CHAPTER II
LOST AND FOUND
Amy's face was flushed, her hat slightly askew, and she felt even moreuncomfortable than she looked. It was all on account of her lost keys.For ten minutes or more she had been bending over boxes, and pokingamong all kinds of things in the shed near the wharf, in the vain hopethat she might find what she had lost. When she had discovered that thekeys were missing, Priscilla volunteered to help her find them.
As the discovery had been made at the very moment when the carriage wasat the door to take them for an afternoon drive, Amy insisted that theothers should go without her, since it was evidently her duty to searchfor the missing.
"Let me go with you," Priscilla had urged. "When we find the keys we cango sightseeing by ourselves. It will be just as good fun as driving."Thus Amy and Priscilla made their way by themselves to the wharf, whileMrs. Redmond and Martine were driven in the direction of Milton.
"It wouldn't be so bad if it were only my trunk key," Amy had lamented,"but there's a key of my mother's on the chain, and several keys oflittle boxes--one or two of which I have with me; the others are athome. I am always losing keys."
"You probably lost them after your trunk had been examined this morning.What a fuss about nothing it was! Why, the inspector didn't even liftthe tray from my trunk. But we had all the trouble of unlocking andopening our trunks, and in that way I suppose the keys were lost."
Priscilla spoke with more energy than was usual with her. When theyreached the wharf, the dignified Custom-House official and the smallboys congregated there and in the neighborhood of the train knew nothingabout the keys. The inspector remembered seeing them.
"I noticed your party particularly, and you were swinging your keys by along silver chain. Well, they may have slipped through a cracksomewhere, and so the best thing for you is to get a locksmith to fit akey before you go any farther."
Overhearing this advice, one or two of the boys lounging about offeredto guide the young ladies to a locksmith. Thus Amy and Priscilla, not inthe best of spirits, with hats askew and shirt-waists somewhat rumpled,came face to face with Fritz Tomkins.
"Oh, ho!" he cried mischievously, as the girls drew near. "What aprocession! All you need is a drum and a flag."
Turning her head, Amy saw six little boys walking behind her in Indianfile. There wasn't much going on at the wharf, and evidently all hadthought that there would be some fun in conducting the American youngladies to the locksmith's.
Fritz himself, seated in the shade at a shop-door, looked aggravatinglycomfortable.
"Why, Fritz!" exclaimed Amy, "I thought you were miles and milesaway,--at Pubnico."
"Don't, don't show your disappointment too plainly. We thought that we'dbetter not start before the train was ready. That will not be for anhour yet. In the meantime, is there anything that I can do for you? Youlook a little like a lady in distress."
"Well, then, appearances are deceitful." Amy had recovered from herastonishment at seeing Fritz.
"I am sure that you are hunting for something."
"Why are you so sure?" Amy was determined not to tell.
"She _is_ looking for something, isn't she, Priscilla?" Fritz had seenmore or less of Priscilla in Boston the past winter, and naturallycalled her by her first name.
Priscilla shook her head,--not in dissent, but to show that she had nointention of disclosing more than Amy herself chose to explain.
"Very well," continued Fritz, "I am a mind reader. I can tell you allabout it. You are looking for a bunch of keys."
"How did you know?" For once Amy was off guard.
"Ah! Then it's true."
"Very well, since you know so much, where are the keys?"
Fritz, thrusting his hand in his pocket, drew out a long silver chain,which he swung around his head in a circle before laying it in Amy'shand.
"There, little boys, you--"
"Don't call them little boys, Amy; remember how I felt when I was ten."
"Here, young men." As Fritz spoke the boys drew nearer, and Fritz,drawing from his pocket a handful of silver, laid in each of six palms abright ten-cent coin with the Queen's head stamped upon it.
"But we didn't do anything," one of the six managed to say.
"No, but you _would_ have helped the young lady find a locksmith, andbesides, you brought her to the particular spot where I was sitting, andso you found her keys for her."
This logic was so correct that the six boys, feeling that they hadearned the money, rushed off with a shout of "Thank you," to find thequickest way of spending it.
"You might have brought the keys to the hotel," complained Amy. "Then Ineedn't have had this dusty walk."
