A lump rose in Maud's throat, and a spasm crossed her features as she
closed the door. Then she stopped to put a tray in order, making a noise
in getting it even. It took her more than a minute to arrange it
properly, but when she entered the parlor again her face was as though
nothing had happened.
For a moment Beaumont looked at her keenly, but her features told no
tale. The human heart is inscrutable, and a true woman never tells
everything, even to her dearest. So, hidden in Maud's bosom was a little
story of man's devotion, which ever after remained unspoken, and
unforgotten, too.
Beaumont bowed over her hand and led her to a seat again.
"For months and months I have longed for this hour," he said. "Even
after I started, three weeks of a journey seemed almost like years; but
now that I see you, I know that I have not come in vain."
"Please don't talk in that way," said Maud, with a half-frightened look
in her face. "Speak of anything, but not of that to-night."
"Mon Dieu! Surely I am not wrong?"
"Oh, something else, just for to-night," she pleaded. "You came so
unexpectedly, without a moment's warning," and then she added archly,
"You expect too much, sir, you must remember that I am the same Maud
Maxwell that I was a year ago."
"Mon ami, forgive me!" he exclaimed, penitently. "I will do whatever you
say."
And they talked of many things, but chiefly of Penetang, of the journey
to York by trail, then by schooner to the St. Lawrence, down the rapids
in a rowboat, guided by Indians, to Montreal; schooner again to Quebec,
and then on the _North King_ with Sir George.
"The dear old Colonel! I quite learned to love him through Mrs.
Manning's letters," said Maud.
"He's a brave commander, as well as gallant gentleman," returned the
Doctor, "and we missed him terribly after he left. Still, our Fort was
established, and taking fifty men away from the new quarters gave the
rest more room."
"The winter would be the hardest upon you," said Maud.
"On the whole, we did well though. The frost was keen but we learned how
to meet it, and another winter we'll be better prepared."
"How did you secure supplies?" she asked. "You are so far away from the
east."
"They were brought chiefly by trail from Little York, except fish and
game, which our own men always secured."
"It must be the hunter's paradise," said Maud, enthusiastically.
"The whole northern country is like a preserve," replied Beaumont,
keenly watching her animated face. "When you come to Penetang you, too,
must learn to follow the chase."
"Oh, what became of Corporal Bond?" she suddenly asked. "Did he ever
return?"
"Yes, he came back at last. Latimer's craft was captured by an American
gunboat when entering the St. Clair River, and everything was
overhauled. Corporal Bond was retained a prisoner until the war was
over, while Latimer, who declared himself to be an American, was allowed
with his wife to go free and keep the boat."
"Under what plea did they retain the Corporal?" Maud asked.
"On the ground that they knew he was an English soldier, notwithstanding
his plain clothes. Still, they treated him well, and after the treaty
was declared, gave him a pass to Little York."
"There would be great rejoicing when his wife met him again."
"Yes; and there was throughout the garrison, for Bond is a genuine
soldier."
"One other thing I want to ask. It is about the pretty little Indian
maiden you wrote of so charmingly."
"Oh, Little Moon is now a soldier's wife--growing contented and
civilized in a little cottage which the two have to themselves."
"How romantic!"
They chatted for a while longer. Then they parted--but her last words
were like her first:
"Not to-night--not to-night--you must wait until to-morrow."
* * * * *
Three days later the white wings of the _North King_ unfurled as they
swept out to sea. Good old Sir George had come and gone. On the bridge
beside him stood the Major, whose brave face, kindly eyes and compressed
lips told of nothing but the brave and gallant officer. Silently they
watched the receding shore.
"Another chapter of life closed," said Sir George at last; "though full
of story, it will never be opened to me again."
"Yours was a chapter worth living," said Morris. "You have founded a
fort and established a colony, which will go on growing, and may last
forever."
The Colonel shook his head.
"Simply my duty," was his answer. "And what will become of the place in
the end, God only knows. So far as military fame is concerned, you beat
my record. That fight at Lundy's Lane was the turning point in the war,
and your valor there is too well known to be forgotten."
