 CHAPTER XIII. LOVE BEARING CHAINS No one asked Maria any questions that evening or on the following evenings, but some member of the family must have told Eutrop Gagnon of Lorenzo's surprise visit and his evident intentions. For the next Sunday after dinner came Eutrop in turn, and Maria heard another suitor declare his love. Francois had come in the full tide of summer from the land of mystery at the headwaters of the rivers. The memory of his artless words brought back the dazzling sunshine, the ripened blueberries and the last blossoms of the laurel fading in the undergrowth. After him appeared Lorenzo's apprentice, offering other gifts, visions of beautiful distant cities, of a life abounding in unknown wonders. When Eutrop spoke, it was in a shame-faced, holding way, as though he foresaw defeat, knowing full well that he bore little in his hands wherewith to tempt her. Boldly enough he asked Maria to walk with him, but when they were dressed and outside the door, they saw that snow was falling. Maria stood dubiously on the step, a hand on the latch, as though she would return, and Eutrop, unwilling to lose his chance, begun forthwith to speak, hastening, as though doubtful, that he would be able to say all that was in his mind. You know very well, Maria, how I feel toward you. I said nothing before, as my farm was not so forward, that we could live there comfortably. And, moreover, I guessed that you liked Francois' parody better than me. But as Francois is no longer here, and this young fellow from the States is courting you, I said to myself that I too might try my fortune. The snow was coming now in serried flakes, fluttering rightly for an instant against the darkly encircling forest, on the way to join that other snow, with which five months of winter had burdened the earth. It is true enough that I am not rich, but I have two lots of my own, paid for out and out, and you know the soil is good. I shall work on it all spring, take the stumps out at the large field below the ridge of rock, put up some fences, and by May there will be a fine big field ready for seeding. I shall sow a hundred and thirty bushels, Maria, a hundred and thirty bushels of wheat, barley, and oats, without reckoning an ochre of mixed grain for the cattle. All the seed, the best seed grain, I am going to buy at Robberville, settling for it on the spot. I have the money put aside, I shall pay cash without running into debt to a soul, and if only we have an average season there will be a fine crop to harvest. Just think of it, Maria, a hundred and thirty bushels of good seed in first-rate land, and in the summer before the haymaking, and then again before the harvest, will be the best chance for building a nice, tight, warm little house, all of Tamarack. I have the wood ready, cut and piled behind my barn, my brother will help me, perhaps Ezrae and Bibi as well, when they get home. Next winter I shall go to the shanties, taking a horse with me, and in the spring I shall bring back not less than two hundred dollars in my pocket. Then, should you be willing to wait so long for me, would be the time. Maria was leaning against the door, a hand still upon the latch, her eyes turned away. Eutrop Gagnon had just this and no more to offer her, after a year of waiting that she should become his wife, and live as now she was doing in another wooden house on another half-cleared farm, should do the household work and the cooking, milk the cows, clean the stable when her man was away, labour in the fields perhaps, and she was strong, and there would be but two of them. Should spend her evenings at the spinning wheel or in patching old clothes, now arred then in summer, resting for half an hour, seated on the doorstep, looking across their scant fields, good by the measureless frowning woods, or in winter, thawing a little patch with her breath on the window pane, dulled with the frost, to watch the snow falling on the wintry earth and the forest. The forest, always the inscrutable inimical forest, with a host of dark things hiding there, clothes round them with a savage grip that must be loosened little by little, year by year. A few acres won each spring and autumn as the years pass. Throughout all the long days of a dull, harsh life, know that she could not face. I know well enough that we shall have to work hard at first, you trope went on, but you have courage Maria, and are well used to labour as I am. I have always worked hard, no one can say that I was ever lazy, and if only you will marry me, it will be my joy to toil like an ox, all the day long to make a thriving place of it, so that we shall be in comfort before old age comes upon us. I do not touch drink Maria, and truly I love you. His voice quivered, and he put out his hand toward the latch to take hers, or perhaps to hinder her from opening the door and leaving him without his answer. My affection for you, of that I am not able to speak. Never a word did she utter in reply. Once more a young man was telling his love, was placing in her hands all he had to give, and once more she could but hearken in mute embarrassment, only saved from awkwardness by her immobility and silence. Town-bred girls had thought her stupid, when she was but honest and truthful, very close to nature, which takes no account of words. In other days when life was simpler than now it is, young men paid their court, masterfully and yet half-bashfully, to some deep bosom girl in the ripe fullness of womanhood who had not heard nature's imperious command. She must have listened thus in silence, less attentive to their pleading than to the inner voice, guarding herself by distance against who ardent a wooing. Whilst she awaited, Chapter Lange were not drawn to her by any charm of gracious speech, but by a sheer comeliness and the transparent, honest heart dwelling in her bosom. When they spoke to her of love she was true to herself, steadfast and serene, saying no word where none was needful to be said, and for this they loved her only the more. This young fellow from the States was ready with fine speeches, but you must not be carried away by them. He caught a hint of dissent and changed his tone. Of course you are quite free to choose, but I have not a word to say against him, but you would be happier here, Maria, amongst people like yourself. Through the falling snow, Maria gazed at the rude structure of planks between stable and barn, which her father and brother had thrown together five years before. Unsightly and squalid enough it appeared, now that her fancy had begun to conduit up the stately buildings of the town. Close and ill-smelling, the floor littered with manure and foul straw, the pump in one corner that was so hard to work, and set the teeth on edge with its grinding. The weather-beaten outside, buffeted by wind, and never-ending snow, sign and symbol of what awaited her were she to marry, one like U-Trop Gagnon, and accept as her lot a lifetime of rude toil in this sad and desolate land, she shook her head. I cannot answer, U-Trop, either yes or no, not just now. I have given no promise, you must wait. It was more than she had said to Lorenzo, and yet Lorenzo had gone away with hope in his heart, while U-Trop felt that he had made his throw and lost. Departing alone, the snow soon hit him, she entered the house. March dragged through its melancholy days, cold winds drove the grey clouds back and forth across the sky, and swept the snow hither and thither, one must needs consult the calendar of the Robert Valgrain merchant to get an inkling that spring was drawing near. Succeeding days were to Maria like those that had gone before, each one bringing its familiar duties and the same routine, but the evenings were different and were filled with pathetic strivings to think. Beyond doubt her parents had guessed the truth, but they were unwilling to force her reserve with their advice, nor did she seek it. She knew that it rested with her alone to make a choice to settle the future course of her life, and she felt like a child at school, standing on a platform before watchful eyes, bitten to thine by herself, the answer to some naughty question. And this was her problem, when a girl is grown to womanhood, when she is good-looking, healthy and strong, clever in all that