“It is a time of war, my daughter,” he returned, smiling. “More than one person is moving about the country in a mysterious way; much greater freedom is allowed; and when I explained to Mme. de Sarennes that you were in my care, and it was necessary you should be absent for a time, she was satisfied with my word, and bade your woman make up a packet of necessaries for you, which André will bring presently. You cannot do better than remain where you are until I can arrange for your woman to meet you and go on to Quebec together. I soon shall know what opportunity offers for a passage to France, which will be somewhat uncertain now, as the English who wintered at Halifax are at sea again; but there is time enough to decide; the whole summer is before us.”
And all this without a word, without a look of reproach; how my heart went out to him for his forbearance!
At length I asked the question which was always with me: “Mon père, is there any news?”
“From Louisbourg? Nothing that is hopeful. A more formidable fleet than ever before has left England; we cannot expect any succour from France; and Louisbourg is probably invested by this time, if the enemy have made good their landing. Before another month the matter will be pushed to an issue, and it will be against us, unless the place can be relieved.”
Where the expected relief was to come from I did not dare to ask, as I could not doubt but that M. de Sarennes was an important factor in the plan.
Le père Jean had manifold duties to perform during his short stay; impatient couples were married, children were baptised, and many an anxious heart relieved of the burthen which it had borne alone through the long imprisonment of the winter. He did not suffer me to remain idle either, for he gathered the children about him, and showed me how to instruct them in the elements of our faith.
“Here is your work,” he said, smiling. “You have your education and sympathy on the one hand, and on the other are these little black and brown heads—Bergerons, Tremblays, Gauthiers, and so on—to be filled with some measure of the grace which God intended for each of them. It will be a comfort to me to think of them in your hands while I am sent on my Master's business, often into paths not of my own choosing. Do not on any account be tempted to leave here until I come or send for you. Even if M. de Sarennes should appear, be under no apprehension, for all you need do is to tell Mme. Dufour, and it will be a delight to her to balk his plans, as there is no love lost between these Islanders and the people of the main-land.”
“I will do my best, mon père. When may I look for your return?”
“I cannot tell, perhaps in a month or so; but do not let that disturb you; for, even if I am prevented, I will surely send you word what to do. Seek your quiet in your daily task, and your comfort in prayer.”
So he took his way, leaving me in such content as was possible. Had I dared I would have questioned him about the letter, but I could not bring myself to acknowledge this humiliation, even to him. I felt it so keenly, that I no longer wondered my tormentor had felt himself free to make any proposal, when it was but to one whom he believed to be the discarded wife of another, and I found a new misery in vain imaginings of what had been written to call forth so heartless a reply. I would comfort myself at one moment by thinking it was not intended for me, only to be met by the alternative of Hugh being married to another. Turn which way I might, I could frame no explanation which brought any comfort. If the letter were for me, then had no man ever betrayed love more cruelly; if for another, then I had thrown away my life.