I flung de Ramezay a swift glance of anticipation, which he caught as he arose in his place to greet the new-comer. On the faces around the table I took note of an ill-disguised annoyance. The Abbé, it was plain, found small favour in that company. But to do him justice, he seemed but little careful to court favour. He stood in the doorway, frowning, a piercing and bitter light in his close-set eyes. He waited for de Ramezay to come forward and give him welcome,—which de Ramezay presently did, and would have led him to a seat at the table.
But "No!" said the grim intruder. "With all thanks for your courtesy, Monsieur, I have no time, nor am I in the temper, for revellings. When I have said my word to you I will get me to the house of one of my flock, and sup plainly, and take what rest I may, for at dawn I must set out for the Shubenacadie. There is much to be done, and few to do it, and the time grows short!" and he swept a look of reprimand about the circle.
"Would you speak with me in private, Father?" asked de Ramezay, with great civility.
"It is not necessary, Monsieur!" replied the Abbé. "I have but to say that I arrested the pestilent young traitor, Marc de Mer, on his father's estate at Canard, and left him under guard while I went to attend to other business. I found upon his person clear proofs of his treachery, which would have justified his hanging on the instant. But I preferred that you should be the judge!"
"You did well!" said de Ramezay, gravely. "I must ask even you, Monsieur l'Abbé, to remember on all occasions that I, and I only, am the judge, so long as I remain in Acadie!"
To this rebuke, courteous though it was, the priest vouchsafed no reply but a slight smile, which uncovered his strong yellow teeth on one side, like a snarl. He continued his report as if there had been no interruption.
"In my brief absence his father, with some disaffected habitants, deceived my faithful followers by a trick, and carried off the prisoner. But I have despatched a strong party on the trail of the fugitives. They will certainly be captured, and brought at once—"
But at this point his voice failed him. His face worked violently with mingled rage and amazement, and following his gaze I saw Marc standing and bowing with elaborate courtesy.
"They are already here, Sir Abbé," said he, "having made haste that they might give you welcome!"
A ripple of laughter went around the table, as the company, recovering from some moments of astonishment, began to understand the situation. I, too, rose to my feet, smiling expectantly. The priest's narrow eyes met mine for a second, with a light that was akin to madness. Then they shifted. But he found his voice again.