"After the summary way in which you banished me this morning I certainlycould not put myself in your way again. But I knew that when you came todress for the afternoon you would miss your keys, and happen _my_ way.Surely you can't object to my being here?"
"Of course not. I am very much obliged to you."
"Besides, I found the keys only this afternoon. They had slipped under aboard, and when I saw the end of the chain I recognized it at once. MayI walk with you part way up-town? I'm sorry that I can't go all the way.But Taps and I have an errand to do, and it's now within an hour oftrain time. Remember, you have banished us."
As they walked, Fritz, abandoning frivolity, outlined his plans for thenext week. Priscilla listened with great interest. Nova Scotia wasindeed a new land to her, and as she had rather suddenly decided toaccompany Amy and her mother she had read nothing on the subject of theprovince in which they were to spend a few weeks.
Fritz had known little more than Priscilla until he had stumbled on someone crossing on the boat the preceding night who had had much to sayabout the old Fort La Tour and its neighborhood.
"Fort La Tour!" Amy exclaimed. "I shouldn't care to discredit yourhistory, but I am sure that that was on the River St. John across theBay, in quite the opposite direction from where you are going."
"There, there, my dear Miss Amy Redmond, you are just like other people.Because you know _some_ Acadian history you think that you know it all.There certainly was a Fort La Tour at St. John, but its remains, I hear,are altogether invisible now; whereas the first Fort La Tour can stillbe seen in outline, at least. There isn't any masonry, I believe, yetyou can trace the outline in the grass. You remember, Amy, it was oncecalled Fort Lomeron."
"I'm sorry, Fritz, but I don't remember. You must have taken a specialcourse in history lately."
"Yes, this very morning. You see I had time to spare after you sent meinto exile, and Taps and I were to have our dinner at a privateboarding-house, where I thought we ought to stay, since you didn't careto have us at the hotel. Well, to make a long story short, I found a setof Parkman there, and it seemed wise to refresh my memory before goingdown to Port La Tour."
"Do tell us what you learned." Amy spoke eagerly. "I'll admit that I'vequite forgotten the first Fort La Tour."
"I haven't much time now," said Fritz, "but I'll do what I can to makemy knowledge yours,--only you mustn't expect me to be perfectlyaccurate. This, however, is the way I figure it out. After that oldrascal, Argall, attacked Port Royal, in 1613, Biencourt, orPoutrincourt, as he was known after his father's death, wandered foryears in the woods with a few followers, sleeping in the open air, andliving on roots and nuts like an Indian. In some way or other he managedto get men enough, and material enough, to build a small fort in theCape Sable region, that he called Fort Lomeron,--a rocky and foggyneighborhood. But there was fine fishing and hunting, and he felt thatthe Fort was a warning to any enemies who might try to take away therest of what his father had left him. Well, among his followers wasyoung Charles de Saint Etienne de La Tour, who also had come out toAcadia as a boy. When Biencourt died La Tour claimed that Acadia hadbeen left to him by his friend. He tried to get Louis XIII. to help himagainst the English, and against Sir William Alexander in particular, towhom James I. had granted Acadia. Now young Charles La Tour beg
an tohave a hard time because his father Claude had married a Maid of Honorto Queen Henrietta Maria, and had promised Charles I. that he woulddrive out the French and establish the English in Nova Scotia. But whenClaude appeared with his two ships before his son's Fort, he could notpersuade him to turn color and become a Baronet of Nova Scotia. Thefather made great promises in the name of King Charles if the son wouldsurrender, but the son withstood the father, and the latter lost Englishsupport because he had not been able to keep his promise; and so he wasnothing but a refugee the rest of his life."
"Served him right for deserting his country," murmured Priscilla.
"Well, it's hard to understand just who did what in those days, and why.Some say that Charles La Tour was no better than his father, and thathe, too, accepted from the English the title 'Baronet of Nova Scotia.'On account of the conquest of Sir David Kirke, Nova Scotia was Englishfor a while, and then again it was under the control of the French afterClaude de Razilly brought out an expedition in 1632. Charles de Menoud'Aunay, by the way, La Tour's great enemy, came with Razilly. But LaTour made haste to put himself right with the King of France, and, aftera visit to Paris, came back to Nova Scotia 'Lieutenant-General for theKing at Fort Lomeron and its dependencies, and Commander at Cape Sablefor the Colony of New France.' Doesn't that strike you as quitetremendous, when you think of the rocks and the fogs and the seals,together with the forests, that chiefly made up his domain?"
