The Lily and the Cross Part 14

The chief Acadian understood this as well by the signs with which it was accompanied as from the words, and he explained it to his followers. He then informed Zac that they would be quiet; whereupon Terry went forward and shook hands with each and all of them. "_Commy porty-voo? Bon jure, moosoo_," said he; to which the Acadians, however, made no response. They did indeed allow him to shake their hands; but they would not say anything, and evidently regarded him as a perjured villain, and traitor to their cause.

"Biler!" roared Zac. "Whar are you, you young cuss of life?"

Upon this the young cuss of life slowly emerged from the forecastle, holding a cold potato in his hand. The scene on deck made no impression on him, but he walked aft with his eyes fixed on Zac.

"Stand there!" commanded Zac; and Biler stood.

"Feller seamen and comrades at arms," said Zac, stretching out his arm in the oratorical fas.h.i.+on which he had seen used at town meetings "to hum." "This is a gellorious day for his great and gracious majesty King George, whose loyal subjects we air, as we have proved by this rescoo of his s.h.i.+p from the hands of the Philistines. It air all very well for the king to send out his red-coats; but I tell you what it is, I ain't seen a red-coat that lives that's equal to the natyve pro-vincial. Who air the ones that doos the best fightin' out here? The pro-vincials! Who air the men that's druv the wild and bloodthusty Injin back to his natyve woods? The pro-vincial! And who air the men that's goin' to settle the business of Moosoo, an' make America too hot to hold him an' his'n? The red-coats? Nay; but rayther the pro-vincials, the men that's fit the catamounts, an'

bars, an' Injins, an' turned the waste an' howlin' wilderness into a gardin', an' made the desert blossom like a rose. So, I say, Hooray for the pro-vincials!"

At this Zac removed his hat. Terry did the same; so did Jericho.

Biler had none to remove, but he raised his potato in the air. Zac led off--"Hip, hip, hip, h-o-o-o-r-a-a-a-y!"

"Arrah, captain, darlint, an' while yo's about it, sure ye won't be forgettin' ould Ireland," cried Terry, as the ringing cheers died away over the waters.

"Certingly," said Zac. "Course. Here goes!"

And three cheers in the same fas.h.i.+on followed for Terry's native land.

"Tare an' ages!" cried Terry; "an' while we're about it, sure an'

we's ought to give three chairs for Africa, in honor of Jericho."

"Hooray!" cried Zac. "Here goes!" And three cheers followed for Africa. Whether Jericho knew much about Africa, may be a question; but he understood at least that this honor was offered to himself, and accepted it accordingly. It almost overwhelmed him. A wild chuckle of spasmodic delight burst from him, which threatened to end in a convulsion. And though he rallied from this, yet he was quite demoralized, and it was a long time before he settled down into that sedate old darky which was his normal condition.

And now Zac waited. Finding himself in command of his own schooner again, he felt more able to act in case of necessity. He was so far out from the sh.o.r.e that he was easily able to guard against the unexpected arrival of any boat. By day he lay at anchor; but when night came the Acadians were sent below, the anchor was raised, and the schooner cruised about the bay. The strong tides and currents caused a little trouble, but Zac soon got the run of them, at least in a general way, and several nights were thus pa.s.sed. At length he began to grow impatient, and felt quite at a loss what to do. He was half inclined to send one of the Acadians ash.o.r.e with a message, but as yet concluded to wait a little longer.

The Acadians, whether from fear or policy, did as they promised, and kept quiet. They kept by themselves always, and refused to accept the advances of Terry, though they were frequently made. They all appeared listless and dejected, and the smiles, the laughter, and the singing which had characterized their first days on board had all pa.s.sed away, and given place to low, murmured conversation or silence.

At length, one evening at about six o'clock, Zac saw a solitary boat coming from the sh.o.r.e. It was a long way off when he first saw it, and it seemed to be coming towards the schooner. The tide was unfavorable, so that the progress was quite slow; but its course lay steadily towards him, and Zac, who watched it intently, was turning over in his mind his best plan of action. It did not seem large enough to contain any very formidable force; but Zac thought best to take every precaution, and so sent all the Acadians below, while Terry and Jericho stood ready for action.

The time pa.s.sed away, and the boat drew steadily nearer. At length it came near enough for Zac to see that it was rowed by two men, which sight was most welcome, since it a.s.sured him that no danger was to be apprehended. As he watched it, the boat drew nearer and nearer. He said nothing, but waited for them to speak first. He could see that both of the men were unarmed.

