THE HEIGHTS OF QUEBEC
Christopher was at once examined by M. Arnoux, the surgeon, who
obligingly came at Angelique's request, and before long he met us
to report that his patient was in no danger; his wound was dressed,
and a night's sleep would go far to put him on his feet again. He
could be seen without even fatigue on the morrow. I left word with
the sister in charge that she should tell him I was in the convent,
and would come to him about eleven.
I had no hesitation in telling Lucy the news; indeed, the suspense
of every day that passed was wearing her frail body away so rapidly
that, had not God seen fit to send His answer to her prayer at this
very time, she would have passed beyond its comfort. As it was,
the news acted on her like some generous wine, strengthening without
exciting her, her only request being that Christopher should not
be brought to her until he was quite able for the exertion.
When I entered Christopher's room he was already sitting up in bed,
his eyes fairly dancing with delight.
"Oh, Madame de St. Just! Think of my being brought here, to find
you and my mother under the same roof, and that it was Captain
Maxwell who brought me! He saved me when I was down with an Indian
over me, and did not get me off without standing some hard knocks
himself. He carried me into the French lines, and as soon as the
affair was over, rode with me before him all this distance, keeping
my heart up the time by saying, 'Kit, my boy, I am taking you to
your mother,' and I so near swooning with this stupid arm I could
scarce hear him. You know I was with him in Louisbourg, and when
I was a child in London he lodged with us, as he was in hiding on
account of the Scotch rising and calling himself Captain Geraldine.
But tell me of my mother, madame. Can I not see her now?"
I told him as discreetly as I could of poor Lucy's condition, and
he bore up astonishingly well. What seemed to trouble him greatly
was the thought that he had never dreamed of the possibility of
her being ill. "Even though she was a prisoner I never feared she
would be hardly treated; no one could so cruel to my mother, she
is so gentle!" the poor lad continued. "I knew you were with her,
and I never thought of the other danger at all. I was so happy
when I fell into English hands and was allowed to enlist in Boston,
and in Fraser's Highlanders, too, not in a Colony regiment; and
when we found there was no danger of peace being proclaimed, and
that we were for Quebec, we were all mad with joy to have another
crack at the French. Oh, pardon me, madame; I forgot you were on
their side," he cried, with a sudden confusion; "and I never doubted
for a moment I should find her here."
The next day the surgeon pronounced him out of all possible danger,
and added, significantly, "If his mother is to see him, it is best
it should be at once." Thereupon I obtained the necessary permission,
and never have I seen greater joy in a face than in Lucy's, when
I ushered Christopher into her room.
That same evening, as I sate beside her, though she lay quiet and
composed, I noticed a grave change had come over her, and calling
one of the sisters who had had much experience, she at once said
the end was near.
With the permission of the Superior I went for Christopher, and
led him, white and awe--struck, to the bedside of his mother. She
asked that I would not leave--"if it be not a trouble to you,
madame," the poor thing pleaded, pitifully--and I remained beside
them.
"Christopher," she said, with an effort, "I made a promise years
ago that when this hour came I would tell you the truth about
yourself. Our name is not Routh, but Maxwell; you are the son of
the Captain Maxwell who saved you--and brought you back to me. You
remember him as the 'Captain Geraldine' who lodged with us in
London? He had married me six years before, when we were but little
more than boy and girl, and when you were born he was wandering a
shipwrecked man in Russia, seeking eagerly some means of return to
us, though I was persuaded he had deserted me. When he returned,
and was willing to acknowledge me as his wife, I was hardened into
a heartless woman, believing myself separated, by what I ignorantly
called God's grace, from him and the world to which he belonged.
In my pride I refused to let him come into our lives, though he
implored me to let him make such restitution as was in his power.
He behaved as few men would have done; for the sake of the old
love, he bore with me and accepted my conditions--that he would
never mention our marriage, and would never come between you and
me. He let you go away from his side in Louisbourg, though his
heart was yearning for you; because his honour, a quality which I
pretended not to understand, forbade him to forget his promise to
me. He was always good to me, far beyond my deserts, and my hope,
now that my eyes are opened, is that you, Christopher, will remember
my debt to him.
"Try and be gentle, my boy. Be true to him. He has had a sad, lonely
life, but you may make it up to him yet. When you see him, tell
him from me... tell Hugh..."--but here I silently withdrew, leaving
the mother to whisper her last message of contrition to the boy
kneeling beside her bed.
