A Sister to Evangeline by Sir Charles G. D. Roberts

  Chapter V

  The Black Abbé Defers

  “You are welcome, father,” began Monsieur de Lamourie, advancing to meetthe visitor, “to my humble”—But the harsh voice cut him short.

  “Lie not to me, Giles de Lamourie,” said the grim priest, extending along left hand as if in anathema. “Well do I know my face is not welcomein this house!”

  De Lamourie drew himself up haughtily, and Madame interrupted.

  “Good father,” said she most sweetly, but with an edge to her voice, “doyou not take something the advantage of your gown? Might I not be sobold as to entreat a more courteous deliverance of your commands?”

  “What have I to do with forms and courtesies, woman?” he answered—andignored Yvonne’s laughing acquiescence of “What, indeed, monsieur?” “Icome to admonish you back to your duty; and to warn you, if you heednot. I learn that you are about to go to Halifax, Giles de Lamourie, andthere forswear France, bowing your neck to the English robber. Is thistrue?”

  “I am about to swear allegiance to England, Father La Garne,” said DeLamourie coldly.

  The priest’s pale eyes narrowed.

  “There is yet time to change your mind,” said he, in a voice grownsuddenly smooth. “Give me your word that you will remain faithful toFrance and the bolt which even now hangs over your recreant head shallnever fall!”

  I looked about me in deep astonishment. Yvonne’s face was splendid inits impatient scorn. Madame looked solicitous, but composed. Andersonsmiled coolly. But De Lamourie was hot with indignation.

  “It was not to be dictated to by every tonsured meddler that I came toAcadie,” he cried, rashly laying himself open.

  “I have heard as much,” said the priest dryly. “But enough of thistalk,” he went on, his voice again vibrating. “You, George Anderson,seducer of these people from their king, look to yourself! Yourthreshold is red. As for this house”—and he looked around with slow andsolemn menace—“as for this house, it shall not see to-morrow’s sun!”

  Hitherto I had been silent, as became a mere new-come guest; but thiswas too much for me.

  “Ay, but it shall!” said I bluntly, stepping forward.

  La Garne looked at me with unaffected surprise and contempt.

  “And pray, sir, who may you be to speak so confidently?” he asked.

  “I am an officer of the king, Sir Abbé,” I answered, “and a messenger ofthe governor of New France, and a man of my word. Your quarrel here I donot very well understand, but I beg _you_ to understand that this houseis the house of my friends. I know you, Sir Abbé,—I have heard rumour ofyour work at Beaubassin, Baie Verte, and Gros Ile. I tell you, I willnot suffer you to lift your hand against this house!”

  “Truly, monsieur, you speak large,” sneered the priest. “But you may,perchance, have authority. I seem to have seen your face before. Yourname?”

  “Paul Grande,” said I, bowing.

  La Garne’s face changed. He looked at me curiously, and then, with asort of bitter tolerance, shrugged his shoulders.

  “You have been to Monsieur le Commandant Vergor, at Beauséjour?” heasked.

  I bowed.

  “And to Vaurin, at Piziquid?” he went on thoughtfully.

  I fancied that a shade of suspicion passed over the faces of my hosts;and Yvonne’s face paled slightly; but I replied:

  “I have just come from Piziquid.”

  “Your authority is sufficient, then, monsieur,” said he. “The messengerof the governor to Vaurin doubtless knows his business, and it isunnecessary for me to interfere.”

  I bowed my thanks, holding courtesy to be in place, since I had gainedmy point.

  “And I pardon your abruptness, Monsieur Grande,” continued the BlackAbbé. “We are both working for the king. We have no right to quarrelwhen we have such great work to do. I am sure I may accept your apologyfor your abruptness?” And he looked at me with an air of suggestion.

  I was puzzled at his changed demeanour, but I would not show myself at aloss. Still less would I apologize, or suffer any pretence offriendliness between himself and me.

  “I am sure you may,” said I pleasantly. And I think the reply a prudentone.

  Yvonne smiled—I just caught the smile; but the abbé turned on his heel.

  “I withdraw my admonition,” he said to De Lamourie smoothly, “and leaveyour case in the hands of this gentleman, your good friend. I wish you aswift conversion—or a long repentance.” And with a glance at me which Iliked not, but could by no means interpret, he was gone.

  The room grew straightway the brighter for his going.