“Dear heart! Dear heart! Let me help you,” she murmured, raising me to my feet, and beginning to undress me like a child, crooning over me and quieting me with tender touches and gentle words.
“Oh, Lucy, speak to me, say something to comfort me. I am the most unhappy woman alive.”
“My dear, dear mistress, no one can be so unhappy that our Father cannot comfort her. This is the time of all others when He is nearest to you. You have but to stretch forth your hand to touch His robe; you have but to open your heart to have Him come in and fill it with the Peace which passeth understanding. I am an ignorant woman, but I have this knowledge. I went through a sorrow, and what I believed to be a disgrace, helpless and alone, and knew of no comfort till He sent me His.
“I do not know your sorrow, I might not understand it if you told me, but beside this bed is standing One who knew what it was to be alone more than any other, and He is saying to you, 'Come, and I will give you rest.'”
“Dear Lucy, you are such a comfort to me. I do not understand these things in the way you do. I have never heard them so spoken of; but oh! I feel so safe while you speak!”
“Now, mistress, I will sing to you”—and she sang her sweet songs of comfort in trouble, of deliverance in danger, of love awaiting us, until my sorrow was stilled and I fell asleep.
M. de Sarennes kept his word in so far as further annoyance was concerned, but he displayed a familiarity towards me which called forth laughing comments from Angélique, and kept me constantly on the rack. At the end of the week he left on his mission to Quebec, promising to return within ten days, and charging us to prepare for our long journey.
I was at my wits' end to know what to do. I could not refuse to go with him, no matter what my distrust. I could not make any explanation to his mother or sister which would not expose me to a position I shuddered even to contemplate. Would Charles, their idol, behave towards any woman worthy of respect as he had behaved to me? I was completely in his power; no matter what he had done or might do, he had but to appear and say, “Come!” and I must follow, no matter how my heart might fail me.
All too late I realised what I had brought upon myself by my cowardly evasion of le père Jean's commands. I had deceived myself, or rather, I had pretended to be led by outward chance, instead of honestly following our compact, and now, I was reaping my reward. That this man was in love with me I could not doubt, but it was a love that made me sick to my very soul when I thought of it. Yet, he was a gentleman, by birth at least; he was answerable to the Marquis for my safe-keeping; and no matter what uneasiness or unquiet I might suffer on the journey, he would not dare to offer me any indignity with Lucy by me and Hugh awaiting me at its end.
With this I was forced to be content, and busied myself with Angélique and Lucy in our preparations. Angélique chattered merrily, regretting she could not take the journey with us; her brother knew the woods as others knew the town; he could tell every track, whether of bird or beast; he was so cunning that no storm surprised him, and so tender he would care for us like children.