IX.

EBB AND FLOW.

Zulma's anxieties were no less than Pauline's. They increased from day
to day, and she fretted herself almost into illness by her impatience.
She knew that Cary's malady was of its nature a protracted one, and that
the convalescence must necessarily extend over many weeks. She could
hear from him only occasionally, and never with that fullness of detail
which her affection required. She had recourse to many expedients to
ease her mind, but failure in every instance only sharpened the edge of
her disappointment. Her chief attempt was to obtain admission into the
town for the purpose of aiding Pauline in nursing the invalid. She quite
appreciated all the delicacy of the step; but, having obtained her
father's cordial consent, she pursued it with all the energy of her
nature. She applied for the necessary leave to her brother Eugene, who,
having done soldier's duty, was supposed to be entitled to some little
consideration at the hands of the authorities. Eugene was flatly
refused. Zulma then enlisted the services of Roderick Hardinge, who
somehow entered into her views with the greatest alacrity.

"She would make a charming prisoner," he said gaily.

But Hardinge failed. So did Bouchette, who had been approached in the
matter by his friend Belmont. The affair created quite a stir in this
small circle of friends, relieving the monotony of the siege for the
time being. Cary Singleton was very much amused as well as touched by
it. But when it was at length ascertained that the Governor, usually so
good-natured, was strangely inexorable in the present instance, Pauline
and her coadjutors gave up all hope of seeing Zulma among them. But the
latter was not so easily discouraged. These rebuffs only added fuel to
her desire, and though the time passed rapidly, she did not resign her
project. Very seriously, she inquired of Batoche whether he could not
smuggle her within the walls. The proposition at first struck the fancy
of the old man, making his eyes glitter; but, upon second thought, he
laughed it away.

"The trouble would not be so much to smuggle you in, as to know what to
do with you when once we got you in," he said slyly. "Women are awkward
things to handle in a camp of soldiers. No disguise can hide them from
prying eyes."

As a last resort, Zulma resolved on appealing directly to Monseigneur
Briand, whom surely Carleton would not deny. There were numerous and
very glaring objections