GUESTS OF THE ENEMY
Captain Louis de Galisonnière proved to be a genial host, pleased with
his guests, pleased with himself, and pleased with the situation. Brave
and alert, he had also a certain amount of vanity which Robert had
tickled. It was not for nothing that he was a nephew of Count de
Galisonnière, once Governor General of Canada, rank and birth counting
for so much then with the French nation, and it was not for nothing,
either, that he had won his captaincy by valiant and diligent service of
his own. So it afforded him great satisfaction to be hospitable now, and
also to patronize slightly these men from the south, with whom in all
probability New France would be at war before another year had passed.
It was well also to impress the Onondaga, whom his vigilant mind
recognized at once as a youth of station. None knew better than de
Galisonnière the power and importance of the Iroquois, and how they
might tip the scale in a great war between the French and British
colonies.
His boat, which he proudly called the _Frontenac_, after the early and
great Governor General of Canada, was equipped with supplies needed on
trips between ports on the St. Lawrence. After providing stools for his
guests, he offered them the light wine of France, even as de Courcelles
had done, but Robert and Tayoga declined, although Willet accepted a
glass.
"We appreciate your courtesy," said Robert, "but we descendants of the
English in America do not take much to wine. I find that my head is much
better without it."
"The intoxicating drinks of the white men are not good for the red
race," said Tayoga gravely. "The warriors of the Hodenosaunee are able
to fight anything else, but strong liquors take away their brains and
make them like little children who fly into passions over trifles."
De Galisonnière looked with great interest at the young Onondaga, being
impressed by the dignity of his manner and the soberness of his speech.
"You speak perfect English," he observed.
"I learned it in a white man's school at Albany," said Tayoga. "Lennox
was my comrade there, just as he has been in the woods."
"You will see a much greater town than Albany when you arrive at Quebec.
You will see a noble city, on a noble site, an impregnable fortress,
guarded by the most valiant troops in the world. For its like you would
have to cross the sea to our old land of France."
"I have heard much of Stadacona, which you call Quebec," said Tayoga,
without any alteration of tone. "Our old men speak often of it, when it
belonged to our brethren, the Ganeagaono, known to you as the Mohawks,
who never sold or ceded it to anybody."
De Galisonnière's face fell a little, but he recovered himself quickly.
"That was generations ago," he said, "and time makes many shifts and
changes. There is a flux and efflux of all people, including the white,
like the ceaseless movement of sand upon a beach."
The Onondaga was silent, but Robert saw that he did not unbend, and de
Galisonnière, feeling that it was unwise to pursue the topic, turned his
attention to the mighty river and its lofty wooded banks.
"I don't believe there's another river in the world the equal of this
giant French stream of ours," he said.
"Our noble British river, the Hudson, has much to say for itself," said
Robert.
"A grand river, in truth. I have seen it, but large and splendid as it
is it lacks the length and size of the St. Lawrence."
"It is beyond question a noble stream to travel on. One makes greater
speed here and suffers less hardship than in the forest."
"I am glad that I can take you to Montreal."
"Your hospitality to us, Captain de Galisonnière, is appreciated. I have
found French officers courteous and ready to share with us all they had.
You are not the first whom we have met on this journey. We encountered
far down in our province of New York the Chevalier Raymond de St. Luc."
"St. Luc! St. Luc! The very flower of French chivalry! He is a relative
of the famous La Corne de St. Luc, of whom you have doubtless heard, and
at Quebec he is considered a model of all the qualities that make a
soldier and a gentleman."
"He made a like impression upon me. Farther north we were so fortunate
as to meet more of your countrymen, Colonel de Courcelles and Captain de
Jumonville."
"I know them both! Brave officers!" said de Galisonnière.
But he turned away the conversation from the Frenchmen who had gone down
into territory that Robert considered a portion of the Province of New
York, and the lad surmised that, knowing a good deal about the nature of
their errands, he feared lest he might reveal something through chance
allusions. Instead, he talked of the St. Lawrence, Montreal, and the
glories of Quebec to which he hoped he might return soon. He addressed
most of his talk to Robert, but he spoke at times to Willet and Tayoga,
both of whom responded briefly. The wind meanwhile remained strong, and
it was not necessary to use the oars, the large sail carrying them
swiftly toward Montreal. Robert, while talking with de Galisonnière,
watched eagerly the two shores, seeing the smoke rise from the stout log
houses of the Canadians, and once the tall steeple of a church
dominating a little village, and seeming out of all proportion to the
congregation that surrounded it.
