken the
great step which must lead to content both in this world
and the next."

" I have had neither happiness nor contentment yet.

-— • • -*

W

w

X
o

f-

*-H

C/3

THE KING RECEIVES. i^cj

father," answered the king peevishly. " I have never been
so pestered in my life. The whole court has been on its
knees to me to entreat me to change my intention."

The Jesuit looked at him anxiously out of his keen gray
eyes.

" Fortunately, your Majesty is a man of strong will,"
said he, " and not to be so easily swayed as they think."

" No, no, I did not give an inch. But still, it must be
confessed that it is very unpleasant to have so many against
one. I think that most men would have been shaken."

" Now is the time to stand firm, sire ; Satan rages to see
you passing out of his power, and he stirs up afl his friends
and sends all his emissaries to endeavour to detain you.'

•/

But the king was not in a humour to be easily consoled.

"Upon my word, father," said he, "you do not seem to
have much respect for my family. My brother a'nd my son,
with the Abbe Fenelon and the Minister of War, are the
emissaries to whom you allude."

" Then there is the more credit to your Majesty for having
resisted them. You have done nobly, sire. You have earned
the praise and blessing of Holy Church."

" I trust that what I have done is right, father," said the
king gravely. " I should be glad to see you again later in

t

the evening, but at present I desire a little leisure for soli-
tary thought."

Father La Chaise left the cabinet with a deep distrust of
the king's intentions. It was obvious that the powerful
appeals which had been made to him had shaken if they had
failed to alter his resolution. What would be the result if
more were made ? And more would be made ; that was as
certain as that darkness follows light. Some master-card
must be played now which would bring the matter to a
crisis at once, for every day of delay was in favour of their
opponents. To hesitate was to lose. All must be staked
upon one final throw.

130 THE REFUGEES.

The Bishop of Meaux was waiting in the anteroom, and
Father La Chaise in a few brief words let him see the
danger of the situation, and the means by which they
should meet it Together they sought Madame de Main-
tenon in her room. She had discarded the sombre widow's
dress which she had chosen since her first coming to court,
and wore now, as more in keeping with her lofty prospects,
a rich yet simple costume of white satin with bows of silver
serge. A single diamond sparkled in the thick coils of her
dark tresses. The change had taken years from a face and
figure which had always looked much younger than her age,
and as the two plotters looked upon her perfect complexion,
her regular features, so calm and yet so full of refinement,
and the exquisite grace of her figure and bearing, they could
not but feel that if they failed in their ends, it was not for
want of having a perfect tool at their command.

She had risen at their entrance, and her expression showed
that she had read upon their faces something of the anxiety
which filled their minds.

" You have evil news ! ' she cried.

"No, no, my daughter." It was the bishop who spoke,
" But we must be on our guard against our enemies, who
would turn the king away from you if they could."

Her face shone at the mention of her lover.

" Ah, you do not know ! " she cried. " He has made a
vow. I would trust him as I would trust myself. I know
that he will be true."

But the Jesuit's intellect was arrayed against the intuition
of the woman.

" Our opponents are many and strong," said he, shaking
his head. " Even if the king remain firm, he will be an-
noyed at every turn, so that he will feel his life is darker
instead of lighter, save, of course, madame, for that bright-
ness which you cannot fail to bring with you. We must
bring the matter to an end."

THE KING RECEIVES. 131

" And how, father ? "

11 The marriage must be at once ! '

" At once ! "

" Yes. This very night, if possible."

"Oh, father, you ask too much. The king would never
consent to such a proposal."

"It is he that will propose it."

"And why? "

" Because we shall force him to. It is only thus that all
the opposition can be stopped. When it is done, the court
will accept it. Until it is done, they will resist it."

"What would you have me do, then, father ? '

" Resign the king."

" Resign him ! ' she turned as pale as a lily, and looked
at him in bewilderment.

" It is the best course, madame."

" Ah, father, I might have done it last month, last week,
even yesterday morning. But now — oh, it would break my
heart ! "

" Fear not, madame. We advise you for the best. Go
to the king now, at once. Say to him that you have heard
that he has been subjected to much annoyance upon your
account, that you cannot bear to think that you should
be a cause of dissension in his own family, and therefore
you will release him from his promise, and will withdraw
yourself from the court forever.''

" Go now? At once? '

"Yes, without loss of an instant."

She cast a light mantle about her shoulders.
" I follow your advice," she said. " I believe that you are
wiser than I. But, oh, if he should take me at my word !
" He will not take you at your word.'
" It is a terrible risk."

" But such an end as this cannot be gained without ns
Go, my child, and may heaven's blessing go with you !

132

CHAPTER XIII.
THE KING HAS IDEAS.

THE king had remained alone in his cabinet, wrapped in
somewhat gloomy thoughts, and pondering over the means
by which he might carry out his purpose and yet smooth
away the opposition which seemed to be so strenuous and
so universal. Suddenly there came a gentle tap at the door,
and there was the woman who was in his thoughts, standing
in the twilight before him. He sprang to his feet and held
out his hands with a smile which would have reassured her
had she doubted his constancy.

" Fran9oise ! You here! Then I have at last a welcome
visitor, and it is the first one to-day."

" Sire, I fear that you have been troubled."

" I have indeed, Fran9oise."

" But I have a remedy for it.'

" And what is that ? "

" I shall leave the court, sire, and you shall think no more
of what has passed between us. I have brought discord
where I meant to bring peace. Let me retire to St. Cyr, or
to the Abbey of Fontevrault, and you will no longer be called
upon to make such sacrifices for my sake."

The king turned deathly pale, and clutched at her shawl
with a trembling hand, as though he feared that she was
about to put her resolution into effect that very instant.
For years his mind had accustomed itself to lean upon hers.
He had turned to her whenever he needed support, and even
when, as in the last week, he had broken away from her for
a time, it was still all-important to him to know that she
was there, the faithful friend, ever forgiving, ever soothing}

THE KING HAS IDEAS. 133

waiting for him with her ready counsel and sympathy. But
that she should leave him now, leave him altogether, such a
thought had never occurred to him, and it struck him with
a chill of surprised alarm.

" You cannot mean it, Fran9oise," he cried, in a trem-
bling voice. " No, no, it is impossible that you are in
earnest."

'* It would break my heart to leave you, sire, but it breaks
it also to think that for my sake you are estranged from
your own family and ministers."

" Tut ! Am I not the king ? Shall I not take my own
course without heed to them ? No, no, Fran9oise, you must
not leave me ! You must stay with me and be my wife."
He could hardly speak for agitation, and he still grasped at
her dress to detain her. She had been precious to him
before, but was far more so now that there seemed to be a
possibility of his losing her. She felt the strength of her
position, and used it to the utmost.

" Some time must elapse before our wedding, sire. Yet
during all that interval you will be exposed to these annoy-
ances. How can I be happy when I feel that I have brought
upon you so long a period of discomfort ? '

" And why should it be so long, Fran9oise ?"

"A day would be too long, sire, for you to be unhappy
through my fault. It is a misery to me to think of it.
Believe me, it would be better that I should leave you."

" Never ! You shall not ! Why should we even wait a
day, Fran9oise ? I am ready. You are ready. Why should
we not be married now ? '

" At once ! Oh, sire ! "

" We shall. It is my wish. It is my order. That is my
answer to those who would drive me. They shall know
nothing of it until it is done, and then let us see which of
them will dare to treat my wife with anything but respect.
Let it be done secretly, Francoise. I will send in a trusty

134 THE REFUGEES.

messenger this very night for the Archbishop of Paris, and
I swear that, if all France stand in the way, he shall make
us man and wife before he departs."

" Is it your will, sire ? '

" It is ; and ah, I can see by your eyes that it is yours
also ! We shall not lose a moment, Fran9oise. What a
blessed thought of mine, which will silence their tongues
forever ! When it is ready they may know, but not before.
To your room, then, dearest of friends and truest of women!
When we meet again, it will be to form a band which all
this court and all this kingdom shall not be able to loose."

The king was all on fire with the excitement of this new
resolution. He had lost his air of doubt and discontent,
and he paced swiftly about the room with a smiling face and
shining eyes. Then he touched a small gold bell, which
summoned Bontems, his private body-servant.

" What o'clock is it, Bontems ? ':

" It is nearly six, sire."

" Hum ! ' The king considered for some moments.
" Do you know where Captain de Catinat is, Bontems ? '

" He was in the grounds, sire, but I heard that he would
ride back to Paris to-night."

" Does he ride alone ? "

" He has one friend with him."

" Who is this friend ? An officer of the guards ? '

"No, sire; it is a stranger from over the seas, from
America, as I understand, who has stayed with him of late,
and to whom Monsieur de Catinat has been showing the
wonders of your Majesty's palace."

"A stranger! So much the better. Go, Bontems, and
bring them both to me."

" I trust that they have not started, sire. I will see.;'
He hurried off, and was back in ten minutes in the cabinet
once more.

" Well ? "

THE KING HAS IDEAS *35

*' I have been fortunate, sire. Their horses had been led
out and their feet were in the stirrups when I reached
them."

Cl Where are they, then ? '

" They await your Majesty's orders in the anteroom."

" Show them in, Bontems5 and give admission to none,
not even to the minister, until they have left me."

To De Catinat an audience with the monarch was a
common incident of his duties, but it was with profound
astonishment that he learned from Bontemc that his friend
and companion was included in the order. He was eagerly
endeavouring to whisper into the young American's ear come
precepts and warnings as to what to do and what to avoid,
when Bontcmcreappeared and ushered them into the presence.

It was with a feeling of curiosity, not unmixed with awe,
that Amos Green, to whom Governor Dongan, of New
York, had been the highest embodiment of human power,
entered the private chamber of the greatest monarch in
Christendom. The magnificence of the antechamber in
which he had waited, the velvets, the paintings, the gildings,
with the throng of gaily dressed officials and of magnificent
guardsmen, had all impressed his imagination, and had
prepared him for some wondrous figure robed and crowned,
r. fit centre for cuch a scene. As his eyes fell upon a quietly
dressed, bright-eyed man, half a head shorter than himself,
with a trim dapper figure and an erect carriage, he could
not help glancing round the room to see if this were indeed
the monarch, or if it were some other of those endless
officials who interposed themselves between him and the
other world. The reverent salute of his companion, how-
ever, showed him that this must indeed be the king, so he
bowed and then drew himself erect with the simple dignity
of a man who has been trained in Nature's school.

" Good-evening, Captain de Catinat," said the king, with

a pleasant smile. " Your friend, as I understand, is a

10

136 THE REFUGEES.

stranger to this country. I trust, sir, that you have found
something here to interest and to amuse you ? '

"Yes, your Majesty. I have seen your great city, and it
is a wonderful one. And my friend has shown me this
palace, with its woods and its grounds. When I go back to
my own country I will have much to say of what I have
seen in your beautiful land."

"You speak French, and yet you are not a Canadian.'

"No, sire; I am from the English provinces."

The king looked with interest at the powerful figure, the
bold features, and the free bearing of the young foreigner,
and his mind flashed back to the dangers which the Comte
de Frontenac had foretold from these same colonies. If
this were indeed a type of his race, they must in truth be
a people whom it would be better to have as friends than
as enemies. His mind, however, ran at present on other
things than statecraft, and he hastened to give De Catinat
his orders for the night.

"You will ride into Paris on my service. Your friend
can go with you. Two are safer than one when they bear
a message of state. I wish you, however, to wait until
nightfall before you start."

"Yes, sire."

" Let none know your errand, and see that none follow you.
You know the house of Archbishop Harlay, prelate of Paris ?'

"Yes, sire."

" You will bid him drive out hither and be at the north-west
side postern by midnight. Let nothing hold him back. Storm
or fine, he must be here to-night. It is of the first importance."

" He shall have your order, sire."

" Very good. Adieu, captain. Adieu, monsieur. I trust
that your stay in France may be a pleasant one." He waved
his hand, smiling with the fascinating grace which had won
so many hearts, and so dismissed the two friends to thtir
new mission.

CHAPTER XIV.
THE LAST CARD.

MADAME DE MONTESPAX still kept her rooms, uneasy in
mind at the king's disappearance, but unwilling to show
her anxiety to the court by appearing among them, or by
making any inquiry as to what had occurred. While she
thus remained in ignorance of the sudden and complete
collapse of her fortunes, she had one active and energetic
agent who had lost no incident of what had occurred, and
who watched her interests with as much zeal as if they
were his own. And indeed they were his own ; for her
brother, Monsieur de Vivonne, had gained everything for
which he yearned, money, lands, and perferment, through
his sister's notoriety, and he well knew that the fall of her
fortunes must be very rapidly followed by that of his own-
By nature bold, unscrupulous, and resourceful, he was not
a man to lose the game without playing it out to the
very end with all the energy and cunning of which he was
capable. Keenly alert to all that passed, he had, from the
time that he first heard the rumour of the king's intention,
haunted the antechamber and drawn his own conclusions
from what he had seen. Nothing had escaped him — the
disconsolate faces of monsieur and of the dauphin, the
visit of Pere La Chaise and Bossuet to the lady's room, her
return, the triumph which shone in her eyes as she came
away from the interview. He had seen Bontems hurry oft
and summon the guardsman and his friend. He had heard
them order their horses to be brought out in a couple of
hours' time, and finally, from a spv whom he employed
among the servants, he learned that an unwonted bustle was

130 THE REFUGEES.

going forward in Madame de Maintenon's room, that
Mademoiselle Xanon was half wild with excitement, and
that two court milliners had been hastily summoned to
madame's apartment. It was only, however, when he
heard from the same servant that a chamber was to be
prepared for the reception that night of the Archbishop of
Paris that he understood how urgent was the danger.

Madame de Montespan had spent the evening stretched
upon a sofa, in the worst possible humour with everyone
around her. She had read, but had tossed aside the book,
She had written, but had torn up the paper. A thousand
fears and suspicions chased each other through her head.
What had become of the king, then ? He had seemed cold
yesterday, and his eyes had been forever sliding round to the
clock. And to-day he had not come at all. Was it his
gout, perhaps ? Or was it possible that she was again
losing her hold upon him? Surely it could not be that!
She turned upon her couch and faced the mirror which
flanked the door. The candles had just been lit in her
chamber, two score of them, each with silver backs which
reflected their light until the room was as bright as day.
There in the mirror was the brilliant chamber, the deep red
ottoman, and the single figure in its gauzy dress of white
and silver. She leaned upon her elbow, admiring the deep
tint of her own eyes with their long dark lashes, the white
curve of her throat, and the perfect oval of her face. She
examined it all carefully, keenly, as though it were her rival
that lay before her, but nowhere could she see a scratch of
Time's malicious nails. She still had her beauty, then, And
if it had once won the king, why should it not suffice to hold
him ? Of course it would do so. She reproached herself
for her fears. Doubtless he was indisposed, or perhaps he
would come still. Ha ! there was the sound of an opening
door and of a quick step in her anteroom. Was it he, or at
least his messenger with a note from him ?

THE LAST CARD. 139

But no, it was her brother, with the haggard eyes and
drawn face of a man who is weighed down with his own
evil tidings. He turned as he entered, fastened the door,
and then striding across the room, locked the other one
which led to her boudoir.

•• We are safe from interruption," he panted. " I have
hastened here, for every second may be invaluable. Have
you heard anything from the king ? '

" Nothing." She had sprung to her feet, and was gazing
at him with a face which was as pale as his own.

'•The hour has come for action, Francoise. It is the
hour at which the Mortemarts have always shown at their
best. Do not yield to the blow, then, but gather yourself
to meet it."

"What is it':1' She tried to speak in her natural tone,
but only a whisper came to her dry lips.

•• The king is about to marry Madame de Maintenon."

il The gou'Cirnanti ! The widow Scarron ! It is impos-
sible ! "

" It is certain. '

" To marrv : Did vou sav to marrv ?

, »

'* Yes, he will marry her."

The woman flung out her hands in a gesture of contempt,
and laughed loud and bitterly.

"You are easily frightened, brother," said she. "Ah. you
do not know your little sister. Perchance if you were not
mv brother vou mi^ht rate mv powers more hi^hlv. Give

, « * i "- -

me a day, only one little day. and you will see Louis, the
proud Louis, down at the hem of my dres- I .isk my pardon
for this slight. I tell you that he cannot break the bonds
that hold him. One day is all I ask to bring him back."

" But you cannot have it."

'•What? "

•• The marriage is to-night."

•• You are mad, Charles.'

140 THE REFUGEES.

" I am certain of it." In a few broken sentences he shot
out all that he had seen and heard. She listened with a
grim face, and hands which closed ever tighter and tighter
as he proceeded. But he had said the truth about the
Mortemarts. They came of a contentious blood, and were
ever at their best at a moment of action. Hate rather than
dismay filled her heart as she listened, and the whole energy
of her nature gathered and quickened to meet the crisis.

" I shall go and see him," she cried, sweeping towards
the door.

" No, no, Francoise. Believe me you will ruin every-
thing if you do. Strict orders have been given to the guard
to admit no one to the king '

" But I shall insist upon passing them."

"Believe me, sister, it is worse than useless. I have
spoken with the officer of the guard, and the command is a
stringent one."

"Ah, I shall manage."

" No, you shall not," He put his back against the door.
" I know that it is useless, and I will not have my sister
make herself the laughing-stock of the court, trying to force
her way into the room of a man who repulses her."

His sister's cheeks flushed at the words, and she paused
irresolute.

" Had I only a day, Charles, I am sure that I could bring
him back to me. There has been some other influence here,
that meddlesome Jesuit or the pompous Bossuet, perhaps.
Only one day to counteract their wiles i Can I not see them
waving hell-fire before his foolish eyes, as one swings a
torch before a bull to turn it ? Oh, if I could but baulk
them to-night ! That woman ! that cursed woman ! The
foul viper which I nursed in my bosom ! Oh, I had rather
see Louis in his grave than married to her ! Charles,
Charles, it must be stopped ; I say it must be stopped ! I
will give anything, everything, to prevent it ! '

THE LAST CARD

" What will you give, my sister?'

She looked at him aghast. ;i What ! you do not wish me
to buy you? ' she said.

" No; but I wish to buy others."

" Ha! You see a chance, then! '

" One, and one only. But time presses. I want money.''

" How much ? '

" I cannot have too much. All that you can spare."

With hands which trembled with eagerness she unlocked
a secret cupboard in the
wall in which she con-
cealed her valuables. A
blaze of jewellery met her
brother's eyes as he peered
over her shoulder. Great
rubies, costly emeralds,
deep ruddy beryls, glim-
mering diamonds, were
scattered there in one bril-
liant shimmering many-
coloured heap, the harvest
which she had reaped from
the king's generosity dur-
ing more than fifteen years.
At one side were three
drawers, the one over the
other. She drew out the
lowest one. It was full
to the brim of glittering
Ion is d'ors.

" Take what you will I ' she said.

Quick!"

' He stuffed the money in handfuls into the side pockets of
his coat. Coins slipped between his fingers and tinkled and
wheele4 over the floor, but neither cast a ghnce at them,

THE PAGE.

" And now your plan !

142 THE REFUGEES.

" Your plan ? " she repeated.

" We must prevent the archbishop from arriving here.
Then the marriage would be postponed until to-morrow night,
and you would have time to act ."

" But how prevent it ? '

"There are a dozen good rapiers about the court which
are to be bought for less than I carry in one pocket. There
is De la Touche, young Turberville, old Major Despard,
Raymond de Carnac, and the four Latours. I will gather
them together, and wait on the road."

" And waylay the archbishop ? "

" No ; the messengers."

" Oh, excellent ! You are a prince of brothers ! If no
message reach Paris, we are saved. Go ; go ; do not lose a
moment, my dear Charles."

" It is very well, Fran9oise ; but what are we to do with
them when we get them ? We may lose our heads over the
matter, it seems to me. After all, they are the king's
messengers, and we can scarce pass our swords through
them."

"No?"

" There would be no forgiveness for that."

" But consider that before the matter is looked into I shall
have regained my influence with the king."

" All very fine, my little sister, but how long is your in-
fluence to last ? A pleasant life for us if at every change of
favour we have to fly the country ! No, no, Fran9oise ; the
most that we can do is to detain the messengers."

" Where can you detain them ? '

" I have an idea. There is the castle of the Marquis de
Montespan at Portillac."

" Of mv husband ! '

j

" Precisely."

" Of my most bitter enemy I Oh, Charles, you are not
serious."

THE LAST CARD. 143

" On the contrary, I was never more so. The marquis
was away in Paris yesterday, and has not yet returned.
Where is the ring with his arms ? '

She hunted among her jewels and picked out a gold ring
with a broad engraved face.

" This will be our key. When good Marceau, the steward,
sees it, every dungeon in the castle will be at our disposal.
It is that or nothing. There is no other place where we can
hold them safe."

" But when my husband returns ? '

" Ah, he may be a little puzzled as to his captives. And
the complaisant Marceau may have an evil quarter of an
hour. But that may not be for a week, and by that time, my
little sister, I have confidence enough in you to think that
you really may have finished the campaign. Not another
word, for every moment is of value. Adieu, Fran9oise!
We shall not be conquered without a struggle. I will send
a message to you to-night to let you know how fortune uses
us." He took her fondly in his arms, kissed her, and then
hurried from the room.

For hours after his departure she paced up and down with
noiseless steps upon the deep soft carpet, her hands still
clenched, her eyes flaming, her whole soul wrapped and con-
sumed with jealousy and hatred of her rival. Ten struck,
and eleven, and midnight, but still she waited, fierce and
eager, straining her ears for every foot-fall which might be
the herald of news. At last it came. She heard the quick
step in the passage, the tap at the anteroom door, and the
whispering of her black page. Quivering with impatience,
she rushed in and took the note herself from the dusty
cavalier who had brought it. It was but six words scrawled
roughly upon a wisp of dirty paper, but it brought the colour
back to her cheeks and the smile to her lips. It was her
brother's writing, and it ran, "The archbishop will not come
to-night."

144

CHAPTER XV.
THE MIDNIGHT MISSION.

DE CATINAT in the meanwhile was perfectly aware of the
importance of the mission which had been assigned to him.
The secrecy which had been enjoined by the king, his evi-
dent excitement, and the nature of his orders, all confirmed
the rumours which were already beginning to buzz round
the court. He knew enough of the intrigues and antago-
nisms with which the court was full to understand that
every precaution was necessary in carrying out his instruc-
tions. He waited, therefore, until night had fallen before
ordering his soldier-servant to bring round the two horses
to one of the less public gates of the grounds. As he and
his friend walked together to the spot, he gave the young
American a rapid sketch of the situation at the court, and
of the chance that this nocturnal ride might be an event
which would affect the future history of France.

" I like your king," said Amos Green, " and I am glad to
ride in his service. He is a slip of a man to be the head of
a great nation, but he has the eye of a chief. If one met
him alone in a Maine forest, one would know him as a man
who was different to his fellows. Well, I am glad that he
is going to marry again, though it's a great house for any
woman to have to look after."

De Catinat smiled at his comrade's idea of a queen's duties.

"Are you armed?' he asked. "You have no sword or
pistols ? '

"No; if I may not carry my gun, I had rather not be
troubled by tools that I have never learned to use. I have
my knife. But why do you ask ? '

THE MIDNIGHT MISSION. 145

" Because there may be danger."

" And how ? "

" Many have an interest in stopping this marriage. All
the first men of the kingdom are bitterly against it. If they
could stop us, they would stop it, for to-night at least."

" But I thought it was a secret ? '

" There is no such thing at a court. There is the dauphin,
or the king's brother, either of them, or any of their friends,
would be right glad that we should be in the Seine before we
reach the archbishop's house this night. But who is this ?'

A burly figure had loomed up through the gloom on the
path upon which they were going. As it approached, a
coloured lamp dangling Lorn one of the trees shone upon
the blue and silver of an officer of the guards. It was Major
de Brissac, of De Catinat's own regiment.

" Hullo ! Whither away ? " he asked.

"To Paris, major."

" I go there myself within an hour. Will you not wait,
that we may go together ? '

" I am sorry, but I ride on a matter of urgency. I must
not lose a minute.7'

" Very good. Good-night, and a pleasant ride/'

" Is he a trusty man, our friend the major?" asked Amos
Green, glancing back.

" True as steel."

"Then I would have a word with him." The American
hurried back along the way they had come, while De Catinat
stood chafing at this unnecessary delay. It was a full five
minutes before his companion joined him, and the fiery
blood of the French soldier was hot with impatience and
anger.

" I think that perhaps you had best ride into Paris at your
leisure, my friend," said he. " If I go upon the king's service
I cannot be delayed whenever the whim takes you/'

" I am sorry," answered the other quietly. *'• I had

146 THE REFUGEES.

something to say to your major, and I thought that maybe I
might not see him again."

" Well, here are the horses," said the guardsman as he
pushed open the postern-gate. " Have you fed and watered
them, Jacques ? '

"Yes, my captain/"' answered the man who stood at their
head.

" Boot and saddle, then, friend Green, and we shall not
draw rein again until we see the lights of Paris in front of

us."

The soldier-groom peered through the darkness after them
with a sardonic smile upon his face. " You won't draw
rein, won't you ? ': he muttered as he turned away. " Well,
we shall see about that, my captain ; we shall see about
that."

For a mile or more the comrades galloped along, neck to
neck and knee to knee. A wind had sprung up from the
westward, and the heavens were covered with heavy gray
clouds, which drifted swiftly across, a crescent moon peeping
fitfully from time to time between the rifts. Even during
these moments of brightness the road, shadowed as it was
by heavy trees, was very dark, but when the light was shut
off it was hard, but for the loom upon either side, to tell
where it lay. De Catinat at least found it so, and he peered
anxiously over his horse's ears, and stooped his face to the
mane in his efforts to see his way.

" What do you make of the road ? ' he asked at last.

" It looks as if a good many carriage wheels had passed
over it to-day."

" What ! Mon Dieu ! Do you mean to say that you can
see carriage wheels there ? '

" Certainly, Why not ? "

" Why. man. I cannot see the road at all."

Amos Green laughed heartily, " When you have travelled
in the woods by night as often as I have," said he, "when

IN THE KING'S SERVICE

THE IflDXIGHT MISSION 147

to show a light may mean to lose your hair, one comes to
learn to use one's eyes."

" Then you had best ride on, and I shall keep iust behind
you. So ! Hola ! What is the matter now? '

There had been the sudden sharp snap of something
breaking, and the American had reeled for an instant in the
saddle.

" It's one of my stirrup leathers. It has fallen.''

" Can you find it?"

" Yes ; but I can ride as well without it. Let us push
on."

" Very good. I can just see you now.''

They had galloped for about five minutes in this fashion,
De Catinat's horse's head within a few feet of the other's
tail, when there was a second snap, and the guardsman rolled
out of the saddle on to the ground. He kept his grip of the
reins, however, and was up in an instant at his horse's head,
sputtering out oaths as only an angry Frenchman can.

" A thousand thunders of heaven ! " he cried. " What was
it that happened then ': '

" Your leather has gone too."

'• Two stirrup leathers in five minutes ~: It is not pos-
sible."

': It is not possible that it should be chance." said the
American gravely, swinging himself oft' his horse. " Whv.
what is this ? My other leather is cut, and hangs only by a
thread."

i% And so does mine. I can feel it when I pass my hand
along. Have you a tinder-box? Let us strike a light."

•• Xo. no ; the man who is in the dark is in safety. I let
the other folk strike lights. We can see all that is needful
to us."

" My rein is cut also.'

'• And so is mine."

•• And the girth of mv sadJlc."

•

148 THE REFUGEES.

" It is a wonder that we came so far with whole bones.
Now, who has played us this little trick ? '

" Who could it be but that rogue, Jacques ! He has had
the horses in his charge. By my faith, he shall know what
the strappado means when I see Versailles again."

" But why should he do it ? '

" Ah, he has been set on to it. He has been a tool in the
hands of those who wished to hinder our journey.'"

"Very like. But they must have had some reason behind.
They knew well that to cut our straps would not prevent us
from reaching Paris, since we could ride bareback, or. for
that matter, could run it if need be.33

" They hoped to break our necks."

" One neck they might break, but scarce those of two,
since the fate of the one would warn the other."

" Well, then, what do you think that they meant ? " cried
De Catinat impatiently. " For heaven's sake, let us come
to some conclusion, for every minute is of importance.''

But the other was not to be hurried out of his cool,
methodical fashion of speech and of thought.

" They could not have thought to stop us," said he.
"What did they mean, then ? They could only have meant
to delay us. And why should they wish to delay us ?
What could it matter to them if we gave our message an
hour or two sooner or an hour or two later ? It could not
matter."

" For heaven's sake broke in De Catinat impetu-

ously.

But Amos Green went on hammering the matter slowly
out.

" Why should they wish to delay us, then ? There's only
one reason that I can see. In order to give other folk time
to get in front of us and stop us. That is it, captain. I'd
lay you a beaver-skin to a rabbit-pelt that I'm on the track,
There's been a party of a dozen horsemen along this ground

THE MIDNIGHT MISSION. 149

since the dew began to fall. If we were delayed, they would
have time to form their plans before we came."

" By my faith, you may be right," said De Catinat
thoughtfully. " What would you propose ? '

" That we ride back, and go by some less direct way."

" It is impossible. We should have to ride back to Meu-
don cross-roads, and then it would add ten miles to our
journey."

" It is better to get there an hour later than not to get
there at all."

" Pshaw ! we are surely not to be turned from our path by
a mere guess. There is the St. Germain cross-road about a
mile below. WThen we reach it we can strike to the right
along the south side of the river, and so change our course."

" But we may not reach it."

" If anyone bars our way we shall know how to treat
with them."

" You would fight, then ? "

"Yes."

"What ! with a dozen of them ? "

"A hundred, if we are on the king's errand."

Amos Green shrugged his shoulders.

" You are surely not afraid ? '

" Yes, I am, mighty afraid. Fighting's good enough
when there's no help for it. But I call it a fool's plan to
ride straight into a trap when you might go round it."

"You may do what you like," said De Catinat angrily.
" My father was a gentleman, the owner of a thousand
arpents of land, and his son is not going to flinch in the
king's service."

"My father," answered Amos Green, "was a merchant,
the owner of a thousand skunk-skins, and his son knows a
fool when he sees one."

'•' You are insolent, sir," cried the guardsman. " We can
-ettle this matter at some more fitting opportunity, At

150 TPIE REFUGEES.

present I continue my mission, and you are very welcome to
turn back to Versailles if you are so inclined." He raised
his hat with punctilious politeness, sprang on to his horse,
and rode on down the road.

Amos Green hesitated a little, and then mounting, he
soon overtook his companion. The latter, however, was
still in no very sweet temper, and rode with a rigid neck
without a glance or a word for his comrade. Suddenly his
eyes caught something in the gloom which brought a smile
back to his face. Away in front of them, between two dark
tree clumps, lay a vast number of shimmering, glittering
yellow points, as thick as flowers in a garden. They were
the lights of Paris.

" See ! " he cried, pointing. " There is the city, and close
here must be the St. Germain road. We shall take it, so as
to avoid any danger."

" Very good ! But you should not ride too fast, when
your girth may break at any moment."

" Nay, come on ; we are close to our journey's end. The
St. Germain road opens just round this corner, and then we
shall see our way, for the lights will guide us."

He cut his horse with his whip, and they galloped to-
gether round the curve. Next instant they were both down
in one wild heap of tossing heads and struggling hoofs, De
Catinat partly covered by his horse, and his comrade hurled
twenty paces, where he lay silent and motionless in the
centre of the road.

15*

CHAPTER XVI.
"WHEN THE DEVIL DRIVES."

MONSIEUR DE VIVONNE had laid his ambuscade with discre-
tion. With a closed carriage and a band of chosen ruffians
he had left the palace a good half-hour before the king's mes-
sengers and by the aid of his sister's gold he had managed
that their journey should not be a very rapid one. On reach-
ing the branch road he had ordered the coachman to drive
some little distance along it, and had tethered all the horses
to a fence under his charge. He had then stationed one of
the band as a sentinel some distance up the main highway
to flash a light when the two couriers were approaching. A
stout cord had been fastened eighteen inches from the ground
to the trunk of a way-side sapling, and on receiving the
signal the other end was tied to a gate-post upon the further
side. The two cavaliers could not possibly see it, coming
as it did at the very curve of the road, and as a consequence
their horses fell heavily to the ground, and brought them
down with them. In an instant the dozen ruffians, who had
lurked in the shadow of the trees, sprang out upon them,
sword in hand ; but there was no movement from either of
their victims. De Catinat lay breathing heavily, one leg
under his horse's neck, and the blood trickling in a thin
stream down his pale face, and falling, drop by drop, on to
his silver shoulder-straps. Amos Green was unwounded,
but his injured girth had given way in the fall, and he had
been hurled from his horse on to the hard road with a
violence which had driven every particle of breath from his
body.

Monsieur de Vivonne lit a lantern, and flashed it upon

II

(I

152 THE REFUGEES.

the faces of the two unconscious men. " This is a bad
business, Major Despard," said he to the man next him.
I believe that they are both gone."

Tut! tut ! By my soul, men did not. die like that when
I was young ! ' answered the other, leaning forward hir
fierce grizzled face into the light of the lantern. " I've been
cast from my horse as often as there are tags to my doublet,
but, save for the snap of a bone or two, I never had any
harm from it. Pass your rapier under the third rib of the
horses, De la Touche ; they will never be fit to set hoof to
ground again." Two sobbing gasps, and the thud of their
straining necks falling back to earth told that the two steeds
had come to the end of their troubles.

"Where is Latour ? ' asked Monsieur de Vivonne
" Achille Latour has studied medicine at Montpellier.
Where is he ? "

" Here I am, your excellency. It is not for me to boast,
but I am as handy a man with a lancet as with a rapier,
and it was an evil dav for some sick folk when I first took

•/

to buff and bandolier. Which would you have me look to ? '

"This one in the road."

The trooper bent over Amos Green. " He is not long for
this world," said he. " I can tell it by the catch of his breath.''

" And what is his injury ? '

" A subluxation of the epigastrium. Ah, the words of
learning will still come to my tongue, but it is hard to put
into common terms. Methinks that it were well for me tc
pass my dagger through his throat, for his end is very near."

" Not for your life ! " cried the leader. " If he die without
wound, they cannot lay it to our charge. Turn now to the
other."

The man bent over De Catinat, and placed his hand upon
his heart. As he did so the soldier heaved a long sigh,
opened his eyes, and gazed about him with the face of one
who knows neither where he is nor now he came there. De

" WHEN THE DEVIL DRIVES." 153

Vivonne, who had drawn his hat down over his eyes, and
muffled the lower part of his face in his mantle, took out his
flask, and poured a little of the contents down the injured
man's throat. In an instant a dash of colour had come back
into the guardsman's bloodless cheeks, and the light of
memory into his eyes. He struggled up on to his feet, and
strove furiously to push away those who held him. But his
head still swam, and he could scarce hold himself erect.

" I must to Paris ! " he gasped ; " I must to Paris ! It is
the king's mission. You stop me at your peril ! '

" He has no hurt save a scratch," said the ex-doctor.

" Then hold him fast. And first carry the dying man to
the carriage."

The lantern threw but a small ring of yellow light, so that
when it had been carried over to De Catinat, Amos Green
was left lying in the shadow. Now they brought the light
back to where the young man lay. But there was no sign
of him. He was gone.

For a moment the little group of ruffians stood staring,
the light of their lantern streaming up upon their plumed
hats, their fierce eyes, and savage faces. Then a burst of
oaths broke from them, and De Vivonne caught the false
doctor by the throat, and hurling him down, would have
choked him upon the spot, had the others not dragged them
apart.

" You lying dog!' he cried. "Is this your skill? The
man has fled, and we are ruined ! '

" He has done it in his death-struggle," gasped the other
hoarsely, sitting up and rubbing his throat. "I tell you
that he was in extremis. He cannot be far off."

"That is true. He cannot be far off," cried De Vivonne.
" He has neither horse nor arms. You, Despard and Ray-
mond de Carnac, guard the other, that he play us no trick.
Do you, Latour, and you, Turberville, ride down the road,
and wait by the south gate. If he enter Paris at all, he

154 ME REFUGEES.

must come in that way. If you get him, tie him before
you on your horse, and bring him to the rendezvous. In
any case, it matters little, for he is a stranger, this fellow,
and only here by chance. Now lead the other to the car-
riage, and we shall get away before an alarm is given/5

The two horsemen rode off in pursuit of the fugitive, and De
Catinat, still struggling desperately to escape, was dragged
down the St. Germain road and thrust into the carriage,
which had waited at some distance while these incidents
were being enacted. Three of the horsemen rode ahead, the
coachman was curtly ordered to follow them, and De Vivonne;
having despatched one of the band with a note to his sister,
followed after the coach with the remainder of his despera-
does.

The unfortunate guardsman had now entirely recovered his
senses, and found himself with a strap round his ankles, and
another round his wrists, a captive inside a moving prison
which lumbered heavily along the country road. He had
been stunned by the shock of his fall, and his leg was badly
bruised by the weight of his horse ; but the cut on his
forehead was a mere trifle, and the bleeding had already
ceased. His mind, however, pained him more than his
body. He sank his head into his pinioned hands, and
stamped madly with his feet, rocking himself to and fro in
his despair. What a fool, a treble fool, he had been ! He.
an old soldier who had seen something of war, to walk with
open eyes into such a trap ! The king had chosen him, of
all men, as a trusty messenger, and yet he had failed him-
and failed him so ignominiously, without shot fired or
sword drawn. He was warned, too, warned by a young man
who knew nothing of court intrigue, and who was guided
only by the wits which Nature had given him. De Catinat
dashed himself down upon the leather cushion in the agony
of his thoughts.

But then came a return of that common-sense which lies

" WHEN THE DEVIL DRIVES." 155

so very closely beneath the impetuosity of the Celt. The
matter was done now,, and he must see if it could not be
mended. Amos Green had escaped. That was one grand
point in his favour. And Amos Green had heard the kind's
message, and realised its importance. It was true that he
knew nothing of Paris, but surely a man who could pick his
way at night through the forests of Maine would not he-
baulked in finding so well known a house as that of the
Archbishop of Paris. But then there came a sudden
thought which turned De Catinat's heart to lead. The citv
gates were locked at eight o'clock in the evening. It was
now nearly nine. It would have been easy for him, whose
uniform was a voucher for his message, to gain his way
through. But how could Amos Green, a foreigner and a
civilian, hope to pass ? It was impossible, clearly impos-
sible. And yet, somehow, in spite of the impossibility, he
still clung to a vague hope that a man so full of energy
and resource might find some way out of the difficult}.

And then the thought of escape occurred to his mind.
Might he not even now be in time, perhaps, to carry his
own message ? \Yho were these men who had seized him ?
They had said nothing to give him a hint as to whose tools
they were. Monsieur and the dauphin occurred to his
mind. Probably one or the other. He had only recognised
one of them, old Major Despard, a man who frequented the
low wine-shops of Versailles, and whose sword was ever at
the disposal of the longest purse. And where were these
people taking him to ? It might be to his death. But if they
wished to do away with him, why should they have brought
him back to consciousness ? and why this carriage and
drive ? Full of curiosity, he peered out of the windows.

A horseman was riding close up on either side ; but there
was glass in front of the carriage, and through this he could
gain some idea as to his whereabouts. The clouds had
cleared no\v, and the moon was shining brightly, bathing

156 fl!E REFUGEES.

the whole wide landscape in its shimmering light To the
right lay the open country, broad plains with clumps of
woodland, and the towers of castles pricking out from above
the groves. A heavy bell was ringing in some monastery,
and its dull booming came and went with the breeze. On
the left, but far away, lay the glimmer of Paris. They were
leaving it rapidly behind. Whatever his destination, it was
neither the capital nor Versailles. Then he began to count
the chances of escape. His sword had been removed, and
his pistols were still in the holsters beside his unfortunate
horse. He was unarmed, then, even if he could free himself,
and his captors were at least a dozen in number. There
were three on ahead, riding abreast along the white, moonlit
road. Then there was one on each side, and he should
judge by the clatter of hoofs that there could not be fewer
than half a dozen behind. That would make exactly twelve,
including the coachman, too many, surely, for an unarmed
man to hope to baffle. At the thought of the coachman
he had glanced through the glass front at the broad back of
the man, and he had suddenly, in the glimmer of the carriage
lamp, observed something which struck him with horror.

The man was evidently 'desperately wounded. It was
strange indeed that he could still sit there and flick his whip
with so terrible an injury. In the back of his great red-
coat, just under the left shoulder-blade, was a gash in the
cloth, where some weapon had passed, and all round was a
wide patch of dark scarlet which told its own tale. Nor
was this all. As he raised his whip, the moonlight shone
upon his hand, and De Catinat saw with a shudder that it
also was splashed and clogged with blood. The guardsman
craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the man's face ; but
his broad-brimmed hat was drawn low, and the high collar
of his driving-coat was raised, so that his features wrere in
the shadow. This silent man in front of him, with the
horrible marks upon his person, sent a chill to De Catinat's

"AT THE HORSE, DESPARD, AT THE HORSED

" WHEN THE DEVIL DRIVES:' 157

Valiant heart, and he muttered over one of Marot's Huguenot
psalms; for who but the foul fiend himself would drive a
coach with those crimsoned hands and with a sword driven
through his body ?

And now they had come to a spot where the main road
ran onwards, but a smaller side track wound away down the
steep slope of a hill, and so in the direction of the Seine.
The advance-guard had kept to the main road, and the two
horsemen on either side were trotting in the same direction,
when, to De Catinat's amazement, the carriage suddenly
swerved to one side, and in an instant plunged down the
steep incline, the two stout horses galloping at their topmost
speed, the coachman standing up and lashing furiously at
them, and the clumsy old vehicle bounding along in a way
which threw him backwards and forwards from one seat to
the other. Behind him he could hear a shout of consterna-
tion from the escort, and then the rush of galloping hoofs.
Away they flew, the roadside poplars dancing past at either
window, the horses thundering along with their stomachs to
the earth, and that demon driver still waving those horrible
red hands in the moonlight and screaming out to the
maddened steeds. Sometimes the carriage jolted one way,
sometimes another, swaying furiously, and running on two
side wheels as though it must every instant go over. And
yet, fast as they went, their pursuers went faster still. The
rattle of their hoofs was at their very backs, and suddenly at
one of the windows there came into view the red, distended
nostrils of a horse. Slowly it drew forward, the muzzle,
the eye, the ears, the mane, coming into sight as the rider
still gained upon them, and then above them the fierce face
of Despard and the gleam of a brass pistol barrel.

" At the horse, Despard, at the horse ! ' cried an authori-
tative voice from behind.

The pistol flashed, and the coach lurched over as one of
the horses gave a convulsive spring. But the driver still

THE REFUGEES.

shrieked and lashed with his whip, while the carriage
bounded onwards.

But now the road turned a sudden curve, and there, right
in front of them, not a hundred paces away, was the Seine,
running cold and still in the moonshine. The bank on
either side of the highway ran straight down without any
break to the water's edge. There was no sign of a bridge,
and a black shadow in the centre of the stream showed
where the ferry-boat was returning after conveying some
belated travellers across. The driver never hesitated, but
gathering up the reins, he urged the frightened creatures
into the river. They hesitated, however, when they first
felt the cold water about their hocks, and even as they did
so one of them, with a low moan, fell over upon her side.
Despard's bullet had found its mark. Like a flash the
coachman hurled himself from the box and plunged into the
stream ; but the pursuing horsemen were all round him be-
fore this, and half a dozen hands had seized him ere he could
reach deep water, and had dragged him to the bank. His
broad hat had been struck off in the struggle, and De Catinat
saw his face in the moonshine. Great heavens ! It was
Amos Green.

'59

CHAPTER XVII.
THE DUNGEON OF PORTILLAC.

THE desperadoes were as much astonished as was De
Catinat when they found that they had recaptured in this
extraordinary manner the messenger whom they had given
up for lost A volley of oaths and exclamations broke from
them, as, on tearing off the huge red coat of the coachman,
they disclosed the sombre dress of the young American.

"A thousand thunders ! " cried one. "And this is the man
whom that devil's brat Latour would make out to be dead ! '

" And how came he here ? '

" And where is Etienne Arnaud ? ':

" He has stabbed Etienne. See the great cut in the coat!"

" Ay ; and see the colour of his hand ! He has stabbed
him, and taken his coat and hat."

" What ! while we were all within stone's cast ! '

" Ay ; there is no other way out of it."

" By my soul ! " cried old Despard, " I had never much love
for old Etienne, but I have emptied a cup of wine with him be-
fore now, and I shall see that he has justice. Let us cast these
reins round the fellow's neck and hang him upon this tree.'

Several pairs of hands were already unbuckling the
harness of the dead horse, when De Vivonne pushed his
way into the little group, and with a few curt words
checked their intended violence.

" It is as much as your lives are worth to touch him,'
said he.

" But he has slain Etienne Arnaud."

"That score may be settled afterwards. To-night he N
the king's messenger. . Is the other all safe ?

160 THE REFUGEES.

" Yes, he is here."

"Tie this man, and put him in beside him. Unbuckle
the traces of the dead horse. So ! Now, De Carnac, put
your own into the harness. You can mount the box and
drive, for we have not very far to go."

The changes were rapidly made ; Amos Green was thrust
in beside De Catinat, and the carriage was soon toiling
up the steep incline which it had come down so pre-
cipitately. The American had said not a word since his
capture, and had remained absolutely stolid, with his hands
crossed over his chest whilst his fate was under discussion.
Now that he was alone once more with his comrade, how-
ever, he frowned and muttered like a man who feels that
fortune has used him badly.

"Those infernal horses!' he grumbled. "Why, an
American horse would have taken to the water like a duck.
Many a time have I swum my old stallion Sagamore across
the Hudson. Once over the river, we should have had a
clear lead to Paris."

" My dear friend," cried De Catinat, laying his manacled
hands upon those of his comrade, " can you forgive me for
speaking as I did upon the way from Versailles ? '

" Tut, man ! I never gave it a thought."

"You were right a thousand times, and I was, as you
said, a fool — a blind, obstinate fool. How nobly you have
stood by me ! But how came you there ? Never in my
life have I been so astonished as when I saw your face."

Amos Green chuckled to himself. " I thought that maybe
it would be a surprise to you if you knew who was driving
you," said he. " When I was thrown from my horse I lay
quiet, partly because I wanted to get a grip of my breath,
and partly because it seemed to me to be more healthy to lie
than to stand with all those swords clinking in my ears.
Then they all got round you, and I rolled into the ditch,
crept along it, got on the cross-road in the shadow of the.

THE DUNGEON OF PORTILLAC. 161

trees, and was beside the carriage before ever they knew that
I was gone. I saw in a flash that there was only one way
by which I could be of use to you. The coachman was
leaning round with his head turned to see what was going
on behind him. I out with my knife, sprang up on the
front wheel and stopped his tongue forever."

" What ! without a sound ! "

" I have not lived among the Indians for nothing."

"And then?"

" I pulled him down into the ditch, and I got into his coat
and his hat. I did not scalp him."

" Scalp him ? Great heavens ! Such things are only
done among savages."

" Ah ! I thought that maybe it was not the custom of the
country. I am glad now that I did not do it. I had hardly
got the reins before they were all back and bundled you into the
coach. I was not afraid of their seeing me, but I was scared
lest I should not know which road to take, and so set them on
the trail. But they made it easy to me by sending some of
their riders in front, so I did well until I saw that by-track
and made a run for it. We'd have got away, too, if that rogue
hadn't shot the horse, and if the beasts had faced the water."

The guardsman again pressed his comrade's hands.
" You have been as true to me as hilt to blade," said he.

" It was a bold thought and a bold deed."

" And what now ? ' asked the American.

" I do not know who these men are, and I do not know
whither they are taking us."

" To their villages, likely, to burn us."

De Catinat laughed in spite of his anxiety. "You will
have it that we are back in America again," said he. " They
don't do things in that wayin France."

"They seem free enough with hanging in France. I tell
you, I felt like a smoked-out 'coon when that trace was
round my necl:."

1 52 THE REFUGEES.

