CHAPTER VIII
WHAT ROSE DID NOT LIKE
Eustache Boulle, the Governor's brother-in-law, had been not a littlesurprised when his sister was helped off the vessel at Tadoussac. Hegreeted her warmly.
"But I never believed you would come to this wild country," heexclaimed, with a half-mischievous smile. "I am afraid the Sieur has lethis hopes of the future run riot in his brain. He can see great thingswith that far gaze of his."
"But a good wife follows her husband. We have had a rather stormy andtiresome passage, but praised be the saints, we have at last reached ourhaven."
"I hope you will see some promise in it. We on the business side do notlook for pleasure alone."
"It is wild, but marvellously fine. The islands with their frowningrocks and glowing verdure, the points, and headlands, the great gulf andthe river are really majestic. And you--you are a man. Two years havemade a wondrous change. I wish our mother could see you. She hasfrightful dreams of your being captured by Indians."
He laughed at that.
"Are the Indians very fierce here?" she asked timidly.
"Some tribes are, the Hurons. And others are very easily managed if youcan keep fire-water away from them."
"Fire"--wonderingly.
"Rum or brandy. You will see strange sights. But you must not getfrightened. Now tell me about our parents."
The Sieur was quite angry when he heard some boats had been up theriver, and bartered firearms and ammunition for peltries. It was theirdesire to keep the white man's weapons away from the savages.
Pontgrave had left a bark for the Governor, and Eustache joined them asthey went journeying on to Quebec. It was new and strange to the youngwife, whose lines so far had been cast in civilized places. The wide,ever-changing river, the rough, unbroken country with here and there aclearing, where parties of hunters had encamped and left their rudestone fireplaces, the endless woods with high hills back of them, andseveral groups of Indians with a wigwam for shelter, that interested hervery much. Braves were spread out on the carpet of dried leaves, playingsome kind of game with short knives and smoking leisurely. Squawsgossiping and gesticulating with as much interest as their fairersisters, their attire new and strange, and papooses tumbling about. Theypassed great tangles of wild grapes that scented the air, here and therean island shimmering with the bloom of blueberries.
Then the great cliff of Quebec came in sight. Latterly it had taken onan aspect of decay that caused the Governor to frown. The courtyard waslittered with rubbish from a building that had actually fallen down, anda new one was being erected. And though some of the houses were quitecomfortable within, the exterior was very unattractive, from thedifferent materials, like patches put on to add warmth in winter.
The cannon rang out a salute, and the lilies of France floated in thebrilliant sunshine. Officers and men had formed a sort of cordon, andfrom the gallery several ladies looked down and waved handkerchiefs. TheHeberts, with their son and daughter, a few other women, a little abovethe peasant rank, had joined them and Madame Giffard, who still essayeda role of delicacy.
The Sieur took formal possession again in the name of the new GovernorGeneral, the Duke of Montmorency. Then they repaired to the littlechapel, where the priest held a service of thanksgiving for their safearrival.
The Recollets had chosen a site on the St. Charles river, some distancefrom the post, and had begun the erection of a church and convent, forheadquarters. Madame Champlain was pleased to hear this and held quite alengthy talk with Pere Jamay, who was glad to find the new wife took afervent interest in religion, for even among the French women he had notawakened the influence he had hoped for, in his enthusiasm.
Eustache began a tour of observation. Perched on a rock with a greathemlock tree back of her, he saw a small human being that he was quitesure was not an Indian girl. She was talking to something, and raisedher small forefinger to emphasize her words. What incantation was sheusing?
As he came nearer he saw it was a flock of pigeons. She had been feedingthem berries and grains of rye. They arched their glossy necks and cooedin answer. He watched in amaze, drawing nearer. What sprite of theforest was this?
Did she feel the influence that invaded her solitude? She glanced upwith wide startled eyes at the intruder, and looked at first as if shewould fly.
"Do not be afraid, I will not harm you," said a clear, reassuring voice."Are you charming the wild things of the forest? Your incantation was inFrench--do they understand the language?"
"They understand me."
There was a curious dignity in her reply.
"You are French, Mam'selle?"
