A Little Girl in Old Quebec by Amanda Minnie Douglas (kiss me liar novel english TXT) 📖

from him, and miladi would never see her again. Why could she not have loved M. Boulle? Did it take so much love to be a man's wife? to be held in his arms and kissed, to live with him day by day--and she shuddered at the thought.

But she was young, and the flood of tears subsided. She sat up, leaning against a stout pine. Then she rose and peered about. Was it true that M. Boulle was to go away? What if he came and found her again?

She crawled out cautiously, and looked up at the sun. It had passed the meridian. She was hungry, so she searched about and found some berries, but she longed for something more substantial. For the first time solitude seemed to pall upon her. She felt as if everything had been swept away.

Toward night she crept down to the settlement. Several of the Indian women would take her in, she knew. There was Noko sitting just outside her tent; she would not accept a cabin of logs or stone. She was making a cape of gulls' feathers, that she might sell to some of the traders, who often took curious Indian finery home with their furs. Her three sons were trappers. One had a wife and three children that the poor mother provided for, and when her brave came home, she was devoted to him, grateful for a pleasant word. What curious ideas these aborigines had of wedded love!

"Noko, will you take me in for the night, and give me some supper?" she asked, as she threw herself down beside the Indian woman, who, at forty, looked at least sixty, and though she had the face of her tribe, it was marked by a grave sort of pleasantness, and not the severity that generally characterized middle life.

"Has the Sieur gone to Tadoussac?"

"Not that I know of. But I have offended miladi. And your wigwam is always so clean, and there are no children."

The woman shook her head with a sort of remonstrance.

"You will have them of your own some day. When they are little, you will care for them. They will be no trouble. When they are older, you will be proud of them, and rejoice in their bravery. Then they go away, and forget."

She began to put up her work. "Are you in earnest?" she asked. "Do you need shelter?"

"Oh, the Gaudrions would take me in, but there is such a crowd, I am for a little quiet and solitude to-night."

"Thou shalt have it. The Sieur has been good to me. But it is hardly wise to quarrel with one's home."

"There was no quarrel. Miladi wanted me to do something that I could not. And you know I have no real claim upon them, Noko, I belong to Quebec, not to any person."

She gave a little laugh that sounded almost shrill. There was not so much joy in belonging only to one's self.

"To Quebec, yes."

"Now let me kindle the fire. See how handy I can be. And to-morrow I can help you with that beautiful cape. I suppose the great ladies in Paris feel very grand in some of these things. I heard the Governor say that a great deal of money was paid for a deerskin dress by some one at court. It was worked beautifully, and as soft as velvet."

Rose busied herself in her eager, graceful fashion. Noko broiled some deer steak on the coals, and had a stew made of various things, with fish for the foundation. Rose was not very partial to this, but the steak and the cakes made of rye and corn, and well browned, tasted good to the hungry girl. There was a tea made of herbs, which had a delightful fragrance.

Afterward they sat in the doorway, and one and another came to give Noko a bit of gossip. Rose crept off to bed presently. How fragrant the fresh balsam of fir was, and the tired girl soon fell asleep.

M. Destournier had been quite engrossed with a few forgotten things that had to go to Tadoussac. Then the vessel pushed off and he turned to the storehouse. Presently a load would go to France. Though he was mechanically busy, his thoughts turned to Rose. She must have another home. He had wondered more than once how it had come to pass that miladi had lost so many of her charms, yet grown so much more exacting. He had awakened to the fact that he had never been a rapturous lover. He paid Eustache Boulle all honor that he had proved so manly and brave, yet in his secret heart he felt glad that Rose had not loved him. Why, he could not tell, except that she was too young. And he wondered how much miladi had loved Laurent Giffard. How much was she capable of loving? And the sweet angel-like Helene, who had willingly crossed the ocean and exiled herself from the life she loved to these uncongenial surroundings. They were that for a woman.

When business was through with, he made his way down to M. Hebert's. Though the man had been bred an apothecary, and had a wider education than many in a higher round, he was making an excellent and enthusiastic farmer. Madame Hebert had brought some of the old-world knowledge and frugality with her, and put them in practice, bringing up her daughters to habits of industry, while the son was equally well trained by the father.

M. Hebert was busy with his young fruit trees. Every year he sent for some hardy kind, and had quite a variety. He was a colonist, which so few of the emigrants were.

