Seats of the Mighty | Page 4

shall but briefly, in these
memoirs (ay, they shall be written, and with a good heart), travel the
trail of history, or discourse upon campaigns and sieges, diplomacies
and treaties. I shall keep close to my own story; for that, it would seem,
yourself and the illustrious minister of the King most wish to hear. Yet
you will find figuring in it great men like our flaming hero General
Wolfe, and also General Montcalm, who, I shall ever keep on saying,
might have held Quebec against us, had he not been balked by the vain
Governor, the Marquis de Vaudreuil; together with such notorious men
as the Intendant Bigot, civil governor of New France, and such noble
gentlemen as the Seigneur Duvarney, father of Alixe.
I shall never view again the citadel on those tall heights where I was
detained so barbarously, nor the gracious Manor House at Beauport,
sacred to me because of her who dwelt therein--how long ago, how
long! Of all the pictures that flash before my mind when I think on
those times, one is most with me: that of the fine guest-room in the
Manor House, where I see moving the benign maid whose life and
deeds alone can make this story worth telling. And with one scene
therein, and it the most momentous in all my days, I shall begin my
tale.
I beg you convey to Mr. Pitt my most obedient compliments, and say
that I take his polite wish as my command.
With every token of my regard, I am, dear Ned, affectionately your
friend,

Robert Moray

I
AN ESCORT TO THE CITADEL
When Monsieur Doltaire entered the salon, and, dropping lazily into a
chair beside Madame Duvarney and her daughter, drawled out,
"England's Braddock--fool and general--has gone to heaven, Captain
Moray, and your papers send you there also," I did not shift a jot, but
looked over at him gravely--for, God knows, I was startled--and I said,
"The General is dead?"
I did not dare to ask, Is he defeated? though from Doltaire's look I was
sure it was so, and a sickness crept through me, for at the moment that
seemed the end of our cause. But I made as if I had not heard his words
about my papers.
"Dead as a last years courtier, shifted from the scene," he replied; "and
having little now to do, we'll go play with the rat in our trap."
I would not have dared look towards Alixe, standing beside her mother
then, for the song in my blood was pitched too high, were it not that a
little sound broke from her. At that, I glanced, and saw that her face
was still and quiet, but her eyes were shining, and her whole body
seemed listening. I dared not give my glance meaning, though I wished
to do so. She had served me much, had been a good friend to me, since
I was brought a hostage to Quebec from Fort Necessity. There, at that
little post on the Ohio, France threw down the gauntlet, and gave us the
great Seven Years War. And though it may be thought I speak rashly,
the lever to spring that trouble had been within my grasp. Had France
sat still while Austria and Prussia quarreled, that long fighting had
never been. The game of war had lain with the Grande Marquise--or La
Pompadour, as she was called--and later it may be seen how I,
unwillingly, moved her to set it going.

Answering Monsieur Doltaire, I said stoutly, "I am sure he made a
good fight; he had gallant men."
"Truly gallant," he returned--"your own Virginians among others" (I
bowed); "but he was a blunderer, as were you also, monsieur, or you
had not sent him plans of our forts and letters of such candour. They
have gone to France, my captain."
Madame Duvarney seemed to stiffen in her chair, for what did this
mean but that I was a spy? and the young lady behind them now put her
handkerchief to her mouth as if to stop a word. To make light of the
charges against myself was the only thing, and yet I had little heart to
do so. There was that between Monsieur Doltaire and myself--a matter
I shall come to by-and-bye--which well might make me apprehensive.
"My sketch and my gossip with my friends," said I, "can have little
interest in France."
"My faith, the Grande Marquise will find a relish for them," he said
pointedly at me. He, the natural son of King Louis, had played the part
between La Pompadour and myself in the grave matter of which I
spoke. "She loves deciding knotty points of morality," he added.
"She has had chance and will enough," said I boldly, "but what