CHAPTER XXI
OLD CHEBUCTO
So slightly had the travellers really suffered from the fire that theysoon recovered from the effects of that exciting night, yet they wereglad enough to reach Halifax and open their trunks.
"It seems better than luck that we sent these trunks ahead to Halifax.If they had been burned--"
"We should have had great fun shopping, my dear Miss Amy Redmond,"responded Martine; "as it is, we shall just have to pretend that we needthings when we see any startling bargains in the shop-windows."
"If you should try to replace what you have lost you could keep yourselfbusy for a day or two," rejoined Amy.
"No, thank you. The things that I lost I can wait for until Christmas. Ihave bought some inexpensive brushes, plain enough for Priscilla toapprove; but at Christmas--well, perhaps I can persuade papa to gettortoise-shell, or something more elaborate than the simple silver setthat melted away at Windsor."
In this way Martine always turned aside the sympathy that the otherstried to offer her for her losses.
Fritz and Lucian had taken the travellers to the small Halifax hotel,where they themselves had been staying for two or three days beforetheir sudden flight to Windsor. It was a cheerful, homelike place, andin its little garden the girls spent more or less time resting after theexertions of their later days in Acadia.
The fire and the events immediately following it had seemed to bringMartine and Priscilla more closely together,--at least, for the timetheir lack of sympathy was less plainly evident.
One day the two were sitting in the garden.
"I almost wish we had been a week longer in Acadia," Priscilla said.
"Why, we are in Acadia still!" rejoined Martine. "Don't speak of Acadiaas so far away."
"Oh," responded Priscilla, "perhaps all Nova Scotia is Acadia; butreally, when we use the word we mean where the French settled. Halifaxis thoroughly English. On that account I do prefer it, though Acadia wascertainly interesting."
"Thanks!" said Martine, "but I am going to prove that Halifax also wassettled by the French. Amy laughed at me yesterday when I tried to provemy case. But listen; it was Amy herself who told me that no one hadthought seriously of making a settlement here until D'Anville's fleettook refuge here after their defeat near Louisbourg. The ships were safeenough, but the men died by hundreds, and were buried on the beach.Well, after they had gone away, some sort of a petition was sent fromBoston to England, asking that a settlement and fortifications beestablished to prevent the French from coming into Chebucto again andinterfering with New England ships. The English thought this a goodplan, because the Acadians at Annapolis and other places would be keptdown if there was a strong town on the coast. So, you see, if it hadn'tbeen for the French, Halifax might never have been settled. Have Iproved my case?"
Priscilla shook her head. She could not quite tell whether Martine wasin fun or in earnest.
"It seems to me that if Massachusetts men suggested the plan to England,you could just as easily say that Boston men settled Halifax."
"That's just what 'Taps'--I beg his pardon--Lucian said when I explainedmy theory to him. But then, he can't be expected to share my feelingsabout the Acadians,--at least, not yet,--although on the whole he ispretty sensible, isn't he?"
Priscilla found it difficult to answer this question directly, so, toconceal her embarrassment, she propounded another question.
"Why do they call your brother 'Taps'?" she asked abruptly.
"For no reason whatever, that I could ever see. But you know how boysinsist on nicknaming one another. Mamma just hates it; and, if younotice, I always say 'Lucian.'"
"'Lucian' is such a good name," said Priscilla.
"Yes, and don't you think that Lucian himself is a dear?"
"I like him very much," responded Priscilla, simply. She would hardlyhave applied Martine's term to him, but she had found Lucian helpful andentertaining during their three or four days in Halifax.
"I believe," continued Martine, "that I might have told you somethingabout Lucian before, except that I thought you might be prejudiced."
"Prejudiced!"
"Yes, a month ago you were much narrower-minded than you are now, and ofcourse you and Amy had heard that Fritz Tomkins had charge of a Freshmanwho had been in rather bad company last year; and so if you had heardthat it was Lucian before you had seen him, why, you might have had thequeerest notions about him."
"You have the funniest way of putting things;" and Priscilla smiledagain.
"Well, really," continued Martine, "there was nothing wrong with Lucian,only he is rather too good natured, and papa might as well give him asmaller allowance. But I heard Fritz Tomkins telling Mrs. Redmond thatLucian had kept a very good standing last year, but he wanted to breakoff with one or two men who were not going just the right way, and theywanted him to go to Paris and Vienna, and the only way was to plan someother kind of a trip. But there's really no harm in Lucian."
"Oh, no," said Priscilla, "I am sure of that; he has such a good face.It is curious that, with his blond hair and blue eyes, he still remindsme of you, and you are almost a brunette."
