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Home My WebLink AboutThe Seaforth News, 1940-08-01, Page 6PAGE SIX From The Manor se lie got up, and walked to and fro in the cell, musing, and his face grew darker and darker. "You Mon- mouth was a fool," he said. "He struck from the boundaries; the blow should fall in the very chambers of the king," He put a finger musingly upon his lip. "I see—I see how it could be done. Full of danger, but brilliant, brilliant and bold! Yes,yes ...yes!" Then all at once he seemed to come out of a dream, and laugh- ed ironically. "There it is," he said; "there is my case. 1 have the idea, but I will not strike; it is not worth the doing unless I'nl driven to it. We are brave enough, we idlers," he went on; "eve die with an air—all artifice, artifice! .Yet of late I have had dreams. Now that is not well. 11 is foolish to dream, and I had long since ceased to do so. But somehow all the mad fancies of my youth come back. This dream will go, it will not last; it is—my fate, my doom," he added lightly, "or what you will!" I knew, alas, too well where his thoughts were hanging, and I loathed him anew; for, as he hinted, his was a passion, not a deep, abiding love. His will was not stronger than the general turpitude of his nature. As if he had divined my thought, he said, "My will is stronger than any pas- sion that I have; I can never plead weakness in the day of my judgment. I am deliberate. When I choose evil it is because I love it, 1 could be an an- chorite: 1 am, as I said—what you will." '•You are a conscienceless viiliau, :monsieur." '\Vho salves not his soul." he add- ed. with a dry smile. "who wi11 play his game out as he !.:;;an: who 1'e- ..ts nor ever will rep- tit anything: tele sees for hint and you some in- ..e;=ting Moments yet. Lent, me brake' new." and he drew- from his p „ken a packet. He smiled hatefully as he !landed it to ore. and said, 'Sent.? books which monsieur once lent Mademoiselle Duvarney—poems, 1 believe. Mademoiselle found them yesterday. and desired me to fetch them to you; and I obliged her. I had the pleasure of glancing through the books before she rolled them up. She bade me say that monsieur might find them useful in his captiv- ity, She has a tender heart—even to the worst of criminals." I felt a strange churning in my throat, but with composure I took the books, and said, "Mademoiselle Du- varney chooses distinguished mes- sengers." "It is a distinction to aid her in her charities," he replied. I could not at all conceive what was meant. The packet hung in my hands like lead. There was a mystery I could not solve. I would not for an instant think what he meant to eon- vey by a look—that her choice oP bins to carry back my gift to her was a final repulse of past advances I had :Wade to her, a corrective to my mrnantic memories. I would not be lit -%e that, not for one fleeting sec - end, Perhaps, 1 said to myself, it was a ruse of this scoundrel. But again, I put that from me, for I did not think he would stoop to little meannesses, no matter how vile he was in great things. I assumed indifference to the matter, laying the packet down upon my couch, and saying to him, "You will convey my thanks to Mademois- elle Duvarney for these books, whose chief value lies in the honourable housing they have had." He smiled provokingly; no doubt he was thinking that my studied compliment smelt of the oil of soli- tude, "And add -shall I—your compli- ments that they should have their airing at the hands of Monsieur Doi - lairs?" "I shall pay those compliments to Monsieur Doltaire himself one day," 7 replied, He waved his fingers. "The senti- ments of one of the poems were commendable, fanciful. I remember it"—he put a finger to his lip --"let me see." He stepped towards the packet, but I made a sign of interfer- ence—how grateful was I of this aft- erwards! and he drew back courte- THE SEAFORTH NEWS THURSDAY, AUGUST 1, 1940 ously. "Ab well," he said, "I have a fair memory; I can, I think, recall the morsel. It impressed me. I could not think the author an Englishman. It runs thus," and with admirable grace he recited the words: 0 Hewer of all the world, 0 flower of all! The garden where thou dwellest is so fair, Thou art so goodly, and so queenly tall, Thy sweetness scatters sweetness everywhere, O flower of all! "0 flower of all the years, 0 flower of all! A day beside thee is a day of days; Thy voice is softer than the tirrostie's call, There is not song enough to sing thy praise, O flower of a11! "0 flower of all the years, 0 flowet of all! I seek thee in thy garden, and I dare To love thee; and though any deserts be small, Thou aft the only flower I would wear, O flower of all!" "Now that," he said, "is the ro- mantic, almost the Arcadian, spirit. We have lost It, but it lingers like some good scent In the folds of lace. It is also but artifice, yet so is the lingering perfume. When it hung in the flower it was lost after a day's life, but when. gathered and distilled into an essence it becomes, through artifice, an abiding sweetness, So with your song there. It is the spirit of devotion, gathered, it may be, from a thousand flowers, and made into an essence, which is offend to one only. It is not the worship of this one, but the worship of a thou- sand distilled at last to one delicate liturgy. to lnueh for sentiment." he eoutinnee. "Upon my soul, captain Moray. yeti are a boon. I love to have you caged. 