"It's very interesting," said Priscilla. "What became of La Tour?"
"It's a long story," responded Fritz. "I'm afraid I haven't time to tellit now."
"Oh, I know all about his quarrel with D'Aunay," interposed Amy. "Itwill come in better when we are at Port Royal--or rather Annapolis. ButI had forgotten this Fort near Cape Sable."
"You shouldn't have forgotten it." Fritz's tone deepened in reproach."For many of La Tour's descendants live near the Fort, and the placeitself is called Port La Tour. I am astonished that you should have leftit out of your plan of travel. You can't go there now, because that iswhere Taps and I are bound, and it wouldn't do for us to get in yourway--I mean for you to get in our way. Beyond the tip end of Nova Scotiathere's Sable Island, that used to be haunted by pirates and privateers.Some of them may be there still, and if Taps and I go there, and ifanything happens to us, you may be sorry that you drove us away.Good-bye, Amy; even a Nova Scotia train won't wait for me;" and beforethe astonished girls could say a word, Fritz, with a touch of his cap,was walking rapidly away from them.
"We haven't offended him?" asked Priscilla, timidly.
"No, indeed. His plans were already made to go among the Frenchvillages. In fact, I thought that he had gone this morning. He startedoff soon after breakfast."
Although Amy spoke thus decidedly, secretly she wished that she had beenless summary with Fritz. It was not strange, indeed, that her conscienceshould prick her a little. When she and Fritz were not yet in theirteens they had become acquainted at Rockley, a summer resort on theNorth Shore where Fritz spent the summers with his uncle. Rockley wasAmy's home all the year, and as not many boys or girls of her own agelived near her, she greatly appreciated the companionship of Fritz. Thelatter, for his part, knew that he was very fortunate in having thefriendship of Amy and her mother; for, like Amy, he had neither brothersnor sisters, and although his father was living, his mother had diedwhen he was a baby. His father spent little time with him, as he wasfond of exploring new countries, and his travels often kept him awayfrom home two or three years at a time.
Before entering college Fritz had lived with his father's elderbrother,--a serious, scholarly man. The uncle made little provision foramusement in his nephew's life, until Mrs. Redmond had shown him thatall work and no play would do Fritz more harm than good. Amy and Fritz,on the whole, had been very congenial friends, although the latter couldrarely resist an opportunity to tease Amy. Mrs. Redmond often had to actas peacemaker, and Fritz always took her reproofs good-naturedly. No oneknew him so well as Mrs. Redmond did. There was no one to whose words hepaid quicker attention. He called her his "adopted mother," andnaturally it seemed strange to him that she should agree with Amy thathe and his friend would be in the way on the Nova Scotia tour. Beneaththe jesting tone that he had used with Amy lay something sharper, andAmy, as he finally turned away, realized this.
After the departure of Fritz the girls walked on in silence. Suddenly anexclamation of Priscilla's brought them to a standstill. In the windowof a little shop were two cups and saucers of thickish china, decoratedin a high-colored rose pattern. The cups were of a quaint, flaringshape, and Priscilla announced that she must have them. There were othercuriosities in the window,--a small cannon-ball, two reddishshort-stemmed pipes, and many things of Indian make. The shop-keeperproved to be an elderly woman, with a pleasant, soft accent. The cups,she explained, had belonged to an old couple who had lately died,leaving no children. At the auction she had bought a few bits of china.
"I know they are old,--more than a hundred years,--these two cups. I'msorry I haven't any more, but people from the States are always lookingfor old things, and there's been a good many here this summer."
Priscilla bought the cups, and Amy inquired about the cannon-ball.
"It was dug up near Fort St. Louis, as some call it, or Fort La Tour,and the pipes too. They say there's many a strange thing buried thereunder the ground, if people only had the patience to dig."
Amy decided that it was hardly wise to burden herself with thecannon-ball, and she didn't care especially for the pipes.
"There's something else here," said the woman, "if you won't be offendedat my showing it. Some Americans--"
"How did you know that we were Americans?" interrupted Amy.