"I came from France a long while ago, so long that I do not remember."
"Was it in another life? Are you human, or some forest nymph? For youare not out of childhood."
"I do not understand."
"But you must belong to some one----"
"No," she said proudly. "I have never really belonged to any one. M'sieuDestournier is my good friend, and miladi took me when the Dubrays wentto the fur country. But she has been ill, and she does not like me asshe used."
"But you must have a home----"
"I live at the post, mostly with Wanamee. Some days my lady sends forme. But I like out-of-doors, and the birds, and the blue sky, and thevoice of the falling waters that are always going on, and the great grayrocks, where I find mossy little caves with red bloom like tinypapooses, and the tall grasses that shake their heads so wisely, as ifthey knew secrets they would never tell. And the birds--even some of thelittle lizards with their bright black eyes. They are dainty, not likethe snakes that go twisting along."
"Are you not afraid of them?"
"I do not molest them," calmly.
"You should have been down at the post. The Governor's wife has come."
"Yes, I saw her. And I did not like her. But the Sieur was always kindto me. He used to show me journeys on the maps, and the great lakes hehas seen. He has been all over the world, I believe."
"Oh, no. But I think he would like to. Why do you not like Madame deChamplain?"
She studied him with a thoughtful gaze.
"M'sieu Ralph told me when he went to France he was betrothed to apretty little French girl, and that some day he would bring her here tobe his wife. I was glad of the little girl. I like Marie Gaudrion, butshe has to care for the babies and--she does not understand why I lovethe woods and the rocks. And I thought this other little _girl_----"
She was so naive that he smiled, but it was not the smile to hurt one.
"She was a little girl then. But every one grows. Some day you will be awoman."
"No, I will not. I shall stay this way," and she patted the grounddecisively with her small foot, the moccasin being little more than asandal, and showed the high arch and shapely ankle that dimpled with themotion.
"I am afraid you cannot. But I think you will like Madame when you knowher. I am her brother, though I have not seen her for over two years."
She studied him attentively. The birds began to grow restless andcircled about her as if to warn off the intruder. Then she suddenlylistened. There was a familiar step climbing the rock.
M'sieu Destournier parted the hemlock branches.
"I thought I should find you here. Why did you run away? Ah, M. Boulle,"but the older man frowned a little.
"She left the company because my sister was grown up and not the littlegirl she imagined. Is she a product of the forest? Her very ignorance ischarming."
"I am not ignorant!" she returned. "I can read a page in Latin, and thatmiladi cannot do."
"She is a curious child," explained Destournier, "but a sweet and noblenature, and innocent is the better word for it. The birds all know her,and she has a tame doe that follows her about, except that it will notventure inside the palisade. I'm not sure but she could charm a wolf."
"The Loup Garou," laughed the younger man. "I think nothing would dareharm her. But I should like my sister to see her. Oh, I am
sure you willlike her, even if she is a woman grown."
"Come," said Destournier, holding out his hand.
The pigeons had circled wider and wider, and were now purplish shadowsagainst the serene blue. Rose sprang up and clasped Destournier's hand.But she was silent as they took their way down.
"Whatever bewitched my august brother-in-law about this place I cannotsee. Except that the new fort will sweep the river and render the townimpregnable from that side. It will be the key of the North. ButMontreal will be a finer town at much less cost."
Rose was fain to refuse at the last moment, but M'sieu Ralph persuaded.The few women of any note were gathered in the room miladi had firstoccupied. Rose looked curiously at the daughter of M. Hebert--she was somuch taller than she used to be, and her hair was put up on her headwith a big comb.
"Thou art a sweet child," said Madame de Champlain. "And whose daughtermay she be?"
It was an awkward question. Destournier flushed unconsciously.
"She is the Rose of Quebec," he made answer, with a smile. "Her parentswere dead before she came here."
"Ah, I remember hearing the Governor speak of her, and learned thatthere were so few real citizens in Quebec who were to grow up with thetown as their birthright. It is but a dreary-looking place, yet the wildriver, the great gulf, the magnificent forests give one a sense ofgrandeur, yet loneliness. And my husband says it is the same hundreds ofmiles to the westward; that there are lakes like oceans in themselves.And such furs! All Paris is wild with the beauty of them. Yet they liearound here as if of no value."