11 1 fancy that they are taking us to some place where
they can shut us up until this business blows over."

"Well, they'll need to be smart about it."

"Why?"

" Else maybe they won't find us when they want us."

" What do you mean ? '

For answer, the American, with a twist and a wriggle,
drew his two hands apart, and held them in front of his
comrade's face.

"Bless you, it is the first thing they teach the papooses in
an Indian -wigwam. I've got out of a Huron's thongs of raw
hide before now, and it ain't very likely that a stiffstirrup leather
will hold me. Put your hands out/' With a few dexterous
twists he loosened De Catinat's bonds, until he also was able
to slip his hands free. " Now for your feet, if you'll put them
up. They'll find that we are easier to catch than to hold."

But at that moment the carriage began to slow down,
and the clank of the hoofs of the riders in front of them died
suddenly away. Peeping through the windows, the prisoners
saw a huge dark building stretching in front of them, so
high and so broad that the night shrouded it in upon every
side. A great archway hung above them, and the lamps
shone on the rude wooden gate, studded with ponderous
clamps and nails. In the upper part of the door was a
small square iron grating, and through this they could
catch a glimpse of the gleam of a lantern and of a bearded
face which looked out at them. De Vivonne, standing in
his stirrups, craned his head up towards the grating, so that
the two men most interested could hear little of the conver-
sation which followed. They saw only that the horseman
held a gold ring up in the air, and that the face above,
which had begun by shaking and frowning, was now nodding
and smiling. An instant later the head disappeared, the
door swung open upon screaming hinges, and the carriage
drove on into the court-yard beyond, leaving the escort, with

ThE DUNGEON OF PORT ILL AC. 163

the exception of De Vivonne, outside. As the horses pulled
up, a knot of rough fellows clustered round, and the two
prisoners were dragged roughly out. In the light of the
torches which flared around them they could see that they
were hemmed in by high turreted walls upon every side. A
bulky man with a bearded face, the same whom they had
seen at the grating, was standing in the centre of the group
of armed men issuing his orders.

" To the upper dungeon, Simon ! ' he cried. " And see
that they have two bundles of straw and a loaf of bread until
we learn our master's will."

" I know not who your master may be," said De Catinat,
" but I would ask you by what warrant he dares to stop two
messengers of the king while travelling in his service ? '

" By St. Denis, if my master play the king a trick, it will
be but tie and tie," the stout man answered, with a grin.
"But no more talk! Away with them, Simon, and you
answer to me for their safe-keeping."

It was in vain that De Catinat raved and threatened, in-
voking the most terrible menaces upon all who were con-
cerned in detaining him. Two stout knaves thrusting him
from behind and one dragging in front forced him through a
narrow gate and along a stone-flagged passage, a small man in
black buckram with a bunch of keys in one hand and a swing-
ing lantern in the other leading the way. Their ankles had
been so tied that they could but take steps of a foot in length.
Shuffling along, they made their way down three successive
corridors and through three doors, each of which was locked
and barred behind them. Then they ascended a winding
stone stair, hollowed out in the centre by the feet of genera-
tions of prisoners and of jailers, and finally they were thrust
into a small square dungeon, and two trusses of straw were
thrown in after them. An instant later a heavy key turned
in the lock, and they were left to their own meditations.

Very grim and dark those meditations were in the case of

12

164

De Catinat. A stroke of good luck had made him at court,
and now this other of ill fortune had destroyed him. It
would be in vain that he should plead his own powerlessness.
He knew his royal master well. He was a man who was
munificent when his orders were obeyed, and inexorable
when they miscarried. No excuse availed with him. An
unlucky man was as abhorrent to him as a negligent
one. In this great crisis the king had trusted him with an
all-important message, and that message had not been de-
livered. What could save him now from disgrace and from
ruin ? He cared nothing for the dim dungeon in which he
found himself, nor for the uncertain fate which hung over
his head, but his heart turned to lead when he thought of
his blasted career, and of the triumph of those whose jeal-
ousy had been aroused by his rapid promotion. There were
his people in Paris, too — his sweet Adele, his old uncle, who
had been as good as a father to him. What protector would
they have in their troubles now that he had lost the power
that might have shielded them ? How long would it be
before they were exposed once more to the brutalities of
Dalbert and his dragoons ? He clenched his teeth at the
thought, and threw himself down with a groan upon the
litter of straw dimly visible in the faint light which streamed
through the single window.

But his energetic comrade had yielded to no feeling of
despondency. The instant that the clang of the prison door
had assured him that he was safe from interruption he had
slipped off the bonds which held him and had felt all round
the walls and flooring to see what manner of place this
might be. His search had ended in the discovery of a
small fireplace at one corner, and of two great clumsy
billets of wood, which seemed to have been left there to
serve as pillows for the prisoners. Having satisfied himself
that the chimney was so small that it was utterly impossible
to pass even his head up it, he drew the two blocks of wood

DUNGEON OF PORflLLAC. 165

Over to the window, and was able, by placing one above the
other and standing on tiptoe on the highest, to reach the
bars which guarded it. Drawing himself up, and fixing one
toe in an inequality of the wall, he managed to look out on
to the court-yard which they had just quitted. The carriage
and De Vivonne were passing out through the gate as he
looked, and he heard a moment later the slam of the heavy
door and the clatter of hoofs from the troop of horsemen
outside. The seneschal and his retainers had disappeared ;
the torches, too, were gone, and, save for the measured
tread of a pair of sentinels in the yard twenty feet beneath
him, all was silent throughout the great castle.

And a very great castle it was. Even as he hung there
with straining hands his eyes were running in admiration
and amazement over the huge wall in front of him, with its
fringe of turrets and pinnacles and battlements all lying so
still and cold in the moonlight. Strange thoughts will slip
into a man's head at the most unlikely moments. He re-
membered suddenly a bright summer day over the water
when first he had come down from Albany, and how his
father had met him on the wharf by the Hudson, and had
taken him through the water-gate to see Peter Stuyvesant's
house, as a sign of how great this city was which had passed
from the Dutch to the English. Why, Peter Stuyvesant's
house and Peter Stuyvesant's Bowery villa put together
would not make one wing of this huge pile, which was itself
a mere dog-kennel beside the mighty palace at Versailles.
He would that his father were here now ; and then, on
second thoughts, he would not, for it came back to him that
he was a prisoner in a far land, and that his sight-seeing
was being done through the bars of a dungeon window

The window was large enough to pass his body through
if it were not for those bars. He shook them and hung his
weight upon them, but they were as thick as his thumb and
firmly welded. Then, getting some strong hold for his other

166 THE

foot, he supported himself by one hand while he picked with
his knife at the setting of the iron. It was cement, as
smooth as glass and as hard as marble. His knife turned
when he tried to loosen it. But there was still the stone.
It was sandstone, not so very hard. If he could cut grooves
in it, he might be able to draw out bars, cement, and all.
He sprang down to the floor again, and was thinking how
he should best set to work, when a groan drew his attention
to his companion.

"You seem sick, friend," said he.

" Sick in mind," moaned the other. " Oh, the cursed fool
that I have been ! It maddens me ! ""

" Something on your mind ? ': said Amos Green, sitting
down upon his billets of woocL -'What was it, then ? '

The guardsman made a movement of impatience. "What
was it ? How can you ask me, when you know as well as
I do the wretched failure of my mission. It was the king's
wish that the archbishop should marry them. The king's
wish is the law. It must be the archbishop or none. He
should have been at the palace by now. Ah, my God ! I
can see the king's cabinet, I can see him waiting, I can see
madame waiting, I can hear them speak of the unhappy De
Catinat - He buried his face in his hands once more.

"I see all that," said the American stolidly, "and I see
something more."

"What then ?"

" I see the archbishop tying them up together."

" The archbishop ! You are raving."

" Maybe. But I see him."

" He could not be at the palace."

" On the contrary, he reached the palace about half an
hour ago."

De Catinat sprang to his feet. " At the palace ! ': he
screamed. " Then who gave him the message ? '

" I did," said Amos Green.

167

CHAPTER XVIII.
A NIGHT OF SURPRISES.

IF the American had expected to surprise or delight his
companion by this curt announcement he was woefully
disappointed, for De Catinat approached him with a face
which was full of sympathy and trouble, and laid his hand
caressingly upon his shoulder.

" My dear friend," said he, " I have been selfish and
thoughtless. I have made too much of my own little
troubles and too little of what you have gone through for
me. That fall from your horse has shaken you more than
you think. Lie down upon this straw, and see if a little
sleep may not —

" I tell you that the bishop is there ! " cried Amos Green
impatiently.

"Quite so, There is water in this jug, and if I dip my
scarf into it and tie it round your brow -

" Man alive ! Don't you hear me ! The bishop is
there."

"He is, he is," said De Catinat soothingly. "He is
most certainly there. I trust that you have no pain ? '

The American waved in the air with his knotted fists.
"You think that I'm crazed," he cried, " and, by the eternal,
you are enough to make me so ! When I say that I sent
the bishop, I mean that I saw to the job. You remember
when I stepped back to your friend the major ? '

It was the soldier's turn to grow excited now. 'c Well ? '
he cried, gripping the other's arm.

" Well, when we send a scout into the woods, if the
matter is worth it, we send a second one at another hour,

1 68 THE REFUGEES.

and so one or other comes back with his hair on. That's
the Iroquois fashion, and a good fashion too."

" My God ! I believe that you have saved me ! '

"You needn't grip on to my arm like a fish-eagle on a
trout! I went back to the major, then, and I asked him
when he was in Paris to pass by the archbishop's door."

"Well? Well?"

" I showed him this lump of chalk. ' If we've been there,'
said I, 'you'll see a great cross on the left side of the door-
post. If there's no cross, then pull the latch and ask the
bishop if he'll come up to the palace as quick as his horses
can bring him.' The major started an hour after us ; he
would be in Paris by half past-ten ; the bishop would be in
his carriage by eleven, and he would reach Versailles half an
hour ago, that is to say, about half-past twelve. By the
Lord, I think I've driven him off his head ! '

It was no wonder that the young woodsman was alarmed
at the effect of his own announcement. His slow and steady
nature was incapable of the quick, violent variations of the
fiery Frenchman. De Catinat, who had thrown off his
bonds before he had lain down, spun round the cell now,
waving his arms and his legs, with his shadow capering up
the wall behind him, all distorted in the moonlight. Finally
he threw himself into his comrade's arms with a torrent of
thanks and ejaculations and praises and promises, patting
him with his hands and hugging him to his breast.

" Oh, if I could but do something for you ! " he exclaimed.
" If I could do something for you ! '

" You can, then. Lie down on that straw and go to sleep."

" And to think that I sneered at you ! I ! Oh, you have
had your revenge ! '

" For the Lord's sake, lie down and go to sleep ! ' By
persuasions and a little pushing he got his delighted com-
panion on to his couch again, and heaped the straw over
him to serve as a blanket. De Catinat was wearied out by

7

A NIGHT OF SURPRISES. 169

the excitements of the day, and this last great reaction seemed
to have absorbed all his remaining strength. His lids
drooped heavily over his eyes, his head sank deeper into the
soft straw, and his last remembrance was that the tireless
American was seated cross-legged in the moonlight, working
furiously with his long knife upon one of the billets of wood.

So weary was the young guardsman that it was long past
noon, and the sun was shining out of a cloudless blue sky,
before he awoke. For a moment, enveloped as he was in
straw, and with the rude arch of the dungeon meeting in
four rough-hewn groinings above his head, he stared about
him in bewilderment. Then in an instant the doings of the
day before, his mission, the ambuscade, his imprisonment,
all flashed back to him, and he sprang to his feet. His
comrade, who had been dozing in the corner, jumped up
also at the first movement, with his hand on his knife, and
a sinister glance directed towards the door.

"Oh, it's you, is it?" said he. " I thought it was the

man.'

" Has some one been in, then ? '

" Yes ; they brought those two loaves and a jug of water,
just about dawn, when I was settling down for a rest."

" And did he say anything ? '

" No ; it was the little black one."

" Simon, they called him."

"The same. He laid the things down and was gone,
thought that maybe if he came again we might get him to

'&

stop."

cc

How, then ? '

" Maybe if we got these stirrup leathers round his ankles
he would not get them off quite as easy as we have done.'

"And what then? "

"Well he would tell us where we are, and what is to be
done with us."

'-' Pshaw ! what does it matter, since our mission is done ?

170 THE REFUGEES.

" It may not matter to you — there's no accounting for
tastes — but it matters a good deal to me. I'm not used to
sitting in a hole, like a bear in a trap, waiting for what
other folks choose to do with me. It's new to me. I found
Paris a pretty close sort of place, but it's a prairie com-
pared to this. It don't suit a man of my habits, and I am
going to come out of it."

"There's no help but patience, my friend."
" I don't know that. I'd get more help out of a bar and a
few pegs." He opened his coat, and took out a short piece
of rusted iron, and three small thick pieces of wood, sharp-
ened at one end.

"Where did you get those, then ? '

"These are my night's work. The bar is the top one of
the grate. I had a job to loosen it, but there it is. The
pegs I whittled out of that log."
" And what are they for ? '

"Well, you see, peg number one goes in here, where I
have picked a hole between the stones. Then I've made
this other log into a mallet, and with two cracks there it is
firm fixed, so that you can put your weight on it. Now
these two go in the same way into the holes above here. So!
Now, you see, you can stand up there and look out of that
window without asking too much of your toe joint;. Try it,"
De Catinat sprang up and looked eagerly out between the
bars.

" I do not know the place," said he, shaking his head
" It may be any one of thirty castles which lie upon the
south side of Paris, and within six or seven leagues of it.
Which can it be ? And who has any interest in treating us
so ? I would that I could see a coat of arms, which might
help us. Ah ! there is one yonder in the centre of the
mullion of the window. But I can scarce read it at the
distance. I warrant that your eyes are better than mine,
Amos, and that you can read what is on yonder escutcheon/'

A NIGHT OF SURPRISES. 171

"On what? "

" On the stone slab in the centre window."

" Yes, I see it plain enough. It looks to me like three
turkey-buzzards sitting on a barrel of molasses.'1

"Three allurions in chief over a tower proper, maybe.
Those are the arms of the Provence De Hautevilles. But
it cannot be that. They have no chateau within a hundred
leagues. No, I cannot tell where we are.1'

He was dropping back to the floor, and put his weight
upon the bar. To his amazement, it came away in his
hand.

" Look, Amos, look ! '; he cried.

"Ah, you've found it out! Well, I did that during the
night."

"And how? With your knife ?"

" No ; I could make no way with my knife ; but when
[ got the bar out of the grate, I managed faster. I'll put
this one back now, or some of those folks down below may
notice that we have got it loose."

" Are they all loose ? '

" Only the one at present, but we'll get the other two out
during the night. You can take that bar out and work with
it, while I use my own picker at the other. You see, the
stone is soft, and by grinding it you soon make a groove
along which you can slip the bar. It will be mighty queer
if we can't clear a road for ourselves before morning.'

"Well, but even if we could get out into the court-yard,
where could we turn to then ? '

"One thing at a time, friend. You might as well stick
at the Kennebec because you could not see how you would
cross the Penobscot. Anyway, there is more air in the yard
than in here, and when the window is clear we shall soon
plan out the rest."

The two comrades did not dare to do any work during
the day, for fear they should be surprised by the jailer, or

172 THE REFUGEES.

observed from without. No one came near them, but they
ate their loaves and drank their water with the appetite of
men who had often known what it was to be without even
such simple food as that. The instant that night fell they
were both up upon the pegs, grinding away at the hard
stone and tugging at the bars. It was a rainy night, and
there was a sharp thunder-storm, but they could see very
well, while the shadow of the arched window prevented their
being seen. Before midnight they had loosened one bar,
and the other was just beginning to give, when some slight
noise made them turn their heads, and there was their jailer
standing, open-mouthed, in the middle of the cell, staring
up at them.

It was De Catinat who observed him first, and he sprang
down at him in an instant with his bar ; but at his movement
the man rushed for the door, and drew it after him just as the
American's tool whizzed past his ear and down the passage.
As the door slammed, the two comrades looked at each
other. The guardsman shrugged his shoulders and the
other whistled.

" It is scarce worth while to go on," said De Catinat.

" We may as well be doing that as anything else. If my
picker had been an inch lower I'd have had him. Well, may-
be he'll get a stroke, or break his neck down those stairs. I've
nothing to work with now, but a few rubs with your bar will
finish the job. Ah, dear ! You are right, and we are fairly treed !"

A great bell had begu.i to ring in the chateau, and there
was a loud buzz of voices and a clatter of feet upon the
stones. Hoarse orders were shouted, and there was the
sound of turning keys. All this coming suddenly in the
midst of the stillness of the night showed only too certainly
that the alarm had been given. Amos Green threw himself
down in the straw, with his hands in his pockets, and De
Catinat leaned sulkily against the wall, waiting for whatever
might come to him. Five minutes passed, however, and

A NiCHT OF SURPRISES. 173

yet another five minutes, without anyone appearing. The
hubbub in the court-yard continued, but there was no sound
in the corridor which led to their cell.

" Well, I'll have that bar out, after all," said the American
at last, rising and stepping over to the window. " Anyhow,
we'll see what all this caterwauling is about." He climbed
up on his pegs as he spoke, and peeped out.

" Come up! '' he cried excitedly to his comrade. "They've
got some other game going on here, and they are all a deal
too busy to bother their heads about us."

De Catinat clambered up beside him, and the two stood
staring down into the court-yard. A brazier had been lit at
each corner, and the place was thronged with men, many of
whom carried torches. The yellow glare played fitfully over
the grim gray walls, flickering up sometimes until the highest
turrets shone golden against the black sky, and then, as the
wind caught them, dying away until they scarce threw a glow
upon the cheek of their bearer. The main gate was open,
and a carriage, which had apparently just driven in, was
standing at a small door immediately in front of their win-
dow. The wheels and sides were brown with mud, and the
two horses were reeking and heavy-headed, as though their
journey had been both swift and long. A man wearing a
plumed hat and enveloped in a riding-coat had stepped from
the carriage, and then, turning round, had dragged a second
person out after him. There was a scuffle, a cry, a push, and
the two figures had vanished through the door. As it closed,
the carriage drove away, the torches and braziers were ex-
tinguished, the main gate was closed once more, and all was
as quiet as before this sudden interruption.

" Well ! ' gasped De Catinat. " Is this another king's
messenger they've got ? '

"There will be lodgings for two more here in a short
time," said Amos Green. " If they only leave us alone,
this cell won't hold us long.'"'

174 THE REFUGEES.

" I wonder where that jailer has gone ? "

" He may go where he likes, as long as he keeps away
from here. Give me your bar again. This thing is giving.
It won't take us long to have it out.'' He set to work furi-
ously, trying to deepen the groove in the stone, through
which he hoped to drag the staple. Suddenly he ceased,
and strained his ears.

"By thunder!' said he, "there's some one working on
the other side."

They both stood listening. There were the thud of
hammers, the rasping of a saw, and the clatter of wood from
the other side of the wall.

" What can they be doing ? '

" I can't think."

" Can you see them ?

" They are too near the wall."

" I think I can manage," said De Catinat. "I am slighter
than you." He pushed his head and neck and half of one
shoulder through the gap between the bars, and there he
remained until his friend thought that perhaps he had stuck,
and pulled at his legs to extricate him. He writhed back,
however, without any difficulty

" They are building something,'' he whispered.

"Building!"

" Yes ; there are four of them, with a lantern."

" What can they be building, then ? '

" It's a shed, I think. I can see four sockets in the
ground, and they are fixing four uprights into them."

" Well, we can't get away as long as there are four men
just under our window."

" Impossible."

" But we may as well finish our work, for all that."

The gentle scrapings of his iron were drowned amid the
noise which swelled ever louder from without. The bar
loosened at the end, and he drew it slowly towards him, At

A NIGHT OF SURPRISES. 175

that instant, however, just as he was disengaging it, a round
head appeared between him and the moonlight, a head with
a great shock of tangled hair and a woollen cap upon the
top of it. So astonished was Amos Green at the sudden
apparition that he let go his grip upon the bar, which,
falling outwards, toppled over the edge of the window-sill.

"You great fool!' shrieked a voice from below, " are
your fingers ever to be thumbs, then, that you should fumble
your tools so ? A thousand thunders of heaven ! You have
broken my shoulder."

" What is it, then ? ' cried the other. " My faith, Pierre,
if your fingers went as fast as your tongue, you would be the
first joiner in France."

; What is it, you ape ! You have dropped your tool upon me.'
I ! I have dropped nothing."

Idiot ! Would you have me believe that iron falls from
the sky ? I say that you have struck me, you foolish, clumsy-
fingered lout."

" I have not struck you yet," cried the other, " but, by the
Virgin, if I have more of this I will come down the ladder to
you ! "

" Silence, you good-for-naughts ! ' said a third voice
sternly. " If the work be not done by daybreak, there will
be a heavy reckoning for somebody."

And again the steady hammering and sawing went for-
ward. The head still passed and repassed, its owner walk-
ing apparently upon some platform which they had con-
structed beneath their window, but never giving a glance or a
thought to the black square opening beside him. It was early
morning, and the first cold light was beginning to steal over
the court-yard, before the work was at last finished and the
workmen had left. Then at last the prisoners dared to climb
up and to see what it was which had been constructed during
the night. It gave them a catch of the breath as they looked
at it. It was a scaffold.

u

u

THE REFUGEES.

There it lay, the ill-omened platform of dark greasy boards
newly fastened together, but evidently used often before for
the same purpose. It was buttressed up against their wall,
and extended a clear twenty feet out, with a broad wrooden
stair leading down from the further side. In the centre
stood a headsman's block, all haggled at the top, and smeared
with rust-coloured stains.

" I think it is time that we left," said Amos Green.

" Our work is all in vain, Amos," said De Catinat sadly,
" Whatever our fate may be — and this looks ill enough-
we can but submit to it like brave men."

" Tut, man ; the window is clear ! Let us make a rush
for it."

" It is useless, I can see a line of armed men along thg
further side of the yard."

" A line ! At this hour ! '

"Yes; and here come more. See, at the centre gate)
Now what in the name of heaven is this ? '

As he spoke the door which faced them opened, and a
singular procession filed out. First came two dozen foot-
men, walking in pairs, all carrying halberds, and clad in the
same maroon-coloured liveries. After them a huge bearded
man, with his tunic off, and the sleeves of his coarse shirt
rolled up over his elbows, strode along with a great axe over
his left shoulder. Behind him, a priest with an open missal
pattered forth prayers, and in his shadow was a woman,
clad in black, her neck bared, and a black shawl cast over
her head and drooping in front of her bowed face. Within
grip of her walked a tall, thin, fierce-faced man, with harsh
red features, and a great jutting nose. He wore a flat velvet
cap with a single eagle feather fastened into it by a diamond
clasp, which gleamed in the morning light. But bright as
was his gem, his dark eyes were brighter still, and sparkled
from under his bushy brows with a mad brilliancy which
bore with it something of menace and of terror. His limbs

A NtGtiT OF SURPRISES.

jerked as h<2 walked, his features twisted, and he carried
himself like a man who strives hard to hold himself in when
his whole soul is aflame with exultation. Behind him again
twelve more maroon-clad retainers brought up the rear of
this singular procession.

The woman had faltered at the foot of the scaffold, but
the man behind her had thrust her forward with such force
that she stumbled over the lower step, and would have
fallen had she not clutched at the arm of the priest. At the
top of the ladder her eyes met the dreadful block, and she
burst into a scream, and shrunk backwards. But again the
man thrust her on, and two of the followers caught her by
either wrist and dragged her forwards.

" Oh, Maurice ! Maurice ! ' she screamed. " I am not fit
to die ! Oh, forgive me, Maurice, as you hope for forgive-
ness yourself ! Maurice ! Maurice ! ' She strove to get
towards him, to clutch at his wrist, at his sleeve, but he
stood with his hand on his sword, gazing at her with a face
which was all wreathed and contorted with merriment. At
tne sight of that dreadful mocking face the prayers froze
upon her lips. As well pray for mercy to the dropping stone
or to the rushing stream. She turned away, and threw
back the mantle which had shrouded her features.

"Ah, sire!' she cried. "Sire! If you could see me
now ! '

And at the cry and at the sight of that fair pale face, De
Catinat, looking down from the window, was stricken as
though by a dagger ; for there standing beside the heads-
man's block was she who had been the most powerful, as
well as the wittiest and the fairest, of the women of France
-none other than Fran9oise de Montespan, so lately the
favourite of the king.

T78

CHAPTER XIX
IN THE KING'S CABINETo

ON the night upon which such strange chances had befallen
his messengers, the king sat alone in his cabinet. Over his
head a perfumed lamp, held up by four little flying Cupids
of crystal, who dangled by golden chains from the painted
ceiling, cast a brilliant light upon the chamber, which was
flashed back twenty-fold by the mirrors upon the wall The
ebony and silver furniture, the dainty carpet of La Savon-
niere, the silks of Tours, the tapestries of the Gobelins, the
goldwork and the delicate chinaware of Sevres — the best of
all that France could produce was centred between these
four walls. Nothing had ever passed through that door
which was not a masterpiece of its kind. And amid all this
brilliance the master of it sat, his chin resting upon his
hands, his elbows upon the table, with eyes which stared
vacantly at the wall, a moody and a solemn man.

But though his dark eyes were fixed upon the wall, they
saw nothing of it. They looked rather down the long vista
of his own life, away to those early years when what we
dream and what we do shade so mistily into one another*
Was it a dream or was it a fact, those two men who used to
stoop over his baby crib, the one with the dark coat and the
star upon his breast, whom he had been taught to call
father, and the other one with the long red gown and the
little twinkling eyes ? Even now, after more than forty
years, that wicked, astute, powerful face flashed up, and he
saw once more old Richelieu, the great unanointed king
of France. And then the other cardinal, the long lean one
who had taken his pocket-money, and had grudged him his

IN THE KING'S CABINET.

food, and had dressed him in old clothes. How well he
could recall the day when Mazarin had rouged himself for
the last time, and how the court had danced with joy at the
news that he was no more ! And his mother, too, how
beautiful she was, and how masterful ! Could he not re-
member how bravely she had borne herself during that war
in which the power of the great nobles had been broken, and
how she had at last lain down to die, imploring the priests
not to stain her cap-strings with their holy oils ! And then
he thought of what he had done himself, how he had shorn
down his great subjects until, instead of being like a tree
among saplings, he had been alone, far above all others,
with his shadow covering the whole land. Then there were
his wars and his laws and his treaties. Under his care
France had overflowed her frontiers both on the north and
on the east, and yet had been so welded together internally
that she had but one voice, with which she spoke through
him. And then there was that line of beautiful faces which
wavered up in front of him. There was Olympe de Man-
cini, whose Italian eyes had first taught him that there is a
power which can rule over a king ; her sister, too, Marie de
Mancini ; his wife, with her dark little sun-browned face ;
Henrietta of England, whose death had first shown him the
horrors which lie in life; La Valliere, Montespan, Fontanges.
Some were dead ; some were in convents. Some who had
been wicked and beautiful were now only wicked. And
what had been the outcome of all this troubled, striving life
of his ? He was already at the outer verge of his middle
years ; he had lost his taste for the pleasures of his youth ;
gout and vertigo were ever at his foot and at his head to
remind him that between them lay a kingdom which he
could not hope to govern. And after all these years he had
not won a single true friend, not one, in his family, in his
court, in his country, save only this woman whom he was
to wed that night. And she, how patient she was, how

l8o THE REFUGEES.

good, how lofty ! With her he might hope to wipe off by
the true glory of his remaining years all the sin and the folly
of the past. Would that the archbishop might come, that he
might feel that she was indeed his, that he held her with
hooks of steel which would bind them as long as life should
last!

There came a tap at the door. He sprang up eagerly,
thinking that the ecclesiastic might have arrived. It was,
however, only his personal attendant, to say that Louvois
would crave an interview. Close at his heels came the
minister himself, high-nosed and heavy-chinned. Two leather
bags were dangling from his hand.

" Sire," said he, when Bontems had retired, " I trust that
I do not intrude upon you."

" No, no, Louvois. My thoughts were in truth beginning
to be very indifferent company, and I am glad to be rid of
them."

" Your Majesty's thoughts can never, I am sure, be any-
thing but pleasant,'1 said the courtier. " But I have brought
you here something which I trust may make them even

more so.'

" Ah ! What is that ? '

" When so many of our young nobles went into Germany
and Hungary, you were pleased in your wisdom to say that
you would like well to see what reports they sent home to
their friends ; also what news was sent out from the court
to them."

"Yes."

" I have them here — all that the courier has brought in,
and all that are gathered to go out, each in its own bag.
The wax has been softened in spirit, the fastenings have
been steamed, and they are now open.'1

The king took out a handful of the letters and glanced at
the addresses.

" I should indeed like to read the hearts of these people," said

IN THE KING'S CABINET. 181

he. " Thus only can I tell the true thoughts of those who bow
and simper before my face. I suppose," with a sudden flash
of suspicion from his eyes, "that you have not yourself
looked into these ? '

" Oh, sire, I had rather die ! '

" You swear it ? '

" As I hope for salvation ! '

" Hum ! There is one among these which I see is from
your own son."

Louvois changed colour, and stammered as he looked at
the envelope. " Your Majesty will find that he is as loyal
out of your presence as in it, else he is no son of mine,"
said he.

"Then we shall begin with his. Ha! it is but ten lines
long. 'Dearest Achille, how I long for you to come back!
The court is as dull as a cloister now that you are gone.
My ridiculous father still struts about like a turkey-cock, as
if all his medals and crosses could cover the fact that he is
but a head lackey, with no more real power than I have.
He wheedles a good deal out of the king, but what he does
with it I cannot imagine, for little comes my way. I still
owe those ten thousand livres to the man in the Rue Orfevre.
Unless I have some luck at lansquenet, I shall have to come
out soon and join you.' Hem ! I did you an injustice,
Louvois. I see that you have not looked over these letters."

The minister had sat with a face which was the colour
of beetroot, and eyes which projected from his head, while
this epistle was being read. It was with relief that he came
to the end of it, for at least there was nothing which com-
promised him seriously with the king ; but every nerve in
his great body tingled with rage as he thought of the way
in which his young scapegrace had alluded to him. " The
viper ! ' he cried. " Oh, the foul snake in the grass ! I will
make him curse the day that he was born."

"Tut, tut, Louvois!' said the king. "You are a man

1 82 THE REFUGEES.

who has seen much of life, and you should be a philosopher.
Hot-headed youth says ever more than it means. Think no
more of the matter. But what have we here ? A letter
from my dearest girl to her husband, the Prince de Conti.
I would pick her writing out of a thousand. Ah, dear soul,
she little thought that my eyes would see her artless prattle !
Why should I read it, since I already know every thought
of her innocent heart ? ' He unfolded the sheet of pink
scented paper with a fond smile upon his face, but it faded
away as his eyes glanced down the page, and he sprang to
his feet with a snarl of anger, his hand over his heart and
his eyes still glued to the paper. " Minx! ' he cried, in a
choking voice. " Impertinent, heartless minx ! Louvois,
you know what I have done for the princess. You know
she has been the apple of my eye. What have I ever
grudged her ? What have I ever denied her ? '

" You have been goodness itself, sire," said Louvois,
whose own wounds smarted less now that he saw his
master writhing.

"Hear what she says of me: 'Old Father Grumpy is
much as usual, save that he gives a little at the knees.
You remember how we used to laugh at his airs and graces !
Well, he has given up all that, and though he stills struts
about on great high heels, like a Landes peasant on his
stilts, he has no brightness at all in his clothes. Of course,
all the court follow his example, so you can imagine what
a nightmare-place this is. Then this woman still keeps in
favour, and her frocks are as dismal as Grumpy's coats ; so
when you come back we shall go into the country together,
and you shall dress in red velvet, and I shall wear blue silk,
and we shall have a little coloured court of our own in spite
of my majestic papa.'

Louis sank his face in his hands.

"You hear how she speaks of me, Louvois."

" It is infamous, sire ; infamous ! '

IN THE KING'S CABINET. 183

':

u She calls me names — me, Louvois !

" Atrocious, sire."

"And my knees! one would think that I was an old
man ! "

" Scandalous. But, sire, I would beg to say that it is a
case in which your Majesty's philosophy may well soften
your anger. Youth is ever hot-headed, and says more than
it means. Think no more of the matter."

" You speak like a fool, Louvois. The child that I have
loved turns upon me, and you ask me to think no more of
it. Ah, it is one more lesson that a king can trust least of
all those who have his own blood in their veins. What
writing is this ? It is the good Cardinal de Bouillon. One
may not have faith in one's own kin, but this sainted man
loves me, not only because I have placed him where he is,
but because it is his nature to look up to and love those
whom God has placed above him. I will read you his
letter, Louvois, to show you that there is still such a thing
as loyalty and gratitude in France. ' My dear Prince de la
Roche-sur-Yon.' Ah, it is to him he writes. ' I promised
when you left that I would let you know from time to time
how things were going at court, as you consulted me about
bringing your daughter up from Anjou, in the hope that she
might catch the king's fancy.' What ! Wrhat ! Louvois !
What villainy is this ? ' The sultan goes from bad to worse.
The Fontanges was at least the prettiest woman in France,
though between ourselves there was just a shade too much
of the red in her hair — an excellent colour in a cardinal's
gown, my dear duke, but nothing brighter than chestnut is
permissible in a lady. The Montespan, too, was a fine
woman in her day, but fancy his picking up now with a
widow who is older than himself, a woman, too, who does
not even try to make herself attractive, but kneels at her
prie-dicu or works at fier tapestry from morning to night.
They say that December and May make a bad match, but

I&j. THE REFUGEES.

my own opinion is that two Novembers make an even
worse one.' Louvois ! Louvois ! I can read no more !
Have you a lettre de cachet ? '

" There is one here, sire."

"For the Bastille? "

" No ; for Vincennes."

" That will do very well. Fill it up, Louvois ! Put this
villain's name in it ! Let him be arrested to-night, and taken
there in his own caleche. The shameless, ungrateful, foul-
mouthed villain ! Why did you bring me these letters,
Louvois ? Oh, why did you yield to my foolish whim ?
My God, is there no truth, or honour, or loyalty in the
world! " He stamped his feet, and shook his clenched hands
in the air in the frenzy of his anger and disappointment.

"Shall I, then, put back the others?" asked Louvois
eagerly. He had been on thorns since the king had begun
to read them, not knowing what disclosures might come
next.

" Put them back, but keep the bag.''

" Both bags ? "

" Ah ! I had forgot the other one. Perhaps if I have
hypocrites around me, I have at least some honest subjects
at a distance. Let us take one haphazard. Who is this
from ? Ah ! it is from the Due de la Rochefoucauld. He
has ever seemed to be a modest and dutiful young man.
What has he to say ? The Danube — Belgrade — the grand
vizier — Ah ! " He gave a cry as if he had been stabbed.

"What, then, sire?" The minister had taken a step
forward, for he was frightened by the expression upon the
king's face.

"Take them away, Louvois! Take them away!' he
cried, pushing the pile of papers away from him. " I would
that I had never seen them ! I will look at them no more !
He gibes even at my courage, I who was in the trenches
when he was in his cradle ! * This war would not suit the

THE KING^S CABINET. 185

king,' he says. ' For there are battles, and none of the nice
little safe sieges which are so dear to him.' By God, he
shall pay to me with his head for that jest ! Ay, Louvois, it
will be a dear gibe to him. But take them away. I have
seen as much as I can bear."

The minister was thrusting them back into the bag when
suddenly his eye caught the bold, clear writing of Madame
de Maintenon upon one of the letters. Some demon whis-
pered to him that here was a weapon which had been placed
in his hands, with which he might strike one whose very
name filled him with jealousy and hatred. Had she been
guilty of some indiscretion in this note, then he might even
now, at this last hour, turn the king's heart against her.
He was an astute man, and in an instant he had seen his
chance and grasped it.

"Ha!" said he, "it was hardly necessary to open this

one."

" Which, Louvois ? Whose is it ? '

The minister pushed forward the letter, and Louis started
as his eyes fell upon it.

" Madame's writing! " he gasped.

" Yes ; it is to her nephew in Germany."

Louis took it in his hand. Then, with a sudden motion,
he threw it down among the others, and then yet again his
hand stole towards it. His face was gray and haggard, and
beads of moisture had broken out upon his brow. If this
too were to prove to be as the others ! He was shaken to
the soul at the very thought. Twice he tried to pluck it
out, and twice his trembling fingers fumbled with the paper.
Then he tossed it over to Louvois. " Read it to me," said

he.

The minister opened the letter out and flattened it upon
the table, with a malicious light dancing in his eyes, which
might have cost him his position had the king but read it
aright.

i86 THE REFUGEES.

" ' My dear nephew,' he read, " l what you ask me in
your last is absolutely impossible. I have never abused the
king's favour so far as to ask for any profit for myself, and
I should be equally sorry to solicit any advance for my re-
latives. No one would rejoice more than I to see you rise
to be major in your regiment, but your valour and your
loyalty must be the cause, and you must not hope to do it
through any word of mine. To serve such a man as the
king is its own reward, and I am sure that whether you
remain a cornet or rise to some higher rank, you will be
equally zealous in his cause. He is surrounded, unhappily,
by many base parasites. Some of these are mere fools, like
Lauzun ; others are knaves, like the late Fouquet ; and
some seem to be both fools and knaves, like Louvois, the
minister of war.' Here the reader choked with rage, and
sat gurgling and drumming his fingers upon the table.

" Go on, Louvois, go on," said Louis, smiling up at the
ceiling.

" 'These are the clouds which surround the sun, my dear
nephew ; but the sun is, believe me, shining brightly behind
them. For years I have known that noble nature as fe\\
others can know it, and I can tell you that his virtues are
his own, but that if ever his glory is for an instant dimmed
over, it is because his kindness of heart has allowed him to
be swayed by those who are about him. We hope soon to
see you back at Versailles, staggering under the weight of
your laurels. Meanwhile accept my love and every wish
for your speedy promotion, although it cannot be obtained
in the way which you suggest.'

"Ah,'' cried the king, his love shining in his eyes, "how
could I for an instant doubt her! And yet I had been so
shaken by the others ! Fran9oise is as true as steel. Was
it not a beautiful letter, Louvois ? '

" Madame is a very clever woman," said the minister
evasively.

u

1C

IN THE KING'S CABINET. I £7

" And such a reader of hearts ! Has she not seen my
character aright ? '

"At least she has not read mine, sire."

There was a tap at the door, and Bontems peeped in.
The archbishop has arrived, sire."

Very well, Bontems. Ask madame to be so good as to
step this way. And order the witnesses to assemble in the
anteroom."

As the valet hastened away, Louis turned to his minister:
" I wish you to be one of the witnesses, Louvois."

" To what, sire ? '

" To my marriage."

The minister started. " What, sire ! Already ? :

" Now, Louvois ; within five minutes."

"Very good, sire." The unhappy courtier strove hard to
assume a more festive manner ; but the night had been full
of vexation to him, and to be condemned to assist in making
this woman the king's wife was the most bitter drop of all.

" Put these letters away, Louvois. The last one has
made up for all the rest. But these rascals shall smart for
it, all the same. By-the-way, there is that young nephew
to whom madame wrote. Gerard d'Aubigny is his name,
is it not ? "

" Yes, sire."

" Make him out a colonel's commission, and give him
the next vacancy, Louvois."

" A colonel, sire ! Why, he is not yet twenty."

" Ay, Louvois. Pray, am I the chief of the army, or
are you ? Take care, Louvois ! I have warned you once
before. I tell you, man, that if I choose to promote one of
my jack-boots to be the head of a brigade, you shall not
hesitate to make out the papers. Now go into the ante-
room, and wait with the other witnesses until you are
wanted."

There had meanwhile been busy goings-on in the small

1 88 THE REFUGEES.

room where the red lamp burned in front of the Virgin.
Fran9oise de Maintenon stood in the centre, a little flush of
excitement on her cheeks, and an unwonted light in her
placid gray eyes. She was clad in a dress of shining white
brocade, trimmed and slashed with silver serge, and fringed
at the throat and arms with costly point-lace. Three
women, grouped around her, rose and stooped and swayed,
putting a touch here and a touch there, gathering in, looping
up, and altering until all was to their taste.

"There!' said the head dressmaker, giving a final pat
to a rosette of gray silk ; " I think that will do, your
Majes — that is to say, madame."

The lady smiled at the adroit slip of the courtier dress-
maker.

"My tastes lean little towards dress," said she, "yet J
would fain look as he would wish me to look."

"Ah, it is easy to dress madame. Madame has a figure.
Madame has a carriage. What costume would not look
well with such a neck and waist and arm to set it off? But,
ah, madame, what are we to do when we have to make the
figure as well as the dress ? There was the Princess Char-
lotte Elizabeth. It was but yesterday that we cut her gown.
She was short, madame, but thick. Oh, it is incredible
how thick she was ! She uses more cloth than madame,
though she is two hand-breadths shorter. Ah, I am sure
that the good God never meant people to be as thick as that.
But then, of course, she is Bavarian and not French."

But madame was paying little heed to the gossip of the
dressmaker. Her eyes were fixed upon the statue in the
corner, and her lips were moving in prayer — prayer that she
might be worthy of this great destiny which had come so
suddenly upon her, a poor governess ; that she might walk
straight among the pitfalls which surrounded her upon
every side ; that this night's work might bring a blessing
upon France and upon the man whom she loved. There

TtiE KING'S CABINET.

Came a discreet tap at the door to break in upon her
prayer.

" It is Bontems, madame,'' said Mademoiselle Nanon.
" He says that the king is ready."

" Then we shall not keep him waiting. Come, made-
moiselle, and may God shed His blessing upon what we are
about to do ! "

The little party assembled in the king's anteroom, and
started from there to the private chapel. In front walked
the portly bishop, clad in a green vestment, puffed out with
the importance of the function, his missal in his hand, and
his fingers between the pages at the service de matrimoniis.
Beside him strode his almoner, and two little servitors of
the court in crimson cassocks bearing lighted torches. The
king and Madame de Maintenon walked side by side, she
quiet and composed, with gentle bearing and downcast
eyes, he with a flush on his dark cheeks, and a nervous, fur-
tive look in his eyes, like a man who knows that he is in the
midst of one of the great crises of his life. Behind them, in
solemn silence, followed a little group of chosen witnesses,
the lean, silent Pere La Chaise, Louvois, scowling heavily
at the bride, the Marquis de Charmarante, Bontems, and
Mademoiselle Nanon.

The torches shed a strong yellow light upon this small
band as they advanced slowly through the corridors and
salons which led to the chapel, and they threw a garish
glare upon the painted walls and ceilings, flashing back
from gold-work and from mirror, but leaving long trailing
shadows in the corners. The king glanced nervously at
these black recesses, and at the portraits of his ancestors
and relations which lined the walls. As he passed that of
his late queen, Maria Theresa, he started and gasped with
horror.

"My God!' he whispered; "she frowned and spat at
me ! "

ig6 THE REFUGEES.

Madame laid her cool hand upon her wrist. " It ?«
nothing, sire," she murmured, in her soothing voice. " It
was but the light flickering over the picture."

Her words had their usual effect upon him. The startled
look died away from his eyes, and taking her hand in his
he walked resolutely forwards. A minute later they were
before the altar, and the words were being read which should
bind them forever together. As they turned away again,
her new ring blazing upon her finger, there was a buzz of
congratulation around her. The king only said nothing, but
he looked at her, and she had no wish that he should say
more. She was still calm and pale, but the blood throbbed
in her temples. "You are Queen of France, now," it
seemed to be humming — " queen, queen, queen f '

But a sudden shadow had fallen across her, and a low
voice was in her ear. " Remember your promise to the
Church," it whispered. She started, and turned to see the
pale, eager face of the Jesuit beside her.

"Your hand has turned cold, Fran9oise," said Louis.
" Let us go, dearest. We have been too long in this dismal
church."

igr

CHAPTER XX.

THE TWO FRANCOISES.

MADAME DE MONTESPAN had retired to rest, easy in her
mind, after receiving the message from her brother. She
knew Louis as few others knew him, and she was well
aware of that obstinacy in trifles which was one of his
characteristics. If he had said that he would be married by
the archbishop, then the archbishop it must be ; to-night, at
least, there should be no marriage. To-morrow was a new
day, and if it did not shake the king's plans, then indeed she
must have lost her wit as well as her beauty.

She dressed herself with care in the morning, putting on
her powder, her little touch of rouge, her one patch near the
dimple of her cheek, her loose robe of violet velvet, and her
casconet of pearls with all the solicitude of a warrior who is
bracing on his arms for a life and death contest. No news
had come to her of the great event of the previous night,
although the court already rang with it, for her haughtiness
and her bitter tongue had left her without a friend or
intimate. She rose, therefore, in the best of spirits, with
her mind set on the one question as to how best she should
gain an audience with the king.

She was still in her boudoir putting the last touches to her
toilet when her page announced to her that the king was
waiting in her salon. Madame de Montespan could hardly
believe in such good fortune. She had racked her brain all
morning as to how she should win her way to him, and here
he was waiting for her. With a last glance at the mirror,
she hastened to meet him.

He was standing with his back turned, looking up at one

THE REFUGEES.

of Snyders's paintings, when she entered ; but as she closed
the door, he turned and took two steps towards her. She
had run forward with a pretty little cry of joy, her white
arms outstretched, and love shining on her face ; but he put
out his hand, gently and yet with decision, with a gesture
which checked her approach. Her hands dropped to her
side, her lip trembled, and she stood looking at him with
her grief and her fears all speaking loudly from her eyes.
There was a look upon his features which she had never
seen before, and already something was whispering at the
back of her soul that to-day at least his spirit was stronger
than her own.

" You are angry with me again," she cried.

He had come with every intention of beginning the inter-
view by telling her bluntly of his marriage ; but now, as he
looked upon her beauty and her love, he felt that it would
have been less brutal to strike her down at his feet. Let
some one else tell her, then. She would know soon enough.
Besides, the|re would be less chance then of a scene, which
was a thing abhorrent to his soul. His task was, in any
case, quite difficult enough. All this ran swiftly through his
mind, and she as swiftly read it off in the brown eyes which
gazed at her.

"You have something you came to say, and now you
have not the heart to say it. God bless the kindly heart
which checks the cruel tongue I '

" No, no, madame," said Louis ; " I would not be cruel.
I cannot forget that my life has been brightened and my
court made brilliant during all these years by your wit and
your beauty. But times change, madame, and I owe a duty
to the world which overrides my own personal inclinations.
For every reason I think that it is best that we should
arrange in the way which we discussed the other day, and
that you should withdraw yourself from the court"

" Withdraw, sire ! For how long ? '

THE TWO FRANCOISES. 193

u It must be a permanent withdrawal, madame."

She stood with clenched hands and a pale face staring at
him.

" I need not say that I shall make your retirement a happy
one as far as in me HeSc Your allowance shall be fixed by
yourself; a palace shall be erected for you in whatever part
of France you may prefer, provided that it is twenty miles
from Paris. An estate also —

" Oh, sire, how can you think that such things as these
would compensate me for the loss of your love ? J: Her
heart had turned to lead within her breast. Had he spoken
hotly and angrily she might have hoped to turn him as she
had done before ; but this gentle and yet firm bearing was
new to him, and she felt that all her arts were vain against
it. His coolness enraged her, and yet she strove to choke
down her passion and to preserve the humble attitude which
was least natural to her haughty and vehement spirit ; but
soon the effort became too much for her.

" Madame," said he, " I have thought well over this
matter, and it must be as I say. There is no other way at
all. Since we must part, the parting had best be short and
sharp. Believe me, it is no pleasant matter for me either.
I have ordered your brother to have his carriage at the
postern at nine o'clock, for I thought that perhaps you
would wish to retire after nightfall."

"To hide my shame from a laughing court! It was
thoughtful of you, sire. And yet, perhaps, this too was a
duty, since we hear so much of duties nowadays, for who
was it but you —

11 1 know, madame, I know. I confess it. I have
wronged you deeply. Believe me that every atonement
which is in my power shall be made. Nay, do not look
so angrily at me, I beg. Let our last sight of each other
be one which may leave a pleasant memory behind it."

