Arthur Stanhope still lingered at St. John's, and every day increased his reluctance to depart from it. Happy in the society of Luciè, he could not resolve to quit her till the hopes, which her smiles again encouraged, had received her explicit sanction or rebuke. He felt too, that honor required of him an avowal of the sentiments which he had not attempted to disguise; he, therefore, sought the earliest opportunity to reveal them, and with grateful pleasure he received from her, a blushing confession, that his affection had been long reciprocated. His happiness, however, was slightly diminished by an injunction of secresy which she imposed on him; though he found it difficult to object against the motives which induced her to urge the request. Luciè believed their attachment was already discovered; but she had no doubt that an open disclosure would occasion a prohibition from her guardian, who, during her minority, had a right to restrain her choice. She was reluctant to act in open defiance to his commands; and she also resolved never to sacrifice her happiness to his ambitious schemes. It had long been a favorite object with La Tour, to unite her to his nephew, De Valette, whose rank and expectations would have rendered an alliance equal, and, in many respects, advantageous. Mad. de la Tour also, favored the connexion; and, though Luciè had invariably discouraged their wishes, her aversion was considered as mere girlish caprice or coquetry, which would eventually yield to their solicitations and advice. De Valette's religion was the only obstacle which Mad. la Tour was willing to admit, and he possessed so many desirable qualifications, she was ready to pass that over, as a matter of minor importance. Both, she alleged, might enjoy their own opinions; and, even in so close a connexion, perfect union of religious sentiment was not essential to happiness. Luciè thought otherwise; she had been educated a protestant, and, with many of the prejudices which the persecuted Hugonots of that period could scarcely fail of cherishing towards a church which had sought to crush them by its perfidy and oppression. These feelings, alone, would have induced her to persist in a refusal; but, independently of them, she was convinced that it would never be in her power to return the affection of De Valette, with that fervor and exclusiveness which so sacred a bond demanded.
From her first acquaintance with Arthur Stanhope, Luciè had placed, perhaps, an imprudent value on his society and attentions; and when compelled during his absence to quit the scenes of their daily and happy intercourse, in haste and affliction, and without even a parting expression of kindness and regret, she felt, for a time, that her sun of happiness was shrouded in perpetual clouds. Romantic as this attachment seemed, it stood the test of time and absence, lingered in the recesses of her heart through every change of scene, and brightened the darkest shades of doubt, and difficulty, and disappointment. Hitherto, her firmness of mind and principle had enabled her to resist the wishes of her aunt, and the remonstrances of La Tour; but their importunity had, of late, increased, and evidently from an apprehension, that the undisguised partiality of Stanhope might obtain an influence over her, detrimental to their favorite and long cherished plans. Luciè sincerely regretted that her choice was so unfortunately opposed to the wishes of her aunt; and she feared to encounter the anger of La Tour, whose stern and irritable spirit, when once aroused, was uncontrollable as the stormy ocean. But time, she sanguinely believed, would remove every obstacle. Stanhope was soon to leave her, and, in his absence, she might gradually change the sentiments of Mad. la Tour; and she hoped the pride and generosity of De Valette would prompt him voluntarily to withdraw a suit, which was so unfavourably received. Even if these expectations were disappointed, she would attain her majority in the ensuing spring, when her hand would be at her own disposal, and she should no longer hesitate to bestow it, according to the dictates of her heart.
Stanhope had offered his assistance to La Tour, in the projected expedition to Penobscot; and, as the necessary arrangements were nearly completed, a few days only remained for his continuance at St. John's. To all, except Luciè, it was evident his absence would be unregretted; for he could not but remark the cold and altered manner of Mad. de la Tour, which she vainly endeavored to disguise, by an air of studied politeness; nor the reserve and petulance of De Valette, which he did not attempt to conceal. La Tour was too politic to display his dislike towards one, whose services were so useful to him; though his prejudices were, in reality, the most inveterate.
Father Gilbert returned to the fort, after an absence of three weeks, and he brought intelligence which deeply concerned La Tour. D'Aulney had entered into a negociation with the magistrates of Boston, by which he sought to engage them in his interest, to the exclusion, and evident disadvantage of La Tour. He had sent commissioners, duly authorised to conclude a treaty of peace and commerce with them, and also a letter, signed by the vice admiral of France, which confirmed his right to the government. To this was added a copy, or pretended copy, of certain proceedings, which proscribed La Tour as a rebel and a traitor. Governor Winthrop had, in vain, endeavored to heal the differences, which subsisted between the French commanders in Acadia; D'Aulney refused to accede to any conciliatory measures. Till then, the Massachusetts colony had favored La Tour, on account of his religious principles; but the authority of M. d'Aulney now seemed so well established, and his power to injure them was so extensive, that they consented to sign the articles in question. They, however, entered into no combination against La Tour, nor debarred themselves from their usual friendly intercourse with him.
M. de la Tour listened to these details with extreme indignation, and felt an increased anxiety to depart without delay. The preparations were, therefore, soon concluded, and they waited only for a favorable wind, to convey them from the fort of St. John's.
CHAPTER X.
My fear hath catch'd your fondness—
* * * Speak, is't so?
If it be so, you have wound a goodly clue;
If it be not, foreswear't: howe'er, I charge thee,
As heaven shall work in me for thine avail,
To tell me truly.
Shakspeare.