Chapter II
The Black Abbe
When first I saw that smile on the Black Abbe's face, and realized whathad befallen us, I came nigh to bursting with rage, and was on thepoint of telling my captor some truths to make his ears tingle. Butwhen I heard the order to stand Marc up against a tree my veins for aninstant turned to ice. Many men--and some women, too, God help me, Ithen being bound and gagged,--had I seen thus stood up against a tree,and never but for one end. I could not believe that such an end wascontemplated now, and that by a priest of the Church, however unworthyof his office! But I checked my tongue and spoke the Abbe fair.
"It is quite plain to me, Monsieur," said I, quietly, "that my son andI are the victims of some serious mistake, for which you will, I amsure, feel constrained to ask our pardon presently. I await yourexplanations."
La Garne, still smiling, looked me over slowly. Never before had Iseen him face to face, though he had more than once traversed my lineof vision. I had known the tireless figure, as tall, almost, as Marchimself, stoop-shouldered, but robust, now moving swiftly as ifpropelled by an energy irresistible, now languid with an affectation ofindolence. But the face--I hated the possessor of it with a personalhate the moment my eyes fell upon that face. Strong and inflexible wasthe gaunt, broad, and thin jaw, cruel and cunning the high, pinchedforehead and narrow-set, palely glinting eyes. The nose, inparticular, greatly offended me, being very long, and thick at the end."I'll tweak it for him, one fine day," says I to myself, as I boiledunder his steady smile.
"There is no mistake, Monsieur de Briart, believe me!" he said, stillsmiling.
There could be no more fair words, of course, after that avowal.
"Then, Sir Priest," said I, coldly, "you are both a madman and a scurvyrogue, and you shall yet be on your knees to me for this outrage. Youwill see then the nature of your mistake, I give you my word."
The priest's smile took on something of the complexion of a snarl.
"Don't be alarmed, Monsieur de Briart," said he. "You are quite safe,because I know you for a good servant to France; and for your latedisrespect to Holy Church, in my person, while in talk with yourpestilent son, these bonds may be a wholesome and sufficient lesson toyou!"
"You shall have a lesson sufficient rather than wholesome, I promiseyou!" said I.
"But as for this fellow," went on the Abbe, without noticing myinterruption, "he is a spy. You understand how spies fare, Monsieur!"And a malignant light made his eyes appear like two points of steelbeneath the ambush of his ragged brows.
I saw Marc's lean face flush thickly under the gross accusation.
"It is a lie, you frocked hound!" he cried, careless of the instantperil in which he stood.
But the Black Abbe never looked at him.
"I wish you joy of your son, a very good Englishman, Monsieur, and now,I fear, not long for this world," said he, in a tone of high civility."He has long been fouling with his slanders the names of those whom heshould reverence, and persuading the people to the English. But now,after patiently waiting, I have proofs. His treachery shall hang him!"
For a moment the dear lad's peril froze my senses, so that it was butdimly I heard his voice, ringing with indignation as he hurled back thecharge upon the lying lips that made it.
"If the home of lies be anywhere out of Hell, it is in your malignantmouth, you shame of the Church," he cried in defiance. "There can beno proof that I am a spy, even as there can be no proof that you areother than a false-tongued assassin, defiling your sacred office."
It was the galling defiance of a savage warrior at the stake, and evenin my fear my heart felt proud of it. The priest was not galled,however, by these penetrating insults.
"As for the proofs," said he, softly, never looking at Marc, butkeeping his eyes on my face, "Monsieur de Ramezay shall judge whetherthey be proofs or not. If he say they are not, I am content."
At a sign, a mere turn of his head it seemed to me, the Indians loosedMarc's feet to lead him away.
"Farewell, Father," said he, in a firm voice, and turned upon me a lookof unshakable courage.
"Be of good heart, son," I cried to him. "I will be there, and thisdevil shall be balked!"
"You, Monsieur," said the priest, still smiling, "will remain here forthe present. To-night I will send a villager to loose your bonds.Then, by all means, come over and see Monsieur de Ramezay at Chignecto.I may not be there then myself, but this business of the spy will havebeen settled, for the commander does not waste time in such smallmatters!"
He turned away to follow his painted band, and I, shaking in myimpotent rage and fear, called after him:--
"As God lives and is my witness, if the lad comes to any harm, thesehands will visit it upon you an hundredfold, till you scream fordeath's mercy!"
But the Black Abbe moved off as if he heard no word, and left me atwisted heap upon the turf, gnawing fiercely at the tough deer-hide ofmy bonds.
The Forge in the Forest Page 3