Yesterday, as I stood in the
kitchen beside our old cook Jovin, she said a kind word to me, and my
eyes filled, and I ran up to my room, and burst into tears as I lay upon
my bed. I could not help it. I thought at first it was because of the
poor hawk that Captain Moray and I set free yesterday morning; but it
could not have been that, for it was FREE when I cried, you see. You
know, of course, that he saved my father's life, some years ago? That is
one reason why he has been used so well in Quebec, for otherwise no one
would have lessened the rigours of his captivity. But there are tales
that he is too curious about our government and state, and so he may be
kept close jailed, though he only came here as a hostage. He is much
at our home, and sometimes walks with Juste and me and Georgette, and
accompanies my mother in the streets. This is not to the liking of the
Intendant, who loves not my father because he is such a friend of our
cousin the Governor. If their lives and characters be anything to the
point the Governor must be in the right.

In truth, things are in a sad way here, for there is robbery on every
hand, and who can tell what the end may be? Perhaps that we go to
the English after all. Monsieur Doltaire--you do not know him, I
think--says, "If the English eat us, as they swear they will, they'll
die of megrims, our affairs are so indigestible." At another time he
said, "Better to be English than to be damned." And when some one asked
him what he meant, he said, "Is it not read from the altar, 'Cursed
is he that putteth his trust in man'? The English trust nobody, and we
trust the English." That was aimed at Captain Moray, who was present,
and I felt it a cruel thing for him to say; but Captain Moray, smiling
at the ladies, said, "Better to be French and damned than not to be
French at all." And this pleased Monsieur Doltaire, who does not love
him. I know not why, but there are vague whispers that he is acting
against the Englishman for causes best known at Versailles, which have
nothing to do with our affairs here. I do believe that Monsieur Doltaire
would rather hear a clever thing than get ten thousand francs. At such
times his face lights up, he is at once on his mettle, his eyes look
almost fiendishly beautiful. He is a handsome man, but he is wicked, and
I do not think he has one little sense of morals. I do not suppose he
would stab a man in the back, or remove his neighbour's landmark in
the night