THE MARQUIS DE MONTCALM-GOZON DE ST. VÉRAN
In Maître Gabriel I found a type I could readily understand; he was very shrewd, very curious, with a passion for questioning, but so honest and childlike that he took no offence at any rebuff. He was a thorough sailor, a martinet to his little crew, vain of his skill and boastful of his courage, and confident of the showing he and his fellow-Canadians would make against “les goddams,” should they venture to appear.
He insisted on hearing the story of our capture in detail, and seemed much more amused at the address of the Indians than distressed at our misfortune.
“They were good fellows, after all, madame. If it had not been for them, you would not have fallen into the hands of le père Jean. But, bedame! I cannot understand why he should send you to Quebec when he knew you were bound for Louisbourg. A priest, no doubt, knows much, but I can tell you, madame, if you came to me and whispered 'Louisbourg,' it would not be by way of Quebec I should send you. If you have any reason to be there, there is no time like the present, for the English are on their way thither even now; and if they are frightened away by our ships, they will be back in the spring; take my word for it!”
“But, Gabriel, le père Jean spake as if nothing was to be feared from any attempt they might make at present.”
“Perhaps not, but they may try it, all the same. They have been in Halifax for months past, and only sailed in August. I do not think it will come to anything myself, but by the spring all the music will be on hand, and the dancing before Louisbourg will begin in earnest. But pardon, madame; I forgot you had friends there, or I would not have let my tongue run on so.”
“No, no, Gabriel; I wish to hear all you have learned. Why is it impossible to go to Louisbourg?”
“Bedame! I never said it was impossible to go to Louisbourg, madame; mais, 'qui se tient à Paris, ne sera jamais pape,' and your face is not in the right direction. If you would be there, madame, I would engage to find you a way in the teeth of all 'les goddams' who ever chewed rosbif. But I forget; we are going to Quebec,” he ended, slyly, evidently desirous that I should talk.
This, however, I would not do, but he had given me matter enough to keep me awake by night and set me anxiously dreaming by day.
Why had the priest been so determined to keep me from Louisbourg? Now that I thought it over, I saw that I had never urged my wish at all. I had allowed my whole purpose to be swept aside at his first firm refusal to consider my request. And all this time Hugh was in danger, while I had turned my back upon him. If not in danger now, he certainly would be in the spring, and all my effort, with those weary miles of sea again between us, would be unavailing for his recall. Indeed, he would probably refuse to leave his post if it were threatened by an enemy. Why had I consented? Why was I even now lengthening the heart-breaking distance between us with every coward mile I travelled? Why had I not pleaded with le père Jean, instead of obeying blindly, like a child? He had not known the real danger, perhaps, or his advice would have been different.