said Clarges, self-reproachfully.
At eleven the trap came, and by noon they were half-way to their
destination. The road winding higher and higher as it followed the
magnificent curves of the Gatineau was very beautiful, and revealed
at each turn a superb panorama of water, and wood and sky. For a
long time the Buildings were visible, towering over trees and valleys.
Once the sun came out and lit up the cold, gray scene.
"Pull up, Johnny," said the Hon. Bovyne, "I want to see this. Why,
its immense, this is! Arthur, how's your arm?"
But Clarges was evidently struck with something. "I say, over there,
is where we were yesterday, Bovey, I can imagine I see the very spot,
cannon and all."
"Just as then you imagined you saw a couple of trees here, eh? Now
go along, Johnny, and sit down, Arthur. It doesn't agree with you to
be vaccinated. I'm afraid you're too imaginative already my boy. By
the way, how _is_ your arm?"
"Its a novel situation," thought Clarges. "_He's_ the one, not me.
Its _his_ arm, not mine. But my turn will come to-night; pretty soon
he'll find it out for himself."
Arrived at the house of _Veuve_ Peter Ross, they found it clean and
inviting; warmed by a wood stove and carpeted with home-made rugs.
The old woman took a great interest in their arrival and belongings
and jabbered away incessantly, in French. Did they but request her
to "cherchez un autre blankette!" or fry an additional egg, up went
her hands, her eyes and her shoulders, and such a tirade of excited
French was visited upon them that they soon forebore asking her for
anything but went about helping themselves. At first they thought
she was angry when these outbreaks took place, but Bovey, who could
partially understand her, gathered that she was far from offended,
but given over to the national habit of delivering eloquent and
theatrical monologues on the slightest provocation. She had no
lodgers at the present moment; a Frenchman had left the day before,
and the prospect was in every way favorable, to the comfort of the
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