Pitiful as was poor Lucy's story, I could gather but little comfort
from it. It seemed to me that in marrying out of his own class Hugh
had committed so grave a fault that whatever followed in the way
of misunderstanding was but to be expected. He had been kind,
forbearing, larger-minded than she had known; she had not even
realised the sense of honour which had made her a wife and not a
mistress. It had gone the way of all mistakes, and produced nothing
but bitterness and regret. From it I could gather no excuse, no
justification of his conduct towards me; he had allowed my affection
to grow up and centre in him without a warning I could understand
of the heart-break which confronted me, and I could not see that
his obligation towards her who had cast his love aside was more
sacred than to her to whom it was all in all.
We laid Lucy to rest in the garden of the Hospital--without the
rites of the Church, it is true, but not without both prayers and
tears, and then took up the daily round of duty once more.
Christopher, being no longer a patient, was ordered off to the town
as a prisoner, but I sent with him a note to M. Joannes which
secured him generous treatment. Through the month of August the
wounded continued to come in, and though our troops were starving
as they stood behind their lines of defence, they were one and all
hopeful of the result. The bombardment from the Levy shore continued
until the town was little more than a heap of ruins, and night
after night the sky was red with the glare of burning buildings.
Part of the enemy's fleet had passed the city and threatened to
cut off all supplies from the upper parishes. There were ugly
rumours, too, of the Canadians deserting, for the tidings of the
loss of Carillon and Niagara had gone far to dishearten them. On
the other hand, we had authentic news of the desperate illness of
the English general, Wolfe, and even though M. de Levis was forced
to march to the support of Montreal, the unfaltering courage of M.
de Montcalm so inspired our troops that they held on successfully,
praying for relief or the coming of winter.
About the beginning of September Angelique came to me greatly
excited.
"Oh, Marguerite, Charles is here! He is very ill. Will you come
and see him?"
"Is he wounded?"
"No. But he has suffered incredible hardships in Acadie, and he is
ill--so ill that he cannot be in his place in the field. Come, he
has just been asking my mother for you. Come!"
"Impossible, cherie; M. Arnoux is depending on my supply of lint
for a patient," I replied, and so escaped for the moment. But with
the persistency of innocence she returned to her demand as we sate
with her mother that evening.
"Marguerite, Charles has been asking for you again this afternoon.
Will you see him the first thing in the morning?"
"I do not know, cherie; neither your mother nor the Superior has
given her permission as yet," I answered, much troubled at her
insistence.
"Oh, Marguerite, this is ungenerous of you!" cried the warm-hearted
girl. "Think, how ready Charles was to serve you when you wished
to go to Louisbourg! This is no time to stand on trifles."
"Angelique take care you are not ungenerous yourself," said Mme.
de Sarennes, much to my relief. "Charles must not be childish in
his demands. There is no reason why Marguerite should visit him
until he is up and prepared to receive her fittingly, for there is
no reason why war should banish every rule of decorum." And with
these decided words the difficulty was dismissed, though not at
all to Angelique's satisfaction.
At daybreak on the 13th of September we were awakened by the sound
of guns above the city, and hastened to the attic windows; but
drift of passing showers hid the valley from us, while the Heights
loomed grey and shrouded above. There was nothing to enlighten us,
and in company with our fears we descended to wait uneasily for
tidings.
I grew so anxious and depressed in the half-lighted halls that I
could not remain below, and returned towards our room. But just as
I approached the door some one came hurriedly along the corridor,
and to my dismay I recognised M. de Sarennes.
"Stay one moment, mademoiselle; I must speak with you." His voice
was trembling, and even in the struggling light I could see his
dark face was drawn and haggard, though his black eyes burned with
a fiercer light than before.
"It is useless, M. de Sarennes; I can hear nothing you have to say.
Remember your mother and sister are here within call, and you will
only cause them pain if you force me to summon aid, which I will
certainly do. Have some pity for them if you have none for me."
"Answer me but one question. Do you love this Maxwell?"
"M. de Sarennes, I will tell you nothing. You have no right to
question me."
"My God, Marguerite! have I not done everything for you?"
"You have done me every injury in your power. You have never spoken
to me that you have not tortured me so I cannot look on you without
fear and loathing."
At my words he stepped close to me, but before either could utter
a sound, a shrill cry came from above:
"O mon Dieu! mon Dieu! The English are on the Heights."
Doors were thrown open, and in an instant the corridors were filled
with white faces, and hurrying feet were flying towards the stairways.
"Nonsense!" cried a reassuring voice when we gained the upper
windows. "Those are our troops! See, they are crossing the bridge!"
