Archie instinctively put out his hand to grasp that of his old friend; but Captain D'Haberville responded with a visible effort, and his hand lay passive in the young man's clasp.
A sigh burst from Archie's lips, and for a time he seemed uncertain what to do. At length he said sorrowfully:
"Captain D'Haberville can refuse to forgive him whom once he loved and overwhelmed with benefits, but he has too noble a soul to wantonly inflict a punishment too great to be endured. To see again the places which will recall such poignant memories will be trial enough in itself, without meeting there the cold welcome which hospitality extends to the stranger. Farewell, Captain D'Haberville; farewell forever to him whom I once called my father, if he will no longer regard me as a son. I call Heaven to witness that every hour has been embittered with remorse since the fatal day when my duty as a soldier under orders forced me to enact a barbarism at which my very soul sickened. I swear to you that a great weight has lain ceaselessly upon my heart, through the hours of excitement on the battle-field, of gayety at ball and festival, not less than through the silence of the long and weary nights. Farewell forever, for I perceive that you have refused to hear from the lips of the good superior the story of my pain and my despair. Farewell for the last time, and, since all intercourse must cease between us, tell me, oh, tell me, I implore you, that some measure of peace and happiness has been restored to your family! Oh, tell me that you are not continually miserable! Nothing remains for me but to pray God on my knees that he will shed his best blessings on a family which I so deeply love! To offer to repair with my own fortune the losses which I caused would be an insult to a D'Haberville."
Though M. D'Haberville had refused to listen to his sister, he had none the less been impressed by the recital of M. de Saint-Luc, and by Archie's devotion in offering to sacrifice his fortune and his future to a sentiment of gratitude. Hence the degree of welcome with which he had received him. Otherwise, it is probable he would have turned his back upon him.
The suggestion of pecuniary compensation made M. D'Haberville start as if he had been touched with a red-hot iron; but this passing emotion was forgotten in the conflict of his feelings. He clasped his breast with both hands, as if he would tear out the bitterness which, in spite of him, clung to his heart. Making Lochiel a sign to remain where he was, he strode rapidly down the shore; then he came back slowly and thoughtfully, and said:
"I have done my utmost, Archie, to banish the last of my bitterness; but you know me, and you know it will be a work of time to blot it completely from my remembrance. All that I can say is that my heart forgives you. My sister the superior told me all. I listened to her, after hearing of your good offices in interceding with the governor on my behalf, of which I learned through my friend de Saint-Luc. I concluded that he who was ready to sacrifice rank and fortune for his friends could only have been acting by compulsion in those circumstances to which I now allude for the last time. If you should notice occasionally any coldness in my attitude toward yourself, please pay no attention to it. Let us leave it all to time."
He pressed Lochiel's hand cordially. The lion was appeased.
"As it is probable," said M. D'Haberville, "that the calm is going to continue, send back your sailors after they have had something to eat; and if by chance a favorable wind should arise, my good nag Lubine will carry you to Quebec in six hours—that is, if your business prevents your staying with us so long as we would wish. This will be convenient for you, will it not?"
With these words, he passed his arm under that of Archie and they walked together toward the house.
"Now, Archie," said the captain, "how does it happen that you bring letters and good news from my son?"