He that depends
Upon your favours, swims with fins of lead,
And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye?
With every minute you do change a mind.
SHAKSPEARE.
De Valette was true to his engagement, and before the promised hour,
returned in safety to his ship. With the first dawn of day, the vessels
were put in readiness to weigh anchor, and sail at a moment's warning.
At that crisis, La Tour had the vexation of finding his plans well nigh
frustrated by the stubborness of his New-England allies. Alleging that
they were restricted by their engagement to see La Tour in safety to his
fort, a large majority resolutely declined committing any act of
aggression, or joining in an attack which might be considered beyond the
limits of their treaty. Excessively provoked at what he termed their
absurd scruples, La Tour sent his lieutenant to request a few of the
leading men to meet aboard his vessel, hoping to prevail with them to
relinquish their ill-timed doubts. He walked the quarter-deck with
impatient steps, while waiting the boat's return, and even his French
complaisance could not disguise the chagrin and anger which he felt.
"I have desired your attendance here, gentlemen," he said in a haughty
tone, as they approached him, "to learn how far I may rely on the
services which have been so freely proffered to me."
"As far as our duty to God and our country will permit, sir," replied
one, whose seniority entitled him to take a lead in the discourse.
"Mr. Leveret hath spoken rightly," said another; "and I question if it
is our duty to draw the sword when we are not expressly called to do so,
and especially, as in this instance, when it would seem far better for
it to remain in the scabbard."
"I am ignorant," said La Tour, contemptuously, "of that _duty_ which
would lead a man to play the coward in a moment of difficulty, and
tamely turn from an enemy, who has insultingly defied him, when one
effort can crush him in his grasp."
"_We_ are not actuated by revenge," returned Mr. Leveret; "neither have
we pledged ourselves to support your quarrel with M. d'Aulney; but
touching our agreement to convoy you to your fort of St. John's, we are
ready to fulfil it, even at the peril of our lives."
"These are nice distinctions," said La Tour, angrily; "and had you
explained them more fully at the outset, I should have known what
dependence could be placed on your protection."
"We abhor deceit," said Mr. Leveret, calmly; "and that which we have
promised, we are ready to perform; but we are not permitted to turn
aside from this design, to pursue an enemy who flees before us."
"As our conduct in this affair is entirely a matter of conscience and
private opinion," said Arthur Stanhope, "I presume every one is at
liberty to consult his own wishes, and follow the dictates of his own
judgment; for myself, I have freely offered to assist M. de la Tour to
the extent of my abilities, and I wait his commands in whatever service
he may choose to employ me."
"I expected this, from the honour of your profession; and the frankness
of your character," said La Tour, with warmth; "and believe me, your
laurels will not be tarnished, in the cause you have so generously
espoused."
"I trust, young man," said Mr. Leveret, "that you are aware of the
responsibility you incur, by acting thus openly in opposition to the
opinion of so many older and more experienced than yourself."
"I have no doubt that many will be ready to censure me," returned
Stanhope; "and some, perhaps, whose judgments I much respect; but I
stand acquitted to my own conscience, and am ready to give an answer for
what I do, to any who have a right to question me."
"And the crew of your vessel?"--asked Mr. Leveret.
"I shall use no undue influence with any one," interrupted Stanhope;
"though I think there is scarcely a man in my service, who is not
resolved to follow me to the end of this enterprise."
"We part, then," said Mr. Leveret; "and may heaven prosper you in all
your _lawful_ undertakings."
"Your emphasis on the word _lawful_," returned Stanhope, "implies a
doubt, which I hope will soon be discarded; but, in the mean time, let
as many as choose return with you, and I doubt not there will be enough
left with us to assist M. de la Tour on this occasion."
The conference was shortly terminated; and it was amicably settled, that
those who hesitated to depart from the strict letter of their agreement,
should proceed in three of the English vessels, with M. de la Tour, to
fort St. John's. De Valette and Stanhope were left in command of the two
largest ships, with discretionary powers to employ them as circumstances
might render expedient.
The delay which these arrangements necessarily occasioned, was improved
to the utmost by M. d'Aulney. Convinced, that he was unable to cope with
the superior force, which opposed him, he took advantage of a favorable
wind, and, at an early hour, crowded sail for his fort at Penobscot. De
Valette and Stanhope pursued, as soon as they were at liberty; but,
though they had occasional glimpses of his vessels through the day, they
found it impossible to come up with them. Night at length terminated
the fruitless chase; they were imperfectly acquainted with the coast,
and again obliged to anchor, when day-light no longer served to direct
their course in the difficult waters they were navigating.
Morning shone brightly on the wild shores of the Penobscot, within whose
ample basin the vessels of De Valette and Stanhope rode securely at
anchor. The waves broke gently around them, and the beautiful islands,
which adorn the bay, garlanded with verdure and blossoms, seemed
rejoicing in the brief but brilliant summer, which had opened upon them.
Dark forests of evergreens, intermingled with the lighter foliage of the
oak, the maple, and other deciduous trees, covered the extensive coast,
and fringed the borders of the noble Penobscot, which rolled its silver
tide from the interior lakes to mingle with the waters of the ocean. The
footsteps of civilized man seemed scarcely to have pressed the soil,
which the hardy native had for ages enjoyed as his birthright; and the
axe and ploughshare had yet rarely invaded the hunting grounds, where he
pursued the wild deer, and roused the wolf from his lair. A few French
settlers, who adhered to D'Aulney, had built and planted around the
fort, which stood on a point of land, jutting into the broad mouth of
the river, and these were the only marks of cultivation which disturbed
the vast wilderness that spread around them.