"Yes, the church is very powerful with us," said de Galisonnière,
following his eyes and noting his expression. "It suits our people,
particularly our good Canadian French. Our priests are patriotic, brave,
self-sacrificing, and are a power in our dealings with the Indians."
"I know it," said Robert.
At night they reached Montreal, then much inferior in size and
importance to Quebec, the canoe was lifted from the _Frontenac_, and
after many exchanges of courtesies, the three went to an inn.
"If chance offers," said Robert, "we shall be glad to help you as you
have helped us."
"One never knows," said de Galisonnière. "You and I need not conceal
from each other that there is much talk of war between England and
France, which, of course, would mean war also between the English and
French colonies. If it comes, and come it will, I think, I trust that no
ill luck will befall you upon the battlefield."
"And I wish you as well," said Robert, sincerely.
The canoe was left in trustworthy hands, it being their purpose to sell
it on the morrow and buy a larger boat, and they walked through the
streets of this town of Hochelaga toward their inn. There were other
Indians on the street--French Indians they were called to distinguish
them from those who formed a British alliance--but none could be
compared with Tayoga, arrayed in the full splendor of a coming chief of
the clan of the Bear, of the nation Onondaga, of the League of the
Hodenosaunee. Never had he borne himself more haughtily, never had his
height appeared greater or his presence grander. Robert, looking at him,
felt that if St. Luc was the very flower of French chivalry, this young
comrade of his was to an even greater degree the very spirit and
essence of all that was best in the great League of the Hodenosaunee.
The Indians--Hurons, Abenakis, St. Regis, Ottawas, and warriors from
farther west--watched Tayoga with fascinated eyes. They knew perfectly
well who the tall youth was, that he belonged to the great Iroquois
league, and they knew, too, in their secret hearts that he had the
superiority which Onondaga, Mohawk and their allied nations claimed.
Hence, while their looks sometimes expressed an unwilling admiration,
they were also charged always with hostility and hate. But Tayoga
apparently took no notice. Once more he was the Greek to whom all outer
peoples were barbarians.
"I don't think the French can make much progress with him," whispered
Willet to Robert. "As the Indian has no written language, his memory is
long. When we reach Quebec he'll never forget for an instant that it was
once Stadacona, a village of the Mohawks, the Keepers of the Eastern
Gate, and one of the great nations of the Hodenosaunee."
"No, he will not," said Robert, "and look who is waiting to meet us!"
Standing before a low house, which was crowded with the goods of a fur
trader, were a half-dozen Indians, wild and savage in looks to the last
degree, and in the center was one whose shoulder was bound tightly with
a great roll of deerskin. In stature he rose far above the other
warriors, and he had a thickness in proportion. The hate that the rest
had shown when they looked upon Tayoga was nothing to his, which was
the very concentrated essence of all malice.
"Our good friend, Tandakora, despite his wound seems to have arrived
ahead of us," said Willet to Robert.
"Yes, and he shows very clearly that he would like to give Tayoga to the
torture with himself as torturer, and yet he must know that it was you
who put the bullet through his shoulder."
"Quite true, Robert, but he resents the Onondaga more than he does us.
We are strangers, aliens to him, and he makes no comparisons with us,
but Tayoga is an Indian like himself, whom he has fought against, and
against whom he has failed. Watch us pass. For Tayoga, Tandakora will
not exist, and it will instill more poison into the heart of the
Ojibway."
Willet was a good prophet. The Onondaga walked within five feet of the
Ojibway, but he did not show by the slightest sign that he was aware of
the existence of Tandakora. The entire little drama, played by the
children of the forest, was perfectly clear. Tandakora was dirt under
the feet of Tayoga, and Tandakora felt that it was so. His heart burned
within him and a twinge through his shoulder added to his anger. Yet he
was powerless there in Montreal with the French troops about, and he
could merely glare impotently while the three walked by ignoring his
existence. But they did not forget him, and each in his heart resolved
to be on watch against treacherous attack.