1 shall w,udt your 1118 rte, sed career to its close with deep sc'iUtbay. You and 1 are wholly dlfferent, but you are interesting. You never could be great, l'tirdou the egotism, but it is truth. Your brain works heavily, you are too ten- acious of your conscience, you are a blunderer, You will always sow, and others will reap." I waved my hand in deprecation, for I was 1n no mood for further talk, and I made no answer: He smiled at me, and said, "Well, since you doubt my theories, let us come, as your Shakespeare says, to Hecuba,., ,If you will accompany me," he added, as he opened my cell door and motioned me courteously to go outside, I drew hack, and he said, "There is no need to hesitate; I go to show you only what will interest you." We passed in silence through the corridors, two sentinels attending, and at last came into a large square room wherein stood three men with hands tied over their heads against the wall, their faces twitching with pain, I drew back in astonishment, for, standing before them, were Gabord and another sold- ier. Doltaire ordered from the room the soldier and my two sentinels, and motioned me to one of the chairs set in the middle of the floor. Presently his face became hard and cruel, and he said to the tortured prisoners, "You will need to speak the truth, and promptly. I have an order to do with what I will. Hear me. Three nights ago, as Mademois- elle Duvarney was returning from the house of a friend beside the In- tendance, she was set upon by you. A cloak was thrown over her head, she was carried to a carriage, where two of you got inside with her. Some gentlemen and myself were coming that way. We heard the lady's cries, and two gave chase to the carriage, while one followed the others. By the help of soldier Gabord here you all were captured. You have hung where you are for two days, and now I shall have you whipped. When that is done, you shall tell your story. If you do not speak truth, you shall be whipped again, and then hung. Lad- ies shall have safety front rogues. like You." A1ixe's danger told in these concise words made me, I am sure, turn pale; but Doltaire did not see it, be was engaged with the prisoners. .As I thought and wondered four soldiers were brought in, and the men made ready for the lash. In vain they pleaded they would tell their story at once. Doltaire would not listen; the whipping first, and their story after. Soon their backs were bared, their faces were turned to the 'wall, and, as Gabord with harsh voice counted, the lashes were mercilessly laid on. There was a horrible fascination in watching the skin corrugate under the cords, rippling away in red and purple blotches, the grooves in the flesh crossing and recrossing, the taw misery spreading from the biles to the shoulders. Now and again Dol- taire drew out a box and took a pinch of snuff, and once. coolly and curi- ously, he walked up to the most stal- wart prisoner and felt bis pulse. then to the weakest, wbose limbs and body had stiffened as though dead. "Ninety-seven! Ninety-eight! Ninety- nine!" growled Gabord, and then came Doltaire's voice: "Stop! Now fetch some brandy." The prisoners were loosened, and Doltaire spoke sharply to a soldier who was roughly pulling one man's shirt over the excoriated back. Bran- dy was given by Gabord, and the pri- soners stood, a most pitiful sight, the weakest livid: "Now tell your story," said Dol- taire to this last. The man, with broken voice and breath catching, said that they had erred. They had been hired to kid- nap Madame Cournal, not Mademois- elle Duvarney, Doltaire's eyes flashed. "I see, 1 see," he said aside to nte, "The wretch speaks truth." "Who was your master?" he asked of the sturdiest of the villians; and he was told that Monsieur Cournal had engaged thein, To the question what was to be done with Madame Cournal, another answered that she was to be waylaid as she was coming from the Intendance, and hurried away to be imprisoned for life. Doltaire sat for a moment, looking at the men in silence, "You are not to hang," he said at last; "but ten days hence, when you have had one hundred lashes more, you shall go free. Fifty for you," he continued to the weakest, who had first told the story, "Not fifty, nor one!" was the shrill reply, and, being unbound, the pris- oner snatched something from a bench near, there was a flash of steel, and he came huddling in a heap on the floor. muttering a ntaledictiou an the tvui9d, "There was some bravery in that," said T)oltait'e, looking at the dead man, "If he has friends, hand over the body to theta. This matter )oust not be spoken of ---at your