"You would find that the traders appraise them pretty well," and heraised his brows a trifle, while a rather amused expression played abouthis eyes.
"Is there always such a turmoil of trade?"
"Oh, no. The traders scatter before mid-autumn. The cold weather sets inand the snow and ice are our companions. The small streams freeze up.But the Sieur has written of all these things in his book."
He looked inquiringly at her for a touch of enthusiasm, but her sweetface was placid.
"Monsieur my husband desired that I should be educated in his religionin the convent. We do not take up worldly matters, that is notconsidered becoming to girls and women. We think more of the souls thatmay be saved from perdition. The men go ahead to discover, the priestscome to teach these ignorant savages that they have souls that must bereturned to God, or suffer eternally."
There spoke the devotee. Destournier wondered a little how the Sieur hadcome to choose a devote for a wife. For he was a born explorer, with abody and a will of such strength that present defeat only spurred himon. But where was there a woman to match him, to add to his courage andresolve! Perhaps men did not need such women. Destournier was not anenthusiast in religious matters. He had been here long enough tounderstand the hold their almost childish superstitions had on theIndians, their dull and brutish lack of any high motive, their brutaland barbarous customs. They were ready to be baptized a dozen times overjust as they would use any of their own charms, or for the gain of sometrifle.
Madame seemed to study the frank face of the little girl. How beautifulher eyes were; her eager, intelligent, spirited face; the fine skin thatwas neither light nor dark, and withstood sun and wind alike, and lostnone of its attractive tints. But she was so different from the littlegirls sent to the nuns for training. They never looked up at you withthese wide-open eyes that seemed to question you, to weigh you.
"There is no convent here where you can be taught?" addressing herselfto the child.
"The fathers are building one. But it is only for the men. The womencook and learn to dress deerskins until they are like velvet. They mustmake the clothing, for not a great deal comes from France. And it wouldonly do for ladies like you and Madame Giffard."
"But there must be some education, some training, some prayers," and thelady looked rather helpless.
She was very sweet and beautiful in her soft silken dress of gray, thatwas flowered in the same color, and trimmed with fur and velvet. Fromher belt depended a chain of carved ivory beads and a crucifix, fromanother chain a small oval looking-glass in a silver frame. Her flaringcollar of lace and the stomacher were worked in pearls. Many Parisianshad them sewn with jewels.
"I can read French very well," said Rose, after a pause. "And someLatin."
"Oh, the prayers, and some of the old hymns----"
"No, it isn't prayers exactly--except to their gods. There are so manygods. Jove was the great one."
"Oh, my child, this is heresy. There is but one God and the Holy Virgin,and the saints to whom you can make invocation."
"Well, then I think you have a number of gods. Do you pray to them all?And what do you pray for?"
"For the wicked world to be converted to God, for them to love Him, andserve Him."
"And how do they serve Him?" inquired the child. "If He is the great GodFather Jamay teaches He can do everything, have everything. It is allHis. Then why does He not keep people well, so they can work, and notblight the crops with fierce storms. Sometimes great fields of maize areswept down. And the little children die; the Indians kill each other,and at times the white men who serve them."
"Oh, child, you do not understand. There must be convents in this newworld for the training of girls. They must be taught to pray that God'swill may be done, not their own."
"How would I know it was God's will?" asked the irreverent child,decisively, yet with a certain sweetness.
"The good Father would tell you."
"How would he know?"
"He lives a holy life in communion with God."
"What is the convent like?" suddenly changing her thoughts.
"It is a large house full of little ones, the sisters' cells, thenovices' cells----"
"There are some at the post. They put criminals in them. They are filthyand dark," with a kind of protesting vehemence.
"These are clean, because they are whitewashed, and you scrub the floortwice a week. There is a little pallet on which you sleep, a_prie-dieu_----"
"What is that?" interrupted the child.