They found on the slope of a high hill the inn to which de Galisonnière
had recommended them, and obtained quarters for the night. Monsieur
Jolivet, the proprietor, had lodged Indians before, great chiefs
treating with the French Government, and he did not think it strange
that Tayoga should come there. In truth, Monsieur Jolivet was a thrifty
man who despised no patronage for which the pay was assured, and since
peace still existed between France and Great Britain he was quite
willing to entertain any number of Bostonnais at his most excellent inn
on the slope of a high hill overlooking the St. Lawrence. Willet had
shown him the color of gold, and from natural ability and long
experience as an innkeeper being a shrewd reader of faces he was sure
that his three unusual guests could be trusted.
Willet knew Canada better than Robert, and now he acted as spokesman.
"We will sleep here only one night," he said, "because early tomorrow
morning we take boat for Quebec. We three will occupy one large room.
You have such a room with three beds, have you not?"
"I have the room," responded Monsieur Jolivet promptly, "and the beds
can be put in it at once. Then all will be arranged quickly by Lizette
and Marie, the maids. Will you permit my man, François, to carry your
weapons to the chamber now?"
"I think not," replied Willet, giving his rifle an affectionate look.
"I've lived so long with this good old rifle of mine that we hate to be
parted even for an hour. Tayoga and Mr. Lennox are younger than I am,
but they're beginning to feel the same way about their arms. If you
don't mind, Monsieur Jolivet, we'll keep our weapons with us."
"Ah, I see, sir, that you're a man of sentiment," said Monsieur Jolivet,
laughing and rubbing his hands. "It is well that one can feel it in this
rough world of ours. But will Monsieur see a young officer who has come
from the commandant? Merely a little inquiry about your identity and an
examination of your papers, if you have any. It's according to our
custom, and it's just a formality, nothing more."
Robert knew that it was far from being a formality, but his comrades and
he had nothing to fear, as their mission was duly accredited and they
carried the letters to the Marquis Duquesne. The young officer, a
Frenchman of Canadian birth, entered presently, and with the courtesy
characteristic of the French race, a trait that Robert liked, asked for
an account of themselves, which was given readily. As usual the effect
of the letters addressed to the Marquis Duquesne was magical, and, as
the officer withdrew, he tendered them all the help he could give for a
speedy and pleasant voyage to Quebec.
Monsieur Jolivet gave them a supper in his best style. Although a native
of New France he was of Provençal blood, and he had a poetic strain. He
offered to his guests not an excellent inn alone, but a magnificent view
also, of which he made full use. The evening being warm with a soft and
soothing wind, Marie and Lizette set the table in a little garden, in
which early flowers were blooming already, offering delicate colors of
pink and rose and pale blue. The table was spread with a white cloth,
and silver and china were not lacking. The eyes of Robert, who had a
fastidious taste, glistened.
"Monsieur Jolivet may be our enemy or not," he said, "but I like him. It
is not often that one can dine at such an inn, with such a view of
mountain, forest and magnificent river. In truth, the French do some
things well."
"They surpass us in the matter of inns," said Willet. "They think more
about it--and take more trouble. I'm sorry we have to quarrel with the
French. They're good people, though they haven't been oversqueamish in
the use of savages against us, and they're really responsible for the
cruelties done by the painted demons."
He spoke freely of red "savages" before Tayoga, knowing that the young
Onondaga would never think of applying the word to himself. Willet had
shown too often that he considered the people of the Hodenosaunee the
equals of anybody. Then he took their three rifles, laid them together
on the grass by the side of a graveled walk and, looking at the vast
expanse of mountain, forest and river, drew a deep breath.
"It's not much like fighting for our lives back there in the gorge, is
it, Robert?" he asked. "It's a strange world here in America. We're
lying in a rocky hollow one day, shooting at people who are shooting at
us, and both sides shooting to kill, and two or three days later we're
sitting at an inn in a town, eating off silver and china."
"It's a quick and pleasant transformation," said Robert,
appreciatively.