"Pshaw, Colonel! I was only one of the many. Every man did his duty, and
with all that, the bloody horror of it takes away the glory."
"We'll turn the leaf down, anyway," said the Colonel, wheeling around
and looking out to sea. "Now, blow ye winds for Old England, where wife
and children await with eagerness the old man's return."
"Oh, yes," assented Morris, "and I don't think my dear old mother has
forgotten her soldier boy."
By night the shore was out of sight, for the wind was from the west and
they were far out at sea.
* * * * *
The good town of Halifax was not by any means dull during those closing
days of May, in the year of our Lord one thousand, eight hundred and
fifteen, for the double wedding was in everybody's mouth. Judge
Maxwell's daughters were both to be married on the same day.
The bell of the little English church rang merrily out on that bridal
morning, and for hours before the ceremony fair maids were decorating
with spring flowers and evergreens the aisles and chancel; for never
before had the marriage of two sisters been celebrated within its walls
at the one time.
Major Morris, though now far out at sea, had not forgotten the brides,
for that very morning was delivered to each a little package bearing his
name. Eugenia's gift was a resplendent ornament of sapphire and gold,
which enriched the beauty of her golden hair. But Maud's, though less
brilliant in its setting, was more unique. She was alone when she
unpacked the parcel and read the enclosed note. It ran thus:
"Miss Maud. I do not expect to see you again; but as I leave, there is
something you can do for me. I desire you to accept with my sincerest
wishes this little necklace as a token of my love. It was made of jewels
of India in the days of Clive. It bears a noble and honorable history,
and I know by your acceptance, its record will go on untarnished. God
bless you! Farewell."
Without looking at the costly trinket, Maud with glistening eyes read
and re-read the words. Then she kissed them passionately over and over
again. Another moment was spent in thought--but only a moment, for time
was precious--then with decisive hand she tore the little letter into a
thousand fragments and dropped them into the open grate.
Beneath the letter was a card containing the congratulations of the
donor. Then she picked up the dainty little gift. It was a beautiful
circlet of jewels and golden beads, with carved clasps of wonderful
formation. In the centre was a large translucent opal, and as Maud
looked into its silent depths, she fancied she could read its hidden
history through the long generations of the past.
For a few minutes before leaving for church Beaumont was with her.
"See," she said, as she handed him the card and necklet, "I have
something else to show you. It is a pretty little thing that came this
morning. May I wear it?"
"Certainly, my darling. How unique it is! Mon Dieu! Where could it come
from? Possibly from the banks of the Nile. Mayhap from India. How very
handsome it is! Morris was always a good fellow. Pity he couldn't have
stayed for our wedding."
"Pity, indeed," said Maud, contemplatively, as the bridegroom fastened
the jewels about her neck.
* * * * *
Six weeks later there was rejoicing at Penetang. The Doctor had
overstepped his time, but as he brought his winsome bride with him, the
_locum tenens_, as well as the garrison, were willing to forgive. They
had come out with tourists from York, and Maud, for the first time in
her life, had the satisfaction of camping for a couple of summer nights
in the woods.
The experience of this western trip was full of joy for her, and with
the eagerness which was part of her nature, she looked for new pleasure
in each day's journey. Beaumont had told her the wolf story in which
Helen and Harold were the heroes of the hour, and during the second
night from York, while the wolves were howling in the distance, she lay
awake for awhile actually longing for a similar experience.
Of all the denizens of that little northern garrison none yearned for
Maud's arrival as did Helen Manning, and when the two women met they
stood for minutes in a long and close embrace, while tears ran down
their faces.
"This is foolishness," said Helen.
"Is it?" said Maud.
"But how good of you to come."
"Of Henri to bring me."
"Yes, you both deserve credit," said Helen, laughing--laughter and tears
are very near akin--"but how could he help it, when Harold set him so
good an example?"
"I once told you I would go to the ends of the world with a man if I
loved him--just like yourself."
"So that is your reason. A very good one, too."
