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Updated: June 11, 2025
"You mean that before we take you ." "You must catch me." "I own that is hard to do, considering my first experience, but it will be done all the same." "Never!" exclaimed Zulma, with a flush on her cheek. "I repeat it and mark me it shall be done." And after a little more pleasantry, the party separated. On their way homeward, Sieur Sarpy lightly questioned his daughter.
The young officer recovered full possession of his senses and the two rode briskly homeward in the roseate twilight which to them seemed the harbinger of a happy dawn flushed with the glories of an Eastern sunrise. The next day Cary Singleton sat with Zulma and her father in a room of the Sarpy mansion.
Pointe-aux-Trembles, or Aspen Point, in the vicinity of which stood the mansion and the estates of the Sarpy family, is a little more than twenty miles above Quebec, on the north shore of the St. Lawrence. The road which connects it with the city follows pretty regularly the sinuous line of the river.
"It was an epic march!" cried Zulma rising from her seat and pouring out wine into the glasses on the table. Sieur Sarpy pledged his guest in a bumper of Burgundy. And the compliment was deserved. That march of the Continental army was one of the most remarkable and heroic on record. In the fortnight that followed, Zulma and Cary met nearly every day, sometimes more than once a day.
Another circumstance deserving of mention is that the young rifleman's visits to the Sarpy mansion were so conducted as to be a secret to his companions-in-arms. There was a purpose in this, although neither Cary, nor Zulma, nor M. Sarpy ever exchanged a word about it together. The stay of the Continental army at Pointe-aux-Trembles was only temporary.
When Batoche became possessed of this important intelligence he immediately repaired to the Sarpy mansion and acquainted Zulma with it. "I wonder who are the kind friends that have taken him in," said Zulma, after lamenting this new danger that threatened her friend. "Can't you guess?" asked Batoche, and his knowing smile went straight to the heart of his companion. "I hope that you guess true."
Pauline had come with Eugene Sarpy, as that young gentleman himself testified when he entered the house in noisy boyish fashion, after having put up the horse. It was a holiday at the Seminary where the youth was immured, and he had the opportunity to drive out to the old home once more.
He was too young, for one thing, and, for another, he was not sufficiently acquainted with the circumstances of the case. He added, glancing with ardour at the two fair girls beside him, that they would be better able to determine the question, Mademoiselle Belmont taking counsel of her father's welfare, and Mademoiselle Sarpy speaking for the benefit of her dearest friend.
Sieur Sarpy looked at his curious interlocutor with renewed interest, not unblended with concern. "I have come from, and in the name of, M. Belmont. He knows of my plan and has tried to dissuade me from it. But in vain. He might warn Bouchette or betray me to the garrison, but he is too loyal to France for that. He respects my secret.
He would thus be relieved of much unnecessary suffering, at the same time that he would be out of the way of doing you further mischief. After some hesitation, I accepted this proposal of my friend, and here I am to communicate it to you." "I do not accept," said M. Sarpy curtly and decidedly. "I would be ashamed to have a countryman of mine a prisoner in my house.
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