The Span o' Life Part 28

CHAPTER XXII

I AM TORTURED BY MYSELF AND OTHERS

In some manner I controlled myself, and in the confusion which followed Lucy's wild cry I opened the door beside me and stepped noiselessly into the adjoining room.

I sank down into a chair, benumbed in body and bewildered in mind.

Everything was in a whirl of confusion, and through it I heard the heart-breaking cry that was no hallucination of madness, no fancy of a disordered mind, but an arraignment straight from the heart of a woman who perhaps had suffered beyond what I was suffering now.

What was happening behind those closed doors? Once the mad impulse flashed across me to enter and learn the worst, but I shrank appalled at the thought of exposing myself to further humiliation. In my seeking for some escape, I even questioned if I had heard aright; it seemed impossible that there should not be some explanation, that there was not some horrible mistake, and a fierce anger swept over me at the injustice of it all.

Had I wasted the love of my youth--the love of my life--on a man whom I had endowed with every n.o.ble quality of which I could conceive to find that he was only of the same common clay as others whose advances I had ignored because I had set him so high?

In my anger I put him beneath all others, because, as a silly girl, I had been blinded by my own delusions, and, as a foolish woman, I had gone on dreaming the dreams of a girl. The thought, too, of Lucy having been so close to me all these months, and of how nearly I had confided in her, stung me like a blow.

And this was the end! I had wasted every affection of my nature in blind wors.h.i.+p of the idol which now lay shattered at the first blow. I had wandered with reckless feet far from the path in which all prudent women tread, to find myself in a wilderness alone and without a refuge. My secret was in the keeping of Sarennes, who would sooner or later betray it, when he thought by so doing he could bend me to his will.

Why had I never looked at this with the same eyes, the same brain I had used in other matters? In other matters I had conducted myself as a reasonable woman should; but in this, the weightiest affair in my life, had I wandered, without sane thought, without any guide save impulses so unreasoning that they could scarce have even swayed my judgment in other things.

Then, my anger having pa.s.sed, I saw the whole incredible folly of my life, and alone and in bitter misery I trod the Valley of Humiliation, until with wearied soul and softened heart I knelt and prayed for deliverance.

When I returned to the house the effort to meet and talk with others did much to restore me to myself. Angelique, I could see, was greatly excited, and it was a pain to think that what to me was a bitter degradation and the wreck of all my hopes could possibly be looked upon by a young and innocent girl as a piece of curious surmisal, perhaps to be laughed over and speculated upon, without a thought of the misery it entailed.

In my room that night I reasoned out my whole position calmly from the beginning, and with a chilling fear I saw myself confronted by a new humiliation.

Had I not in my infatuation misconstrued every little kindness on the part of Hugh, every expression of sympathy and of ordinary courtesy, nay, every smile, and look, and word, into a language which existed only in my credulous imagination? Had he ever spoken a single word of love to me? Had he not even refused to answer my girlish appeal to him at our parting? Was it, then, possible that I was not only in a false position now, but that I had throughout been playing that most contemptible of all roles--the infatuated woman who imagines herself beloved by one indifferent to her? I was overwhelmed with shame at the thought, still, turn it as I might, I could not see that it admitted of any other conclusion.

Yet ignominious as it all was, it must be faced, for it was impossible that I should go on lamenting or living in the misery of constant self-reproach. If I had had the courage to defy the world in my Quixote endeavour to right the supposed wrongs of another, should I not put forth some measure of the same courage to protect myself?

Because I had met with a disaster humbling to my self-respect and pride, surely I was not forced to proclaim my own defeat to the world, and thus add ridicule to humiliation. Cost what it might, I determined to put forth every endeavour to prevent Hugh even suspecting the true motive of my presence in Canada until the time should come when I might return in safety.

It cost me an effort to return to Lucy. I had almost a dislike to see her again, but my pride came to my support, and, when I went, I saw I had exaggerated the difficulty, for I found a different creature awaiting me. Whatever suffering I had gone through, it was clear this poor soul had gained some great relief, and my selfishness was not proof against her content. She had forgotten that I had been beside her when Hugh had entered. The greatness of his revelation, whatever it had been, had swept away all smaller things, and she lay there with a new light in her face, but as quiet and self-contained as before. Had she spoken, I could not have borne it.

My courage in respect to Hugh was not immediately put to the proof, as he had been ordered off to Montreal, there to join M. de Levis as aide-de-camp, and I had both time and freedom for decision.

Much to Angelique's delight, I now accompanied her to all the b.a.l.l.s and junketings that went on, for I had nothing further to fear, and, alas, nothing to hope. M. de Montcalm and the others received me with warm welcome, and made a small ovation over my appearance.

I suffered, however, as is often the case with a newcomer in a small society, from the stupid jealousy of some of the women, who resented my appearance as an intruder, and who more than once started reports as to my position, which were rendered the more persistent on account of the open champions.h.i.+p of M. de Montcalm.

At first I thought little of this petty annoyance, but was not prepared for the length to which some were willing to carry it.

