Montlivet | Page 8

rapidly, so I tried again. I chose short words, and framed my sentences like a schoolmaster. The prisoner listened negligently. Then he put out his hand. "Pardon, monsieur. But I speak French,--though indifferently," he said, with a slight shrug.
My anger made my ears buzz; I would not bandy words with a man of so small and sly a spirit. I turned to leave.
But the prisoner stepped between me and the door. "You were sent here with a message," he said; "I am listening."
His sunken brown eyes were so deep in melancholy that I could not hold my wrath. "Was it a gentleman's part to lead me on to play the clown?" I asked. "I came in kindness."
He smiled a little,--a bitter smile that did not reach his eyes. "I am not, like you, a gentleman by birth, monsieur," he said slowly, "and so often trip in my behavior. Granted that you were amusing,--and you were, monsieur,--can you blame me for using you for a diversion? I infer that you have come to tell me that the time left me, either for amusement or penitence, is short."
It was bravely said, but I knew from the careful repression of his tone that his hardness was a brittle veneer. He was young to carry so bold a front when his heart must be hammering, and I would willingly have talked any doggerel to have afforded him another smile.
"I know nothing of your future," I hastened, "save that, arguing from your youth, it will probably be a long one. It was your past that I was sent to ask concerning. The commandant sent me. Since you speak French, my mission is over. The commandant will come himself."
The prisoner laid his hand upon a chair. "Will you sit? I would rather it be you than the commandant, if it must be any one. What were you sent to ask?"
I waved away the chair, for I thought of the passing moments and of what I had promised Father Carheil. "I must hasten," I said irritably. "What was I to ask? Why, your name, the account of your capture,--the story of your being here, in brief."
He saw that I glanced at the door, and he walked over to it. "Wait!" he interposed. "I can answer you in a line. But one question first. Monsieur, I--I"--
"Yes, monsieur."
"Monsieur, I--I must think a moment. Be patient, if you will."
His voice was calm, but there was something in his look that forced my pity. "Tell me nothing that I must not tell the commandant," I warned. "But be assured of my good will."
I think he did not hear. He sat with his forehead on his hand, and I knew that he was thinking. He looked up with a new decision in his glance.
"Monsieur, you lead a strange life in this place. I see nothing but men. Have you no families?"
I swore under my breath. I had expected some meat from his remark, and he gave me trivialities. I had no time for social preliminaries, and I felt sudden distaste for him. I pointed him to the window.
"We are not all men. There are Indian women in plenty. Shall I draw the shade that you may see? There are many of my countrymen to tell you that they find them fair."
"But are there no white families in the settlement?" He was leaning forward, and he ignored the insult of my air.
I shook my head. "None, monsieur. None short of Montreal."
He tapped the floor, and frowned. His look went beyond me, and he was absorbed. "None short of Montreal. Indeed you live a strange life. Monsieur, is it far to Montreal?"
I shrugged. "Yes, it is a long journey. Come, monsieur, we waste time. I wish you good-day."
He glanced up quickly. His was a misleading face, for while his words were meaningless, and showed him of a small and trifling mind, his look was yet keen. He saw that I had wearied of him, and he put out his hand to beg my attention.
"Wait, monsieur!" he cried.
"Monsieur, you waste my time."
"I shall waste no more. I have made up my mind. Listen. I promised you my story." He had regained all his quiet arrogance. "It is soon told. I am an Englishman,--or a colonist, if you like the term better. I was in a village on the Connecticut frontier, when your savages came down upon us. No, I am wrong. They did nothing so manly as to come down upon us boldly. They slid among us like foul vermin afraid of the light. They achieved a notable victory, monsieur. I see that you recognize their prowess, and that the feast you have prepared for them is lavish. It was a noble battle. I regret you could not have seen it. There were some hundreds