peril:' Ile added ,it•rnly, "Give theist food and inanely." Then he accompanied me to my cell, and opened the door, 1 passed in, and he was about going without a word, when on a sudden Itis old nonchalance carne back, and he said: "I promised you a matter of inter- est. You have burl it. Gather philoso- phy from this; yott may with impun- ity buy anything from a knave and fool except his nuptial bed, He throws the money in your face some day." So saying he plunged in thought again, and left me, XVI. Immediately I opened the packet, As Doltaire had said, the two books of poems I had lent Alixe were there, and between the pages of one lay a letter addressed to me. It was, in- deed, a daring thing to snake Dol- taire her messenger. But she trusted to his habits of courtesy; he had no small meaunesses—he was no 551 or thief. Deur Robert (the letter ran): I know not if this will ever reach you, for 1 am about to try a perilous thing, even to make Monsieur Dol- taire my letter -carrier. Bold as it is, 171ope to bring it throagh safely. You must know that my mother now makes Monsieur Doltaire wel- come to our home, for his great tal- ents and persuasion have so worked upon her that she believes him not so black as he is painted. My father, address and complaisance. I do not think he often cares to use his arts— he is too indolent; but with my fath- er, my mother, and my sister Ile has set in motion all his resources. Robert, all Versailles is here, This Monsieur Doltaire speaks for it. I know not it every court in the world is the same, but if so, I am at heart no courtier; though I love the spar- kle, the sharp play of wit and word, the very touch-and-go of weapons. I am in love with life, and I 'wish to live to be old, very old, that 1 will have known it all, from helplessness to helplessness again, Missing noth- ing, even though much be sad to feel and bear. Robert, I should have gone on many years, seeing little, knowing little, I think, if it had not been for you and for your troubles, which are mine, and for this love of ours, cber- ished in the midst of sorrows. Georg- ette is now as old as wben I first cane to love you, and you were thrown into the citadel, and yet, in feeling and experience, I am ten Years older than she; and necessity has made me wiser. Ah, if necessity would but make me happy too, by giving you your liberty, that on these many miseries endured we might set up a sure home! I wonder if you tbink—if you think of that: a little home away from all these wars, aloof from vexing things. But there! all too plainly 1 am showing you my heart, Yet it so good a c'onifo't to speak on paper to you, in this silence here. Can you guess where is that here, Robert? It is not the Chateau St, Louis—no. It is not the manor. It is the chateau, dean' Chateau Alixe—my father has called it that—on the island of Orleans. Three days ago I was sick at Heart, tired of all the jnnketings and feast- ings, and I begged my mother to fetch me here, though it is yet but early spring, and snow is on the gt'otmd. First, you must know that this new chateau is built upon, and is joined to, the ruins of an old one, owned long year's ago by the Baron of Beaugard, whose strange history you must learn some day, out of the papers we have found here. I begged my father not to tear We old portions of the manor down, but, using the first founda.' tions, put up a house half castle and half manor. Pictures of the old manor were found, and so we have a place that is no patchwork, but a renewal. 1 made my father give me the old surviving part of the building for my own, and so it is, It is all set on high ground abut- ting on the water almost at the point where I am, and I have the river in my sight all day. Now, think yourself in the new building. You come out of a dining -hall, hung all about with horns and weapons and shields and such bravery, go through a dark, narrow passage, and then down a step or two. You open a door, bright light breaks on your eyes, then two steps lower, and you are here with me. You might have gone outside the dining -ball upon a stone terrace, and so have come along to the deep win- dow where I sit so often. You may think of me hiding in the curtains, watching you, though you knew it not till you touched the window and I came out quietly, startling you. so that yor heart would beat beyond counting! As I look up towards the whitlow, the thing first 111 sight is the cage. with the little bird which came to Sue Ill the cathedral the Morning my bro- ther gut lease of lite again: you do remember—is it not so? II never goes from my roam, and though I have come here hut far a. week -1 unti't'led tlo' cage well awl brought it over; and thane the laird swings and sings the lung day through, 1 have heaped the wMow-seal s With soft furs, and one of these I prize most rarely. It was a gift—and whose. think you? Even a poor soldier's. Yon see I have not till friends among the great folk. I often lie upon that soft robe of sable—ay, sable, Master Robert— and think of him who