As Priscilla paused for a moment, the latch of the iron gate clickedsharply, and as a step sounded on the flagged walk, Martine rose quicklyto her feet.
"Why, Mr. Knight!" she exclaimed, and in a moment Priscilla, too, waswelcoming the new-comer.
"But we thought you in New Brunswick!"
"So I was a day or two ago. Certain business has brought me now toHalifax, and it is rather singular that we should be staying at the samehotel. I saw your names on the book this morning, and wondered if Ishould see you before my departure."
Mr. Knight's manner was so unaffected that Martine at once reproachedherself inwardly for having imagined that he had run away from Wolfvilleto escape Mrs. Redmond's party.
"I am to be here only a day or two," he continued, "but if there'sanything I can do--"
"In the way of rescuing," interrupted Martine.
"Oh, please," he protested, "don't mention that; it was so slight."
"You know," continued Priscilla, "we've been rescued once more,--atleast I have been, for really it was Martine who was the rescuer." Andthen, when the young man seemed mystified by their words, the two had totell him the story of the Windsor fire, of which, it seemed, he had notheard.
After Mr. Knight had congratulated them on their escape and condoledwith them on their losses, he said:
"In case I have no other chance, I must tell you that my chief regret inleaving Wolfville so unexpectedly was the fact that I had no chance toshow you through Acadia College, or tell you much about it. I know thatthat was one of the things Balfour had in mind when he wrote to me thatI should present Acadia College in the best possible light."
"Oh, indeed," responded Martine, with a slight touch of impatience, "wehave heard quantities about it,--that it offers the same advantages towomen as to men; that a great many distinguished college men in the'States,' as you say down here, were graduates of Acadia; that it has alovely situation, and plenty of time to grow," she concluded suddenly,for, after all, though truce had been declared, Martine could not resistthe opportunity of teasing Mr. Knight.
"I saw Balfour Airton," continued Mr. Knight, apparently undisturbed,"when at Annapolis the other day, and he is to be one of thedistinguished graduates of Acadia."
"Did he say so?" Martine did not try to conceal her genuine surprise.
"Oh, no; Balfour thinks of nothing now but hard work, and he's likely tohave his share of it the next few years."
A little later Mr. Knight excused himself for leaving the two, on theplea of letters to write, and during the two remaining days of his staythey saw little of him.
"He's afraid that he may have to rescue us again," Martine confided toAmy, though secretly she was a little piqued by his indifference. Fritzand Lucian, however, pronounced Mr. Knight a brick, and spent oneafternoon with him in a long tramp to a place called Herring Cove, thed
escription of which filled the girls with envy.
During their whole stay in Halifax, however, the boys went off on fewexcursions by themselves.
"You have been left too long to your own devices," Fritz would say,solemnly shaking his head, "and the punishment for your rash deeds isthat you are now to be forever in our care and protection. Until you aresafely back in Boston I hardly dare let you out of my sight, for fear offire and flood."
"Do you consider this sail-boat especially safe just because you are init?" asked Priscilla. "If my mother could behold us now she would thinkus in the greatest danger. In spite of spending all her summers at theedge of the sea, she is always afraid of a sail-boat."
"But I would rather run some risk than miss this sail around theNorthwest Arm. In fact I wouldn't have missed it for the world;" and Amyglanced gratefully in Fritz's direction, for it was he who had plannedthis particular excursion, and had gained Mrs. Redmond's ratherreluctant consent. "This narrow arm of the sea is so picturesque," shecontinued, "with its wooded shores, and the harbor is so interestingwith its islands and its shipping."
"Just like any harbor," cried Martine.
"Oh, I don't know. One has a sense of its greatness here. No wonder eventhe Micmacs called it Chebucto, which I believe is a word of theirs for'Great harbor.'"
"Please, Amy, this is a pleasure trip with no instruction. You mustn'ttell us the size of the dry dock, nor the number of guns mounted onGeorge's Island or on York Redoubt, or on any other of the harborfortifications."
"Nor the time of day," retorted Amy, looking at her watch, "though allthe same, Captain Fritz, it is time to turn about, for I absolutelypromised that we'd be at home by five o'clock."
"Your word is law," responded Fritz.
"Tell me a little history," urged Lucian; but Amy refused to do anythingbut enjoy the sail, and Martine, looking at her closely, wondered if shehad taken her words as criticism.
