She learnt her doom, and the good clergyman sat by her trying to afford some consolation. But she seemed not to understand the meaning of his words, or even to hear them. The blow had been too overwhelming for mortal tongue to fashion words that could convey aught of comfort. She sat there, her face like a stone, her eyes tearless. Yes, she read his letter and kissed his presents. She would fold the letter sometimes and lay it away near to her heart. Then she would open it again, spread it upon her lap, and sit half the day alternately looking at, and tenderly handling it. A few days and nights were spent during which she spake no word, eat no food, nor took any sleep. At the end of the fourth day they found her on a little seat beside the door where he had said good-bye to her. She had his letter in her hand and his ring upon her finger. But she was dead.
CHAPTER IX.
After the return of Mr. McDougall to Ottawa, and while the Government press busied itself in laying upon that gentleman's shoulders the blame which should have been debited to the blundering of the administration, steps were being taken to have an armed force sent at once to the scene of tumult, to restore the authority of the Queen. Sir Garnet Wolseley, who has since earned distinction in bush and desert fighting, was the officer put in charge of the expedition.
Before this step had been taken, however, the government had set the wheels of a totally different sort of force in motion. Monseigneur Tache, to whom I have already referred, was absent in Rome attending the Ecumenical Council, when the disturbance broke out. Sir John went to M. George E. Cartier then, and said:
"My idea is that the man who can do more to settle this matter than all the wisdom of the Government combined, is Monseigneur Tache. What think you—would it not be well to represent the case to him by cable, and ask him to return?"
"Oui, Sir John,—the suggestion is good." So the bishop was cabled for, and he came home. "Well, Messieurs," he said, "what function is it with which you would endow me? With what have I to deal?"
"The people are in open, armed rebellion. They do not want to come into the confederation; and there is an extensive desire for annexation. The head of the movement is Louis Riel, and he is president of the Provisional Government. He has seized and invested Fort Garry, set up laws for himself, and is feeding and supplying his troops with the property of the Hudson's Bay Company." [Let it be borne in mind that, at this time, the murder of Scott had not been committed, and Riel and his followers were only known to be guilty of having risen in armed revolt, and consumed much of the stores of the Hudson's Bay Company].
"Well, Messieurs, the case is made plain. Now, with what authority do you endow me?"
"We authorize you to say to the Rebels, on behalf of the Government, that if they will peaceably depart to their homes, and submit to the authority of the Queen, as represented by the Government of Canada, no harm will come to them. We authorize you further, to assure them that the Government will stand between them and the Hudson's Bay Company, should the latter seek recompense for stores consumed, or property appropriated. Finally, for the offences committed—and which we have specified —you shall, on our behalf, extend pardon to each and all."
Armed with this authority, the bishop set out. Before he reached Winnipeg the blood-thirsty president had murdered Scott. I hope the reader has not forgotten that Monseigneur was the same divine who used to look with delight upon Louis Riel when a child, and stroke his glossy, black hair. That he was the same gentleman who found for the lad a benefactress in the person of Madame Masson.