Part 7 (1/2)
One window high in the wall showed the misty darkness which lay upon Fundy Bay. The room was chilly.
”Monsieur Corlaer is gone, Antonia,” said Marie.
Antonia's shadow leaped, magnifying the young Dutchwoman's start.
”Madame, you have not sent him off on his journey in the night?”
”I sent him not. I begged him to remain. But he had such cold welcome from his own countrywoman that he chose the woods rather than the hospitality of Fort St. John.”
Much as Antonia stirred and clinked flasks, her sobs grew audible behind the screen. She ran out with her arms extended and threw herself on the floor at Marie's knees, transformed by anguish. Marie in full compa.s.sion drew the girlish creature to her breast, repenting herself while Antonia wept and shook.
”I was cruel to say Monsieur Corlaer is gone. He has only left the fortress to camp with his men at the falls. He will be here two more days, and to-morrow you must urge him to stay our guest.”
”Madame, I dare not see him at all!”
”But why should you not see Monsieur Corlaer?”
Antonia settled to the floor and rested her head and arms on her friend's lap.
”For you love him.”
”O madame! I did not show that I loved him? No. It would be horrible for me to love him.”
”What has he done? And it is plain he has come to court you.”
”He has long courted me, madame.”
”And you met him as a stranger and fled from him as a wolf!--this Hollandais gentleman who hath saved our French people--even priests--from the savages!”
”All New Amsterdam and Fort Orange hold him in esteem,” said Antonia, betraying pride. ”I have heard he can do more with the Iroquois tribes than any other man of the New World.” She uselessly wiped her eyes. She was weak from long crying.
”Then why do you run from him?”
”Because he hath too witching a power on me, madame. I cannot spin or knit or sew when he is by; I must needs watch every motion of his if he once fastens my eyes.”
”I have noticed he draws one's heart,” laughed Marie.
”He does. It is like witchcraft. He sets me afloat so that I lose my feet and have scarce any will of my own. I never was so disturbed by my husband Jonas Bronck,” complained Antonia.
”Did you love your husband?” inquired Marie.
”We always love our husbands, madame. Mynheer Bronck was very good to me.”
”You have never told me much of Monsieur Bronck, Antonia.”
”I don't like to speak of him now, madame. It makes me s.h.i.+ver.”
”You are not afraid of the dead?”
”I was never afraid of him living. I regarded him as a father.”