The local advantages of this situation, rendered it a place of
consequence, and its possession had already been severely contested. As
a military post, on the verge of the English colonies, its retention was
important to the French interest in Acadia; and the extensive commerce
it opened with the natives in the interior, through the navigable
streams, which emptied into the bay, was a source of private emolument,
that D'Aulney was anxious to secure. To retain these advantages, he
wished to avoid an engagement with La Tour, whose newly acquired
strength rendered him, at that time, a formidable opponent. He was,
therefore, anxious to preserve his small naval force from destruction,
and, for that purpose, he found it necessary to run his vessels into
shallow water, where the enemy's heavier ships could not follow.
This plan was accomplished during the night; and when De Valette and
Stanhope approached the fort, at an early hour, they were surprised to
find that D'Aulney had drawn his men on shore, and thrown up
intrenchments to defend the landing-place. Though baffled in their first
design by this artifice, they were but the more zealous to effect some
object which might realize the expectations of La Tour. With this
intention, they passed up the narrow channel to the north of the
peninsula, in boats; and landing a portion of their men, attacked M.
d'Aulney in his intrenchments. The assault was so sudden and determined,
that every obstacle yielded to its impetuosity, and D'Aulney in vain
endeavored to rally his soldiers, who fled in confusion to the shelter
of the fort, leaving several of their number dead and wounded in the
trenches. Convinced, that it would be rashness to pursue, as the fort
was well manned, and capable of strong resistance, the young officers
drew off their men in good order, and returned to their vessels without
the loss of an individual. They remained in the bay of Penobscot for
several days, when, convinced that nothing more could be done at that
time, they thought it advisable to return to St. John's.
Night was closing in, as the vessels drew near the entrance of the
river; every sail was set, and a stiff breeze bore them swiftly onward.
A bright streak still lingered in the western horizon, and in the east,
a few stars began to glimmer through the hazy atmosphere. The
watch-lights of the fort at length broke cheerfully on the gloom, and
strongly contrasted with the dark line of forests, which frowned on the
opposite shore. The boding notes of the screech-owl, and the howling of
wild beasts, which came from their deep recesses, were silenced by the
animating strains of martial music, which enlivened the solitary scene.
They anchored before the walls, and the friendly signal of De Valette
was quickly answered by the sentinel on duty. With light footsteps the
young Frenchman sprang on shore, and followed by Arthur Stanhope,
passed the gateway, which led to the interior of the fort.
"Methinks the garrison have retired early to-night," said De Valette;
"there is scarcely a face to be seen, except a few long-favored
Presbyterians;--it is a Catholic holiday, too, and our soldiers are not
wont to let such pass by without a merry-making. Ho, Ronald!" he
continued, addressing the guard, "what is in the wind now, my honest
fellow? are you all dead, or asleep within here?"
"Neither, please your honor," he answered, in a dolorous accent; "but
what is worse, they have all gone astray, and are, even now, looking
with sinful eyes upon the wicked ceremonies of that abominable church of
Rome."
"You are warm, good Ronald; but where is your lord?"
"Even gone with the multitude, in this evil matter; and, as our worthy
teacher, Mr. Broadhead, hath observed, it is a double condemnation for
one like him--"
"Hush, sirrah!" interrupted De Valette, sharply; "not a word of
disrespect to your lord and commander, or I will throw you, and your
worthy teacher, over the walls of the fort. Speak at once, man, and tell
me, what has taken place here."
"It is a bridal, please your honor, and--"
"A bridal!" exclaimed De Valette, rapidly changing color; "and where
have you found a bride and bridegroom, in this wilderness?"
"My lady's young--" Ronald began; but De Valette waited not to hear the
conclusion, for at that moment a light, streaming from a low building
opposite, attracted his attention, and, with nervous irritability, he
advanced towards it. It was the building used for a Catholic chapel, and
the light proceeded from a nuptial procession, which was then issuing
from it. Two boys walked before it, in loose black garments, with white
scarfs thrown over their shoulders, and bearing flaming torches in their
hands. Next came father Gilbert, with slow, thoughtful steps; and La
Tour beside him, with the stern, abstracted countenance of one, who had
little concern in the ceremonies, which he sanctioned by his presence.
Behind them was the bridegroom, a handsome young soldier, who looked
fondly on the blushing girl, who leaned upon his arm, and had just
plighted her faith to him, by an irrevocable vow. The domestics of La
Tour's household followed, with the Catholic part of the garrison; and,
as soon as the door of the chapel closed, a lively air was struck up, in
honor of the joyful occasion.
"I am a fool," murmured De Valette to himself, when a full examination
had satisfied him,--"an errant fool; 'tis strange, that _one_ image must
be forever in my mind; that I should tremble at the very sound of a
bridal, lest, perchance, it might be _her's_."
Ashamed of the emotion he had involuntarily betrayed, De Valette turned
to look for Stanhope, who remained on the spot, where he had left him,
engrossed by a scene, which was amusing from its novelty, and the
singularity of time and place where it occurred.
"You must excuse me, Stanhope," he said; "but my curiosity, for once,
exceeded my politeness; it is not often that we 'marry, and give in
marriage,' in this wilderness,--though I will, by and by, shew you a
damsel, whom kings might sue for."
"_My_ curiosity is excited now," returned Stanhope; "and, if beauty is
so rare with you, beware how you lead me into temptation. It is an old
remark, that love flies from the city, and is most dangerous amidst the
simplicity of nature."
"Forewarned, forearmed; remember," said De Valette, laughing, "I am a
true friend, but I could ill brook a rival."