“At the expense of doing wrong to our guest, who delivered our daughter from danger.”
“Danger! I tell you not danger, a misunderstanding, a misconstruction. What do you know of this stranger? Whither was he taking her? What cause have you for thinking you would have had her restored to you by his hands? I, for myself, I have only her good at heart. I pray you, M. Mercier, think of your leader who would deliver you from a papistical king. Is Bayard not one of those whom you call aristocrats and papists? This fellow, too, is one of the same stamp. If you will I can arrange as pretty a plot as you could wish, and the people, the people whom Leisler leads, will be free of one Romanist in disguise.” He watched his listener narrowly.
Papa Louis did not change expression, but sat absorbed in thought. “One does not send away a guest to follow him with disaster,” he replied, after a time.
“Guest! A guest perforce. Who asks you to bring disaster upon a guest? He is one no longer when he leaves your roof, and it is of the man Bayard of whom we chiefly speak. Well, you do not care to prove your friendship for your cause. You are not a very stanch champion, M. Mercier. Perhaps you, too, are a Jacobite, and are not without ambition to show yourself a partisan of these aristocrats. A man of your intellect might well expect to be admitted into what the adherents of Leisler call the court circle.”
“No, no, that is no ambition of mine!” cried Papa Louis, vehemently. “I assure you I am not of that party at all. I will consult with my friends, monsieur. I will go to Manhatte to-morrow.”
“And when does M. Verplanck depart?”
“He will not be strong enough for some days to come. There is nothing to be gained by haste, monsieur. I will consider what you have said, meanwhile remembering that you are no friend of the young man who has shared our attentions with you. Sit there and rest. For myself I have remained too long; I must go to my work. Without Gerard my hands are full.”
“I could go a step farther, I think,” returned François. “Why may I not sit outside as well as yon indolent churl? I’ll warrant he has not an idea in his head as he sits there like a blinking owl. Your shoulder again, M. Mercier, and I can creep along.”
As the two figures disappeared out of the door, from behind the curtains peeped Alaine’s face. She shook her finger at the two. “Plots, Papa Louis, plots. I will not have you mixed up in them, neither will I allow good M. Bayard to suffer; and as for you, you scheming monster, I am not sure what is bad enough for you. Go to Manhatte if you must, go to-morrow, Papa Louis, we can manage without you. Adieu!” And she lightly blew him a kiss from the ends of her fingers.
“To Manhatte!” cried Mère Michelle, when her husband announced his intention of an early start. “And for why? Politics? Many a better man has been ruined by them. For my part I advise you to remain at home and watch your garden, your fields, your family. It is here you are needed and not in Manhatte. I pray you do not mix yourself up in affairs. It is better to be the small, the undistinguished, so you are overlooked, otherwise place yourself in the way, at a turn of the wheel, lo! you are crushed.”