He would have called it supper, but in Montreal it was dinner, and it
was served by Lizette and Marie. There was fish from the St. Lawrence,
chicken, beef, many vegetables, good white bread and coffee, all
prepared in the excellent manner characteristic of Monsieur Jolivet's
famous inn. Tayoga ate abundantly but delicately. He had learned the use
of knife and fork at the school in Albany, and, like Robert, he was
fastidious at the table.
Monsieur Jolivet, after his manner, gave them much of his own presence.
One must be polite to the Bostonnais at such a time. He discoursed quite
freely of Montreal, and of its advantages as a great trading post with
the Indians, who already brought there vast quantities of furs. It would
become one of the greatest and most brilliant jewels in the French
crown, second perhaps only to Paris. But for the present, the chief
glory of New France could be seen only at Quebec Ah, when the Bostonnais
arrived there they would behold great lords and great ladies!
The three listened, each interested in his own way. Robert's fancy saw
the silken splendor of a vice-regal court, and, anxious to know the
larger world, he was more glad than ever that he had come upon this
errand, dangerous though it had proved to be.
They sat a while after the dinner was over, looking down at the town and
the great view beyond, a clear moon and brilliant stars casting a silver
light which illuminated almost like the day. They saw lights gleaming
in houses, and now and then shadowy figures passing. Out in the river a
boat with a mast rocked in the current, and Robert believed it was the
_Frontenac_ of Louis de Galisonnière.
As the dusk thickened over the great river, the island, the hills and
the forest, Hochelaga seemed very small, and the inn of the excellent
Monsieur Jolivet was just a tiny point of light in all that vast
darkness. It shone, nevertheless, by contrast, and was a little island
of warmth and comfort in the sea of the wilderness. Monsieur Jolivet,
who was deeply interested in the Bostonnais and the proud young
Iroquois, talked freely. Under his light and chattering manner lay great
powers of perception, and he saw that he had guests of quality, each in
his own way. The hunter even was not an ordinary hunter, but, as
Monsieur Jolivet judged, a man of uncommon intellectual power, and also
of education. He would discover as much about them as he could, for his
own personal gratification, because he might give valuable information
to the commandant at Montreal, who was his friend, and because later on
he might speak a useful word or two in the ear of Louis de Galisonnière,
whom he knew well and whose good opinion he valued.
Robert, who was in a cheerful mood and who wished to exercise his gift
of golden speech, met him half way, and enlarged upon the splendor and
power of Britain, the great kingdom that bestrode the Atlantic, seated
immovable in Europe, and yet spreading through her colonies in America,
increasing and growing mightier all the time. It was soon a test of
eloquence between him and Monsieur Jolivet, in which each was seeking
to obtain from the other an expression of the opinion that swayed his
country. The Onondaga was silent, and the hunter spoke only a word or
two, but each listened intently to the dialogue, which, however earnest
it might be, never went beyond the bounds of good humor.
"I cannot make you see the truth," said Monsieur Jolivet, at last,
smiling and spreading his hands. "I cannot convince you that France is
the first of nations, the nation of light and learning and humanity, and
yet it is so. And seated here upon the St. Lawrence we shall build up
another France, the New France of America, which will shed light upon
you English or Bostonnais down below, and teach you the grace and beauty
of civilization."
"We should be willing to learn from any who can teach us," said Robert,
"and such a willingness I claim is a chief merit of us English who are
born in America, or Bostonnais, as you would call us."
Monsieur Jolivet once more spread out his hands in deprecation.
"We argue in vain," he said. "But now Lizette comes with the coffee,
which is one of the most glorious triumphs of my inn. Does the young
chief drink coffee?"
"Yes," replied Robert, "he learned at Albany all the white man's
habits."
After the coffee they rose from the table and mine host prepared to show
them to their room. The darkness had thickened meanwhile and glimpses of
the river and the hills were faint. The little garden was enclosed by
three walls of darkness, being lighted on the side where it joined the
inn. Yet Robert thought he saw a shifting figure blacker than the
shadows in which it moved.
Marie and Lizette took away the silver and china and Monsieur Jolivet
went ahead to show them to their room. Then something whistled in the
darkness, and an arrow buried to the head of the barb stood out in the
rear wall of the inn. The three seized their rifles, but the darker
shadow in the shadows was gone. Tayoga broke off the arrow level with
the wall, and threw the shaft into the garden.