pertains to the household and the farm. Young men come and ask her to marry, and she must say yes to this one and no to another. If only Francois Parody had not vanished forever in the great lonely woods, all were then so plain. No need to ask herself what she ought to do. She would have gone straight to him, guided by a wise instinct that she might not gain say, sure of doing, what was right as a child, that obeys a command. But Francois was gone, neither in the promised springtime, nor ever again to return, and the cure of St Henry forbade regrets that would prolong their waiting. Ah, dear God, how happy had been the early days of this awaiting, as we followed week something quickened in our heart and shot upward, like a rich and beauteous sheep, whose opening ears bend low under their weight. Happiness beyond any dream came dancing to her. No, it was stronger and keener yet, this joy of hers. It had been a great light shining in the twilight of a lonely land, a beacon toward which one journeys, forgetful of the tears that were about to flow, saying with glad defiance. I knew it well, knew that somewhere on the earth was such a thing as this, it was over. Yes, the gleam was gone, henceforth must she forget that once it had shone upon her path, and groped through the dark with faltering steps. Chap Delane and Titby were smoking in silence by the stove, the mother knitted stockings. Chien stretched out with his head between his paws, blinked sleepily in enjoyment of the good wolf. Telus Four had dozed off, with the catechism open on his knees, and the little Elmer Rose, not yet in bed, was hovering in doubt between the wish to draw attention to her brother's indolence, and a sense of shame at thus betraying him. Maria looked down again, took her work in hand, and her simple mind pursued a little further its puzzling train of thought. When a girl does not feel or feels no longer, then deep mysterious impulse toward a man singled out from all the rest of the world, what is left to guide her? For what things should she seek in her marriage? For a satisfying life, surely, to make a happy home for herself. Her parents would like her to marry Eutrop Gagnon, that she felt, because she would live near them, and again because this life upon the land was the only one they knew, and they naturally thought it better than any other. Eutrop was a fine fellow, hardworking, and a kindly disposition, and he loved her, but Lorenzo's apprentice also loved her. He, likewise, was steady and a good worker. He was a Canadian at heart, not less than those amongst whom she lived. He went to church, and he offered as his splendid gift of a world dazzling to the eye, all the wonders of the city. He would rescue her from this oppression of frozen earth and gloomy forest. She could not as yet resolve to say to herself, I will marry Lorenzo's apprentice, but her heart had made its choice. The cruel northwest wind that heaped the snow above Francois Paradis at the foot of some desolate cypress, bore also to her on its wings the frown and the harshness of the country wherein she dwelt, and filled her with hate at the northern winter, the cold, the whiteened ground, and the loneliness at that boundless forest unheedful of the destinies of men where every melancholy tree is fit to stand in a home of the dead. Love all compelling love for a brief space had dwelt within her heart, mighty flame scorching and bright quenched now and never to revive. It left her spirit empty and yearning. She was famed to seek forgetfulness and cure in that life afar among the myriad paler lights of the city. End of CHAPTER XIII. CHAPTER XIV INTO THE DEEP SILENCE. There came an evening in April when Madame Chabdelen would not take her place at the supper table with the others. There are pains through my body and I have no appetite, she said. I must have strained myself today lifting a bag of flour when I was making bread. Now something catches me in the back and I am not hungry. No one answered her. Those living sheltered lives take quick alarm when the mechanisms of one of their number goes wrong. But people who wrestle with the earth for a living feel little surprise if their labours are too much for them now and then and the body gives way in some fiber. While father and children sapped, Madame Chabdelen sat very still in her chair beside the stove. She drew her breath hard and her broad face was working. I'm going to bed, she said presently. A good night's sleep and tomorrow morning I shall be all right again. Have no doubt of that. You will see to the baking, Maria. And indeed in the morning she was up at her usual hour but when she had made the batter for the pancakes pain overcame her and she had to lie down again. She stood for a minute beside the bed with both hands pressed against her back and made certain that the daily tasks would be attended to. You will give the men their food, Maria and your father will lend you a hand at milking the cows if you wish it. I am not good for anything this morning. It will be all right, mother. It will be all right. Take it quietly. We shall have no trouble. For two days she kept her bed with a watchful eye over everything directing all the household affairs. Don't be in the least anxious, her husband urged again and again. There's hardly anything to be done in the house beyond the cooking and Maria is quite fit to look after that. There's hardly anything else too, by thunder. She's not a little child any longer and is as capable as yourself. Lie there quietly without stirring and be easy in your mind instead of tossing about all the time under the blankets and making yourself worse. On the third day she gave up thinking about the cares of the house and began to bemoan herself. Oh, my God, she wailed. I have pains all over my body and my head is burning. I am going to die. Her husband tried to cheer her with his clumsy pleasantries. You're going to die when the good God wills it and according to my way of thinking that will not be for a while yet. What would he be doing with you? Heaven is all cluttered with all women and down here we have only the one and she is able to make herself a bit useful every now and then. But he was beginning to feel anxious and took counsel with his daughter. I could put the horse in and go as far as Lepip, he suggested. It may be that they have some medicine for the sickness at the store. Or I might talk things over with the curé and he would tell me what to do. Before they had made up their minds a night had fallen and Tsitbe, who had been at Eutrop Gagnons helping him to saw his firewood, came back bringing Eutrop along with. Eutrop has a remedy, said he. They all gathered around Eutrop who took a little tin box from his pocket and opened it deliberately. This is what I have, he announced rather dubiously. They are little pills. When my brother was bad with his kidneys three years ago he saw an advertisement in a paper about these pills and it said they were the proper thing. So he sent the money for a box and he declares it is a good medicine. Of course his trouble did not leave him at once but he says that this did him good. It comes from the States. Without words said they looked at the little grey pills rolling on the bottom of the box. A remedy compounded by some man in a distant land famed for his wisdom and they felt the awe of the savage for his broth of herbs simmered on a night of the full moon beneath the medicine man's incantations. Maria asked doubtfully is it certain that her trouble has only to do with the kidneys? I thought it was just that from what Tb told me. A motion of Shaptalan's hand eaked out his words. She strained herself lifting a bag of flour as she says and now she has pains everywhere. How can we tell? The newspaper that spoke of this medicine Eutrop Gagnon went on put it that whenever a person falls sick and is in pain it is always the kidneys and for the trouble in the kidneys these pills here are first rate. That is what the paper said and my brother as well. Even if they are not for this very sickness said Tb differentially they are a remedy all the same. She suffers that is one thing certain we cannot let her go on like this. They drew near the bed where the sick woman was moaning and breathing heavily attempting from time to time