Shadows on the Rock by Cather Willa 1873-1947

Shadows on the Rock by Cather Willa 1873-1947

Author:Cather, Willa, 1873-1947
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature
Publisher: The University of Adelaide Library


V

Father Hector Saint–Cyr was not long in following his messenger. On the day of his arrival in Kebec he stopped at the apothecary shop, but, Auclair being out, he saw only Cécile, and they arranged that he should come to dinner the following evening.

He came after hearing vespers at the Cathedral, attended to the door of the pharmacy by a group of Seminarians, who always followed him about when he was in town. This was his first meeting with Auclair, and there was a cordial moisture in the priest’s eyes as he embraced his old friend and kissed him on both cheeks.

“How many times on my way from Ville–Marie I have enjoyed this moment in anticipation, Euclide,” he declared. “Only solitary men know the full joys of friendship. Others have their family; but to a solitary and an exile his friends are everything.”

Father Hector was the son of a noted family of Aix-enProvence; his good breeding and fine presence were by no means lost upon his Indian parishioners at the Sault. The savages, always scornful of meekness and timidity, believed that a man was exactly what he looked. They used Father Hector better than any of his predecessors because he was strong and fearless and handsome. If he was humble before Heaven, he was never so with his converts. He took a high hand with them. If one were drunk or impertinent, he knocked him down. More than once he had given a drunken Indian a good beating, and the Indian had come and thanked him afterwards, telling him he did quite right.

Cécile thought it a great honour to entertain a man like Father Hector at their table, and she was much gratified by his frank enjoyment of everything; of the fish soup with which she had taken such pains, and the wood doves, cooked in a casserole with mushrooms and served with wild rice. Her father had brought up from the cellar a bottle of fine old Burgundy which the Count had sent them for New Year’s. She scarcely ate at all herself, for watching their guest.

When Auclair said that this dinner was to make up to Father Hector for the one he missed on Epiphany, he laughed and protested that on Epiphany he had dined very well.

“Smoked eels and cold lard — what more does a man want in the woods? It was on the day following that we began to feel the pinch, — and the next day, and the next. Frichette made a great fuss about it, but certainly it was not the first time either he or I had gone hungry. If one had not been through little experiences of that kind, one would not know how to enjoy a dinner like this.” He reached out and put his hand lightly on Cécile’s head. “How I wish you could keep her from growing up, Euclide!”

She blushed with joy at the touch of that large, handsome hand which the Indians feared.

“Yes,” he went on, looking about him, “these are great occasions in a missionary’s life.



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