While you here do snoring lie
Open-ey'd conspiracy
His time doth take:
If of life you keep a care,
Shake off slumber, and beware:
Awake! Awake!
_The Tempest._
Amongst the seigniories contiguous to the eastern extremity of the
island of Montreal, lies that of Montboeuf. Its present owner was
Andre Duchatel, a descendent of the Sieur Duchatel, a cadet of an
ancient French noble family, to whom the seigniory was granted by
royal letters patent, about the middle of the seventeenth century.
But if any nobility of soul, or refinement of aspect existed in
the first of the Canadian dynasty of Duchatel, it had not been
transmitted to the living representative of the line. As the long
hung-up sword or unused ploughshare, lose their brightness and edge
from want of use, perhaps these qualities of mind and body had
disappeared for want of a fitter field for their display. Andre
Duchatel, seigneur of Montboeuf, was a vulgar looking, short,
broad-set, florid figure, of fifty years or so; material in his
tastes, in disposition obstinate and narrow-minded, unenlarged by
education; shy with strangers, yet fond of good fellowship with
his acquaintance, and, with much reason, accounted to be rich. He
was a widower, but lived in a kind of surly, patriarchal state, in
the midst of three sons and a daughter; the former being dissipated
and sensual, the latter of a showy person, but in character,
superficial, vain, vindictive, proud.
An intimacy had long existed between the houses of Montigny and
Duchatel, which, in spite of their different genius, had for
generations continued as it were to shake hands across the island.
The latter family, though equal to the former in wealth and pedigree,
secretly acknowledged it as the superior, and with a view to an
alliance between the two, Seraphine Duchatel, even when a child,
was a frequent visitor at Mainville; her relations hoping that
thereby, she and Claude Montigny might become inspired with a mutual
liking, the prelude to their desired union.
This union, it was understood, was to be cemented on the part of
Duchatel, by the gift, as her marriage portion, of a tract of land
adjoining the seigniory of Mainville, and at present the property
of Andre Duchatel; but which, at the nuptials, would be added to
the Montigny manor, as a sort of arriere fief, and so gratify the
craving of the elder Montigny for territorial aggrandizement. The
splendid person of Claude had long ago caught the slight affections
of Seraphine, who in her visits to Mainville, would hang upon him,
much to his distaste, and persist to make him her reluctant cavalier,
though neither her blandishments nor his father's wishes could
induce him to return these visits, or appear to reciprocate her
preference. Nor would a closer and wider acquaintance with the
Duchatels have lessened his reluctance. The eldest son, Samson,
was a colossal bully, dividing his time between field sports,
intemperance, and intrigues with the daughters of the censitors on
his father's seigniory; or in yet lower illicit amours with the
peasant girls of the manorial village; varied by occasional journeys,
made more for debauchery than business, to the city of Montreal.