"Yes, I came first for my husband, second for you, dear, and third," her
eyes flashed as she looked around, "well, for the people of Penetang."
Then they all clapped hands and laughed, settling her place forever in
the hearts of the little community.
The afternoon's sun was nearing the horizon, and the little bay lay
before them surrounded by trees of wondrous tints--a thing of beauty.
"Oh, how delightful!" exclaimed Maud; "and this is to be my home--a
veritable fairyland."
"We will make it one for you if we can," returned Helen, with a bright
smile.
Maud's eyes wandered quickly over the quaint buildings which already
stood here and there upon upland and shore, until finally they rested
upon the island.
"And what is that little white house standing among the trees?" she
asked.
"That is our magazine," said Harold, who stood hand in hand with his
wife. "The little citadel that guards our bay."
"And that scaffolding down at the water's edge. It looks as if they were
putting up the masts of a ship."
"So we are," said Captain Payne. "The war is over, and we may never have
to fight again, but in memory of a great chief and brave warrior, we are
building the _Tecumseh_."
"And you see that pretty cottage," said Beaumont, gently taking his
wife's arm and pointing towards it. "That is our own little home. La
bonne madame has made it ready for us. Won't you come to it, darling;
you need a rest."
"Yes, Henri, I shall be glad to; I am very happy, but very tired."
=Transcriber's Notes:=
original hyphenation, spelling and grammar have been preserved as in
the original
Page 4, "heart. I shall do" changed to "heart. "I shall do"
Page 12, "it would would be" changed to "it would be"
Page 48, 'watching the Delaware,"' changed to 'watching the Delaware,'
Page 73, "conscientiously ad vise" changed to "conscientiously advise"
Page 86, 'prayer; but shall' changed to 'prayer; "but shall'
Page 89, "with a smile," changed to "with a smile."
Page 97, "miles, I think," changed to "miles, I think."
Page 112, "tremenduous fire" changed to "tremendous fire"
Page 112, "call the dhrivers" changed to "call the drivers"
Page 118, "up by daylight," changed to "up by daylight."
Page 126, "''Ardman never look" changed to "'Ardman never look"
Page 155, "known-how determined I was she-would" changed to
"known how determined I was she would"
Page 160, "a oboggan slide" changed to "a toboggan slide"
Page 163, differ from you," changed to differ from you,'
Page 169. "s'ill vous plait" changed to "s'il vous plait"
Page 172, "hold four people," changed to "hold four people."
Page 188, from'beats me.' changed to from beats me."
Page 190, 'to the coast?' changed to 'to the coast?"'
Page 192, "past was aroused" changed to "past was aroused."
Page 203, "an' sturgeon an'" changed to "an' sturgeon, an'"
Page 219, 'You are about changed to "You are about
Page 244, "noble character?" changed to "noble character."
Page 246, 'she went on,"' changed to 'she went on,'
Page 250, "a little messsage" changed to "a little message"
Page 265, "end I I am" changed to "end I am"
Page 266, '"Smith, who was' changed to 'Smith, who was'
Page 268, 'a perfect canoeist.' changed to 'a perfect canoeist."'
Page 268, "Hunting Song' changed to 'Hunting Song'
Page 269, "her match, sir;" changed to "her match, sir."
Page 279, "Its is only" changed to "It is only"
Page 281, "within its cover." changed to "within its cover,"
Page 294, 'pulling his forelock."' changed to 'pulling his forelock.'
Page 295, '"Bateese, while expressing' changed to 'Bateese, while
expressing'
Page 297, "The femnine" changed to "The feminine"
Page 300, 'the woman also."' changed to 'the woman also.'"'
Page 303, "Fatherhood of of God" changed to "Fatherhood of God"
Page 307, "while the buildng" changed to "while the building"
Page 320, "although the talked" changed to "although they talked"
Page 324, "Adienx were said" changed to "Adieux were said"
Page 338, "trifle of needlewok" changed to "trifle of needlework"
Page 339, "agree. "'She's a" changed to "agree. 'She's a"
End of Project Gutenberg's In the Van; or, The Builders, by John Price-Brown