After a walk about the garden, they went in to see Madame Hebert and Therese, who was making lace. Then M. Destournier preferred his request that they would take Rose for a while. He did not hint at any disagreement. Madame Destournier's health was precarious, and she had little idea of what was necessary for a girl, having been convent-trained herself. Now that Madame de Champlain had gone there was no real companionship for Rose, who was surely outgrowing her childish fancies.

"How would you like it, Therese?" asked her mother.

Therese was a solid dark-eyed, dark-haired, rather heavy-looking girl, without the French vivacity and eagerness. Destournier smiled inwardly; he could hardly fancy their being companions; yet in a way, each might benefit the other.

"Why--if you approved. Though I am never lonely," raising her eyes to the visitor.

"Rose is quite given to rambling about. She haunts the woods, she is fond of canoeing, and I think she has quite a mind for study. I am sorry there are so few opportunities. Our good fathers seem to frown on everything but prayers."

"Prayers are good, but there must be work, as well," said Madame Hebert, who had been brought up a Huguenot, and who thought conventual life a great waste.

"I should like the change for her. It may not be for long, but it would be a favor. And you need not feel that you must devote a great deal of time and energy to her, but give her the shelter of a home, until matters change a little," with a hopeful accent in his voice, and a smile that had the same aspect.

"Madame Destournier is not well?" in a tone of inquiry.

"No. She should have gone to France with the Sieur and his wife, but it was thought she had not the strength to stand the sea voyage. I feel much troubled about her."

Madame Hebert was sympathetic, but she had never admired the wife as much as she did the husband. She was too volatile in the early days, and held her head quite too high.

It was arranged that Rose should be an inmate of the Hebert home for a month or two. It was such a comfortable, cheerful-looking place. There was a set of bookshelves, and no one beside the Governor owned more than a prayer-book, which did little good, since they could hardly read in their own language.

M. Ralph did not go at once to his wife, but stopped in the kitchen. Mawha was brewing some herbs. Wanamee entered with a plate on which there was some wheaten toast.

"She will not take it. She does nothing but fret for Monsieur, and say dreadful things about _ma fille_"--then she stopped in a fright, seeing her master.

"Where is Rose?" he asked.

"She has not been here all day. I sent Pani to look for her, but he has not returned."

M. Destournier went to his wife's room. She was hysterical and unreasonable.

"Promise me that such a miserable, deceitful thing as that girl is shall never enter this house," she cried. "I cannot breathe the same air with her. You must choose between us. If you keep to her, I shall know you have no love for me. I will kill myself."

"Marguerite, calm yourself. Rose is not to remain here, but go to the Heberts. So you will have quiet and nothing to do but recover your health. And if you can get well enough, we will go to Montreal, as I have to transact some business. The change will do you good."

"You will not take her?"

"No, no. Now let the girl alone. She is provided for, and you have the two women at your service."

"She did nothing for me. And after roaming the woods and canoeing with M. Boulle, she should have been glad to marry him, for decency's sake."

"We will let her quite alone," he exclaimed authoritatively. "Why did you not eat some supper?"

"I couldn't. Oh, Ralph, be kind to me. Do not let that girl steal your love from me. I was quite as pretty in youth, but the years are hard on one. And I need your love more than ever. You are not tender and caressing as Laurent was."

He bent over and kissed her, smoothed her tangled hair, and patted the hot cheek.

"I have been busy all day, and have had no supper," he began, loosening the hands about his neck.

She sobbed wildly. She had been so lonely all day. She missed M. Boulle so much. He would have been a son to them.

He had to tear himself away. He did not take his supper, but rushed out to make inquiries. Where had Rose gone? Was she wandering about the woods? There had been wolves, stray Indians, and a dozen dangers. The palisade gates were fastened. He asked at two or three of the cabins, where he knew she was a favorite. And where was Pani?

Pani was asleep on a soft couch of moss, under a clump of great oak trees. He had lain down, warm and tired, and his nap was good for ten or twelve hours.

"I saw her by Noko's wigwam," said a woman, as she heard him inquiring.

Not even waiting to thank her, he rushed thither. Noko had the reputation of being a sort of seer, though she seldom used her gift. She sat on the stone beside her door, and a woman knelt before her, to whom she was talking in a low monotonous tone. His step startled the listener, and she sprang up.

"Whither did Rose go?" he asked peremptorily, seizing Noko's arm.

"She is here, Monsieur. She is in bed asleep. There is trouble and the fair-haired woman hates her. You had better not try to make