CHAPTER XIII
LETTERS AND SOME COMMENTS
"Do you realize that we have only a day or two longer in Annapolis?"asked Amy, one soft afternoon in July, as she sat with Martine andPriscilla within the walls of the old fort.
Mrs. Redmond, seated some distance from them, was sketching a bit offar-off shore that came within her range of view. Martine had her handsfolded idly in her lap, though the sketching-block and materials thatlay beside her showed that at least she had made some pretence of workthat day.
"Yes, I realize it all too well," she responded. "I wish we could stayhere all summer."
"It has been so much pleasanter since we knew the Airtons that we shallfind it very hard to go," added Priscilla.
"Of course we might stay here the rest of the summer," replied Amy,"only, since we had a definite route planned out it would be a pity notto follow it."
"The other places may be very stupid," murmured Martine.
"Not Grand Pre," rejoined Priscilla. "You'll probably enjoy that farbetter than Annapolis; you seem to forget that it is full of memories ofthe expelled Acadians."
"Oh, yes, the Acadians; but do you know they don't seem half soimportant to me as they did when we were in Clare. I've really growntremendously interested in those first Frenchmen, who had such anunlucky time here at Port Royal. Annapolis has memories enough for me."
"What a fickle creature you are, Martine! Surely you haven't forgottenYvonne."
"No, no," and Martine sprang to her feet. "I'm only waiting for a letterfrom my father and then you shall know what is going to happen toYvonne. Why, I've written her three times since I left Meteghan; Ithought you knew that, Amy."
"Yes, but don't excite yourself unduly, child; only, when you expressedyour indifference to Acadians I wondered whom you included. Nothingwould make me forget little Pierre. Here's a letter that I received fromhim to-day."
Amy drew from her pocket a half-sheet of paper and read its contents toher friends:--
"'MY DEAR MADEMOISELLE, AMY REDMOND,--It gives me great pleasure to think that you and your beautiful mother and the charming young ladies like so well our historic Annapolis. I once it visited with my uncle, to view the fort that was built in the days of the greatness of Acadia; it was sad to me to know that now it belongs to the cruel English, who drove my ancestors from their happy homes. When I am a learned man, I shall teach history in a great school, and I will write books to make all know the truth; but now I am only a little boy, and I thank you for your letter and the book you sent me that will ever keep your lovely face fresh in my mind. So with her best duty from my mother, I subscribe myself,
"'Your humble friend, "'PIERRE ROBICHAUD.
"'P. S. Please write soon again.'"
Martine and Priscilla smiled at the quaint letter, with its curiousmingling of pride and humility and its touch of French gallantry.
"Pierre seems quite sure of his own future,"--and Amy replaced the sheetin her pocket. "With his aim so firmly in view, it's quite probable thathe'll attain his ambition."
"'Best duty,'" observed Priscilla, "isn't that a strange expression?"
"It certainly isn't French; he has picked it up from some of the 'cruel'English."
"He probably had an old-fashioned school-teacher at some time. I hopethat we'll see both Pierre and Yvonne before we return home; but now wemust keep our minds on Annapolis. I'm so afraid that you haven't got allyou might of its history."
"Oh, my dear Amy, Priscilla is just brimful of the Loyalists and theirsufferings; you ought to hear some of the stories that she has gatheredup. Show her your note-book, Priscilla."
Priscilla reddened and shook her head, while Martine continued:
"And as for me, I'm so charged with historical associations that I feelas if I'd give them out in electric sparks if any one should rub me theright way. Of course I know that this is not the original French fort,but when one is dreaming, she needn't be so very particular about facts;so if I shut my eyes, here on this very spot," and Martine suited theaction to the word, "I can see Poutrincourt and Lescarbot and all theothers who were here that long winter when De Monts had gone back toFrance, leaving Pontgrave in charge. I just imagine that the oldbarracks over there is the great hall where they used to have theirfeasts, and I can see them all marching in with the fifteen gentlemen atthe head who sat at Poutrincourt's table, the Grand Master strutting infront, with his staff of office in his hand and his napkin over hisshoulder. L'Ordre de Bon Temps--that was a capital idea of Lescarbot's,to keep them all in good spirits and make each man think himself ofsupreme importance for a day."
"Tell me about it," said Priscilla. "If I ever knew, I believe I'veforgotten what it was."
"That's it, my dear; you have been so very full of the much lessimportant English history of Annapolis that you've overlooked the moreromantic French." Then pointing toward the Basin, Martine chanted:
"'Sing on, wild sea, your sad refrain, For all the gallant sons of France Whose songs and sufferings enhance The romance of the western main.'"
"Well, if this is a wild sea I wonder what you'd call the Bay of Fundy,"said Amy, laughing.