"It was Tandakora," he said, "seeking revenge. But since the arrow has
sped wrong he will not loose another shaft tonight. If it had not been
for his wounded shoulder the arrow might have gone true. It was a
treacherous deed, worthy of the savage Ojibway."
"I hope the time will come," said Willet, "when I shall send a bullet
not through Tandakora's shoulder, but through his heart. I don't love
the shedding of blood, but the forest will be a better forest without
him. Meanwhile, say nothing, lads. Monsieur Jolivet is coming back, but
don't mention the arrow to him. He may find the head of it later on in
the wall, and then he can wonder about it as much as he pleases."
Mine host bustled back. The foul and treacherous attempt, the breaking
off of the arrow, and the comment upon it had taken less than a minute,
and, good observer though he was, he noticed nothing unusual in the
appearance of his guests. They carried their rifles in their hands, but
many visitors to Montreal did the same, and as they were beautiful
weapons they might well guard against their loss.
"Follow me, my Bostonnais," he said lightly. "I have the great room with
three beds for you, and I trust that you have enjoyed the dinner."
"We have enjoyed it greatly, all of it, Monsieur Jolivet, and especially
the dessert," replied Robert with meaning.
"Ah, the pastry," said Monsieur Jolivet, clasping his hands. "It is
Marie who made it. It is the gift that she has, and I shall tell her of
your praise."
But Robert was not thinking of the pastry. It was of the arrow that he
spoke as dessert, although the excellent Monsieur Jolivet was destined
never to know the hidden significance of his words. The room which he
showed them with so much pride was a large apartment worthy of their
praise, having a polished, shining floor of oak, with furs spread here
and there upon it, and a low ceiling crossed with mighty beams also of
oak. Robert looked at the windows, three in number, and he saw with
satisfaction that they had heavy shutters. Monsieur Jolivet's glance
followed his own, and he said:
"The shutters are for use in the winter, when the great colds come, and
the fierce winds rage. But you, messieurs, who live so much in the
forest, will, of course, prefer to keep them wide open tonight."
Robert murmured assent, but when Monsieur Jolivet departed, wishing
them a polite good night, he looked at his comrades.
"We are used to air," said Willet, "and lots of it, but those shutters
will be closed until morning. As Tayoga truly said, he will hardly dare
another arrow, but we mustn't take any risk, however small."
Tayoga nodded approval, and drawing the shutters close, they fastened
them. Then they undressed and lay down upon their beds, but each
prepared to sleep with his rifle beside him.
"The catches on those shutters are good and strong," said Willet, "and
Tandakora, even if he should come again, won't try to break them. It
wouldn't suit the purposes of the French for a warrior of a tribe allied
with them to be caught trying to murder English visitors, and, that
being the case, I expect to go to sleep soon and sleep well."
He was as good as his word. Robert, who blew out the candle, soon heard
his regular breathing. Tayoga, who was used to rooms, the Iroquois
themselves having strong log houses, quickly followed him in slumber,
but young Lennox was not able to compose his nerves for a little while.
He was perhaps more sensitive and imaginative than his comrades, or the
close air may have kept him awake. He could not help feeling that
Tandakora was outside trying the fastenings of the shutters, and at last
rising, he walked on tiptoe and listened at every window in turn. He
heard nothing without but the breathing of the gentle wind, and then,
knowing that it had been only his vivid fancy, he went back to bed and
slept soundly.
"Wake up, Robert, and breathe this air! After our having been sealed up
in a room all night the breeze is heavenly."
The shutters were thrown back, and the hunter and Tayoga, fully dressed,
stood by the windows. The air, fresh, life-giving, coming over the great
forests and the mighty river, was pouring into the room in streams, and
Tayoga and Willet were facing it, in order that they might receive it
straight upon their foreheads. Robert joined them, and soon felt as if
he had been created anew and stronger.
"I'll never again sleep in a room closed tight and hard," said Willet,
"not even to protect my life. I've roamed the free woods for so many
years that I think another such experience would make me choke to
death."
"I'm not in love with it myself," said Robert, "but it makes the world
outside look all the grander and all the more beautiful."
