The Refugees. Arthur Conan DoyleЧитать онлайн книгу.
have many calls in Europe.”
“Ah, sire, I would that you could see that great land. When your Majesty has won a campaign over here, what may come of it? Glory, a few miles of land Luxembourg, Strassburg, one more city in the kingdom; but over there, with a tenth of the cost and a hundredth part of the force, there is a world ready to your hand. It is so vast, sire, so rich, so beautiful! Where are there such hills, such forests, such rivers? And it is all for us if we will but take it. Who is there to stand in our way? A few nations of scattered Indians and a thin strip of English farmers and fishermen. Turn your thoughts there, sire, and in a few years you would be able to stand upon your citadel at Quebec, and to say there is one great empire here from the snows of the North to the warm Southern Gulf, and from the waves of the ocean to the great plains beyond Marquette’s river, and the name of this empire is France, and her king is Louis, and her flag is the fleurs-delis.”
Louis’s cheek had flushed at this ambitious picture, and he had leaned forward in his chair, with flashing eyes, but he sank back again as the governor concluded.
“On my word, count,” said he, “you have caught something of this gift of Indian eloquence of which we have heard. But about these English folk. They are Huguenots, are they not?”
“For the most part. Especially in the North.”
“Then it might be a service to Holy Church to send them packing. They have a city there, I am told. New—New—How do they call it?”
“New York, sire. They took it from the Dutch.”
“Ah, New York. And have I not heard of another? Bos—Bos—”
“Boston, sire.”
“That is the name. The harbours might be of service to us. Tell me, now, Frontenac,” lowering his voice so that his words might be audible only to the count, Louvois, and the royal circle, “what force would you need to clear these people out? One regiment, two regiments, and perhaps a frigate or two?”
But the exgovernor shook his grizzled head. “You do not know them, sire,” said he. “They are stern folk, these. We in Canada, with all your gracious help, have found it hard to hold our own. Yet these men have had no help, but only hindrance, with cold and disease, and barren lands, and Indian wars, but they have thriven and multiplied until the woods thin away in front of them like ice in the sun, and their church bells are heard where but yesterday the wolves were howling. They are peaceful folk, and slow to war, but when they have set their hands to it, though they may be slack to begin, they are slacker still to cease. To put New England into your Majesty’s hands, I would ask fifteen thousand of your best troops and twenty ships of the line.”
Louis sprang impatiently from his chair, and caught up his cane. “I wish,” said he, “that you would imitate these people who seem to you to be so formidable, in their excellent habit of doing things for themselves. The matter may stand until our council. Reverend father, it has struck the hour of chapel, and all else may wait until we have paid out duties to heaven.” Taking a missal from the hands of an attendant, he walked as fast as his very high heels would permit him, towards the door, the court forming a lane through which he might pass, and then closing up behind to follow him in order of precedence.
Chapter 3.
The Holding of the Door
Whilst Louis had been affording his court that which he had openly stated to be the highest of human pleasures—the sight of the royal face—the young officer of the guard outside had been very busy passing on the titles of the numerous applicants for admission, and exchanging usually a smile or a few words of greeting with them, for his frank, handsome face was a well-known one at the court. With his merry eyes and his brisk bearing, he looked like a man who was on good terms with Fortune. Indeed, he had good cause to be so, for she had used him well. Three years ago he had been an unknown subaltern bush-fighting with Algonquins and Iroquois in the wilds of Canada. An exchange had brought him back to France and into the regiment of Picardy, but the lucky chance of having seized the bridle of the king’s horse one winter’s day in Fontainebleau when the creature was plunging within a few yards of a deep gravel-pit had done for him what ten campaigns might have failed to accomplish. Now as a trusted officer of the king’s guard, young, gallant, and popular, his lot was indeed an enviable one. And yet, with the strange perversity of human nature, he was already surfeited with the dull if magnificent routine of the king’s household, and looked back with regret to the rougher and freer days of his early service. Even there at the royal door his mind had turned away from the frescoed passage and the groups of courtiers to the wild ravines and foaming rivers of the West, when suddenly his eyes lit upon a face which he had last seen among those very scenes.
“Ah, Monsieur de Frontenac!” he cried. “You cannot have forgotten me.”
“What! De Catinat! Ah, it is a joy indeed to see a face from over the water! But there is a long step between a subaltern in the Carignan and a captain in the guards. You have risen rapidly.”
“Yes; and yet I may be none the happier for it. There are times when I would give it all to be dancing down the Lachine Rapids in a birch canoe, or to see the red and the yellow on those hill-sides once more at the fall of the leaf.”
“Ay,” sighed De Frontenac. “You know that my fortunes have sunk as yours have risen. I have been recalled, and De la Barre is in my place. But there will be a storm there which such a man as he can never stand against. With the Iroquois all dancing the scalp-dance, and Dongan behind them in New York to whoop them on, they will need me, and they will find me waiting when they send. I will see the king now, and try if I cannot rouse him to play the great monarch there as well as here. Had I but his power in my hands, I should change the world’s history.”
“Hush! No treason to the captain of the guard,” cried De Catinat, laughing, while the stern old soldier strode past him into the king’s presence.
A gentleman very richly dressed in black and silver had come up during this short conversation, and advanced, as the door opened, with the assured air of a man whose rights are beyond dispute. Captain de Catinat, however, took a quick step forward, and barred him off from the door.
“I am very sorry, Monsieur de Vivonne,” said he, “but you are forbidden the presence.”
“Forbidden the presence! I? You are mad!” He stepped back with gray face and staring eyes, one shaking hand half raised in protest,
“I assure you that it is his order.”
“But it is incredible. It is a mistake.”
“Very possibly.”
“Then you will let me past.”
“My orders leave me no discretion.”
“If I could have one word with the king.”
“Unfortunately, monsieur, it is impossible.”
“Only one word.”
“It really does not rest with me, monsieur.”
The angry nobleman stamped his foot, and stared at the door as though he had some thoughts of forcing a passage. Then turning on his heel, he hastened away down the corridor with the air of a man who has come to a decision.
“There, now,” grumbled De Catinat to himself, as he pulled at his thick dark moustache, “he is off to make some fresh mischief. I’ll have his sister here presently, as like as not, and a pleasant little choice between breaking my orders and making an enemy of her for life. I’d rather hold Fort Richelieu against the Iroquois than the king’s door against an angry woman. By my faith, here is a lady, as I feared! Ah, Heaven be praised! it is a friend, and not a foe. Good-morning, Mademoiselle Nanon.”
“Good-morning, Captain de Catinat.”
The new-comer was a tall, graceful