The firm attitude of the New York assembly met the approbation of all the colonists, where republican principles were constantly on the increase. The young American Eagle was quickened in the egg, and it only needed to break the thin shell to spread its pinions and soar away to liberty. While there was further danger from France, the American colonies clung to the mother country. The famous treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, in 1748, produced peace in Europe and caused a lull only in the warfare in America. In that ancient city of Rhenish Prussia, where Charlemagne was born and where he died and where fifty-five emperors have been crowned, the representatives of Great Britain, France, Holland, Germany, Spain and Genoa signed a solemn treaty, which ended a war begun in 1740. That was the consequence of the ascension of the throne of Austria by Maria Theresa in conformity to the "Progmatic Sanction"—a royal ordinance-of her father, Charles VI. of Germany, made in 1713. That treaty confirmed six other treaties, which had been made in the space of a century; and hopeful men looked for the peace of the millennium; but the treaty was delusive, and, in the American colonies, it was only the lull before the storm, which, for a few years longer, was to make the English colonies in America endure the intolerant tyranny of royal governors. CHAPTER IX. THE INTERRUPTED WEDDING. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, -GRAY. It was September, 1755, that delightful season of all seasons in Acadia. The balmy air, deprived of its excessive heat and not yet chilled by the early breath of Autumn, fanned the cheek of pretty Adrianne Blanc, as she gazed across the fields and meadows of Grand Pre. The village among the emerald hills lay like a pearl in an oyster shell not half a mile away; but through the dreamy misty fog it seemed much farther. The sun was just climbing the eastern shores and hills and tipping the church spires with golden light. Twenty-five years had wrought but little change in Grand Pre. The broad, low meadows, spreading away before the eyes, gleamed with golden- rods, whose fires, unquenched in the morning dews, sparkled with a brighter lustre. The fields of golden grain, which harvesters were gathering for the winter's supply, seemed to speak of peace and abundance. Acadia was happy, and no maid in all the land was more happy on this early morn than Adrianne. She had cause to be happy, for this was to be her wedding day. At high noon she was to wed the man she loved best, Jean Baptiste De Barre, one of the most popular young men in all the parish. As she stood by the gate, gazing down the long road, a handsome young English officer came riding by on his gayly caparisoned steed. His gaudy uniform, epaulets, sword hilt, gold cord and tassels, flashing in the morning sunlight, seemed ablaze with glory. His prancing steed went past the cottage of Madame Blanc without pausing, the rider not even turning his eyes toward the maiden at the gate. This was something remarkable, especially as the officer was young and handsome, and the maiden at the gate was very pretty. Few persons are willing to miss a glance at a young and pretty face. Adrianne knew the officer, and she turned instinctively away as the haughty Briton rode past. There was a story connected with this young officer and the maiden at the gate. He had been at Grand Pre ever since June. He was Henry Winslow, a nephew of John Winslow, major-general of the Massachusetts militia. Soon after his arrival, the pretty face and bright eyes of the mademoiselle attracted his attention and he sought her acquaintance; but a youthful Acadian, Jean Baptiste De Barre, had already won the heart of the Mademoiselle. The light hair and blue eyes of Jean might lead one to suspect that he was an Anglo-Saxon rather than of French extraction. Captain Winslow, depending on his rank and superior accomplishments, sought to win the mademoiselle despite her betrothal vows, and never for a moment doubted that he would succeed. To his amazement, all his accomplishments, rank and position, availed him nothing. He grew exasperated and threatened to call out the young Frenchman. He did do so; but Jean proved to be so skilful with the rapier, that, after twice wounding his antagonist, he disarmed and humiliated him. Captain Winslow swore vengeance, and he never rode past the home of Adrianne, that his eyes did not flash with fury. "I wish he had not come this morning," Adrianne said to herself. "There is something evil in his look." It would not be many hours ere she would wed Jean, and then she felt that no harm could befall her. Nearer to the village, in one of the largest and most pretentious houses, lived Pierre De Barre, the father of Jean Baptiste. Monsieur De Barre was a quiet, unassuming man, who had devoted his life, ambition and energies to his wife Adele, as long as she lived; but Adele had been five years in her grave, sleeping by the side of her father, Monsieur De Vere, and two infant children gone before. Monsieur De Barre and Jean, his only heir, lived alone in their home at Grand Pre. Monsieur De Barre took but little interest in the politics of his wretched country. He spoke both English and French fluently, and had taught both languages to his son. He was a moody, taciturn man, and there had been many strange stories about his early life. A servant, who had seen him bathing one day, reported that he had on his shoulder the number 39, as if burned into the flesh. This discovery was reported to two or three, until it reached the master's ears, and he ordered the slave, under pain of severe punishment, to deny the story. Monsieur De Barre was a hale old man, whose age might be anywhere from fifty to seventy years. His form was as erect as a soldier of twenty. He mingled little in society and, since his wife's death, seemed to live only for his son. All the broad acres and fine estates which were his, came through his wife, for there was a strange story of Monsieur De Barre, a poor ship-wrecked mariner, ro |
