“Then, madame, I would recommend the following plan: instead of going on to Quebec, by which you will lose little, save a glimpse at a society which is not without its charm, you should go back across the river and down as far as Beaulieu, where you will find Mme. de Sarennes and her charming daughter Angélique. I shall give you letters which will ensure you a welcome and a shelter for such time as you may have to remain under her care. Her son Charles, who is a noted figure in the colony, will be up and down between Louisbourg and Quebec during the winter, and I will see that he takes charge of you and conducts you safely on your journey.
“And now, madame, it is very probable that you are but ill supplied with money, if indeed you have any. Pardon my frankness, but I am old enough to be your father, and I know the awkwardness of such a position. If I be correct, I am sure you will not deny me the pleasure of helping you.”
“Monsieur, your kindness needs no excuse; but, with a thousand thanks, let me assure you I am well, even abundantly supplied, as I had nearly all my money sewn in my clothes before leaving, and I do not foresee any want of that kind, even though my stay be longer than now appears probable. But I shall be most grateful for your letter to Mme. de Sarennes, and it shall be my endeavour not to prove a burthen on her hospitality.”
“M. de Bougainville,” he said, beckoning to one of his officers, “will you come and tell Mme. de St. Just something of this charming country, while I write some letters?” So saying, he introduced his aide to me, and stepped into the cabin, leaving me to the amusing society of his officers. The moments passed quickly until the Marquis reappeared bearing two letters.
“Do not disappear, gentlemen, unless it be to seek a glass of wine in which to wish madame 'bon voyage.'
“This, madame,” he said, handing me one of the letters, “is to Mme. de Sarennes; but with it I have taken care to enclose that of le père Jean, for our good Canadians, as you will find, attach more value to the simple word of a priest—and in this instance I will not say they are wrong—than to the command of any lay authority. His letter will spare you all explanations with the mother, and this other will serve as an order for that gallant coureur de bois, her son, when he puts in an appearance, in the event of his visiting Beaulieu before I see him in Quebec. Let me assure you, further, that you have only to command my services, should you need them, either before or after you may reach Louisbourg. The Chevalier de Drucour, I am persuaded, will be only too ready to do me a service, should I ask it either on my behalf or on that of another. I shall esteem it, if you will consider yourself as under my protection.”
“But, monsieur, what claim have I to all this kindness?” I asked, overwhelmed at the possibilities I saw before me.
“You are the friend of my friend; I would do anything for his sake,” he answered, simply, disdaining any of those compliments which would so readily suggest themselves to a man of less nice breeding.
“I am sorry we cannot offer you any fitting hospitality here,” he said, as he rose. Then, turning towards the others, he added: “Gentlemen, I am apologising for our scanty larder, which prevents our detaining Mme. de St. Just for supper. M. de Bougainville, as a mathematician, might have seen to a less exact but more generous provision.”
“His head was among the stars,” explained a jovial-looking officer, in a rueful tone, “and we less-exalted mortals are the losers, alas!”