to make slight movements which were followed by sharper outcries. Eutrop has brought you a cure Laura. I have no faith in your cures she groaned out but yet she was ready to look at the little gray pills ever running around in the tin box as if they were alive. My brother took some of these three years ago when he had the kidney trouble so badly that he was hardly able to work at all and he says that they cured him. It is a fine remedy Madame Shaptalan there is not a question of it. His former doubts had vanished in speech and he felt wholly confident. This is going to cure you Madame Shaptalan as surely as the good God is above us. It is a medicine of the very first class. My brother had it sent expressly from the states. You may be sure that you would never find a medicine like this in the store at Lepid. It cannot make her worse Maria asked some doubt lingering. It is not a poison or anything of that sort. With one voice in an indignant tone the three men protested. Do harm tiny pills no bigger than that. My brother took nearly a box of them and according to his account it was only good that they did him. When Otrop departed he left the box of pills. The sick woman had not yet agreed to try them but her objections grew weaker with their urging. In the middle of the night she took a couple and two more in the morning. And as the hours passed they all waited in confidence of the virtue of the medicine to declare itself. But toward midday they had to bow to the facts. She was no easier and did not seize her moaning. By evening the box was empty and at the falling of the night her groans were filling the household with anguished distress. All the keener as they had no medicine now in which to place their trust. She rose up several times in the night aroused by her mother's more piercing cries. She always found her lying motionless on her side and this position seemed to increase the suffering and the stiffness so that her groans were pitiful to hear. What ails you, mother? Are you not feeling any better? Oh, God, how I suffer! How I do suffer! I cannot stir myself, not the least bit and even so the pain is as bad as ever. Give me some cold water, Maria. I have the most terrible thirst. Several times Maria gave her mother water but at last she became afraid. Maybe it is not good for you to drink so much. Try to bear the thirst for a little. But I cannot bear it. I tell you the thirst and the pain all through my body and my head that burns like fire. My God, it is certain that I am to die. A little before daylight they both fell asleep and Maria was awakened by her father who laid his hand upon her shoulder and whispered, I am going to harness the horse to go to Mistuk for the doctor and on the way through Lepip I shall also speak to the Curie. It is heartbreaking to hear her moan like this. Her eyes open and the ghostly dawn Maria gave ear to the sounds of his departure the banging of the stable door against the wall the horses hooves thudding on the wood of the alley the old commands to Charles Eugène hold up there back, back up whoa then the tinkle of the sleigh bells and the silence that followed the sick woman groaned two or three times in her sleep Maria watched the wind light stealing into the house and thought of her father's journey trying to reckon up the distances he must travel from their house to Hon Fleur eight miles from Hon Fleur to Lepip six there her father would speak with the Curie and then pursue his way to Mistuk she corrected herself and for the ancient Indian name that the people of the country use gave it the official one bestowed in baptism by the church Saint-Cœur de Marie from Lepip to Saint-Cœur de Marie eight miles eight and six and then eight growing confused she said to herself anyway it is far and the roads will be heavy again she felt affrighted at their loneliness which once hardly gave her a thought all was well enough when people were in health and Mary and one had no need of help but with trouble or sickness the woods around seemed to shut them cruelly away from all succour the woods where horses sink to the chest in snow were storms mother one in mid-April the mother strove to turn in her sleep waked with a cry of anguish and the continual moaning began anew Maria rose and sat by the bed thinking of the long day just beginning in which she would have neither help nor counsel all the dragging hours were burdened with lamentable sound the groaning from the bed where the sick woman lay never ceased and haunted the narrow wooden dwelling now and then some household noise broke in upon it the clashing of plates the clang of the open-stove door the sound of feet on the planking Tzitbe stealing into the house clumsy and anxious to ask for news is she no better? Maria answered by a movement of the head they both stood gazing for a time at the motionless figure under the woolen blankets giving ear to the sounds of distress then Tzitbe departed to his small outdoor duties when Maria had put the house in order she took up her patient watching and the sick woman's agonising wales seemed to reproach her from hour to hour she kept reckoning the times and the distances my father should not be far from St. Count de Marie if the doctor is there they will rest the horse for a couple of hours and come back together but the roads must be very bad at this time in the spring they are sometimes hardly passable and then a little later they should have left perhaps in going through Le Pip perhaps again he may have started as soon as he heard without waiting for them in that case he might be here at any moment but the fall of night brought no one and it was only about seven o'clock that the sound of sleigh bells was heard and her father and the doctor arrived the latter came into the house alone put his bag on the table and began to pull off his overcoat grumbling all the while with the roads in this condition said he it is no small affair to get about and visit the sick and as for you folk you seem to have hidden yourselves as far in the woods as you could great heavens you might very well all die without a soul coming to help you after warming himself for a little while at the stove he approached the bedside well good mother so we have taken the notion to be sick just like people who have money to spend on such things but after a brief examination he sees to just saying she really is sick I do believe it was with no affectation that he spoke in the fashion of the peasantry his grandfather and his father were tillers of the soil and he had gone straight from the farm to study medicine in Quebec amongst other young fellows for the most part like himself grandsons if not sons of farmers who had all clung to the plain country manner and the deliberate speech of their fathers he was tall and heavily built with a grizzled moustache and his large face were the slightly aggrieved expression of one whose native cheerfulness is being continually dashed through listening to the tale of others ills for which he is bound to show a decent sympathy Chef Delanne came in when he had unharnessed and fed the horse he and his children sat at a little distance while the doctor was going through his program every one of them was thinking presently we shall know what is the matter and the doctor will give her the right medicines but when the examination was ended instead of turning to the bottles in his bag he seemed uncertain and began to ask interminable questions how had it happened and where particularly did she feel pain had she ever before suffered from the same trouble God seemed to enlighten him very much then he turned to the sick woman herself only to receive confused statements and complaints if it is just a wrench that she has given herself at length he announced she will get well without any meddling there's nothing for her to do but to stay quietly in bed but if there is some injury within to the kidneys or another organ it may be a grave affair he was conscious but his state of doubt was disappointing to the shabda lens and was anxious to restore his medical reputation internal lesions are serious things and often one cannot detect them the wisest men in the world could tell you no more than I we shall have to wait but perhaps it is not that we have to deal with after some further