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Updated: June 19, 2025
For two days, night, morning, noon, and afternoon, Geoffry Chester had silently speculated on what he was to see, hear, and otherwise experience when, as early as he might in keeping with the Chapdelaine dignity and his, he should pull the tiny brass bell-knob on their tall gate-post. Chapdelaine! Impressive, patrician title.
But to see this young man after seven years, and to hear his name spoken, aroused in Maria memories clearer and more lively than she was able to evoke of the events and sights of yesterday. "Francois Paradis! ... Why surely, father, I remember Francois Paradis." And Francois, content, gave answer to the questions of a moment ago. "No, Mr. Chapdelaine, I have not kept the farm.
The gun seemed to him both the surer and the more amusing way, and he was accustomed to picture to himself a tremendous duel, a lingering slaughter from which he would emerge without spot or blemish, forever set free from the wiles of the Evil One. Samuel Chapdelaine came into the house and supper was served.
Then once more the batten gate closed and the key grated between him and Aline marvellous, marvellous Aline Chapdelaine. The sunbeams of a tedious Sabbath began noticeably to slant.
Whenever the heat failed, mother Chapdelaine might be heard saying anxiously. "Don't let the fire out, children." Whereupon Maria, Tit'Be or Telesphore would open the little door, glance in and hasten to the pile of wood.
While waiting Upon them Madame Chapdelaine asked a hundred questions about the day's work, and when the vision arose before her of this patch of land they had cleared, superbly bare, lying ready for the Plough, her spirit was possessed with something of a mystic's rapture.
Above the candlestick of metal and the glass bowl the candle flames wavered under gentle breaths from the window, and shadows flitting across the face of the dead woman made her lips seem to be moving in prayer or softly telling secrets. Maria Chapdelaine awaked from her dream to the thought: "So I shall stay shall. stay here after all!"
"This is indeed a bit of luck, for I haven't seen you this long while, Francois. And your father dead too. Have you held on to the farm?" The young man did not answer; he was looking expectantly at Maria with a frank smile, awaiting a word from her. "You remember Francois Paradis of Mistassini, Maria? He has changed very little." "Nor have you, Mr. Chapdelaine.
"That is so," said Chapdelaine, "I can recall those days. Not a single house on the north side of the lake: no one but Indians and a few trappers who made their way up here in summer by canoe and in winter with dog-sleds, much as it is now in the Labrador." The young folk were listening keenly to these tales of former times.
For weeks Maria had been expecting him. Half an hour earlier the sound of a step without had sent the blood to her cheek, and yet the arrival of him she awaited moved her with joyous surprise. "Offer your chair, Da'Be!" cried mother Chapdelaine. Four callers from three different quarters converging upon her, truly nothing more was needed to fill her with delightful excitement.
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