"A little altar, with a stone step on which you kneel. And a crucifix atthe top, a book of prayer and invocation. Many of the sisters pray anhour at midnight. All pray an hour in the morning, then breakfast andthe chapel for another hour, with prayers and singing. After that theclasses. The little girls are taught the catechism and manners, if theyare to go out in the world, sewing and embroidery. At noon prayers againand a little lunch, then work out of doors for an hour, and runningabout for exercise, catechising again, singing, supper and a chapelhour, and then to bed. But the nuns spend the evening in prayer, so dothe devout."
"Madame, I shall never go in a convent, if the Fathers build one forgirls. I like the big out-of-doors. And if God made the world He made itfor some purpose, that people should go out and enjoy it. I like thewilderness, the great blue sky, the sun and the stars at night, thetrees and the river, and the birds and the deer and the beautiful wildgeese, as they sail in great flocks. If I was shut up in a cell I shouldbeat my head against the stones until it was a jelly, and then I shouldbe dead."
Madame de Champlain looked at the child in amaze. In her decorous lifeshe had known nothing like it.
"And I wish there were no women. I do not like women any more. Men arebetter because they live out of doors and do not pray so much. Exceptthe priests. And they are dirty."
Then she turned away and went out on the gallery, with a curiouslyswelling heart. Oh, why was not Marie Gaudrion different? What madepeople so unlike. If there was some one----
"Ha, little maid, where are you running to so fast?" exclaimed alaughing voice. "Have you seen my sister yet?"
Eustache Boulle caught her arm, but she shook him off, and stood upsquarely, facing him. What vigor and resolution there was in her smallbewitching face.
"Hi, hi! thou art a plucky little _fille_, ready for a quarrel by thelooks of thy flashing eyes. What have I done to thee, that thou shouldstshake m
e off as a viper?"
"Nothing! I am not to be handled roughly. I am going my way, and I thinkit will not interfere with thine."
A pleasant smile crossed his face which made him really attractive, andhalf disarmed her fierceness.
"My way is set in no special lines until I return to Tadoussac. Hastthou seen my sister?"
She nodded.
"Every one loves her. She is as good as she is beautiful. And she willcharm thee," in a triumphant tone, gathering that the interview had notalready done this.
"I am not to be charmed in that fashion. Yes, she is beautiful, but shewould like me to be put in a convent. And I would throw myself in theriver first."
"There are no convents, little one. And but few people to put into them.In a new country it is best that they marry and have families. Whenthere are too many women then convents play a useful part."
"Let me pass," she cried disdainfully, but not trying to push aside.
"Tell me where you go!"
"To Mere Gaudrion's to see that soft-headed Marie. I wish she had someideas, but she is good and cheerful, and does as she is told."
"You are not very complimentary to your friend."
"But if I said she had a bad temper, and told what was not true, andslapped her little brothers and sisters, that would be a falsehood. Andif I said she understood the song of the birds and the sough of the windamong the trees, and the running, tumbling little streams that arealways saying 'oh! let me get to the gulf as soon as possible, for Iwant to see what a great ocean is like,' it would not be true either. Ilike Marie," calmly.
"Thou art a curious little casuist. I am glad you like her. It showsthat you are human. There are strange creatures in the woods and wildsof this new world."
"There is the Loup Garou, but I have not seen him. He gets changed froma man to a fierce dog, and if you kill the dog, the man dies. There isthe Windigo, and the old medicine woman can call strange things out of asick person who has been bewitched, and then he gets well. But M.Destournier laughs at these stories."
The young man had been backing slowly toward the steps and she hadfollowed without taking note.
Now he said--"Let me help you down."
"I am not lame, M'sieu, neither am I blind."
"Will you take me to see Marie Gaudrion?"
"You would laugh at her, I see it in your eyes."
"Are my eyes such telltales?"
He had not the placid fairness of his sister, and his chestnut haircurled about his temples. His cheeks were red enough for a girl.
"Why should you want to see her?"
"I want to see all there is in Quebec. I want to know how the colonyprogresses. I may put it in a book."
"Like the Governor. But you could not make maps out of people," with anair of triumph.
"I'm not so sure. See here."
He drew from his pocket a roll and held one of the leaves before hereyes.
