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Updated: June 6, 2025
Armand, "so that in years to come, when she hears of all your exploits, she will be proud that she had the honor. Jeanne Angelot is the small maid's name. And this is our brave General Wayne, who has persuaded the Indians to peace and amity, and taught the English to keep their word. But he can fight as well as talk."
Jeanne Angelot would need a wider life than this, and, if unduly narrowed, would spring over the traces. "You think M. Bellestre means to come?" "He has put it off to next year now. There is so much unrest and uncertainty all over the country, that at present he cannot leave his business." St. Armand sighed softly, thinking of Jeanne. "Would you show the clothes and the trinkets?"
The Sieur Angelot advised better fortifications and a larger garrison. Many points were examined and found weak. The general government had been appealed to, but the country was poor and could hardly believe, in the face of all the treaties, there could be danger.
In these three years there had been months that he had never thought of Jeanne Angelot, and he might have let her slip from his memory but for a slender thread that interested him, and of which he at last held the clew. If he found her unmarried well, a marriage with him would advance her interests, if not was it worth while to take trouble that could be of no benefit to one's self?
It is sinful to allow so many young people to grow up in ignorance," declared the elder St. Armand. "Most of our girls of the better class are sent to Montreal or Quebec," exclaimed Madame Fleury. "The English have governesses. And there is the Recollet school; there may be places outside the stockade." Monsieur Fleury shook his head uncertainly. "Angelot, Angelot," he repeated.
He was handing her off. The crowd, not very large, indeed, was all a blur before her eyes. She touched the ground, then she dropped on her knees. "No, no," to some one who would have raised her. "I must say a prayer, for I have come back to my own loved Detroit, my home. Oh, let me give thanks." "The saints be praised! It is Jeanne Angelot." She rose as suddenly as she had knelt.
"Yes, yes," and they rushed in search of the captain, wild with superstition and excitement. It was really Jeanne Angelot. She had been rescued and left at Bois Blanc, and then taken over to another island. A pretty, sweet young girl and no ghost, Jeanne Angelot by name. Jeanne sped on like a sprite, drawing her cap over her face.
"Strange there should be a kind that makes one afraid." At ten the "Flying Star" went up the river. "Thou hast been a foolish girl, Jeanne Angelot!" declared one of the neighbors. "Think how thou mightst have gone up the river on a wedding journey, and a handsome young husband such as falls to the lot of few maids, with money in plenty and furs fit for a queen.
"Oh, yes, Madame. Some one took good care of that. It was written on a paper pinned to me; and," laughing, "pricked into my skin so I could not deny it. It is Jeanne Angelot. But there are no Angelots in Detroit." Miladi grasped her arm so tightly that Jeanne's breath came with a flutter. "Are there none? Are you quite sure?" There was a strained sound in her voice wont to be so musical.
But I shall remember you with gratitude. May I ask your name?" "It is Jeanne Angelot," she said simply. "Oh, then I ought to know you do know you a little. My father is the Sieur St. Armand." "Oh!" Jeanne gave a little cry of delight. "And I have a message for you. I was coming to find you to-morrow." "Monsieur may take cold in his wet clothes, Jeanne. We ought to go a little faster," said Pani.
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