“In less than two hours! Absurd! You mean to say in less than twenty minutes, is it not?”
183He shrugged his shoulders in respectful protestation. “But, Princess, deign to remember that we are still some miles from this headland, and that Monsieur, your father, is yet farther away,–some fifteen miles, at the very end of the bay which lies beyond.”
She frowned and turned away. “Are we going as fast as possible?”
“I think so.”
“Well, if you are not sure of it, Jacques, go down and tell that engineer to enliven his exasperating machinery. Make everything turn faster, or I shall jump into the sea and swim ahead. It is of a slowness to rend the nerves.”
Jacques Lafenestre moved away to carry out this order. From his youth up he had served this lady and her parents. And when the father, for excellent reasons, left France in haste and came into the wilderness, the old servant followed. Later on he settled in Quebec as keeper of an inn. And ever since that day he had maintained communication with his master.
As the Princess walked impatiently up and down the deck, erect and with elastic tread, often looking at her watch and frowning, she gave the impression of a commanding little person, 184much accustomed to having her own way–and with no talent for resignation. And when, a few moments later, another individual appeared upon the deck, a tall, thin, dark-robed ecclesiastic, evidently of high degree, with fine features and a stately bearing, she hastened to express her annoyance. To his polite greeting she replied rapidly:
“Good-morning, your Grace; but tell me, did you ever see anything like this boat? Did you ever imagine a thing could crawl with such a slowness–such a slowness? I shall die of it! I believe the screw is working backwards.”
The Archbishop smiled,–that is, his mouth lengthened, for mirth and he were strangers,–“But it seems to me we move, Princess, and quite rapidly.”
“Rapidly! Well, never mind. Time and the wind will get us there. But why are you up so early? This is an hour when gentlemen are abed.”