investigation he shook his head of course I can give something that will keep her from suffering like this another bag now disclosed its wonder working files 15 drops of a yellowish drug were diluted with two fingers of water and the sick woman lifted up in bed managed to swallow this with sharp cries of pain then there was apparently nothing more to be done the man fit with her pipes and the doctor with his feet against the stove held forth as to his professional labors and the cures he had wrought with these said he where one cannot discover precisely what is the matter are more baffling to a doctor than the gravest disorders like pneumonia now or even typhoid fever which carry off three quarters of the people hear about who do not die of old age while typhoid and pneumonia I cure these every month in the year you know viateur tremblé the postmaster at saint Henry should be the victim of an obscure malady hard to diagnose and had not been taken down with one of the two complaints he was accustomed to treat with such success and he gave an account by chapter and verse of the manner in which he had cured the postmaster of saint Henry from that they passed on to the country news news carried by word of mouth from house to house around Lake Saint John he treated a thousand fold more eagerly than tidings of wars and famines since the gossipers always managed to connect it with friend or relative in a country where all ties of kingship near or far are born scrupulously in mind Madame Chabdelaine seized the moaning and seemed to be asleep the doctor considering that he had done all that was expected of him for the evening at least knocked the ashes out of his pipe and he was supposed to go I shall sleep at en fleur said he I suppose your horse is fit to take me so far there's no need for you to come I know the road I shall stay with a friend so plenar and come back in the morning Chabdelaine was a little slow to make reply recalling the stiff day's work his old beast had already accomplished but at the end he went out to harness Charles Eugène once more in a few minutes the doctor leaving the family to themselves as usual a great stillness reigned in the house the comfortable thought was with them all anyway the medicine he has given her is a good one she groans no longer but scarce and hour had gone by before the sick woman seized to feel the effect of the two feeble drug became conscious again tried to turn herself in bed and screamed out with pain they were all up at once and crowding about her in their concern she opened her eyes and after groaning in an agonized way began to weep unrestrainedly oh some well I am dying there can be no doubt of it no no you must not think that yes I know that I am dying I feel it the doctor is only an old fool and he cannot tell what to do he's not even able to say the trouble is and the medicine he gave me is useless it has done me no good I tell you I am dying the failing words were hindered with her groaning and the tears cursed down the heavy cheeks husband and children looked at her struck to the very earth with grief the footstep of death was sounding in the house they knew themselves cut off from all the world helpless remote without even a horse to bring them sucker the cruel treachery of it all held them speechless and transfixed with streaming eyes in their midst appeared Eutrop Gagnon an eye who was thinking to find her almost well this doctor now Shabdelen broke out quite beside himself this doctor is not a bit of use and I shall tell him so plainly myself he came here he gave her a drop of some miserable stuff nothing at all in the bottom of a cup and he's off to sleep in the village as if his pay was earned not a thing has he done but tire out my horse but he shall not have a copper from me not a single copper Eutrop's face was very grave and he shook his head as he declared neither have I any faith in doctors now if we had only thought of fetching a bone-setter such a man as Titzébé of Saint Felicien every face was turned to him and the tears seized flowing Titzébé exclaimed Maria and you think he could help in a case like this both Eutrop and Shabdelen hastened to a vow their trust in him there's no doubt whatever that Titzébé can make people well he was never through the schools but he knows how to cure you heard of Nazaire Godreau who fell from the top of a barn and the doctors came to see him and the best they could do was to give the Latin name for his hurt and say that he was going to die then they went and fetched Titzébé and Titzébé cured him every one of them knew the healers' repute and hopes sprang up again in their hearts Titzébé is a first-rate man and a man who knows how to make sick people well moreover he's not greedy for money you go and you fetch him you pay him for his time and he cures you it was he who put little Romeo Boilly on his legs again after being run over by a wagon loaded with planks the sick woman had relapsed into stupor and was moaning feebly with her eyes closed I will go and get him if you like suggested Eutrop but what will you do for a horse asked Maria the doctor has Charles Eugène at Onfleur Shabdelen clenched his fist in wrath and bore through his teeth the old rascal Eutrop thought a moment before speaking it makes no difference I will go just the same if I walk to Onfleur I shall easily find somewhere there who will lend me a horse and sleigh Vasico or perhaps Old Néron it is 35 miles from here to Saint Felicien and the roads are heavy I will go just the same he departed forthwith looking as he went at a jock-draught over the snow of the grateful look that Maria had given him the family made ready for the night computing meanwhile these new distances 70 miles there and back roads deep in snow the lamp was left burning until morning the voice from the bed was never hushed sometimes it was sharp with pain sometimes it weakly strove for breath two hours after daylight the curé of Saint Henri appeared together it was impossible for me to come sooner the curé explained but I am here at last and I picked up the doctor in the village they sat at the bedside and talked in low tones the doctor made a fresh examination but it was the curé who told the result of it there is little one can say she does not seem any worse but this is not an ordinary sickness it is best that I should confess her and give her a solution then we shall both go away and be back again the day after tomorrow he returned to the bed and the others went over and sat by the window for some minutes the two voices were heard in question and response the one feeble and broken by suffering the other confident grave scarcely lowered for the solemn interrogation after some inaudible words a hand was raised in a gesture which instantly bowed the heads of all those in the house the priest rose before departing the doctor gave Maria a little bottle with instructions only if she should suffer greatly so that she cries out and never more than 15 drops at a time and do not let her have any cold water to drink she saw them to the door the bottle in her hand before getting into the sleigh the curé took Maria aside and spoke a few words to her doctors do what they can said he in a simple unaffected way but only God himself has knowledge of disease pray with all your heart and I shall say a mass for her tomorrow a high mass with music you understand all day long Maria strove to stay the hidden advances of the disorder with her prayers and every time that she returned to the bedside it was with a half hope that a miracle had been wrought in her groaning sleep for a few hours and awake restored to health it was not so to be the moaning ceased not but toward evening it died away to sighing continual and profound natures protest against the burden too heavy to be born or the slow inroad of death dealing poison about midnight came Eutrop Gagnon bring in Tizébé the bone-setter he was a little thin sad faced man with very kind eyes as always when called to a sick bed he wore his clothes of ceremony of dark well-worn cloth which he bore with the awkwardness of the peasant in Sunday attire but the strong brown hands beyond the threadbare sleeves moved in a way to inspire confidence they passed over the limbs and body of Madame Chabdeline with the most delicate