"A pleasant memory! ' All the gentleness and humility

194 THE REFUGEES.

had fallen from her now, and her voice had the hard ring
of contempt and of anger. " A pleasant memory! It may
well be pleasant to you, who are released from the woman
whom you ruined, who can turn now to another without
any pale face to be seen within the salons of your court
to remind you of your perfidy. But to me, pining in some
lonely country house, spurned by my husband, despised by my
family, the scorn and jest of France, far from all which gave
a charm to life, far from the man for whose love I have
sacrificed everything — this will be a very pleasant memory
to me, you may be sure ! '

The king's eyes had caught the angry gleam which shot
from hers, and yet he strove hard to set a curb upon his
temper. When such a matter had to be discussed between
the proudest man and the haughtiest woman in all France,
one or the other must yield a point. He felt that it was for
him to do so, and yet it did not come kindly to his imperious
nature.

" There is nothing to be gained, madame," said he, " by
using words which are neither seemly for your tongue nor
for my ears. You will do me the justice to confess that
where I might command I am now entreating, and that in-
stead of ordering you as my subject, I am persuading you
as my friend."

" Oh, you show too much consideration, sire ! Our re-
lations of twenty years or so can scarce suffice to explain
such forbearance from you. I should indeed be grateful
that you have not set your archers of the guard upon me,
or marched me from the palace between a file of your mus-
keteers. Sire, how can I thank you for this forbearance ? '
She courtesied low, with her face set in a mocking smile.

"Your words are bitter, madame."

" My heart is bitter, sire."

" Nay, Fran9oise, be reasonable, I implore you. We
have both left our youth behind,''

ftiE TWO FRANCOISES. 1 95

it

The allusion to my years comes gracefully from your
lips.''

" Ah, you distort my words. Then I shall say no more.
You may not see me again, madame. Is there no question
which you would wish to ask me before I go ? '

"Good God!' she cried; "is this a man? Has it a
heart ? Are these the lips which have told me so often
that he loved me ? Are these the eyes which have looked so
fondly into mine ? Can you then thrust away a woman
whose life has been yours as you put away the St. Germain
palace when a more showy one was ready for you ? And
this is the end of all those vows, those sweet whispers,
those persuasions, those promises - This ! '

"Nay, madame, this is painful to both of us."

" Pain i Where is the pain in your face ? I see anger
in it because I have dared to speak truth ; I see joy in it
because you feel that your vile task is done. But where is
the pain ? Ah, when I am gone all will be so easy to you-
will it not ? You can go back then to your governess -

" Madame ! "

"Yes, yes, you cannot frighten me! What do I care for
all that you can do ? But I know all. Do not think that
I am blind. And so you would even have married her!
You the descendant of St. Louis, and she the Scarron
widow, the poor drudge whom in chanty I took into my
household ! Ah, how your courtiers will smile ! how the
little poets will scribble ! how the wits will whisper ! You
do not hear of these things, of course, but they are a little
painful for your friends."

" My patience can bear no more," cried the king furiously.
" I leave you madame, and forever."

But her fury had swept all fear and discretion from her
mind. She stepped between the door and him, her face
flushed, her eyes blazing, her face thrust a little forward, one
small white satin slipper tapping upon the carpet.

14

196 THE REFUGEES.

11 You are in haste, sire ! She is waiting for you, doubt-
less."

" Let me pass, madame."

" But it was a disappointment last night, was it not, my
poor sire? Ah, and for the governess, what a blow!
Great heaven, what a blow ! No archbishop ! No mar-
riage ! All the pretty plan gone wrong ! Was it not
cruel ? "

Louis gazed at the beautiful furious face in bewilderment,
and it flashed across his mind that perhaps her grief had
turned her brain. What else could be the meaning of this
wild talk of the archbishop and the disappointment ? It
would be unworthy of him to speak harshly to one who was
so afflicted. He must soothe her, and, above all, he must
get away from her.

" You have had the keeping of a good many of my family
jewels," said he. " I beg that you will still retain them as
a small sign of my regard."

He had hoped to please her and to calm her, but in an
instant she was over at her treasure-cupboard hurling double
handfuls of precious stones down at his feet. They clinked
and rattled, the little pellets of red and yellow and green,
rolling, glinting over the floor and rapping up against the
oak panels at the base of the walls.

" They will do for the governess if the archbishop comes
at last," she cried.

He was more convinced than ever that she had lost her
wits. A thought struck him by which he might appeal to
all that was softer and more gentle in her nature. He
stepped swiftly to the door, pushed it half open, and gave a
whispered order. A youth with long golden hair waving
down over his black velvet doublet entered the room. It
was her youngest son, the Count of Toulouse.

" I thought that you would wish to bid him farewell,"
said Louis.

"A WOMAN HAD DARTED THROUGH THE OPEN DOOR, AND HAD
CAUGHT THE UPRAISED WRIST"

THE TWO FRANQOISES. 197

She stood staring as though unable to realise the signi-
ficance of his words. Then it was borne suddenly in upon
her that her children as well as her lover were to be taken
from her, that this other woman should see them and speak
with them and win their love while she was far away. All
that was evil and bitter in the woman flashed suddenly up
in her, until for the instant she was what the king had
thought her. If her son was not for her, then he should be
for none. A jewelled knife lay among her treasures, ready to
her hand. She caught it up and rushed at the cowering lad.
Louis screamed and ran forward to stop her ; but another
had been swifter than he. A woman had darted through the
open door, and had caught the upraised wrist. There was a
moment's struggle, two queenly figures swayed and strained,
and the knife dropped between their feet. The frightened
Louis caught it up, and seizing his little son by the wrist,
he rushed from the apartment. Fran9oise de Montespan
staggered back against the ottoman to find herself con-
fronted by the steady eyes and set face of that other Fran-
9oise, the woman whose presence fell like a shadow at every
turn of her life.

" I have saved you, madame, from doing that which you
would have been the first to bewail.''

" Saved me ! It is you who have driven me to this ! '

The fallen favourite leaned against the high back of the
ottoman, her hands resting behind her upon the curve of
the velvet. Her lids were half closed on her flashing eyes,
and her lips just parted to show a gleam of her white teeth.
Here was the true Fran9oise de Montespan, a feline creature
crouching for a spring, very far from that humble and soft-
spoken Francoise who had won the king back by her gentle
words. Madame de Maintenon's hand had been cut in the
struggle, and the blood was dripping down from the end of
her fingers, but neither woman had time to spare a thought
upon that. Her firm gray eyes were fixed upon her former

THE REFUGEES.

rival as one fixes them upon some weak and treacherous
creature who may be dominated by a stronger will.

" Yes, it is you who have driven me to this — you, whom
I picked up when you were hard pressed for a crust of bread
or a cup of sour wine. What had you ? You had nothing
-nothing except a name which was a laughing-stock. And
what did I give you ? I gave you everything. You know that
I gave you everything. Money, position, the entrance to the
court. You had them all from me. And now you mock me ! '

" Madame, I do not mock you. I pity you from the
bottom of mv heart."

tt

" Pity ? Ha ! ha ! A Mortemart is pitied by the widow
Scarron ! Your pity may go where your gratitude is, and
where your character is. We shall be troubled with it no
longer then."

"Your words do not pain me."

"I can believe that you are not sensitive."

" Not when my conscience is at ease."

" Ah ! it has not troubled you, then ? '

" Not upon this point, madame."

" My God ! How terrible must those other points have
been ! "

" I have never had an evil thought towards you."

" None towards me ? Oh, woman, woman ! '

" What have I done, then ? The king came to my room
to see the children taught. He stayed. He talked. He
asked my opinion on this and that. Could I be silent .' or
could I say other than what I thought ? '

" You turned him against me ! '

" I should be proud indeed if I thought that I had turned
him to virtue."

" The word comes well from your lips."

" I would that I heard it upon yours/'

" And so, by your own confession, you stole the king's
love fiom me, most virtuous of widows ! '

THE TWO FRANCOISES. 199

"I had all gratitude and kindly thought for you. You
have, as you have so often reminded me, been my benefac-
tress. It was not necessary for you to say it, for I had never
for an instant forgotten it. Yet if the king has asked me
what I thought, I will not deny to you that I have said that
sin is sin, and that he would be a worthier man if he shook
off the guilty bonds which held him."

" Or exchanged them for others."

"For those of duty."

"Pah! Your hypocrisy sickens me! If you pretend to
be a nun, why are you not where the nuns are ? You would
have the best of two worlds — would you not ?--have all that
the court can give, and yet ape the manners of the cloister.
But you need not do it with me! I know you as your in-
most heart knows you. I was honest, and what I did, i did
before the world. You, behind your priests and your direc-
tors and your prie-dicus and your missals — do you think that
you deceive me, as you deceive others ? '

Her antagonist's gray eyes sparkled for the first time,
and she took a quick step forward, with one white hand half
lifted in rebuke.

" You may speak as you will of me," said she. " To me
it is no more than the foolish paroquet that chatters in your
anteroom. But do not touch upon things which are sacred.
Ah, if you would but raise your own thoughts to such things
— if vou would but turn them inwards, and see, before it is

J

too late, how vile and foul is this life which you have led !
"What might you not have done? His soul was in your
hands like clay for the potter. If you had raised him up, if
you had led him on the higher path, if you had brought out
all that was noble and good within him, how your name
would have been loved and blessed, from the chateau to the
cottage ! But no ; you dragged him down ; you wasted his
youth ; you drew him from his wife ; you marred his man-
hood. A crime in one so high begets a thousand others in

200 THE REFUGEES.

those who look to him for an example ; and all, all are upon
your soul. Take heed, madame, for God's sake take heed
ere it be too late ! For all your beauty there can be for you,
as for me, a few short years of life. Then, when that brown
hair is white, when that white cheek is sunken, when that
bright eye is dimmed — ah, then God pity the sin-stained
soul of Francoise de Montespan ! '

Her rival had sunk her head for the moment before the
solemn words and the beautiful eyes. For an instant she
stood silent, cowed for the first time in all her life ; but then
the mocking, defiant spirit came back to her, and she glanced
up with a curling lip.

" I am already -provided with a spiritual director, thank
vou," said she. " Oh. madame, you must not think to
throw dust in my eyes ! I know you, and know you well ! ''

" On the contrary, you seem to know less than I had ex-
pected. If you know me so well, pray what am I ? '

All her rival's bitterness and hatred rang in the tones of
her answer. "You are," said she, "the governess of my
children, and the secret mistress of the king."

"You are mistaken," answered Madame de Mamtenon
serenely. "I am tho governess of your children, and I am
the king's wife.'"'

—

CHAPTER XXI.
THE MAX IX THE CALECHE.

OFTEN had De Montespan feigned a faint in the days when
she wished to disarm the anger of the king. So she had
drawn his arms round her. and won the pity which is the
twin sister of love. But now she knew what it was to have
the senses struck out of her by a word. She could not
doubt the truth of what she heard. There was that in
her rival's face, in her steady eye. in her quiet voice, which
carried absolute conviction with it. She stood stunned for
an instant, panting, her outstretched hands feeling at the
air, her defiant eyes dulling and glazing. Then, with a
short sharp cry, the wail of one who has fought hard and
yet knows that she can fight no more, her proud head
drooped, and she fell forward senseless at the feet cf her rival.

202 THE REFUGEES.

Madame de Maintenon stooped and raised her up in her
strong white arms. There was true grief and pity in her
eyes as she looked down at the snow-pale face which lay
against her bosom, all the bitterness and pride gone out of
it, and nothing left save the tear which sparkled under the
dark lashes, and the petulant droop of the lip, like that of a
child which had wept itself to sleep. She laid her on the
ottoman and placed a silken cushion under her head. Then
she gathered together and put back into the open cupboard
all the jewels which were scattered about the carpet.
Having locked it. and placed the key on a table where its
owner's eye would readily fall upon it. she struck a gong,
which summoned the little black page.

•• Your mistress is indisposed." said she. " Go and bring
her maids to he: " And so. having done all that lay with
her to do. she turned away from the great silent room,
where, amid the velvet and the gilding, her beautiful rival
lay like a crushed flower, helpless and hopeless.

Helpless enough, for what could she do ? and hopeless too,
for how could fortune aid her ? The instant that her senses
had come back to her she had sent away her waiting women,
and lay with clasped hands and a drawn face planning out
her own weary future. She must go ; that was certain.
Not r. because it was the king's order, but because only

misen' and mocker/ remained for her now in the palace where
she had reigned supreme. It was true that she had held her
position against the queen before, but all her hatred could not
blind her to the fact that her rival was a very different

man to poor meek little Maria Theresa. Xo ; her spirit
was broken at last. She must accept defeat, and she must go.

She rose from the couch, feeling that she had aged ten

.-ars in an hour. Thtrt was much to be done, and little

n which to do it. e had cast down her jewels when

ng had spoken as though they would atone for the loss

of his love; but p that the love v. ^- I'or.t. there was !

THE -V.-LY IX THE C ALEC HE. 203

reason why the jewels should be lost too. If she had ceased
to be the most powerful, she might still be the richest
woman in France. There was her pension, of course.
That would be a munificent one, for Louis was always
generous. And then there was all the spoil which she had
collected during these long years, the jewels, the pearls, the
gold, the vases, the pictures, the crucifixes, the watches, the
trinkets — together they represented many millions of livres.
With her own hands she packed away the more precious
and portable of them, while she arranged with her brother
for the safe-keeping of the others. All day she was at work
in a mood of feverish energy, doing anything and everything
which might distract her thoughts from her own defeat and
her rival's victory. By evening all was ready, and she had
arranged that her property should be sent after her to Petit
Bourg, to which castle she intended to retire.

It wanted half an hour of the time fixed for her departure,
when a young cavalier, whose face was strange to her, was
ushered into the room.

He came with a message from her brother.

" Monsieur de Vivonne regrets, madame, that the rumour
of your departure has got abroad among the court."

"What do I care for that, monsieur?' she retorted,
with all her old spirit.

•' He savs. madame. that the courtiers mav assemble at

• »

the west gate to see you go : that Madame de Xeuilly will
be there, and the Duchesse de Chambord. and Mademoiselle
de Rohan, and-

The lady shrank with horror at the thought of such an
ordeal. To drive away from the palace, where she had
been more than queen, under the scornful eyes and bitter
gibes of so many personal enemies! After all the humilia-
tions of the day. that would be the crowning cup of sorrow.
Her nerve was broken. She could not face it.

•• Tell mv brother, monsieur, that I should be much

204 THE REFUGEES.

obliged if he would make fresh arrangements, by which my
departure might be private."

" He bade me say that he had done so, madame."

" Ah ! at what hour then ? '

" Now. As soon, as possible."

" I am ready. At the west gate then ? '

" No ; at the east. The carriage waits."

" And where is my brother ? '

" We are to pick him up at the park gate."

"And why that? "

" Because he is watched ; and were he seen beside the
carriage, all would be known."

" Very good. Then, monsieur, if you will take my cloak
and this casket we may start at once."

They made their way by a circuitous route through the
less-used corridors, she hurrying on like a guilty creature, a
hood drawn over her face, and her heart in a flutter at every
stray footfall. But fortune stood her friend. She met no
one, and soon found herself at the eastern postern-gate, A
couple of phlegmatic Swiss guardsmen leaned upon their
muskets upon either side, and the lamp above shone upon
the carriage which awaited her. The door was open, and a
tall cavalier swathed in a black cloak handed her into it.
He then took the seat opposite to her, slammed the door,
and the caleche rattled away down the main drive.

It had not surprised her that this man should join her
inside the coach, for it was usual to have a guard there, and
he was doubtless taking the place which her brother would
afterwards occupy. That was all natural enough. But
when ten minutes passed by, and he had neither moved nor
spoken, she peered at him through the gloom with some
curiosity. In the glance which she had of him, as he handed
her in, she had seen that he was dressed like a gentleman, and
there was that in his bow and wave as he did it which told
her experienced senses that he was a man of courtly manners.

THE MAN IN THE CALICHE. 205

But courtiers, as she had known them, were gallant and
garrulous, and this man was so very quiet and still. Again
she strained her eyes through the gloom. His hat was
pulled down and his cloak was still drawn across his mouth,
but from out of the shadow she seemed to get a glimpse of
two eyes which peered at her even as she did at him.

At last the silence impressed her with a vague uneasiness,
It was time to bring it to an end.

" Surely, monsieur, we have passed the park gate where
we were to pick up my brother."

Her companion neither answered nor moved. She thought
that perhaps the rumble of the heavy caleche had drowned
her voice.

"I say, monsieur," she repeated, leaning forwards, "that
we have passed the place where we were to meet Monsieur
de Vivonne."

He took no notice.

"Monsieur," she cried, " I again remark that we have
passed the gates."

There was no answer.

A thrill ran through her nerves. Who or what could he
be, this silent man ? Then suddenly it struck her that he
might be dumb.

" Perhaps monsieur is afflicted," she said. " Perhaps
monsieur cannot speak. If that be the cause of your
silence, will you raise your hand, and I shall understand."
He sat rigid and silent.

Then a sudden mad fear came upon her, shut up in the dark
with this dreadful voiceless thing. She screamed in her terror,
and strove to pull down the window and open the door. But
a grip of steel closed suddenly round her wrist and forced her
back into her seat. And yet the man's body had not moved, and
there was no sound save the lurching and rasping of the car-
riage and the clatter of the flying horses. They were already
out on the country roads far beyond Versailles. It was darker

TtiE REFUGEES.

than before, heavy clouds had banked over the heavens, and
the rumbling of thunder was heard low down on the horizon.

The lady lay back panting upon the leather cushions of
the carriage. She was a brave woman, and yet this sudden
strange horror coming upon her at the moment when she
was weakest had shaken her to the soul. She crouched in
the corner, staring across with eyes which were dilated with
terror at the figure on the other side. If he would but say
something ! Any revelation, any menace, was better than
this silence. It was so dark now that she could hardly see
his vague outline, and every instant, as the storm gathered,
it became still darker. The wind was blowing in little short
angry puffs, and still there was that far-off rattle and rumble.
Again the strain of the silence was unbearable. She must
break it at any cost.

"Sir," said she, "there is some mistake here. I do not
know by what right you prevent me from pulling down the
window and giving my directions to the coachman."

He said nothing.

" I repeat, sir, that there is some mistake. This is the
carriage of my brother, Monsieur de Vivonne, and he is not
a man who will allow his sister to be treated uncourteously."

A few heavy drops of rain splashed against one window.
The clouds were lower and denser. She had quite lost sight
of that motionless figure, but it was all the more terrible
to her now that it was unseen. She screamed with sheer
terror, but her scream availed no more than her words.

" Sir," she cried, clutching forward with her hands and grasp-
ing his sleeve, " you frighten me. You terrify me. I have
never harmed you. Why should you wish to hurt an unfor-
tunate woman ? Oh, speak to me ; for God's sake, speak ! '

Still the patter of rain upon the window, and no other
sound save her own sharp breathing.

" Perhaps you do not know who I am ! " she continued,
endeavouring to assume her usual tone of command, and

THE MAN IN THE CALECHE.

talking now to an absolute and impenetrable darkness.
" You may learn when it is too late that you have chosen
the wrong person for this pleasantry. I am the Marquise de
Montespan, and I am not one who forgets a slight. If you
know anything of the court, you must know that my word
has some weight with the king. You may carry me away
in this carriage, but I am not a person who can disappear
without speedy inquiry, and speedy vengeance if I have been
wronged. If you would— — Oh, Jesus! Have mercy!"

A livid flash of lightning had burst from the heart of the
cloud, and, for an instant, the whole country-side and the
interior of the caleche were as light as day. The man's
face was within a hand's breadth of her own, his mouth
wide open, his eyes mere shining slits, convulsed with
silent merriment. Every detail flashed out clear in that
vivid light — his red quivering tongue, the lighter pink be-
neath it, the broad white teeth, the short brown beard cut
into a peak and bristling forward.

But it was not the sudden flash, it was not the laughing*
cruel face, which shot an ice-cold shudder through Fran9oise
de Montespan. It was that, of all men upon earth, this was
he whom she mostdreaded, and whom she had least thought
to see.

" Maurice ! " she screamed. " Maurice ! it is you ! ;:

" Yes, little wifie, it is I. We are restored to each other's
arms, you see, after this interval."

" Oh, Maurice, how you have frightened me ! How could
you be so cruel ? Why would you not speak to me ? '

" Because it was so sweet to sit in silence and to think that I
really had you to myself after all these years, with none to come
between. Ah, little wifie, I have often longed for this hour."

" I have wronged you, Maurice ; I have wronged you !
Forgive me ! '

" We do not forgive in our family, my darling Fran9oise.
Is it not like old days to find ourselves driving together ?

TH£

And in this carriage, too. It is the very one which bore
us back from the cathedral where you made your vows so
prettily. I sat as I sit now, and you sat there, and I took
your hand like this, and I pressed it, and -

" Oh, villain, you have twisted my wrist ! You have
broken my arm ! '

" Oh, surely not, my little wine ! And then you remem-
ber that, as you told me how truly you would love me. I
leaned forward to your lips, and -

" Oh, help ! Brute, you have cut my mouth ! You have
struck me with your ring."

" Struck you ! Now who would have thought that spring
day when we planned out our futures, that this also was in
the future waiting for me and you ? And this ! and this ! '

He struck savagely at her face in the darkness. She
threw herself down, her head pressed against the cushions.
With the strength and fury of a maniac he showered his
blows above her, thudding upon the leather or crashing
upon the wood-work, heedless of his own splintered hands.

" So I have silenced you," said he at last. " I have
stopped your words with my kisses before now. But the
world goes on, Fran9oise, and times change, and women
grow false, and men grow stern."

"You may kill me if you will," she moaned.

" I will," said he simply.

Still the carriage flew along, jolting and staggering in the
deeply-rutted country roads. The storm had passed, but
the growl of the thunder and the far-off glint of a lightning-
flash were to be heard and seen on the other side of the
heavens. The moon shone out with its clear cold light, silver-
ing the broad, hedgeless, poplar-fringed plains, and shining
through the window of the carriage upon the crouching
figure and her terrible companion. He leaned back now,
his arms folded upon his chest, his eyes gloating upon
the abject misery of the woman who had wronged him.

THE MAN IN THE CALECHE. 209

" Where are you taking me ? " she asked at last.

"To Portillac, my little wine."

" And why there ? What would you do to me ? '

" I would silence that little lying tongue forever. It shall
deceive no more men."

" You would murder me ? :

"If you call it that."

''You have a stone for a heart."

" My other was given to a woman."

" Oh, my sins are indeed punished."

" Rest assured that they will be."

" Can I do nothing to atone ? '

" I will see that you atone."

"You have a sword by your side, Maurice. Why do you
not kill me, then, if you are so bitter against me ? Why do
you not pass it through my heart ? '

" Rest assured that I would have done so had I not an
excellent reason."

"Why, then?"

" I will tell you. At Portillac I have the right of the high
justice, the middle, and the low. I am seigneur there, and
can try, condemn, and execute. It is my lawful privilege.
This pitiful king will not even know how to avenge you, for
the right is mine, and he cannot gainsay it without making
an enemy of every seigneur in France."

He opened his mouth again and laughed at his own
device, while she, shivering in every limb, turned away from
his cruel face and glowing eyes, and buried her face in her
hands. Once more she prayed God to forgive her for her
poor sinful life. So they whirled through the night behind
the clattering horses, the husband and the wife, saying
nothing, but with hatred and fear raging in their hearts,
until a brazier fire shone down upon them from the angle of
a keep, and the shadow of the huge pile loomed vaguely up in
front of them in the darkness. It was the Castle of Pc-rtilJag.

210

CHAPTER XXII.
THE SCAFFOLD OF PORTILLAC.

AND thus it was that Amory de Catinat and Amos Green
saw from their dungeon window the midnight carriage
which discharged its prisoner before their eyes. Hence, too,
came that ominous planking and that strange procession
in the early morning. And thus it also happened that they
found themselves looking down upon Francoise de Monte-
span as she was led to her death, and that they heard that
last piteous cry for aid at the instant when the heavy hand
of the ruffian with the axe fell upon her shoulder, and she
was forced down upon her knees beside the block. She
shrank screaming from the dreadful, red-stained, greasy
billet of wood, but the butcher heaved up his weapon, and
the seigneur had taken a step forward with hand outstretched
to seize the long auburn hair and to drag the dainty head
down with it when suddenly he was struck motionless with
astonishment, and stood with his foot advanced and his
hand still out, his mouth half open, and his eyes fixed in
front of him.

And, indeed, what he had seen was enough to fill any
man with amazement. Out of the small square window
which faced him a man had suddenly shot head-foremost,
pitching on to his outstretched hands and then bounding to
his feet. Within a foot of his heels came the head of a
second one, who fell more heavily than the first, and yet
recovered himself as quickly. The one wore the blue coat
with silver facings of the king's guard; the second had the
dark coat and clean-shaven face of a man of peace ; but each
carried a short rustv iron bar in his hand. Not a word did

THE SCAFFOLD OF PORTILLAC. 2::

either of them say, but the soldier took two quick steps
forward and struck at the headsman while he was si
poising himself for a blow at the victim. There was a thud,
with a crackle like a breaking egg, and the bar flew into pieces.
The headsman gave a dreadful cry, and dropped his axe,
clapped his two hands to his head, and running zigz
across the scaffold, fell over, a dead man, into the court-yard
beneath.

Quick as a flash De Catinat had caught up the axe. and
faced De Montespan with the heavy weapon slung over his
shoulder and a challenge in his eyes.

" Xow ! "' said he.

The seigneur had for the instant been too astounded to
speak, Xovr he understood at least that these strange: -
had corne between him and his prey.

" Seize these men ! ' he shrieked, turning to his fol-
lowers.

'; One moment!' cried De Catinat, with a voice and
manner which commanded attention. '; You see by my coat
what I am, I am the body-sen-ant of the king. Who
touches me touches him. Have a care to yourselve It
is a dangerous game ! '

•'• On, you cowards ! ' roared De Montespan.

But the men-at-arms hesitated, for the fear of the king
was as a great shadow which hung over all France. De
Catinat saw their indecision, and he followed up
advantage.

"This woman," he cried, "is the king's own favour
and if anv harm come to a lock of her hair. I tell vou that

.

there is not a living soul within this portcullis who will not
die a death of torture. Fools, will you gasp out your lives
upon the rack, or writhe in boiling oil. at the bidding of this
madman ? '

" Who are these men, Marceau ? ' cried the seigneur
furiously.

212 THE REFUGEES.

" They are prisoners, your excellency."

" Prisoners ! Whose prisoners ? '

" Yours, your excellency."

" Who ordered you to detain them ?

" You did. The escort brought your signet-ring."

" I never saw the men. There is devilry in this. But
they shall not beard me in my own castle, nor stand be-
tween me and my own wife. No, par dieu ! they shall not
and live ! You men, Marceau, Etienne, Gilbert, Jean,
Pierre, all you who have eaten my bread, on to them, I
say ! "

He glanced round with furious eyes, but they fell only
upon hung heads and averted faces. With a hideous curse
he flashed out his sword and rushed at his wife, who knelt
half insensible beside the block. De Catinat sprang between
them to protect her ; but Marceau, the bearded seneschal,
had already seized his master round the waist. With the
strength of a maniac, his teeth clenched and the foam churn-
ing from the corners of his lips, De Montespan writhed
round in the man's grasp, and shortening his sword, he
thrust it through the brown beard and deep into the throat
behind it. Marceau fell back with a choking cry, the blood
bubbling from his mouth and his wound ; but before his
murderer could disengage his weapon, De Catinat and the
American, aided by a dozen of the retainers, had dragged
him down on to the scaffold, and Amos Green had pinioned
him so securely that he could but move his eyes and his
lips, with which he lay glaring and. spitting at them. So
s'avage were his own followers against him — for Marceau
was well loved amongst them — that, with axe and block so
ready, justice might very swiftly have had her way, had not
a long clear bugle call, rising and falling in a thousand
little twirls and flourishes, clanged out suddenly in the still
morning air. De Catinat pricked up his ears at the sound
of it like a hound at the huntsman's call.

THE SCAFFOLD OF PORTlLLAC. $1$

il Did you hear, Amos ? ':

" it was a trumpet."

" It was the guards' bugle call. You, there, hasten to
the gate ! Throw up the portcullis and drop the draw-
bridge ! Stir yourselves, or even now you may suffer for
your master's sins ! It has been a narrow escape, Amos ! ;;

"You may say so, friend, I saw him put out his hand
to her hair, even as you sprang from the window. Another
instant and he would have had her scalped. But she is a
tair woman, the fairest that ever my eyes rested upon, and
it is not fit that she should kneel here upon these boards."
He dragged her husband's long black cloak from him, and
made a pillow for the senseless woman with a tenderness
and delicacy which came strangely from a man of his build
and bearing.

He was still stooping over her when there came the clang
of the falling bridge, and an instant later the clatter of the
hoofs of a troop of cavalry, who swept with wave of plumes,
toss of manes, and jingle of steel into the court-yard. At
the head was a tall horseman in the full dress of the guards,
with a curling feather in his hat, high buff gloves, and his
sword gleaming in the sunlight. He cantered forward
towards the scaffold, his keen dark eyes taking in every
detail of the group which awaited him there. De Catinat's
face brightened at the sight of him, and he was down in an
instant beside his stirrup.

" De Brissac ! "

" De Catinat ! Now where in the name of wonder did
you come from ? '

" I have been a prisoner. Tell me, De Brissac, did you
leave the message in Paris ? '

"Certainly I did."

" And the archbishop came ? '

"He did."

" And the marriage ? °

2 14 THE REFUGEES.

" Took place as arranged. That is why this poor woman
whom I see yonder has had to leave the palace."

" I thought as much."

" I trust that no harm has come to her ? '

" My friend and I were just in time to save her. Her
husband lies there. He is a fiend, De Brissac."

"Very likely; but an angel might have grown bitter had
he had the same treatment."

"We have him pinioned here. He has slain a man, and
I have slain another."

" On my word, you have been busy.''

" How did you know that we were here ? '

" Nay, that is an unexpected pleasure."

" You did not come for us, then ? >:

" No ; we came for the lady."

" And how did this fellow get hold of her ? "

" Her brother was to have taken her in his carriage, Her
husband learned it, and by a lying message he coaxed her into
his own, which was at another door. When De Vivonne
found that she did not come, and that her rooms were empty,
he made inquiries, and soon learned how she had gone. De
Montespan's arms had been seen on the panel, and so the
king sent me here with my troop as fast as we could gallop."

"Ah, and you would have come too late had a strange
chance not brought us here. I know not who it was who
waylaid us, for this man seemed to know nothing of the
matter. However, all that will be clearer afterwards.
What is to be done now ? '

" I have my own orders. Madame is to be sent to Petit
Bourg, and any who are concerned in offering her violence
are to be kept until the king's pleasure is known. The
castle, too, must be held for the king. But you, De Catinat,
you have nothing to do now ? '

" Nothing, save that I would like well to ride into Paris
to see that all is right with my uncle and his daughter."

THE SCAFFOLD OF PORTILLAC. £15

"Ah, that sweet little cousin of thine ! By my soul, I do
not wonder that the folk know you well in the Rue St.
Martin, Well, I have carried a message for you once, and
you shall do as much for me now."

" With all my heart. And whither ? "

" To Versailles. The king will be on fire to know how
we have fared, You have the best right to tell him, since
without you and your friend yonder it would have been but
a sorry tale.''

" I will be there in two hours/3

" Have you horses ? ;;

" Ours were slain."

" You will find some in the stables here,, Pick the best,
since you have lost your own in the king's service."

The advice was too good to be overlooked. De Catinat,
beckoning to Amos Green, hurried away with him to the
stables, while De Brissac, with a few short sharp orders,
disarmed the retainers, stationed his guardsmen all over the
castle, and arranged for the removal of the lady and for the
custody of her husband. An hour later the two friends were
riding swiftly down the country road, inhaling the sweet air,
which seemed the fresher for their late experience of the
dank foul vapours of their dungeon. Far behind them a
little dark pinnacle jutting over a grove of trees marked the
chateau which they had left, while on the extreme horizon
to the west there came a quick shimmer and sparkle where
the level rays of the early sun -gleamed upon the magnificent
palace which was their goal.

CHAPTER XXIII,
THE FALL OF THE CATINATS.

Two days after Madame de Maintenon's marriage to the
king there was held within the humble walls of her little
room a meeting which was destined to cause untold misery
to many hundreds of thousands of people, and yet, in the
wisdom of Providence, to be an instrument in carrying
French arts and French ingenuity and French sprightliness
among those heavier Teutonic peoples who have been the
stronger and the better ever since for the leaven which they
then received. For in history great evils have sometimes
arisen from a virtue, and most beneficent results have often
followed hard upon a crime.

The time had come when the Church was to claim her
promise from madame, and her pale cheek and sad eyes
showed how vain it had been for her to try and drown the
pleadings of her tender heart by the arguments of the bigots
around her. She knew the Huguenots of France. Who
could know them better, seeing that she was herself from
their stock, and had been brought up in their faith ? She
knew their patience, their nobility, their independence, their
tenacity. What chance was there that they would conform
to the king's wish ? A few great nobles might, but the
others would laugh at the galleys, the jail, or even the
gallows when the faith of their fathers was at stake. If
their creed were no longer tolerated, then, and if they
remained true to it, they must either fly from the country
or spend a living death tugging at an oar or working in a
chain-gang upon the roads. It was a dreadful alternative
to present to a people who were so numerous that they

THE FALL OF THE CAT I MATS. 217

made a small nation in themselves. And most dreadful of
all that she who was of their own blood should cast her
voice against them. And yet her promise had been given,
and now the time had come when it must be redeemed.

The eloquent Bishop Bossuet was there, with Louvois,
the minister of war,, and the famous Jesuit, Father La
Chaise, each piling argument upon argument to overcome
the reluctance of the king. Beside them stood another
priest, so thin and so pale that he might have risen from his
bed of death, but with a fierce light burning in his large
dark eyes, and with a terrible resolution in his drawn brows
and in the set of his grim, lanky jaw. Madame bent over
her tapestry and weaved her coloured silks in silence, while
the king leaned upon his hand and listened with the face of
a man who knows that he is driven, and yet can hardly turn
against the goads. On the low table lay a paper, with pen
and ink beside it. It was the order for the revocation, and
it only needed the king's signature to make it the law of
the land.

" And so, father, you are of opinion that if I stamp out
heresy in this fashion I shall assure my own salvation in
the next world ? " he asked.

" You will have merited a reward."

" And you think so too, Monsieur Bishop ? '

" Assuredly, sire."

" And you, Abbe du Chayla ? "

The emaciated priest spoke for the first time, a tinge of
colour creeping into his corpse-like cheeks, and a more lurid
light in his deep-set eyes.

" I know not about assuring your salvation, sire. I think
it would take very much more to do that. But there cannot
be a doubt as to your damnation if you do not do it."

The king started angrily, and frowned at the speaker.

" Your words are somewhat more curt than I am accus-
tomed to," he remarked.

It
II

2i8 ?HE &EPV&EES.

" In such a matter it were cruel indeed to leave you in
doubt. I say again that your soul's fate hangs upon the
balance. Heresy is a mortal sin. Thousands of heretics
would turn to the Church if you did but give the wordo
Therefore these thousands of mortal sins are all upon youi
soul. What hope for it then, if you do not amend ? ''
My father and my grandfather tolerated them."
Then, without some special extension of the grace of
God, your father and your grandfather are burning in helL"

" Insolent ! ' The king sprang from his seat.

" Sire, I will say what I hold to be the truth were you
fifty times a king. What care I for any man when I know
that I speak for the King of kings ? See ; are these the
limbs of one who would shrink from testifying to truth ? '
With a sudden movement he threw back the long sleeves of
his gown and shot out his white fleshless arms. The bones
were all knotted and bent and screwed into the most fan-
tastic shapes. Even Louvois, the hardened man of the
court, and his two brother priests, shuddered at the sight of
those dreadful limbs. He raised them above his head and
turned his burning eyes upwards.

" Heaven has chosen me to testify for the faith before
now," said he. " I heard that blood was wanted to nourish
the young Church of Siam, and so to Siam I journeyed.
They tore me open ; they crucified me ; they wrenched and
split my bones. I was left as a dead man, yet God has
breathed the breath of life back into me that I may help in
this great work of the regeneration of France."

"Your sufferings, father,'' said Louis, resuming his seat,
"give you every claim, both upon the Church and upon me,
who am its special champion and protector. What would
you counsel, then, father, in the case of those Huguenots
who refuse to change ? '

" They would change," cried Du Chayla, with a drawn
smile upon his ghastly face. " They must bend or they

FALL OF THE CATINATS. 410

must break. What matter if they be ground to powder, if
we can but build up a complete Church in the land ? ' His
deep-set eyes glowed with ferocity, and he shook one bony
hand in savage wrath above his head.

" The cruelty with which you have been used, then, has
not taught you to be more tender to others."

"Tender! To heretics! No, sire, my own pains have
taught me that the world and the flesh are as nothing, and
that the truest charity to another is to capture his soul at all
risks to his vile body. I should have these Huguenot souls,
sire, though I turned France into a shambles to gain them."

Louis was evidently deeply impressed by the fearless
words and the wild earnestness of the speaker. He leaned
his head upon his hand for a little time, and remained sunk
in the deepest thought.

" Besides, sire," said Pere La Chaise softly, "there would
be little need for these stronger measures of which the good
abbe speaks. As I have already remarked to you, you are
so beloved in your kingdom that the mere assurance that
you had expressed your will upon the subject would be
enough to turn them all to the true faith."

" I wish that I could think so, father, I wish that I could
think so. But what is this ? '

It was his valet who had half opened the door.

" Captain de Catinat is here, who desires to see you at
once, sire."

" Ask the captain to enter. Ah ! ' A happy thought
seemed to have struck him. " We shall see what love for
me will do in such a matter, for if it is anywhere to be found
it must be among my own body-servants."

The guardsman had arrived that instant from his long
ride, and leaving Amos Green with the horses, he had come
on at once, all dusty and travel-stained, to carry his message
to the king. He entered now, and stood with the quiet ease of
a man who is used to such scenes, his hand raised in a salute.

TffE REFUGEES.

" What news, captain ? '

" Major de Brissac bade me tell you, sire, that he held the
Castle of Portillac, that the lady is safe, and that her hus-
band is a prisoner."

Louis and his wife exchanged a quick glance of relief.

" That is well," said he. " By-the-way, captain, you have
served me in many ways of late, and always with success.
I hear, Louvois, that De la Salle is dead of the small-pox."

" He died yesterday, sire."

" Then I desire that you make out the vacant commission
of major to Monsieur de Catinat. Let me be the first to
congratulate you, major, upon your promotion, though you
will need to exchange the blue coat for the pearl and gray
of the mousquetaires. We cannot spare you from the house-
hold, you see."

De Catinat kissed the hand which the monarch held out
to him.

" May I be worthy of your kindness, sire ! '

" You would do what you could to serve me, would you
not?"

" My life is yours, sire."

''Very good. Then I shall put your fidelity to the
proof."

" I am ready for any proof."

" It is not a very severe one. You see this paper upon
the table. It is an order that all the Huguenots in my
dominions shall give up their errors, under pain of banish-
ment or captivity. Now I have hopes that there are many
of my faithful subjects who are at fault in this matter, but
who will abjure it when they learn that it is my clearly ex-
pressed wish that they should do so. It would be a great
joy to me to find that it was so, for it would be a pain to me
to use force against any man who bears the name of French-
man. Do you follow me ? '

Yes, sire." The young man had turned deadly pale, and

"

THE FALL OF THE CATINATS. 221

he shifted his feet, and opened and clasped his hands. He
had faced death a dozen times and under many different
forms, but never had he felt such a sinking- of the heart as
came over him now.

"You are yourself a Huguenot, I understand. I would
gladly have you, then, as the first fruit of this great mea-
sure. Let us hear from your own lips that you, for one, are
ready to follow the lead of your king in this as in other
things."

The young guardsman still hesitated, though his doubts
were rather as to how he should frame his reply than as to
what its substance should be. He felt that in an instant
Fortune had wiped out all the good turns which she had
done him during his past life, and that now, far from being
in her debt, he held a heavy score against her. The king
arched his eyebrows and drummed his fingers impatiently
as he glanced at the downcast face and dejected bearing.

"Why all this thought?' he cried. "You are a man
whom I have raised and whom I will raise. He who has a
major's epaulettes at thirty may carry a marshal's baton at
fifty. Your past is mine and your future shall be no less
so. What other hopes have you ? '

" I have none, sire, outside your service."

"Why this silence, then? Why do you not give the
assurance which I demand ? '

" I cannot do it, sire."

" You cannot do it ! '

" It is impossible. I should have no more peace in my
mind, or respect for myself, if I knew that for the sake of
position or wealth I had given up the faith of my fathers."

" Man, you are surely mad ! There is all that a man
could covet upon one side, and what is there upon the
other?"

"There is my honour."

" And is it, then, a dishonour to embrace my religion ? '

222 THE REFUGEES.

" It would be a dishonour to me to embrace it for the sake
of gain without believing in it."

"Then believe it."

" Alas, sire, a man cannot force himself to believe. Belief
is a thing which must come to him, not he to it."

" On my word, father," said Louis, glancing with a bitter
smile at his Jesuit confessor, " I shall have to pick the
cadets of the household from your seminary, since my
officers have turned casuists and theologians. So, for the
last time, you refuse to obey my request ? '

" Oh, sire De Catinat took a step forward with

outstretched hands and tears in his eyes.

But the king checked him with a gesture. " ! desire no
protestations," said he. " I judge a man by his acts. Do
you abjure or not ? '

" I cannot, sire."

"You see," said Louis, turning again to the Jesuit, "it
will not be as easy as you think."

"This man is obstinate, it is true, but many others will
be more yielding."

The king shook his head. " I would that I knew what to
do," said he. " Madame, I know that you, at least, will
ever give me the best advice. You have heard all that has
been said. What do you recommend ? '

She kept her eyes still fixed upon her tapestry, but her
voice was firm and clear as she answered :-

" You have yourself said that you are the eldest son of
the Church. If the eldest son desert her, then who will do
her bidding ? And there is truth, too, in what the holy
abbe has said. You may imperil your own soul by condon-
ing this sin of heresy. It growrs and flourishes, and if it be
not rooted out now, it may choke the truth as weeds and
briers choke the wheat."

" There are districts in France now," said Bossuet,
" where a church is not to be seen in a day's journey, and

THE FALL OF THE C ATI NATS. 223

where all the folk, from the nobles to the peasants, are of
the same accursed faith. So it is in the Cevennes, where
the people are as fierce and rugged as their own mountains.
Heaven guard the priests who have to bring them back
from their errors."

"Whom should I send on so perilous a task?' asked
Louis.

The Abbe du Chayla was down in an instant upon his
knees with his gaunt hands outstretched. " Send me, sire !
Me ! ' he cried. " I have never asked a favour of you, and
never will again. But I am the man who could break this
people. Send me with your message to the people of the
Cevennes."

" God help the people of the Cevennes ! ' muttered Louis
as he looked with mingled respect and loathing at the emaci-
ated face and fiery eyes of the fanatic. " Very well, abbe,"
he added aloud ; "you shall go to the Cevennes."

Perhaps for an instant there came upon the stern priest
some premonition of that dreadful morning when, as he
crouched in a corner of his burning home, fifty daggers wrere
to rasp against each other in his body. He sunk his face
in his hands, and a shudder passed over his gaunt frame.
Then he rose, and folding his arms, he resumed his impas-
sive attitude. Louis took up the pen from the table, and
drew the paper towards him.

" I have the same counsel, then, from all of you," said he,
— " from you, bishop ; from you, father ; from you, madame ;
from you, abbe ; and from you, Louvois. Well, if ill come
from it, may it not be visited upon me ! But what is
this?"

De Catinat had taken a step forward with his hand out-
stretched. His ardent, impetuous nature had suddenly
broken down all the barriers of caution, and he seemed for
the instant to see that countless throng of men, women
and children of his own faith, all unable to sav a word for

224 THE REFUGEES.

themselves, and all looking to him as their champion and
spokesman. He had thought little of such matters when
all was well, but now, when danger threatened, the deeper
side of his nature was moved, and he felt how light a thing
is life and fortune when weighed against a great abiding
cause and principle.

" Do not sign it, sire," he cried. " You will live to wish
that your hand had withered ere it grasped that pen. I
know it, sire ; I am sure of it. Consider all these helpless
folk— the little children, the young girls, the old and the
feeble. Their creed is themselves. As well ask the leaves
to change the twigs on which they grow. They could not
change. At most you could but hope to turn them from
honest folk into hypocrites. And why should you do it ?
They honour you. They love you. They harm none.
They are proud to serve in your armies, to fight for you, to
work for you, to build up the greatness of your kingdom.
I implore you, sire, to think again before you sign an order
which will bring misery and desolation to so many."

For a moment the king had hesitated as he listened to
the short abrupt sentences in which the soldier pleaded for
his fellows, but his face hardened again as he remembered
how even his own personal entreaty had been unable to
prevail with this young dandy of the court.

"France's religion should be that of France's king," said
he, u and if my own guardsmen thwart me in such a matter,
I must find others who will be more faithful. That major's
commission in the mousquetaires must go to Captain de
Belmont, Louvois."

" Very good, sire."

"And De Catinat's commission may be transferred to
Lieutenant Labadoyere."

" Very good, sire."

"And I am to serve you no longer? '

" You are too dainty for my service."

7,

C

5:

Q

THE FALL OF THE CATtNATS. 22$

De Catinat's arms fell listlessly to his side, and his head
sunk forward upon his breast. Then, as he realised the ruin
of all the hopes of his life, and the cruel injustice with which
he had been treated, he broke into a cry of despair, and
rushed from the room with the hot tears of impotent anger
running down his face. So, sobbing, gesticulating, with
coat unbuttoned and hat awry, he burst into the stable where
placid Amos Green was smoking his pipe and watching
with critical eyes the grooming of the horses.

" What in thunder is the matter now ? " he asked, holding
his pipe by the bowl, while the blue wreaths curled up from
his lips.

" This sword," cried the Frenchman — "I have no
right to wear it ! I shall break it ! '

"Well, and I'll break my knife too if it will hearten you
up."

" And these," cried De Catinat, tugging at his silver
shoulder-straps, " they must go."

" Ah, you draw ahead of me there, for I never had any.
But come, friend, let me know the trouble, that I may see if
it may not be mended."

"To Paris! to Paris!' shouted the guardsman, frantic-
ally. " If I am ruined, I may yet be in time to save them.
The horses, quick ! '

It was clear to the American that some sudden calamity
had befallen, so he aided his comrade and the grooms to
saddle and bridle.

Five minutes later they were flying on their way and in
little more than an hour their steeds, all reeking and foam-
flecked, were pulled up outside the high house in the Rue
St. Martin. De Catinat sprang from his saddle and rushed
upstairs, while Amos followed in his own leisurely fashion.

The old Huguenot and his beautiful daughter were seated
at one side of the great fireplace, her hand in his, and they
sprang up together, she to throw herself with a glad cry into

226 THE REFUGEES.

the arms of her lover, and he to grasp the hand which his
nephew held out to him.

At the other side of the fireplace, with a very long pipe in
his mouth and a cup of wine upon a settle beside him, sat a
strange-looking man, with grizzled hair and beard, a fleshy
red projecting nose, and two little gray eyes, which twinkled
out from under huge brindled brows. His long thin face
was laced and seamed with wrinkles, crossing and recross-
ing everywhere, but fanning out in hundreds from the
corners of his eyes. It was set in an unchanging expres-
sion, and as it was of the same colour all over, as dark as
the darkest walnut, it might have been some quaint figure-
head cut out of a coarse-grained wood. He was clad in a
blue serge jacket, a pair of red breeches smeared at the knees
with tar, clean gray worsted stockings, large steel buckles over
his coarse square-toed shoes, and beside him, balanced upon
the top of a thick oaken cudgel, was a weather-stained
silver-laced hat. His gray-shot hair was gathered up behind
into a short stiff tail, and a seaman's hanger, with a brass
handle, was girded to his waist by a tarnished leather belt.

