The National tribune., 1882-02-18
A Day in Tadousac.

Rebecca Harding Davis, IN Our Continent.
When the head of the shipping firm of Freyteau
Wall ct Gle in Montreal sent young Noel as thei
agent along the lower st. Lawrence the othe
partners grumbled loudly. They were shrewt
Americans-Noel, a mere lad, Canadian-French
gay, croehety, wordy. He had, too, heavy sum:
to collect, and there was an ugly story afoat thai
his father had been professional gambler. Pierre
Noel now was old and imbecile, but his son per
sisted in taking him with him everywhere, and
paid him an exaggerated respect Wall ct Gle
grew very uneasy about their money. Blood
they said, would tell at last. But NJ. Freyteau
was obstinate in his ikings; he would not recall
the lad. All they could do was to send the
younger Wall to look him up now and then, and
to take a rigid account of his receipts.
1t never occurred TO Louis Noel that he was
suspected. Nothing short of blow on the face
would convince that careless fellow that anybody
was his enemy He made his headquarters at
the lonely village OF Tadousac for reason, and
he supposed the same reason brought James Wall
there
The two Rnen one August afternoon met in the
orchard OF an old pension behind the village.
The wind was frosty, and Noel brought bench
out from under the trees into the open sunshine
for young girl who was with them. James
Wall sat down upon it beside her, crossed his
stout legs comfortably, drew out the Quebec
paper, and looked at the quotations in lumber
Noel walked away He could not coroe near
Hester Page to-day. She had dropped word or
two to him last night, mere nothing when one
repeated it, yet very different from the cool,
o1nnSpd criticism yrifh which Sha had nat inn
heretofore. He had repeated the words thou
sand times TO himself to-day. Could it be?-
He could not speak to her before Wall He
feE as if he must cry out with this sudden mad
ness of hope that sent the blood through his body
like fame. He wandered about irresolutely,
climbed a tree for some russet pears for her, and
left them lying OF the grass, lighted a cigar,
smoked furiously and let it 90 out in his mouth,
then began TO sing with tremendous discordant
clatter.
Mr. Wall shuddered, then laughed, compass
sionately glancing at Miss Page. They were
both admirable musicians, and often sang together
with that accuracy and neatness of effect which
peculiarly marked the words and movements of
both.
These Canadians are restless in body and
AA1AO do SAdocAOppC1S' OesLucS w dl1 lIlCh ZONES
grew complacent and intimate with Miss Page.
Were they not both Americans? This Noel and
all unfortunate foreigners belonged to great
Ultima Thule outside of the States. She smiled.
looked deliberately at Louis then at Wall, then
down to the pale blue web she was netting.
What with her deiberation, the pale blue net,
the creamy gown fitting close to her neat
rounded figure, and her lustreless brown hair
and eyes, she made centre Of calm, of delicate
color, which suited the faded hue of the autumn
al day. Mr. Wall scanned her over his paper
pursing his thick lips with gusto. He had been
calculating her merits and defects for long time
but his mind was now made up. True, she had
not money enough to pay her share of the board
bills, nor brilliant beauty to push them on So
cially in Montreal. But some indefinable latent
power in the faint-colored calm little woman had
him. As much of the man as was not
given up to the lumber interest or to worship of
James Wall was genuinely in love with her. He
was poor man, greedy of money, yet he meant |
to marry this penniless Baptist minister's daugh-
ter. Why not tell her so at once?
NOEL" he called: here, NOEL" Ut was |
Just as well to let her know their relative posi-
tions and that this scampish fellow, whose infat-
uation for her was the talk of the village was |
only the paid servant of the frm.) II wish you |
to finish that report. l start for home tonight |
By the way, will take all your collections with
me-" Noel did not move. Dye hear? See to |
it at once"
"Chut! chut! No hurry" Louis lounged
over the low stone wall, looking down the noun
tain. Below him was the uneven street of Ia
dOusac cut through beetling gray cliffs; the old |
cottages, perched here and there, each sending
out through its steep red or yellow OF timed
roof sleepy drift of smoke. Lights shone
through the windows of the little ancient
church; the door was open he could see Grig-
neaux, the fat beadle, climbing into his high seat;
then came Father Matthieu up the hill, half
dozen children Of the habitans, with their wax
ike features and glittering black eyes, tugging
It his gown. At the foot of the hill rolled the
ilent, fathomless tide Of the Saguenay-that