care nor did they draw from her the cry of pain thereafter he sat for a long time motionless beside the couch looking at her as though awaiting guidance from a source beyond himself but when at last he broke the silence it was to say have you sent for the curi he has been here and will he return tomorrow that is well after another pause he made his franc avowal there's nothing I can do for her that has gone wrong within about which I know nothing where their broken bones I could have healed them I should only have had to feel them with my hands and then the good God would have told me what to do and I should have cured her but in this sickness of hers I have no skill I might indeed put a blister on her back and perhaps that would draw away the blood and relieve her for a time or I could give her a draft made from beaver kidneys it is useful when the kidneys are affected as is well known but I think that neither the blister nor the draft would work a cure his speech was so honest and straightforward that he made them, one and all feel what manner of thing was a disorder of the human frame the strangeness and the terror of what is passing behind the closed door which those without can only fight clumsily as they grope in dark uncertainty she will die if that be God's pleasure Maria broke into quiet tears her father not yet understanding sat with his mouth half open and neither moved nor spoke the bones set her the sentence given bowed his head and held his pitiful eyes for long upon the sick woman the brown hands that now availed him not lay upon his knees leaning forward a little his back bent a little sad spirit seemed in silent communion with its maker thou hast bestowed upon me the gift of healing bones that are broken and I have healed them but thou has denied me power over such ills as these so must I let this poor woman die for the first time now the deep marks of illness upon the mother's face appeared to husband and children as more than the passing traces of suffering as imprints from the hand of death the hard drawn breath rattling in her throat no longer betoken conscious pain but was the last blind remonstrance of the body rent by nearing dissolution you do not think she will die before the cure comes back? Maria asked titsibé head and hand showed that he was helpless to answer I cannot tell if your horse is able their eyes searched the window as yet only a square of darkness and then returned to her who lay upon the bed but five days ago a hearty high-spirited woman in full health of mind and body it could not be that she was to die so soon as that but knowing now the sad inevitableness every glance found a subtle change some fresh token that this bed ridden woman groaning in her blindness was no more the wife and mother they had known so long half an hour went by after casting his eyes towards the window Shaptelaine arose hurriedly saying I'm going to put the horse in titsibé nodded that is well you had better harness it is near day yes I am going to put the horse in Shaptelaine repeated but at that moment his departure it swept over him suddenly that in going to bring the blessed sacrament he would be upon a solemn and a final errand significant of death the thought held him still irresolute I am going to put the horse in shifting from foot to foot he gave a last look at his wife and at length went out not long after the coming of day the wind rose and soon was sounding about the house it is from the northwest there will be a blow said titsibé Maria looked toward the window inside only two days ago snow fell and now it will be raised and drift the roads were heavy enough before father and the curée are going to have trouble getting through but the bone setter shook his head they may have a little difficulty on the road but they will get here all the same a priest who brings the blessed sacrament has more than the strength of a man his mild eyes shown with the faith that knows no bounds yes power beyond the strength of a man has a priest bearing the blessed sacrament it was three years ago that they summoned me to care for a sick man on the lower mistassini at once I saw that I could do nothing for him and I bade them go fetch a priest it was night time and there was not a man in the house the father himself being sick and his boys quite young and so at the last it was I that went on the way back we had to cross the river the eyes had just gone out it was in the spring and as yet not a boat had been put into the water we found a great heavy tub that had been lying in the sand all winter and when we tried to run her down to the water she was buried so deep in the sand and was so heavy as could not so much as make her budge Simon Martel was there big la lancette of saint method a third I cannot call to mind and myself and we four hauling and shoving to break our hearts as we thought of this poor fellow on the other side of the river who was in the way of dying like a heathen could not steer that boat a single inch well the curée came forward he laid his hand on the gunwale just laid his hand on the gunwale like that give one more shove said he and the boat seemed to start off herself and slipped down to the water as though she were alive the sick man received the sacrament alright and died like a Christian just as day was breaking yes a priest has strength beyond the strength of man Maria was still sighing but her heart discovered a melancholy peace in the certainty and nearness of death the unknown disorder the dread of what might be coming these were dark and terrifying phantoms against which one strove blindly uncomprehendably but when one was face to face with death itself all to be done was plain ordained these many centuries by laws beyond dispute by day or night from far or near the curée comes bearing the holy sacrament across angry rivers in the spring over the treacherous eyes the roads choked with snow fighting the bitter northwest wind aided by miracles he never fails he fulfills his sacred office and thence forward there is room for neither doubt nor fear death is but a glorious preferment a door that opens to the joys unspeakable of the elect the wind had risen and was shaking the partitions as windowpains rattle in a sudden gust the norwester came howling over the dark treetops fell upon the clearing about the little wooden buildings house, stable barn and squalls and wicked whirlwinds that sought to lift the roof and smote the walls like a battering ram before sweeping onward to the forest in a baffled fury the house trembled from base to chimney top and swayed on its foundation in such a fashion that the inmates feeling the onslaught hearing the roar and shriek of the foe were almost as sensible of the terrors of the storm as though they were exposed to it lacking the consciousness of safe retreat that belongs to those who are sheltered by strong walls of stone titsibé cast his eyes about the good house you have here tightly made and worn your father and the boys built it did they not? moreover you must have a good bit of land cleared by this time so loud was the wind that they did hear the sound of sleigh bells and suddenly the door flew open against the wall and the curée of Saint Henry entered bearing the host in his raised hands Maria and titsibé fell upon their knees titsibé ran to shut the door then also knelt the priest put off the heavy fur coat and the cap white with snow drawn down to his eyes and instantly approached the sick bed as heavens envoy bringing peace ah the assurance the comfort of the divine promise which dispels the awful mists of death while the priest performed the sacred rites and his low words mingled with the size of the dying woman Samuel Chabdelen and his children were praying with bended heads in some sword consoled released from anxiousness and doubt confident that a sure pact was then concluding with the almighty for the blue skies of paradise spangled with stars of gold as a rightful heritage afterwards the curée warmed himself by the stove then they prayed together for a time kneeling by the bed toward four o'clock the wind leaped to the southeast and the storm ended swiftly as a broken wave sinks backward from the shore in the strange deep silence after the tumult the mother sighed sighed once again and died End of Chapter 