De Catinat had been too occupied to take notice of this
singular individual, but Amos Green gave a shout of delight
at the sight of him, and ran forward to greet him. The
other's wooden face relaxed so far as to show two tobacco-
stained fangs, and, without rising, he held out a great red
hand, of the size and shape of a moderate spade.

"Why, Captain Ephraim," cried Amos in English, "who
ever would have thought of finding you here ? De Catinat,
this is my old friend Ephraim Savage, under whose charge
I came here."

"Anchor's apeak, lad, and the hatches down," said the
stranger, in the peculiar drawling voice which the New
Englanders had retained from their ancestors, the English
Puritans.

" And when do you sail ? '

THE FALL OF THE CATINATS. 227

" As soon as your foot is on her deck, if Providence serve
us with wind and tide. And how has all gone with thee,
Amos ? "

" Right well. I have much to tell you of."

" I trust that you have held yourself apart from all their
popish devilry."

"Yes, yes, Ephraim."

" And have had no truck with the scarlet woman."

" No, no ; but what is it now ? ;

The grizzled hair was bristling with rage, and the little
gray eyes were gleaming from under the heavy tufts. Amos,
following their gaze, saw that De Catinat was seated with
his arm round Adele, while her head rested upon his
shoulder.

" Ah, if I but knew their snip-snap, lippetty-chippetty
lingo ! Saw one ever such a sight ! Amos, lad, what is the
French for a ' shameless "hussy ' ? :

" Nay, nay, Ephraim. Surely one may see such a sight,
and think no harm of it, on our side of the water."

" Never, Amos. In no godly country.''

" Tut ! I have seen folks courting in New York.''

"Ah, New York ! I said in no godly country. I cannot
answer for New York or Virginia. South of Cape Cod, or
of New Haven at the furthest, there is no saying what folk
will do. Very sure I am that in Boston or Salem or Ply-
mouth she would see the bridewell and he the stocks for half
as much. Ah ! ' He shook his head and bent his brows at
the guilty couple.

But they and their old relative were far too engrossed with
their own affairs to give a thought to the Puritan seaman.
De Catinat had told his tale in a few short, bitter sentences,
the injustice that had been done to him, his dismissal from
the king's service, and the ruin which had come upon the
Huguenots of France. Adele, as is the angel instinct of
woman, thought only of her lover and his misfortunes as she

228 THE REFUGEES.

listened to his story, but the old merchant tottered to his feet
when he heard of the revocation of the edict, and stood with
shaking limbs, staring about him in bewilderment.

" What am I to do ?" he cried. " What am I to do ? I
am too old to begin my life again.''

"Never fear, uncle," said De Catinat heartily. "There
are other lands beyond France."

" But not for me. No, no ; I am too old. Lord, but
Thy hand is heavy upon Thy servants. Now is the vial
opened, and the carved work of the sanctuary thrown down.
Ah, what shall I do, and whither shall I turn ? ' He wrung
his hands in his perplexity,,

"What is amiss with him, then, Amos?' asked the
seaman. "Though I know nothing of what he says, yet I
can see that he flies a distress signal."

" He and his must leave the country, Ephraim."

"And why?"

" Because they are Protestants, and the king will not
abide their creed,"

Ephraim Savage was across the room in an instant, and
had enclosed the old merchant's thin hand in his own great
knotted fist. There was a brotherly sympathy in his strong
grip and rugged weather-stained face which held up the
other's courage as no words could have done.

"What is the French for 'the scarlet woman,' Amos?" he
asked, glancing over his shoulder " Tell this man that we
shall see him through. Tell him that we've got a country
where he'll just fit in like a bung in a barrel. Tell him that
religion is free to all there, and net a papist nearer than
Baltimore or the Capuchins of the Penobscot. Tell him
that if he wants to come, the Golden Rod is waiting with
her anchor apeak and her cargo aboard. Tell him what you
like, so long as you make him come."

" Then we must come at once," said De Catinat, as he
listened to the ccrdial message which was conveyed to his

THE FALL OF THE CAT I NATS. 229

uncle. " To-night the orders will be out, and to-morrow it
may be too late."

" But my business ! ' cried the merchant.

" Take what valuables you can and leave the rest. Better
that than lose all, and liberty into the bargain."

And so at last it was arranged. That very night, within
five minutes of the closing of the gates, there passed out of
Paris a small party of five, three upon horseback, and two
in a closed carriage which bore several weighty boxes upon
the top. They were the first leaves flying before the hurri-
cane, the earliest of that great multitude who were within
the next few months to stream along every road which led
from France, finding their journey's end too often in galley,
dungeon and torture chamber, and yet flooding over the
frontiers in numbers sufficient to change the industries and
modify the characters of all the neighbouring peoples. Like
the Israelites of old, they had been driven from their homes
at the bidding of an angry king, who, even while he exiled
them, threw every difficulty in the way of their departure.
Like them, too, there were none of them who could hope
to reach their promised land without grievous wanderings,
penniless, friendless, and destitute. What passages befell
these pilgrims in their travels, what dangers they met and
overcame in the land of the Swiss, on the Rhine, among the
Walloons, in England, in Ireland, in Berlin, and even in
far-off Russia, has still to be written. This one little group,
however, whom we know, we may follow in their venture-
some journey, and see the chances which befell them upon
that great continent which had lain fallow for so long, sown
only with the weeds of humanity, but which was now at last
about to quicken into such glorious life,

230

PART II.

/AT THE NEW WORLD.

CHAPTER XXIV.
THE START OF THE GOLDEN ROD.

THANKS to the early tidings which the guardsman had
brought with him, his little party was now ahead of the
news. As they passed through the village of Louvier in
the early morning they caught a glimpse of a naked corpse
upon a dunghill, and were told by a grinning watchman
that it was that of a Huguenot who had died impenitent,
but that was a common enough occurrence already and
did not mean that there had been any change in the law.
At Rouen all was quiet, and Captain Ephraim Savage be-
fore evening had brought both them and* such property as
they had saved aboard of his brigantine, the Golden Rod.
It was but a little craft, some seventy tons burden, but at
a time when so many were putting out to sea in open boats,
preferring the wrath of Nature to that of the king, it was a
refuge indeed. The same night the seaman drew up his
anchor and began to slowly make his way down the winding
river.

And very slow work it was. There was half a moon
shining and a breeze from the east, but the stream writhed
and twisted and turned until sometimes they seemed to be
sailing up rather than down. In the long reaches they set
the yard square and ran, but often they had to lower their
two boats and warp her painfully along, Tomlinson of
Salem, the mate, and six grave, tobacco-chewing, New Eng-
land seamen with their broad palmetto hats, tugging and

THE START OF THE GOLDEN ROD. 231

straining at the oars. Amos Green, De Catinat and even
the old merchant had to take their spell ere morning, when
the sailors were needed aboard for the handling of the
canvas. At last, however, with the early dawn the river
broadened out and each bank trended away leaving a long
funnel-shaped estuary between. Ephraim Savage snuffed
the air and paced the deck briskly with a twinkle in his keen
gray eyes. The wind had fallen away, but there was still
enough to drive them slowly upon their course.

" Where's the gal ? " he asked.

"She is in my cabin," said Amos Green. "I thought
that maybe she could manage there until we got across,"

" Where will you sleep yourself, then ? '

" Tut, a litter of spruce boughs and a sheet of birch bark
over me have been enough all these years. What would I
ask better than this deck of soft white pine, and my blanket ?"

" Very good. The old man and his nephew, him with the
blue coat, can have the two empty bunks. But you must
speak to that man, Amos. I'll have no philandering aboard
my ship, lad — no whispering or cuddling or any such foolish-
ness. Tell him that this ship is just a bit broke off from
Boston, and he'll have to put up with Boston ways until he
gets off her. They've been good enough for better men than
him. You give me the French for ' no philandering,' and
I'll bring him up with a round turn when he drifts."

" It's a pity we left so quick or they might have been
married before we started. She's a good girl, Ephraim, and
he is a fine man, for all that their ways are not the same as
ours. They don't seem to take life so hard as we, and may-
be they get more pleasure out of it."

" I never heard tell that we were put here to get pleasure
Out of it," said the old Puritan, shaking his head. "The
valley of the shadow of death don't seem to me to be the
kind o' name one would give to a playground. It is a trial
and a chastening, that's what it is, the gall of bitterness ancj

232 THE REFUGEES.

the bond of iniquity. We're bad from the beginning, like
a stream that runs from a tamerack swamp, and we've
enough to do to get ourselves to rights without any fool's
talk about pleasure.''

" It seems to me to be all mixed up," said Amos, " like
the fat and the lean in a bag of pemmican. Look at that
sun just pushing its edge over the trees, and see the pink
flush on the clouds and the river like a rosy ribbon behind
us. It's mighty pretty to our eyes, and very pleasing to us,
and it wouldn't be so to my mind if the Creator hadn't
wanted it to be. Many a time when I have lain in the
woods in the fall and smoked my pipe and felt how good
the tobacco was and how bright the yellow maples were,
and the purple ash, and the red tupelo blazing among the
bushwood, I've felt that the real fool's talk was with the
man who could doubt that all this was meant to make the
world happier for us."

"You've been thinking too much in them woods," said
Ephraim Savage, gazing at him uneasily. " Don't let your
sail be too great for your boat, lad, nor trust to your own
wisdom. Your father was from the Bay, and you were
raised from a stock that cast the dust of England from their
feet rather than bow down to Baal. Keep a grip on the
word and don't think bevond it. But what is the matter

•/

with the old man ? He don't seem easy in his mind."

The old merchant had been leaning over the bulwarks
looking back with a drawn face and weary eyes at the red
curving track behind them which marked the path to Paris.
Adele had come up now, with not a thought to spare upon
the dangers and troubles which lay in front of her as she
chafed the old man's thin cold hands, and whispered words
of love and comfort into his ears. But they had come to
the point where the gentle still-flowing river began for the
first time to throb to the beat of the sea. The old man
gazed forward with horror at the bowsprit as he saw it rise

THE START OF THE GOLDEN ROD. 233

slowly upwards into the air, and clung frantically at the rail
as it seemed to slip away from beneath him.

"We are always in the hollow of God's hand," he whis-
pered, " but oh, Adele, it is a dreadful thing to feel His
fingers moving under us."

"Come with me, uncle/' said De Catinat, passing his arm
under that of the old man. " It is long since you have
rested. And you, Adele, I pray that you will go and sleep,
my poor darling, for it has been a weary journey. Go now,
to please me, and when you wake, both France and your
troubles will lie behind you."

When father and daughter had left the deck, De Catinat
made his way aft again to where Amos Green and the
captain were standing.

" I am glad to get them below, Amos," said he, " for I
fear that we may have trouble yet."

" And how ? "

"You see the white road which runs by the southern
bank of the river. Twice within the last half-hour I have
seen horsemen spurring for dear life along it. Where the
spires and smoke are yonder is Honfleur, and thither it was
that these men went. I know not who could ride so madly
at such an hour unless they were the messengers of the king.
Oh, see, there is a third one ! '

On the white band which wound among the green mea-
dows a black dot could be seen which moved along with
great rapidity, vanished behind a clump of trees and then
reappeared again, making for the distant city. Captain
Savage drew out his glass and gazed at the rider.

"Aye, aye," said he; as he snapped it up again. " It is
a soldier, sure enough, I can see the glint of the scabbard
which he carries on his larboard side. I think we shall have
more wind soon. With a breeze we can show our heels to
anything in French waters, but a galley or an armed boat
would overhaul us now."

234 THE REFUGEES.

De Catinat, who, though he could speak little English,
had learned in America to understand it pretty well, looked
anxiously at Amos Green. " I fear that we shall bring
trouble on this good captain," said he, " and that the loss
of his cargo and ship may be his reward for having be-
friended us. Ask him whether he would not prefer to land
us on the north bank. With our money we might make our
way into the Lowlands."

Ephraim Savage looked at his passenger with eyes which
had lost something of their sternness. " Young man," said
he, " I see that you can understand something of my talk."

De Catinat nodded.

" I tell you then that I am a bad man to beat. Any man
that was ever shipmates with me would tell you as much.
I just jam my helm and keep my course as long as God will
let me. D'ye see ? '

De Catinat again nodded, though in truth the seaman's
metaphors left him with but a very general sense of his
meaning.

" We're comin' abreast of that there town, and in ten
minutes we shall know if there is any trouble waiting for us.
But I'll tell you a story as we go that'll show you what kind
o' man you've shipped with. It was ten years ago that I speak
of, when I was in the Speedwell, sixty-ton brig, tradin' be-
twixt Boston and Jamestown, goin' south with lumber and
skins and fixin's, d'ye see, and north again with tobacco and
molasses. One night, blowin' half a gale from the south'ard,
we ran on a reef two miles to the east of Cape May, and
down we went with a hole in our bottom like as if she'd
been spitted on the steeple o' one o' them Honfleur churches.
Well, in the morning there I was washin' about, nigh out
of sight of land, clingin' on to half the foreyard, without a
sign either of my mates or of wreckage. I wasn't so cold,
for it was early fall, and I could get three parts of my body
pn to the spar, but I was hungry and thirsty and bruised, so

THE START Of THE GOLDEN ROD.

I just took in two holes of my waist-belt, and put up a hymn,
and had a look round for what I could see. Well, I saw
more than I cared for. Within five paces of me there was
a great fish, as long pretty nigh as the spar that I was
grippin'. It's a mighty pleasant thing to have your legs in
the water and a beast like that all ready for a nibble at
your toes."

" Mon Dieu!" cried the French soldier, "And he have
not eat you ! '

Ephraim Savage's little eyes twinkled at the reminiscence.
" I ate him,'' said he.
"What!" cried Amos.

" It's a mortal fact. I'd a jack-knife in my pocket, same
as this one, and I kicked my legs to keep the brute off, and
I whittled away at the spar until Pd got a good jagged bit
oft1, sharp at each end, same as a nigger told me once down
Delaware way. Then I waited for him, and stopped kick-
ing, so he came at me like a hawk on a chick a-dee. When
he turned up his belly I jammed my left hand with the wood
right into his great grinnin' mouth, and I let him have it
with my knife between the gills. He tried to break away
then, but I held on, d'ye see, though he took me so deep I
thought I'd never come up again. I was nigh gone when
we got to the surface, but he was floatin' with the white up,
and twenty holes in his shirt front. Then I got back to my
spar, for we'd gone a long fifty fathoms under water, and
when I reached it I fainted dead away."
"And then?"

" Well, when I came to, it was calm, and there was the
dead shark floatin' beside me. I paddled my spar over to
him and I got loose a few yards of halliard that were hangin'
from one end of it. I made a clove-hitch round his tail, d'ye
see, and got the end of it slung over the spar and fastened,
so as I couldn't lose him. Then I set to work and I ate
him in a week right up to his back fin, and I drank the

236 THE REFUGEES.

rain that fell on my coat, and when I was picked up by the
Grade of Gloucester, I was that fat that I could scarce
climb aboard. That's what Ephraim Savage means, my
lad, when he says that he is a baddish man to beat."

Whilst the Puritan seaman had been detailing his reminis-
cence, his eyes had kept wandering from the clouds to the
flapping sails and back. Such wind as there was came in
little short puffs, and the canvas either drew full or was
absolutely slack. The fleecy shreds of cloud above, how-
ever, travelled swiftly across the blue sky. It was on these
that the captain fixed his gaze, and he watched them like a
man who is working out a problem in his mind. They
were abreast of Honfleur now, and about half a mile out
from it. Several sloops and brigs were lying there in a
cluster, and a whole fleet of brown-sailed fishing boats were
tacking slowly in. Yet all was quiet on the curving quay
and on the half-moon fort over which floated the white flag
with the golden fleurs-de-lis. The port lay on their quarter
now and they were drawing away more quickly as the
breeze freshened. De Catinat glancing back had almost
made up his mind that their fears were quite groundless
when they were brought back in an instant and more
urgently than ever.

Round the corner of the mole a great dark boat had dashed
into view, ringed round with foam from her flying prow, and
from the ten pairs of oars which swung from either side of
her. A dainty white ensign drooped over her stern, and in
her bows the sun's light was caught by a heavy brass car-
ronade. She was packed with men, and the gleam which
twinkled every now and again from amongst them told that
they were armed to the teeth. The captain brought his
glass to bear upon them and whistled. Then he glanced up
at the clouds once more.

" Thirty men," said he, " and they go three paces to our
two. You, sir, take your blue coat off this deck or you'll

THE START OF THE GOLDEN ROD. 237

bring trouble upon us. The Lord will look after His own if
they'll only keep from foolishness. Get these hatches off,
Tomlinson. So ! Where's Jim Sturt and Hiram Jefferson ?
Let them stand by to clap them on again when I whistle.
Starboard ! Starboard ! Keep her as full as she'll draw.
Now, Amos, and you, Tomlinson, come here until I have a
word with you."

The three stood in consultation upon the poop, glancing
back at their pursuers. There could be no doubt that the
wind was freshening ; it blew briskly in their faces as they
looked back, but it was not steady yet, and the boat was
rapidly overhauling them. Already they could see the faces
of the marines who sat in the stern, and the gleam of the
lighted linstock which the gunner held in his hand.

"Hold!" cried an officer in excellent English. "Lay
her to or we fire ! ':

"Who are you, and what do you want ? " shouted Ephraim
Savage, in a voice that might have been heard from the
bank.

"We come in the king's name, and we want a party of
Huguenots from Paris who came on board of your vessel at
Rouen."

" Brace back the foreyard and lay her to," shouted the
captain. " Drop a ladder over the side there and look
smart! So ! Now we are ready for them."

The yard was swung round and the vessel lay quietly
rising and falling on the waves. The boat dashed along-
side, her brass cannon trained upon the brigantine, and her
squad of marines with their fingers upon their triggers ready
to open fire. They grinned and shrugged their shoulders
when they'saw that their sole opponents were three unarmed
men upon the poop. The officer, a young active fellow
with a bristling moustache, like the whiskers of a cat, was
on deck in an instant with his drawn sword in his hand.

" Come up, two of you ! " he cried. " You stand here at

238 fr#£ REFUGEES.

the head of the ladder, sergeant. Throw up a rope and
you can fix it to this stanchion, Keep awake down there
and be all ready to fire ! You come with me, Corporal
Lemoinec Who is captain of this ship ? '

" I am, sir," said Ephraim Savage submissively.

"You have three Huguenots aboard?'

" Tut ! Tut ! Huguenots, are they ? I thought they
were very anxious to get away, but as long as they paid
their passage it was no business of mine An old man, his
daughter, and a young fellow about your age in some sort
of livery,"

"In uniform, sir? The uniform of the king's guard.
Those are the folk I have come for."

" And you wish to take them back ? '

"Most certainly."

" Poor folk ! I am sorry for them."

"And so am I, but orders are orders and must be done."

" Quite so. Well, the old man is in his bunk asleep.
The maid is in a' cabin below. And the other is sleeping
down the hold there where we had to. put him, for there
is no room elsewhere."

" Sleeping, you say ? We had best surprise him."

" But think you that you dare do it alone ! He has no
arms, it is true, but he is a well -grown young fellow, Will
you not have twenty men up from the boat ? 5

Some such thought had passed through the officer's head,
but the captain's remark put him upon his mettle,

" Come with me, corporal," said he, " Down this ladder,
you say ? '

"Yes, down the ladder and straight on. He lies between
those two cloth bales." Ephraim Savage looked up with a
smile playing about the corners of his grim mouth. The
wind was whistling now in the rigging, and the stays of the
mast were humming like two harp strings. Amos Green
lounged beside the French sergeant who guarded the end of

THE START OF THE GOLDEN ROD. 239

the rope ladder, while Tomlinson, the mate, stood with a
bucket of water in his hand exchanging remarks in very bad
French with the crew of the boat beneath him.

The officer made his way slowly down the ladder which
led into the hold, and the corporal followed him, and had
his chest level with the deck when the other had reached
the bottom. It may have been something in Ephraim
Savage's face, or it may have been the gloom around him
which startled the young Frenchman, but a sudden suspicion
flashed into his mind.

" Up again, corporal ! ' he shouted, " I think that you are
best at the top."

" And I think that you are best down below, my friend,"
said the Puritan, who gathered the officer's meaning from
his gesture. Putting the sole of his boot against the man's
chest he gave a shove which sent both him and the ladder
crashing down on to the officer beneath him. As he did so
he blew his whistle, and in a moment the hatch was back in
its place and clamped down on each side with iron bars.

The sergeant had swung round at the sound of the crash,
but Amos Green, who had waited for the movement, threw
his arms about him and hurled him overboard into the sea.
At the same instant the connecting rope was severed, the
foreyard creaked back into position again, and the bucketful
of salt water soused down over the gunner and his gun,
putting out his linstock and wetting his priming. A shower
of balls from the marines piped through the air or rapped up
against the planks, but the boat was tossing and jerking in
the short choppy waves and to aim was impossible. In
vain the men tugged and strained at their oars while the
gunner worked like a maniac to relight his linstock and to
replace his priming. The boat had lost its weigh, while the
brigantine was flying along now with every sail bulging and
swelling to bursting-point. Crack ! went the carronade at
last, and five little slits in the mainsail showed that her

17

240 THE REFUGEES.

charge of grape had flown high. Her second shot left no
trace behind it, and at the third she was at the limit of her
range. Half an hour afterwards a little dark dot upon the
horizon with a golden speck at one end of it was all that
could be seen of the Honfleur guard-boat. Wider and wider
grew the low-lying shores, broader and broader was the vast
spread of blue waters ahead, the smoke of Havre lay like a
little cloud upon the northern horizon, and Captain Ephraim
Savage paced his deck with his face as grim as ever, but
with a dancing light in his gray eyes.

" I knew that the Lord would look after His own," said
he complacently. "We've got her beak straight now and
there's not as much as a dab of mud betwixt this and the
three hills of Boston. You've had too much of these French
wines of late, Amos, lad. Come down and try a real Boston
brewing with a double stroke of malt in the mash tub.*'

24I

CHAPTER XXV.
A BOAT OF THE DEAD.

FOR two days the Golden Rod lay becalmed close to the
Cape La Hague, with the Breton coast extending along the
whole of the southern horizon. On the third morning how-
ever, came a sharp breeze, and they drew rapidly away from
land, until it was but a vague dim line which blended with
the cloud banks. Out there on the wide free ocean, with the
wind on their cheeks and the salt spray pringling upon their
lips, these hunted folk might well through off their sorrows
and believe that they had left for ever behind them all tokens
of those strenuous men whose earnest piety had done more
harm than frivolity and wickedness could have accomplished.
And yet even now they could not shake off their traces, for
the sin of the cottage is bounded by the cottage door, but
that of the palace spreads its evil over land and sea.

" I am frightened about my father, Amory," said Adele,
as they stood together by the shrouds and looked back at the
dim cloud upon the horizon which marked the position of
that France which they were never to see again.

" But he is out of danger now."

"Out of danger from cruel laws, but I fear that he will
never see the promised land."

"What do you mean Adele? My uncle is hale and
hearty."

"Ah, Amory, his very heart roots were fastened in the
Rue St. Martin, and when they were torn his life was torn
also. Paris and his business, they were the world to him."

" But he will accustom himself to this new life."

" If it only could be so ! But I fear, I fear, that he is over

242 THE REFUGEES.

old for such a change. He says not a word of complaint.
But I read upon his face that he is stricken to the heart.
For hours together he will gaze back at France with the
tears running silently down his cheeks. And his hair has
turned from gray to white within the week."

De Catinat also had noticed that the gaunt old Huguenot
had grown gaunter, that the lines upon his stern face were
deeper, and that his head fell forward upon his breast as he
walked. He was about, however, to suggest that the voyage
might restore the merchant's health, when Adele gave a cry
of surprise and pointed out over the port quarter. So beauti-
ful was she at the instant with her raven hair blown back by
the wind, a glow of colour struck into her pale cheeks by the
driving spray, her lips parted in her excitement and one
white hand shading her eyes, that he stood beside her with
all his thoughts bent upon her grace and her sweetness.

" Look ! ' she cried. " There is something floating upon
the sea. I saw it upon the crest of a wave."

He looked in the direction in which she pointed, but at first
he saw nothing. The wind was still behind them, and a
brisk sea was running of a deep rich green colour, with long
creamy curling caps to the larger waves. The breeze would
catch these foam-crests from time to time, and then there
would be a sharp spatter upon the decks, with a salt smack
upon the lips, and a pringling in the eyes. Suddenly as he
gazed, however, something black was tilted up upon the
sharp summit of one of the seas, and swooped out of view
again upon the further side. It was so far from him that he
could make nothing of it, but sharper eyes than his had
caught a glance of it. Amos Green had seen the girl point
and observed what it was which had attracted her attention.

"Captain Ephraim," cried he, "there's a boat on the
starboard quarter."

The New England seaman whipped up his glass and
steadied it upon the bulwark.

A ^0 AT OF THE DEAb.

"Aye, it's a boat," said he, "but an empty one. Maybe
it's been v/ashed off from some ship, or gone adrift from
shore. Put her hard down, Mr. Tomlinson, for it just so
happens that I am in need of a boat at present."

Haifa minute later the Golden Rod had swung round and
was running swiftly down towards the black spot which still
bobbed and danced upon the waves. As they neared her
they could see that something was projecting over her side.

" It's a man s head ! ' cried Amos Green.

But Ephraim Savage's grim face grew grimmer. " It's a
man's foot," said he, " I think that you had best take the
gal below to the cabin,"

Amid a solemn hush they ran alongside this lonely craft
which hung out so sinister a signal. Within ten yards of
her the foreyard was hauled aback and they gazed down
upon her terrible crew.

She was a little thirteen foot cockle-shell, very broad for
her length and so flat in the bottom that she had been meant
evidently for river or lake work. Huddled together beneath
the seats were three folk, a man in the dress of a respectable
artisan, a woman of the same class, and a little child about
a year old. The boat was half full of water and the woman
and child were stretched with their faces downwards, the fair
curls of the infant and the dark locks of the mother washing
to and fro like water-weeds upon the surface. The man lay
with a slate-coloured face, his chin cocking up towards the
sky, his eyes turned upwards to the whites, and his mouth
wide open showing a leathern crinkled tongue like a rotting
leaf. In the bows, all huddled in a heap, and with a single
paddle still grasped in his hand, there crouched a very small
man clad in black, an open book lying across his face, and
one stiff leg jutting upwards with the heel of the foot resting
between the rowlocks. So this strange company swooped
and tossed upon the long green Atlantic rollers.

A boat had been lowered by the Golden Rod, and the

444

unfortunates were soon conveyed upon deck. No particle
of either food or drink was to be found, nor anything save
the single paddle and the open Bible which lay across the
small man's face. Man, woman, and child had all been
dead a day at the least, and so with the short prayers used
upon the seas they were buried from the vessel's side. The
small man had at first seemed also to be lifeless, but Amos
had detected some slight flutter of his heart, and the faintest
haze was left upon the watch glass which was held before
his mouth. Wrapped in a dry blanket he was laid beside
the mast and the mate forced a few drops of rum every
few minutes between his lips until the little spark of life which
still lingered in him might be fanned to a flame. Mean-
while Ephraim Savage had ordered up the two prisoners
whom he had entrapped at Honfleurc Very foolish they looked
as they stood blinking and winking in the daylight from
which they had been so long cut off.

"Very sorry, captain," said the seaman, " but either you
had to come with us, d'ye see, or we had to stay with you.
They're waiting for me over at Boston, and in truth I really
couldn't tarry."

The French soldier shrugged his shoulders and looked
around him with a lengthening face. He and his corporal
were limp with sea-sickness, and as miserable as a French-
man is when first he finds that France has vanished from
his view.

"Which would you prefer, to go on with us to America,
or go back to France ? '

" Back to France, if I can find my way. Oh, I must get to
France again if only to have a word with that fool of a gunner."

"Well, we emptied a bucket of water over his linstock
and priming, d'ye see, so maybe he did all he could. But
there's France, where that thickening is over yonder. '

' I see it ! I see it ! Ah, if my feet were only upon it once
more.'

A 130 AT OF THE D&AD.

" There is a boat beside us, and you may take it."

" My God? what happiness ! Corporal Lemoine, the boat!
Let us push off at once."

" But you need a few things first. Good Lord, who ever
heard of a man pushing off like that! Mr. Tomlinson, just
sling a keg of water and a barrel of meat and of biscuit into
this boat. Hiram Jefferson, bring two oars aft. It's a long
pull with the wind in your teeth, but you'll be there by to-
morrow night, and the weather is set fair."

The two Frenchmen were soon provided with all that they
were likely to require and pushed off with a waving of hats
and a shouting of bon voyage. The foreyard was swung
round again and the Golden Rod turned her bowsprit for the
west. For hours a glimpse could be caught of the boat,
dwindling away on the wave-tops, until at last it vanished
into the haze, and with it vanished the very last link which
connected them with the great world which they were
leaving behind them.

But whilst these things had been done, the senseless man
beneath the mast had twitched his evelids. had drawn a little

r

gasping breath, and then finally had opened his eyes. His
skin was like gray parchment drawn tightly over his bones,
and the limbs which thrust out from his clothes were those
of a sickly child. Yet, weak as he was, the large black eyes
with which he looked about him were full of diernitv and

O ^

power. Old Catinat had come upon deck, and at the sight
of the man and of his dress he had ran forward, and had raised
his head reverentlv and rested it in his own arms.

•

" He is one of the faithful," he cried, " he is one of our pas-
tors. Ah, now indeed a blessing will be upon our journey!

But the man smiled gently and shook his head. " I fear
that I may not come this journey with you/' said he, "for
the Lord has called me upon a further journey of my own.
1 have had my summons and I am ready. I am indeed
the pastor of the temple at Isigny, and when we heard the

THE REFUGEES.

orders of the wicked king, I and two of the faithful with
their little one put forth in the hope that we might come
to England. But on the first day there came a wave which
swept away one of our oars and all that was in the boat,
our bread, our keg, and we were left with no hope save in
Him. And then He began to call us to Him one at a time,
first the child, and then the woman, and then the man, until
I only am left, though I feel that my own time is not long.
But since ye are also of the faithful, may I not serve you
in any way before I go ? '

The merchant shook his head, and then suddenly a
thought flashed upon him, and he ran with joy upon his
face and whispered eagerly to Amos Green. Amos laughed,
and strode across to the captain.

" It's time," said Ephraim Savage grimly.

Then the whisperers went to De Catinat. He sprang in
the air and his eyes shone with delight. And then they
went down to Adele in her cabin, and she started and
blushed, and turned her sweet face away, and patted her
hair with her hands as woman will when a sudden call is
made upon her. And so, since haste was needful, and since
even there upon the lonely sea there was one coming who
might at any moment snap their purpose, they found them-
selves in a few minutes, this gallant man and this pure
woman, kneeling hand in hand before the dying pastor,
who raised his thin arm feebly in benediction as he muttered
the words which should make them forever one.

Adele had often pictured her wedding to herself, as what
young girl has not ? Often in her dreams she had knelt
before the altar with Amory in the temple of the Rue St.
Martin. Or sometimes her fancy had taken her to some of
those smaller churches in the provinces, those little refuges
where a handful of believers gathered together, and it was
there that her thoughts had placed the crowning act of a
woman's life. But when had she thought of such a mar-

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nage as this with the white deck swaying beneath them, the
ropes humming above, their only choristers the gulls which
screamed around them, and their wedding hymn the world-
old anthem which is struck from the waves by the wind ?
And when could she forget the scene ? The yellow masts
and the bellying sails, the gray drawn face and the cracked
lips of the castaway, her father's gaunt earnest features as
he knelt to support the dying minister, De Catinat in his
blue coat, already faded and weather-stained, Captain Savage
with his wooden face turned towards the clouds, and Amos
Green with his hands in his pockets and a quiet twinkle in
his blue eyes ! Then behind all the lanky mate and the
little group of New England seamen with their palmetto
hats and their serious faces !

And so it was done amid kindly words in a harsh foreign
tongue, and the shaking of rude hands hardened by the rope
and the oar. De Catinat and his wife leaned together by
the shrouds when all was over and watched the black side as
it rose and fell, and the green water which raced past them.

" It is all so strange and so new/' she said. " Our future
seems as vague and dark as yonder cloud banks which
gather in front of us."

"If it rest with me," he answered, "your future will be
as merry and bright as the sunlight that glints on the crest
of these waves. The country that drove us forth lies far
behind us, but out there is another and a fairer country, and
every breath of wind wafts us nearer to it. Freedom awaits
us there, and we bear with us youth and love, and what
could man or woman ask for more ? '

So they stood and talked while the shadows deepened into
twilight and the first faint gleam of the stars broke out in
the darkening heavens above them. But ere those stars
had waned again one more toiler had found rest aboard
the Golden Rod, and the scattered flock from Isigny had
found their little pastor once more.

CHAPTER XXVI.
THE LAST PORT.

FOR three weeks the wind kept at east or north-east, always
at a brisk breeze and freshening sometimes into half a gale.
The Golden Rod sped merrily upon her way with every sail
drawing, alow and aloft, so that by the end of the third
week Amos and Ephraim Savage were reckoning out the
hours before they would look upon their native land once
more. To the old seaman who was used to meeting and to
parting it was a small matter, but Amos, who had never
been away before, was on fire with impatience, and would
sit smoking for hours with his legs astride the shank of the
bowsprit, staring ahead at the skyline, in the hope that his
friend's reckoning had been wrong, and that at any moment
he might see the beloved coast line looming up in front of
him.

" It's no use, lad," said Captain Ephraim, laying his great
red hand upon his shoulder. " They that go down to the
sea in ships need a power of patience, and there's no good
eatin' your heart out for what you can't get."

" There's a feel of home about the air, though," Amos
answered. " It seems to whistle through your teeth with a
bite to it that I never felt over yonder. Ah, it will take
three months of the Mohawk Valley before I feel myself to

rights.

IS.''
cc

Well," said his friend, thrusting a plug of Trinidado
tobacco into the corner of his cheek, " I've been on the sea
since I had hair to my face, mostly in the coast trade, d'ye
see, but over the water as well, as far as those navigation
laws would let me. Except the two years that I came

THE LAST PORT. 249

ashore for the King Philip business, when every man that
could carry a gun was needed on the border, I've never been
three casts of a biscuit from salt water, and I tell you that
I never knew a better crossing than the one we have just
made."

''Aye, we have come along like a buck before a forest
fire. But it is strange to me how you find your way so
clearly out here with never track nor trail to guide you. It
would puzzle me, Ephraim, to find America, to say nought
of the Narrows of New York."

" I am somewhat too far to the north, Amos. We
have been on or about the fiftieth since we sighted Cape
La Hague. To-morrow we should make land, by my
reckonin'.'8

" Ah, to-morrow ! And what will it be ? Mount Desert ?
Cape Cod ? Long Island ? "

" Nay, lad, we are in the latitude of the St. Lawrence,
and are more like to see the Arcadia coast. Then with this
wind a day should carry us south, or two at the most. A
few more such voyages and I shall buy myself a fair brick
house in Green Lane of North Boston, where I can look
down on the bay, or on the Charles or the Mystic, and see
the ships comin' and goin'. So I would end my life in
peace and quiet."

All day Amos Green, in spite of his friend's assurance,
strained his eyes in the fruitless search for land, and when
at last the darkness fell he went below and laid out his
fringed hunting tunic, his leather gaiters, and his raccoon-
skin cap, which were very much more to his taste than the
broadcloth coat in which the Dutch mercer of New York
had clad him. De Catinat had also put on the dark coat of
civil life, and he and Adele were busy preparing all things
for the old man who had fallen so weak that there was little
which he could do for himself. A fiddle was screaming in
the forecastle, and half the night through hoarse bursts of

250 THE REFUGEES.

homely song mingled with the dash of the waves and the
whistle of the wind, as the New England men in their own
grave and stolid fashion made merry over their home-
coming.

The mate's watch that night was from twelve to four3 and
the moon was shining brightly for the first hour of it. In
the early morning, however, it clouded over, and the Golden
Rod plunged into one of those dim clammy mists which lie
on all that tract of ocean. So thick was it that from the
poop one could just make out the loom of the foresail, but
could see nothing of the fore-topmast-stay sail or the jib.
The wind was north-east with a very keen edge to it, and
the dainty brigantine lay over, scudding along with her lee
rails within hand's touch of the water. It had suddenly
turned very cold — so cold that the mate stamped up and
down the poop, and his four seamen shivered together under
the shelter of the bulwarks. And then in a moment one of
them was up, thrusting with his forefinger into the air and
screaming, while a huge white wall sprang out of the dark-
ness at the very end of the bowsprit and the ship struck
with a force which snapped her two masts like dried reeds
in a wind, and changed her in an instant to a crushed and
shapeless heap of spars and wreckage.

The mate had shot the length of the poop at the shock,
and had narrowly escaped from the falling mast, while of his
four men two had been hurled through the huge gap which
yawned in the bows, while a third had dashed his head to
pieces against the stock of the anchor. Tomlinson stag-
gered forwards to find the whole front part of the vessel
driven inwards, and a single seaman sitting dazed amid
splintered spars, flapping sails and writhing, lashing cordage.
It was still as dark as pitch, and save the white crest of a
leaping wave nothing was to be seen beyond the side of the
vessel. The mate was peering round him in despair at the
ruin which had come so suddenly upon them when he found

THE LAST PORT. 251

Captain Ephraim at his elbow, half clad, but as wooden and
as serene as ever.

" An iceberg," said he, sniffing at the chill air. " Did
you not smell it, friend Tomlinson ? '

" Truly I found it cold, Captain Savage, but I set it down
to the mist."

"There is a mist ever set around them, though the Lord
in His wisdom knows best why, for it is a sore trial to poor
sailor men. She makes water fast, Mr. Tomlinson. She is
down by the bows already."

The other watch had swarmed upon deck and one of
them was measuring the well. "There is three feet of
water," he cried, " and the pumps sucked dry yesterday
at sundown."

" Hiram Jefferson and John Moreton to the pumps ! '
cried the captain. " Mr. Tomlinson, clear away the long
boat and let us see if we may set her right, though I fear
that she is past mending."

" The long boat has stove two planks," cried a seaman.

"The jolly boat, then?"

" She is in three pieces."

The mate tore his hair, but Ephraim Savage smiled like a
man who is gently tickled by some coincidence.

" Where is Amos Green ? '

" Here, Captain Ephraim. What can I do ? '

" And I ? 1 asked De Catinat eagerly. Adele and her
father had been wrapped in mantles and placed for shelter
in the lee of the round house.

"Tell him he can take his spell at the pumps," said the
captain to Amos. " And you, Amos, you are a handy man
with a tool. Get into yonder long boat with a lantern and
see if you cannot patch her up."

For half an hour Amos Green hammered and trimmed
and caulked, while the sharp measured clanking of the
pumps sounded above the dash of the seas. Slowly, very

252 THE REFUGEES.

slowly the bows of the brigantine were settling down, and
her stern cocking up.

" You've not much time, Amos, lad," said the captain
quietly.

" She'll float now, though she's not quite water-tight."

" Very good. Lower away ! Keep up the pumpin' there !
Mr. Tomlinson, see that provisions and water are ready, as
much as she will hold. Come with me, Hiram Jefferson."

The seaman and the captain swung themselves down
into the tossing boat, the latter with a lantern strapped to
his waist. Together they made their way until they were
under her mangled bows. The captain shook his head
when he saw the extent of the damage.

11 Cut away the foresail and pass it over," said he.

Tomlinson and Amos Green cut away the lashings with
their knives and lowered the corner of the sail. Captain
Ephraim and the seaman seized it, and dragged it across
the mouth of the huge gaping leak. As he stooped to do it,
however, the ship heaved up upon a swell and the captain
saw in the yellow light of his lantern sinuous black cracks
which radiated away backwards from the central hole.

" How much in the well ? " he asked.

"Five and a half feet."

" Then the ship is lost. I could put my finger between
her planks as far as I can see back. Keep the pumps going
there ! Have you the food and water, Mr. Tomlinson ? '

" Here, sir."

" Lower them over the bows. This boat cannot live more
than an hour or two. Can you see anything of the berg ? '

" The fog is lifting on the starboard quarter," cried one of
the men. " Yes, there is the berg, quarter of a mile to
leeward ! r

The mist had thinned away suddenly, and the moon
glimmered through once more upon the great lonely sea and
the stricken ship. There, like a huge sail, was the monster

THE LAST PORT.

piece of ice upon which they had shattered themselves,
rocking slowly to and fro with the wash of the waves.

"You must make for her," said Captain Ephraim. "There
is no other chance. Lower the gal over the bows! Well,
then, her father first, if she likes it better. Tell them to
sit still, Amos, and that the Lord will bear us up if we
keep clear of foolishness. So ! You're a brave lass for all
your niminy-piminy lingo. Now the keg and the barrel,
and all the wraps and cloaks you can find. Now the other
man, the Frenchman. Aye, aye, passengers first and you
have got to come. Now, Amos ! Now the seamen, and you
last, friend Tomlinson."

It was well that they had not very far to go, for the boat
was weighed down almost to the edge, and it took the
bailing of two men to keep in check the water which leaked
in between the shattered planks. When all were safely in
their places, Captain Ephraim Savage swung himself aboard
again, which was but too easy now that every minute
brought the bows nearer to the water. He came back with
a bundle of clothing which he threw into the boat.
"Push off!" he cried.
"Jump in, then."

" Ephraim Savage goes down with his ship," said he
quietly. " Friend Tomlinson, it is not my way to give
my orders more than once. Push off, I say ! '

The mate thrust her out with a boat-hook. Amos and De
Catinat gave a cry of dismay, but the stolid New Englanders
settled down to their oars and pulled off for the iceberg.

" Amos ! Amos ! Will you suffer it ? ' cried the guards-
man in French. " My honour will not permit me to leave
him thus. I should feel it a stain forever."

" Tomlinson, you would not leave him ! Go on board and
force him to come."

" The man is not living who could force him to do what

he had no mind for.",

18

REFUGEES.

li He may change his purpose."

" He never changes his purpose."

" But you cannot leave him, man ! You must at least lie
by and pick him up."

"The boat leaks like a sieve," said the mate. "I will
take her to the berg, leave you all there, if we can find foot-
ing, and go back for the captain. Put your heart into it,
my lads, for the sooner we are there the sooner we shall get
back."

But they had not taken fifty strokes before Adele gave a
sudden scream.

" My God ! ' she cried, " the ship is going down ! '

She had settled lower and lower in the water, and sud-
denly with a sound of rending planks she thrust down her
bows like a diving water-fowl, her stern flew up into the air,
and with a long sucking noise she shot down swifter and
swifter until the leaping waves closed over her high poop
lantern. With one impulse the boat swept round again and
made backwards as fast as willing arms could pull it. But
all was quiet at the scene of the disaster. Not even a frag-
ment of wreckage was left upon the surface to show where
the Golden Rod had found her last harbour. For a long
quarter of an hour they pulled round and round in the moon-
light, but not a glimpse could they see of the Puritan seaman,
and at last, when in spite of the balers the water was wash-
ing round their ankles, they put her head about once more
and made their way in silence and with heavy hearts to their
dreary island of refuge.

Desolate as it was, it was their only hope now, for the
leak was increasing and it was evident that the boat could
not be kept afloat long. As they drew nearer they saw
with dismay that the side which faced them was a solid
vrall of ice sixty feet high without a flaw or crevice in its
whole extent. The berg was a large one, fifty paces at
least each way, and there was a hope that the other side

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THE LAST PORT. 255

might be more favourable. Baling hard they paddled round
the corner, but only to find themselves faced by another
gloomy ice-crag. Again they went round, and again they
found that the berg increased rather than diminished in
height. There remained only one other side, and they knew
as they rowed round to it that their lives hung upon the
result, for the boat was almost settling down beneath them.
They shot out from the shadow into the full moonlight and
looked upon a sight which none of them would forget until
their dying day.

The cliff which faced them was as precipitous as any of
the others, and it glimmered and sparkled all over where
the silver light fell upon the thousand facets of ice. Right
in the centre, however, on a level with the water's edge,
there was what appeared to be a huge hollowed-out cave
which marked the spot where the Golden Rod had, in shat-
tering herself, dislodged a huge boulder, and so amid her
own ruin prepared a refuge for those who had trusted them-
selves to her. This cavern was of the richest emerald green,
light and clear at the edges, but toning away into the deepest
purples and blues at the back. But it was not the beauty
of this grotto, nor was it the assurance of rescue which
brought a cry of joy and of wonder from every lip, but it
was that, seated upon an ice boulder and placidly smoking
a long corn-cob pipe, there was perched in front of them
no less a person than Captain Ephraim Savage of Boston.
For a moment the castaways could almost have believed
that it was his wraith, were wraiths ever seen in so homely
an attitude, but the tones of his voice very soon showed
that it was indeed he, and in no very Christian temper
either.

"Friend Tomlinson," said he, "when I tell you to row
for an iceberg I mean you to row right away there, d'ye see,
and not to go philandering about over the ocean. It's not
your fault that I am not froze, and so I would have been if I

256 THE REFUGEES.

hadn't some dry tobacco and my tinder-box to keep myself

warm."

Without stopping to answer his commander's reproaches
the mate headed for the ledge, which had been cut into a
slope by the bows of the brigantine, so that the boat was run
up easily on to the ice. Captain Savage seized his dry
clothes and vanished into the back of the cave, to return
presently warmer in body, and more contented in mind.
The long boat had been turned upside down for a seat, the
gratings and thwarts taken out and covered with wraps to
make a couch for the lady, and the head knocked out of the
keg of biscuits.

11 We were frightened for you, Ephraim," said Amos
Green. " I had a heavy heart this night when I thought
that I should never see you more."

"Tut, Amos, you should have known me better."

" But how come you here, captain ? ' asked Tomlinson.
" I thought that maybe you had been taken down by the
suck of the ship."

" And so I was. It is the third ship in which I have
gone down, but they have never kept me down yet. I went
deeper to-night than when the Speedwell sank, but not so
deep as in the Governor Winthrop. When I came up I
swam to the berg, found this nook, and crawled in. Glad I
was to see you, for I feared that you had foundered."

"We put back to pick you up and we passed you in the
darkness. And what should we do now ? '

" Rig up that boat-sail and make quarters for the gal.
Then get our supper and such rest as we can, for there is
nothing to be done to-night, and there may be much in the
morning."

257

CHAPTER XXVI.
A DWINDLING ISLAND.

AMOS GREEN was aroused in the morning by a hand upois
his shoulder, and springing to his feet, found De Catinat
standing beside him. The survivors of the crew were
grouped about the upturned boat, slumbering heavily after
their labours of the night. The red rim of the sun had just
pushed itself above the water-line, and sky and sea were
one blaze of scarlet and orange from the dazzling gold of
the horizon to the lightest pink at the zenith. The first
rays flashed directly into their cave, sparkling and glimmer-
ing upon the ice crystals and tinging the whole grotto with
a rich warm light. Never was a fairy's palace more lovely
than this floating refuge which Nature had provided for
them.

But neither the American nor the Frenchman had time
now to give a thought to the novelty and beauty of their
situation. The latter's face was grave, and his friend read
danger in his eyes.

"What is it, then?"

"The berg. It is coming to pieces."

"Tut, man, it is as solid as an island."

" I have been watching it. You see that crack which
extends backwards from the end of our grotto. Two hours
ago I could scarce put my hand into it. Now I can slip
through it with ease. I tell you that she is splitting across.1'

Amos Green walked to the end of the funnel-shaped
recess and found, as his friend had said, that a green
sinuous crack extended away backwards into the iceberg,
caused either by the tossing of the waves, or by the terrific

258 THE REFUGEES.

impact of their vessel. He roused Captain Ephraim and
pointed out the danger to him.

" Well, if she springs a leak we are gone," said he.
" She's been thawing pretty fast as it is."

