FullReads

At that moment Madame Solde entered the room. She acknowledged Laflamme’s presence gravely.

“It is all done, madame,” he said, pointing to the portrait.

Madame Solde bowed coldly, but said: “It is very well done, monsieur.”

“It is my masterpiece,” remarked the painter pensively. “Will you permit me to say adieu, mesdames? I go to join my amiable and attentive companion, Roupet the guard.”

He bowed himself out.

Madame Solde drew Marie aside. Angers discreetly left.

The Governor’s wife drew the girl’s head back on her shoulder. “Marie,” she said, “M. Tryon does not seem happy; cannot you change that?”

With quivering lips the girl laid her head on the Frenchwoman’s breast, and said: “Ah, do not ask me now. Madame, I am going home to-day.”

“To-day? But, so soon!–I wished–“

“I must go to-day.”

“But we had hoped you would stay while M. Tryon–“

“M. Tryon–will–go with me–perhaps.”

“Ah, my dear Marie!” The woman kissed the girl, and wondered.

That afternoon Marie was riding across the Winter Valley to her father’s plantation at the Pascal River. Angers was driving ahead. Beside Marie rode Tryon silent and attentive. Arrived at the homestead, she said to him in the shadow of the naoulis: “Hugh Tryon, what would you do to prove the love you say you have for me?”

“All that a man could do I would do.”

“Can you see the Semaphore from here?”

“Yes, there it is clear against the sky–look!”

But the girl did not look. She touched her eyelids with her finger-tips, as though they were fevered, and then said: “Many have escaped. They are searching for Carbourd and–“

“Yes, Marie?”

“And M. Laflamme–“

“Laflamme!” he said sharply. Then, noticing how at his brusqueness the paleness of her face changed to a startled flush for an instant, his generosity conquered, and he added gently: “Well, I fancied he would try, but what do you know about that, Marie?”

“He and Carbourd were friends. They were chained together in the galleys, they lived–at first–together here. They would risk life to return to France.”

“Tell me,” said he, “what do you know of this? What is it to you?”

“You wish to know all before you will do what I ask.

“I will do anything you ask, because you will not ask of me what is unmanly.”

“M. Laflamme will escape to-night if possible, and join Carbourd on the Pascal River, at a safe spot that I know.” She told him of the Cave.

“Yes, yes, I understand. You would help him. And I?”

“You will help me. You will?”

There was a slight pause, and then he said: “Yes, I will. But think what this is to an Englishman-to yourself, to be accomplice to the escape of a French prisoner.”

“I gave a promise to a man whom I think deserves it. He believed he was a patriot. If you were in that case, and I were a Frenchwoman, I would do the same for you.”

He smiled rather grimly and said: “If it please you that this man escape, I shall hope he may, and will help you…. Here comes your father.”

“I could not let my father know,” she said. “He has no sympathy for any one like that, for any one at all, I think, but me.”

“Don’t be down-hearted. If you have set your heart on this, I will try to bring it about, God knows! Now let us be less gloomy. Conspirators should smile. That is the cue. Besides, the world is bright. Look at the glow upon the hills.”

“I suppose the Semaphore is glistening on the Hill of Pains; but I cannot see it.”

He did not understand her.

II

A few hours after this conversation, Laflamme sought to accomplish his escape. He had lately borne a letter from the Commandant, which permitted him to go from point to point outside the peninsula of Ducos, where the least punished of the political prisoners were kept. He depended somewhat on this for his escape. Carbourd had been more heroic, but then Carbourd was desperate. Laflamme believed more in ability than force. It was ability and money that had won over the captain of the Parroquet, coupled with the connivance of an old member of the Commune, who was now a guard. This night there was increased alertness, owing to the escape of Carbourd; and himself, if not more closely watched, was at least open to quick suspicion owing to his known friendship for Carbourd. He strolled about the fortified enclosure, chatting to fellow prisoners, and waiting for the call which should summon them to the huts. Through years of studied good-nature he had come to be regarded as a contented prisoner. He had no enemies save one among the guards. This man Maillot he had offended by thwarting his continued ill-treatment of a young lad who had been one of the condemned of the Commune, and whose hammock, at last, by order of the Commandant, was slung in Laflamme’s hut. For this kindness and interposition the lad was grateful and devoted. He had been set to labour in the nickel mines; but that came near to killing him, and again through Laflamme’s pleading he had been made a prisoner of the first class, and so relieved of all heavy tasks. Not even he suspected the immediate relations of Laflamme and Carbourd; nor that Laflamme was preparing for escape.