Rose A Charlitte Part 19

"We are arrived at last," said Agapit, pausing on a rustic bridge that spanned the road; "and down there," he went on, in a choking voice, "is where the bones of my countrymen lie."

Vesper leaned over the railing. What a sluggish, silent, stealthy river!

He could perceive no flow in its reluctant waters. A few willows, natives, not French ones, swayed above it, and close to its edge grew the tall gra.s.ses, rustling and whispering together as if imparting guilty secrets concerning the waters below.

"Which way does it go?" murmured Vesper; but Agapit did not hear him, for he was eagerly muttering: "A hateful river,--I never see a bird drink from it, there are no fishes in it, the lilies will not grow here, and the children fall in and are drowned; and, though it has often been sounded, they can find no bottom to it."

Vesper stared below in silence, only making an involuntary movement when his companion's cap fell off and struck the face of the dull black mirror presented to them.

"Let it go," exclaimed Agapit, with a shudder. "Poor as I am, I would not wear it now. It is tainted," and flinging back the dark locks from his forehead, he turned his face towards the sh.o.r.e.

"No, I will talk no more about the Acadiens," he said, when Vesper tried to get him to enter upon his favorite theme, "for, though you are polite, I fear I shall weary you; we will speak of other things."

The night was a perfect one, and for an hour the two young men walked up and down the quiet road before the inn, talking at first of the fis.h.i.+ng that was over, and the hunting that would in a few weeks begin.

Vesper would have enjoyed seeking big game in the backwoods, if his health had permitted, and he listened with suppressed eagerness to Agapit's account of a moose hunt. The world of sport disposed of, their conversation drifted to literature, to science and art in general,--to women and love affairs, and Agapit rambled on excitedly and delightedly, while Vesper, contenting himself with the briefest of rejoinders, extracted an acute and amused interest from the entirely novel and out-of-the-way opinions presented to him.

"Ah! but I enjoy this," said Agapit, at last; "it is the fault of my countrymen that they do not read enough and study,--their sole fault. I meet with so few who will discuss, yet I must not detain you. Come in, come in, and I will give you my 'Richard.' Begin not to read him to-night, for you could not sleep. I believe," and he raised his brown, flushed face to the stars above, "that he has done justice to the Acadien people; but remember, we do not complain now. We are faithful to our sovereign and to our country,--as faithful as you are to your Union.

The smart of the past is over. We ask only that the world may believe that the Acadiens were loyal and consistent, and that we do not wish for reparation from England except, perhaps--" and he hesitated and looked down at the shabby sleeve of his coat, while tears filled his eyes.

"_Mon Dieu!_ I will not speak of the pitiful economies that I am obliged to practise to educate myself. And there are other young men more poor.

If the colonial government would give us some help, I would go to college; for now I hesitate lest I should save my money for my family.

If the good lands that were taken from us were now ours, we should be rich--"

Vesper liked the young Acadien best in his quiet moods. "Don't worry,"

he said, consolingly; "something will turn up. Get me that book, will you?"

Vesper paused for an instant when he entered his room. On a table by his bed was placed a tray, covered by a napkin. Lifting the napkin, he discovered a wing of cold chicken with jelly, thin slices of bread and b.u.t.ter, and a covered pitcher of chocolate.

He poured himself out a cup of the chocolate, and murmuring, "Here's to the Lady of the Sleeping Water Inn," seized one of the two volumes that Agapit had given him, and, throwing himself into an easy chair, began to read.

One by one the hours slipped away, but he did not move in his chair, except to put out a hand at regular intervals and turn a leaf. Shortly before daybreak a chill wind blew up the Bay, and came floating in the window. He threw down the book, rose slowly to his feet, and looked about him in a dreamy way. He had been transported to a previous century and to another atmosphere than this peaceful one.

He s.h.i.+vered sensitively, and, going to the window, closed it, and stood gazing at the faint flush in the sky. "O G.o.d! it is true," he muttered, drearily, "we are sent into this world to enact h.e.l.l. Goethe understood that. And what a h.e.l.l of long years was enacted on these sh.o.r.es!"

"The devils," he went on, in youthful, generous indignation; "they had no pity, not even after years of suffering on the part of their victims."

His eyes smarted, his head ached. He put his hand to his eyes, and, when it came away wet, he curled his lip. He had not shed tears since he was a boy.

Then he threw himself on his bed, and thoughts of his father mingled with those of the Acadiens. An invincible melancholy took possession of him, and burying his face in his arms, he lay for a long time with his whole frame quivering in emotion.

CHAPTER XIII.

AN ILLUMINATION.

"Sait-on ou l'on va?"

"What a sleeper, what a lover of his bed!" exclaimed Agapit, the next morning, as he rapped vigorously on Vesper's door. "Is he never going to rise?"

"What do you want?" said a voice from within.

"I, Agapit, latest and warmest of your friends, apologize for disturbing you, but am forced to ask a question."

"Come in; the door is not locked."

Agapit thrust his head in. "Did you sit late reading my books?"

Vesper lifted his closely cropped curly head from the pillow. "Yes."

"And did not your heart stir with pity for the unfortunate Acadiens?"

"I found the history interesting."

"I wept over it at my first reading,--I gnashed my teeth; but come,--will you not go to the picnic with us? All the Bay is going, as the two former days of it were dull."

"I had forgotten it. Does my mother wish to go?"

"Madame, your mother, is already prepared. See from your window, she talks to the mail-driver, who never tires of her adorable French. Do you know, this morning he came herding down the road three shy children, who were triplets. She was charmed, having never seen more than twins."

Vesper raised himself on his elbow and glanced through the window at Monsieur de la Rive, who, with his bright wings folded close to his sides, was cheeping voluble remarks to Mrs. Nimmo.

"All right, I will go," he said.

Agapit hurried down-stairs, and Vesper began to dress himself in a leisurely way, stopping frequently to go to the window and gaze dreamily out at the Bay.

Soon Rose came to the kitchen door to feed her hens. She looked so lovely, as she stood with her resplendent head in a blaze of sunlight, that Vesper's fingers paused in the act of fastening his necktie, and he stood still to watch her.

Presently the mail-driver went streaking down the road in fiery flight, and Mrs. Nimmo, seeing Rose alone, came tripping towards her. To her son, who understood her perfectly, there were visible in Mrs. Nimmo's manner some sure and certain signs of an inward disturbance. Rose, however, perceived nothing, and continued feeding her hens with her usual grace and composure.

"Are you not going to the picnic?" asked Mrs. Nimmo, and her eye ran over the simple cotton gown that Rose always wore in the morning.

"Yes, madame, but first I do my work."

"You will be glad to see your friends there,--and your family?"

"Ah, yes, madame,--it is such a pleasure."

"I should like to see your sister, Perside."

"I will present her, madame; she will be honored."

"And it is she that the blacksmith is going to marry? Do you know," and Mrs. Nimmo laughed tremulously, "I have been thinking all the time that it was you."

"Now I get at the cause of your discontent," soliloquized Vesper, above, "my poor little mother."

Rose surveyed her companion in astonishment: "I thought all the Bay knew."