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Authors: T. Davis Bunn

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BOOK: The Sacred Shore
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When Guy and his sons returned from Minas, they reported the good news that the long-hidden treasure had been found. Accompanied by Catherine, Emilie, Anne, Nicole, Charles, and Andrew, the adventurers went straight to the bank. Charles hefted one of the filthy sacks, brushed off as much dirt as he could, and carried it through the bank's main lobby and up the stairs to the senior official's office. Guy followed with the second one. The sacks had to be carried from underneath, for the burlap had rotted and the seams were splitting. Charles only noticed how dirty he had become when the banker's aide protested as the sacks were deposited upon the table's polished surface. The banker waved the aide outside and carefully used his letter opener to split the seams. The rest of the group crowded into the office, craning to see what the sacks held.

Together the three men separated the treasure into two piles. The larger by far was made up of plate, most of which was silver. The smaller was coinage drawn from a vast array of denominations and countries. There were gold Louis, sovereigns, ducats, even a few pesos from the most southern colonies. Charles watched Nicole's uncle separate the coins and heard his murmurs of delight. The man had probably never seen so much money in one place before.

“My friend,” Charles said to Guy, speaking slow and careful French so the banker also might follow his words, “I am happy to say that it looks as though you have considerable wealth here.” Charles paused to look once more over the pile of money. “I cannot say for certain,” he continued, “but I would estimate you must have at least two hundred gold sovereigns' worth of coinage alone.”

Charles began scooping up the coins and settling them into the astounded banker's hands. Charles continued, “I would suggest you pack up the plates and return them to the people of Vermilionville to keep as part of their heritage. Would you not agree, sir?”

“M-most assuredly,” the banker stammered in broken French.

“Then you will have your people count this coinage and issue a draft forthwith,” Charles instructed. “I will add to this my own promise of assistance to Henri.”

“What promise was this, m'sieur?” Guy asked.

“A long story, one for another time.” He gave Nicole a deep look, one that only added to the tumult in her mind and heart. Then Charles instructed the banker, “Make it for one thousand sovereigns even, and a second draft for an additional fifty sovereigns to Guy Belleveau.” To the gasps of the gathered clan, Charles hastened to add, “I would be most deeply grateful if you would please accept this gift, m'sieur. I feel certain Henri would agree that part of the money owed to your clan should be used to help you settle here in Acadia.”

Charles waited as Guy stammered his astonished thanks, then continued in English, “I have been doing some thinking, and I have an announcement to make.”

He had the attention of everyone in the room as he walked over to take a place between Catherine and Anne. He directed his words to the younger of the two. “I have found passage upon a swift ship bound for England.”

“Must you go so soon, brother?” Andrew asked, his voice full of genuine regret.

“I must,” Charles said, touched deeply by Andrew's care for him. “I have already been away far too long.”

“When do you depart?”

“In three days.” He pressed through the murmur of protest, saying to Anne, “I am deeply sorry to miss your coming wedding, my dear. But I have been giving thought to a suitable wedding present.”

“But the lovely carpets—and quilts. It is not necessary for you to do more.”

“Oh, but it is.” He paused long enough for Catherine to translate for those who spoke no English, then said, “My contract with Captain Dillon's ship continues through the end of this sailing season. But because I have found this passage back to England, I no longer personally require its service. I would therefore like to order the captain south, with all possible dispatch.”

Anne's hands flew to her mouth. Charles was rewarded with a second gasp from Catherine, and a third from Nicole when the words were translated and the realization dawned. He went on, “I will invite Henri and Louise to travel north. They will be required to spend the winter here. But if they wish to avail themselves of it, I will arrange for the earliest possible passage for them back to Vermilionville in the spring.”

Anne said nothing, and nothing was required. The look in her eyes was the finest expression of gratitude Charles could ever want.

Chapter 36

That night they celebrated with a rather boisterous meal in Cyril and Anne's new house. Tables were borrowed from the doctor's office, benches from the waiting area, plates and silverware from the hotel. There was much laughter and translations that got started and never finished and delightful horseplay among Guy's younger children. Charles felt a deep contentment and sense of satisfaction as he sat and laughed and talked with these, his family and new friends. It was a gift, not just for the night but for all the departures and farewells to come.

As though in confirmation of that gift, Nicole chose to walk alongside him back to the hotel. Her first comment, when night and a few paces distanced them from the others, was, “You knew that if my parents came up from Vermilionville, I would have to stay.”

“I sensed that you were leaning in this direction already,” Charles responded quietly.

Candlelight from a passing window painted Nicole's features with warm hues. “It must have been hard for you.”

“In truth,” Charles confessed, “I have seldom known anything to feel more right.”

The silence was as comfortable as the night breeze, and after a half dozen paces, Nicole asked, “May I take your arm, Uncle Charles?”

“I would be most honored.”

She slipped her arm through his and said, “Until you said you were sending for my parents, I did not know what I was to do. It seemed as though all I could see before me was what I would lose. Every choice was wrong.”

“Does that mean you were tempted by my offer?”

“Very.” Though the night was warm, he could feel her shiver. “So much so that it frightened me.”

“Perhaps,” Charles ventured, “it is possible for you to do both.”

“How—what do you mean?”

“Stay the winter here with your families,” he said carefully. “Then you could come join me in England in the spring.”

He dared not look at her for fear he had been too bold. Finally she replied, “I will think on this. And pray about it.”

And once again Charles felt a sense of reward, a true and lasting rightness. “I can ask,” he replied, “for nothing more.”