At their wish breakfast was served for them by Monsieur Jolivet in the
garden, Willet insisting that for the present he could not stay any
longer in a house. Robert from his seat could see the end of the broken
barb embedded in the wall, but neither mine host nor any of his
assistants had yet noticed it.
Monsieur Jolivet was pleased that they should have such a brilliant day
to begin their journey to Quebec, and he was telling them where they
could sell their canoe and buy a good boat when Louis de Galisonnière
appeared in the garden and presented them the compliments of the
morning. He looked so trim and so gay that he brought with him a
cheerful breeze, and the three felt the effect of it, although they
wondered at the nature of his errand there. Robert invited him to join
them at breakfast and he accepted their invitation, taking a roll and
butter and a cup of coffee after the French custom which even then
prevailed.
"I see that you've slept well," he said, "and that the inn of Monsieur
Jolivet is as kind to the Bostonnais as it is to the French and the
Canadians."
"Its hospitality to us could be no finer if we came from Paris itself,
instead of the Province of New York," said Robert. "Our stay in Canada
has been short, but most interesting."
Monsieur Jolivet had gone into the inn, and de Galisonnière said:
"Montreal is a fine town and I would not depreciate it in the presence
of our host, but as I have told you before, our Quebec to which you are
going is the true glory of New France. My knowledge that you're going
there is the reason why I've come here this morning."
"How is that?" asked Robert
"Because I received orders last night to depart in the _Frontenac_ for
Quebec, a journey that I undertake with great willingness, since it
takes me where I wish to go. I have also the authority of the commandant
to ask your presence as guests for the voyage on board my vessel. Until
we French and you English actually go to war we might as well be
friends."
Robert glanced at Tayoga and Willet and they nodded slightly. Then he
replied warmly that they accepted the invitation and would go with much
pleasure in the _Frontenac_. After breakfast they sold the canoe and
embarked presently, having first said goodby to Monsieur Jolivet, who
with his best napkin, waved them farewell.
Robert was more than pleased at their good luck. The _Frontenac_ offered
them a better passage than any boat they could buy and have to row
perhaps with their own strength. Moreover, they were already on
excellent terms with de Galisonnière, and it would be a good thing for
them to arrive at Quebec in his company.
A strong wind was blowing, and the _Frontenac_ moved swiftly over the
surface of the great stream which was like liquid green glass that
morning. The three had put their weapons, including Tayoga's bow and
arrows, in the cabin, and they sat on deck with de Galisonnière, who
looked with pride at the magnificent river which was the very artery of
life in the New France of the chevaliers. Robert's own heart throbbed as
he knew that this last stage of their journey would take them to famous
Quebec.
"If the St. Lawrence didn't freeze over for such a long period," said de
Galisonnière, "this region would become in time the greatest empire in
the world."
"But isn't that a huge 'if'?" asked Robert, laughing.
De Galisonnière smiled.
"It is," he said, "but New France is the chief jewel in the French
crown, nevertheless. In time the vice-regal court at Quebec will rule an
empire greater than that of France itself. Think of the huge lakes, the
great rivers, the illimitable forests, beyond them the plains over which
the buffalo herds roam in millions, and beyond them, so they say, range
on range of mountains and forests without end."
"I have been thinking of them," said Robert, "but I've been thinking of
them in a British way."
De Galisonnière laughed again and then grew serious.
"It's natural," he said, "that you should think of them in a British
way, while I think of them in a French way. I suppose we shall have war,
Mr. Lennox, but doesn't it seem strange that England and France should
fight about American territory, when there's so much of it? Here's a
continent that civilized man cannot occupy for many generations. Both
England and France could be hidden away in its forests, and it would
take explorers to find them, and yet we must fight over a claim to
regions that we cannot occupy."
Robert decided then that he liked young de Galisonnière very much. Some
such thoughts had been passing through his own mind, and he was glad
that he could talk frankly about the coming war with one who would be on
the other side, one who would be an official but not a personal enemy.