"There's one bit of harbor history that I shall speak of," said Lucian,as they turned homeward. "No, Martine, you needn't try to stop me.Everybody remembers Captain Lawrence and his 'don't give up the ship.'Well, do you know that he died here in Halifax? The 'Shannon' broughtthe 'Chesapeake' as a prize into this very harbor where we are nowsailing. It was the first Sunday in June, 1813, and the town was in thegreatest excitement. The news of their coming went quickly through thetown, and every one who could get hold of a small boat pushed out to seethe ships. The men were swabbing the decks, and the scuppers ran redwith blood."
"Don't, Lucian," cried Martine.
"Oh, but this is history, and the kind you should remember. The'Shannon' had set out from Halifax but a short time before, and when thetwo ships met in Boston Harbor they fought a fierce duel. The 'Shannon'had less than a hundred in killed and wounded, and the 'Chesapeake'nearly two hundred, all in about twenty minutes; so no wonder it'scalled one of the bloodiest fights on record. The ships must have been asight to the quiet Haligonians. Then," continued Lucian, "CaptainLawrence and Lieutenant Ludlow were buried with high honors in the oldEnglish burying-ground here, and there was a great procession from theKing's Wharf, with the coffins covered with our flags, and six Britishpost captains bearing the pall."
"You'll have to visit the grave, Amy," said Martine, mischievously.
"Can't be done. An American brig with a flag of truce came for thebodies in August, and they were carried back to their native country."
"How in the world did you remember so much?" asked Martine. "I neverrealized before that you took an interest in history."
"This is the result," retorted Lucian, "of travelling with anintelligent companion," and he pointed to Fritz.
"No, I didn't do it; don't blame me," rejoined Fritz. "He ran across ahistory yesterday, or book of annals, or something of that kind, andnaturally the mention of the 'Chesapeake' and the 'Shannon' interestedhim."
"Enough said--in excuse," replied Martine, while Priscilla added, "Iwonder if we shall visit Melville Island before we go. You know that iswhere they kept the American prisoners during that war. I had agreat-grand uncle who was taken prisoner, and I've always rememberedthat he was at Melville Island, Halifax. My mother has his diary."
"Why, that is interesting," said Amy. "Perhaps it may sound like wishingill to my forebears, but I'd even be willing to have had a relative ortwo imprisoned here, just for the sake of having a closer associationwith Halifax."
"That's a very silly remark, Miss Amy Redmond," cried Fritz,disapprovingly.
"Yes," added Martine; "I might as well wish that some of my Frenchancestors had been among the exiled Acadians, so that I could take adeeper interest in Clare. Not that I need a deeper interest--but thatreminds me," and she turned to her brother. "It's strange, Lucian, thatI hadn't thought to tell you before, but I believe I've found some newrelations in Nova Scotia; at least, I hope so. Do you know whether wehad any Tories in our family?"
"Tories! I should hope not," and Lucian's voice rang with patriotism.
"Oh, they are all dead now, so don't excite yourself. But two thingsequal to the same thing are sometimes equal to each other. We arecertainly cousins of Mrs. Blair's. You'll admit that?"
"Yes, worse luck to it," grumbled Lucian. "She is such a--such a--"
"You mean so conventional," interposed Martine, sedately; "but that'svery proper for a Bostonian. Well, Mrs. Blair's name is Audrey BalfourBlair."
"Why not?" asked Lucian.
"Well, we met a girl this summer whose grandmother's name was AudreyBalfour, and what I want to know is--are we related to her?"
"To the grandmother?" exclaimed Lucian. "How in the world should I know?and if we are, what's the difference? Probably the old lady's dead bythis time. Most grandmothers are."
"Oh, Lucian, do be serious."
"You'd better be serious yourself--say, look out for the boom, or you'lllose your head as well as your temper."
"I haven't lost my temper. There, I'm glad we're putting in for shorenow, if Lucian is going to be so disagreeable."
Thus the conversation drifted from Audrey Balfour, and for the presentMartine's question was unanswered.
This afternoon was only one of several that they spent on the water, andwhen the conditions were favorable, sometimes Amy, sometimes Martine,had a chance to show her skill as skipper, while the boys approved ormade suggestions, and Mrs. Redmond and Priscilla sat back, trying not toshow the timidity that they felt.
On shore as well as at sea they found much to occupy them, and asconditions for picture-taking happened for the time to be particularlyfavorable, each one added largely to her own collection of photographs.Each of the girls had a camera with her; but at first Priscilla had beenthe only one really zealous for photography.