"Oh, dear! You are so very practical; but I can't argue with you now,for I must make Priscilla understand just what 'The Order of the GoodTime' was. During the long winter Lescarbot suggested that each of thefifteen gentlemen of greatest importance in the settlement should beappointed caterer for a day at a time; so they took turns, and each onetried to outdo the others in providing as many delicacies as possible.The steward of the day was called the Grand Master, and fish and gamewere so abundant here that often the table was supplied with food thatthe King of France might have envied. In order to keep up their dignity,they all observed a very formal ceremony, entering the hall at each mealjust as I told you a little while ago. At the close of the day, aftergrace, the Grand Master removed his collar and placed it on the neck ofthe one who was to do duty the next day, while they drank each other'shealth in wine and recited appropriate verses. No wonder the Indiansthought it great sport to watch the white men dine, for they crowded thehall at every meal, and Membertou, their Chief, was often at theGovernor's table."
"I hope the other Indians had something to eat."
"Oh, yes indeed; they were always well fed by the French, and welltreated; so that from the very beginning the French and Indians were onthe very friendliest terms."
"You must have done a deal of reading, Martine, you know your subject sowell," said Amy, quizzically.
"Oh, I haven't read so much," she began.
"No, it's all Balfour Airton," interposed Priscilla. "He talks like abook, and he's discovered that he can make Martine listen to him."
"Any one would like to listen to him," rejoined Martine, "and I'm gladto say that though he is of English descent, he doesn't consider theEnglish absolutely perfect."
"There, there," said Amy, throwing oil on the waters, "our acquaintancewith the Airtons has certainly added to the pleasure of us all. Balfourseems a plucky fellow, for it can't be particularly pleasant to him toserve as a grocer's clerk in the summer holidays."
"But he needs the money."
"Oh, yes, Martine; but I know boys who would remain idle rather than dowork that they thought a little beneath them."
"To tell you the truth," added Priscilla, "I'm afraid that the Airtonshave very little money indeed. Eunice says that there's a mortgage ontheir house, and that they may have to give it up before long. Balfourhas offered to stay out of college and look for work in Halifax, but hismother will not listen to this; she wishes him to be a lawyer like hisgrandfather."
"He has a scholarship at college, and he earns more or less money allthe year, so that really his education costs his family nothing."
"I fear our conversation is too personal," interrupted Amy, "though ithas certainly been a pleasure to meet two people so free fromself-consciousness as Eunice and Balfour. That rem
inds me," concludedAmy, "that I had a letter to-day from my friend Brenda, Mrs. Weston. Sheis surprised that we find so much to interest us in Nova Scotia. Shemade a trip this way one summer with her parents, but they travelledrather hurriedly through the province and made their longest stay atHalifax."
"Oh, Halifax," interrupted Martine. "Nothing but English; only fancy,"with a true English accent, and she raised her hand toward her eye as ifholding a monocle. "If there's anything in the world I dislike, it's thereal English. Excuse me, Priscilla; I did not mean to hurt yourfeelings."
"My feelings? Why, I'm no more English than you are, Martine. You won'tdeny that you have some English blood in your veins?"
"Unluckily, I can't deny it; but I'm glad that they named me Martine;that at least is un-English."
"It certainly is a queer name."
"Not queer at all, Priscilla. My grandfather was Martin, and Martine isthe French feminine for it. If I'd been a boy, I would have been namedMartin. Unluckily I wasn't, and so Martine was the best that could bedone. My elder brother had been named for my father; Lucian, you know,is his name. I never heard any one else call 'Martine' a queer name;"and the Chicago girl turned away petulantly.
Noting again the signs of a coming storm, already too frequent on thistrip, Amy hastened to change the subject.
"I don't know why I should have so many letters in my pocket to-day, butsince I brought my mail with me, let me read you a little from Brenda'sletter; you know her, Priscilla?"
"Yes, indeed."
"Oh, Brenda,--Mrs. Weston," cried Martine, eagerly, all trace ofannoyance disappearing from her face and voice. "I've never talked withher, but I've seen her several times; I think she's just fine. She isn'ta bit prim and stiff like most Bostonians. Why, she has as much style asa Chicago girl."
"My dear," interposed Amy, "remember that Priscilla and I are from theneighborhood of Boston."
"Oh, yes, but you don't set up for style--there, I don't mean that, ofcourse; I only mean--"
But Martine was getting herself into deep water, and her flounderingamused Amy, although she maintained a grave face, as she said:
"Style is not confined to dress; other things are considered just asimportant by the true critic. However, I'm glad that you admire Brenda,for you'll be the more interested in her letter.
"'Your account of what you have seen in Nova Scotia is perfectly fascinating. But you haven't told me how you like those funny little brown fish that they call Digby chickens, that have a flavor made up of smoked ham and salt cod; you can fancy how surprised I was when I ordered them, for I thought they'd be real chickens. We didn't see any French in Nova Scotia; I can't imagine where you found them. Are they the real thing? or do they speak with a Stratford atte Bow accent?
"'How different this summer is from last, when we were all so worried about Arthur and the Spanish War,--at least, I was. It is just a year since I was so very ill, and now I am perfectly happy. I feel quite ridiculous when they ask me to chaperone parties of girls who are older than I until I remember that I am really an old married woman and quite settled.