They could see now that what had seemed in the moon-
light to be smooth walls of ice were really furrowed and
wrinkled like an old man's face by the streams of melted
water which were continually running down them. The
whole huge mass was brittle and honey-combed and rotten.
Already they could hear all round them the ominous drip,
drip, and the splash and tinkle of the little rivulets as they
fell into the ocean.

" Hullo ! " cried Amos Green, " what's that ? "
"What then?"
" Did you hear nothing ?
" No."

" I could have sworn that I heard a voice."
" Impossible. We are all here."
" It must have been my fancy then."

Captain Ephraim walked to the seaward face of the cave
and swept the ocean with his eyes. The wind had quite
fallen away now, and the sea stretched away to the eastward,
smooth and unbroken save for a single great black spar
which floated near the spot where the Golden Rod had
foundered.

" We should lie in the track of some ships," said the cap-
tain thoughtfully. There's the codders and the herring-
busses. We're over far south for them, I reckon. But we
can't be more'n two hundred mile from Port Royal in Ar-
cadia, and we're in the line of the St. Lawrence trade. If
I had three white mountain pines, Amos, and a hundred yards
of stout canvas I'd get up on the top of this thing, d'yd see,
and I'd rig such a jury-mast as would send her humming
into Boston Bay. Then I'd break her up and sell her for
what she was worth; and turn a few pieces over the business

A DWINDLING ISLAND. 259

But she's a heavy old craft, and that's a fact, though even
now she might do a knot or two an hour if she had a hurri-
cane oehind her. But what is it, Amos ? '

The young hunter was standing with his ear slanting, his
head bent forwards, and his eyes glancing sideways, like a
man who listens intently. He was about to answer when
De Catinat gave a cry and pointed to the back of the cave.

" Look at the crack now."

It had widened by a foot since they had noticed it last,
until it was now no longer a crack. It was a pass.

" Let us go through," said the captain.

" It can but come out on the other side."

" Then let us see the other side."

He led the way and the other two followed him. It was
very dark as they advanced with high dripping ice walls on
either side, and one little zigzagging slit of blue sky above
their heads. Tripping and groping their way they stumbled
along until suddenly the passage grew wider and opened
out into a large square of flat ice. The berg was level in
the centre and sloped upwards from that point to the high
cliffs which bounded it on each side. In three directions
this slope was very steep, but in one it slanted up quite
gradually, and the constant thawing had grooved the surface
with a thousand irregularities by which an active man could
ascend. With one impulse they began all three to clamber
up until a minute later they were standing not far from the
edge of the summit, seventy feet above the sea, with a view
which took in a good fifty miles of water. In all that fifty
miles there was no sign of life, nothing but the endless glint
of the sun upon the waves.

Captain Ephraim whistled. "We are out of luck," said
he.

Amos Green looked about him with startled eyes. " I

cannot understand it," said he. "I could have sworn =•

By the eternal, listen to that ! '

260 THE REFUGEES.

The clear call of a military bugle rang out in the morning
air. With a cry of amazement they all three craned forward
and peered over the edge.

A large ship was lying under the very shadow of the ice-
berg. They looked straight down upon her snow white
decks, fringed with shining brass cannon, and dotted with
seamen. A little clump of soldiers stood upon the poop
going through the manual exercise, and it was from them
that the call had come which had sounded so unexpectedly
in the ears of the castaways. Standing back from the edge
they had not only looked over the topmasts of this welcome
neighbour, but they had themselves been invisible from her
decks. Now the discovery was mutual, as was shown by a
chorus of shouts and cries from beneath them.

But the three did not wait an instant. Sliding and
scrambling down the wet, slippery incline, they rushed
shouting through the crack and into the cave where their
comrades had just been startled by the bugle call while in
the middle of their cheerless breakfast. A few hurried words
and the leaky long boat had been launched, their possessions
had been bundled in, and they were afloat once more.
Pulling round a promontory of the berg, they found them-
selves under the stern of a fine corvette, the sides of which
were lined with friendly faces, while from the peak there
drooped a huge white banner mottled over with the golden
lilies of France. In a very few minutes their boat had been
hauled up and they found themselves on board the St.
Christophe man-of-war, conveying Marquis de Denonville,
the new Governor-General of Canada, to take over his
duties,

2t5l

CHAPTER XXVIII.

.*

IN THE POOL OF QUEBEC.

A SINGULAR colony it was of which the shipwrecked party
found themselves now to be members. The St. Christophe
had left Rochelle three weeks before with four small consorts
conveying five hundred soldiers to help the struggling
colony on the St. Lawrence. The squadron had become
separated, however, and the governor was pursuing his way
alone in the hope of picking up the others in the river.
Aboard he had a company of the regiment of Quercy, the
staff of his own household, Saint Vallier, the new Bishop of
Canada, with several of his attendants, three Recollet friars,
and five Jesuits bound for the fatal Iroquois mission, half a
dozen ladies on their way out to join their husbands, two
Ursuline nuns, ten or twelve gallants whom love of
adventure and the hope of bettering their fortunes had
drawn across the seas, and lastly some twenty peasant
maidens of Anjou who were secure of finding husbands
waiting for them upon the beach, if only for the sake of the
sheets, the pot, the tin plates and the kettle which the king
would provide for each of his humble wards.

To add a handful of New England Independents, a
Puritan of Boston, and three Huguenots to such a gathering,
was indeed to bring fire-brand and powder-barrel together.
And yet all aboard were so busy with their own concerns
that the castaways were left very much to themselves.
Thirty of the soldiers were down with fever and scurvy, and
both priests and nuns were fully taken up in nursing them.
Denonville, the governor, a pious-minded dragoon, walked
the deck all day reading the Psalms of David, and sat up

262 THE REFUGEES.

half the night with maps and charts laid out before him,
planning out the destruction of the Iroquois who were
ravaging his dominions. The gallants and the ladies flirted,
the maidens of Anjou made eyes at the soldiers of Quercy
and the bishop Saint Vallier read his offices and lectured his
clergy. Ephraim Savage used to stand all day glaring at the
good man as he paced the deck with his red-edged missal in
his hand, and muttering about the " abomination of desola-
tion," but his little ways were put down to his exposure
upon the iceberg, and to the fixed idea in the French mind
that men of the Anglo-Saxon stock are not to be held
accountable for their actions.

There was peace between England and France at present,
though feeling ran high between Canada and New York,
the French believing, and with some justice, that the English
colonists were whooping on the demons who attacked them,
Ephraim and his men were therefore received hospitably on
board, though the ship was so crowded that they had to
sleep wherever they could find cover and space for their
bodies. The Catinats, too, had been treated in an even
more kindly fashion, the weak old man and the beauty of
his daughter arousing the interest of the governor himself.
De Catinat had, during the voyage, exchanged his uniform
for a plain sombre suit, so that, except for his military
bearing, there was nothing to show that he was a fugitive
from the army. Old Catinat was now so weak that he was
past the answering of questions, his daughter was forever
at his side, and the soldier was diplomatist enough, after a
training at Versailles, to say much without saying anything,
and so their secret was still preserved. De Catinat had
known what it was to be a Huguenot in Canada before the
law was altered. He had no wish to try it after.

On the day after the rescue they sighted Cape Breton in
the south, and soon running swiftly before an easterly wind,
saw the loom of the east end of Anticosti. Then they sailed

IN THE POOL OF QUEBEC. 263

up the mighty river, though from mid-channel the banks
upon either side were hardly to be seen. As the shores
narrowed in, they saw the wild gorge of the Saguenay River
upon the right, with the smoke from the little fishing and
trading station of Tadousac streaming up above the pine
trees. Naked Indians with their faces daubed with red clay,
Algonquins and Abenakis, clustered round the ship in their
birchen canoes with fruit and vegetables from the land
which brought fresh life to the scurvy-stricken soldiers.
Thence the ship tacked on up the river past Mai Bay, the
Ravine of the Eboulements and the Bay of St. Paul with
its broad valley and wooded mountains all in a blaze with
their beautiful autumn dress, their scarlets, their purples,
and their golds, from the maple, the ash, the young oak,
and the saplings of the birch. Amos Green, leaning on the
bulwarks, stared with longing eyes at these vast expanses
of virgin woodland, hardly traversed save by an occasional
wandering savage, or hardy coureur-de-bois. Then the bold
outline of Cape Tourmente loomed up in front of them ;
they passed the rich placid meadows of Laval's seigneury of
Beaupre, and, skirting the settlements of the Island of
Orleans, they saw the broad pool stretch out in front of
them, the falls of Montmorenci, the high palisades of Cape
Levi, the cluster of vessels, and upon the right that wonder-
ful rock with its diadem of towers and its township huddled
round its base, the centre and stronghold of French power
in America. Cannon thundered from the bastions above,
and were echoed back by the warship, while ensigns dipped,
hats waved, and a swarm of boats and canoes shot out to
welcome the new governor, and to convey the soldiers and
passengers to shore.

The old merchant had pined away since he had left French
soil, like a plant which has been plucked from its roots. The
shock of the shipwreck and the night spent in their bleak
refuge upon the iceberg had been too much for his years and

264 THE REFUGEES.

strength. Since they had been picked up he had lain amid
the scurvy-stricken soldiers with hardly a sign of life save
for his thin breathing and the twitching of his scraggy throat.
Now, however, at the sound of the cannon and the shouting
he opened his eyes, and raised himself slowly and painfully
upon his pillow.

" What is it, father ? What can we do for you ? " cried
Adele. " We are in America, and here is Amory and here
am I, your children."

But the old man shooK his head. " The Lord has brought
me to the promised land, but He has not willed that I should
enter into it," said he. " May His will be done, and blessed
be His name forever ! But at least I should wish, like Moses,
to gaze upon it, if I cannot set foot upon it. Think you, Amory,
that you could lend me your arm and lead me on to the deck ? "
" If I have another to help me," said De Catinat, and,
ascending to the deck, he brought Amos Green back with
him. " Now, father, if you will lay a hand upon the shoulder
of each, you need scarce put your feet to the boards."

A minute later the old merchant was on deck, and the
two young men had seated him upon a coil of rope with his
back against the mast, where he should be away from the
crush. The soldiers were already crowding down into the
boats, and all were so busy over their own affairs that they
paid no heed to the little group of refugees who gathered
round the stricken man. He turned his head painfully from
side to side, but his eyes brightened as they fell upon the
broad blue stretch of water, the flash of the distant falls, the
high castle, and the long line of purple mountains away to
the north-west.

" It is not like France," said he. "It is not green and
peaceful and smiling, but it is grand and strong and stern
like Him who made it. As I have weakened, Adele, my
soul has been less clogged by my body, and I have seen
clearly much that has been dim to me. And it has seemed

THE POOL OF QUEBEC. 265

to me, my children, that all this country of America, not
Canada alone, but the land where you were born also, Amos
Green, and all that stretches away towards yonder setting
sun, will be the best gift of God to man. For this has He
held it concealed through all the ages, that now His own
high purpose may be wrought upon it. For here is a land
which is innocent, which has no past guilt to atone for, no
feud, nor ill custom, nor evil of any kind. And as the years
roll on all the weary and homeless ones, all who are stricken
and landless and wronged, will turn their faces to it, even as
we have done. And hence will come a nation which will
surely take all that is good and leave all that is bad, mould-
ing and fashioning itself into the highest. Do I not see
such a mighty people— a people who will care more to raise
their lowest than to exalt their richest — who will understand
that there is more bravery in peace than in war, who will
see that all men are brothers, and whose hearts will not
narrow themselves down to their own frontiers, but will
warm in sympathy with every noble cause the whole world
through ? That is what I see, Adele, as I lie here beside a
shore upon which I shall never set my feet, and I say to
you that if you and Amory go to the building of such a
nation then indeed your lives are not misspent. It will come,
and when it comes, may God guard it, may God watch over
it and direct it ! ' His head had sunk gradually lower upon
his breast and his lids had fallen slowly over his eyes which
had been looking away out past Point Levi at the rolling
woods and the far-off mountains. Adele gave a quick cry of
despair and threw her arms round the old man's neck.

" He is dying, Amory, he is dying ! ' she cried.

A stern Franciscan friar, who had been telling his beads
within a few paces of them, heard the cry and was beside
them in an instant.

•" He is indeed dying," he said, as he gazed down at the ashen
face. " Has the old man had the sacraments of the Church ? "

266 THE REFUGEES.

" I do not think that he needs them," answered De Catinat
evasively.

"Which of us do not need them, young man ! ' said the
friar sternly. " And how can a man hope for salvation with-
out them ! I shall myself administer them without delay.''

But the old Huguenot had opened his eyes, and with a
last flicker of strength he pushed away the gray-hooded
figure which bent over him.

" I left all that I love rather than yield to you," he cried,
" and think you that you can overcome me now ? '

The Franciscan started back at the words, and his hard
suspicious eyes shot from De Catinat to the weeping girl.

" So ! ' said he. " You are Huguenots, then ! '

" Hush ! Do not wrangle before a man who is dying! '
cried De Catinat in a voice as fierce as his own.

" Before a man who is dead," said Amos Green solemnly.

As he spoke the old man's face had relaxed, his thousand
wrinkles had been smoothed suddenly out, as though an in-
visible hand had passed over them, and his head fell back
against the mast. Adele remained motionless with her
arms still clasped round his neck and her cheek pressed
against his shoulder. She had fainted.

De Catinat raised his wife and bore her down to the cabin
of one of the ladies who had already shown them some kind-
ness. Deaths were no new thing aboard the ship, for they
had lost ten soldiers upon the outward passage, so that amid
the joy and bustle of the disembarking there were few who
had a thought to spare upon the dead pilgrim, and the less
so when it was whispered abroad that he had been a Hugue-
not. A brief order was given that he should be buried in the
river that very night, and then, save for a sailmaker who
fastened the canvas round him, mankind had done its last for
Theophile Catinat. With the survivors, however, it was
different, and when the troops were all disembarked, they were
mustered in a little group upon the deck, and an officer of

IN THE POOL OF QUEBEC. 267

the governor's suite decided upon what should be done with
them. He was a portly, good-humoured, ruddy-cheeked man,
but De Catinat saw with apprehension that the friar walked by
his side as he advanced along the deck, and exchanged a few
whispered remarks with him. There was a bitter smile upon
the monk's dark face which boded little good for the heretics.

11 It shall be seen to, good father, it shall be seen to," said the
officer impatiently, in answer to one of these whispered injunc-
tions. " I am as zealous a servant of Holy Church as you are."

" I trust that you are, Monsieur de Bonneville. With so
devout a governor as Monsieur de Denonville, it might be
an ill thing even in this world for the officers of his house-
hold to be lax."

The soldier glanced angrily at his companion, for he saw
the threat which lurked under the words.

"I would have you remember, father," said he, "that if
faith is a virtue, charity is no less so." Then, .speaking in
English : " Which is Captain Savage ? "

" Ephraim Savage of Boston."

" And Master Amos Green ? '

" Amos Green of New York."

" And Master Tomlinson ? '

"John Tomlinson of Salem." V

"And master mariners Hiram Jefferson, Joseph Cooper,
Seek-grace Spaulding, and Paul Gushing, all of Massachu-
setts Bay ? "

"We are all here."

" It is the governor's order that all whom I have named
shall be conveyed at once to the trading brig Hope, which is
yonder ship with the white paint line. She sails within the
hour for the English provinces."

A buzz of joy broke from the castaway mariners at« the
prospect of being so speedily restored to their homes, and
they hurried away to gather together the few possessions
which they_had saved from the wreck. The officer put his

'9

268 THE REFUGEES.

list in his pocket and stepped across to where De Catinat
leaned moodily against the bulwarks.

" Surely you remember me," he said. " I could not forget
your face, even though you have exchanged a blue coat for
a black one."

De Catinat grasped the hand which was held out to him.

" I remember you well, De Bonneville, and the journey
that we made together to Fort Frontenac, but it was not for
me to claim your friendship, now that things have gone
amiss with me."

"Tut, man, once my friend always my friend."

" I feared, too, that my acquaintance would do you little good
with yonder dark-cowled friar who is glowering behind you.^

" Well, well, you know how it is with us here. Frontenac
could keep them in their place, but De la Barre was as clay in
their hands, and this new one promises to follow in his steps.
What with the Sulpitians at Montreal and the Jesuits here,
we poor devils are between the upper and the nether stones.
But I am grieved from my heart to give such a welcome as
this to an old comrade, and still more to his wife."

" What is to be done, then ? '

" You are to be confined to the ship until she sails, which
will be in a week at the furthest."

"And then ?"

"You are to be carried home in her, and handed over to
the Governor of Rochelle to be sent back to Paris. Those
are Monsieur de Denonville's orders, and if they be not
carried out to the letter, then we shall have the whole
hornet's nest about our ears."

De Catinat groaned as he listened. After all their
strivings and trials and efforts, to return to Paris, the scorn
of his enemies, and an object of pity to his friends, was too
deep a humiliation. He flushed with shame at the very
thought. To be led back like the home-sick peasant who
has deserted from his regiment ! Better one spring into

IN THE POOL OF QUEBEC. 269

the broad blue river beneath him, were it not for little pale-
faced Adele who had none but him to look to. It was so
tame ! So ignominious ! And yet in this floating prison,
with a woman whose fate was linked with his own, what
hope \vas there of escape ?

De Bonneville had left him, with a few blunt words of
sympathy, but the friar still paced the deck with a furtive
glance at him from time to time, and two soldiers who were
stationed upon the poop passed and repassed within a few
yards of him. They had orders evidently to mark his move-
ments. Heart-sick he leaned over the side watching the
Indians in their paint and feathers shooting backwards and
forwards in their canoes, and staring across at the town
where the gaunt gable ends of houses and charred walls
marked the effect of the terrible fire which a few years
before had completely destroyed the lower part.

As he stood gazing, his attention was drawn away by the
swish of oars, and a large boat full of men passed im-
mediately underneath where he stood.

It held the New Englanders who were being conveyed to
the ship which was to take them home. There were the
four seamen huddled together, and there in the sheets were
Captain Ephraim Savage and Amos Green, conversing to-
gether and pointing to the shipping. The grizzled face of
the old Puritan and the bold features of the woodsman were
turned more than once in his direction, but no word of fare-
well and no kindly wave of the hand came back to the lonely
exile. They were so full of their own future and their own
happiness, that they had not a thought to spare upon his
misery. He could have borne anything from his enemies,
but this sudden neglect from his friends came too heavily
after his other troubles. He stooped his face to his arms
and burst in an instant into a passion of sobs. Before he raised
his eyes again the brig had hoisted her anchor, and was
tacking under full canvas out of the Quebec basin.

270

CHAPTER XXIX.
THE VOICE AT THE PORT-HOLE.

THAT night old Theophile Catinat was buried from the
p's side, his sole mourners the two who bore his own
blood in their veins. The next day De Catinat spent upon
deck, amid the bustle and confusion of the unlading^ en-
deavouring to cheer Adele by light chatter which came from
a heavy heart. He pointed out to her the places which he
had known so well, the citadel where he had been quartered.
the college of the Jesuits, the cathedral of Bishop Laval,
the magazine of the old company, dismantled by the great
.. and the house of Aubert de la Chesnaye, the only
- .rate one which had remained standing in the lower part.
From where they lay they could see not only the places oi
erest, but something also of that motley population which
maiz the town so different to all others save only its younger
ter. Montreal. Passing and re: ~.g along the stc
- :h the picket fence which connected the h , quart-.
•: the whole panorama of Canadian life moving be-
.:r eyes, the soldiers with their slouched hats, their
es, and their bandoleers, habitant- from the river cotes
in theii rode peasant dresses, little changed fire m their fore-
fat .- : Bi or Xorrr.ir. iy, and young rufflers from
France or from the S€ -ries, ... -id their hats
and -. .-jered in what they thought to be the true Ver-
tuon Th~:e. I e . en little knot of
. n of the w: - ; -

ating tunics, fi I fur cap

the citi
leaving their 1 . ind c ire Mne ._.-cour-

THE VOICE AT THE PORT-HOLE. 2*1

wig^vam. Redskins, too, \vere there, leather-faced Algonquin
fishers and hunters, wild Micmacs from the east, and savage
Abenakis from the south, while everywhere were the dark
habits of the Franciscans, and the black cassocks and broad
hats of the Recollets, and Jesuits, the moving spirits of the
whole.

Such were the folk who crowded the streets of the capital
of this strange offshoot of France which had been planted
along the line of the great river, a thousand leagues from
the parent country. And it was a singular settlement, the
most singular perhaps that has ever been made. For a
long twelve hundred miles it extended, from Tadousac in
the east, away to the trading stations upon the borders of
the great lakes, limiting itself for the most part to narrow
cultivated strips upon the margins of the river, banked in
behind by wild forests and unexplored mountains which
forever tempted the peasant from his hoe and his plough to
the freer life of the paddle and the musket. Thin scattered
clearings, alternating with little palisaded clumps of log
hewn houses, marked the line where civilisation was forcing
itself in upon the huge continent, and barely holding its
own against the rigour of a northern climate and the ferocity
of merciless enemies. The whole white population of this
mighty district, including soldiers, priests, and woodmen,
with all women and children, was verv far short of twentv

. »

thousand souls, and yet so great was their energy, and such
the advantage of the central government under which they
lived, that they had left their trace upon the whole continent.
When the prosperous English settlers were content to live
upon their acres, and when no axe had rung upon the
further side of the Alleghanies, the French had pushed the::
daring pioneers, some in the black robe of the missionary.
and some in the fringed tunic of the hunter, to the uttermost
ends of the continent. They had mapped out the lakes and
had bartered with the fierce Sioux on the great plains where

THE REFUGEES.

the wooden wigwam gave place to the hide tee-pee., Mar-
quette had followed the Illinois down to the Mississippi,
and had traced the course of the great river until, first of all
white men, he looked upon the turbid flood of the rushing
Missouri. La Salle had ventured even farther, had passed
the Ohio, and had made his way to the Mexican Gulf,
raising the French arms where the city of New Orleans was
afterwards to stand. Others had pushed on to the Rocky
Mountains, and to the huge wilderness of the north-west,
preaching, bartering, cheating, baptising, swayed by many
motives and holding only in common a courage which never
faltered and a fertility of resource which took them in safety
past every danger. Frenchmen were to the north of the
British settlements, Frenchmen were to the west of them,
and Frenchmen were to the south of them, and if all the
continent is not now French, the fault assuredly did not rest
with that iron race of early Canadians,

All this De Catinat explained to Adele during the autumn
day, trying to draw her thoughts away from the troubles oi
the past, and from the long dreary voyage which lay before
her. She, fresh from the staid life of the Parisian street
and from the tame scenery of the Seine, gazed with amaze-
ment at the river, the woods and the mountains, and clutched
her husband's arm in horror when a canoeful of wild skin-
clad Algonquins, their faces striped with white and red
paint, came flying past with the foam dashing from their
paddles. Again the river turned from blue to pink, again
the old citadel was bathed in the evening glow, and again
the two exiles descended to their cabins with cheering words
for each other and heavy thoughts in their own hearts.

De Catinat's bunk was next to a port-hole, and it was his
custom to keep this open, as the caboose was close to him
in which the cooking was done for the crew, and the air
was hot and heavy. That night he found it impossible to
sleep, and he lay tossing under his blanket, thinking over

fttn VOICE A? ME PORT. HOLS.

every possible means by which they might be able to get
away from this cursed ship. But even if they got away,
where could they go to then ? All Canada was sealed to
them. The woods to the south were full of ferocious
Indians. The English settlements would, it was true, grant
them freedom to use their own religion, but what would his
wife and he do, without a friend, strangers among folk who
spoke another tongue ? Had Amos Green remained true to
them, then, indeed, all would have been well. But he had
deserted them. Of course there was no reason why he
should not. He was no blood relation of theirs. He had
already benefited them many times. His own people and
the life that he loved were waiting for him at home. Why
should he linger here for the sake of folk whom he had
known but a few months ? It was not to be expected, and
yet De Catinat could not realise it, could not understand it.

But what was that ? Above the gentle lapping of the
river he had suddenly heard a sharp clear "Hist!" Perhaps
it was some passing boatman or Indian. Then it came
again, that eager, urgent summons. He sat up and stared
about him. It certainly must have come from the open port-
hole. He looked out, but only to see the broad basin, with
the loom of the shipping, and the distant twinkle from the
lights on Point Levi. As his head dropped back upon the
pillow something fell upon his chest with a little tap, and
rolling off, rattled along the boards. He sprang up, caught
a lantern from a hook and flashed it upon the floor. There
was the missile which had struck him — a little golden brooch.
As he lifted it up and looked closer at it, a thrill passed
through him. It had been his own, and he had given it to
Amos Green upon the second day that he had met him,
when they were starting together for Versailles.

This was a signal then, and Amos Green had not deserted
them after all. He dressed himself, all in a tremble with
excitement, and went upon deck. It was pitch dark, and he

REFUGEES.

could see no one, but the sound of regular footfalls
where in the fore part of the ship showed that the sentinels
were still there. The guardsman walked over to the side
and peered down into the darkness. He could see the loom
of a boat.

" Who is there ? ' he whispered.

" Is that you, De Catinat ? "

"Yes."

" We have come for you."

" God bless you, Amos."

"Is your wife there ? '

" No, but I can rouse her."

" Good ! But first catch this cord. Now pull up the
ladder ! "

De Catinat gripped the line which was thrown to him,
and on drawing it up found that it was attached to a rope
ladder furnished at the top with two steel hooks to catch on
to the bulwarks. He placed them in position, and then
made his way very softly to the cabin amidships in the
ladies' quarters which had been allotted to his wife. She
was the only woman aboard the ship now, so that he was
able to tap at her door in safety, and to explain in a few
words the need for haste and for secrecy. In ten minutes
Adele had dressed, and with her valuables in a little bundle,
had slipped out from her cabin. Together they made their
way upon deck once more and crept aft under the shadow of
the bulwarks. They were almost there when De Catinat
stopped suddenly and ground out an oath through his
clenched teeth. Between them and the rope ladder there
was standing in a dim patch of murky light the grim figure
of a Franciscan friar. He was peering through the dark-
ness, his heavy cowl shadowing his face, and he advanced
slowly as if he had caught a glimpse of them. A lantern
hung from the mizzen shrouds above him. He unfastened
it and held it up to cast its light upon them.

ftiE VOICE AT THE PORT-HOLE.

But De Catinat was not a man with whom it was safe to
trifle. His life had been one of quick resolve and prompt
action. Was this vindictive friar at the last moment to
stand between him and freedom ? It was a dangerous
position to take. The guardsman pulled Adele into the
shadow of the mast, and then, as the monk advanced, he
sprang out upon him and seized him by the gown. As he
did so the other's cowl was pushed back, and instead of the
harsh features of the ecclesiastic, De Catinat saw with
amazement in the glimmer of the lantern the shrewd gray
eyes and strong stern face of Ephraim Savage. At the
same instant another figure appeared over the side, and the
warm-hearted Frenchman threw himself into the arms of
Amos Green.

" It's all right," said the young hunter, disengaging
himself with some embarrassment from the other's embrace.

"We've got him in the boat with a buckskin glove jammed
into his gullet ! 7>

"Who then? »

" The man whose cloak Captain Ephraim there has put
round him. He came on us when you were away rousing
your lady, but we got him to be quiet between us. Is the
lady there ? "

" Here she is."

"As quick as you can, then, for some one may come
along."

Adele was helped over the side, and seated in the stern
of a birch-bark canoe. The three men unhooked the ladder,
and swung themselves down by a rope, while two Indians,
who held the paddles, pushed silently off from the ship's
side, and shot swiftly up the stream. A minute later a dim
loom behind them, and the glimmer of two yellow lights,
was all that they could see of the St. Christophe.

"Take a paddle, Amos, and I'll take one," said Captain
Savage, stripping off his monk's gown. " I felt safer in

THE REFUGEES.

this on the deck of yon ship, but it don't help in a boat. I
believe we might have fastened the hatches and taken her,
brass guns and all, had we been so minded."

" And been hanged as pirates at the yard-arm next morn-
ing," said Amos. " I think we have. done better to take the
honey and leave the tree. I hope, madame, that all is well
with you."

" Nay, I can hardly understand what has happened, or
where we are."

" Nor can I, Amos.''

" Did you not expect us to come back for you, then ? '

" I did not know what to expect."

" Well, now, but surely you could not think that we
would leave you without a word.''

4< I confess that I was cut to the heart by it.''

" I feared that you were when I looked at you with the
tail of my eye, and saw you staring so blackly over the
bulwarks at us. But if we had been seen talking or plan-
ning they would have been upon our trail at once. As it
was they had not a thought of suspicion, save only this
fellow whom we have in the bottom of the boat here."

" And what did you do ? "

" We left the brig last night, got ashore on the Beaupre*
side, arranged for this canoe, and lay dark all day. Then
to-night we got alongside and I roused you easily, for I
knew where you slept. The friar nearly spoiled all when
you were below, but we gagged him and passed him over
the side. Ephraim popped on his gown so that he might
go forward to help you without danger, for we were scared
at the delay."

" Ah ! it is glorious to be free once more. What do I not
owe you, Amos ? "

"Well, you looked after me when I was in your country,
and I am going to look after you now."

" And where are we going ? '

THE VOICE AT THE PORT-HOLE. 277

" Ah ! there you have me. It is this way or none, for we
can't get down to the seac We must make our way over
land as best we can, and we must leave a good stretch
between Quebec citadel and us before the day breaks, for
from what I hear they would rather have a Huguenot
prisoner than an Iroquois sagamore. By the eternal, I
cannot see why they should make such a fuss over how a
man chooses to save his own soul, though here is old
Ephraim just as fierce upon the other side, so all the folly is
not one way,/'

"What are you saying about me?' asked the seaman,
pricking up his ears at the mention of his own name.

" Only that you are a good stiff old Protestant."

"YesP thank Godc My motto is freedom to conscience,
d'ye see, except just for Quakers, and Papists, and — and I
wouldn't stand Anne Hutchinsons and women testifying,
and such like foolishness/1'

Amos Green laughedc " The Almighty seems to pass it
over,, so why should you take it to heart ? ' said he.

" Ah, you're young and callow yet. You'll live to know
better. Why, I shall hear you saying a good word soon,
even for such unclean spawn as this," prodding the prostrate
friar with the handle of his paddle.

" I daresay he's a good man, accordin' to his lights."

" And I daresay a shark is a good fish accordin' to its
lights. No, lad, you won't mix up light and dark for me in
that sort of fashion. You may talk until you unship your
jaw, d'ye see, but you will never talk a foul wind into a fair
one. Pass over the pouch and the tinder-box, and maybe
our friend here will take a turn at my paddle."

All night they toiled up the great river, straining every
nerve to place themselves beyond the reach of pursuit. By
keeping well into the southern bank, and so avoiding the
force of the current, they sped swiftly along, for both
Amos and De Catinat were practised hands with the paddle,

278 THE REFUGEES.

and the two Indians worked as though they were wire and
whipcord instead of flesh and blood. An utter silence
reigned over all the broad stream, broken only by the lap-
lap of the water against their curving bow, the whirring of
the night hawk above them, and the sharp high barking of
foxes away in the woods. When at last morning broke, and
the black shaded imperceptibly into gray, they were far out
of sight of the citadel and of all trace of man's handiwork^
Virgin woods in their wonderful many-coloured autumn
dress flowed right down to the river edge on either side and
in the centre was a little island with a rim of yellow sand
and an out-flame of scarlet tupelo and sumach in one bright
tangle of colour in the centre.

" I've passed here before," said De Catinat. " I remember
marking that great maple with the blaze on its trunk, when
last I went with the governor to Montreal. That was in
Frontenac's day, when the king was first and the bishop
second."

The redskins, who had sat like terra-cotta figures without
a trace of expression upon their set hard faces, pricked up
their ears at the sound of that name.

" My brother has spoken of the great Onontio," said one
of them, glancing round. "We have listened to the whist-
ling of evil birds who tell us that he will never come back to
his children across the seas."

" He is with the great white father," answered De Catinat.
" I have myself seen him in his council, and he will assuredly
come across the great water if his people have need of him."

The Indian shook his shaven head.

" The rutting month is past, my brother," said he, speak-
ing in broken French, " but ere the month of the bird laying
has come there will be no white man upon this river save
only behind stone walls."

" What, then ? We have heard little ! Have the Iroquois
broken out so fiercely ? "

THE VOICE AT THE PORT -HOLE. 279

. .

My brother, they said that they would eat up the Hurons,
and where are the Hurons now ? They turned their faces
upon the Eries, and where are the Eries now ? They went
westward against the Illinois, and who can find an Illinois
village ? They raised the hatchet against the Andastes,
and their name is blotted from the earth. And now they
have danced a dance and sung a song which will bring
little good to my white brothers."

" Where are they, then ? '

The Indian waved his hand along the whole southern and
western horizon.

" Where are they not ? The woods are rustling with
them. They are like a fire among dry grass, so swift and
so terrible ! '

" On my life," said De Catinat, " if these devils are indeed
unchained, they will need old Frontenac back if they are not
to be swept into the river."

" Aye," said Amos, " I saw him once when I was brought
before him with the others for trading on what he called
French ground. His mouth set like a skunk trap and he
looked at us as if he would have liked our scalps for his
leggings. But I could see that he was a chief and a brave
man."

" He was an enemy of the Church, and the right hand of
the foul fiend in this country," said a voice from the bottom
of the canoe.

It was the friar who had succeeded in getting rid of the
buckskin glove and belt with which the two Americans
had gagged him. He was lying huddled up now, glaring
savagely at the party with his fiery dark eyes.

" His jaw-tackle has come adrift," said the seaman,
" Let me brace it up again."

" Nay, why should we take him farther ? ' asked Amos.
" He is but weight for us to carry, and I cannot see that
we profit by his company. Let us put him out."

28o THE REFUGEES.

"Aye, sink or swim," cried old Ephraim with enthusiasm.

" Nay, upon the bank."

"And have him maybe in front of us warning the black
jackets."

" On that island, then."

"Very good. He can hail the first of his folk who pass."

They shot over to the island and landed the friar, who
said nothing, but cursed them with his eye. They left with
him a small supply of biscuit and of flour to last him until
he should be picked up. Then, having passed a bend in the
river, they ran their canoe ashore in a little cove where the
whortleberry and cranberry bushes grew right down to the
water's edge, and the sward was bright with the white
euphorbia, the blue gentian, and the purple balm. There
they laid out their small stock of provisions, and ate a
hearty breakfast while discussing what their plans should
be for the future.

CHAPTER XXX
THE INLAND WATERS.

THEY were not badly provided for their journey. The cap-
tain of the Gloucester brig in which the Americans had
started from Quebec knew Ephraim Savage well, as who
did not upon the New England coast ? He had accepted
his bill therefore at three months' date, at as high a rate of
interest as he could screw out of him, and he had let him
have in return three excellent guns, a good supply of am-
munition, and enough money to provide for all his wants.
In this way he had hired the canoe and the Indians, and
had fitted her with meat and biscuit to last them for ten
days at the least.

" It's like the breath of life to me to feel the heft of a gun
and to smell the trees round me," said Amos. "Why, it
cannot be more than a hundred leagues from here to Albany
or Schenectady, right through the forest."

" Aye, lad, but how is the gal to walk a hundred leagues
through a forest. No, no, let us keep water under our keel,
and lean on the Lord."

"Then there is only one way for it. We must make the
Richelieu River, and keep right along to Lake Champlain
and Lake St. Sacrament. There we should be close by the
headwaters of the Hudson."

" It is a dangerous road," said De Catinat, who under-
stood the conversation of his companions, even when he
was unable to join in it. "We should need to skirt the
country of the Mohawks."

" It's the only way, I guess. It's that or nothing."

" And I have a friend upon the Richelieu River who, I am

20

THE REFUGEES.

sure, would help us on our way," said De Catinat with a
smile. " Adele, you have heard me talk of Charles de la
Noue, seigneur de Sainte Marie ? '

" He whom you used to call the Canadian duke, Amory ? ':

" Precisely. His seigneury lies on the Richelieu, a little
south of Fort St. Louis, and I am sure that he would speed
us upon our way."

" Good ! " cried Amos. " If we have a friend there we
shall do well. That clenches it then, and we shall hold fast
by the river. Let's get to our paddles then, for that friar
will make mischief for us if he can."

And so for a long week the little party toiled up the great
water-way, keeping ever to the southern bank where there
were fewer clearings. On both sides of the stream the woods
were thick, but every here and there they would curve away,
and a narrow strip of cultivated land would skirt the bank
with the yellow stubble to mark where the wheat had grown.
Adele looked with interest at the wooden houses with their
jutting stories and quaint gable-ends, at the solid, stone-built
manor-houses of the seigneurs, and at the mills in every
hamlet, which served the double purpose of grinding flour,
and of a loopholed place of retreat in case of attack. Hor-
rible experience had taught the Canadians what the English
settlers had yet to learn, that in a land of savages it is a folly
to place isolated farm-houses in the centre of their own fields.
The clearings then radiated out from the villages, and every
cottage was built with an eye to the military necessities of
the whole, so that the defence might make a stand at all
points, and might finally centre upon the stone manor-house
and the mill. Now at every bluff and hill near the villages
might be seen the gleam of the muskets of the watchers, for
it was known that the scalping parties of the Five Nations
were out, and none could tell where the blow would fall,
save that it must come where they were least prepared to
meet it.

THE INLAND WATERS

Indeed, at every step in this country, whether the traveller
were on the St. Lawrence, or west upon the lakes, or down
upon the banks of the Mississippi, or south in the country
of the Cherokees and of the Creeks, he would still find the
inhabitants in the same state of dreadful expectancy, and
from the same cause. The Iroquois, as they were named by
the French, or the Five Nations as they called themselves?
hung like a cloud over the whole great continent. Their
confederation was a natural one, for they were of the same
stock and spoke the same language, and all attempts to-
separate them had been in vain. Mohawks, Cayugas,
Onondagas, Oneidas and Senecas were each proud of their
own totems and their own chiefs, but in war they were Iro-
quois, and the enemy of one was the enemy of all. Their
numbers were small, for they were never able to put two
thousand warriors in the field, and their country was limited,
for their villages were scattered over the tract which lies
between Lake Champlain and Lake Ontario. But they were
united, they were cunning, they were desperately brave, and
they were fiercely aggressive and energetic. Holding a
central position they struck out upon each side in turn,
never content with simply defeating an adversary but abso-
lutely annihilating and destroying him, while holding all the
others in check by their diplomacy. War was their business,
and cruelty their amusement. One by one they had turned
their arms against the various nations, until, for a space of
over a thousand square miles, none existed save by suffer-
ance. They had swept away Hurons and Huron missions
in one fearful massacre. They had destroyed the tribes of
the north-west, until even the distant Sacs and Foxes
trembled at their name. They had scoured the whole
country to westward until their scalping parties had come
into touch with their kinsmen the Sioux, who were lords of
the great plains, even as they were of the great forests.
The New England Indians in the east, and the Shawnees

284 THE REFUGEES.

and Delawares farther south, paid tribute to them, and the
terror of their arms had extended over the borders of Mary-
land and Virginia. Never, perhaps, in the world's history
has so small a body of men dominated so large a district
and for so long a time.

For half a century these tribes had nursed a grudge to-
wards the French since Champlain and some of his fol-
lowers had taken part with their enemies against them.
During all these years they had brooded in their forest
villages, flashing out now and again in some border out-
rage, but waiting for the most part until their chance should
come. And now it seemed to them that it had come. They
had destroyed all the tribes who might have allied them-
selves with the white men. They had isolated themc They
had supplied themselves with good guns and plenty of am-
munition from the Dutch and English of New York. The
long thin line of French settlements lay naked before them.
They were gathered in the woods, like hounds in leash,
waiting for the orders of their chiefs, which should precipi-
tate them with torch and with tomahawk upon the belt of
villages.

Such was the situation as the little party of refugees
paddled along the bank of the river, seeking the only path
which could lead them to peace and to freedom. Yet it was,
as they well knew, a dangerous road to follow. All down
the Richelieu River were the outposts and blockhouses of
the French, for when the feudal system was grafted upon
Canada the various seigneurs or native noblesse were
assigned their estates in the positions which would be of
most benefit to the settlement. Each seigneur with his
tenants under him, trained as they were in the use of arms,
formed a military force exactly as they had done in the
middle ages, the farmer holding his fief upon condition that
he mustered when called upon to do so. Hence the old
officers of the regiment of Carignan, and the more hardy of

THE INLAND WATERS. 285

the settlers, had been placed along the line of the Richelieu,
which runs at right angles to the St. Lawrence towards the
Mohawk country. The blockhouses themselves might hold
their own, but to the little party who had to travel down
from one to the other the situation was full of deadly peril.
It was true that the Iroquois were not at war with the Eng-
lish, but they would discriminate little when on the warpath,
and the Americans, even had they wished to do so, could
not separate their fate from that of their two French com-
panions.

As they ascended the St. Lawrence they met many canoes
coming down. Sometimes it was an officer or an official on
his way to the capital from Three Rivers or Montreal, some-
times it was a load of skins, with Indians or coureurs-de-
bois conveying them down to be shipped to Europe, and
sometimes it was a small canoe which bore a sunburned
grizzly-haired man, with rusty weather-stained black cassock,
who zigzagged from bank to bank, stopping at every Indian
hut upon his way. If aught were amiss with the Church in
Canada the fault lay not with men like these village priests,
who toiled and worked and spent their very lives in bearing
comfort and hope, and a little touch of refinement too,
through all those wilds. More than once these wayfarers
wished to have speech with the fugitives, but they pushed
onwards, disregarding their signs and hails. From below
nothing overtook them, for they paddled from early morning
until late at night, drawing up the canoe when they halted,
and building a fire of dry wood, for already the nip of the
coming winter was in the air.

It was not only the people and their dwellings which
were stretched out before the wondering eyes of the French
girl as she sat day after day in the stern of the canoe, Her
husband and Amos Green taught her also to take notice of
the sights of the woodlands, and as they skirted the bank,
they pointed out a thousand things which her own senses

286 THE REFUGEES.

would never have discerned. Sometimes it was the furry
face of a raccoon peeping out from some tree-cleft, or an
otter swimming under the overhanging brushwood with the
gleam of a white fish in its mouth. Or, perhaps, it was the
wild cat crouching along a branch with its wicked yellow
eyes fixed upon the squirrels which played at the farther
end, or else with a scuttle and rush the Canadian porcupine
would thrust its way among the yellow blossoms of the resin
weed and the tangle of the whortleberry bushes. She
learned, too, to recognise the pert sharp cry of the tiny
chick-a-dee, the call of the bluebird, and the flash of its
wings amid the foliage, the sweet chirpy note of the black
and white bobolink, and the long-drawn mewing of the cat-
bird. On the breast of the broad blue river, with Nature's
sweet concert ever sounding from the bank, and with every
colour that artist could devise spread out before her eyes on
the foliage of the dying woods, the smile came back to her
lips and her cheeks took a glow of health which France had
never been able to give. De Catinat saw the change in her,
but her presence weighed him down with fear, for he knew
that while Nature had made these woods a heaven, man had
changed it into a hell, and that a nameless horror lurked
behind all the beauty of the fading leaves and of the wood-
land flowers. Often as he lay at night beside the smoulder-
ing fire upon his couch of spruce thought, and looked at the
little figure muffled in the blanket and slumbering peacefully
by his side, he felt that he had no right to expose her to such
peril, and that in the morning they should turn the canoe
eastward again and take what fate might bring them at
Quebec. But ever with the daybreak there came the thought
of the humiliation, the dreary homeward voyage, the separa-
tion which would await them in galley and dungeon, to turn
him from his purpose.

On the seventh day they rested at a point but a few miles
from the mouth of the Richelieu River, where a large block-

THE INLAND WATERS. 287

house, Fort Richelieu, had been built by M. de Saurel.
Once past this they had no great distance to go to reach the
seigneury of De Catinat's friend of the noblesse who would
help them upon their way. They had spent the night upon
a little island in midstream, and at early dawn they were
about to thrust the canoe out again from the sand-lined cove
in which she lay, when Ephraim Savage growled in his
throat and pointed out across the water.

A large canoe was coming up the river, flying along as
quick as a dozen arms could drive it. In the stern sat a
dark figure which bent forward with every swing of the
paddles, as though consumed by eagerness to push on-
wards. Even at that distance there was no mistaking
it. It was the fanatical monk whom they had left behind
them.

Concealed among the brushwood they watched their pur-
suers fly past and vanish round a curve in the stream. Then
they looked at one another in perplexity.

" We'd have done better either to put him overboard or to
take him as ballast," said Ephraim. " He's hull down in
front of us now, and drawing full."

" Well, we can't take the back track anyhow," remarked
Amos.

" And yet how can we go on ?" said De Catinat despond-
ently. " This vindictive devil will give word at the fort and
at every other point along the river. He has been back to
Quebec. It is one of the governor's own canoes, and goes
three paces to our two."

" Let me cipher it out." Amos Green sat on a fallen
maple with his head sunk upon his hands. " Well," said he
presently, " if it's no good going on, and no good going
back, there's only one way, and that is to go to one side.
That's so, Ephraim, is it not? ''

" Aye, aye, lad, if you can't run you must tack, but it
seems shoal water on either bow."

288 THE REFUGEES.

11 We can't go to the north, so it follows that we must go
to the south."

" Leave the canoe ? '

" It's our only chance. We can cut through the woods
and come out near this friendly house on the Richelieu.
The friar will lose our trail then, and we'll have no more
trouble with him, if he stays on the St. Lawrence."

" There's nothing else for it," said Captain Ephraim
ruefully. " It's not my way to go by land if I can get by
water, and I have not been a fathom deep in a wood since
King Philip came down on the province, so you must lay
the course and keep her straight, Amos."

" It is not far and it will not take us long. Let us get
over to the southern bank and we shall make a start. If
madame tires, De Catinat, we shall take turns to carry her."

"Ah, monsieur, you cannot think what a good walker I
am. In this splendid air one might go on forever."

" We will cross then."

In a very few minutes they were at the other side and
had landed at the edge of the forest. There the guns and
ammunition were allotted to each man, and his share of the
provisions and of the scanty baggage. Then having paid
the Indians, and having instructed them to say nothing of
their movements, they turned their backs upon the river
and plunged into the silent woods.

CHAPTER XXXI.

THE HAIRLESS MAN.

ALL day they pushed on through the woodlands, walking
in single file, Amos Green first, then the seaman, then the
lady, and De Catinat bringing up the rear. The young
woodsman advanced cautiously, seeing and hearing much
that was lost to his companions, stopping continually and
examining the signs of leaf and moss and twig. Their
route lay for the most part through open glades amid a
huge pine forest, with a green sward beneath their feet,
made beautiful by the white euphorbia, the golden rod, and
the purple aster. Sometimes, howrever, the great trunks
closed in upon them, and they had to grope their way in
a dim twilight, or push a path through the tangled brush-
wood of green sassafras or scarlet sumach. And then again
the woods would shred suddenly away in front of them,
and they would skirt marshes, overgrown with wild rice and
dotted with little dark clumps of alder bushes, or make their
way past silent woodland lakes, all streaked and barred
with the tree shadows which threw their crimsons and
clarets and bronzes upon the fringe of the deep blue sheet
of water. There were streams, too, some clear and rippling,
where the trout flashed and the king-fisher gleamed, others
dark and poisonous from the tamarack swramps, where the
wanderers had to wade over their knees and carry Adele in
their arms. So all day they journeyed 'mid the great forests,
with never a hint or token of their fellow-man.

But if man were absent, there was at least no want of
life. It buzzed and chirped and chattered all round them
from marsh and stream and brushwood. Sometimes it was

290 THE REFUGEES.

the dun coat of a deer which glanced between the distant
trunks, sometimes the badger which scuttled for its hole at
their approach. Once the long in-toed track of a bear lay
marked in the soft earth before them, and once Amos picked
a great horn from amid the bushes which some moose had
shed the month before. Little red squirrels danced and
clattered above their heads and every oak was a choir with
a hundred tiny voices piping from the shadow of its foliage.
As they passed the lakes the heavy gray stork flapped up
in front of them, and they saw the wild duck whirring off
in a long V against the blue sky, or heard the quavering cry
of the loon from amid the reeds.