gave it to me, Now I know you are jealous, and I can see your eyes flash up. But you shall at once be soothed. It is ito other than Gabord's gift. He is now of the Governor's body -guard, and I think is by no means happy, and would prefer service with the Mar- quis de Montcalm, who goes not comfortably with the Intendant and the Governor. One day Gabord ca1110 to our house on the ramparts, and, asking for me, blundered out, "Aho, what shall a soldier do with sables? They are for gentles and for ,wrens to snuggle in. Here comes a Rnssiau couut over- sea, and goes orad in tavern. Here comes Gabord, and saves count from ruddy crestfor kissing the wrong wench. Then count falls on Gabord's neck, and kisses both his ears, and gives hint sables, and crosses over- see versea again; and so good-bye to count and his foolery, And sables shall be nta'ut'selle's, if she will have them," He might have sold the thing for many louts, and yet he brought it to me; and he would not go till he had seen me sitting on it, muffling my hands and face in the soft fur. Just now, as I am writing, 1 glance at the table where I sit—a entail brown table of oak, carved with the name of False, Barness of Beaugard. She sat here; and some day, when you hear her story, you will know why I begged Madame Lothiniere 10 give it to me in exchange for another, once the king's. Carved, too, beneath her name, are the words, "0 tarry thou the Lord's leisure." And now you shall laugh with me at a droll thing Georgette has given me to wipe my pen upon. There are three little circles of deerskin and one of ruby velvet, stitched together in the centre, Then, standing on the velvet is a yellow wooden chick, with little eyes of beads,' and a little wood- en bill stuck in most quaintly, and a head that twists like a weathercock. It bus such a piquant silliness of look that 1 laugh at it most heartily, and 1 have an almost elfish fun in smearing its downy feathers I ant sure you did not think 1 could be amused so easily. You shall see this silly chick one day, humorously ugly and all daubed with ink. There is a low couch in one corner of the room, and just above hangs a Picture of my mother. In another corner is a little shelf of books, among them two which I have stud- ied constantly since you were put in prison—your great Shakespeare, and the writings of one Mr. Addison, I had few means of studying at first, so difficult it seemed, and ail the words sounded hard; but there is here, as you know, your countryman, one Lieutenant Stevens of Itogers's Rangers, a prisoner, and he has help- ed 1110, and is ready to help you when the time comes for stirring. 1 teach Mini French; and though 1 do not talk of you, he tells me in what e5(0001 you are held In Virginia and in Eng- land, and is not slow to praise you on his own account, which makes me more forgiving when be would come to sentiment! 10 another corner is my spinning - wheel, and there stands a harpsi- chord, just where the soft sun sends in a ribbon of light; and I will pre- sently play for you a pretty song 1 wonder if you can hear it? Where I shall sit at the harpsichord the belt of sunlight will fall across my shoul- der, and, looking through the win- dow, I shall see your prison there on the Heights; the silver flag with its gold lilies on the Chateau St, Louis; the great guns of the citadel; and far off at Beauport the Manor House and garden which you and I know so well, and the Falls of Montmo'enei, falling like white flowing hair from the tall cliff. You will care to know of how these months have been spent, and what news of note there is of the lighting between our countries. No matters of great consequence have conte -to Dur ears, save that it is thought your navy may descend on Louisburg; that Ticonderoga is also to be set upon, and Quebec to be besieged in the coming summer. From France the news is various, Now, Frederick of Prussia and England defeat the al- lies, France, Russia, and Austria; now, they, as MMlonsieur Dollttirt. says, "send the great Prnssiau to verses and the megrims." For my own part, I ant ever glial to hear that our cause is vietariotts, and letters that my brOtlter writes me rouse all Illy ardour for Illy country, Juste ]las grown in place and favour, ant] 111 his latest letter he says that 41111' deur Doltaire's voice has gut him much advculcemcut. Ile also re- marks that M❑nsietu' Doltaire has reputation for being one of the Most rerklss, clever, and cynical num in France. Things that he has said are quoted at hall and rout. Yet the king is angry with him, and Lot Yontpte don's caprice may senor 111111 again to the hostile.'1'hesc: things Juste heard front II'AI•gensell, Minister of War. through his secretary, with whom be is friendly, I will now c10 what 1 never thought to do: I will send you here some ex- tracts front 1117 journal, which will disclose to you the secrets of a girl's troubled heart. Some folk might say that I am unmaidenly in this. But 1 care not, 1 fear not. December 24, I was with Robert to- day, 1 let him see what trials 1 had had with Monsieur Doltaire, and what were like to come, It hurt 100 to tell him, yet it would have hurt me more to withhold them. 1 am hurt whichever way it goes. Monsieur Dol- taire rouses the worst parts of Inc, On the one ]land I detest hint for his hatred of Robert, and for his evil life, yet on the other I must needs admire him for his many graces— why are not the graces of the wicked horrible?