The Golden Dog [56]
and seated herself, in her impulsive way, at the organ. Her fingers touched the keys timidly at first as she began a trembling prelude of her own fantasy. In music her pent-up feelings found congenial expression. The fire kindled, and she presently burst out with the voice of a seraph in that glorious psalm, the 116th:
"'Toto pectore diligam Unice et Dominum colam, Qui lenis mihi supplici Non duram appulit aurem.
Aurem qui mihi supplici, Non duram dedit; hunc ego Donec pectora spiritus Pulset semper, amabo.'"
The Lady de Tilly, half guessing the truth, would not wound the susceptibilities of her niece by appearing to do so; so rose quietly from her seat and placed her arms gently round Amelie when she finished the psalm. She pressed her to her bosom, kissed her fondly, and without a word, left her to find in music relief from her high-wrought feelings. Her voice rose in sweeter and loftier harmonies to the pealing of the organ as she sang to the end the joyful yet solemn psalm, in a version made for Queen Mary of France and Scotland when life was good, hope all brightness, and dark days as if they would never come.
CHAPTER XII.
THE CASTLE OF ST. LOUIS.
The Count de la Galissoniere, with a number of officers of rank in full uniform, was slowly pacing up and down the long gallery that fronted the Castle of St. Louis, waiting for the Council of War to open; for although the hour had struck, the Intendant, and many other high officials of the Colony, had not yet arrived from Beaumanoir.
The Castle of St. Louis, a massive structure of stone, with square flanking towers, rose loftily from the brink of the precipice, overlooking the narrow, tortuous streets of the lower town. The steeple of the old Church of Notre Dame des Victoires, with its gilded vane, lay far beneath the feet of the observer as he leaned over the balustrade of iron that guarded the gallery of the Chateau.
A hum of voices and dense sounds rose up from the market of Notre Dame and from the quay where ships and bateaux were moored. The cries of sailors, carters, and habitans in thick medley floated up the steep cliffs, pleasant sounds to the ear of the worthy Governor, who liked the honest noises of industry and labor better than all the music of the Academy.
A few merchantmen which had run the blockade of the English cruisers lay at anchor in the stream, where the broad river swept majestically round the lofty cape. In the midst of them a newly- arrived King's ship, the Fleur-de-Lis, decorated with streamers, floated proudly, like a swan among a flock of teal.
Le Gardeur, as an officer of the garrison, went to report himself to the military commandant, while La Corne St. Luc and Colonel Philibert proceeded to the gallery, where a crowd of officers were now assembled, waiting for the Council.
The Governor at once called Philibert aside, and took his arm. "Philibert," said he, "I trust you had no difficulty in finding the Intendant?"
"No difficulty whatever, your Excellency. I discovered the Intendant and his friends by ear long before I got sight of them." An equivocal smile accompanied Philibert's words, which the Governor rightly interpreted.
"Ah! I understand, Philibert; they were carousing at that hour of daylight? Were they all--? Faugh! I shame to speak the word. Was the Intendant in a condition to comprehend my summons?" The Governor looked sad, rather than surprised or angry, for he had expected no less than Philibert had reported to him.
"I found him less intoxicated, I think, than many of his guests. He received your message with more politeness than I expected, and promised to be here punctually at the hour for opening the Council."
"Oh, Bigot never lacks politeness, drunk or sober: that strong intellect of his seems to defy the power of wine, as his heart is proof against moral feeling. You did not prolong your stay in Beaumanoir, I fancy?" remarked the Governor, dinting the point of his cane into the floor.
"I hastened out of
"'Toto pectore diligam Unice et Dominum colam, Qui lenis mihi supplici Non duram appulit aurem.
Aurem qui mihi supplici, Non duram dedit; hunc ego Donec pectora spiritus Pulset semper, amabo.'"
The Lady de Tilly, half guessing the truth, would not wound the susceptibilities of her niece by appearing to do so; so rose quietly from her seat and placed her arms gently round Amelie when she finished the psalm. She pressed her to her bosom, kissed her fondly, and without a word, left her to find in music relief from her high-wrought feelings. Her voice rose in sweeter and loftier harmonies to the pealing of the organ as she sang to the end the joyful yet solemn psalm, in a version made for Queen Mary of France and Scotland when life was good, hope all brightness, and dark days as if they would never come.
CHAPTER XII.
THE CASTLE OF ST. LOUIS.
The Count de la Galissoniere, with a number of officers of rank in full uniform, was slowly pacing up and down the long gallery that fronted the Castle of St. Louis, waiting for the Council of War to open; for although the hour had struck, the Intendant, and many other high officials of the Colony, had not yet arrived from Beaumanoir.
The Castle of St. Louis, a massive structure of stone, with square flanking towers, rose loftily from the brink of the precipice, overlooking the narrow, tortuous streets of the lower town. The steeple of the old Church of Notre Dame des Victoires, with its gilded vane, lay far beneath the feet of the observer as he leaned over the balustrade of iron that guarded the gallery of the Chateau.
A hum of voices and dense sounds rose up from the market of Notre Dame and from the quay where ships and bateaux were moored. The cries of sailors, carters, and habitans in thick medley floated up the steep cliffs, pleasant sounds to the ear of the worthy Governor, who liked the honest noises of industry and labor better than all the music of the Academy.
A few merchantmen which had run the blockade of the English cruisers lay at anchor in the stream, where the broad river swept majestically round the lofty cape. In the midst of them a newly- arrived King's ship, the Fleur-de-Lis, decorated with streamers, floated proudly, like a swan among a flock of teal.
Le Gardeur, as an officer of the garrison, went to report himself to the military commandant, while La Corne St. Luc and Colonel Philibert proceeded to the gallery, where a crowd of officers were now assembled, waiting for the Council.
The Governor at once called Philibert aside, and took his arm. "Philibert," said he, "I trust you had no difficulty in finding the Intendant?"
"No difficulty whatever, your Excellency. I discovered the Intendant and his friends by ear long before I got sight of them." An equivocal smile accompanied Philibert's words, which the Governor rightly interpreted.
"Ah! I understand, Philibert; they were carousing at that hour of daylight? Were they all--? Faugh! I shame to speak the word. Was the Intendant in a condition to comprehend my summons?" The Governor looked sad, rather than surprised or angry, for he had expected no less than Philibert had reported to him.
"I found him less intoxicated, I think, than many of his guests. He received your message with more politeness than I expected, and promised to be here punctually at the hour for opening the Council."
"Oh, Bigot never lacks politeness, drunk or sober: that strong intellect of his seems to defy the power of wine, as his heart is proof against moral feeling. You did not prolong your stay in Beaumanoir, I fancy?" remarked the Governor, dinting the point of his cane into the floor.
"I hastened out of