As the _Frontenac_ slid on through the tumbling green current they
talked earnestly. Willet, sitting near, glanced at them occasionally,
but he too had plenty of thoughts of his own, while Tayoga, saying
nothing, gazed at the high green southern shore. This, so the old men
said, had once been the land of the Mohawks, one of the great nations
of the Hodenosaunee, and now the children of Onontio, who had come with
firearms against bows and arrows, spoke of it as theirs since Manitou
first made the land rise from the deep. Tayoga was silent but he had
many thoughts, and they were thoughts that came to him often and stayed
long.
"De Courcelles and Jumonville, whom you met in the forest," said de
Galisonnière, at length, "arrived in Montreal early last night, and
after a stay of only two or three hours sailed in a schooner for
Quebec."
"Did you see them at all while they were in Montreal?" asked Robert, who
seemed to detect significance in the young Frenchman's tone.
"Only for a few moments," replied de Galisonnière, and Robert, judging
that he wished to avoid more talk on the subject, made no further
reference to de Courcelles. But the knowledge that he had gone on ahead
to Quebec troubled him. De Courcelles was not so young and frank as de
Galisonnière, nor did he seem to have the fine soul and chivalric spirit
of St. Luc. Robert felt the three had cause to fear him.
But the journey down the St. Lawrence continued without serious delay,
although the wind failed now and then and they took to the oars. It was
a voyage full of variety and interest to Robert. He slept that night
with his comrades on the deck of the _Frontenac_, and the next morning
he found a strong wind again blowing.
In time they approached Quebec, and saw the increasing signs of
population that betokened proximity to what was then in the eyes of
North Americans a great capital. On either shore they saw the manor
houses of the seigneurs, solid stone structures, low, steep of roof and
gabled, with clustering outhouses, and often a stone mill near by. The
churches also increased in numbers, and at one point the _Frontenac_
stopped and took on a priest, a tall strongly built man of middle years,
with a firm face. De Galisonnière introduced him as Father Philibert
Drouillard, and Robert felt his penetrating gaze upon his face. Then it
shifted to Willet and Tayoga, resting long upon the Onondaga.
Robert, knowing the great power of the church in Canada, was curious
about Father Drouillard, whom he knew at once to be no ordinary man. His
lean ascetic face seemed to show the spirit that had marked Jogues and
Goupil and those other early priests whom no danger nor Indian torture
could daunt. But he was too polite to ask questions, feeling that time
would bring him all the information he wanted, in which he was right, as
de Galisonnière said later in the day when Father Drouillard was sitting
in the little cabin out of hearing:
"A man of influence at Quebec. He has no parish, nor seems to wish any,
but he is deep in the councils of the Church. It is known, too, that he
corresponds with Rome, with the Holy Father himself, 'tis said, and
there are men high in office at Quebec who wish that he might be called
from New France back to the old land. François Bigot, the Intendant,
does not love him, nor does anyone of the group about Bigot, neither his
commissary general, Cadet, nor Pean, the Town Mayor of Quebec, nor
Descheneaux, nor the others of that group. It's a gorgeous life that our
own court circle leads at Quebec, and at the great Chateau Bigot, in the
midst of its walks and flowers and gardens. I don't know why I'm telling
you these things, Mr. Lennox! It seems they should be the very last to
say to one's official enemy, but I can't feel that I'm doing anything
wrong when I do tell them to you."
His bright face was in gloom for a few moments, and Robert, quick in
perception, had a sudden feeling that this brilliant Quebec, enveloped
in so much color and glamour, might not be so sound within as the
English towns to the south, despite their wrangling. But it merely
increased his anxiety to see Quebec. Life would be all the more complex
there.
The great river spread before them, blue now under a dazzling blue sky,
and the stout _Frontenac_ left a long white trailing wake. A stone
house, larger than usual, showed through the green foliage on the south
bank. Father Drouillard gazed at it, and his face darkened. Presently he
arose and shook his hand towards the house, as if he were delivering a
curse.
"The chateau that you see belongs to the young Count Jean de Mézy, a
friend of the Intendant, Bigot. Sometimes they come from their revels at
Beaumanoir to the Chateau de Mézy, and continue them there. Now you can
see why Father Drouillard, who sympathizes with our _honnêtes gens_,
delivers his malediction."
The priest returned to his seat, and averted his face. An hour later the
mighty rock of Quebec rose before them.