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"Some dirty work, very sure," said Jo Portugais, and his eyes travelled back over the dark water like a lynx's, for the splash was in his ear, and a sort of prescience possessed him. He could not stop his raft. It must go on down the current, or be swerved to the shore, to be fastened. "God knows, it had an ugly sound," said Jo Portugais, and again strained his eyes and ears.
She has come to take me, but I will not go." Fantasy after fantasy possessed him- fantasy, strangely mixed with facts of his own past. Now it was Kathleen, now Billy, now Jo Portugais, now John Brown, now Suzon Charlemagne at the Cote Dorion, again Jo Portugais. In strange, touching sentences he spoke to them, as though they were present before him.
The demeanour of the people had been so humble and rapt that the place and the plateau and the valley seemed alone in creation with the lofty drama of the ages. The Cure's eyes shone when he saw on a little knoll in the trees, apart from the worshippers and spectators, Charley and Jo Portugais. His cup of content was now full.
A girl, in the garb of the Magdalene, entered the tent of the Cure, and, speaking no word, knelt and received absolution of her sins. CHARLEY left Jo Portugais behind, and went home alone. He watched at a window till he saw Rosalie return. As she passed quickly down the street with Mrs. Flynn to her own door, he observed that her face was happier than he had seen it for many a day.
"To Quebec first, M'sieu'." Charley looked curiously at Jo, for there was meaning in his tone. "And where last?" "To Montreal." Charley's face became paler, his hands suddenly clinched, for he read the look in Jo's eyes. He knew that Jo had been looking at people and places once so familiar; that he had seen Kathleen. "Go on. Tell me all," he said heavily. Portugais spoke in English.
With a quaking cry of warning to the others, Billy bolted from the house, followed by his companions, two of whom were struggling with Jo Portugais on the stairway. These now also broke and ran. Jo rushed into the shop, and saw, as he thought, Charley lying dead saw the robber dead upon the floor. His master and friend gone, the conviction seized him that his own time had come.
Histoire de Portugal; contenant les Entreprises, &c. des Portugais, tant en la Conquête des Indes Orientales par eux découvertes, qu'en Guerres d'Afrique et autres Exploits: nouvellement mise en Français. Par S. Goullard. Paris, 1581. 4to. Navigatio et Itinerarium in Orientalem Indiam, &c. Autore Joanne Linschot. Amsterd. 1614. folio.
It was all dangerous, for what was, accidentally, no evil in this particular instance, might be the greatest disaster in another case. Principle was at stake. He heard in stern silence the Cure's happy statement that Jo Portugais had returned to the bosom of the Church, and attended Mass regularly.
"Go into the next room quickly," he said. "No matter what comes, I will not on my honour!" She threw him a look of gratitude, and, as the bearskin curtain dropped behind her, he put the phial of laudanum in his pocket. The door opened, and the Abbe Rossignol entered, followed by the Seigneur, the Cure, and Jo Portugais. Charley faced them calmly, and waited.
"As you wish, M'sieu'," Jo answered, then looked inquiringly at the surgeon. "In about five days, Portugais. Have you a steady hand and a quick eye?" Jo spread out his hands in deprecation, and turned to the Curb, as though for him to answer. "Jo is something of a physician and surgeon too, Marcel. He has a gift.
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