The Lane That Had No Turning | Page 5

day. As he brooded, shaken and weak and bitter--all his
thoughts were bitter now--a flash of scarlet, a glint of white plumes
crossed his line of vision, disappeared, then again came into view, and
horses' hoofs rang out on the hard road below. He started to his feet, but

fell back again, so feeble was he, then rang the bell at his side with
nervous insistence. A door opened quickly behind him, and his voice
said imperiously:
"Quick, Havel--to the door. The Governor and his suite have come.
Call Tardif, and have wine and cake brought at once. When the
Governor enters, let Tardif stand at the door, and you beside my chair.
Have the men-at-arms get into livery, and make a guard of honour for
the Governor when he leaves. Their new rifles too--and let old Fashode
wear his medal! See that Lucre is not filthy--ha! ha! very good. I must
let the Governor hear that. Quick--quick, Havel. They are entering the
grounds. Let the Manor bell be rung, and every one mustered. He shall
see that to be a Seigneur is not an empty honour. I am something in the
state, something by my own right." His lips moved restlessly; he
frowned; his hands nervously clasped the arms of the chair.
"Madelinette too shall see that I am to be reckoned with, that I am not a
nobody. By God, then, but she shall see it!" he added, bringing his
clasped hand down hard upon the wood.
There was a stir outside, a clanking of chains, a champing of bits, and
the murmurs of the crowd who were gathering fast in the grounds.
Presently the door was thrown open and Havel announced the
Governor. Louis Racine got to his feet, but the Governor hastened
forward, and, taking both his hands, forced him gently back into the
chair.
"No, no, my dear Seigneur. You must not rise. This is no state visit, but
a friendly call to offer congratulations on your happy escape, and to
inquire how you are."
The Governor said his sentences easily, but he suddenly flushed and
was embarrassed, for Louis Racine's deformity, of which he had not
known-- Pontiac kept its troubles to itself--stared him in the face; and
he felt the Seigneur's eyes fastened on him with strange intensity.
"I have to thank your Excellency," the Seigneur said in a hasty nervous
voice. "I fell on my shoulders--that saved me. If I had fallen on my
head I should have been killed, no doubt. My shoulders saved me!" he

added, with a petulant insistence in his voice, a morbid anxiety in his
face.
"Most providential," responded the Governor. "It grieves me that it
should have happened on the occasion of my visit. I missed the
Seigneur's loyal public welcome. But I am happy," he continued, with
smooth deliberation, "to have it here in this old Manor House, where
other loyal French subjects of England have done honour to their
Sovereign's representative."
"This place is sacred to hospitality and patriotism, your Excellency,"
said Louis Racine, nervousness passing from his voice and a curious
hard look coming into his face.
The Governor was determined not to see the double meaning. "It is a
privilege to hear you say so. I shall recall the fact to her Majesty's
Government in the report I shall make upon my tour of the province. I
have a feeling that the Queen's pleasure in the devotion of her
distinguished French subjects may take some concrete form."
The Governor's suite looked at each other significantly, for never
before in his journeys had his Excellency hinted so strongly that an
honour might be conferred. Veiled as it was, it was still patent as the
sun. Spots of colour shot into the Seigneur's cheeks. An honour from
the young English Queen--that would mate with Madelinette's fame.
After all, it was only his due. He suddenly found it hard to be consistent.
His mind was in a whirl. The Governor continued:
"It must have given you great pleasure to know that at Windsor her
Majesty has given tokens of honour to the famous singer, the wife of a
notable French subject, who, while passionately eager to keep alive
French sentiment, has, as we believe, a deep loyalty to England."
The Governor had said too much. He had thought to give the Seigneur
an opportunity to recede from his seditious position there and then, and
to win his future loyalty. M. Racine's situation had peril, and the
Governor had here shown him the way of escape. But he had said one
thing that drove Louis Racine mad. He had given him unknown

information about his own wife. Louis did not know that Madelinette
had been received by the Queen, or that she had received "tokens of
honour." Wild with