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Updated: June 6, 2025
Songs that were so gay an hour ago took on a certain pensiveness, akin to the purple and dun stealing over the river. It moved Jeanne Angelot strangely; it gave her a sense of exaltation, as if she could fly like a bird to some strange country where a mother loved her and was waiting for her. When Louis Marsac spoke next to her she could have struck him in childish wrath.
When the wolves and the panthers and the bears howl at night one's blood runs chilly. But we are safe in the stockade." "There is much for thee to learn, little one," he said, after a pause. "There must be schools in the new country so that all shall not grow up in ignorance. Where is thy father?" Jeanne Angelot stared straight before her seeing nothing. Her father?
When their soldierly tread had ceased on the steps, Father Gilbert confronted the White Chief. "Your wife," he began in an authoritative tone, fixing his keen eyes on the Sieur Angelot, "your wife whom you tempted from her vows and unlawfully married is still alive. I think she can demand her child." Jeanne clung closer to her father and his inmost soul responded.
There is a gentleman here desirous of meeting her, and has a strange story for her ear. Can we have a private room " "Mademoiselle Jeanne Angelot is in the care of the Church and her mother, who has come to claim her;" was the emphatic reply. "Her mother!" The man beside the Commandant stepped forward. "Her mother is dead," he said, gravely.
Grave thoughts were stirring within her, the awakening of a new life on the side she had seen, but never known. The beautiful young women quite different from the gay, chattering demoiselles, their proudly held heads, their dignity, their soft voices, their air of elegance and refinement, all this Jeanne Angelot felt but could not have put into words, not even into thought.
And though for years I have been known as the White Chief, from a curious power I have gained over the Indians, the hunters, and traders, I am also known as the Sieur Angelot." He stood proudly before them, his handsome, weather-bronzed face bearing the impress of truth, his eyes shining with the clearest, highest honor.
He gave a sudden movement and would have kissed her mouth but she put her hand across it, and Pani, divining the endeavor, rose at the same instant. "Mam'selle Jeanne Angelot, you will repent this some day!" and his tone was bitter with revenge. Then he plunged down the street with an unsteady gait and was lost in the darkness. "Pani, come in, bar the door.
And all her warm, throbbing, eager life, her love for all human creatures, for all of God's works. Jeanne Angelot stood up very straight. Her laughing face grew almost severe. "I cannot do it. I belong to my father. You sent me to him once. I I love him." The mother turned and left the room. At that instant she could not trust herself to say farewell.
"He was my grandfather," returned the Sieur Angelot gravely. "We have been Huguenots for generations. More than one has died for his faith." "And he was a cousin to my father. I am, as you see, in the generation before you. And I am glad fate or fortune, as you will, has brought about this meeting.
"I desire to thank you most heartily, Monsieur St. Armand," M. Angelot began, "for an unusual interest in my child that I did not know was living until a few weeks ago. She is most enthusiastic about you. Indeed, I have been almost jealous." St. Armand smiled, and bowed gracefully. "I believe I shall prove to you that I had a right, and, if my discovery holds good, we are of some distant kin.
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