14 Chapter 15 of Maria Chabdelen this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Maria Chabdelen by Louis Emond translated by W. H. Blake Chapter 15 that we perish not Ifremso Prenant pushed open the door and stood upon the threshold I have come he found no other words and waited there motionless for a few seconds tongue tied while his eyes traveled from Chabdelen to Maria from Maria to the children who sat very still and quiet by the table then he plucked off his cap hastily as if in amends for his forgetfulness shut the door behind him and moved across to the bed where the dead woman lay they had altered its place turning the head to the wall and the foot toward the center of the house so that it might be approached on both sides close to the wall two lighted candles stood on chairs one of them set in a large candlestick of white metal which the visitors to the Chabdelen home had never seen before while for holding the other Maria had found nothing better than a glass bowl used in the summertime for blueberries and wild raspberries on days of ceremony the candlestick shone the bowl sparkled in the flames which lighted but feebly the face of the dead the days of suffering through which she had passed or death's final chill had given the features a strange pallor and delicacy the refinement of a woman bread in the city father and children were first amazed and then perceived in this the tremendous consequence of her translation beyond and far above them Ephraim Soprenan bent his eyes upon the face for a little and then kneeled the prayers he began to murmur were inaudible but when Maria and T'be came and knelt beside him he drew from a pocket his string of large beads and began to tell them in a low voice the chaplet ended he sat himself in silence by the table shaking his head sadly from time to time as if seemingly in the house of mourning and because his own grief was deep and sincere at last he discovered speech it is a heavy loss you were fortunate in your wife Samuel no one may question that truly you were fortunate in your wife this said he could go no further he sought in vain for some words of sympathy and at the end stumbled into other talk the weather is quite mild this evening we soon shall have rain everyone is saying that it is to be an early spring to the countrymen all things touching the soil which gives him bread and the alternate seasons which lull the earth to sleep and awaken it to life are of such moment that one may speak of them even in the presence of death with no disrespect their eyes turned quite naturally but the night was black and they could discern nothing Efrem Soprenin began anew to praise her who was departed in all the parish there was not a braver spirited woman than she nor a cleverer housewife how friendly too and what a kind welcome she always gave a visitor in the old parishes yes, and even in the towns on the railway not many would be found to match her it is only the truth to say that you are not included in your wife soon afterwards he rose and leaving the house his face was dark with sorrow a long silence followed in which Samuel shoved the lens head nodded slowly towards his breast and it seemed as though he were falling asleep Maria spoke quickly to him in fear of his offending father, do not sleep no, no he set up straight on his chair and squared his shoulders and right of him he stood up hastily saying let us recite another chaplet kneeling together beside the bed they told the chaplet bead by bead rising from their knees they heard their vain patter against the window and on the shingles it was the first spring rain and proclaimed their freedom the winter ended the soil soon to reappear rivers once more running their joyous course the earth again transformed like some lovely girl released at last an evil spell by touch of magic wand but they did not allow themselves to be glad in this house of death nor indeed did they feel the happiness of it in the midst of their hearts deep affliction opening the window they moved back to it and hearkened to the tapping of the great drops upon the roof Maria saw that her father's head had fallen and that he was very still she thought his evening drowsiness was mastering him again but when about to awaken him with a word the mother was who sighed and began to speak Ephraim Suprenan said no more than the truth your mother was a good woman Maria you will not find her like Maria's head answered him yes but her lips were pressed close full of courage and good counsel that she has been throughout her life but it was chiefly in the early days after we were married and then again when Esdras and yourself were little that she showed herself the woman she was of a small farmer looks for no easy life but women who take to their work as well and as cheerfully as she did in those days Maria are hard to find Maria faltered I know father I know it well and she dried her eyes for her heart was melting into tears when we took up our first land at Normandin we had two cows and very little pasture for them as nearly all our lot was in standing timber and hard to win for the plow as for me I picked up my axe and I said to her Laura I am going to clear land for you and from morning till night it was chop chop chop without ever coming back to the house except for dinner and all that time she did the work of the house and the cooking she looked after the cattle mended the fences cleaned the cow shed never rested from her toiling and then half a dozen times a day she would come outside the door looking at me over there by the fringe of the woods where I was putting my bag into felling the birches and the spruce to make a patch of soil for her then in the month of July our well must needs dry up the cows had not a drop of water to slake their thirst and they almost stopped giving milk so when I was hard at it in the woods the mother went off to the river with a pail in either hand and climbed the steep bluff with her with these brimming and her feet that slipped back in the running sand till she had filled the barrel and when the barrel was full she got it onto a wheelbarrow and wheeled it off herself to empty it into the big tub in the cow pasture more than 300 yards from the house just below the rocks it was not a woman's work and I told her often enough to leave it to me but she always spoke up briskly don't you think about that would anything clear a farm for me and she would laugh to cheer me up but I saw well enough this was too much for her and that she was all dark under the eyes with the labor of it well I cut up my axe and was off to the woods and I laid into the birches so lustily the chips flew as thick as your wrist all the time saying to myself that the wifi had was like no other and that if the good god only kept me in health I would make her the best farm in the countryside the rain was ever sounding on the roof now and then Augusta drove against the window great drops which ran down the pains like slow falling tears yet a few hours of rain and the soil would be bare streams would dance down every slope a few more days and they would hear the thundering of the falls when we took up other land above Mistassini it was the same thing over again heavy work and hardship for both of us alike but she was always full of courage and in good heart we were in the midst of the forest but as there were some open spaces of rich grass among the rocks we took to raising sheep one evening he was silent for a little and when he began speaking again his eyes were fixed intently upon Maria as though he wished to make very clear to her what he was about to say it was in September the time when all the great creatures of the woods become dangerous for Mistassini who was coming down the river in a canoe landed near our place and spoke to us this wise look after your sheep the bears came and killed a hyfer last week quite close to the houses so your mother and I went off that evening to the pasture to drive sheep into the pen for the night so that the bears would not devour them I took one side and she the other as the sheep used to scatter among the alders it was growing dark and settling I heard Laura cry out oh the scoundrels some animals were moving in the bushes and it was plain to see they were not sheep because