That night they slept in the woods, Amos Green lighting
a dry wood fire in a thick copse where at a dozen paces it
was invisible. A few drops of rain had fallen, so with the
quick skill of the practised woodsman he made two little sheds
of elm and basswood bark, one to shelter the two refugees,
and the other for Ephraim and himself. He had shot a wild
goose, and this, with the remains of their biscuit, served
them both for supper and for breakfast. Next day at noon
they passed a little clearing, in the centre of which were the
charred embers of a fire. Amos spent half an hour in
reading all that sticks and ground could tell him. Then, as
they resumed their way, he explained to his companions
that the fire had been lit three weeks before, that a white
man and two Indians had camped there, that they had been
journeying from west to east, and that one of the Indians
had been a squaw. No other traces of their fellow-mortals
did they come across, until late in the afternoon Amos
halted suddenly in the heart of a thick grove, and raised his
hand to his ear.

" Listen ! ':' he cried.

" I hear nothing,' said Ephraim.

" Nor I," added De Catinat.

';Ah? but I do ! " cried Adele gleefully. "It is a bell-

ADVANCING THROUGH THp FOREST-

HAIRLESS MAN.

and at the very time of day when the bells all sound in
Paris! '

"You are right, madame. It is what they call the
Angelas bell. '

"Ah, yes, I hear it now! " cried De Catinat. " It was
drowned by the chirping of the birds. But whence comes a
bell in the heart of a Canadian forest ?

" We are near the settlements on the Richelieu. It must
be the bell of the chapel at the fort."

" Fort Sto Louis ! Ah, then, we are no great way from
my friend's seigneury."

"Then we may sleep there to-night, if you think that he
is indeed to be trusted."

il Yes. He is a strange man, with ways of his own, but I
would trust him with my life."

" Very good. We shall keep to the south of the fort and
make for his house. But something is putting up the birds
over yonder. Ah, I hear the sound of steps ! Crouch down
here among the sumach, until we see who it is who walks
so boldly through the woods."

They stooped all four among the brushwood, peeping out
between the tree trunks at a little glade towards which
Amos was looking. For a long time the sound which the
quick ears of the woodsman had detected was inaudible to
the others, but at last they too heard the sharp snapping of
twigs as some one forced his passage through the under-
growth. A moment later a man pushed his way into the
open, whose appearance was so strange and so ill suited to
the spot, that even Amos gazed upon him with amazement.

He was a very small man, so dark and weather stained
that he might have passed for an Indian were it not that he
walked and was clad as no Indian had ever been. He wore
a broad-brimmed hat, frayed at the edges, and so discoloured
that it was hard to say what its original tint had been. His
dress was of skins, rudely cut and dangling loosely from his

THE REFUGEES.

body, and he wore the high boots of a dragoon, as tattered
and stained as the rest of his raiment. On his back he bore
a huge bundle of canvas with two long sticks projecting
irom it, and under each arm he carried what appeared to be
a large square painting.

" He's no Injun," whispered Amos, "and he's no woods-
man either. Blessed if I ever saw the match of him ! "

" He s neither voyageur, nor soldier, nor coureur-de-bois^
said De Catinat.

" Pears to me to have a jurymast rigged upon his back,
and fore and main staysails set under each of his arms/'
said Captain Ephraim.

" Well, he seems to have no consorts, so we may hail
him without fear/'

They rose from their ambush, and as they did so the
stranger caught sight of them. Instead of showing the
uneasiness which any man might be expected to feel at
suddenly finding himself in the presence of strangers in such
a country he promptly altered his course and came towards
them. As he crossed the glade, however, the sounds of the
distant bell fell upon his ears, and he instantly whipped off
his hat and sunk his head in prayer. A cry of horror rose,
not only from Adele but from everyone of the party, at the
sight which met their eyes.

The top of the man s head was gone. Not a vestige of
hair or of white skin remained, but in place of it was a
dreadful crinkled discoloured surface with a sharp red line
running across his brow and round over his ears.

" By the eternal ! " cried Amos, " the man has lost his
scalp ! "

" My God ! " said De Catinat. " Look at his hands ! "

He had raised them in prayer. Two or three little stumps
projecting upwards showed where the fingers had been.

" I've seen some queer figureheads in my life, but never
one like that," said Captain Ephraim.

ti AIRLESS MAN. 293

It was indeed a most extraordinary face which confronted
them as they advanced. It was that of a man who might
have been of any age and of any nation, for the features were
so distorted that nothing could be learned from them. One
eyelid was drooping with a puckering and flatness which
showed that the ball was gone. The other, however, shot
as bright and merry and kindly a glance as ever came from
a chosen favourite of fortune. His face was flecked over
with peculiar brown spots which had a most hideous appear-
ance, and his nose had been burst and shattered by some
terrific blow. And yet, in spite of this dreadful appearance,
there was something so noble in the carriage of the man, in
the pose of his head and in the expression which still hung,
like the scent from a crushed flower, round his distorted
features, that even the blunt Puritan seaman was awed by
it.

" Good evening, my children," said the stranger, picking
up his pictures again and advancing towards them. " I
presume that you are from the fort, though I may be per-
mitted to observe that the woods are not very safe for ladies
at present."

" We are going to the manor-house of Charles de la Noue
at Sainte Marie," said De Catinat, " and we hope soon to be
in a place of safety. But I grieve, sir, to see how terribly
you have been mishandled."

" Ah, you have observed my little injuries, then ! They
know no better, poor souls. They are but mischievous
children — merry-hearted but mischievous. Tut, tut, it is
laughable indeed that a man's vile body should ever clog
his spirit, and yet here am I full of the will to push forward,
and yet I must even seat myself on this log and rest myself,
for the rogues have blown the calves of my legs off."

" My God ! Blown them off ! The devils ! "

" Ah, but they are not to be blamed. No, no, it would be
uncharitable to blame them. They are ignorant poor folk,

294 THE REFUGEES.

and the prince of darkness is behind them to urge them on.
They sank little charges of powder into my legs and then
they exploded them, which makes me a slower walker than
ever, though I was never very brisk. * The Snail ' was what
I was called at school in Tours, yes, and afterwards at the
seminary I was always ' the Snail.'

" Who are you then, sir, and who is it who has used you
so shamefully ? ?:i asked De Catinat.

" Oh, I am a very humble person. I am Ignatius Morat,
of the Society of Jesus, and as to the people who have used
me a little roughly, why, if you are sent upon the Iroquois
mission, of course you know what to expect. I have
nothing at all to complain of. Why, they have used me
very much better than they did Father Jogues, Father
Brebceuf, and a good many others whom I could mention.
There were times, it is true, when I was quite hopeful of
martyrdom, especially when they thought my tonsure was
too small, which was their merry way of putting it. But I
suppose I was not worthy of it ; indeed I know that I was
not, so it only ended in just a little roughness."

"Where are you going then?' asked Amos, who had
listened in amazement to the man's words.

" I am going to Quebec. You see I am such a useless
person that, until I have seen the bishop, I can really do no
good at all."

"You mean that you will resign your mission into the
bishop's hands ? ' said De Catinat.

" Oh, no. That would be quite the sort of thing which I
should do if I were left to myself, for it is incredible how
cowardly I am. You would not think it possible that a
priest of God could be so frightened as I am sometimes.
The mere sight of a fire makes me shrink all into myself
ever since I went through the ordeal of the lighted pine
splinters, which have left all these ugly stains upon my face.
But then, of course, there is the Order to be thought of, and

FATHER IGNATIUS MORAT.

21

THE HAIRLESS MAN. 295

members of the Order do not leave their posts for trifling
causes. But it is against the rules of Holy Church that a
maimed man should perform the rites, and so, until I have
seen the bishop and had his dispensation, I shall be even
more useless than ever."

11 And what will you do then ? '

"Oh, then, of course, I will go back to my flock."'

" To the Iroquois ! '

" That is where I am stationed."

" Amos," said De Catinat, " I have spent my life among
brave men, but I think that this is the bravest man that I
have ever met ! '

" On my word," said Amos, " I have seen some good
men, too, but never one that I thought was better than this.
You are weary, father. Have some of our cold goose, and
there is still a drop of cognac in my flask."

" Tut, tut, my son, if I take anything but the very simplest
living it makes me so lazy that I become a snail indeed."

" But you have no gun and no food. How do you live ? "

" Oh, the good God has placed plenty of food in these
forests for a traveller who dare not eat very much. I have
had wild plums, and wild grapes, and nuts and cranberries,
and a nice little dish of tripe-de-mere from the rocks."

The woodsman made a wry face at the mention of this
delicacy.

" I had as soon eat a pot of glue," said he. " But what
is this which you carry on your back?'1

" It is my church. Ah, I have everything here, tent,
altar, surplice, everything. I cannot venture to celebrate
service myself without the dispensation, but surely this
venerable man is himself in orders and will solemnise the
most blessed function."

Amos with a sly twinkle of the eyes translated the pro-
posal to Ephraim, who stood with his huge red hands
clenched, mumbling about tne saltless pottage of papacy.

296 THE REFUGEES.

De Catinat replied briefly, however, that they were all of
the laity, and that if they were to reach their destination
before nightfall, it was necessary that they should push on.

" You are right, my son," said the little Jesuit. " These
poor people have already left their villages and in a few
days the woods will be full of them, though I do not think
that any have crossed the Richelieu yet. There is one
thing, however, which I would have you do for me."

"And what is that? "

" It is but to remember that I have left with Father Lam-
berville at Onondaga the dictionary which I have made of
the Iroquois and French languages. There also is my
account of the copper mines of the Great Lakes which I
visited two years ago, and also an orrery which I have
made to show the northern heavens with the stars of each
month as they are seen from this meridian. If aught were
to go amiss with Father Lamberville or with me, and we do
not live very long on the Iroquois mission, it would be well
that some one else should profit from my work."

" I will tell my friend to-night. But what are these great
pictures, father, and why do you bear them through the
wood ? J> He turned them over as he spoke, and the whole
party gathered round them, staring in amazement.

They were very rough daubs, crudely coloured and gaudy.
In the first, a red man was reposing serenely upon what
appeared to be a range of mountains, with a musical instru-
ment in his hand, a crown upon his head, and a smile upon
his face. In the second, a similar man was screaming at
the pitch of his lungs, while half a dozen black creatures
were battering him with poles and prodding him with
lances.

" It is a damned soul and a saved soul," said Father
Ignatius Morat, looking at his pictures with some satisfac-
tion. " These are clouds upon which the blessed spirit re-
clines, basking in all the joys of paradise. It is well done

THE HAIRLESS MAN. 297

this picture, but it has had no good effect, because there are
no beaver in it and they have not painted in a tobacco-pipe.
You see they have little reason, these poor folk, and so we
have to teach them as best we can through their eyes and
their foolish senses. This other is better. It has converted
several squaws and more than one Indian. I shall not
bring back the saved soul when I come in the spring, but I
shall bring five damned souls, which will be one for each
nation. We must fight Satan with such weapons as we
can get you see. And now, my children, if you must go,
let me first call down a blessing upon you ! '

And then occurred a strange thing, for the beauty of this
man's soul shone through all the wretched clouds of sect,
and, as he raised his hand to bless them, down went those
Protestant knees to earth, and even old Ephraim found
himself with a softened heart and a bent head listening to
the half understood words of this crippled, half-blinded, little

stranger.

" Farewell, then," said he, when they had risen. "May
the sunshine of Saint Eulalie be upon you, and may Saint
Anne of Beaupre shield you at the moment of your danger."

And so they left him, a grotesque and yet heroic figure
staggering along through the woods with his tent, his
pictures and his mutilation. If the Church of Rome should
ever be wrecked it may come from her weakness in high
places, where all Churches are at their weakest, or it may be
because with what is very narrow she tries to explain that
which is very broad, but assuredly it will never be through
the fault of her rank and file, for never upon earth have
men and women spent themselves more lavishly and more
splendidly than in her service.

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE LORD OF SAINTE MARIE.

LEAVING Fort St. Louis, whence the bells had sounded, upon
their right, they pushed onwards as swiftly as they could, for
the sun was so low in the heavens that the bushes in the
clearings threw shadows like trees. Then suddenly as they
peered in front of them between the trunks, the green of the
sward turned to the blue of the water, and they saw a broad
river running swiftly before them. In France it would have
seemed a mighty stream, but, coming fresh from the vastness
of the St. Lawrence, their eyes were used to great sheets of
water. But Amos and De Catinat had both been upon the
bosom of the Richelieu before, and their hearts bounded as
they looked upon it, for they knew that this was the straight
path which led them, the one to home, and the other to
peace and freedom. A few days' journeying down there, a
few more along the lovely island-studded lakes of Champlain
and Saint Sacrament, under the shadow of the tree-clad
Adirondacks, and they would be at the headquarters of the
Hudson, and their toils and their dangers be but a thing of
gossip for the winter evenings.

Across the river was the terrible Iroquois country, and at
two points they could see the smoke of fires curling up into
the evening air. They had the Jesuit's word for it that none
of the war-parties had crossed yet, so they followed the track
which led down the eastern bank. As they pushed onwards,
however, a stern military challenge suddenly brought them
to a stand, and they saw the gleam of two musket barrels
which covered them from a thicket overlooking the path.

""We are friends," cried De Catinat.

THE LORD OF SAlNTE MARIE. 299

" Whence come you, then ? ' asked an invisible sentinel.

" From Quebec."

" And whither are you going ? '

"To visit Monsieur Charles de la Noue, seigneur of
Sainte Marie."

"Very good. It is quite safe, Du Lhut. They have a
lady with them, too. I greet you, madame, in the name of
my father."

Two men had emerged from the bushes, one of whom
might have passed as a full-blooded Indian, had it not been
for these courteous words which he uttered in excellent
French. He was a tall slight young man, very dark, with
piercing black eyes, and a grim square relentless mouth
which could only have come with Indian descent. His
coarse flowing hair was gathered up into a scalp-lock, and
the eagle feather which he wore in it was his only head-
gear. A rude suit of fringed hide with cariboo-skin mocas-
sins might have been the fellow to the one which Amos
Green was wearing, but the gleam of a gold chain from his
belt, the sparkle of a costly ring upon his finger, and the
delicate richly-inlaid musket which he carried, all gave a
touch of grace to his equipment. A broad band of yellow
ochre across his forehead and a tomahawk at his belt added
to the strange inconsistency of his appearance.

The other was undoubtedly a pure Frenchman, elderly,
dark and wiry, with a bristling black beard and a fierce eager
face. He, too, was clad in hunter's dress, but he wore a
gaudy striped sash round his waist into which a brace of
long pistols had been thrust. His buckskin tunic had been
ornamented over the front with dyed porcupine quills and
Indian bead-work, while his leggings were scarlet with a
fringe of raccoon tails hanging down from them. Leaning
upon his long brown gun he stood watching the party, while
his companion advanced towards them.

"You will excuse our precautions/' said he. " We never

306 TtiE REFUGEES.

know what device these rascals may adopt to entrap us. 1
fear, madame, that you have had a long and very tiring
journey.''

Poor Adele, who had been famed for neatness even
among housekeepers of the Rue St. Martin, hardly dared to
look down at her own stained and tattered dress. Fatigue
and danger she had endured with a smiling face, but her
patience almost gave way at the thought of facing strangers
in this attire.

11 My mother will be very glad to welcome you, and to see
to every want," said he quickly, as though he had read her
thoughts. " But you, sir, I have surely seen you before."

" And I you," cried the guardsman. " My name is Amory
de Catinat, once of the regiment of Picardy. Surely you
are Achille de la Noue de Sainte Marie, whom I remember
when you came with your father to the government levies at
Quebec."

" Yes, it is I," the young man answered, holding out his
hand and smiling in a somewhat constrained fashion,
do not wonder that you should hesitate, for when you saw
me last I was in a very different dress to this."

De Catinat did indeed remember him as one of the band
of the young noblesse who used to come up to the capital
once a year, where they inquired about the latest modes,
chatted over the year-old gossip of Versailles, and for a few
weeks at least lived a life which was in keeping with the
traditions of their order. Very different was he now, with
scalp lock and war-paint, under the shadow of the great
oaks, his musket in his hand and his tomahawk at his belt.

"We have one life for the forest and one for the cities,'1
said he, " though indeed my good father will not have it so,
and carries Versailles with him wherever he goes. You
know him of old, monsieur, and I need not explain my
words. But it is time for our relief, and so we may guide
you home."

?HE LORD OF SAINTE MARIE. 301

Two men in the rude dress of Canadian censitaires or
farmers, but carrying their muskets in a fashion which told
De Catmat's trained senses that they were disciplined
soldiers, had suddenly appeared upon the scene. Young De
la Noue gave them a few curt injunctions, and then accom-
panied the refugees along the path.

" You may not know my friend here," said he, pointing to
the other sentinel, " but I am quite sure that his name is
not unfamiliar to you. This is Greysolon du Lhut."

Both Amos and De Catinat looked with the deepest
curiosity and interest at the famous leader of coureurs-de-
bois, a man whose whole life had been spent in pushing
westward, ever westward, saying little, writing nothing, but
always the first wherever there was danger to meet or diffi-
culty to overcome. It was not religion and it was not hope
of gain which led him away into those western wildernesses,
but pure love of nature and of adventure, with so little ambi-
tion that he had never cared to describe his own travels, and
none knew where he had been or where he had stopped.
For years he would vanish from the settlements away into
the vast plains of the Dacotah, or into the huge wilderness
of the north-west, and then at last some day would walk
back into Sault La Marie, or any other outpost of civilisation,
a little leaner, a little browner, and as taciturn as ever.
Indians from the furthest corners of the continent knew him
as they knew their own sachem. He could raise tribes and
bring a thousand painted cannibals to the help of the French
who spoke a tongue which none knew, and came from the
shores of rivers which no one else had visited. The most
daring French explorers, when, after a thousand dangers,
they had reached some country which they believed to be
new, were as likely as not to find Du Lhut sitting by his
camp fire there, some new squaw by his side, and his pipe
between his teeth. Or again, when in doubt and danger,
with no friends within a thousand miles, the traveller might

362 THE REFUGEES.

suddenly meet this silent man,* with one or two tattered
wanderers of his own kidney, who would help him from his
peril, and then vanish as unexpectedly as he came. Such
was the man who now walked by their sides along the bank
of the Richelieu, and both Amos and De Catinat knew that
his presence there had a sinister meaning, and that the
place which Greysolon du Lhut had chosen was the place
where the danger threatened.

"What do you think of those fires over yonder, Du
Lhut ? " asked young De la Noue.

The adventurer was stuffing his pipe with rank Indian
tobacco which he pared from a plug with a scalping knife.
He glanced over at the two little plumes of smoke which
stood straight up against the red evening sky.

" I don't like them," said he.

" They are Iroquois then ? '

"Yes."

"Well, at least it proves that they are on the other side
of the river."

" It proves that they are on this side."

"What!"

Du Lhut lit his pipe from a tinder paper. " The Iroquois
are on this side," said he. " They crossed to the south of

us.'

"And you never told us. How do you know that they
crossed, and why did you not tell us ? "

" I did not know until I saw the fires over yonder."

" And how did they tell you ? "

"Tut, an Indian papoose could have told," said Du Lhut
impatiently. " Iroquois on the trail do nothing without an
object. They have an object then in showing that smoke.
If their war-parties were over yonder there would be no
object. Therefore their braves must have crossed the river.
And they could not get over to the north without being seen
from the fort. They have got over on the south then."

THE LORD OF SAINfE MARI&. 363

Amos nodded with intense appreciation. " That's it ! ':
said he, " that's Injun ways. I'll lay that he is right."

" Then they may be in the woods round us. We may be
in danger," cried De la Noue.

Du Lhut nodded and sucked at his pipe.

De Catinat cast a glance round him at the grand tree
trunks, the fading foliage, the smooth sward underneath
with the long evening shadows barred across it. How diffi-
cult it was to realise that behind all this beauty there lurked
a danger so deadly and horrible that a man alone might well
shrink from it, far less one who had the woman whom he
loved walking within hand's touch of him. It was with a
long heart-felt sigh of relief that he saw a wall of stockade
in the midst of a large clearing in front of him, with the
stone manor-house rising above it. In a line from the
stockade were a dozen cottages with cedar-shingled roofs
turned up in the Norman fashion, in which dwelt the
habitants under the protection of the seigneur's chateau-
a strange little graft of the feudal system in the heart of an
American forest. Above the main gate as they approached
was a huge shield of wood with a coat of arms painted upon
it, a silver ground with a chevron ermine between three
coronets gules. At either corner a small brass cannon
peeped through an embrasure. As they passed the gate
the guard inside closed it and placed the huge wooden bars
into position. A little crowd of men, women, and children
were gathered round the door of the chateau, and a man
appeared to be seated on a high-backed chair upon the
threshold.

" You know my father," said the young man with a shrug
of his shoulders. " He will have it that he has never left
his Norman castle, and that he is still the Seigneur de la
Noue, the greatest man within a day's ride of Rouen, and of
the richest blood of Normandy. He is now taking his dues
and his yearly oaths from his tenants, and he would not

304 THE REFUGEES.

think it becoming, if the governor himself were to visit him,
to pause in the middle of so august a ceremony. But if it
would interest you, you may step this way and wait until
he has finished. You, madame, I will take at once to my
mother, if you will be so kind as to follow me."

The sight was, to the Americans at least, a novel one.
A triple row of men, women, and children were standing
round in a semicircle, the men rough and sunburned, the
women homely and clean, with white caps upon their heads,
the children open-mouthed and round-eyed, awed into an
unusual quiet by the reverent bearing of their elders. In
the centre, on his high-backed carved chair, there sat an
elderly man very stiff and erect, with an exceedingly solemn
face. He was a fine figure of a man, tall and broad, with
large strong features, clean-shaven and deeply-lined, a huge
beak of a nose, and strong shaggy eyebrows which arched
right up to the great wig, which he wore full and long as it
had been worn in France in his youth. On his wig was
placed a white hat cocked jauntily at one side with a red
feather streaming round it, and he wore a coat of cinnamon-
coloured cloth with silver at the neck and pockets, which
was still very handsome, though it bore signs of having
been frayed and mended more than once. This, with black
velvet knee breeches and high well-polished boots, made a
costume such as De Catinat had never before seen in the
wilds of Canada.

As they watched, a rude husbandman walked forwards
from the crowd, and kneeling down upon a square of carpet
placed his hands between those of the seigneur.

" Monsieur de Sainte Marie, Monsieur de Sainte Marie,
Monsieur de Sainte Marie,'5 said he three times, " I bring
you the faith and homage which I am bound to bring you on
account of my fief Herbert, which I hold as a man of faith
of your seigneury."

" Be true, my son. Be valiant and true ! ' said the old

THE LORD OF SAINTE MARIE. 305

nobleman solemnly, and then with a sudden change of tone:
"What in the name of the devil has your daughter got
there ? "

A girl had advanced from the crowd with a large strip of
bark in front of her on which was heaped a pile of dead fish.

"It is your eleventh fish which I am bound by my oath
to render to you," said the censitaire. " There are seventy-
three in the heap, and I have caught eight hundred in the
month."

"Peste!' cried the nobleman. "Do you think, Andre
Dubois, that I will disorder my health by eating three-and-
seventy fish in this fashion ? Do you think that I and my
body-servants and my personal retainers and the other
members of my household have nothing to do but to eat
your fish ? In future, you will pay your tribute not more
than five at a time. Where is the major-domo ? Theuriet,
remove the fish to our central store-house, and be careful
that the smell does not penetrate to the blue tapestry
chamber or to my lady's suite."

A man in very shabby black livery, all stained and faded,
advanced with a large tin platter and carried off the pile of
white fish. Then, as each of the tenants stepped forward to
pay their old-world homage, they all left some share of their
industry for their lord's maintenance. With some it was a
bundle of wheat, with some a barrel of potatoes, while others
had brought skins of deer or of beaver. All these were
carried off by the major-domo, until each had paid his
tribute, and the singular ceremony was brought to a con-
clusion. As the seigneur rose, his son, who had returned,
took De Catinat by the sleeve and led him through the
throng.

" Father," said he, "this is Monsieur de Catinat, whom
you may remember some years ago at Quebec."

The seigneur bowed with much condescension, and shook
the guardsman by the hand.

306 THE REFUGEES.

"You are extremely welcome to my estates, both you and
your body- servants -

" They are my friends, monsieur. This is Monsieur
Amos Green and Captain Ephraim Savage. My wife is
travelling with me, but your courteous son has kindly taken
her to your lady."

"I am honoured — honoured Indeed!" cried the old man,
with a bow and a flourish. " I remember you very well, sir,
for it is not so common to meet men of quality in this
country. I remember your father also, for he served with
me at Rocroy, though he was in the Foot, and I in the Red
Dragoons of Grissot. Your arms are a martlet in fess upon
a field azure, and now that I think of it, the second daughter
of your great-grandfather married the son of one of the La
Noues of Andelys, which is one of our cadet branches.
Kinsman, you are welcome ! ' He threw his arms suddenly
round De Catinat and slapped him three times on the back.

The young guardsman was only too delighted to find
himself admitted to such an intimacy.

" I will not intrude long upon your hospitality," said he.
"We are journeying down to Lake Champlain, and we hope
in a day or two to be ready to go on."

"A suite of rooms shall be laid at your disposal as long
as you do me the honour to remain here. Peste I It is not
every day that I can open my gates to a man with good
blood in his veins ! Ah, sir, that is what I feel most in my
exile, for who is there with whom I can talk as equal to
equal ? There is the governor, the intendant, perhaps, one
or two priests, three or four officers, but how many of the
noblesse P Scarcely one. They buy their titles over here as
they buy their pelts, and it is better to have a canoe-load of
beaver skins than a pedigree from Roland. But I forget
my duties. You are weary and hungry, you and your
friends. Come up with me to the tapestried salon, and we
shall see if my stewards can find anything for vour refresh-'

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THE LORD OF SAIttTE MARIE. 307

ment. You play piquet, if I remember right ? Ah, my
skill is leaving me, and I should be glad to try a hand with
you."

The manor-house was high and strong, built of gray
stone in a frame-work of wood. The large iron-clamped
door through which they entered was pierced for musketry
fire and led into a succession of cellars and store-houses in
which the beets, carrots, potatoes, cabbages, cured meat,
dried eels, and other winter supplies were placed. A wind-
ing stone staircase led them through a huge kitchen, flagged
and lofty, from which branched the rooms of the servants,
or retainers as the old nobleman preferred to call them.
Above this again was the principal suite, centring in the
dining-hall with its huge fireplace and rude home-made
furniture. Rich rugs formed of bear- or deer-skin were
littered thickly over the brown-stained floor, and antlered
heads bristled out from among the rows of muskets v/hich
were arranged along the wall. A broad rough-hewn maple
table ran down the centre of this apartment, and on this
there was soon set a venison pie, a side of calvered salmon,
and a huge cranberry tart, to which the hungry travellers did
full justice. The seigneur explained that he had already
supped, but having allowed himself to be persuaded into
joining them, he ended by eating more than Ephraim Savage,
drinking more than Du Lhut, and finally by singing a very
amorous little French chanson with a tra-le-ra chorus, the
words of which, fortunately for the peace of the company,
were entirely unintelligible to the Bostonian.

" Madame is taking her refection in my lady's boudoir,"
he remarked, when the dishes had been removed. "You
may bring up a bottle of Frontiniac from bin thirteen,
Theuriet Oh, you will see, gentlemen, that even in the
wilds we have a little, a very little, which is perhaps not
altogether bad. And so you come from Versailles, De

Catinat ? It was built since my day, but how I remember

22

THE REFUGEES.

the old life of the court at St. Germain, before Louis turned
serious ! Ah, what innocent happy days they were when
Madame de Xevailles had to bar the windows of the maids
of honour to keep out the king, and we all turned out eight
deep on to the grass plot for our morning duel ! By Saint
Denis, I have not quite forgotten the trick of the wrist yet,
and, old as I am, I should be none the worse for a little
breather.'" He strutted in his stately fashion over to where
a rapier and dagger hung upon the wall, and began to make
passes at the door, darting in and out, warding off imaginary
blows with his poniard, and stamping his feet with little
cries of " Punto ! reverso ! stoccata ! dritta ! mandritta ! '
and all the jargon of the fencing schools. Finally he
rejoined them, breathing heavily and with his wig awry.

11 That was our old exercise," said he. " Doubtless you
young bloods have improved upon it, and yet it was good
enough for the Spaniards at Rocroy and at one or two other
places which I could mention. But they still see life at the
court. I understand. There are still love passages and blood
lettings. How has Lauzun prospered in his wooing of
Mademoiselle de Montpensier ? Was it proved that Ma-
dame de Clermont had bought a phial from Le Vie, the
poison woman, two days before the soup disagreed so
violently with monsieur ? What did the Due de Biron
do when his nephew ran away with the duchess ? Is it
true that he raised his allowance to fifty thousand livres for
having done it ? : Such were the two-year-old questions
which had not been answered yet upon the banks of the
Richelieu River. Long into the hours of the night, when his
comrades were already snoring under their blankets, De
Catinat, blinking and yawning, was still engaged in trying
to satisfy the curiosity of the old courtier, and to bring him
up to date in all the most minute gossip of Versailles.

309

CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE SLAYING OF BROWN MOOSE.

Two days were spent by the travellers at the seigneury ot
Sainte Marie, and they would very willingly have spent
longer, for the quarters were comfortable and the welcome
warm, but already the reds of autumn were turning to brown,
and they knew how suddenly the ice and snow come in
those northern lands, and how impossible it would be to
finish their journey if winter were once fairly upon them.
The old nobleman had sent his scouts by land and by water,
but there were no signs of the Iroquois upon the eastern
banks, so that it was clear that Du Lhut had been mistaken.
Over on the other side, however, the high gray plumes of
smoke still streamed up above the trees as a sign that their
enemies were not very far off All day from the manor-
house windows and from the stockade they could see those
danger signals which reminded them that a horrible death
lurked ever at their elbow.

The refugees were rested now and refreshed, and of one
mind about pushing on.

" If the snow comes, it will be a thousand times more
dangerous,'1 said Amos, -; for we shall leave a track then
that a papoose could follow. "'

"And why should we fear?' urged old Ephraim.
u Truly this is a desert of salt, even though it lead to the
vale of Hinnom, but we shall be borne up against these sons
of Jeroboam. Steer a straight course, lad, and jam your
helm, for the pilot will see you safe."

" And I am not frightened, Amory, and I am quite rested
now,'' said Adele. %;We shall be so much more hapy

310 THE REFUGEES.

en we are in the English Provinces, for even now, how
do we know that that dreadful monk may not come with
orders to drag us back to Quebec and Pa.:;- "

It was indeed very possible that the vindictive Franciscan,
when satisr.ed that they had not ascended to Montreal, or
remained at Three Rivers, might seek them on the banks of
the Richelieu. When De Catinat thought of how he passed
them in his great canoe that morning, his eager face pro-
truded, a.nd his dark body swinging in time to the paddles,
he felt that the danger which his wife suggested was not
only rossi'le but imminent. The seigneur was his friend.
but th- -tigneur could not disobey the governor's order. A
great hand, stretching all the way from Versailles, seemed to
hang over them, even here in the heart of the virgin forest,

.iy to snatch them up and carry them back into degrada-
tion and misen.'. Better all the perils of the woods than
tibat

But the seigneur and his son, who knew nothing of their
pre — r. _' :..--ons for haste, were strenuous in urging De
Catinat the other v ay, and in this they were supported by
the silent Du Lhut. se few rr.uttr:ed words were always
me:.- - tight}* than the longe.-: - cech, for he never spoke
-ye about that of which he was a master.

" You have seen my little place." said the old nobleman,

writh t of his berufned ring-covered hand. " It is not

what I should wish it, .but such as it is. it is most heartily

- for the • ater: if you and your comrades would honour

me by remaining. As to madarr.e, I doubt not that my own

: and she will find plenty to amuse and occupy them,

:h reminds me. De Catinat. that you have not yet been

. .nted. Theuriet, go to your mistress and inform her

-t I request her to be so good as to come to us in the hall
:' the da .

De Catinat v.-as too seasone I I he easily startled, but he
: : iken aback - . the lady, to whom the old

\v

THE LADY OF SAINTE-MARIE

THE SLAYING OF BROWN MOOSE. 311

nobleman always referred in terms of exaggerated respect,
proved to be as like a full-blooded Indian squaw as the hall
of the dais was to a French barn. She was dressed, it was-
true, in a bodice of scarlet taffeta with a black skirt, silver
buckled shoes, and a scented pomander ball dangling by a
silver chain from her girdle, but her face was of the colour
of the bark of the Scotch fir, while her strong nose and
harsh mouth, with the two plaits of coarse black hair which
dangled down her back, left no possible doubt as to her origin.

"Allow me to present you, Monsieur de Catinat," said
the Seigneur de Sainte Marie solemnly, " to my wife,
Onega de la Noue de Sainte Marie, chatelaine by right of
marriage to this seigneury, and also to the Chateau d'Andelys
in Normandy, and to the estate of Varennes in Provence,
while retaining in her own right the hereditary chieftainship
on the distaff side of the nation of the Onondagas. My
angel, I have been endeavouring to persuade our friends to
remain with us at Sainte Marie instead of journeying on to
Lake Champlain."

"At least leave your White Lily at Sainte Marie," said
the dusky princess, speaking in excellent French, and clasp-
ing with her ruddy fingers the ivory hand of Adele. "We
will hold her safe for you until the ice softens, and the leaves
and the partridge berries come once more. I know my
people, monsieur, and I tell you that the woods are full of
murder, and that it is not for nothing that the leaves are the
colour of blood, for death lurks behind every tree."

De Catinat was more moved by the impressive manner of
his hostess than by any of the other warnings which he had
received. Surely she, if anyone, must be able to read the
signs of the times.

" I know not what to do ! " he cried in despair. " I must
go on, and yet how can I expose her to these perils ? I
would fain stay the winter, but you must take my word for
it, sir, that it is not possible,"

312 THE REFUGEES.

" Du Lhut, you know how things should be ordered,"
said the seigneur. ''What should you advise my friend to
do, since he is so set upon getting to the English Provinces
before the winter comes ? '

The dark silent pioneer stroked his beard with his hand
as he pondered over the question.

" There is but one way," said he at last, " though even in
it there is danger. The woods are safer than the river, for
the reeds are full of cached canoes. Five leagues from here
is the blockhouse of Poitou, and fifteen miles beyond, that
of Auvergne. We will go to-morrow to Poitou through the
woods and see if all be safe. I will go with you, and I give
you my word that if the Iroquois are there, Greysolon du
Lhut will know it. The lady we shall leave here, and if we
find that all is safe we shall come back for her. Then in
the same fashion we shall advance to Auvergne, and there
you must wait until you hear where their war-parties are.
It is in my mind that it will not be very long before we
know."

" What ! You would part us ! "' cried Adele aghast.

" It is best, my sister," said Onega, passing her arm
caressingly round her. " You cannot know the danger, but
we know it and we will not let our White Lily run into it.
You will stay here to gladden us, while the great chief Du
Lhut, and the French soldier, your husband, and the old
warrior who seems so wary, and the other chief with limbs
like the wild deer, go forward through the woods and see
that all is well before you venture."

And so it was at last agreed, and Adele, still protesting,
was consigned to the care of the lady of Sainte Marie, while
De Catinat swore that without a pause he would return from
Poitou to fetch her. The old nobleman and his son would
fain have joined them in their adventure, but they had their
own charge to watch and the lives of many in their keeping,
while a small party were safer in the woods than a larger

THE SLAYING OF BROWN MOOSE. 313

one would be. The seigneur provided them with a letter for
De Lannes, the governor of the Poitou blockhouse, and so
in the early dawn the four of them crept like shadows from
the stockade-gate, amid the muttered good wishes of the
guard within, and were lost in an instant in the blackness
of the vast forest.

From La Noue to Poitou was but twelve miles down
the river, but by the woodland route where creeks were to be
crossed, reed-girt lakes to be avoided, and paths to be picked
among swamps where the wild rice grew higher than their
heads, and the alder bushes lay in dense clumps before
them, the distance was more than doubled. They walked
in single file, Du Lhut leading, with the swift silent tread
of some wild creature, his body bent forward, his gun ready
in the bend of his arm, and his keen dark eyes shooting
little glances to right and left, observing everything from
the tiniest mark upon the ground or tree trunk to the motion
of every beast and bird of the brushwood. De Catinat
walked behind, then Ephraim Savage, and then Amos, all
with their weapons ready and with every sense upon the
alert. By midday they were more than half-way, and halted
in a thicket for a scanty meal of bread and cheese, for Du
Lhut would not permit them to light a fire.

" They have not come as far as this," he whispered, " and

yet I am sure that they have crossed the river. Ah, Governor

*de la Barre did not know what he did when he stirred these

men up, and this good dragoon whom the king has sent us

now knows even less."

" I have seen them in peace," remarked Amos. " I have
traded to Onondaga and to the country of the Senecas. I
know them as fine hunters, and brave men."

" They are fine hunters, but the game that they hunt best
are their fellow-men. I have myself led their scalping
parties, and I have fought against them, and I tell you that
when a general comes out from France who hardly knows

3H THE REFUGEES

•

enough to get the sun behind him in a fight, he will find
that there is little credit to be gained from them. They talk
of burning their villages ! It would be as wise to kick over
the wasps1 nest, and think that you have done with the
wasps. You are from New England, monsieur ? '

"My comrade is from New England; I am from New
York."

" Ah, yes. I could see from your step and your eye that
the woods were as a home to you. The New England man
goes on the waters and he slays the cod with more pleasure
than the cariboo. Perhaps that is why his face is so sad.
I have been on the great water, and I remember that my
face was sad also. There is little wind, and so I think that
we may light our pipes without danger. With a good
breeze I have known a burning pipe fetch up a scalping
party from two miles' distance, but the trees stop scent, and
the Iroquois noses are less keen than the Sioux and the
Dacotah. God help you, monsieur, if you should ever have
an Indian war. It is bad for us, but it would be a thousand
times worse for you."

" And why ? "

" Because we have fought the Indians from the first, and
we have them always in our mind when we build. You see
how along this river every house and every hamlet supports
its neighbour? But you, by Saint Anne of Beaupre, it made
my scalp tingle when I came on your frontiers and saw the
lonely farm-houses and little clearings out in the woods with
no help for twenty leagues around. An Indian war is a
purgatory for Canada, but it would be a hell for the English
Provinces ! '

"We are good friends with the Indians,5'' said Amos.
" We do not wish to conquer."

"Your people have a way of conquering although they
say that they do not wish to do it,'' remarked Du Lhut.
" Now, with us, we bang our drums, and wave our flags,

THE SLAYING OF BROWN MOOSE. 315

and make a stir, but no very big thing has come of it yet.
We have never had but two great men in Canada. One
was Monsieur de la Salle who was shot last year by his
own men down the great river, and the other, old Frontenac,
will have to come back again if New France is not to be
turned into a desert by the Five Nations. It would surprise
me little if by this time two years the white and gold flag
flew only over the rock of Quebec. But I see that you look
at me impatiently, Monsieur de Catinat, and I know that
you count the hours until we are back at Sainte Marie again.
Forward, then, and may the second part of our journey be
as peaceful as the first."

For an hour or more they picked their way through the
woods, following in the steps of the old French pioneer. It
was a lovely day with hardly a cloud in the heavens, and the
sun streaming down through the thick foliage covered the
shaded sward with a delicate network of gold. Sometimes
where the woods opened they came out into the pure sun-
light, but only to pass into thick glades beyond, where a
single ray, here and there, was all that could break its way
through the vast leafy covering. It would have been beauti-
ful, these sudden transitions from light to shade, but with
the feeling of impending danger, and of a horror ever lurking
in these shadows, the mind was tinged with awe rather than
admiration. Silently, lightly, the four men picked their
steps among the great tree trunks.

Suddenly Du Lhut dropped upon his knees and stooped
his ear to the ground. He rose, shook his head, and walked
on with a grave face, casting quick little glances into the
shadows in every direction.

" Did you hear something ? ' whispered Amos.

Du Lhut put his finger to his lips, and then in an instant
was down again upon his face with his ear fixed to the
ground. He sprang up with the look of a man who has
heard what he expected to hear.

3l6 THE REFUGEES.

" Walk on," said he quietly, " and behave exactly as you
have done all day."

" What is it, then ? "

"Indians."

" In front of us?"

" No, behind us."

" What are they doing ? '

" They are following us."

" How many of them ? '

" Two, I think."

The friends glanced back involuntarily over their shoulders
into the dense blackness of the forest. At one point a single
broad shaft of light slid down between two pines and cast
a golden blotch upon their track. Save for this one vivid
spot all was sombre and silent.

" Do not look round," whispered Du Lhut sharply.
" Walk on as before."

" Are they enemies ? '

" They are Iroquois."

" And pursuing us ? !

" No, we are now pursuing them."

" Shall we turn, then ? "

" No, they would vanish like shadows."

" How far off are they ? '

" About two hundred paces, I think."

" They cannot see us, then ? '

" I think not, but I cannot be sure. They are following
our trail, I think."

" What shall we do, then ? "

" Let us make a circle and get behind them."

Turning sharp to the left he led them in a long curve
through the woods, hurrying swiftly and yet silently under
the darkest shadows of the trees. Then he turned again,
and presently halted.

" This is our own track," said he.

THE SLAYING OF BROWN MOOSE. 317

*•' Aye, and two redskins have passed over it," cried Amos,
bending down, and pointing to marks which were entirely
invisible to Ephraim Savage or De Catinat.

" A full-grown warrior and a lad on his first war-path,"
said Du Lhut. " They were moving fast, you see, for you
can hardly see the heel marks of their mocassins. They
walked one behind the other. Now let us follow them as
they followed us, and see if we have better luck."

He sped swiftly along the trail with his musket cocked
in his hand, the others following hard upon his heels, but
there was no sound, and no sign of life from the shadowy
woods in front of them. Suddenly Du Lhut stopped and
grounded his weapon.

" They are still behind us," he saido

" Still behind us ? "

"Yes. This is the point where we branched off. They
have hesitated a moment, as you can see by their footmarks,
and then they have followed on."

" If we go round again and quicken our pace we may
overtake them."

" No, they are on their guard now. They must know
that it could only be on their account that we went back on
our tracks. Lie here behind the fallen log and we shall see
if we can catch a glimpse of them."

A great rotten trunk, all green with mould and blotched
with pink and purple fungi, lay to one side of where they
stood. Behind this the Frenchman crouched, and his three
companions followed his example, peering through the
brushwood screen in front of them. Still the one broad
sheet of sunshine poured down between the two pines, but
all else was as dim and as silent as a vast cathedral with
pillars of wood and roof of leaf. Not a branch that creaked,
nor a twig that snapped, nor any sound at all save the sharp
barking of a fox somewhere in the heart of the forest. A
thrill of excitement ran through the nerves of De Catinat,

3iS THE REFUGEES.

It was like one of those games of hide-and-seek which the
court used to play, when Louis was in a sportive mood,
among the oaks and yew hedges of Versailles. But the
forfeit there was a carved fan, or a box of bonbons, and here
it was death.

Ten minutes passed and there was no sign of any living
thing behind them.

"They are over in yonder thicket," whispered Du Lhut,
nodding his head towards a dense clump of brushwood, two
hundred paces away.

" Have you seen them ? '

«No.'f

" How do you know, then ? ''

(C I saw a squirrel come from his hole in the great white
beech tree yonder. He scuttled back again as if something
had scared him. From his hole he can see down into that
brushwood."

" Do you think that they know that we are here ? '

"They cannot see us. But they are suspicious. They
fear a trap."

" Shall we rush for the brushwood ? '

" They would pick two of us off, and be gone like shadows
through the woods. No, we had best go on our way."

" But they will follow us."

" I hardly think that they will. We are four and they
are only two, and they know now that we are on our guard,
and that we can pick up a trail as quickly as they can them-
selveso Get behind these trunks where they cannot see us.
So ! Now stoop until you are past the belt of alder bushes.
We must push on fast now, for where there are two Iroquois
there are likely to be two hundred not very far off.'5

"Thank God that I did not bring Adele ! " cried De Catinat.

"Yes, monsieur, it is well for a man to make a comrade
of his wife, but not on the borders of the Iroquois country 5
nor of any other Indian country either."

THE SLAYING OF BROWN MOOSE. 3!^

''You do not take your own wife with you when you
travel, then ? " asked the soldier.

" Yes, but I do not let her travel from village to village.
She remains in the wigwam."

" Then you leave her behind ? '

" On the contrary, she is always there to welcome me.
By Saint Anne, I should be heavy-hearted if I came to any
village between this and the Bluffs of the Illinois, and did
not find my wife waiting to greet me."

" Then she must travel before you."

Du Lhut laughed heartily, without, however, emitting a
sound.

"A fresh village, a fresh wife," said he. "But I never
have more than one in each, for it is a shame for a French-
man to set an evil example when the good fathers are spend-
ing their lives so freely in preaching virtue to them. Ah,
here is the Ajidaumo Creek, where the Indians set the
sturgeon nets. It is still seven miles to Poitou."

" We shall be there before nightfall, then ? '

" I think that we had best wait for nightfall before we
make our way in. Since the Iroquois scouts are out as far
as this, it is likely that they lie thick round Poitou, and we
may find the last step the worst unless we have a care, the
more so if these two get in front of us to warn the others.''
He paused a moment with slanting head and sidelong ear.
"By Saint Anne," he muttered, "we have not shaken them
off. They are still upon our trail ! '

" You hear them ? "

" Yes, they are no great way from us. They will find
that they have followed us once too often this time. Now,
I will show you a little bit of woodcraft which may be new
to you. Slip off your mocassins, monsieur."

De Catinat pulled off his shoes as directed, and Du Lhut
did the same.

" Put them on as if they were gloves," said the pioneer,

320 THE REFUGEES.

and an instant later Ephraim Savage and Amos had their
comrades' shoes upon their hands.

" You can sling your muskets over your back. So !
Now down on all fours, bending yourselves double, with
your hands pressing hard upon the earth. That is excellent.
Two men can leave the trail of four ! Now come with me.

monsieur.'

He flitted from tree to tree on a line which was parallel
to, but a few yards distant from, that of their comrades-.
Then suddenly he crouched behind a bush and pulled De
Catinat down beside him.

" They must pass us in a few minutes," he whispered.
" Do not fire if you can help it." Something gleamed in
Du Lhut's hand, and his comrade, glancing down, saw that
he had drawn a keen little tomahawk from his belt. Again
the mad wild thrill ran through the soldier's blood, as he
peered through the tangled branches and waited for what-
ever might come out of the dim silent aisles of tree-boles.

And suddenly he saw something move. It flitted like a
shadow from one trunk to the other so swiftly that De Cati-
nat could not have told whether it were beast or human.
And then again he saw it, and yet again, sometimes one
shadow, sometimes two shadows, silent, furtive, like the
loup-garou with which his nurse had scared him in his
childhood. Then for a few moments all was still once
more, and then in an instant there crept out from among
the bushes the most terrible-looking creature that ever
walked the earth, an Iroquois chief upon the war-trail.

He was a tall powerful man, and his bristle of scalp-locks
and eagle feathers made him look a giant in the dim light,
for a good eight feet lay between his beaded mocassin and
the topmost plume of his headgear. One side of his face
was painted in soot, ochre, and vermilion to resemble a dog,
and the other half as a fowl, so that the front view was in-
describably grotesque and strange. A belt of wampum was

23

THE SLAYING OF BROWN MOOSE. 321

braced round his loin-cloth, and a dozen scalp-locks fluttered
out as he moved from the fringe of his leggings. His head
was sunk forward, his eyes gleamed with a sinister light,
and his nostrils dilated and contracted like those of an ex-
cited animal. His gun was thrown forward, and he crept
along with bended knees, peering, listening, pausing, hurry-
ing on, a breathing image of caution. Two paces behind
him walked a lad of fourteen, clad and armed in the same
fashion, but without the painted face and without the horrid
dried trophies upon the leggings. It was his first campaign,
and already his eyes shone and his nostrils twitched with
the same lust for murder which burned within his elder. So
they advanced, silent, terrible, creeping out of the shadows
of the wood as their race had come out of the shadows of
history, with bodies of iron and tiger souls.

