Jeanne Dugas of Acadia by Cassie Deveaux Cohoon Page A

returned.
    â€œMartin, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to do this.”
    â€œJeanne, I am very happy that I was here to help you. We are special friends, you and I. You must not feel sorry.”
    At this Jeanne burst into tears and could not stop.
    Martin lay down beside her and wrapped his arms around her and the baby. She lay in his arms, her arms around her baby, and sobbed as if her heart would break.
    When she had no more tears to shed, she fell into an exhausted sleep, and only woke when she heard the baby cry. Martin still held her in his arms. “I think the baby is hungry,” he said. It was daylight.
    Martin stayed for a short time, while she nursed the baby, and he found some bread and head cheese for Jeanne to eat. He looked as if he were on the alert. Soon he said, “I think I hear someone.” He went outside to check. He always seemed to hear or sense someone or something before it happened.
    â€œSome of your relatives are coming. They must have been very worried about you. I think I should go. Tell them I brought Grandmother to help you.” And before she could say anything, he stole away.
    Pierre’s return from his voyage was delayed. By the time he arrived his new baby girl was ten days old and Jeanne had recovered from her distress. Père Ropert baptized the baby Marie Marguerite for her two grandmothers. She would be known as Marie – petite Marie to distinguish her from her Grandmother Bois.
    â€”
    After his last voyage of the season, Joseph reported there were no major changes in the political situation, either good or bad. It appeared that Governor Hopson was trying to repair relations with both the Acadians and the Mi’kmaq after the treatment they had received from Governor Cornwallis, but this was doing little to stem the flow of Acadians leaving Nova Scotia.
    Joseph had made more voyages than the previous year. He said he found it difficult to understand why so many Acadians would leave their prosperous farms for an uncertain future on Île Saint-Jean.
    He had seen his brothers Charles and Abraham once during the whole summer. They were worried about their future, but had not yet made the decision to leave their farms in Grand-Pré. They reminded him of their plan to seek refuge in the Miramichi area if they decided the situation was dangerous.
    â€œThey seem to think that I’m leading a dangerous life,” Joseph told Jeanne, “but I think their situation in Nova Scotia is more perilous.” Jeanne tended to agree with Charles and Abraham, but she knew Joseph would not change.
    â€”
    Once again they faced a winter of silence, closed off from the outside world by ice and snow – a period when all they could do was to ponder their fate. On one hand, there was the general feeling of dread caused by the building of the new British fort at Halifax and the plans to bring in a large number of new settlers. On the other hand, they now hoped to receive fair treatment from Governor Peregrine Hopson. But would this be enough? Jeanne was torn between worrying about how the political situation could affect their lives and worrying about her responsibilities as a wife and mother.
    She had grown up in Joseph’s confidence. He had kept the promise he made to her when she was very young, that he would keep her informed of political events that could affect their lives, and he had always treated her as an adult. She had lived within the circle of his life, where this information came easily. Now, that had changed. Now, she was a married woman living in her husband’s home.
    She realized that Joseph, although he had approved of her marriage, did not treat Pierre as an equal. At first she thought it was because of her husband’s youthfulness – Joseph, and his father-in-law Le Maigre, were of an older generation. But she came to believe that it was more likely because Pierre did not share their patriotic zeal as Acadians. Yes,