Acadian Star by Helene Boudreau Read Free Book Online Page A

What would happen to Tante Perle? Had she drowned? Was she dead? And what about the girl in the rowboat?
    â€œGo!” The soldier jabbed the butt of his rifle into Meg’s back. She stumbled forward into the group. They steadied her and kept her from falling. Numb with grief and confusion, she moved as one with them back to the hatch.
    In moments, Meg found herself grasping at the ladder’s splintered rungs as she headed down, down into the dark, dank belly of the ship.

Chapter 10

    M EG CLUTCHED T ANTE P ERLE’S SHAWL to her chest. She sat wedged between her fellow Acadian captives in the darkness of the lower deck.
    Her link to getting back to Picasse Bay had just jumped into the ocean. The rowboat holding the only other familiar face Meg knew had been turned away to find passage on another ship.
    Was this her new reality? This warped dream? There was no way this could be real. Somehow she had to get back to her time, to her home in Picasse Bay. But how?
    A putrid mixture of odours attacked the back of her throat. Her ears ached with the muted din and strangled whispers of the strangers around her. Meg had never felt so alone among so many.
    She pulled Tante Perle’s shawl over her head to block out the stench and the whimpers that hung in the air. The rough knitted wool provided a moment of haven. All she wanted to do was escape.
    The oyster shell in Meg’s apron pocket jabbed at her hip. She pulled it out and held it in her hand. Would Tante Perle somehow make it back to Picasse Bay alive? Would Meg? Would she ever see her mother and father again? Or Nève, for that matter?
    Meg didn’t care what it took. She had to figure out a way out of there.
    The air in the hold of the ship was thick and close. Meg tried hard to breathe to clear her mind. She closed her eyes to will her thoughts and felt the smooth, inner surface of the oyster shell as she searched for an answer. What was she supposed to do now? How much more time did she have to spend in this nightmare?
    A familiar wooziness made her head sway. Red, white, and blue pinpoints of light danced behind her eyelids. Just like when she had hit her head in the cellar. What was happening? Was she…?
    The dizziness kept her from completing her train of thought.
    â€œMar-gue-rite!” a voice called out.
    Meg froze. She dropped the shell into her lap and braced her hands against the floor, expecting to feel the rough wooden floorboards of the ship. Instead, her palms touched straw.
    Her hands flew up in shock.
    What was happening?
    She yanked the shawl from her head and tossed it to the side. A curl sprang from her hairline as the fabric pulled tendrils from her braid. She blew it back from her face and looked around, letting her eyes adjust to the light.
    Light. Sunlight. From a window. But it had been nighttime just moments before!
    Meg slipped the shell back into her pocket and scrambled to her feet, careful not to bump her head on the low ceiling. To her surprise, she drew herself to full height. Her feet stood planted firmly on the straw-covered floor below. The pitch and heave of the ocean was gone. The dozens of people she had shared the space with just moments before had vanished.
    The odour and noises from below deck were replaced with equally unpleasant ones. Manure? Wet animals? Had they boarded livestock while she was on the upper deck?
    â€œHonestly, Marguerite, you’re not very good at this game. I can hear you from down here! Surely you must have known we would search for you in the barn,” the voice sang out from below.
    A barn? Was she up in some type of loft? What had happened to the ship?
    A flicker of grey zipped by her with a squeak. A mouse!
    Meg jumped back in surprise. The floor disappeared from under her feet and she plummeted downward through the loft’s opening. Meg tightened her body, ready for the impact. Instead, a mound of prickly hay enveloped her as she landed.
    She drew the straw away from her