"No. Here! Here! See! Just opposite us, over the edge of the hill."
And as we crowded to the side whence the cry came our hearts sank
as we saw a little patch of red against the morning sky.
"Bah! They are only a handful. See how our men are crossing the
St. Charles! There! They are coming out of the St. John's Gate
now!"
"Mes soeurs, we will descend to the chapel," said the calm voice
of la mere de Ste. Claude, and at her words the obedient nuns
recovered their usual air of quiet and flocked after her, as did
many of the others; but Angelique and I remained.
We could plainly see our troops defiling out of the town in a
seemingly unending line, and could distinguish their officers riding
to and fro giving orders; but the little point of red remained
immovable, and we could not tell whether it was an army or a single
detachment.
Regulars, Canadians, and Indians continued to pour across the bridge
of boats, and to cross through the town from the Palais to the St.
John's Gate, whence they issued, and moved off towards the left,
hidden from us by the rising ground.
We stood there hour after hour, forgetful of fatigue and hunger in
our anxiety. We could hear the faint reports of musketry and the
dull growl of cannon, but could not tell whence they came. Soon we
discovered scattered figures stealing along under the shelter of
the hill towards the point of red, and as they drew nearer could
distinguish the blue and grey of our Canadians and the head-dresses
of Indians. At length spurts of smoke began to leap from the bushes
all along the crest of the hill opposite us, extending far beyond
the point where the red had been, and, from the sensible increase
in the firing, we judged the battle had begun.
But about ten o'clock we heard such a general discharge of cannon
and musketry, and marked such instantaneous movement along the line
of skirmishers, that we knew what we had taken for the battle was
but child's play. Suddenly the confused noise and firing were
dominated by one sharp roar like to the clap of a thunder-bolt,
followed by a second, and then by a long rolling fire. To this
succeeded cheers, different from any we had heard before, above
which I caught the shrill skirl of the bagpipes, while a great
cloud of smoke slowly rose and drifted to and fro in the heavy air.
Out of this, on a sudden, burst a screaming mob of men in mad,
death-driven disorder, some sweeping towards the St. John's Gate,
while others plunged down over the side of the hill to gain the
bridge of boats. After them, in as wild pursuit, came the enemy,
foremost of whom were the Highlanders, with flying tartans, shouting
their slogan as they leaped and clambered recklessly down the
hill-side, slashing at the fugitives with their claymores, while
the pipes screamed in maddening encouragement above.
The disaster was so unexpected, so instantaneous, that we could
not comprehend it, and stood there in silent awe absorbed in the
dreadful tragedy before us.
"O ciel! Marguerite! See, there is M. de Maxwell! On the Cote Ste.
Genevieve!" cried Angelique, in a hoarse, strained voice, pointing
as she spake.
The Cote Ste. Genevieve, a long and dangerous descent from the
Heights, beginning near the town, down to the level on which the
Hospital stood, was exposed in all its length not only to the fire
of the enemy above, but also to that of a number of Canadians, who,
though driven down and across it, had rallied at its base and were
disputing the descent of the Highlanders and other of the English.
Down this rode Hugh. He was mounted on a powerful black horse and
came on at perilous speed. But the pursuers had marked him also,
and just as he gained the middle of the descent the hill-side above
him blazed out in a sweeping volley, and down he went on the neck
of his horse. An involuntary cry burst from us both, but even as
it sped he was erect again, and with hat in hand came spurring on,
waving and cheering to the brave fellows below. In another moment
he was in their midst, where, dismounting, he seemed to give the
needed orders for their guidance. Unofficered and undirected, they
had stubbornly disputed every inch of ground when all others had
given way, and now, under a few words of encouragement from a
gallant man, to our amazement, we saw them actually attempt to
scale the hill, firing upwards as they climbed. They were not
regulars; they made no pretence to the science of war; they had
been despised and belittled probably by every officer in the service
for their manner of fighting; yet now in the hour of need they
alone stood firm between the flying army and destruction.
[Illustration: "With hat in hand came spurring on."]
As soon as he saw them steadied in their advance, Hugh mounted and
rode off towards another group busied in an attempt to drag a heavy
gun from some soft ground where it was deeply bogged, and then on
again towards the bridge of boats, the only way of escape for the
defeated troops.
"O mon Dieu! They will never cross! The bridge is blocked!" cried
a despairing voice, and we trembled together as we watched the
rabble gathering in a mad rush towards the narrow passage, mixed
in hideous confusion, with the exception of the Royal Roussillon,
which stood as firm as if on parade.