"Oh, that is old Temekwisa sitting out by the hut. And, M'sieu, he lookshalf drunken, as he nearly always is. And that is Jacques Barbeaubreaking stone. Why, it is wonderful. And who else have you?"
There were several Indians in a powwow around the fire, there was awoman with a papoose on her back, and a few partly done.
"And the Sieur--and your sister?" eagerly.
"I have tried dozens of times and cannot please myself. The Indians haveabout the same salient points, and that lack of expression when they aretranquil. They are easy to do. And I can sometimes catch the fierceanger. At home I would have a teacher. Here I have to go by myself, try,and tear up. Then I am busy with many other things."
Her resentment had mostly subsided. His gift, if it could be calledthat, fascinated her. She had reproduced wonderful pictures in herbrain, but to do them with her hand would be marvellous, like the Sieurwriting his books.
They had reached the garden of the Gaudrions. Pierre was employedregularly now and was studying the plans of the new fort. Marie wasseated on the grass, cutting leather fringe for garments and leggings.You could use up otherwise useless bits that way. The Mere was fartherdown pulling weeds from the carrot bed, and directing the labors of twochildren, at whom she shook a switch now and then. Marie had a baby oneach side of her, tumbling about in the grass.
She looked up and nodded, while a heavy sort of smile settled about herlips, the upper one protruding a little, on account of two prominentteeth. Eustache had seen the peasant type at home, the low forehead, thedeep-set eyes, the short nose, flattened at the base, the wide mouth andrather broad, unmeaning countenance, the type of women who bear burthenswithout complaining and do not resent when they are beaten. Marie had anabundance of blue-black hair, a clear skin, and a soft color in hercheeks.
Boulle glanced from one to the other, the lithe figure, the spiritedface, the eyes that could flash and soften and sparkle with mirth almostin a minute, it seemed. What a distance lay between them.
"Marie, this is"--then Rose paused and flushed, and glanced at herunbidden companion.
"I am Eustache Boulle and my sister is the wife of the Governor deChamplain. And though I have been up and down the river I have neverreally visited Quebec before."
Marie nodded and went on cutting fringe.
"And he has done pictures--Temekwisa, that you would know in a minute.He did them with a pencil. Show them to her," she ordered, in a prettyperemptory manner, as with a graceful gesture of the hand she invitedhim to be seated on the grass, deftly rolling one baby over, who staredan instant, and then fell to sucking his fist.
Marie's heavy face lighted up with a kind of cheerful surprise.
"Why did you not go up and see them come in? And after the service ofthanks, almost everybody went to see our dear Sieur's wife. She isbeautiful in the face and wears a silken gown, and a little cap so fineyou can see her hair through it. And she has small hands that look likesnow, but not many rings, like Madame Giffard."
"_Ma mere_ went to the prayers, but we could not both go. I saw the lineof boats and heard the salute. And your sister will live here with theGovernor?"
Eustache wanted to laugh, but commanded his countenance.
"Yes, though 'tis a dreary place to live in after gay France. I long togo back."
"They are to build a new fort. My father will work on it, and mybrother, Pierre. And he wonders that you do not come oftener, Rose."
"There has not been a moonlight in a long while. I cannot come in thedark. And now he wants his own way in all the plans and I like mine. Hehas grown so big he is not amusing any more."
"But he likes you just as well," the girl said naively.
Eustache glanced. Rose did not change color at this frank admission.
Then the gun boomed out to announce the day's work for the governmentwas over.
Rose sprang up. "It will soon be supper time," she said.
"Stay and have it with us. There are some cold roasted pigeons, withspiced gravy turned over them. You shall have a whole one."
"You are very good, Marie, but there are so many men about who have beendrinking too much, that M. Destournier would read me a long lecture."
"But Pierre would walk up with thee."
Eustache had gathered up his pictures. They had only been an excuse toprolong his interview with Rose.
"I will see that no harm comes to your friend. Adieu, Mam'selle," and hebowed politely, at which Marie only stared.
"We are very good friends, are we not?" as he was parting with thepretty child.
"But I might not like you to-morrow," archly.
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