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"I venture to hope your appetite has not suffered because of long absence from your friends." He could only dumbly answer by a protesting motion of the hand, and his smile was not remarkably buoyant. The next morning they started on their moose-hunt. Gregory Thorne was cast down when he crossed the threshold into the winter morning without hand-clasp or god-speed from Margaret Malbrouck; but Mrs.
It was making for the trees exactly what Malbrouck desired. He deftly threw the rope round a sapling, but not too taut, lest the moose's horns should be injured. The plucky animal now turned on him. He sprang behind a tree, and at that instant he heard the thud of hoofs behind him. He turned to see a huge bull-moose bounding towards him. He was between two fires, and quite unarmed.
While in his bed he told me what he knew of the Malbroucks. "This is the fashion of it. John and Audrey Malbrouck had come to Quebec in the year 1865, and sojourned in the parish of St. Genevieve, in the house of the mother of Pretty Pierre.
They had now left only eight days in which to get back to Dog Ear River and Marigold Lake. If the young moose was to come it must come soon. It came soon. They chanced upon a moose-yard, and while the Indians were beating the woods, Malbrouck and Gregory watched. Soon a cow and a young moose came swinging down to the embankment.
She wore it as if born to it; and with an air more sedately courteous than he had ever seen, save at one house in Park Lane. Had this rustle of fine trappings been made for him? No; the woman had a mind above such snobbishness, he thought. He suffered for a moment the pang of a cynical idea; but the eyes of Mrs. Malbrouck were on him and he knew that he was as nothing before her.
"But I tell you I shall have that live moose, if I have to stay here to see it grow." And Malbrouck liked his pluck, and wished him good luck. And the good luck came. They travelled back slowly to the Height of Land, making a circuit. For a week they saw no more moose; but meanwhile Gregory's hurt quickly healed.
Then, however, these people seemed to become suddenly poorer, and Malbrouck began farming in a humble, but not entirely successful way. The energy of the man was prodigious; but his luck was sardonic. Floods destroyed his first crops, prices ran low, debt accumulated, foreclosure of mortgage occurred, and Malbrouck and the wife and child went west.
Answer, what art thou?" And he, with a touch of his old insolence, though with something of irony too, for he had hoped for a different fashion of greeting, said: "All, lady, all! The Olympian all! The player of many parts. I am Touchstone, Jacques, and yet Orlando too." "And yet Orlando too, my daughter," said Malbrouck, gravely. "He saved your father from the hoofs of a moose bent on sacrifice.
All the tale of the hunt was given by Malbrouck to joyful ears; for the mother lived again her youth in the sunrise of this romance which was being sped before her eyes; and the father, knowing that in this world there is nothing so good as courage, nothing so base as the shifting eye, looked on the young man, and was satisfied, and told his story well; told it as a brave man would tell it, bluntly as to deeds done, warmly as to the pleasures of good sport, directly as to all.
What an ass I was! Why, the Man's name was Malbrouck; her name was Malbrouck awful insolence! But surely there was something in the story of the song itself that had moved her. As I afterward knew, that was it.
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