Part 25 (2/2)

”Have I good blood in my veins, sir?” cried Sally, twisting her pointed fingers in an eager, nervous way.

”Aye, the best of blood, dear child, and the will of an iron-nerved forefather. I hurried out last night for that man of the law, Sir Gaspard Culpeper, that he might witness to what the poor misguided woman had to say, and wis.h.i.+ng G.o.d's mercy for myself as well as for all others, I have it in my heart to admit that ignorance had much to do with the great mistakes of Mistress Brace and her dealings.

”Hast thou ever seen this name before, Maid Sally? Look well upon it, and try to remember.”

Sally looked at the paper the parson handed her, and the rich blood spread over her face.

”Speak truth, child,” said the parson.

”I did indeed see that name once, both on a cape and in a letter that lay in a little trunk at Mistress Brace's,” said Sally, ”and--and--”

”Speak out without fear,” said Parson Kendall, as Sally groped for words; ”much depends on my having a clear understanding of all thou canst tell.”

Then Sally told of the soldier who had thrust his card into her bended arm.

”It was the same queer name,” said Sally.

”Dost know what language it would belong to, young maid?” and the grave parson smiled.

”The soldier I think was French,” said the maiden, a droop of disappointment in her voice. ”I fear me the name must be French also.”

”Spell it, and then p.r.o.nounce it,” said the parson.

And Sally spelled, then p.r.o.nounced:

”'D-u-q-u-e-s-n-e, Doo-_kane_.'”

”You need feel nought but pride at bearing that ancient name!” cried Parson Kendall. ”No more n.o.ble officer hath the French navy ever known than the fearless, distinguished commander who once bore it. A marquis, child, a French n.o.bleman! A Protestant, who conquered Spanish, Danes, and Dutch during his splendid career.

”Hast not thou felt the will of thine ancestor, stirring thee to make the most of thyself? Hast thou not felt within thee a craving for the best things in life? Hast not thou pushed thy way up to those better things?”

”Yes, oh, yes!” burst forth Maid Sally, with a great shuddering sob. ”I felt it! I almost knew it! My good Fairy felt it must be so!”

”Your good Fairy?” The parson looked amazed.

”Yes,” cried Sally, for to the winds went all fear of letting the kind parson know what was in her heart, and what had been one great comfort of her poor little life.

”Yes, my good Fairy, sir. I talked with another part of myself and found help in pretending a Fairy dwelt in my soul. My poorer self was one part of me, the good Fairy the other. And the good Fairy did hearten and comfort me.”

”One was Sally Dukeen,” and the parson smiled most pleasantly, ”the other was Sara Doo-kane. Strange how the accent of but one letter can change a name. I fancy it was Mistress Brace's incorrect way of calling it.

”But there is more for you to know. Your mother was an English lady, also of excellent birth, but on the way to this country with your father, to seek a better fortune, she died.

”Now very early this morning I sought out the soldier, Officer Duquesne, of whom you have told me and of whom I have heard. And although I know him to be a very different man from your ancestor of nearly a hundred years ago, and his also, and fighting I hold on the wrong side, he yet told me some things I was pleased to know.

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