They were just abreast of the bush when something
caught the eye of the younger warrior, some displaced twig
or fluttering leaf, and he paused with suspicion in eveiy
feature. Another instant and he had warned his companion,
but Du Lhut sprang out and buried his little hatchet in the
skull of the older warrior. De Catinat heard a dull crash,
as when an axe splinters its way into a rotten tree, and the
man fell like a log, laughing horribly, and kicking and strik-
ing with his powerful limbs. The younger warrior sprang
like a deer over his fallen comrade and dashed on into the
wood, but an instant later there was a gunshot among the
trees in front, followed by a faint wailing cry.

" That is his death-whoop," said Du Lhut composedly. " It
was a pity to fire, and yet it was better than letting him go."

As he spoke the two others came back, Ephraim ramming
a fresh charge into his musket.

" Who was laughing ? " asked Amos.

" It was he," said Du Lhut, nodding towards the dying
warrior, who lay with his head in a horrible puddle, and his
grotesque features contorted into a fixed smile. " It's a

322 THE REFUGEES.

custom they have when they get their death-blow. I've
known a Seneca chief laugh for six hours on end at the tor-
ture-stake. Ah, he's gone ! '

As he spoke, the Indian gave a last spasm with his hands
and feet, and lay rigid, grinning up at the slit of blue sky
above him.

" He's a great chief," said Du Lhut. " He is Brown
Moose of the Mohawks, and the other is his second son.
We have drawn first blood, but I do not think that it will
be the last, for the Iroquois do not allow their war-chiefs to
die unavenged. He was a mighty fighter, as you may see
by looking at his neck."

He wore a peculiar necklace which seemed to De Catinat
to consist of blackened bean pods set upon a string. As he
stooped over it he saw to his horror that they were not bean
pods, but withered human fingers.

"They are all right fore-fingers," said Du Lhut, "so
everyone represents a life. There are forty-two in all-
Eighteen are of men whom he has slain in battle, and the
other twenty-four have been taken and tortured."

" How do you know that ? ':

" Because only eighteen have there nails on. If the
prisoner of an Iroquois be alive, he begins always by biting
his nails off. You see that they are missing from four-and-
twenty."

De Catinat shuddered. What demons were these amongst
whom an evil fate had drifted him ? And was it possible
that his Adele should fall into the hands of such fiends ?
No, no, surely the good God, for whose sake they had
suffered so much, would not permit such an infamy ! And
yet as evil a fate had come upon other women as tender as
Adele — upon other men as loving as he. What hamlet was
there in Canada which had not such stories in their record ?
A vague horror seized him as he stood there. We know
more of the future than we are willing to admit, away down

THE SLAYING OF BROWN MOOSE. 323

in those dim recesses of the soul where there is no reason,
but only instincts and impressions. Now some impending
terror cast its cloud over him. The trees around with their
great protruding limbs were like shadowy demons thrusting
out their gaunt arms to seize him. The sweat burst from
his forehead, and he leaned heavily upon his musket.

"By Saint Eulalie," said Du Lhut, "for an old soldier
you turn very pale, monsieur, at a little bloodshed."

" I am not well. I should be glad of a sup from your
cognac bottle."

" Here it is, comrade, and welcome ! Well, I may as well
have this fine scalp that we may have something to show
for our walk." He held the Indian's head between his
knees, and in an instant, with a sweep of his knife, had torn
off the hideous dripping trophy.

" Let us go ! ' cried De Catinat, turning away in disgust.

" Yes, we shall go. But I shall also have this wampum
belt marked with the totem of the Bear. So ! And the gun
too. Look at the * London ' printed upon the lock. Ah,
Monsieur Green, Monsieur Green, it is not hard to see
where the enemies of France get their arms."

So at last they turned away, Du Lhut bearing his spoils,
leaving the red grinning figure stretched under the silent
trees. As they passed on they caught a glimpse of the lad
lying doubled up among the bushes where he had fallen.
The pioneer walked very swiftly until he came to a little
stream which prattled down to the big river. Here he
slipped off his boots and leggings, and waded down it with
his companions for half a mile or so.

" They will follow our tracks when they find him," said
he, "but this will throw them off, for it is only on running
water that an Iroquoiscan find no trace. And now we shall
lie in this clump until nightfall, for we are little over a mile
from Fort Poitou, and it is dangerous to go forward, for the
ground becomes more open."

THE

And so they remained concealed among the alders whilst
the shadows turned from short to long, and the white drift-
ing clouds above them were tinged with the pink of the
setting sun. Du Lhut coiled himself into a ball with his
pipe between his teeth and dropped into a light sleep, prick-
ing up his ears and starting at the slightest sound from the
woods around them. The two Americans whispered to-
gether for a long time, Ephraim telling some long story
ttbout the cruise of the brig Industry, bound to Jamestown
for sugar and molasses, but at last the soothing hum of a
gentle breeze through the branches lulled them off also, and
they slept. De Catinat alone remained awake, his nerves
still in a tingle from that strange sudden shadow which has
fallen upon his soul. What could it mean ? Not surely
that Adele was in danger? He had heard of such warnings,
but had he not left her in safety behind cannons and stock-
ades ? By the next evening at latest he would see her again.
As he lay looking up through the tangle of copper leaves at
the sky beyond, his mind drifted like the clouds above him
and he was back once more in the jutting window in the
Rue St. Martin, sitting on thfe broad bancal, with its
Spanish leather covering, with the gilt wool-bale creaking
outside, and his arm round shrinking, timid Adele, she who
had compared herself to a little mouse in an old house, and
who yet had courage to stay by his side through all this
wild journey. And then again he was back at Versailles.
Once more he saw the brown eyes of the king, the fair bold
face of De Montespan, the serene features of De Maintenon
—once more he rode on his midnight mission, was driven
by the demon coachman, and sprang with Amos upon the
scaffold to rescue the most beautiful woman in France. So
clear it was and so vivid that it was with a start that he
came suddenly to himself, and found that the night was
creeping on in an American forest, and that Du Lhut had
roused himself and was ready for a start.

THE SLAYING OF BROWN MOOSE. 325

" Have you been awake ? ' asked the pioneer.

"Yes."

" Have you heard anything ? '

" Nothing but the hooting of the owl."

" It seemed to me that in my sleep I heard a gunshot in
the distance."

" In your sleep ? ':

" Yes, I hear as well asleep as awake and remember
what I hear. But now you must follow me close, and we
shall be in the fort soon."

"You have wonderful ears, indeed," said De Catinat, as
they picked their way through the tangled wood. " How
could you hear that these men were following us to-day ?
I could make out no sound when they were within hand-
touch of us.''

" I did not hear them at first."

" You saw them ? '

" No, nor that either."

" Then how could you know that they were there ? '

" I heard a frightened jay flutter among the trees after
we were past it. Then ten minutes later I heard the same
thing. I knew then that there was someone on our trail,
and I listened."

" Peste ! you are a woodsman indeed ! ':
" I believe that these woods are swarming with Iroquois,
although we have had the good fortune to miss them. So
great a chief as Brown Moose would not start on the path
with a small following nor for a small object. They must
mean mischief upon the Richelieu. You are not sorry now
that you did not bring madame ? '
" I thank God for it ! "

" The woods will not be safe, I fear, until the partridge
berries are out once more. You must stay at Sainte Mane
until then, unless the seigneur can spare men to guard
you."

$26 THE PEFUGEES.

" I had rather stay there forever than expose my wife td
such devils."

"Aye, devils they are, if ever devils walked upon earth.
You winced, monsieur, when I took Brown Moose's scalp,
but when you have seen as much of the Indians as I have
done your heart will be as hardened as mine. And now we
are on the very borders of the clearing, and the blockhouse
lies yonder among the clump of maples. They do not keep
very good watch, for I have been expecting during these last
ten minutes to hear the qui vive. You did not come as near
to Sainte Marie unchallenged, and yet De Lannes is as old a
soldier as La Noue. We can scarce see now, but yonder,
near the river, is where he exercises his men."

" He does so now,'5 said Amos. " I see a dozen of them
drawn up in a line at their drill."

" No sentinels, and all the men at drill ! " cried Du Lhut
in contempt. " It is as you say, however, for I can see
them myself with their ranks open, and each as stiff and
straight as a pine stump. One would think to see them
stand so still that there was not an Indian nearer than
Orange. We shall go across to them, and by Saint Anne, I

»

shall tell their commander what I think of his arrangements."
Du Lhut advanced from the bushes as he spoke, and the
four men crossed the open ground in the direction of the line
of men who waited silently for them in the dim twilight.
They were within fifty paces, and yet none of them had
raised hand or voice to challenge their approach. There
was something uncanny in the silence, and a change came
over Du Lhut's face as he peered in front of him. He
craned his head round and looked up the river.

" My God!" he screamed* "Look at the fort!"
They had cleared the clump of trees, and the outline of
the blockhouse should have shown up in front of them.
There was no sign of it. It was gone !

CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE MEN OF BLOOD.

So unexpected was the blow that even Du Lhut, hardened
from his childhood to every shock and danger, stood shaken
and dismayed. Then, with an oath, he ran at the top of his
speed towards the line of figures, his companions following
at his heels.

As they drew nearer they could see through the dusk that
it was not indeed a line. A silent and motionless officer
stood out some twenty paces in front of his silent and
motionless men. Further they could see that he wore a
very high and singular head-dress. They were still rushing
forward, breathless with apprehension, when to their horror
this head-dress began to lengthen and broaden, and a great
bird flapped heavily up and dropped down again on the
nearest tree trunk. Then they knew that their worst fears
were true, and that it was the garrison of Poitou which
stood before them.

They were lashed to low posts with willow withies, some
twenty of them, naked all, and twisted and screwed into
every strange shape which an agonised body could assume.
In front where the buzzard had perched was the gray-headed
commandant with two cinders thrust into his sockets and
his flesh hanging from him like a beggar's rags. Behind
was the line of men, each with his legs charred off to the
knees, and his body so haggled and scorched and burst that
the willow bands alone seemed to hold it together. For a
moment 'the four comrades stared in silent horror at the
dreadful group. Then each acted as his nature bade him.
De Catinat staggered up against a tree trunk and leaned his

328 THE REFUGEES,

head upon his arm, deadly sick. Du Lhut fell down upon
his knees and said something to heaven, with his two
clenched hands shaking up at the darkening sky. Ephraim
Savage examined the priming of his gun with a tightened
lip and a gleaming eye, while Amos Green, without a word,
began to cast round in circles in search of a trail.

But Du Lhut was on his feet again in a moment, and
running up and down like a sleuth-hound, noting a hundred
things which even Amos would have overlooked. He circled
round the bodies again and again. Then he ran a little way
towards the edge of the woods, and then came back to the
charred ruins of the blockhouse, from some of which a thin
reek of smoke was still rising.

"There is no sign of the women and children," said he.

" My God ! There were women and children ? '

"They are keeping the children to burn at their leisure in
their villages. The women they may torture or may adopt
as the humour takes them. But what does the old man
want?"

" I want you to ask him, Amos," said the seaman, " why
we are yawing and tacking here when we should be cracking
on all sail to stand after them ? '

Du Lhut smiled and shook his head. " Your friend is a
brave man," said he, " if he thinks that with four men we
can follow a hundred and fifty."

"Tell him, Amos, that the Lord will bear us up, said
the other excitedly. " Say that He will be with us against
the children of Jeroboam, and we will cut them off utterly
and they shall be destroyed. What is the French for ' slay
and spare not ' ? I had as soon go about with my jaw braced
up, as with folk who cannot understand a plain language."

But Du Lhut waved aside the seaman's suggestions.
"We must have a care now," said he, "or we shall lose
our own scalps, and be the cause of those at Sainte Marie
losing theirs as well."

MEN OF BLOOD. 32C)

" Sainte Marie ! " cried De Catinat. " Is there then
danger at Sainte Marie ? '

" Aye, they are in the wolf's mouth now. This business
was done last night. The place was stormed by a war-party
of a hundred and fifty men. This morning they left and
went north upon foot. They have been cached among the
woods all day between Poitou and Sainte Marie."

" Then we have come through them ? '

"Yes, we have come through them. They would keep
their camp to-day and send out scouts. Brown Moose
and his son were among them and struck our trail. To-
night -

" To-night they will attack Sainte Marie ! '

"It is possible. And yet with so small a party I should
scarce have thought that they would have dared. Well, we
can but hasten back as quickly as we can, and give them
warning of what is hanging over them."

And so they turned for their weary backward journey,
though their minds were too full to spare a thought upon
the leagues which lay behind them or those which were
before. Old Ephraim, less accustomed to walking than his
younger comrades, was already limping and footsore, but,
for all his age, he was as tough as hickory and full of endur-
ance. Du Lhut took the lead again and they turned their
faces once more towards the north.

The moon was shining brightly in the sky, but it was
little aid to the travellers in the depths of the forest. Where
it had been shadowy in the daytime it was now so absolutely
dark that De Catinat could not see the tree trunks against
which he brushed. Here and there they came upon an open
glade bathed in the moonshine, or perhaps a thin shaft of
silver light broke through between the branches, and cast a
great white patch upon the ground, but Du Lhut preferred
to avoid these more open spaces, and to skirt the glades
rather than to cross them. The breeze had freshened a little

330 THE REFUGEES.

and the whole air was filled with the rustle and sough of
the leaves. Save for this dull never-ceasing sound all would
have been silent had not the owl hooted sometimes from
among the tree-tops, and the night jar whirred above their
heads.

Dark as it was Du Lhut walked as swiftly as during the
sunlight, and never hesitated about the track. His comrades
could see, however, that he was taking them a different way
to that which they had gone in the morning, for twice they
caught a sight of the glimmer of the broad river upon their
left, while before they had only seen the streams which
flowed into it. On the second occasion he pointed to where,
on the farther side, they could see dark shadows flitting over
the water.

" Iroquois canoes," he whispered. " There are ten of
them with eight men in each. They are another party and
they are also going north."

" How do you know that they are another party ? '

" Because we have crossed the trail of the first within the
hour."

De Catinat was filled with amazement at this marvellous
man who could hear in his sleep and could detect a trail
when the very tree-trunks were invisible to ordinary eyes.
Du Lhut halted a little to watch the canoes, and then turned
his back to the river, and plunged into the woods once more.
They had gone a mile or two when suddenly he came to a
dead stop, snuffing at the air like a hound on a scent.

" I smell burning wood," said he. " There is a fire within
a mile of us in that direction."

" I smell it too," said Amos. " Let us creep up that way
and see their camp."

" Be careful, then," whispered Du Lhut, "for your lives
may hang from a cracking twig."

They advanced very slowly and cautiously until suddenly
the red flare of a leaping fire twinkled between the distant

THE MEN OF BLOOD. 33 1

trunks. Still slipping through the brushwood they worked
round until they had found a point from which they could
see without a risk of being seen.

A great blaze of dry logs crackled and spurtled in the
centre of a small clearing. The ruddy flames roared up-
wards, and the smoke spread out above it until it looked like
a strange tree with gray foliage and trunk of fire. But no
living being was in sight and the huge fire roared and
swayed in absolute solitude in the midst of the silent wood-
lands. Nearer they crept and nearer but there was no move-
ment save the rush of the flames, and no sound but the
snapping of the sticks.

" Shall we go up to it ? ' whispered De Catinat
The wary old pioneer shook his head. " It may be a
trap," said he.

" Or an abandoned camp ? '
" No, it has not been lit more than an hour."
" Besides, it is far too great for a camp fire," said Amos,
" What do you make of it ? " asked Du Lhut.
"A signal."

" Yes, I daresay that you are right. This light is not a
safe neighbour, so we shall edge away from it and then make
a straight line for Sainte Marie."

The flames were soon but a twinkling point behind them,
and at last vanished behind the trees, Du Lhut pushed on
rapidly until they came to the edge of a moonlit clearing.
He was about to skirt this, as he had done others, when
suddenly he caught De Catinat by the shoulder and pushed
him down behind a clump of sumach, while Amos did the
same with Ephraim Savage.

A man was walking down the other side of the open space.
He had just emerged and was crossing it diagonally, making
in the direction of the river. His body was bent double but
as he came out from the shadow of the trees they could see
that he was an Indian brave in full war-paint, with leggings,

332 THE REFUGEES.

loin-cloth, and musket. Close at his heels came a second,
and then a third and a fourth, on and on until it seemed as
if the wood were full of men, and that the line would never
come to an end. They flitted past like shadows in the
moonlight, in absolute silence, all crouching and running in
the same swift stealthy fashion. Last of all came a man in
the fringed tunic of a hunter with a cap and feather upon his
head. He passed across like the others, and they vanished
into the shadows as silently as they had appeared. It was
five minutes before Du Lhut thought it safe to rise from
their shelter.

" By Saint Anne," he whispered, " did you count them ? '

"Three hundred and ninety-six," said Amos.

" I made it four hundred and two."

"And you thought that there were only a hundred and
rifty of them ! ' cried De Catinat.

"Ah, you do not understand. This is a fresh band. The
others who "took the blockhouse must be over there, for their
trail lies between us and the river."

"They could not be the same," said Amos, "for there
was not a fresh scalp among them."

Du Lhut gave the young hunter a glance of approval.
" On my word,'' said he, " I did not know that your woods-
men are good as they seem to be. You have eyes, monsieur^
and it may please you some day to remember that Greysolon
du Lhut told you so."

Amos felt a flush of pride at these words from a mail
whose name was honoured wherever trader or trapper
smoked round a camp fire. He was about to make some
answer when a dreadful cry broke suddenly out of the woods,
a horrible screech, as from some one who was goaded to the
very last pitch of human misery. Again and again, as they
stood with blanched cheeks in the darkness, they heard that
awful cry swelling up from the night and ringing drearily
through the forest.

THE MEN OF BLOOD. 333

"They are torturing the women," said Du Lhut. "Their
camp lies over there."

" Can we do nothing to aid them ? ' cried Amos.

"Aye, aye, lad," said the captain in English. "We can't
pass distress signals without going out of our course. Let
us put about and run down yonder."

"In that camp," said Du Lhut slowly, "there are now
nearly six hundred warriors. We are four. What you say
has no sense. Unless we warn them at Sainte Marie, these
devils will lay some trap for them. Their parties are as-
sembling by land and by water and there may be a thousand
before daybreak. Our duty is to push on and give our
warning."

" He speaks the truth," said Amos to Ephraim. " Nay.
but you must not go alone ! ' He seized the stout old sea-
man by the arm and held him by main force to prevent him
from breaking off through the woods.

"There is one thing which we can do to spoil their
night's amusement," said Du Lhut. " The woods are as
dry as powder, and there has been no drop of rain for a
long three months."

"Yes?"

" And the wind blows straight for their camp, with the
river on the other side of it."

" We should fire the woods ! ':

"We cannot do better."

In an instant Du Lhut had scraped together a little
bundle of dry twigs, and had heaped them up against a
withered beech tree which was as dry as tinder. A stroke
of flint and steel was enough to start a little smoulder of
flame, which lengthened and spread until it was leaping
along the white strips of hanging bark. A quarter of a
mile farther on Du Lhut did the same again, and once more
beyond that, until at three different points the forest was in
a blaze. As they hurried onwards they could hear the dull

334 THE REFUGEES.

roaring of the flames behind them, and at last, as they neared
Sainte Marie, they could see, looking back, the long rolling
wave of fire travelling ever westward towards the Richelieu,
and flashing up into great spouts of flame as it licked up a
clump of pines as if it were a bundle of faggots. Du Lhut
chuckled in his silent way as he looked back at the long
orange glare in the sky.

" They will need to swim for it, some of them,'' said he.
" They have not canoes to take them all off. Ah, if I had
but two hundred of my coureurs-de-bois on the river at the
farther side of them not one would have got away."

"They had one who was dressed like a white man,"
remarked Amfos.

" Aye, and the most deadly of the lot. His father was a
Dutch trader, his mother an Iroquois, and he goes by the
name of the Flemish Bastard. Ah, I know him well, and I
tell you that if they want a king in hell they will find one
all ready in his wigwam. By Saint Anne, I have a score
to settle with him, and I may pay it before this business is
over. Well, there are the lights of Sainte Marie shining
down below there. I can understand that sigh of relief,
monsieur, for, on my word, after what we found at Poitou I
was uneasy myself until I should see them."

335

CHAPTER XXXV.
THE TAPPING OF DEATH.

DAY was just breaking as the four comrades entered the
gate of the stockade, but early as it was the censitaires and
their families were all afoot staring at the prodigious fire
which raged to the south of them. De Catinat burst
through the throng and rushed upstairs to Adele, who had
herself flown down to meet him, so that they met in each
other's arms half way up the great stone staircase with a
burst of those little inarticulate cries which are the true
unwritten language of love. Together, with his arm round
her, they ascended to the great hall where old De la Noue
with his son were peering out of the window at the wonder-
ful spectacle.

"Ah, monsieur," said the old nobleman with his courtly
bow, "I am indeed rejoiced to see you safe under my roof
again, not only for your own sake, but for that of madame's
eyes, which, if she will permit an old man to say so, are
much too pretty to spoil by straining them all day in the
hopes of seeing some one coming out of the forest. You
have done forty miles, Monsieur de Catinat, and are doubt-
less hungry and weary. When you are yourself again I
must claim my revenge in piquet, for the cards lay against
me the other night."

But Du Lhut had entered at De Catinat's heels with his
tidings of disaster.

" You will have another game to play, Monsieur de Sainte
Marie," said he. " There are six hundred Iroquois in the
woods and they are preparing to attack."

" Tut, tut, we cannot allow our arrangements to be altered

24

336 THE REFUGEES.

by a handful of savages," said the seigneur. "I must
apologise to you, my dear De Catinat, that you should be
annoyed by such people while you are upon my estate. As
regards the piquet, I cannot but think that your play from
king and knave is more brilliant than safe. Now when I
played piquet last with De Lannes of Poitou -

" De Lannes of Poitou is dead, and all his people," said
Du Lhut. " The blockhouse is a heap of smoking ashes.'

The seigneur raised his eyebrows and took a pinch of
snuff, tapping the lid of his little round gold box.

" I always told him that his fort would be taken unless he
cleared away those maple trees which grew up to the very
walls. They are all dead, you say ? '

" Every man."

" And the fort burned ? "

" Not a stick was left standing."

" Have you seen these rascals ? '

" We saw the trail of a hundred and fifty. Then there
were a hundred in canoes, and a war-party of four hundred
passed us under the Flemish Bastard. Their camp is five
miles down the river, and there cannot be less than six
hundred."

You were fortunate in escaping them."
But they were not so fortunate in escaping us. We
killed Brown Moose and his son, and we fired the woods so
as to drive them out of their camp."

"Excellent! Excellent ! ': said the seigneur, clapping
gently with his dainty hands. " You have done very well
indeed, Du Lhut ! You are, I presume, very tired ? ''

" I am not often tired. I am quite ready to do the journey

u
it

again.''

"Then perhaps you would pick a few men and go back
into the woods to see what these villains are doing ? "
" I shall be ready in five minutes."
" Perhaps you would like to go also, Achille ? "

THE TAPPING OF DEATH. 337

His son's dark eyes and Indian face lit up with a fierce

" Yes, I shall go also," he answered.

" Very good, and we shall make all ready in your absence.
Madame, you will excuse these little annoyances which mar
the pleasure of your visit. Next time that you do me the
honour to come here I trust that we shall have cleared all
these vermin from my estate. We have our advantages.
The Richelieu is a better fish pond, and these forests are a
finer deer preserve than any of which the king can boast.
But on the other hand we have, as you see, our little troubles.
You will excuse me now, as there are one or two things
which demand my attention. De Catinat, you are a tried
soldier and I should be glad of your advice. Onega, give
me my lace handkerchief and my cane of clouded amber, and
take care of madame until her husband and I return."

It was bright daylight now, and the square enclosure
within the stockade was filled with an anxious crowd who
had just learned the evil tidings. Most of the censitaires
were old soldiers and trappers who had served in many
Indian wars, and whose swarthy faces and bold bearing told
their own story. They were sons of a race which with better
fortune or with worse has burned more powder than any
other nation upon earth, and as they stood in little groups
discussing the situation and examining their arms, a leader
could have asked for no more hardy or more war-like follow-
ing. The women, however, pale and breathless, were
hurrying in from the outlying cottages, dragging their
children with them, and bearing over their shoulders the
more precious of their household goods. The confusion,
the hurry, the cries of the children, the throwing down of
bundles and the rushing back for more, contrasted sharply
with the quiet and the beauty of the woods which encircled
them, all bathed in the bright morning sunlight. It was
strange to look upon the fairy loveliness of their many-tinted

338 THE REFUGEES.

foliage, and to know that the spirit of murder and cruelty
was roaming unchained behind that lovely screen.

The scouting party under Du Lhut and Achille de la
Noue had already left, and at the order of the seigneur the
two gates were now secured with huge bars of oak fitted
into iron staples on either side. The children were placed
in the lower store-room with a few women to watch them,
while the others were told off to attend to the fire buckets,
and to reload the muskets. The men had been paraded,
fifty-two of them in all, and they were divided into parties
now for the defence of each part of the stockade. On one
side it had been built up to within a few yards of the river,
which not only relieved them from the defence of that face,
but enabled them to get fresh water by throwing a bucket at
the end of a rope from the stockade. The boats and canoes
of Sainte Marie were drawn up on the bank just under the
wall, and were precious now as offering a last means of
escape should all else fail. The next fort, St. Louis, was
but a few leagues up the river, and De la Noue had already
sent a swift messenger to them with news of the danger.
At least it would be a point on which they might retreat
should the worst come to the worst.

And that the worst might come to the worst was very evi-
dent to so experienced a woodsman as Amos Green. He
had left Ephraim Savage snoring in a deep sleep upon the
floor, and was now walking round the defences with his pipe
in his mouth, examining with a critical eye every detail in
connection with them. The stockade was very strong, nine
feet high and closely built of oak stakes which were thick
enough to turn a bullet. Half way up it was loop-holed in
long narrow slits for the fire of the defenders. But on the
other hand the trees grew up to within a hundred yards of
it, and formed a screen for the attack, while the garrison
was so scanty that it could not spare more than twenty men
at the utmost for each face. Amos knew how daring and

THE TAPPING OF DEATH. 339

dashing were the Iroquois warriors, how cunning and fertile
of resource, and his face darkened as he thought of the
young wife who had come so far in their safe-keeping, and of
the women and children whom he had seen crowding into
the fort.

" Would it not be better if you could send them up the
river ? ': he suggested to the seigneur.

" I should very gladly do so, monsieur, and perhaps if we
are all alive we may manage it to-night if the weather should
be cloudy. But I cannot spare the men to guard them, and
I cannot send them without a guard when we know that
Iroquois canoes are on the river and their scouts are swarm-
ing on the banks."

" You are right. It would be madness."

" I have stationed you on this eastern face with your
friends and with fifteen men. Monsieur de Catinat, will
you command the party ? '

"Willingly."

" I will take the south face as it seems to be the point of
danger, Du Lhut can take the north, and five men should
be enough to watch the river side."

" Have we food and powder ? ';

" I have flour and smoked eels enough to see this matter
through. Poor fare, my dear sir, but I daresay you learned
in Holland that a cup of ditch water after a brush may have
a better smack than the blue-sealed Frontiniac which you
helped me to finish the other night. As to powder, we have
all our trading stores to draw upon."

"We have not time to clear any of these trees ? " asked
the soldier.

" Impossible. They would make better shelter down
than up."

" But at least I might clear that patch of brushwood round
the birch sapling which lies between the east face and the
edge of the forest* It is good cover for their skirmishers."

34° THE REFUGEES.

" Yes, that should be fired without delay. "

"Nay, I think that I might do better," said Amos. "We
might bait a trap for them there. Where is this powder of
which you spoke ? '

" Theuriet, the major-domo, is giving out powder in the
main store-house."

"Very good." Amos vanished upstairs, and returned
with a large linen bag in his hand. This he filled with
powder, and then, slinging it over his shoulder, he carried it
out to the clump of bushes and placed it at the base of the
sapling, cutting a strip out of the bark immediately above
the spot. Then with a few leafy branches and fallen leaves
he covered the powder bag very carefully over so that it
looked like a little hillock of earth. Having arranged all to
his satisfaction he returned, clambering over the stockade,
and dropping down upon the other side.

" I think that we are all ready for them now," said the
seigneur. " I would that the women and children were in a
safe place, but we may send them down the river to-night
if all goes well. Has anyone heard anything of Du Lhut?"

"Jean has the best ears of any of us, your excellency,"
said one man from beside the brass corner cannon. " He
thought that he heard shots a few minutes ago."

"Then he has come into touch with them. Etienne, take
ten men and go to the withered oak to cover them if they
are retreating, but do not go another yard on any pretext. I
am too short-handed already. Perhaps, De Catinat, you
wish to sleep ? '

" No, I could not sleep."

1 We can do no more down here. What do you say to
a round or two of piquet ? A little turn of the cards will
help us to pass the time."

They ascended to the upper hall where Adele came and
sat by her husband, while the swarthy Onega crouched by
the window looking keenly out into the forest. De Catinat

THE TAPPING OF DEATH. 341

had little thought to spare upon the cards, as his mind
wandered to the danger which threatened them and to the
woman whose hand rested upon his own. The old noble-
man, on the other hand, was engrossed by the play, and
cursed under his breath, or chuckled and grinned as the luck
swayed one way or the other. Suddenly as they played
there came two sharp raps from without.

" Some one is tapping," cried Adele.

"It is death that is tapping," said the Indian woman at
the window.

" Aye, aye, it was the patter of two spent balls against
the woodwork. The wind is against our hearing the report.
The cards are shuffled. It is my cut and your deal. The
capot, I think, was mine."

" Men are rushing from the woods," cried Onega.

" Tut ! It grows serious ! ' said the nobleman. " We
can finish the game later. Remember that the deal lies
with you. Let us see what it all means."

De Catinat had already rushed to the window. Du Lhut,
young Achille de la Noue, and eight of the covering party
were running with their heads bent towards the stockade,
the door of which had been opened to admit them. Here
and there from behind the trees came little blue puffs of
smoke, and one of the fugitives who wore white calico
breeches began suddenly to hop instead of running and a
red splotch showed upon the white cloth. Two others
threw their arms round him and the three rushed in abreast
while the gate swung into its place behind them. An
instant later the brass cannon at the corner gave a flash
and a roar while the whole outline of the wood was traced in
a rolling cloud, and the shower of bullets rapped up against
the wooden wall like sleet on a window.

342

a
u

CHAPTER XXXVI.
THE TAKING OF THE STOCKADE,

HAVING left Adele to the care of her Indian hostess, and
warned her for her life to keep from the windows, De Cati-
nat seized his musket and rushed downstairs. As he passed
a bullet came piping through one of the narrow embrasures
and starred itself in a little blotch of lead upon the opposite
wall. The seigneur had already descended and was con-
versing with Du Lhut beside the door.
A thousand of them, you say ? '

Yes, we came on a fresh trail of a large war-party, three
hundred at the least. They are all Mohawks and Cayugas
with a sprinkling of Oneidas. We had a running fight for a
few miles, and we have lost five men."

"All dead, I trust."

" I hope so, but we were hard pressed to keep from being
cut off. Jean Mance is shot through the leg."

" I saw that he was hit."

" We had best have all ready to retire to the house if
they carry the stockade. We can scarce hope to hold it
when they are twenty to one."

"All is ready."

" And with our cannon we can keep their canoes from
passing, so we might send our women away to-night."

" I had intended to do so. Will you take charge of the
north side ? You might come across to me with ten of your
men now, and I shall go back to you if they change their
attack."

The firing came in one continuous rattle now from the
edges of the wood, and the air was full of bullets. The

THE TAKING OF THE STOCKADE. 343

assailants were all trained shots, men who lived "by their
guns, and to whom a shaking hand or a dim eye meant
poverty and hunger. Every slit and crack and loop-hole
was marked and a cap held above the stockade was blown
in an instant from the gun barrel which supported it. On
the other hand, the defenders were also skilled in Indian
fighting, and wise in every trick and lure which could
protect themselves or tempt their enemies to show. They
kept well to the sides of the loop-holes, watching through
little crevices of the wood, and firing swiftly when a chance
offered. A red leg sticking straight up into the air from
behind a log showed where one bullet at least had gone
home, but there was little to aim at save a puff and flash
from among the leaves, or the shadowy figure of a warrior
seen for an instant as he darted from one tree-trunk to the
other. Seven of the Canadians had already been hit, but
only three were mortally wounded, and the other four still
kept manfully to their loop-holes, though one who had been
struck through the jaw was spitting his teeth with his
bullets down into his gun barrel. The women sat in a line
upon the ground, beneath the level of the loop-holes, each
with a saucerful of bullets and a canister of powder, passing
up the loaded guns to the fighting men at the points where
a quick fire was most needful.

At first the attack had been all upon the south face, but
as fresh bodies of the Iroquois came up their line spread
and lengthened until the whole east face was girt with fire,
which gradually enveloped the north also. The fort was
ringed in by a great loop of smoke, save only where the
broad river flowed past them. Over near the further bank
the canoes were lurking, and one, manned by ten warriors,
attempted to pass up the stream, but a good shot from the
brass gun dashed in her side and sank her, while a second
of grape left only four of the swimmers whose high scalp-
locks stood out above the water like the back-fins of some

344 THE REFUGEES.

strange fish. On the inland side, however, the seigneur had
ordered the cannon to be served no more, for the broad
embrasures drew the enemy's fire, and of the men who had
been struck half were among those who worked the guns.

The old nobleman strutted about with his white ruffles
and his clouded cane behind the line of parched smoke-
grimed men, tapping his snuff box, shooting out his little
jests, and looking very much less concerned than he had
done over his piquet.

" What do you think of it, Du Lhut ? " he asked.

" I think very badly of it. We are losing men much too
fast."

" Well, my friend, what can you expect ? When a thou-
sand muskets are all turned upon a little place like this,
some one must suffer for it. Ah, my poor fellow, so you are
done for too ! '

The man nearest him had suddenly fallen with a crash,
lying quite still with his face in a platter of the sagamite
which had been brought out by the women. Du Lhut
glanced at him and then looked round.

" He is in a line with no loop-hole, and it took him in the
shoulder," said he. " Where did it come from then ? Ah,
by Saint Anne, look there ! ' He pointed upwards to a little
mist of smoke which hung round the summit of a high oak.

" The rascal overlooks the stockade. But the trunk is
hardly thick enough to shield him at that height. This
poor fellow will not need his musket again, and I see that it
is ready primed." De la Noue laid down his cane, turned
back his ruffles, picked up the dead man's gun, and fired at
the lurking warrior. Two leaves fluttered out from the tree
and a grinning vermilion face appeared for an instant with
a yell of derision. Quick as a flash Du Lhut brought his
musket to his shoulder and pulled the trigger. The man
gave a tremendous spring and crashed down through the
thick foliage. Some seventy or eighty feet below him a single

THE TAKING OF THE STOCKADE. 345

stout branch shot out and on to this he fell with the sound
of a great stone dropping into a bog, and hung there doubled
over it, swinging slowly from side to side like a red rag, his
scalp-lock streaming down between his feet. A shout of
exultation rose from the Canadians at the sight, which was
drowned in the murderous yell of the savages.

" His limbs twitch. He is not dead," cried De la Noue.

"Let him die there," said the old pioneer callously,
ramming a fresh charge into his gun. "Ah, there is the
gray hat again. It comes ever when I am unloaded."

" I saw a plumed hat among the brushwood."

" It is the Flemish Bastard. I had rather have his scalp
than those of his hundred best warriors."

" Is he so brave then ? '

"Yes, he is brave enough. There is no denying it, for
how else could he be an Iroquois war-chief? But he is
clever and cunning, and cruel - — Ah, my God, if all the
stories told are true, his cruelty is past believing. I should
fear that my tongue would wither if I did but name the
things which this man has done. Ah, he is there again."

The gray hat with the plume had shown itself once more
in a rift of the smoke. De la Noue and Du Lhut both fired
together, and the cap fluttered up into the air. At the same
instant the bushes parted and a tall warrior sprang out into
full view of the defenders. His face was that of an Indian,
but a shade or two lighter, and a pointed black beard hung
down over his hunting tunic. He threw out his h^nds with
a gesture of disdain, stood for an instant looking steadfastly
at the fort, and then sprang back into cover amid a shower
of bullets which chipped away the twigs all round him

" Yes, he is brave enough," Du Lhut repeated with an oath.
" Your censitaires have had their hoes in their hands more
often than their muskets, I should judge from their shooting.
But they seem to be drawing closer upon the east face, and
I think that they will make a rush there before long."

346 THE REFUGEES.

The fire had indeed grown very much fiercer upon the
side which was defended by De Catinat, and it was plain
that the main force of the Iroquois were gathered at that
point. From every log, and trunk, and cleft, and bush
came the red flash with the gray halo, and the bullets sang
in a continuous stream through the loop-holes. Amos had
whittled a little hole for himself about a foot above the
ground, and lay upon his face loading and firing in his
own quiet methodical fashion. Beside him stood Ephraim
Savage, his mouth set grimly, his eyes flashing from under
his down-drawn brows, and his whole soul absorbed in the
smiting of the Amalekites. His hat was gone, his grizzled
hair flying in the breeze, great splotches of powder mottled
his mahogany face and a weal across his right cheek showed
where an Indian bullet had grazed him. De Catinat was
bearing himself like an experienced soldier, walking up and
down among his men with short words of praise or of pre-
cept, those fire-words rough and blunt which bring a glow
to the heart and a flush to the cheek. Seven of his men
were down, but as the attack grew fiercer upon his side it
slackened upon the others, and the seigneur with his son
and Du Lhut brought ten men to reinforce him. De la
Noue was holding out his snuff box to De Catinat when a
shrill scream from behind them made them both look round.
Onega the Indian wife was wringing her hands over the
body of her son. A glance showed that the bullet had
pierced his heart and that he was dead.

For an instant the old nobleman's thin face grew a shade
paler, and the hand which held out the little gold box shook
like a branch in the wind. Then he thrust it into his pocket
again and mastered the spasm which had convulsed his
features.

"The De la Xoues always die upon the field of honour,''
he remarked. ''I think that we should have some more
men in the angle by the gun."

-mm

.JHuij.i^ '. --- -

: -

^ i

DEFENDING THE STOCKADE

THE TAKING OF THE STOCKADE, 347

And now it became clear why it was that the Iroquois
had chosen the eastern face for their main attack. It was
there that the clump of cover lay midway between the edge
of the forest and the stockade. A storming party could
creep as far as that and gather there for the final rush
First one crouching warrior, and then a second, and then a
third darted across the little belt of open space, and threw
themselves down among the bushes. The fourth was hit
and lay with his back broken a few paces out from the edge
of the wood, but a stream of warriors continued to venture
the passage, until thirty-six had got across and the little
patch of underwood was full of lurking savages. Amos
Green's time had come.

From where he lay he could see the white patch where he
had cut the bark from the birch sapling, and he knew that
immediately underneath it lay the powder bag. He sighted
the mark, and then slowly lowered his barrel until he had
got to the base of the little trees as nearly as he could guess
it among the tangle of bushes. The first shot produced no
result, however, and the second was aimed a foot lower.
The bullet penetrated the bag and there was an explosion
which shook the manor-house, and swayed the whole line
of stout stockades as though they were corn-stalks in a
breeze. Up to the highest summits of the trees went the
huge column of blue smoke, and after the first roar there was
a deathly silence which was broken by the patter and thud of
falling bodies. Then came a wild cheer from the defenders,
and a furious answering whoop from the Indians, while the
fire from the woods burst out with greater fury than ever.

But the blow had been a heavy one. Of the thirty-six
warriors, all picked for their valour, only four regained the
shelter of the woods, and those so torn and shattered that
they were spent men. Already the Indians had lost heavily,
and this fresh disaster made them reconsider their plan of
attack, for the Iroquois were as wary as they were brave, and

34g THE REFUGEES.

he was esteemed the best war-chief who was most chary of
the lives of his followers. Their fire gradually slackened,
and at last, save for a dropping shot here and there, it died
away altogether.

" Is it possible that they axe going to abandon the
attack!' cried De Catinat joyously. "Amos, I believe that
you have saved us."

But the wily Du Lhut shook his head. "A wolf would
as soon leave a half-gnawed bone as an Iroquois such a
prize as this."

" But they have lost heavily."

"Aye, but not so heavily as ourselves in proportion to
our numbers. They have fifty out of a thousand, and we
twenty out of threescore. No, no, they are holding a
council, and we shall soon hear from them again. But it
may be some hours first, and if you will take my advice you
will have an hour's sleep, for you are not, as I can see by
your eyes, as used to doing without it as I am, and there
may be little rest for any of us this night."

De Catinat was indeed weary to the last pitch of human
endurance. Amos Green and the seaman had already wrapt
themselves in their blankets and sunk to sleep under the
shelter of the stockade. The soldier rushed upstairs to say
a few words of comfort to the trembling Adele, and then
throwing himself down upon a couch he slept the dreamless
sleep of an exhausted man. When at last he was roused
by a fresh sputter of musketry fire from the woods the sun
was already low in the heavens and the mellow light of
evening tinged the bare walls of the room. He sprang from
his couch, seized his musket, and rushed downstairs. The
defenders were gathered at their loop-holes once more, while
Du Lhut, the seigneur, and Amos Green were whispering
eagerly together. He noticed as he passed that Onega still
sat crooning by the body of her son without having changed
her position since morning.

THE TAKING OF THE STOCKADE. 349

"What is it. then ? Are they coming on ? ' he asked

" They are up to some devilry," said Du Lhut, peering
out at the corner of the embrasure. "They are gathering-
thickly at the east fringe, and yet the firing comes from the
south. It is not the Indian way to attack across the open,
and yet if they think help is coming from the fort they might
venture it.'

" The wood in front of us is alive with them," said Amos.
" They are as busy as beavers among the underwood."

" Perhaps they are going to attack from this side, and
cover the attack by a fire from the flank."

"That is what I think," cried the seigneur. "Bring
the spare guns up here and all the men except five for each

side."

The words were hardly out of his mouth when a shrill yell

burst from the wood, and in an instant a cloud of warriors

dashed out and charged across the open, howling, springing,

and waving their guns or tomahawks in the air. With their

painted faces, smeared and striped with every vivid colour,

their streaming scalp-locks, their waving arms, their open

mouths, and their writhings and contortions, no more

fiendish crew ever burst into a sleeper's nightmare. Some

of those in front bore canoes between them, and as they

reached the stockade they planted them against it and

swarmed up them as if they had been scaling ladders.

Others fired through the embrasures and loop-holes, the

muzzles of their muskets touching those of the defenders,

while others again sprang unaided on to the tops of the

palisades and jumped fearlessly down upon the inner side.

The Canadians, however, made such a resistance as might

be expected from men who knew that no mercy awaited

them. They fired whilst they had time to load, and then

clubbing their muskets they smashed furiously at every red

head which showed above the rails. The din within the

stockade was infernal, the shouts and cries of the French,

350 THE REFUGEES.

the whooping of the savages, and the terrified screaming of
the frightened women blending into one dreadful uproar,
above which could be heard the high shrill voice of the old
seigneur imploring his censitaires to stand fast. With his
rapier in his hand, his hat lost, his wig awry, and his dignity
all thrown to the winds, the old nobleman showed them that
day how a soldier of Rocroy could carry himself, and with
Du Lhut, Amos, De Catinat and Ephraim Savage, was ever
in the forefront of the defence. So desperately did they
fight, the sword and musket butt outreaching the tomahawk,
that though at one time fifty Iroquois were over the pali-
sades they had slain or driven back nearly all of them when
a fresh wave burst suddenly over the south face which had
been stripped of its defenders. Du Lhut saw in an instant
that the enclosure was lost and that only one thing could
save the house.

"Hold them for an instant,' he screamed, and rushing:

' o

at the brass gun he struck his flint and steel and fired it
straight into the thick of the savages. Then as they recoiled
for an instant he stuck a nail into the touch-hole and drove
it home with a blow from the butt of his gun. Darting
across the yard he spiked the gun at the other corner, and
was back at the door as the remnants of the garrison were
hurled towards it by the rush of the assailants. The Cana-
dians darted in, and swung the ponderous mass of wood
into position, breaking the leg of the foremost warrior who
had striven to follow them. Then for an instant they had
time for breathing and for council

CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE COMING OF THE FRIAR.

BUT their case was a very evil one. Had the guns been lost
so that they might be turned upon the door, all further re-
sistance would have been vain, but Du Lhut's presence of
mind had saved them from that danger. The two guns
upon the river face, and the canoes were safe, for they were
commanded by the windows of the house. But their
numbers were terribly reduced and those who were left
were weary and wounded and spent. Nineteen had gained
the house, but one had been shot through the body and lay
groaning in the hall, while a second had his shoulder cleft
by a tomahawk and could no longer raise his musket. Du
Lhut, De la Noue and De Catinat were uninjured, but
Ephraim Savage had a bullet hole in his forearm, and
Amos was bleeding from a cut upon the face. Of the others
hardly one was without injury, and yet they had no time to
think of their hurts for the danger still pressed and the;y
were lost unless they acted. A few shots from the barri-
caded windows sufficed to clear the enclosure, for it was all
exposed to their aim, but on the other hand they had the
shelter of the stockade now, and from the further side of it
they kept up a fierce fire upon the windows. Half a dozen
of the censitaires returned the fusillade, while the leaders
consulted as to what had best be done.

"We have twenty-five women and fourteen children,"
said the seigneur. " I am sure that you will agree with
me, gentlemen, that our first duty is towards them. Some
of you, like myself, have lost sons or brothers this day.
Let us at least save our wives and sisters."

No Iroquois canoes have passed up the river ' said one

. .

352 THE REFUGEES.

of the Canadians. " If the women start in the darkness
they can get away to the fort."

" By Saint Anne of Beaupre," exclaimed Du Lhut, " I
think it would be well if you could get your men out of this
also, for I cannot see how it is to be held until morning."

A murmur of assent broke from the other Canadians, but
the old nobleman shook his bewigged head with decision.

" Tut ! Tut! what nonsense is this!' he cried. "Are
we to abandon the manor-house of Sainte Marie to the first
gang of savages who choose to make an attack upon it ? No,
no, gentlemen, there are still nearly a score of us, and when
the garrison learn that we are so pressed, which will be by
to-morrow morning at the latest, they will certainly send us
relief."

Du Lhut shook his head moodily.

" If you stand by the fort I will not desert you," said he,
" and yet it is a pity to sacrifice brave men for nothing."

" The canoes will hardly hold the women and children as
it is," cried Theuriet. " There are but two large and four
small. There is not space for a single man."

"Then that decides it," said De Catinat. " But who are
to row the women ? ''

"It is but a few leagues with the current in their favour,
and there are none of our women who do not know how to
handle a paddle."

The Iroquois were very quiet now, and an occasional
dropping shot from the trees or the stockade was the only
sign of their presence. Their losses had been heavy, and
they were either engaged in collecting their dead, or in
holding a council as to their next move. The twilight was
gathering in, and the sun had already sunk beneath the tree-
tops. Leaving a watchman at each window the leaders
went round to the back of the house where the canoes were
lying upon the bank. There were no signs of the enemy
upon the river to the north of them.

fHE COMING OF THE FRIAR. 353

" We are in luck," said Amos. " The clouds are gathering
and there will be little light."

" It is luck indeed, since the moon is only three days past
the full," answered Du Lhut. " I wonder that the Iroquois
have not cut us off upon the water, but it is likely that
their canoes have gone south to bring up another war-
party. They may be back soon, and we had best not lose
a moment."

" In an hour it might be dark enough to start."

" I think that there is rain in those clouds, and that will
make it darker still."

The women and children were assembled and their places
tn each boat were assigned to them. The wives of the
censitaires, rough hardy women whose lives had been spent
under the shadow of a constant danger, were for the most
part quiet and collected, though a few of the younger ones
whimpered a little. A woman is always braver when she
has a child to draw her thoughts from herself, and each
married woman had one now allotted to her as her own
special charge until they should reach the fort. To Onega,
the Indian wife of the seigneur, who was as wary and as
experienced as a war sachem of her people, the command of
the women was entrusted.

"It is not very far, Adele," said De Catinat, as his wife
clung to his arm. "You remember how we heard the
Angelus bells as we journeyed through the woods. That
was Fort St. Louis, and it is but a league or two.''

'• But I do not wish to leave you, Amory. We have been
together in all our troubles. Oh, Amory, why should we be
divided now ? '

" My dear love, you will tell them at the fort how things
are with us, and they will bring us help."

" Let the others do that, and I will stay. I will not be
useless, Amory. Onega has taught me to load a gun. I will
not be afraid, indeed I will not, if you will only let me stay."

354 THE REFUGEES.

11 You must not ask it, Adele. It is impossible, child, t
could not let you stay."

" But I feel so sure that it would be best."

The coarser reason of man has not yet learned to value
those subtle instincts which guide a woman. De Catinat
argued and exhorted until he had silenced if he had not
convinced her.

" It is for my sake, dear. You do not know what a load
it will be from my heart when I know that you are safe.
And you need not be afraid for me. We can easily hold the
place until morning. Then the people from the fort will
come, for I hear that they have plenty of canoes, and we
shall all meet again."

Adele was silent, but her hands tightened upon his arm.
Her husband was still endeavouring to reassure her when
a groan burst from the watcher at the window which over-
looked the stream.

"There is a canoe on the river to the north of us," he
cried.

The besieged looked at each other in dismay. The Iro-
quois had then cut off their retreat after all.

" How many warriors are in it ? ' asked the seigneur.

" I cannot see. The light is not very good, and it is in
the shadow of the bank."

" Which way is it coming ? '

" It is coming this way. Ah, it shoots out into the open
now, and I can see it. May the good Lord be praised ! A
dozen candles shall burn in Quebec Cathedral if I live till
next summer ! '

"What is it then ? " cried De la Noue impatiently.

" It is not an Iroquois canoe. There is but one man in
it. He is a Canadian."

" A Canadian ! " cried Du Lhut, springing up to the
window. " Who but a madman would venture into such
a hornet's nest alone ! Ah, yes, I can see him now. He

THE COMING OP TttB FRIAR. 355

keeps well out from the bank to avoid their fire. Now he
is in mid-stream and he turns towards us. By my faith,
it is not the first time that the good father has handled a
paddle."

" It is a Jesuit! ' said one craning his neck. "They are
ever where there is most danger."

" No, I can see his capote," cried another. " It is a
Franciscan friar ! '

An instant later there was the sound of a canoe grounding
upon the pebbles, the door was unbarred, and a man strode
in, attired in the long brown gown of the Franciscans. He
cast a rapid glance around, and then, stepping up to De
Catinat, laid his hand upon his shoulder.

" So, you have not escaped me!' said he. "We have
caught the evil seed before it has had time to root."

" What do you mean, father ? ' asked the seigneur,
"You have made some mistake. This is my good friend
Amory de Catinat, of a noble French family/'

" This is Amory de Catinat, the heretic and Huguenot,"
cried the monk. " I have followed him up the St. Law-
rence, and I have followed him up the Richelieu, and I
would have followed him to the world's end if I could but
bring him back with me."

" Tut, father, your zeal carries you too far," said the
seigneur. " Whither would you take my friend, then ? ':

" He shall go back to France with his wife. There is no
place in Canada for heretics."

Du Lhut burst out laughing. " By Saint Anne, father,"
said he, " if you could take us all back to France at present
we should be very much your debtors."

"And you will remember," said De la None sternly,
"that you are under my roof and that you are speaking
of my guest."

But the friar was not to be abashed by the frown of the
old nobleman.

356 THE REFUGEES.

" Look at this," said he, whipping a paper out of his
bosom. " It is signed by the governor, and calls upon
you under pain of the king's displeasure to return this
man to Quebec. Ah, monsieur, when you left me upon
the island that morning you little thought that I would
return to Quebec for this, and then hunt you down so many
hundreds of miles of river. But I have you now, and I
shall never leave you until I see you on board the ship
which will carry you and your wife back to France."

For all the bitter vindictiveness which gleamed in the
monk's eyes, De Catinat could not but admire the energy
and tenacity of the man.

" It seems to me, father, that you would have shone more
as a soldier than as a follower of Christ," said he ; " but,
since you have followed us here, and since there is no
getting away, we may settle this question at some later
time."

But the two Americans were less inclined to take so
peaceful a view. Ephraim Savage's beard bristled with
anger, and he whispered something into Amos Green's ear.

"The captain and I could easily get rid of him," said the
young woodsman, drawing De Catinat aside. " If he will
cross our path he must pay for it."

" No, no, not for the world, Amos ! Let him alone. He
does what he thinks to be his duty, though his faith is
stronger than his charity, I think. But here comes the rain,
and surely it is dark enough now for the boats."

A great brown cloud had overspread the heavens, and the
night had fallen so rapidly that they could hardly see the
gleam of the river in front of them. The savages in the
woods and behind the captured stockade were quiet, save
for an occasional shot, but the yells and whoops from the
cottages of the censitaires showed that they were being
plundered by their captors. Suddenly a dull red glow began
to show above one of the roofs.

THE COMING OF TtJE FRtA&.

" They have set it on fire," cried Du Lhut. " The canoes
must go at once, for the river will soon be as light as day.
In ! In ! There is not an instant to lose ! '

There was no time for leave-taking. One impassioned
kiss and Adele was torn away and thrust into the smallest
canoe, which she shared with Onega, two children and an
unmarried girl. The others rushed into their places, and in
a few moments they had pushed off and had vanished into
the drift and the darkness. The great cloud had broken and
the rain pattered heavily upon the roof, and splashed upon
their faces as they strained their eyes after the vanishing boats.

"Thank God for this storm ! " murmured Du Lhut. " It
will prevent the cottages from blazing up too quickly."

But he had forgotten that though the roofs might be wet
the interior was as dry as tinder. He had hardly spoken be-
fore a great yellow tongue of flame licked out of one of the
windows, and again and again, until suddenly half of the
roof fell in, and the cottage was blazing like a pitch-bucket.
The flames hissed and sputtered in the pouring rain, but, fed
from below, they grew still higher and fiercer, flashing redly
upon the great trees, and turning their trunks to burnished
brass. Their light made the enclosure and the manor-house
as clear as day, and exposed the whole long stretch of the
river. A fearful yell from the woods announced that the
savages had seen the canoes, which were plainly visible
from the windows not more than a quarter of a mile away.

" They are rushing through the woods. They are making
for the water's edge," cried De Catinat.

"They have some canoes down there," said Du Lhut.

" But they must pass us !" cried the Seigneur of Sainte Marie.
" Get down to the cannon and see if you cannot stop them."

They had hardly reached the guns when two large canoes
filled with warriors shot out from among the reeds below
the fort, and steering out into mid-stream began to paddle
furiously after the fugitives.

358 THE REFUGEES.

"Jean, you are our best shot," cried De la Noue. " Lay
for her as she passes the great pine tree. Lambert, do you
take the other gun. The lives of all whom you love may
hang upon the shot ! "

The two wrinkled old artillerymen glanced along their
guns and waited for the canoes to come abreast of them.
The fire still blazed higher and higher, and the broad river
lay like a sheet of dull metal with two dark lines, which
marked the canoes, sweeping swiftly down the centre. One
was fifty yards in front of the other, but in each the Indians
were bending to their paddles and pulling frantically, while
their comrades from the wooded shores whooped them on
to fresh exertions. The fugitives had already disappeared
round the bend of the river.

As the first canoe came abreast of the lower of the two
guns, the Canadian made the sign of the cross over the
touch-hole and fired. A cheer and then a groan went up
from the eager watchers. The discharge had struck the
surface close to the mark, and dashed such a shower of water
over it that for an instant it looked as if it had been sunk.
The next moment, however, the splash subsided and the
canoe shot away uninjured save that one of the rowers had
dropped his paddle while his head fell forward upon the
back of the man in front of him. The second gunner
sighted the same canoe as it came abreast of him, but at
the very instant when he stretched out his match to fire a
bullet came humming from the stockade and he fell forward
dead without a groan.

"This is work that I know something of, lad," said old
Ephraim, springing suddenly forward. " But when I fire a
gun I like to train it myself. Give me a help with the
handspike and get her straight for the island. So ! A little
lower for an even keel! Now we have them1." He clapped
down his match and fired.

It was a beautiful shot. The whole charge took the

w

u

•s.

a

THE COMING OF THE FRIAR. 359

canoe about six feet behind the bow, and doubled her up
like an eggshell. Before the smoke had cleared she had
foundered, and the second canoe had paused to pick up
some of the wounded men. The others, as much at home
in the water as in the woods, were already striking out for
the shore.

"Quick! quick!' cried the seigneur. "Load the gun!
We may get the second one yet ! '

But it was not to be. Long before they could get it ready
the Iroquois had picked up their wounded warriors, and
were pulling madly up stream once more. As they shot
away the fire died suddenly down in the burning cottages
and the rain and the darkness closed in upon them.

"My God!" cried De Catinat furiously, "they will be
taken. Let us abandon this place, take a boat and follow
them. Come ! Come ! Not an instant is to be lost ! '

" Monsieur, you go too far in your very natural anxiety,"
said the seigneur coldly. " I am not inclined to leave my
post so easily ! '

" Ah, what is it ? Only wood and stone which can be
built again. But to think of the women in the hands of
these devils. Oh, I am going mad ! Come ! Come ! For
Christ's sake come ! " His face was deadly pale, and he
raved with his clenched hands in the air.

" I do not think that they will be caught," said Du Lhut,
laying his hand soothingly upon his shoulder. " Do not
fear. They had a long start and the women here can paddle
as well as the men. Again, the Iroquois canoe was over-
loaded at the start, and has the wounded men aboard as
well now. Besides, these oak canoes of the Mohawks are
not as swift as the Algonquin birch barks which we use. In
any case it is impossible to follow, for we have no boat."

" There is one lying there."

"Ah, it will but hold a single man. It is that in which
the friar came."

360 THE REFUGEES.

"Then I am going in that! My place is with Adele ! "
He flung open the door, rushed out, and was about to push
off the frail skiff, when some one sprang past him, and with
a blow from a hatchet stove in the side of the boat.

" It is my boat," said the friar, throwing down the axe
and folding his arms. " I can do what I like with it."

"You fiend ! You have ruined us ! '

" I have found you and you shall not escape me again."

The hot blood flushed to the soldier's head, and picking
up the axe, he took a quick step forward. The light from
the open door shone upon the grave, harsh face of the friar,
but not a muscle twitched nor a feature changed as he saw
the axe whirl up in the hands of a furious man. He only
signed himself with the cross, and muttered a Latin prayer
under his breath. It was that composure which saved his
life. De Catinat hurled down the axe again with a bitter
curse, and was turning away from the shattered boat when
in an instant, without a warning, the great door of the
manor-house .crashed inwards, and a flood of whooping
savages burst into the house.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.
THE DINING HALL OF SAINTE MARIE.

WHAT had occurred is easily explained. The watchers in
the windows at the front found that it was more than flesh
and blood could endure to remain waiting at their posts
while the fates of their wives and children were being
decided at the back. All was quiet at the stockade and the
Indians appeared to be as absorbed as the Canadians in
what was passing upon the river. One by one, therefore,
the men on guard had crept away and had assembled at the
back to cheer the seaman's shot and to groan as the re-
maining canoe sped like a bloodhound down the river in the
wake of the fugitives. But the savages had one at their
head who was as full of wiles and resource as Du Lhut
himself. The Flemish Bastard had watched the house from
behind the stockade as a dog watches a rat hole, and he had
instantly discovered that the defenders had left their post.
With a score of other warriors he raised a great log from
the edge of the forest, and crossing the open space unchal-
lenged, he and his men rushed it against the door with such
violence as to crack the bar across and tear the wood from
the hinges. The first intimation which the survivors had
of the attack was the crash of the door, and the screams ot
two of the negligent watchmen who had been seized and
scalped in the hall. The whole basement floor was in the
hands of the Indians, and De Catinat and his enemy the
friar were cut off from the foot of the stairs.

Fortunately, however, the manor-houses of Canada were
built with the one idea of defence against Indians, and even

now there were hopes for the defenders. A wooden ladder

26

362 THE REFUGEES.

which could be drawn up in case of need hung down from
the upper windows to the ground upon the river side. De
Catinat rushed round to this, followed by the friar. He felt
about for the ladder in the darkness. It was gone.

Then indeed his heart sank in despair. Where could
he fly to ? The boat was destroyed. The stockades lay
between him and the forest, and they were in the hands of
the Iroquois. Their yells were ringing in his ears. They
had not seen him yet, but in a few minutes they must come
upon him. Suddenly he heard a voice from somewhere in
the darkness above him.

"Give me your gun, lad," it said. "I seethe loom of
some of the heathen down by the wall."

" It is I. It is I, Amos," cried De Catinat. " Down
with the ladder or I am a dead man."

" Have a care. It may be a ruse," said the voice of Du
Lhut.

" No, no, I'll answer for it," cried Amos, and an instant
later down came the ladder. De Catinat and the friar
rushed up it, and they hardly had their feet upon the rungs
when a swarm of warriors burst out from the door and
poured along the river bank. Two muskets flashed from
above, something plopped like a salmon in the water, and
next instant the two were among their comrades and the
ladder had been drawn up once more.

But it was a very small band who now held the last point
to which they could retreat. Only nine of them remained,
the seigneur, Du Lhut, the two Americans, the friar, De
Catinat, Theuriet the major-domo, and two of the censi-
taires. Wounded, parched, and powder-blackened, they
were still filled with the mad courage of desperate men
who knew that death could come in no more terrible form
than through surrender. The stone staircase ran straight
up from the kitchen to the main hall, and the door, which
had been barricaded across the lower part by two mattresses

THE DINING HALL OF SAlNTE MARIE. 363

commanded the whole flight. Hoarse whisperings and the
click of the cocking of guns from below told that the Iroquois
were mustering for a rush.

" Put the lantern by the door," said Du Lhut, " so that it
may throw the light upon the stair. There is only room for
three to fire, but you can all load and pass the guns. Mon-
sieur Green, will you kneel with me, and you, Jean Duval ?
If one of us is hit let another take his place at once. Now
be ready, for they are coming ! '

As he spoke there was a shrill whistle from below, and in
an instant the stair was filled with rushing red figures and
waving weapons. Bang ! Bang ! Bang ! went the three
guns, and then again and again Bang! Bang! Bang! The
smoke was so thick in the low-roofed room that they could
hardly see to pass the muskets to the eager hands which
grasped for them. But no Iroquois had reached the barri-
cade, and there was no patter of their feet now upon the
stair. Nothing but an angry snarling and an occasional
groan from below. The marksmen were uninjured, but
they ceased to fire and waited for the smoke to clear.

And when it cleared they saw how deadly their aim had
been at those close quarters. Only nine shots had been fired,
and seven Indians were littered up and down on the straight
stone stair. Five of them lay motionless, but two tried to
crawl slowly back to their friends. Du Lhut and the censi-
taire raised their muskets, and the two crippled men lay
still.

" By Saint Anne ! ' said the old pioneer, as he rammed
home another bullet. " If they have our scalps we have
sold them at a great price. A hundred squaws will be
howling in their villages when they hear of this day's work."

" Aye, they will not forget their welcome at Sainte Marie,"
said the old nobleman. " I must again express my deep
regret, my dear De Catinat, that you and your wife should
have been put to such inconvenience when you have been

364 THE REFUGEES.

good enough to visit me. I trust that she and the others
are safe at the fort by this time."

" May God grant that they are : Oh, I shall never have
an easy moment until I see her once more."

" If they are safe we may expect help in the morning, if
we can hold out so long. Chambly, the commandant, is
not a man to leave a comrade at a pinch."

The cards were still laid out at one end of the table, with
the tricks over-lapping each other as they had left them on
the previous morning. But there was something else there
of more interest to them, for the breakfast had not been
cleared away, and they had been fighting all day with
hardly bite or sup. Even when face to face with death
Nature still cries out for her dues, and the hungry men
turned savagely upon the loaf, the ham, and the cold wild
duck. A little cluster of wine bottles stood upon the buffet,
and these had their necks knocked off, and were emptied
down parched throats. Three men still took their turn,
however, to hold the barricade, for they were not to be
caught napping again. The yells and screeches of the
savages came up to them as though all the wolves of the
forest were cooped up in the basement, but the stair was
deserted save for the seven motionless figures.

"They will not try to rush us again," said Du Lhut with
confidence. " We have taught them too severe a lesson."

" They will set fire to the house."

" It will puzzle them to do that," said the major-domo.
" It is solid stone, walls and stair, save only for a few beams
of wood, very different from those other cottages."

"Hush ! " cried Amos Green, and raised his hand. The
yells had died away and they heard the heavy thud of a
mallet beating upon wood.

" What can it be ! "

" Some fresh devilry, no doubt.''

" I regret to say, messieurs," observed the seigneur, with

THE DINING HALL OF SAINTE MARIE. 365

no abatement of his courtly manner, "that it is my belief
that they have learned a lesson from our young friend here,
and that they are knocking out the heads of the powder-
barrels in the store-room."

But Du Lhut shook his head at the suggestion. " It is
not in a redskin to waste powder," said he. " It is a deal
too precious for them to do that. Ah, listen to that ! '

The yellings and screechings had begun again, but there
was a wilder, madder ring in their shrillness, and they were
mingled with snatches of song and bursts of laughter.

"Ha! It is the brandy casks which they have opened,"
cried Du Lhut. " They were bad before, but they will be
fiends out of hell now."

As he spoke there came another burst of whoops and high
above them a voice calling for mercy. With horror in their
eyes the survivors glanced from one to the other. A heavy
smell of burning flesh rose from below, and still that dread-
ful voice shrieking and pleading. Then slowly it quavered
away and was silent forever.

"Who was it ? " whispered De Catinat, his blood running
cold in his veins.

" It was Jean Corbeil, I think."

" May God rest his soul ! His troubles are over. Would
that we were as peaceful as he ! Ah, shoot him ! Shoot ! '

A man had suddenly sprung out at the foot of the stair
and had swung his arm as though throwing something. It
was the Flemish Bastard. Amos Green's musket flashed,
but the savage had sprung back again as rapidly as he
appeared. Something splashed down amongst them and
rolled across the floor in the lamp-light.

" Down ! Down ! It is a bomb ! ' cried De Catinat.

But it lay at Du Lhut's feet, and he had seen it clearly.
He took a cloth from the table and dropped it over it

" It is not a bomb," said he quietly, "and it was Jean
Corbeil who died."

366 THE REFUGEES

For four hours sounds of riot, of dancing and of revelling
rose up from the store-house, and the smell of the open
brandy casks filled the whole air. More than once the
savages quarrelled and fought among themselves, and it
seemed as if they had forgotten their enemies above, but
the besieged soon found that if they attempted to presume
upon this they were as closely watched as ever. The major-
domo, Theuriet, passing between a loop-hole and a light,
was killed instantly by a bullet from the stockade, and both
Amos and the old seigneur had narrow escapes until they
blocked all the windows save that which overlooked the
river. There was no danger from this one, and, as day was
already breaking once more, one or other of the party wa's
forever straining their eyes down the stream in search of
the expected succour.

Slowly the light crept up the eastern sky, a little line of
pearl, then a band of pink, broadening, stretching, spreading,
until it shot its warm colour across the heavens, tinging the
edges of the drifting clouds. Over the woodlands lay a thin
gray vapour, the tops of the high oaks jutting out like dim
islands from the sea of haze. Gradually as the light
increased the mist shredded off into little ragged whisps
which thinned and drifted away, until at last, as the sun
pushed its glowing edge over the eastern forests, it gleamed
upon the reds and oranges and purples of the fading leaves,
and upon the broad blue river which curled away to the
northward. De Catinat, as he stood at the window looking
out, was breathing in the healthy resinous scent of the trees,
mingled with the damp heavy odour of the wet earth, when
suddenly his eyes fell upon a dark spot upon the river to the
north of them.

" There is a canoe coming down !" he cried.

In an instant they had all rushed to the opening, but Du
Lhut sprang after them, and pulled them angrily towards
the door.

u
it

a

THE DINING HALL OF SAINTE MARIE. 367

" Do you wish to die before your time ! " he cried.

"Aye, aye!" said Captain Ephraim, who understood the
gesture if not the words. " We must leave a watch on
deck. Amos, lad, lie here with me and be ready if they
show."

The two Americans and the old pioneer held the barricade,
while the eyes of all the others were turned upon the ap-
proaching boat. A groan broke suddenly from the only sur-
viving censitaire.

It is an Iroquois canoe ! J: he cried.
Impossible ! "

Alas, your excellency, it is so, and it is the same one
which passed us last night."

" Ah, then the women have escaped them."

" I trust so. But alas, seigneur, I fear that there are
more in the canoe now than when they passed us."

The little group of survivors waited in breathless anxiety
while the canoe sped swiftly up the river, with a line of foam
on either side of her, and a long forked swirl in the waters
behind. They could see that she appeared to be very
crowded, but they remembered that the wounded of the
other boat were aboard her. On she shot and on, until
as she came abreast of the fort she swung round, and the
rowers raised their paddles and burst into a shrill yell of
derision. The stern of the canoe was turned towards them
now, and they saw that two women were seated in it. Even
at that distance there was no mistaking the sweet pale face,
or the dark queenly one beside it, The one was Onega anc}
the other was Adele.

368

CHAPTER XXXIX.

THE TWO SWIMMERS.

CHARLES DE LA NOUE, Seigneur de Sainte Marie, was a
hard and self-contained man, but a groan and a bitter curse
burst from him when he saw his Indian wife in the hands of
her kinsmen, from whom she could hope for little mercy.
Yet even now his old-fashioned courtesy to his guest had
made him turn to De Catinat with some words of sympathy,
when there was a clatter of wood, something darkened the
light of the window, and the young soldier was gone. With-
out a word he had lowered the ladder and was clambering
down it with frantic haste. Then as his feet touched the
ground he signalled to his comrades to draw it up again and
dashing into the river he swam towards the canoe. With-
out arms and without a plan he had but the one thought
that his place was by the side of his wife in this, the hour of
her danger. Fate should bring him what it brought her,
and he swore to himself as he clove a way with his strong
arms, that whether it were life or death they should still
share it together.

But there was another whose view of duty led him from
safety into the face of danger. All night the Franciscan
had watched De Catinat as a miser watches his treasure,
filled with the thought that this heretic was the one little
seed which might spread and spread until it choked the
chosen vineyard of the Church Now when he saw him
rush so suddenly down the ladder, every fear was banished
from his mind save the overpowering one that he was about
to lose his precious charge. He, too, clambered down at
the very heels of his prisoner, and rushed into the stream
not ten paces behind him.

THE TWO SWIMMERS. 365

And so the watchers at the window saw the strangest of
sights. There, in mid-stream, lay the canoe, with a ring of
dark warriors clustering in the stern, and the two women
crouching in the midst of them. Swimming madly towards
them was De Catinat rising to the shoulders with the
strength of every stroke, and behind him again was the
tonsured head of the friar, with his brown capote and long
trailing gown floating upon the surface of the water behind
him. But in his zeal he had thought too little of his own
powers. He was a good swimmer but he was weighted and
hampered by his unwieldy clothes. Slower and slower grew
his stroke, lower and lower his head, until at last with a
great shriek of In manus tuas, Domine ! he threw up his
hands, and vanished in the swirl of the river. A minute
later the watchers, hoarse with screaming to him to return,
saw De Catinat pulled aboard the Iroquois canoe, which
was instantly turned, and continued its course up the river.

"My God!' cried Amos hoarsely. "They have taken
him. He is lost ! '

" I have seen some strange things in these forty years,
but never the like of that ! ' said Du Lhut.

The seigneur took a little pinch of snuff from his gold box,
and flicked the wandering grains from his shirt-front with
his dainty lace handkerchief.

" Monsieur de Catinat has acted like a gentleman of
France," said he. " If I could swim now as I did thirty
years ago, I should be by his side."

Du Lhut glanced round him and shook his head. " We
are only six now," said he. " I fear they are up to some
devilry because they are so very still."

"They are leaving the house ! ' cried the censitaire, who
was peeping through one of the side windows. " What can
it mean ? Holy Virgin, is it possible that we are saved ?
See how they throng through the trees. They are making
for the canoe. Now they are waving their arms and pointing.'1

370 THE REFUGEES.

" There is the gray hat of that mongrel devil amongst
them," said the captain. " I would try a shot upon him
were it not a waste of powder and lead."

" I have hit the mark at as long a range," said Amos,
pushing his long brown gun through a chink in the barricade
which they had thrown across the lower half of the windcv;.
" I would give my next years trade to bring him down."

'•' It is forty paces farther than my musket would carry,"
remarked Du Lhut, " but I have seen the English shoot a
great way with those long guns."

Amos took a steady aim, resting his gun upon the window
sill, and fired. A shout of delight burst from the little knot
of survivors. The Flemish Bastard had fallen. But he
was on his feet again in an instant and shook his hand
defiantly at the window.

"Curse it!' cried Amos bitterly, in English. "I have
hit him with a spent ball. As well strike him with a
pebble."

" Nay, curse not, Amos, lad, but try him again with
another pinch of powder if your gun will stand it."

The woodsman thrust in a full charge, and chose a well-
rounded bullet from his bag, but when he looked again both
the Bastard and his warriors had disappeared. On the
river the single Iroquois canoe which held the captives was
speeding south as swiftly as twenty paddles could drive
it, but save this one dark streak upon the blue stream, not a
sign was to be seen of their enemies. They had vanished
as if they had been an evil dream. There was the bullet-
spotted stockade, the litter of dead bodies inside it, the
burned and roofless cottages, but the silent woods lay
gleaming in the morning sunshine as quiet and peaceful as
if no hell-burst of fiends had ever broken out from them.

" By my faith. I believe that they have gone ! '' cried the
seigneur.

" Take care that it is not a ruse," said Du Lhut. •' Why

THE TWO SWIMMERS, 371

should they fly before six men when they have conquered
sixty ? '

But the censUaire had looked out of the other window,
and in an instant he was down upon his knees with his
hands in the air, and his powder-blackened face turned
upwards, pattering out prayers and thanksgivings. His
five comrades rushed across the room and burst into a
shriek of joy. The upper reach of the river was covered
with a flotilla of canoes from which the sun struck quick
flashes as it shone upon the musket barrels and trappings of
the crews. Already they could see the white coats of the
regulars, the brown tunics of the coureurs-de-bois^ and the
gaudy colours of the Hurons and Algonquins. On they
swept, dotting the whole breadth of the river, and growing
larger every instant, while far away on the southern bend,
the Iroquois canoe was a mere moving dot which had shot
away to the farther side and lost itself presently under the
shadow of the trees. Another minute and the survivors
were out upon the bank, waving their caps in the air while
the prows of the first of their rescuers were already grating
upon the pebbles. In the stern of the very foremost canoe
sat a wizened little man with a large brown wig, and a gilt-
headed rapier laid across his knees. He sprang out as the
keel touched bottom, splashing through the shallow water
with his high leather boots, and rushing up to the seigneur,
he flung himself into his arms.

" My dear Charles," he cried, "you have held your house
like a hero. What, only six of you ! Tut, tut, this has
been a bloody business ! '

" I knew that you would not desert a comrade, Chambly.
We have saved the house but our losses have been terrible.
My son is dead. My wife is in that Iroquois canoe in front
of you."

The commandant of Fort St. Louis pressed his friend's
hand in silent sympathy.

372 THE REFUGEES.

" The others arrived all safe,'3 he said at last. " Only
that one was taken, on account of the breaking of a paddle.
Three were drowned and two captured. There was a French
lady in it, I understand, as well as madame."

" Yes, and they have taken her husband as well."
" Ah, poor souls ! Well, if you are strong enough to join
us, you and your friends, we shall follow after them without
the loss of an instant. Ten of my men will remain to guard
the house, and you can have their canoe. Jump in then,
and forward, for life and death may hang upon our speed ! '*

273

CHAPTER XL.

THE END.

THE Iroquois had not treated De Catinat harshly when they
dragged him from the water into their canoe. So incompre-
hensible was it to them why any man should voluntarily
leave a place of safety in order to put himself in their power
that they could only set it down to madness, a malady which
inspires awe and respect among the Indians. They did not
even tie his wrists, for why should he attempt to escape
when he had come of his own free will ? Two warriors
passed their hands over him, to be sure that he was unarmed,
and he was then thrust down between the two women while
the canoe darted in towards the bank to tell the others that
the St. Louis garrison was coming up the stream. Then it
steered out again, and made its way swiftly up the centre of
the river. Adele was deadly pale and her hand, as her hus-
band laid his upon it, was as cold as marble.

"My darling," he whispered, "tell me that all is well
with you — that you are unhurt ! '

"Oh, Amory, why did you come? Why did you come,
Amory ? Oh, I think I could have borne anything, but if
they hurt you I could not bear that."

" How could I stay behind when I knew that you were in
their hands ? I should have gone mad ! '

" Ah, it was my one consolation to think that you were
safe."

" No, no, we have gone through so much together that
we cannot part now. What is death, Adele ? Why should
we be afraid of it ? '

" I am not afraid of it."

374 ?ti£ REFUGEES.

" And I am not afraid of it. Things will come about aS
God wills it, and what He wills must in the end be the best.
If we live, then we have this memory in common. If we
die, then we go hand-in-hand into another life. Courage,
my own, all will be well with us."

"Tell me, monsieur," said Onega, "is my lord still living?"

" Yes, he is alive and well"

" It is good. He is a great chief, and I have never been
sorry, not even now, that I have wedded with one who was
not of my own people. But ah, my son ! Who shall give
my son back to me ? He was like the young sapling, so
straight and so strong ! Who could run with him? or leap
with him, or swim with him ? Ere that sun shines again
we shall all be dead, and my heart is glad, for I shall see
my boy once more."

The Iroquois paddles had bent to their work until a good
ten miles lay between them and Sainte Marie. Then they
ran the canoe into a little creek upon their own side of the
river, and sprang out of her, dragging the prisoners after
them. The canoe was carried on the shoulders of eight
men some distance into the wood, where they concealed it
between two fallen trees, heaping a litter of branches over it
to screen it from view. Then, after a short council, they
started through the forest walking in single file, with their
three prisoners in the middle. There were fifteen warriors
in all, eight in front and seven behind, all armed with
muskets and as swift-footed as deer, so that escape was out
of the question. They could but follow on, and wait in
patience for whatever might befall them.

All day they pursued their dreary march, picking their
way through vast morasses, skirting the borders of blue
woodland lakes where the gray stork flapped heavily up from
the reeds at their approach, or plunging into dark belts of
woodland where it is always twilight, and where the falling
of the wild chestnuts and the chatter of the squirrels a

END.

hundred feet above their heads were the only sounds which
broke the silence. Onega had the endurance of the Indians
themselves, but Adele, in spite of her former journeys, was
footsore and weary before evening. It was a relief to De
Catinat, therefore, when the red glow of a great fire beat,
suddenly through the tree-trunks, and they came upon an
Indian camp in which was assembled the greater part of the
war-party which had been driven from Sainte Marie. Here,
too, were a number of the squaws who had come from the
Mohawk and Cayuga villages in order to be nearer to the
warriors. Wigwams had been erected all round in a circle,
and before each of them were the fires with kettles slung
upon a tripod of sticks in which the evening meal was being
cooked. In the centre of all was a very fierce fire which
had been made of brushwood placed in a circle, so as to
leave a clear space of twelve feet in the middle. A pole
stood up in the centre of this clearing, and something all
mottled with red and black was tied up against it. De
Catinat stepped swiftly in front of Adele that she might not
see the dreadful thing, but he was too late. She shuddered,
and drew a quick breath between her pale lips, but no sound
escaped her.

"They have begun already, then," said Onega composedly.
"Well, it will be our turn next, and we shall show them
that we know how to die."

" They have not ill-used us yet," said De Catinat. " Per-
haps they will keep us for ransom or exchange."

The Indian woman shook her head. " Do not deceive
yourself by any such hope," said she. " When they are as
gentle as they have been with you it is ever a sign that you
are reserved for the torture. Your wife will be married to
one of their chiefs, but you and I must die, for you are a
warrior, and I am too old for a squaw."

Married to an Iroquois ! Those dreadful words shot a
pang through both their hearts which no thought of death

376 THE REFUGEES.

could have done. De Catinat's head dropped forward upotj
his chest and he staggered and would have fallen had Adele
not caught him by the arm.

" Do not fear, dear Amory," she whispered. " Other
things may happen but not that, for I swear to you that
I shall not survive you. No, it may be sin or it may not,
but if death will not come to me, I will go to it."

De Catinat looked down at the gentle face which had set
now into the hard lines of an immutable resolve. He knew
that it would be as she had said, and that, come what might,
that last outrage would not befall them. Could he ever have
believed that the time would come when it would send a
thrill of joy through his heart to know that his wife would die ?

As they entered the Iroquois village the squaws and
warriors had rushed towards them, and they passed through
a double line of hideous faces which jeered and jibed and
howled at them as they passed. Their escort led them
through this rabble and conducted them to a hut which stood
apart. It was empty, save for some willow fishing nets
hanging at the side, and a heap of pumpkins stored in the
corner.

11 The chiefs will come and will decide upon what is to be
done with us," said Onega. " Here they are coming now,
and you will soon see that I am right, for I know the ways
of my own people."

An instant later an old war-chief, accompanied by two
younger braves and by the bearded half-Dutch Iroquois who
had led the attack upon the manor-house, strolled over and
stood in the doorway, looking in at the prisoners and shoot-
ing little guttural sentences at each other. The totems of
the Hawk, the Wolf, the Bear, and the Snake showed that
they each represented one of the great families of the Nation.
The Bastard was smoking a stone pipe, and yet it was he
who talked the most, arguing apparently with one of the
younger savages who seemed to come round at last to his

THE END. 377

opinion. Finally the old chief said a few short stern words,
and the matter appeared to be settled.

" And you, you beldame," said the Bastard in French to
the Iroquois woman, "you will have a lesson this night
which will teach you to side against your own people."

" You half-bred mongrel," replied the fearless old woman,
"you should take that hat from your head when you speak
to one in whose veins runs the best blood of the Onondagas.
You a warrior ? you who, with a thousand at your back,
could not make your way into a little house with a few poor
husbandmen within it ! It is no wonder that your father's
people have cast you out ! Go back and work at the beads,
or play at the game of plum stones, for some day in the
woods you might meet with a man, and so bring disgrace
upon the nation which has taken you in ! '

The evil face of the Bastard grew livid as he listened to
the scornful words which were hissed at him by the captive.
He strode across to her, and taking her hand he thrust her
forefinger into the burning bowl of his pipe. She made no
effort to remove it, but sat with a perfectly set face for a
minute or more, looking out through the open door at the
evening sunlight, and the little groups of chattering Indians.
He had watched her keenly in the hope of hearing a cry, or
seeing some spasm of agony upon her face, but at last, with
a curse, he dashed down her hand and strode from the hut.
She thrust her charred finger into her bosom and laughed.

" He is a good-for-nought ! " she cried. " He does not
even know how to torture. Now, I could have got a cry
out of him. I am sure of it. But you — monsieur, you are
very white ! '

" It was the sight of such a hellish deed. Ah, if we were
but set face to face, I with my sword, he with what weapon
he chose, by God, he should pay for it with his heart's blood."

The Indian woman seemed surprised. " It is strange to
me," she said, " that you should think of what befalls me

27

THE REFUGEES.

when you are yourselves under the same shadow- But our
fate will be as I said."

"Ah!"

" You and I are to die at the stake. She is to be given
to the dog who has left us."

"Adele! Adele ! What shall I do!" He tore his hair
in his helplessness and distraction.

" No, no, fear not, Amory, for my heart will not fail me.
What is the pang of death if it binds us together ? '

" The younger chief pleaded for you, saying that the Mitche
Manitou had stricken you with madness, as could be seen
by your swimming to their canoe, and that a blight would
fall upon the nation if you were led to the stake. But this
Bastard said that love came often like madness among the
pale faces, and that it was that alone which had driven you.
Then it was agreed that you should die and that she should
go to his wigwam, since he had led the war-party. As for
me, their hearts were bitter against me, and I also am to
die by the pine splinters."

De Catinat breathed a prayer that he might meet his fate
like a soldier and a gentleman.

" When is it to be ? ' he asked.

"Now! At once! They have gone to make all ready.
But you have time yet, for I am to go first."

"Amory, Amory, could we not die together now ? ' cried
Adele, throwing her arms round her husband. " If it be sin,
it is surely a sin which will be forgiven us. Let us go, dear.
Let us leave these dreadful people and this cruel world and
turn where we shall find peace."

The Indian woman's eyes flashed with satisfaction.

"You have spoken well, White Lily/' said she. "Why
should you wait until it is their pleasure to pluck you. See,
already the glare of their fire beats upon the tree-trunks,
and you can hear the bowlings of those who thirst for your
blood. If you die by your own hands, they will be robbed

THE END. 379

of their spectacle, and their chief will have lost his bride.
So you will be the victors in the end, and they the van-
quished. You have said rightly, White Lily There lies
the only path for you ! '

" But how to take it ? '

Onega glanced keenly at the two warriors who stood as
sentinels at the door of the hut. They had turned away,
absorbed in the horrible preparations which were going on.
Then she rummaged deeply within the folds of her loose
gown and pulled out a small pistol with two brass barrels
and double triggers in the form of winged dragons. It
was only a toy to look at, all carved and scrolled and graven
with the choicest work of the Paris gunsmith. For its beauty
the seigneur had bought it at his last visit to Quebec, and yet
it might be useful, too, and it was loaded in both barrels.

" I meant to use it on myself," said she, as she slipped it
into the hand of De Catinat. " But now I am minded to
show them that I can die as an Onondaga should die, and
that I am worthy to have the blood of their chiefs in my
veins. Take it, for I swear that I will not use it myself,
unless it be to fire both bullets into that Bastard's heart."

A flush of joy shot over De Catinat as his fingers closed
round the pistol. Here was indeed a key to unlock the
gates of peace. Adele laid her cheek against his shoulder
and laughed with pleasure.

" You will forgive me, dear," he whispered.

" Forgive you ! I bless you, and love you with my whole
heart and soul. Clasp me close, darling, and say one prayer
before you do it."

They had sunk on their knees together when three
warriors entered the hut and said a few abrupt words to
their country-woman. She rose with a smile.

"They are waiting for me," said she. "You shall see,
White Lily, and you also, monsieur, how well I know what
is due to my position. Farewell, and remember Onega ! '

380 THE REFUGEES.

She smiled again, and walked from the hut amidst the warriors
with the quick firm step of a queen who sweeps to a throne.

" Now, Amory ! " whispered Adele, closing her eyes, and
nestling still closer to him.

He raised the pistol, and then, with a quick sudden intak-
ing of the breath, he dropped it and knelt with glaring eyes
looking up at a tree which faced the open door of the hut.

It was a beech tree, exceedingly old and gnarled, with its
bark hanging down in strips and its whole trunk spotted
with moss and mould. Some ten feet above the ground the
main trunk divided into two, and in the fork thus formed a
hand had suddenly appeared, a large reddish hand, which
shook frantically from side to side in passionate dissuasion,
The next instant, as the two captives still stared in amaze-
ment, the hand disappeared behind the trunk again and a
face appeared in its place, which still shook from side to side
as resolutely as its forerunner. It was impossible to mistake
that mahogany, wrinkled skin, the huge bristling eyebrows,
or the little glistening eyes. It was Captain Ephraim
Savage of Boston !

And even as they stared and wondered a sudden shrill
whistle burst out from the depths of the forest, and in a
moment every bush and thicket and patch of brushwood were
spouting fire and smoke, while the snarl of the musketry
ran round the whole glade, and the storm of bullets whizzed
and pelted among the yelling savages. The Iroquois' sen-
tinels had been drawn in by their blood-thirsty craving to
see the prisoners die, and now the Canadians were upon
them, and they were hemmed in by a ring of fire. First
one way and then another they rushed, to be met always by
the same blast of death, until finding at last some gap in the
attack they streamed through, like sheep through a broken
fence, and rushed madly away through the forest with the
bullets of their pursuers still singing about their ears, until the
whistle sounded again to recall the woodsmen from the chase.

Q
W

in

THE END. 381

But there was one savage who had found work to do
before he fled. The Flemish Bastard had preferred his
vengeance to his safety ! Rushing at Onega he buried his
tomahawk in her brain, and then, yelling his war-cry, he
waved the blood-stained weapon above his head, and flew
into the hut where the prisoners still knelt. De Catinat
saw him coming, and a mad joy glistened in his eyes. He
rose to meet him, and as he rushed in he fired both barrels
of his pistol into the Bastard's face. An instant later a
swarm of Canadians had rushed over the writhing bodies,
the captives felt warm friendly hands which grasped their
own, and looking upon the smiling well-known faces of
Amos Green, Savage, and Du Lhut, they knew that peace
had come to them at last.

And so the refugees came to the end of the toils of their
journey, for that winter was spent by them in peace at Fort
St. Louis, and in the spring, the Iroquois having carried the
war to the Upper St. Lawrence, the travellers were able to
descend into the English Provinces, and so to make their way
down the Hudson to New York, where a warm welcome
awaited them from the family of Amos Green. The friend-
ship between the two men was now so cemented together
by common memories and common danger that they soon
became partners in fur-trading, and the name of the French-
man came at last to be as familiar in the mountains of
Maine and on the slopes of the Alleghanies as it had once
been in the salons and corridors of Versailles. In time De
Catinat built a house on Staten Island, where many of his
fellow-refugees had settled, and much of what he won from
his fur-trading was spent in the endeavour to help his strug-
gling Huguenot brothers. Amos Green had married a
Dutch maiden of Schenectady, and as Adele and she became
inseparable friends, the marriage served to draw closer the
ties of love which held the two families together.

As to Captain Ephraim Savage, he returned safely to his

382 NOTES.

beloved Boston, where he fulfilled his ambition by building
himself a fair brick house upon the rising ground in the
northern part of the city, whence he could look down both
upon the shipping in the river and the bay. There he lived,
much respected by his townsfolk, who made him selectman
and alderman, and gave him the command of a goodly ship
when Sir William Phips made his attack upon Quebec, and
found that the old Lion Frontenac was not to be driven
from his lair. So, honoured by all, the old seaman lived to
an age which carried him deep into the next century, when
he could already see with his dim eyes something of the
growing greatness of his country.

The manor-house of Sainte Marie was soon restored to its
former prosperity, but its seigneur was from the day that he
lost his wife and son a changed man. He grew leaner,
fiercer, less human, forever heading parties which made
their way into the Iroquois woods and which outrivalled
the savages themselves in the terrible nature of their
deeds. A day came at last when he sallied out upon one
of these expeditions, from which neither he nor any of
his men ever returned. Many a terrible secret is hid by
those silent woods, and the fate of Charles de la Noue3
Seigneur de Sainte Marie, is among them.

NOTE ON THE HUGUENOTS AND THEIR DISPERSION.

Towards the latter quarter of the seventeenth century there
was hardly an important industry in France which was not con-
trolled by the Huguenots, so that, numerous as they were, their
importance was out of all proportion to their numbers. The
cloth trade of the north and the south-east, the manufacture of
serges and light stuffs in Languedoc, the linen trade of Normandy
and Brittany, the silk and velvet industry of Tours and Lyons,
the glass of Normandy, the paper of Auvergne and Angoumois,
the jewellery of the Isle of France, the tan yards of Touraine,
the iron and tin work of the Sedanais — all these were largely
owned and managed by Huguenots. The numerous Saint days

NOTES. 383

of the Catholic Calendar handicapped their rivals, and it was
computed that the Protestant worked 310 days in the year to his
fellow-countryman's 260.

A very large number of the Huguenot refugees were brought
back, and the jails and galleys of France were crowded with
them. One hundred thousand settled in Friesland and Holland,
25,000 in Switzerland, 75,000 in Germany, and 50,000 in England.
Some made their way even to the distant Cape of Good Hope,
where they remained in the Paarl district.

In war, as in industry, the exiles were a source of strength to the
countries which received them. Frenchmen drilled the Russian
armies of Peter the Great, a Huguenot count became commander-
in-chief in Denmark, and Schomberg led the army of Branden-
burg, and afterwards that of England.

In England three Huguenot regiments were formed for the
service of William. The exiles established themselves as silk
workers in Spitalfields, cotton spinners at Bideford, tapestry
weavers at Exeter, wool carders at Taunton, kersey makers at
Norwich, weavers at Canterbury, hat makers at Wandsworth,
sailcloth makers at Ipswich, workers in calico in Bromley, glass
in Sussex, paper at Laverstock, cambric at Edinburgh.

Early Protestant refugees had taken refuge in America twenty
years before the revocation, where they formed a colony at Staten
Island. A body came to Boston in 1684, and were given 11,000
acres at Oxford, by order of the General Court at Massachusetts.
In New York and Long Island colonies sprang up, and later in
Virginia (the Monacan Settlement), in Maryland, and in South
Carolina (French Santee and Orange Quarter).

NOTE ON THE FUTURE OF Louis, MADAME DE MAINTENON,
AND MADAME DE MONTESPAN.

It has been left to our own century to clear the fair fame of
Madame de Maintenon of all reproach, and to show her as what
she was, a pure woman and a devoted wife. She has received little
justice from the memoir writers of the seventeenth century, most
of whom, the Due de St. Simon, for example, and the Princess
Elizabeth of Bavaria, had their own private reasons for disliking
her, An admirable epitome of her character and influence will
be found in Dr. Dollinger's Historical Studies. She made Louis
an excellent wife, waited upon him assiduously for thirty years
of married life, influenced him constantly towards good — save

NOTES.

only in the one instance of the Huguenots, and finally died very
shortly after her husband.

Madame de Montespan lived in great magnificence after the
triumph of her rival, and spent freely the vast sums which the
king's generosity had furnished her with. Eventually, having
exhausted all that this world could offer, she took to hair-shirts
and nail-studded girdles, in the hope of securing a good position
in the next. Her horror of death was excessive. In thunder-
storms she sat with a little child in her lap in the hope that its
innocence might shield her from the lightning. She slept always
with her room ablaze with tapers, and with several women watch-
ing by the side of her couch. When at last the inevitable arrived
she left her body for the family tomb, her heart to the convent of
La Fleche, and her entrails to the priory of Menoux near Bour-
bon. These latter were thrust into a box and given to a peasant to
convey to the priory. Curiosity induced him to look into the box
upon the way, and, seeing the contents, he supposed himself to be
the victim of a practical joke, and emptied them out into a ditch.
A swineherd was passing at the moment with his pigs, and so it
happened that, in the words of Mrs. Julia Pardoe, "in a few minutes
the most filthy animals in creation had devoured portions of the
remains of one of the haughtiest women who ever trod the earth."

Louis, after a reign of more than fifty years, which comprised
the most brilliant epoch of French history, died at last in 1715
amidst the saddest surroundings.

One by one those whom he loved had preceded him to the
grave, his brother, his son, the two sons of his son, their wives,
and finally his favourite great-grandson, until he, the old dying
monarch, with his rouge and his stays, was left with only a little
infant in arms, the Due D'Anjou, three generations away from
him, to perpetuate his line. On 2oth August, 1715, he was
attacked by senile gangrene, which gradually spread up the leg
until on the 3oth it became fatal. His dying words were worthy
of his better self. " Gentlemen, I desire your pardon for the bad
example which I have set you. I have greatly to thank you for
the manner in which you have served me, as well as for the
attachment and fidelity which I have always experienced at your
hands. I request from you the same zeal and fidelity for my
grandson. Farewell, gentlemen, I feel that this parting has
affected not only myself but you also. Forgive me ! I trust that
you will sometimes think of me when I am gone."

CENTRAL CIRCULATION

; ROOM

JUL 1 3 1937

I

(it