The comfort of the crackling fire warmed more than the body as Nicole sat sipping hot cider from a heavy mug. Anne had gone for a walk with her fiancé. Her wedding date had been postponed. They would wait for Henri and Louise, however long it might take them to make the journey. Cyril had not complained about the postponement, knowing how much the presence of her other parents would mean to his bride. But he told her with serious countenance that if God answered his prayers, there would never be a ship to make this journey in a shorter time.

Nicole thought how wonderful it was for Anne to be looking toward her wedding day. What if she had agreed to marry Jean Dupree? For the first time Nicole truly realized what a dreadful mistake that would have been. Only God had saved her from it, at a time when she really didn't know Him.

Andrew had come into the sitting room of their hotel suite and was quietly watching Nicole. He asked through Catherine, “Are you weary?”

Nicole hid a yawn behind her hand. But at the same time that her body was urging her toward bed, she felt strangely refreshed. Perhaps it was because the inner struggle was over. Because she had stopped trying to figure everything out on her own. “Yes, I'm tired. But Mama must be more so.”

“I am exhausted, I will admit,” Catherine acknowledged from the other side of the fireplace. The warm glow in her eyes was more than reflection from the coals. “I don't think it was the journey itself as much as all the excitement since our arrival. I've never had so many things happen in such short order. So much coming and going.”

She stopped to translate for her husband, who said, “I do hope Charles's return journey will go more smoothly than the voyage over.” Andrew hesitated, then asked gently, “Might we ask if you have reached any decision?”

Nicole dropped her gaze and looked down at the cider swirling about the bottom of her cup.

“You are leaning toward his offer?” asked Catherine in a small voice.

Nicole looked over at Catherine for a long moment, then said, “I am.” She had to admit it. She was leaning in that direction—unless God clearly gave her reason to change her course. “But not until the spring, so that I can be here to greet Louise and Henri and join in Anne's wedding.”

Catherine stared down at her cup but made no outward sign of distress. Nicole was thankful that there was no emotional protest. Perhaps her mother had known for some time that this was a likely eventuality.

“It is reasonable,” suggested Andrew. “A few short months ago I would have fought against it. But now—with the change in your uncle Charles, I have not the same fears.”

This time it was Catherine who nodded.

“Papa, have you ever considered going back?” Nicole asked suddenly. “I'm certain the estate is large enough for two, and Uncle Charles would gladly share now. You could be the local vicar if you wished and …”

Andrew held up a hand. “God has called me here,” he said simply. “To the colonies. If He ever wants me in a different place, I'm sure He will let me know.”

Catherine's weak smile held a hint of relief. Nicole knew her roots here went deep.

“I am happy to accept the bequest from Charles. It will make things much easier for your mother,” Andrew continued. “And I confess that I will not miss the leatherwork. Especially in the dead of winter. And we do have a Georgetown cobbler now, so my hands are no longer needed.”

“I still have much praying to do,” Nicole reminded them. “As I said, I have not given Uncle Charles a firm yes.”

Andrew straightened from his place in the doorway. “We will all pray,” he assured her. “I think a good time to start is now.” He crossed the room to kneel on the floor between them, taking a hand of each in his own. Nicole looked at each face, feeling a calmness and a peace she had never felt before. Whatever happened in her future, she could depend on one certainty. With two sets of parents praying, she was sure God would show her the way.

Chapter 37

The morning of departure was one of billowing clouds and a strong wind from the land, as though heaven and earth were joined to hasten his sailing. Charles stood at dockside, surrounded by his family he had not even known a half year previous. And yet these were now unbelievably precious to him.

His brother stood before him, the wind blowing strands of graying hair from beneath the hat. Charles studied the silver threads and wondered with a pang in his heart if there were more permanent farewells to come. “Andrew,” he confessed, “I do not know if I have the strength for this.”

Catherine pushed past her husband and held Charles in a warm embrace. “Who ever would have thought this moment would so pierce my heart?”

He clenched his jaw against the pain of another separation. He said to Andrew over Catherine's head, “Help me, brother.”

“It is hard to think of it just now,” Andrew said with a deep sigh, “but we must all remember that no parting is final within God's family.”

The words were enough to unlock the band that had tightened around his chest. Charles took the day's first easy breath and returned Catherine's embrace. “I will miss you, dear sister,” he said as she stepped back.

Andrew motioned for the two young women to join them, and together they clustered upon the quayside. The wind whistled around them, the waves crashed against the stone wall, and gulls swooped and soared over the little group. Charles bowed his head with the others and listened as Andrew called for God's blessing upon the journey and the homecoming. And when the words stopped, Charles found his own waiting and gave voice to his first spoken prayer. “Father, I see now more than ever my own weakness, my own needs. I ask for your blessing upon these good people, and upon me as well. Whatever it is that I should do, whatever it is that awaits me, help me to journey into the future as your servant.”

The hugs and the farewells were swift in joining and slow in ending. Nicole's embrace was without words, but Charles did not need any.
Whatever is right
, he prayed silently as he released her.

Charles felt as though he and Andrew both were seeking to delay not only the departure but maybe time itself in the strength of that last clasping of arms and meeting of hearts.

Finally Charles climbed into the waiting skiff and stood amidships as the oarsmen made for the waiting vessel. The farewells and waves continued on until the calls grew fainter than the gulls. The last voice he heard clearly was that of his beloved brother. Andrew's final words, lofted upon the wind, seemed to be borne from heaven itself.

BOOK: The Sacred Shore
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