in the woods toward evening sheep are white patches so axe in hand I started off running as hard as I could later on when we were on the way back to the house your mother told me all about it she had come across a sheep lying dead and two bears that were just going to eat it now it takes a pretty good man one not easily frightened and with a gun in his hand to face a bear in September as for a woman empty handed the best thing she can do is to run for it and not a soul will blame her but your mother snatched a stick from the ground and made straight for the bears screaming at them our beautiful fat sheep be off with your you ugly thieves or I will do for you I got there at my best speed leaping over the stumps but by the time the bears had cleared off into the woods without showing fight scared as could be because she had put the fear of death into Maria listen breathlessly asking herself if it was really her mother who had done this thing the mother whom she had always known so gentle and tender hearted who had never given tell his father little wrap on the head without afterwards taking him on her knees to comfort him adding her own tears to his and declaring that to slap a child was something to break one's heart the brief spring shower was already spent through the clouds the moon was showing her face eager to discover what was left of the winter snow after this earliest rain as yet the ground was everywhere white the night's deep silence told them that many days must pass before they would hear again the dull roaring of the cataract but the tempered breeze whispered of consolation and promise Samuel Chabdelen lapsed into silence for a while his head bowed his hands resting upon his knees dreaming of the past with its toilsome years that were yet so full of brave hopes when he took up his tale it was in a voice that halted melancholy with self-reproach at Normandin, at Mystacini and the other places we have lived I always worked hard no one can say nay to that many an acre of forest have I cleared and I have built houses and barns all was saying to myself that one day we should have a comfortable farm where your mother would live as do the women in the old parishes with fine smooth fields all about the house as far as the eye could see a kitchen garden handsome well-fed cattle in the farm yard and after it all here is she dead in this half-savage spot leagues from the other houses and churches and so near the bush that some nights one can hear the foxes bark and it is my fault that she has died so my fault remorse sees them he shook his head at the pity of it his eyes upon the floor many times it happened after we had spent five or six years in one place and all had gone well that we were beginning to get together in nice property, good pastureage broad fields ready for sowing a house lined inside with pictures papers then people came and settled about us we had but to wait a little working on quietly and soon we should have been in the midst of a well-to-do settlement where Laura could have passed the rest of her days in happiness and then all of a sudden I lost heart I grew sick and tired of my work and off the countryside I began to hate the very faces of those who had taken up land nearby and used to come to see us thinking we should be pleased to have a visitor after being so long out of the way of them I heard people saying that farther off toward the head of the lake there was good land in the forest that some folk from Saint Gédéon spoke of settling over on that side and forthwith I began to hunger and thirst for this spot they were talking about that I had never seen in my life and were not a soul lived as for the place of my birth well in those days when the work was done instead of smoking beside the stove I would go out to the doorstep and sit there without moving like a man homesick and lonely and everything I saw in front of me the place I had made with these two hands after so much of labour and sweat the fields the fences over to the rocking knoll that shuts us in I detested them all till I seemed ready to go out of my mind at the very sight of them and then your mother would come quietly up behind me she also would look out across our place and I knew that she was pleased with it to the bottom of her heart because it was beginning to look like the old parish where she had grown up and where she would so gladly have spent her days but instead of telling me that I was no better than a silly old fool for wishing to leave as most women would have done and finding hard things to say about my folly she only sighed a little as she thought of the drudgery that was to begin all over again somewhere back in the woods and kindly and softly she would say to me well Samuel are we soon to be on the move once more when she said that I could not answer for I was speechless with very shame at thinking of the wretched life I had given her but I knew well enough that it would end in our moving again and pushing on to the north deeper into the woods and that she would be with me and take her share in this hard business of beginning anew as cheerful and capable and good-humored as ever without one single word of reproach or spitefulness he was silent after that and seemed to ponder along his sorrow and the things which might have been Maria sighing past a hand across her face as though she would brush away at this quieting vision but in very truth there was nothing she wished to forget she heard had moved her profoundly and she felt a dim and troubled way that this story of a hard life so bravely lived had for her a deep and timely significance and held some lesson if only she might understand it how little do we know people was the thought that filled her mind since her mother had crossed the threshold of death she seemed to wear a new aspect not of this world and now all the homely and familiar traits bearing her to them were being overshadowed by other virtues well nigh heroic in their quality to pass her days in these lonely places when she would have dearly loved the society of other human beings and the unbroken piece of village life to strive from dawn till nightfall spending all her strength in a thousand heavy tasks and yet from dawn till nightfall never losing patience nor her happy tranquility continually to see about her only the wilderness the great pitiless forest and to hold in the midst of it all an ordered way of life the gentleness and the joyousness which are the fruits of many a century sheltered from such rudeness was it not surely a hard thing and a worthy and the recompense after death a little word of praise was it worth the cost the question scarcely framed itself with such clearness in her mind but so her thoughts were tending thus to live as hardly as courageously and to be so sorely missed when she departed few women were fit for this as for herself the sky flooded with moonlight was of a wonderful lambency and depth across the whole arch of heaven a band of cloud fashioned strangely into a carbon shapes defiled in solemn march the white ground no longer spoke of chill and desolateness for the air was soft and by some magic of the approaching spring the snow appeared to be only a mask covering the earth's space and no wise terrifying a mask one knew must soon be lifted Maria seated by the little window fixed her unconscious eyes upon the sky and the fields stretching away white lead to the enviring woods and of a sudden it was born to her that the question she was asking herself had just received its answer to dwell in this land as her mother had dwelt and dying thus to leave behind her a soaring husband and a record of the virtues of her race she knew in her heart she was fit for that and reckoning with herself there was no trace of vanity rather did the response seem from without yes she was able and she was filled with wonderment as though at the shining of some unlooked for light thus she too could live but it was not as yet in her heart so to do in a little while this season of morning at an end Lorenzo Soprenna would come back from the states for the third time and would bear her away to the unknown delights of the city away from the great forest she hated away from that cruel land where men who go astray perish helplessly where women endure endless