Secondly, she saw that Cazeneau, for some reason or other, was determined to keep her under his control. He was determined not to allow her to return to France, and not to enter a convent. He was bent upon a.s.sociating her with his own life, and causing her to be admired in Louisbourg. Added to this was his promise to take her back to France with himself. All this showed that he would on no account allow her to part with him. What was the meaning of it all? And now the thought could no longer be kept out of her mind: Cazeneau"s purpose was to make her his wife.
His wife!
The thought was to her most odious; but, having once presented itself, she could not argue it away, nor could she get rid of it at all. Yes, that was the meaning that lurked behind his words all the time. That was the meaning of his promise to make her admired and happy.
Finally, she remembered how he had stated to her the fact that he was supreme in Louisbourg, and that through his grandeur she was to receive homage from all the lesser throng. To her this seemed like a plain statement that she was in his power, and entirely at his mercy.
And now, what could she do? The future was worse than ever. She was completely in the power of a man whom she detested--a man upon whom she looked as her father"s evil genius, as one whose evil counsel had long ago led her father to that act which he had atoned for by remorse and death. She was now in the hands of this villain. Escape seemed impossible. He was supreme here. From him there was no appeal.
And she was a beggar. But, even if she were rich, what hope could she have against him?
As she asked herself this question, there was no answer. She did not know what she could do, and could scarcely hope that she would ever know.
It was in this state of mind that Pere Michel found her, on the evening of that day. Mimi saw his arrival with intense delight. Here seemed one who might relieve her in her distress. Accordingly she proceeded to tell him her whole story, all the words of Cazeneau, with all their implied meaning, and all her own fears, from beginning to end.
The priest heard her narration in profound silence, and after she had told him all, he remained in deep thought for some time, while Mimi sat anxiously awaiting what he might say.
"My dear child," said the priest, at length, "it is difficult for me to give you advice, for your situation is most unpleasant, and most distressing to me. I can only entreat you to put your trust in that Heaven who never deserts the innocent. You must go to Louisbourg--there is no hope of escaping that. Besides, you yourself wish to go there. The Count de Cazeneau certainly has the chief power there; but whether he is omnipotent remains to be seen. Who knows what other powers may be there? I have known cases where the commandant has had powerful rivals,--such as the admiral of the fleet, or some subordinate who had influence at court at home. I have known places where the bishop could interfere and prevent his doing wrong. So, be calm, my daughter, put your trust in Heaven, and recollect that the commandant cannot break through all restraints, but that there must be some barriers that he cannot force. If you wish the protection of the church, that will always be yours. Beware how you do anything rashly. Confide in me. Perhaps, after all, these troubles may have a good end."
CHAPTER XI.
A FRIEND IN NEED.
For more than a week Claude had been kept in confinement, and had seen nothing of any of his former acquaintances. The confinement was not so close as it might have been, and escape was not absolutely impossible, for the window which lighted the chamber was merely a wooden sash, with four panes of gla.s.s, which Claude could have removed, had he been so disposed; but this he was not inclined to do, and for two reasons. One reason was, because, if he did get out, he had no idea where to go. Annapolis Royal was the nearest settlement belonging to the English; but he did not know in which direction it lay. He knew, however, that between Grand Pre and that place the country was settled by the French, among whom he could not go without being captured by his pursuers, while if he took to the woods he would be sure to fall into the hands of the Indians, who were the zealous allies of the French. Such a prospect was of itself sufficient to deter him from the attempt to escape. But there was also another reason. He could not bear the thought of leaving Mimi forever, and never seeing her again. If he should succeed in escaping to Annapolis Royal, it would be an eternal separation between her and himself. Grand Pre seemed pleasant to him since she was here; and he thought it better to be a prisoner here than a free man elsewhere.
He, therefore, deliberately preferred to run any risk that might be before him, with the faint hope of seeing Mimi again, rather than to attempt flight.
What had happened since he had come here he did not know very clearly. From conversation which he had overheard he had gathered that Labordo was dead; but, when he asked any of them about it, they refused to tell him anything at all. Claude was, therefore, left to make the most that he could out of this vague information. But the intelligence caused him to feel much anxiety about Mimi. He remembered well all that she had ever told him, and could not help wondering what she would do under present circ.u.mstances. Would she be willing to remain in the neighborhood of Cazeneau? But how could she help it? Would not Cazeneau take advantage of her present loneliness to urge forward any plans that he might have about her?
Already the suspicion had come to Claude that Cazeneau had certain plans about Mimi. What he thought was this: that Laborde was rich, that Mimi was his heiress, and that Cazeneau was a man of profligate life and ruined fortunes, who was anxious to repair his fortunes by marrying this heiress. To such a man the disparity in their years would make no difference, nor would he particularly care whether Mimi loved him or not, so long as he could make her his wife, and gain control over her property. What had given him this idea about Cazeneau"s position and plans it is difficult to say; but it was probably his own jealous fears about Mimi, and his deep detestation of his enemy.
And now he began to chafe against the narrow confines of his chamber with greater impatience. He longed to have some one with whom he could talk. He wondered whether Cazeneau would remain here much longer, and, if he went away, whether he would take Mimi or leave her. He wondered, also, whether he would be taken to Louisbourg. He felt as if he would rather go there, if Mimi was to go, even at the risk of his life, than remain behind after she had left. But all his thoughts and wonders resulted in nothing whatever, for it was impossible to create any knowledge out of his own conjectures.