—for his singular abilities, and because, gamester Brough he. may be, he is no public robber. Then, too, the melancholy of his birth and hist- ory Hahn some. sympathy, Sometimes when I listen to him speak, hear the almost piquant sadness of his words, watch the spirit of isolation which, by design or otherwise, shows in - him, for the moment 1 am conscious of a pity or an interest which I flout in wiser hours, This is Iris art, the deep danger of his personality. 1'o -night he came, and with many fine phrases wished us a happy day to -morrow, and most deftly worked upon my mother and Georgette by looking round and speaking with a quaint sort of raillery—half pensive, it was -of the peace of this home -life of ours; and, indeed, be did it so in- imitably that I was 1101 sure how much was false and how much true. 1 tried to avoid hire to -day, but my mother constantly made private speech between us easy. At last he had his way, and then 1 was not sor- ry; for Georgette was listening to trim with more colour than she is wont to wear. I would rather see her in her grave than with her hand in his, her sweet life in his power. She is unschooled in the ways of the world, and she never will know it as I now do. How am 1 sounding all the depths! Can a woman walk the dance PROFESSIONAL CARDS MEDICAL SEAFORTH CLINIC Dr. E. A. McMaster, M.B., Graduate of University of Toronto. J. D. Colquhoun, M.D„ C,M„ Grad- uate of Dalhousie University, Halifax, The Clinic is fully equipped with complete and modern x-ray and other up-to-date diagnostic and thereuptic equipment, Dr. Margaret le. Campbell, M.D., L.A.B,P,, Specialist in Diseases in Intents and Children, will be at the Clinic last Thursday in every month from 3 to 6 5.01. Dr. F, J. R. Forster, Specialist in Diseases of the Ear, Eye, Nose and Throat, will be at the Clinic the first Tuesday in every month from 4 to 6 p.m. Free well -baby clinic will be held on the second and last Thursday in every month from I to 2 p.m. JOHN A. GQRWiLL, B.A.,M.D, Physician and Surgeon In Dr, 11, H. Ross' ofMoe, Phone 6J DR. F. J. R. FORSTER Eye, Ear, Nose and Throat Graduate in Medicine, University of Toronto. Late Assistant New York Ophthalmic and Aural Institute, Moorefield's Eye, and Golden Square throat hospitals, London, Eng. At Commercial Hotel, Seaforth, third Wednesday in each month from 2 to 4 p.m. Also at Seaforth Clinic first Tuesday in each month. -53 Waterloo St., Stratford. Telephone 267. MARGARET K. CAMPBELL, M.D. London, Ontario Graduate Toronto University Licentiate of American Board of Pedi- atrics, Diseases of Children At Seaforth Clinic, last Thunsday at- ternoon, each month. AUCTIONEER GEORGE ELLIOTT, Licensed Auctioneer for the County of Huron. Arrangements can be made for Sale Date at The Seaforth News, Charges moderate and satisfaction guaranteed F. W. AHIEENS, Licensed Auction. eer for Perth and Huron Counties. Sales Solicited. Terms on Application, Farm Stock, chattels and real estate property. Il, 11, No. 4, Mitchell, Phone 634 r 6, Apply at this ofita'e, HAROLD JACKSON Licensed in Huron and Perth t'oun• thee Prices reasonable; satisfaction guaranteed. For information, write or phone Harold Jackson, 053r12, Sea. forth central; Brucerlcld R.R.1. Watson & Reid REAL ESTATE AND INSURANCE AGENCY (Successors to James Watson) MAIN ST., SEAFORTH, ONT. All kinds of Insurance risks effect- ed at lowest rates in First -Class Companies. The McKillop Mutual Fire Insurance Co. HEAD OFFICE—SEAFORTH, Ont. OFFICERS President, Wm. Knox, Londesboro;. Vice President, W. R. Archibald, Seaforth; Secretary Treasurer, M. A. Reid, Seaforth. AGENTS F, McKercher, R.R.1, Dublin; John 17. Pepper, R.R.1, Brucefleld; E. 11. G. Jarmouth, Brodhagen; James Watt, Blyth; C. F. Hewitt, Kincardine; Wm. Yeo, Holmesville, DIRECTORS Alex Broadfoot, Seaforth; William. Knox, Londesboro; Chris Leonhardt, Dublin; James Connolly, Goderich; Thomas Moylan, Seaforth; W. R. Archibald, Seaforth; Alex MoEwing, Blyth; Frank McGregor, Clinton; Hugh Alexander, Walton. Parties desirous to effect insurance or transact other business, will be promptly attended to by applications to any of the above named officers addressed to their respective post - offices. with evil, and be no worse for it by and- bye? Yet for a cause, for a cause! What can I do? I can not say, - "Monsieur Doltaire, you must not speak with me, or talk with me; you are .a plague -spot." No, I must even. follow this path, so it but lead at last to Robert and his safety. Monsieur, having me alone at last, said to me, "I have kept my word as to the little' boast: this Captain Mor- ay still lives." e