Banished From Our Home The Acadian Diary Of Angelique Richard – Sharon Stewart

Some of the others were with him. I told him it was his duty to come back, but he did not want to hear that. He only dreams of fighting the British now. Our gentle Claude — he has become so hard and angry! He and the others were grateful for the provisions I brought, though. They all said it was too dangerous for me to go back, with bands of soldiers raiding the countryside.

So I spent the night there in the woods with them, curled up against Griffon for warmth. In the morning, I set out for home alone, weeping. When I got near the farm I could hear Pâquerette lowing and wondered that Belle had not milked her and turned her out to pasture.

But then I saw that no smoke came from the chimney of our house. The door gaped wide open on its hinges, and the hearth was cold and dark. Many small things lay strewn about as if left behind in a hurry. I screamed for Maman and Belle and Mémère, but there was no answer. They were gone. For a moment I stood frozen with fear. Then I seized a sack lying on the floor and began throwing anything I could reach into it — this diary, my quilt bag, a loaf of bread, a candle, a cabbage …

I ran to the barn and untied Pâquerette, and drove her and her calf down to the meadow. I opened the gate of La Gloire’s sty too, and shooed the last few chickens out of their coop. Then I shouldered the sack and ran down the lane with Griffon on my heels. By Maman’s willow, I stopped for one last look at our dear farm.

Pulling out my pocket knife, I cut a willow slip and tucked it away. Then I ran along the road to Oncle Paul’s. I hoped Maman and the others might be there, but Oncle Paul’s house was deserted too, with the animals running wild in the barnyard.

I ran on.

Le 1er mai 1755 A terrible thing has happened. I have seen something I was not supposed to, and now I know something I am not supposed to know. I have sworn not to tell anyone about it, but my heart is aching. All I can do is write it down here. I had crept out early this morning to collect la première neige de mai for Maman. Last spring there was no snow for May water, and Maman lamented the lack of it all year for treating sore eyes and ears.

So this was my chance to win her praise — it is seldom enough that I can. I scarcely slept all night wondering whether snow would come. But at dawn there it was — a thin silvery blanket over the fields and woods. It would soon melt in the first rays of the sun, but there is that glade in the woods where the snow lingers clean among the evergreens, so I set out with my bucket.

Griffon followed me, as he always does, but I sent him back, fearing his great paws would spoil the snow. Even in the glade the snow was going fast. I scraped up scarcely half a bucketful. Then I heard men’s voices. One was Victor’s! I peeked around a tree trunk and there he was. A stranger was with him, a tall and wolf-lean fellow with a hawk nose and high cheekbones. He was dressed all in buckskins like a Micmac, and a gun was slung across his back.

He and Victor were shaking hands. I heard Victor say he would follow him to the devil and back, and that he would rally others to join the cause. Then he said the man’s name — Beausoleil! I gasped — I could not help it. For only one man bears that name.

Beausoleil Broussard, the renegade who fights against the British. Victor has joined the rebels! Victor heard me. In a moment he had pounced on me and dragged me before the rebel chief. Beausoleil has narrow eyes, cat’s eyes, and he looked so fierce I thought he might kill me on the spot. But Victor told him the “spy” was only his nosey sister, and Beausoleil laughed.

He still wanted to know why I was sneaking about the woods at that hour, though. I held up my bucket of snow. Then he asked if I was going to let my tongue wag about having seen him, and suddenly his eyes were not amused at all. I knew it was not really a question. It was a warning. I crossed myself and promised to say nothing to anyone.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: d320201274d06739
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 4,084,845 bytes (3.896 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 148
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 197.74 minutes
• Total Words: 39,548
• Total Characters: 206,807
• Average Words per Page: 267.22
• Average Characters per Page: 1397.34

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