The struggle still went on along the foot of the hill, where the
Canadians manfully held their ground; but, to our dismay, we saw
that some fresh disaster had happened at the bridge.
"O mon Dieu! They are cutting it! The whole army will be lost!"
But there was more efficient aid at hand than our useless cries.
Even as we despaired we saw Hugh with other officers struggle
through the mob, and, sword in hand, beat back the terror-stricken
crowd until they gained the head of the bridge, when the Royal
Roussillon moved into position, and soon the straggling columns
took form and passed rapidly over beyond the shelter of the hornwork.
The pursuit was checked, as far as we could see, by the unaided
efforts of the Canadians; the English halted, reformed, and slowly
withdrew; the last of our troops recrossed the St. Charles; and in
the twilight we saw our colours still flying on the ramparts of
Quebec.
There was nothing more for us to see, perhaps nothing more to hope,
and broken in body and in spirit we wearily descended the stairways,
and traversed the long corridors in silence until we reached the
main hall on the ground-floor.
The room was barely lighted by a few candles at one end, and was
filled to overflowing by the nuns of the three orders, mingled with
those who had shared their generous hospitality--old and feeble
gentlemen whose fighting days had long passed; grey-haired
gentlewomen, patient and resigned, others in the full bloom of
youth, and young girls and children, pale and anxious-eyed; while
in the circle of light beneath the great black crucifix on the
white wall stood the commanding figure of la mere de Ste. Claude,
and with her la mere de Ste. Helene of the Hotel-Dieu, and la mere
de la Nativite of the Ursulines.
All were listening with breathless attention to the words that fell
from the venerable Bishop of Quebec, Monseignieur de Pontbriand,
whose quiet bearing and measured tones carried assurance to many
a fainting heart.
"My children," he was saying, as we entered, "do not forget, in
our day of disaster, that we are not left helpless. Let us for
our comfort say together those words, which we learned to lisp as
children, but perhaps only to understand to-night." And, as he
raised his hand, the people knelt, and with voices that gained
confidence as the familiar words fell from his lips, they repeated
the "Qui habitat" in unison: "He that dwelleth in the secret place
of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty."
[Illustration: "He that dwelleth in the secret place of
the Most High."]
The common danger, the common worship, drew us together. Each
succeeding verse, with its divine assurance of safety and protection,
brought to us a quiet and a confidence which renewed our strength.
But even as all hearts were lifted there came a commanding knock
at the outer door opposite the chapel, which was immediately
repeated, and la mere Ste. Claude signed it should be opened.
Angelique and I, being at the threshold of the hall, hastened to
obey, and found ourselves in the presence of a general officer,
behind whom was a detachment of soldiers in Highland uniform. The
officer stepped into the hall as one who takes possession, and
demanded the Superior, in accurate French.
She came forward followed by the principal nuns and ladies.
"Have no fear, mesdames," he said, bowing low with much elegance
of manner; "I am General Townshend. You will suffer no harm; but
we must take possession of your convent, for your protection as
well as our own."
"You are victors, monsieur, and can command," she said, bitterly.
"We are victors, madame," he returned, gravely, "but we have bought
our honours dearly. Our general lies dead on the plain above."
"C'est sur le champ d'honneur, monsieur," she instantly responded,
in a tone of much feeling.
"A thousand thanks for your sympathy, madame; we will use every
diligence to preserve it. Captain Nairn will take charge here, and
will give you assurance of safety and protection from insult. In
return, you will kindly offer such shelter to the wounded as is
possible, and furnish him with every information as to the number
of rooms available, for I must ask for all accommodation in your
power."
He introduced Captain Nairn and withdrew at once, followed by the
assurances of the Superior that everything would be done for the
comfort of the wounded.
It was with a curious feeling that I looked on my brother, for I
could not doubt that it was he, though I had not seen him since we
were children. Despite the disorder of his dress and his evident
fatigue, he was a handsome man, though not much taller than myself.
His address was natural and easy, and certainly his French was
perfect; I had but a moment to gather this, for we were at once
dismissed from our attendance by the Superior, who remained alone
to arrange with our new masters.
"O, ciel! Marguerite! is that your brother?" whispered Angelique,
excitedly.
"Yes, cherie, I have no doubt it is," I answered, sadly.
"I should not sigh over such a misfortune," she cried, gayly. "You
are cold-blooded creatures, you Scotch! Why, I should have been
weeping on his neck long ago, no matter what had happened! He has
eyes like yours."