"'It is all I can do to prevent Arthur's going to the Philippines; he really has the war fever, and I wonder what will come of it all. Next month he is to make an address at some reunion of Spanish War Veterans; doesn't it seem absurd to call him a veteran? Tim McSorley is at Manila. Maggie is down here at Rockley with us this summer, and you haven't an idea how useful she is. My mother says that the way she does things is recommendation enough for the Mansion School, and that if Julia needed to earn money she would make a small fortune training girls.
"'I had a letter yesterday from Happy Hill,--you know that's the name of the farm where she has the girls this summer. They are nearly all new girls, who do not interest me as much as the others who were there my year. Norah is with Julia this summer; but there, I'm telling you things that are no news to you, and in fact I have very little news of any kind to write; but I hope you'll give my love to your mother and Priscilla, and Miss Stratford and I only hope that you are as strict with them as you can be some times, when you want people to get all the information they can out of a trip.
"'Oh, that reminds me. I hear that Fritz Tomkins is in Nova Scotia; you do not mention him in your letter, but you must be delighted to have him with you. Of course four women can get along perfectly well, but if anything should happen, it is so much better to have a man in your party; and Fritz is so like a brother that I'm sure you can make him very useful. With love to all,
"'Sincerely, "'BRENDA WESTON.'"
Amy had read the whole letter aloud without realizing how personal itwas, for her original intention had been only to read that part relatingto Nova Scotia.
"That sounds just like Brenda," she said to the girls, "and I'm gladthat she's so happy, for last summer was a miserable one for her."
"It was for all of us," murmured Priscilla.
And then Amy suddenly realized that the Spanish War was a subject toosore for her to touch on in Priscilla's presence.
"Come," she said, "one last look at old Port Royal. We shall haveseveral farewell calls to pay to-day and to-morrow, and we may not havetime to return to the Fort."
"Amy," said Martine, "I know I'm very stupid, but I'd really like toknow where Port Royal ends and Fort Anne begins. Some one told me thatthis is really Fort Anne, but you always speak of it as Port Royal; sojust to gratify my curiosity I'm willing to listen to a little morehistory."
"Then I'll give you as much, or rather as little, as I can to make youunderstand some of the happenings at this Fort in the early days. I amsorry that I cannot go at all into details about the many sieges andexpeditions against the Fort in the seventeenth century. The quarrels ofD'Aunay and Charles de La Tour form a most exciting series of episodes,and you must read them at length in Parkman or some other history.Although theirs was not warfare between French and English, La Tour wasa Huguenot, and in a general way the English were on his side. In fact,he once came down to Boston and interested Winthrop and others in hiscause. In the end I suppose La Tour may be considered to have been theconqueror; at least, he survived D'Aunay, and later married for hissecond wife D'Aunay's widow. Port Royal was captured by Cromwell's fleetin 1654, and a few years later, in the reign of Charles II, was givenback to France. In 1690, when England and France were again at war, DeMenneval, the governor of the Fort, had to surrender to Sir WilliamPhipps, and the account of this expedition you will surely readsometime, for Phipps was a New Englander and his career mostinteresting."
"The New Englanders seem to have had a special spite against Acadia,"said Martine; "so it isn't strange, Priscilla, that you have inheritedpart of it."
"Oh, no, I haven't; only if I must choose I naturally prefer what isEnglish to what is French."
"After all that Phipps thought he had accomplished," continued Amy,"Acadia was again handed back to France; but I will pass over otherattacks to remind you of what you have doubtless read many times in yourschool histories, that, when the Treaty of Utrecht settled the warsbetween Queen Anne and Louis XIV, Acadia was given to the English. Sincethat time the fort has been Fort Anne and the town Annapolis."
"It's no wonder," said Martine, "that the Acadians hardly knew whom toobey, when they'd been handed over from one side to another so often."
"This does account for much of the misunderstanding that finally led totheir deportation. They trusted too implicitly in the French King, andfor a long time vainly hoped that he would conquer the English and makethem again his subjects."
Hardly had Amy finished when a boyish voice was heard crying,"Good-morning, good-morning. Is it really true that you're startingNorth to-day?"
"No, not to-day; we have still a day or two left before we set out forGrand Pre; we are going over to see your mother this afternoon."
"I'm glad of that,"
responded Balfour, "for I'm to have a day off, orrather an afternoon, and I wanted to be sure of your plans."
Balfour did not explain that he had asked for this special holiday inorder to have some time with his new friends.
"You won't spend the whole afternoon with my mother," he beganawkwardly,--"at least, not all of you,--and so I thought that perhapssome of you would go for a drive with me."
"I am going to stay with Eunice," said Priscilla; "it will be our lastday together."
Martine said nothing.
Then Balfour turned to Amy:
"Would not you and Miss Martine drive with me? I can take you to one ortwo out-of-the-way places that you probably haven't visited."
"Surely," responded Amy, "that will be delightful. I can go, and withpleasure. As for Martine, she must speak for herself."
Amy had no doubt as to Martine's desire, so that it was hardly necessaryfor her to await a reply.
"Why, of course," replied Martine; "there's nothing I'd like so well."