At last the boat touched the schooner's side. One of the men leaped on board, securing the boat, and the other followed immediately. They were both dressed like all the Acadians, but the second boatman had a slouched hat, which concealed his face. Zac, who carelessly regarded him, noticed that he was a smooth-faced boy, while the first boatman was a grizzled old man.

Both of these looked around, and seemed surprised. At length the boy advanced towards Zac.

"Capitaine," said this boy, "what ees dees? You no seem a preesonaire. You haf a gun. Air you free?"

At the sound of this voice Zac started back a step or two in utter amazement. Could it be possible? Yet that voice could not belong to any other. It must be. And even as he stood thus bewildered, the boy raised his hat with a shy smile, with which there was also much sadness mingled, and revealed the face of the little Margot.

"Wal," exclaimed Zac, "this doos beat creation!"

Zac then caught both her hands, and held them in a tight grip, and for a few moments could not speak.

"I do feel good, little one," said he, in a tremulous voice. "This here's what I ben a waitin' for--to see you--an' you only--though I skurse dared to hope it. At any rate, I did hope and feel that you wouldn't go off without a word, and no more you heven't; an' I feel so happy that I could cry."

It was not exaggerated. Honest Zac was unused to such emotions, and hardly understood them. His eyes were moist as he looked upon Margot, and she saw that his simple confession was true. Her own emotion was as great as his. Tears started to her own eyes, and in her sadness she leaned on his arm and wept. Whereupon Zac's tears fell in spite of him, and he began to call himself a darned fool, and her a dear little pet; till the scolding of himself and the soothing of Margot became so hopelessly intermingled that he called her a darned old pet, and himself a dear little fool. Whereupon Margot burst into a laugh, dashed her tears away, and started off from Zac's grasp.

And now Margot proceeded to tell Zac the reason of her journey. From her he learned for the first time the events that had taken place on sh.o.r.e. First, she informed him that Claude was in confinement, and that Cazeneau intended to take him or send him to Louisbourg; that Cazeneau himself was bitterly hostile to him. She informed him that Laborde was dead; that Mimi was in terrible distress, and in mortal terror of Cazeneau; and finally, that she was to be taken to Louisbourg. All this filled Zac with concern and apprehension. She informed Zac that she and her mistress were to be taken away early on the following morning, and that she had slipped off thus in disguise, with the consent of her mistress, to let him know the danger of his friend; for Claude was to remain in Grand Pre for some time longer, and her mistress thought that after Cazeneau had departed, it might be possible to do something to save him.

This occupied some time, and Zac interrupted her with many questions.

At length, having told her story, Margot turned away. This startled Zac.

"What!" said he; "you're not a goin' to leave me!" and poor Zac's voice was like a wail of despair.

"Why, what ees eet posseeble to do? I moos go to ma maitresse."

"But-but what'll become of me?" mourned Zac. "I may never see you again."

Margot sighed. "I moos go to ma maitresse," she murmured.

"O, don't! don't now!" cried Zac. "She ain't half as fond of you as me. She can take care of herself. The priest'll watch over her. O, don't go, don't! I declar I feel like droundin' myself at the bare idee."

Zac, upon this, seized her hand, and begged, and coaxed, and prayed her to stay; till poor little Margot began to cry bitterly, and could only plead in broken tones her love for her dear mistress, who was in such danger, and how base it would be to desert her at such a time.

"Wal, wal--would you--would you come with me if--if it warn't for her?" mourned Zac.

Margot looked up at his face with a slight smile s.h.i.+ning through her tears, which seemed to rea.s.sure poor Zac.

"We sall meet again," said Margot, in a more cheerful voice.

Zac shook his head disconsolately.

"And so, adieu," said Margot, in a low voice.

Zac said nothing, but with an expression of despair he took her in his arms, kissed her, and then turned away and wept.

Margot cried bitterly, and got into the boat. The old Acadian followed. The boat rowed away.

"_Adieu, et au revoir, cher Zac_," said Margot, calling back and waving her hat.

"Goo-oo-d by-ye," said Zac, in a wail of despair.

For hours Zac stood looking after the boat in perfect silence. At last he turned away, gulping down a sigh.

"Darned ef I know what on airth's the matter with me," he murmured.

CHAPTER XIV.

MANOEUVRES OF ZAC.

Zac slept but little that night. There were two causes for wakefulness. The first was Margot, who had wrought such mischief with his thoughts and feelings that he did not know what was the matter with him. The second cause was the condition of Claude.

Gradually Margot's image faded away, and he began to turn his thoughts towards the problem of delivering Claude. How was that to be done?