When they visited the Citadel Lucian and Fritz had managed to intimidatethem by telling them of the fearful fate that might be theirs shouldtheir cameras be seen in its neighborhood; so the cameras were hiddenuntil the girls were far from what Martine called "the sacredprecincts," until, indeed, the sight of a redcoat on Barrington Street,standing where the sun illuminated his whole figure, caused her to shoutin delight:
"There, my camera, quick, Lucian. Here's my chance to catch one of thosecrazy little caps. How do they manage to make them stay on one ear?Quick, before he moves, or sees us," and then the click of a springshowed that she had accomplished her aim.
* * * * *
One dull afternoon Amy and Priscilla, wandering about, found their wayinto the Parliament building, and after admiring the stately oldportraits in the rooms of the historical society, spent an hour or twoover some of the old books and papers in the archives. This wasespecially gratifying to Priscilla, because she was thus able to satisfyher curiosity about the exiled Loyalists. Their sufferings seemed allthe more real when written out in detail in these old manuscriptvolumes, and as she read, she sighed. The sigh was not wholly for themiseries of the past. That very morning she had received a letter fromEunice that had set her thinking.
&
nbsp; "I am so glad [wrote Eunice] that you like Halifax. But it there--in the capital of our Province? Sometimes it seems as if I should never go anywhere, though Balfour says that he will send me to college, that I can depend on that. But that will be only to Acadia, and I shall have to wait so long, until he has a law practice--and when will that be? Besides, he thinks now that he may have to stay out of college a year, if not give it up altogether. It's the mortgage on the house. There's some kind of trouble about it, and Balfour is determined not to let it go. It would just break mother's heart. But I oughtn't to make this a complaining letter, when one of the pleasantest things this summer--or any summer--has been my acquaintance with you,--and the others, too, of course, though I didn't know them so well. Please give them my love, but the most for yourself.
"Your affectionate "EUNICE."
Now Eunice was really so fond of Priscilla that nothing was farther fromher thoughts than to make her friend unhappy. Yet such was Priscilla'ssympathy for her Annapolis friend that the remembrance of the lettermade her feel sad, even as she sat with Amy in the old library.
"If papa had only lived," she thought, "I could have asked him to dosomething, but now,--why, Eunice herself would be surprised to know howlittle pocket money I have. Not that Eunice wants anything, but it wouldbe so delightful to pay off that mortgage, and then make sure thatBalfour could get through college, and then see him put Eunice throughcollege, and then perhaps she could come up and take post-graduate workwith me at Radcliffe." Then, amused at the rapidity with which herthoughts were running away with her, for Priscilla had not yet passedher own finals for college, she laughed aloud. Unexpectedly the cloudshad been chased away.
"Priscilla," said Amy, "I am delighted to hear you laugh. You have beenaltogether too quiet to-day. Surely you are not homesick again."
"Oh, no, not homesick, only thinking."
"Tell me then, so that I may laugh too,--unless it's a secret."
"Oh, no, it's hardly worth mentioning; besides, it has ended in afoolish wish--if only I had money like Martine!"
"Martine cares little for money," responded Amy, with some sharpness.This was not the first time that she had thought Priscilla too ready tocriticise Martine.
"I know that. She is surely very generous, only it would be so easy todo things for others if one had as much money as she has."
"I know what you think, Priscilla; but still Martine's way of spendingmoney is not altogether extravagance. She has had more in her hands thanmost girls we know, and rich Chicagoans are fonder of spending thanhoarding. It's in the air. Martine does not care for money in itself,but for what money buys."
"But she surely throws it around without getting full value."
"That's a matter of temperament."
"Yes," but Priscilla's voice sounded as if she were not sure of this. Toherself, indeed, she was saying, "It is strange that Martine has nottalked of making plans for Yvonne. Ah, if I had as much in my power Icertainly wouldn't let Eunice worry about mortgages and going to collegeand all that kind of thing."
"Priscilla, Priscilla, wake up," cried Amy, a moment later. "Look at thecitadel. It's hard to realize that this is the greatest fortress inAmerica, and that only a few generations ago it was nothing but astockade, a defence against the Indians."
"A few generations ago!" repeated Priscilla. "Why, it must be--"
"A bare hundred and fifty years, my dear child, since the English shipswith their two or three thousand settlers came sailing into the harbor."
"A bare hundred and fifty years," echoed Priscilla, "and yet that israther a long time, and Halifax isn't a large city yet."
Before Amy could reply she felt her arm seized from behind. Turningabout, she found herself face to face with Martine, who held a letter inher disengaged hand. Priscilla, not hearing the steps, had walked on alittle before she discovered that Amy was not with her. But a momentlater she too faced about, and, as her eye fell on Martine, she couldnot help seeing that the latter was holding her finger on her lips witha warning glance at Amy, as if between the two there was some secretunderstanding.