He was in the midst of such thoughts as these when his ears were attracted by the sound of a familiar voice. He listened attentively.
It was the voice of Pere Michel. No sooner had Claude satisfied himself that it was indeed the priest, than he felt sure that he had come here to visit him; and a little longer waiting showed that this was the case. There were advancing footsteps. Madame Comeau opened the door, and Pere Michel entered the chamber. The door was then shut, and the two were alone.
So overcome was Claude by joy that he flung himself into the priest"s arms and embraced him. The good priest seemed to reciprocate his emotion, for there were tears in his eyes, and the first words that he spoke were in tremulous tones.
"My son," the priest commenced, in gentle, paternal tones, and in a voice that was tremulous with emotion, "you must calm yourself."
Then, suddenly speaking in English, he said, "It is necessaire dat we sall spik Ingeles, for ze peuple of ze house may suspeck--"
Upon this Claude poured forth a torrent of questions in English, asking about Laborde, Cazeneau, Zac, and Mimi. It will not be necessary to report the words of the priest in his broken English, but rather to set them down according to the sense of them. So the priest said,--
"You speak too fast, my son. One thing at a time. The poor Laborde is dead and buried. The Count Cazeneau is about to go to Louisbourg.
Mimi is going with him."
"Mimi going with him!" cried Claude, in deep agitation.
"Be calm, my son. Do not speak so loud. I have told the people of this house that your life is in danger, and that I have come as a priest, to hear your last confession. I do not wish them to suspect my real errand. We may talk as we wish, only do not allow yourself to be agitated."
"But tell me," said Claude, in a calmer voice, "how is it possible that Mimi can trust herself with Cazeneau?"
"_Ma foi_," said the priest, "it is possible, for she cannot help it.
But do not fear. I am going to accompany them, and, as far as my feeble power can do anything, I will watch over her, and see that she suffers no injustice. I hope that Heaven will a.s.sist her innocence and my protection; so do not allow yourself to be uneasy about her; but hope for the best, and trust in Heaven."
At this Claude was silent for a few moments. At length he said,--
"O, Pere Michel, must I stay here when she goes? Can you tell me what they are going to do with me?"
"It is about yourself that I am going to speak, and it was for this that I came," said the priest.
"Can I go with the others to Louisbourg?" asked Claude, eagerly; for he thought only of being near Mimi.
"Heaven forbid!" said the priest. "It is in a for different way that you are to go. Listen to me. The Count de Cazeneau is going to set out to-morrow, with a party of Indians as escort. Mimi is to be taken with him. I am going, too. It is his intention to leave you here for a time, till his escort can return. They will then take you to Louisbourg. If he can find any Indians on the way whom he can make use of, he will send them here for you. But meantime you are to be kept imprisoned here.
"Now, I am acquainted with the Indians better than most men. I lived in Acadie formerly, long enough to be well known to the whole tribe.
I am also well known to the Acadians. Among the Indians and the Acadians there are many who would willingly lay down their lives for me. I could have delivered you before this, but I saw that you were not in any immediate danger; so I preferred postponing it until the Count de Cazeneau had left. I do not wish him to suspect that I have any interest in you; and when he hears of your escape, I do not wish him to think that I had anything to do with it. But I have already made all the plans that are necessary, and the men are in this neighborhood with whom I have arranged for your escape."
"What is the plan?" asked Claude, eagerly.
"I will tell you," said the priest. "There are six Indians, all of them devoted to me. They will guide you to a place of safety, and will be perfectly faithful to you as long as they are with you. They are ready to go anywhere with you, to do anything for you, even to the extent of laying down their lives for you. It is for my sake that they are willing to show this devotion. I have presented you to them as my representative, and they look upon you as they would look upon me. But, first of all, you are to get out of this. Can you open that window?"
"It was fastened tight when I first came," said Claude; "but I have loosened it, so that I can take it out very quickly."
"Very good. Now, one of these Indians will be here to-morrow night.
We shall leave to-morrow morning; and I do not want you to be rescued till after our departure. At midnight, to-morrow, then, the Indian will be here. He will give a sound like a frog, immediately outside, under the window. You must then open the window. If you see him, or hear him, you must then get out, and he will take you to the woods.
After that he and the rest of the Indians will take you through the woods to Port Royal, which they call Annapolis Royal. Here you will be safe from Cazeneau until such time as may suit you to go back to Boston. Annapolis Royal is about twenty-four leagues from this place, and you can easily go there in two days."
Claude listened to all this without a word; and, after the priest had ended, he remained silent for some time, with his eyes fixed on the floor.
"The Indians will be armed," said the priest, "and will have a rifle and a sword for you. So you need have no trouble about anything."
"My dear Pere Michel," said Claude, at last, "you lay me under very great obligations; but will you not add to them by allowing me to select my own route?"
"Your own route?" asked the priest. "What do you mean? You don"t know the country, especially the woods, while these Indians will be at home there."
"What I mean is this," said Claude: "will you not allow me the use of this Indian escort in another direction than the one you mention?"
"Another direction? Why, where else can you possibly go? Annapolis is the nearest place for safety."
"I should very much prefer," said Claude "to go to Canso."
"To Canso!" said the priest, in great surprise; "to Canso! Why, you would come on our track!"
"That is the very reason why I wish to go there. Once in Canso, I should be as safe as in Annapolis."
The priest shook his head.