The second scion of the house, Pierre, was a good-enough looking,
and not ill-disposed youth; whom his father, as if willing to offer
up his choicest lamb for the sins of the family fold, had intended
for the church. But the former had far other intentions towards
the fair than absolving them from their peccadilloes, and entertained
other ideas of foreign travel than that of going on distant Indian
missions; whilst the youngest brother, Alphonse, was an unbroken
colt and madcap, articled to one of the principal legal firms in
the city. Although in years he was but ancle deep, he was already
in potations full five fathoms; a worthy graduate of the
licentiousness of the town, and boon companion of the dissolute
Narcisse; whom, in a giddy moment he had made acquainted with the
family matrimonial design on young Montigny. Narcisse, in his turn,
had a domestic story, that instinct, revenge, and a mother's command
impelled him to relate, and which he told to the rollicking, but
now attentive Alphonse, with a wicked glee, raised by the prospect
of mischief. A discovery had been made by his brooding and despised
parent. Chance had thrown in her way an opportunity for which she
had watched for years. Mona Macdonald had visited the advocate at
his dwelling, and her presence had stirred not only the womanly
curiosity of the lynx-eyed Babet Blais, but her malicious jealousy
of one whom she could never but regard as a hateful and favored
rival. So, overhearing them in earnest conversation in the library,
she, with the unrestrained enjoyment of a low, untutored nature,
stole to the door, that was slightly ajar, and there, with her ear
applied to the interstice, learned the circumstance of the discovered
interview between Claude and Amanda at Stillyside, with their
plighted troth, not disapproved of by the advocate. Swelling with
envy and anger, and recollecting what Narcisse had told her of the
predilection and hopes of Alphonse Duchatel's sister in regard to
Claude Montigny, she, with an intent to dash the proud prospect
which seemed to be opening before the child of an odious--and as
she deemed, unlawful competitor for the advocate's favors, conceived
the spiteful idea of informing the Duchatels of what she had just
discovered. Further to instigate her, all the real and all the
fancied wrongs that her son had suffered from his father rose up
before her, magnified by her imagination, and prompting her to the
gratification of her unreasoning spleen. Her purpose was soon put
into execution. That night Narcisse came home sober; and giving
him some warm supper, followed by a delicacy that she had set aside
for him as a dessert, and which, with a half human, half animal
affection, she watched him devour, she broke the subject to him.
He grinned with an infantile delight, as he heard the important
secret, and discussed with her the project that might hinder the
good fortune of the haughty foundling, whose disdain had long
chagrined him, and under the recollection of whose scorn during
the recent raid on Stillyside, he was yet smarting. With heightened
pleasure she beheld his joyful interest, and, warming with his
sympathy, whilst she gloated over the anticipated revenge, she
exclaimed, as her face assumed a dark, prophetic aspect: "Yes, we
will humble that mongrel, and her proud, petted child. What better
are they than we, what nearer to thy father? See how I toil, and
do his drudgery; keep him a home, who, but for me, would have no
home, and no one to care for him. Yet no fine country house for
me, fine clothes, rich presents; no fine gifts for thee, my child,
no endless schooling, no sending _thee_ to travel; no allowance,
no expense to help to make of thee a gentleman, like his endeavours
to make her child a lady; no fine lady sought for thee to be thy
wife, Narcisse; no closetings for me, who, but for her, had been
thy father's wife, and not his servant. But God and the virgin have
at last heard our prayers. Narcisse, my darling, tell Alphonse
Duchatel all that I have told thyself. Bid him quickly inform his
father, brothers, sister; and if they have French blood in their
veins they will balk this half-breed and her daughter brat."
Never was there an apter pupil than Narcisse proved now; never a
willinger. Scarcely could he refrain from at once rushing forth to
find his friend, Alphonse; and he did at length arise with the
blessing and Godspeed of his mother, intending to inform him,
touching the rival who had so far and so suddenly outstripped his
sister on the road of Claude's regard, when the voice of the advocate
was heard calling upon his son to attend him in the room above.
Narcisse obeyed; but filled with a sentiment of rising rebellion
and new-born insolence, as of one who intends no longer to be
checked, nor submit to unmerited harshness and tyranny. There the
two had an altercation, provoked by the old grudges, and aggravated
by Narcisse's recent dissipation, escapade, and neglect of duty,
and still more sharpened by his present pertness and contumacy.
Anger rose high between parent and child, and the latter, in
unconcealed dudgeon flung from the room, and left the house, his
breast charged with a spiteful purpose; and going straight to the
lodgings of Alphonse Duchatel, he told all--and more than all--that
he had learned respecting the menaced alliance between the children
of Mainville and Montboeuf.
Burning with the information, the young and impetuous Alphonse
scarcely slept that night, and in the morning, having obtained
leave of absence, rode swiftly to his paternal home, and, in sudden,
solemn family council, declared what he had learned of danger to
the connubial scheme that had long been planned for his sister and
the distinction of their house.