et us
possess the North, says our Peter the Hermit, and we can rest sure of
the whole. Yes, let us possess the North! let us populate the shores of
Hudson's Bay!" the enthusiast cried, losing himself in his vision, "Let
us possess the shores of Hudson's Bay, where d'Iberville of old
dislodged our enemies!"
"Peter the Hermit!" laughed Chamilly. "What a name for our jolly old
Cure of Colonization. But all that is well enough for ecclesiastics to
recommend, since none others would invite their friends to die on those
refrigerated wastes.--Yet the people themselves are heroically willing."
"Our next ambition," proceeded De La Lande, absorbed in his enthusiasm
and quite guileless of any personal enmities, "is the conquest of the
United States. Northern Maine is French Canadian. In New England we
count half a million. Lowell, Worcester, Lawrence, Nashua and Fall River
are ours. In farms, in parishes, in solid masses, we shall establish
ourselves on the banks of the Merrimac as we have on our own historic
streams, to increase and multiply and possess the land, replacing the
degenerate New Englander, _possedentes januas hostium_, performing a
divine mission, working out a high destiny for our language and the
Catholic faith, and establishing a new, magnificent State out of the
portions of those destroyed, over which shall fly the lilies of old--"
"And perhaps reign a duly fat Bourbon," interrupted Quinet over his
salad.
"We shall re-unite at last again with France! The affection of this
remnant of her children, turned adrift in their few arpents of snow, has
never died towards the land so changed from the time of our forefathers.
It is still to us the Palestine of our speech, our history and our faith
of St. Louis! We are the American France! We are all ready. We are the
people of God. In the words of a brother: 'This blood was set in
America in the midst of a material world, like France in Europe, to
regenerate these peoples and perpetuate the reign of ideals. God has
willed it: 'GESTA DEI PER FRANCOS!'"
Chamilly turned to Chrysler as the school master ended, and said with a
smile: "Do you not think there is enterprise in a people like this?"
CHAPTER XVIII.
A DISAPPEARING ORDER.
"Qu'il est triste d'etre vaincu!--"
--DU CALVET.
From Quinet who had been deliberately dealing with his dessert, now came
words:
"Mistaken impulses! Led after will o' the wisps by dreamers and
designers! If it we
|