Late one afternoon Angelique burst in upon me in a storm of indignation:

"Marguerite, I am ashamed of my countrywomen! There has been a scene this afternoon at Mme. de Beauba.s.sin's which went beyond all limits of decency. Neither your position as a stranger nor mine as your friend was respected. It is horrible what animals women can be when once they begin! Let me tell you what has happened, and see if I am wrong!

"Mme. de Beauba.s.sin, who cannot bear that any one should have any attraction for the Marquis save herself, made some malicious remark about you before M. Poulariez.

"'O, de grace! madame,' he exclaimed; 'surely you are going too far!'

"'Can you answer for her, then, monsieur?' she returned, wickedly.

'Perhaps you can tell me who la belle ecossaise really is?

"'I will answer for her,' broke in the little Joannes, whom I love, because he is so dreadfully in earnest over everything--'I will answer for her! I lost four hundred good crowns at pharaon last night, but I will wager four hundred more with any lady in the room, or I will cross swords with any gentleman in Quebec, for the fair fame of Mme. de St. Just at any moment. I know that she is intimate with one of the oldest friends of M. de Montcalm, that he knows her family, and I know that she is one of the most charming creatures I ever set eyes on!' Marguerite, I could have kissed him, he was so gallant!

"'Then, M. Joannes, since you are so fully informed, perhaps you will explain the whereabouts of Monsieur de St. Just! Perhaps you will tell us why the lady was so anxious to get into Louisbourg before the siege! Perhaps you know why she went to the ball on Twelfth-Night in disguise! Perhaps it is clear to you why, after refusing to meet any of us, she now goes everywhere, and seeks the confidence of M. de Montcalm and other high officers when the plans for the coming campaign are under discussion! That she is a Scotchwoman she states, but I have not remarked that she is intimate with her countryman, M. de Maxwell, of whose loyalty no one has any doubt.'

"'Neither have I any doubt that Mme. de St. Just has her own reasons for choosing her acquaintance, madame,' answered M. Joannes, with the same spirit. 'But I do not see that anything is to be gained by continuing this conversation; the main thing is that I know Mme.

de St. Just to be a lady of both family and position.'

"'Do you happen to know that her brother is a captain in the English army?'

"'I have known it for mouths past, madame. What of it'

"'And that he was a prisoner in Louisbourg?'

"'Certainly; no secret has been made of it,' he answered, as cool as a boy at his catechism.

"She seemed much put but at this rebuff, but turned towards the others and went on, angrily:

"'Of course a woman has no right to an opinion in the face of such an authority as M. Joannes, but I am sure so patriotic a brother will be interested in such a sister's letters, and that the authentic news she may send from Quebec cannot fail to be of interest to his superiors. It may be the part of an affectionate sister, ambitious for her brother's advancement, but hardly that of a friend to be encouraged by us. There! That is what I believe; and if you others are too blind to see behind a pretty face and a disconsolate manner, so much the worse for us all.'

"Marguerite, my dear, there wasn't a man in the room who didn't protest against her ungenerous suspicions. I was proud of them all! But none of the women said a word, and the spiteful little creature stuck to her ground, vowing she would speak to the Marquis, so that he, at least, should not be unwarned.

"I waited until she was done, for I was determined to hear the end, and then I said:

"'Mme. de Beauba.s.sin, I have not spoken because I am only a girl, and neither my mother's hospitality, nor my mother's guest, requires any defence from me; I trust both implicitly. Our thanks and those of Mme. de St. Just, our friend, are due to every gentleman in the room. I was under some obligation to you, madame, for your attentions to me in the past, but you have more than cancelled them now, and I will not enter your door again until you have apologised to us all.'

"'My dear child,' she said, with her hateful smile, 'you are young, but time will correct that, as well as your breeding and your judgment; until then I shall miss your society, but will pray for your enlightenment.'

"Did you ever hear anything so abominable! M. Poulariez gave me his hand, and the dear little Joannes followed us to the door, whispering:

"'Brava! Brava, mademoiselle! It was excellent! You could not have said better!'

"Now what will you do, Marguerite?"

"There is nothing to do, cherie; such things must die of themselves."

"But she said you were a spy, in so many words."

"You do not think so?"

"Oh, Marguerite!" she cried, as she jumped up and strained me to her, covering me with kisses.

"Well, neither does your mother, nor M. de Montcalm, nor any of the gentlemen who defended me this afternoon. My only regret is that I should be the cause of annoyance to such friends."

Though I spake bravely enough, I could not but feel the effect of such a report, nor fail to recognise there was oftentimes a galling restraint on my appearance, which was only aggravated by the too evident efforts of my champions towards its dissipation.

But all such social jealousies and plottings were scattered by the approach of spring, when an unending activity pervaded all cla.s.ses throughout the colony. The arrival of the first s.h.i.+ps was looked for with anxiety, as they would bring the message of peace, or renewed hostilities, which to me meant either escape or a continuance of my difficulties.

It was M. Joannes who brought me the news: