Part 23 (1/2)
”My lady, I am one more man. And I will now take charge of the defense.”
”And what could I say to my lord if you were killed?--you, the friend of his house, the soldier who lately came with such hopes to Acadia. Our fortunes do you harm enough, Edelwald. I could never face my lord again without you and his men.”
”Sieur Charles loves me well enough to trust me with his most dangerous affairs, my lady. The keeping of this fortress shall be one of them.”
”O Edelwald, go away from me now!” she cried out piteously. He dropped his head and turned on the instant. The women met him and the children hung to him; and that little being who was neither woman nor child so resented the noise which they made about him as he approached her table that she took her mandolin and swept them out of her way.
”How fares Shubenacadie?” he inquired over the claw she presented to him.
”Shubenacadie's feathers are curdled. He hath greatly soured. Confess me and give me thy benediction, Father Edelwald for I have sinned.”
”Not since I took these orders, I hope,” said Edelwald. ”As a Capuchin I am only an hour old.”
”Within the hour, then, I have beaten my swan, bred a quarrel amongst these sp.a.w.n of the common soldier, and wished a woman hanged.”
”A naughty list,” said Edelwald.
”Yes, but lying is worse than any of these. Lying doth make the soul sick.”
”How do you know that?”
”I have tried it,” said Le Rossignol. ”Many a time have I tried it.
Scarce half an hour ago I told her forlorn old highness that the fort was surely taken this time, and I think she hath buried herself in her chest.”
”Edelwald,” said a voice from the tapestried pavilion. Lady Dorinda's head and hand appeared, with the curtains drawn behind them.
As the soldier bent to his service upon the hand of the old maid of honor, she exclaimed whimsically,--
”What, Edelwald! Are our fortunes at such ebb that you are taking to a Romish cloister?”
”No cloister for me. Your ladys.h.i.+p sees only a cover which I think of rendering to its owner again. He may not have a second capote in the world, being friar extraordinary to D'Aulnay de Charnisay, who is notable for seizing other men's goods.”
”Edelwald, you bring ill news?”
”There was none other to bring.”
”Is Charles La Tour then in such straits that we are to have no relief in this fortress?”
”We can look for nothing, Lady Dorinda.”
”Thou seest now, Edelwald, how France requites his service. If he had listened to his father he might to-day be second to none in Acadia, with men and wealth in abundance.”
”Yet, your ladys.h.i.+p, we love our France!”
”Oh, you do put me out of patience! But the discomforts and perils of this siege have scarce left me any. We are walled together here like sheep.”
”It is trying, your ladys.h.i.+p, but if we succeed in keeping the butcher out we may do better presently.”
Marie sent her woman for writing tools, and was busy with them when Edelwald returned in his ordinary rich dark dress. She made him a place beside her on the settle, and submitted the paper to his eye. The women and children listened. They knew their situation was desperate.
Whispering together they decided with their lady that she would do best to save her soldiers and sacrifice the fort.