“Yes, yes,” I cried, in desperation, eager to seize any chance of escape.
“Then, madame, believe me, you were very foolish not to say so at once. I guessed it the very first night I saw you. Now I know the Chevalier intimately; in fact, I am under obligation to him for much good advice; but I will confess he has never seen fit to impart to me the fact of his marriage, which will be a surprise to many.”
“O, monsieur, I beg of you that you will never mention it,” I cried, in an agony of shame and self-reproach.
“Never, madame; believe me, it was too disappointing a piece of news in my own case, for me to have any desire to place others in the like unhappy position. But allow me first to apologise for frightening you; pardon me that I cannot look upon it as an insult; and now that I have made the amende honorable, I will go back and answer your first question. I shall start for Quebec in two days; I shall be back in a week, and then leave for Louisbourg at once, if you feel you can trust yourself with me.”
I was so completely in his power that I mastered up all my courage, and replied, bravely enough: “M. de Sarennes, I cannot but believe I am safe in the charge of one whom I know as so loving a son, so fond a brother. I trust you, too, as the friend of M. de Maxwell; and I trust you, most of all, because you have learned my secret, and, being a gentleman, I believe you will not betray it.”
“I don't know how far I accept the compliment, but at all events, madame, I shall say nothing of your affairs. Remember, though, it rests chiefly with you to prevent suspicion. You must keep the same free intercourse with me, and never allow my mother or sister to gather by word, or sign, that the nature of our conference to-day has been otherwise than pleasant. Now that we have come to an understanding, no doubt some news of Louisbourg will be welcome.”
As he spake we turned back towards the manor; his whole bearing so changed in a moment that it was hard to believe the bright, pleasant-spoken man by my side was the same creature of rough, brutal instincts and feelings who had tortured and alarmed me so cruelly. Little by little I recovered my composure, as he told of the life in the fortress, of the probable investment by the English in the spring—if they could then muster a sufficient fleet—of M. de Drucour, of M. Prévost, and, best of all, of Hugh, though he tried to disturb my peace by hinting at some understanding between him and Madame Prévost.
“It all depends on you now, madame,” he said, significantly, as he held the door open for me to enter, and fortunately I had firmness enough to control myself through the long evening and until I could gain my room.
There I broke down utterly, as I knelt beside my bed, unable to rise, or to control the sobs which shook my whole body.
Lucy was beside me in a moment.