"Oh, as soon as ever a Yankee--there, I beg your pardon--any one fromthe States opens her mouth--"
"She puts her foot in it," returned Amy, with a smile.
"No, no, I wouldn't say a word against the accent, but I can always tellit. I have a sister married in the States, and her children speak liketheir father. When they come to visit me I tell them that they areregular Yankees. Not that I have anything against that; I hope I'll liveto see Boston some time."
"Have you never been there?" asked Priscilla, in surprise.
"No, Miss; I know that it isn't so far away, but I was born in the OldCountry, and when I take a trip, that's where I'd rather go;" and thelittle woman sighed. "But I'll show you the curiosity I spoke of."
From a drawer behind the counter she drew a small fan, one or two ofwhose sticks were broken, while the silk was faded and torn.
"I bought that from an old lady who said that her grandmother fanned anofficer who was wounded at the Battle of Bunker Hill, while he lay sickin her house after the battle. Perhaps I oughtn't to speak of it," sheconcluded apologetically.
"Why not? The war's entirely over, and no one has any feeling about itnow."
"I suppose not." But the woman's voice carried a question.
"Why, to prove that I have no resentment I'll buy the fan,--even if itdid once soothe the brow of a hated Britisher." Amy smiled at Priscillaas she spoke.
The price named came so well within Amy's means that she half doubtedthe authenticity of the relic. Of her doubts, however, she gave no hintto the talkative little Englishwoman. Instead, by what she afterwardscalled a genuine inspiration, she asked some question about the Frenchpeople at Pubnico.
"Oh, they are good enough," said the woman, "and spend plenty of moneyin Yarmouth; and there's many of the young people working here in ourshops and mills, although many French come from Meteghan and up thatway."
"Meteghan?" queried Amy.
"Yes, that's a pretty country up North on St Mary's Bay, and all French.If you're going to Digby you'd better stop off."
"But we were going straight through to Digby."
"Yes, most people go straight through, and don't know what they miss.You see, the natives up there are Acadians, and it's kind of foreignlike, for they mostly speak only French. My
husband and I, we went upthere once and stayed at the hotel, for he had an order for some goodsthat he had to see about himself."
While Mrs. Lufkins was talking the practical Priscilla had taken out hernotebook, in which she wrote the name of the station and other thingsthat would help them.
"Do you think that your mother would like to change her plans?"
"Yes, indeed; she will think this just the thing. Probably there will begood material for sketching,--scenery, and odd people, and all that kindof thing. I am sure that she will like it."
"Thank you, Mrs. Lufkins," said Amy, as they turned away from themistress of the little shop; and then in a particularly cheerful toneshe added to Priscilla, "I feel as if I had found a gold-mine. Fritz wasso very sure that he was to have a monopoly of the only French in NovaScotia, that it will be great fun to write him about our French people."
"Then you think you will go there?"
"Certainly; mother will enjoy it, and it will be great fun for the restof us. Wasn't Mrs. Lufkins entertaining? If she were Yarmouth-born,perhaps she wouldn't speak of us as Yankees. You know the firstpermanent settlement here was made about 1761, by Cape Codders. In fact,the name's from Yarmouth on the Cape, not from the English Yarmouthdirectly. I remember the names of two of the first settlers,--SealedLanders and Eleshama Eldredge. Don't they sound like real old Puritans?"
"But how did they come to be English? Why didn't they stay on our sidein the Revolution?" Priscilla's tone contained a whole world of reproachfor Sealed and Eleshama.
"Oh, that's a long story. I dare say they were on our side--in theirhearts; but they couldn't afford to give up all they had worked for,after coming here as pioneers. Many of the Yarmouth people were thoughtto be in sympathy with the American privateers that were always prowlingabout the coast. But the English managed to hold Nova Scotia, and in theWar of 1812 the number of American vessels captured by Yarmouth wasgreater than the number of Yarmouth vessels captured by the Americans."
"When I left home," said Priscilla, "I did not know that there was somuch history down here. I thought that we were just coming for change ofair."
"Oh, the place is alive with history; only you must let me know if Ibore you with too many stories."
"You could never bore me." Priscilla laid her hand affectionately onAmy's. She was an undemonstrative girl, though her likes and dislikeswere well known to herself. But for her fondness for Amy she wouldhardly have made one of this summer party.