torment while the wild ineffectual aid is sought for them over the long roads buried in snow why should she stay here to toil and suffer when she might escape to the lands of the south in a happier life the soft breeze telling of spring came against the window bringing a confusion of gentle sands the swish and sigh of branches swaying and touching one another the distant hooting of an owl the silence reigned once more Samuel Chabdelen was sleeping but in this repose beside the dead was nothing unseemingly or wanting in respect chin falling on his breast hands lying on his knees he seemed to be plunged into the very depths of sorrow or striving to relinquish life that he might follow that departed a little way into the shades again Maria asked herself why would she stay here to toil and suffer thus why and when she found no answer it befell at length that out of the silence and the night voices arose no miraculous voices were these each of us hears them when he goes apart and withdraws himself far enough to escape from the petty turmoil of his daily life but they speak more loudly and with plainer accents to the simple hearted to those who dwell among southern woods and in the empty places of the earth while yet Maria was dreaming of the city's distant wonders the first voice brought murmuringly to her memory a hundred forgotten charms of the land she wished to flee the marvel of the reappearing earth in the springtime after the long months of winter the dreaded snow stealing away in prankish rivulets down every slope the tree roots first resurgent the mosses drenched with wet soon the ground freed from its burden were on one treads with the lighted glances and size of happiness like the sick man who feels glad life returning to his veins later yet the birches alters aspen swelling into bud the laurel clothing itself in rosy bloom the rough battle with the soil a seeming holiday to men no longer condemned to idleness to draw the hard breath of toil from mourn till eve a gracious favor the cattle at last to set free from their shed gallop to the pasture and glut themselves with the fresh grass all the newborn creatures the calves, the fowls, the lambs gamble in the sun and add daily to their stature like the hay and the barley the poorest farmer sometimes halts in yard or field hands in pockets and tastes the great happiness of knowing that the sun's heat the warm rain the earth's unstinted alchemy every mighty force of nature is working as a humble slave for him for him and then the summer tide the glory of sunny noons the heated quivering air that blurs the horizon and the outline of the forest the flies swarming and circling in the sun's rays and but 300 paces from the house the rapids and the fall against dark water their mere sight of it filling one with a delicious coolness in its due time the harvest the grain that gives life heaped into the barns then, autumn and soon the returning winter but here was the marvel of it that the winter seemed no longer abhorrent or terrifying it broadened its train the sweet intimacies of a house shut fast and beyond the door with the sameness and soundlessness of deep drifted snow peace a great peace in the cities where the strange and wonderful things were of Lorenzo Soprenà had told with others that she pictured to herself confusedly white streets effused with light gorgeous shops an easy life of little toil with a round of small pleasures and distractions perhaps though one would come too tired of this restlessness and yearning some evening only for repose and quiet where one would discover the tranquility of field and wood the soft touch of that cooler air that draws from the northwest after set of sun the widespreading peacefulness that settles on the earth sinking to untroubled sleep and yet they must be beautiful thought she still dreaming of those vast American cities as though in answer a second voice was raised over there was not a stranger land where people of an alien race spoke of unfamiliar things in another tongue sang other songs here the very names of this her country those she listened to every day those heard but once came crowding to memory a thousand names piously best owed by peasants from France on rivers on the settlements of the new country they were discovering and peopling as they went la calo claire la famine saint carre de marie trois pistoles saint rose du de gel pointe aux outards saint adrins de la puvant an uncle of her trope-gagnons lived at saint andré de la puvant rascicot of en fleur spoke often of his son who was a stalker on a gulf coaster and every time new names were added to the old names of fishing villages and little harbors on the saint laurence scattered here and there along those shores between which the ships of the old days had boldly sailed towards an unknown land pointe mille vache la cesse humain Notre-Dame du portage les grandes bergerones on gaspe how sweet to hear these names where one was talking of distance acquaintance and king spoke or telling of far journeys how dear and neighborly was the sound of them with a heartwarming friendly ring that made one feel as he spoke them throughout all this land we are at home at home westward beyond the borders of the province southward across the line where everywhere none but English names in time one might learn to speak them even might they at last come familiarly to the ear but where should one find again the happy music of the French names words of a foreign speech from every lip on every street in every shop little girls taking hands to dance around and singing a song one could not understand here Maria turned toward her father who still slept with his chin sunk on his breast looking like a man stricken down by grief whose meditation is of death and the look brought her swift memory of the hymns and country songs he was want to teach his children in the evenings a la claire fontaine a la lampe romne in those cities of the states even if one taught the children how to sing them would they not straight away forget the clouds a little while ago drifting singly across a moonlight sky were now spread over the heavens in a fast filmy curtain and the dim light passing through it was caught by the earth's pale coverlet of melting snow between the two wind expanses the ranks of the forest darkly stretched their long battlefront Maria shuddered the emotion which had glowed in her heart was dying once again she said to herself and yet it is a harsh land this land of ours why should I linger here then it was that a third voice mightier than the others lifted itself up in the silence the voice of Quebec now the song of a woman now the exhortation of a priest it came to her with the sound of a church bell with the majesty of an organ's tones like a plaintive love song like the long high call of woodsmen in the forest for verily there was in it all that makes the soul of a province beloved solemnities of the ancestral faith the lilt of that old speech guarded with jealous care the grandeur and the barbaric strength of this new land where an ancient race has again found its youth thus spake the voice 300 years ago we came and we have remained they who let us hither might return among us without knowing shame or sorrow for if it be true that we have little learned most surely nothing is forgot we bore overseas our prayers and our songs they are ever the same we carried in our bosoms the heart of the man of our fatherland brave and merry easily moved to pity as to laughter of all human hearts the most human nor have they changed we trace the boundaries of a new continent from Gaspe to Montreal from Saint-Jean-des-Bervilles to Angover saying as we did it within these limits all we brought with us our faith, our tongue our virtues, our very weaknesses our hands forth hollered things which no hand may touch which shall endure to the end strangers have surrounded us whom it is our pleasure to call foreigners they have taken into their hands most of the rule they have gathered to themselves much of the wealth but in this land of Quebec nothing has changed nor shall anything change for we are the pledge of it concerning ourselves and our destiny but one duty have we clearly understood that we should hold fast should endure and we have held fast so that it may be many say