The Grey Cloak - Page 193/256

"Now, what may he want?" asked Anne, in a whisper.

"You are going for a row upon the river?" asked Brother Jacques,

respectfully.

"Yes, Brother Jacques," replied Anne. "Is not the water beautiful and

inviting?"

"I would not venture far," he said. "Iroquois have been reported in

the vicinity of Orléans."

"We intend to row as far as Sillery and back. There can be no danger

in that."

Brother Jacques looked doubtful.

"And are not the Iroquois our friends?" asked madame. "Are not

Frenchmen building a city in the heart of their kingdom?"

Brother Jacques smiled sadly. "Madame, I should not be surprised to

learn on the morrow that the expedition to Onondaga had already been

exterminated."

"You, of all persons, should be loyal to the Indian," replied Anne,

arranging the mats in the bottom of the boat.

"Mademoiselle, I know him thoroughly. That is why I undertake to warn

you. The rattlesnake which you dread is less terrible to me than the

Iroquois. My duty, not my inclination, makes me walk among them."

"We promise not to go beyond sight of the warehouses."

"Come with us," said Anne. "We will read to you and you will in turn

tell us the legend of Hiawatha, so long delayed."

"If madame is agreeable," replied the priest, his heart beating a

trifle faster than normal: he was human, and these two women were

beautiful.

"Come with us, by all means," said madame graciously.

"You will sit in the stern, Gabrielle," said the admiral's

granddaughter; "I shall sit on the mat, as the Indian says, and Brother

Jacques shall take the oars. And take care that we do not run away

with you."

"I am not afraid," returned Brother Jacques, a secret happiness

possessing him. "Besides, I can swim." He recognized the danger of

beauty in close proximity, but he unwisely forgot the dangers of time

and place. How much rarer the world becomes to the man who has seen

flower gardens and beautiful women moving to and fro among them! Ah,

that ragged, rugged highway which he had traversed: dry crusts of life,

buffets, bramble, curses and mockery. And here was realized one of his

idle dreams. He took a dozen long strokes, which sent the craft up

stream in the direction of Sillery, and let the oars drift. "You were

to read a book?" he asked.

"It would burn your godly ears," said madame: "Malherbe."

"I have read him," quietly.

"What? Oh, fie, Monsieur le Jesuit!" And madame laughed at his

confusion.

"When I was eighteen. That was before I took the orders." He picked

up the oars again and pulled strongly and noiselessly. His thought was

far away just then: when he was eighteen.

Anne, with her shoulders resting against madame's knees, opened the

book which Victor had given her on a Sunday the year before. Sometimes

Brother Jacques's stroke beat rhythmically with the measures; sometimes

the oars trailed through the water with a low, sweet murmur. He could

see nothing but those two fair faces.