had nevertheless acquaintances among
the Royalist soldiers who were quartered in the strong fortress at
Jerbourg. One in particular he had made a great friend of--Charlie
Heyward. Old Pierre often used to say he knew harm would come of
this friendship, and felt his words were being proved true when he
discovered that an attachment was springing up between his daughter
Marguerite and the young soldier. On becoming aware of this his rage
was unbounded, and he repeatedly said he would be the death of
Charlie if he could manage it. He tried in every way to bring his son to
his way of thinking, but though Hirzel did not much like the idea of his
sister marrying a Royalist soldier, and besides which another friend and
fellow-countryman of his Jacques Gaultier, was also much attached to
the fair Marguerite, and had long persecuted her with his unwelcome
attentions, still Hirzel would have done anything rather than have
injured his friend Charlie, whom he liked well, though he did not like
his principles. In Jacques Gaultier the old miller saw a ready tool
towards gaining his wicked end of destroying Charlie. The latter did
not think Pierre's hatred reached the extent it did, at the same time he
was still aware there was no chance of his ever gaining the old man's
consent to his marrying Marguerite.
One night Pierre sent his son to bring Jacques Gaultier saying, he
wished to speak to him about taking some flour into the town next day.
Jacques was only too delighted to get any excuse for going to the mill,
and immediately said he would accompany Hirzel if he "would wait
until he got something which he had been making for Marguerite."
"All right, Jacques, my boy, but look sharp, as the old man seems
impatient to-night."
"Thy tone and way of speaking savour far more of the style of that base
soldiery which our island is burdened with, than the tone of thy father's
son should be," replied Jacques.
"Very well," said Hirzel, "I will promise to mend my ways, but do be
quick, as I promised to walk with my sister at seven, and now it is nigh
on half-past; and she says she needs my counsel much on a matter."
"Ah! thou art an impatient lad, but it would be worse with me were I in
thy case; long till she'd ask me to walk with her, not I warrant were I
dying for a look at her sweet face."
"Don't be down-hearted, Jacques, how know'st thou but that my sister
may change her mind and look kindly on thee yet; wait till the
Redcoats have gone down to the Castle, and then perhaps thy fishers'
garb may find favour in her sight, but what hast thou got there? Some
woman's trifles, which thou seem'st to understand better than I have yet
learned."
"I made these sore against my will, for I would rather see thy sister
reading some edifying book than passing her time on such vanities as
these are used for, they are bobbins, lad."
"Ha, Ha," laughed Hirzel, "were I to go into the market to-morrow and
say that stern Jacques Gaultier spent his hours carving out lace bobbins,
who would believe me?"
"Don't laugh at me, Hirzel, perhaps one of these fine days thou wilt do
something more foolish: when thy nineteen summers shall have ripened
like mine to thirty thou wilt have different thoughts."
"Time enough to speak when it comes. Now I love my boat better than
anything else! But how we are wasting this fine evening. My Father
will think we are lost or gone to be soldiers, eh Jacques? Come along,
and we will see what Marguerite thinks of those little sticks of thine."
CHAPTER II.
On the same evening of which we have been speaking Marguerite was
sitting just outside the door, employed as she generally was in her
leisure time at lace work, of the style which had been so fashionable
during the reign of the late murdered King. How Marguerite had first
learnt this "unedifying work," we know not but as she used to work for
the family of one of the King's officers, and had seen the ladies do it,
she soon with very little instruction learnt to do it well. Very pretty
Marguerite looked bending over her "lace pillow," weaving sweet
thoughts into her work, if we may judge from the expression of her face
which was one of those that "made one feel good to look at," as Charlie
often said, and indeed it was a good thing for him to take the
remembrance of such a face through his Barrack life, which at least was
a rough one.
Marguerite had not long been enjoying the quiet of
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