THE INTERNET WIRETAP ELECTRONIC EDITION OF

                          The
                  Forge in the Forest
                           
                         Being
       The Narrative of the Acadian Ranger, Jean
          de Mer, Seigneur de Briart; and how
           he crossed the Black Abbe; and of
              his Adventures in a Strange
                      Fellowship
                           
                          By
                 Charles G. D. Roberts
     Author of "The Kindred of the Wild," "Barbara
         Ladd," "A Sister to Evangeline," etc.
                           
                        Boston
                 L. C. Page & Company
                           
                       MDCCCCII




                   Copyright, 1896,
                           
            By Lamson, Wolffe and Company.
                           
                 All rights reserved.
                           
                           
                          To
                George E. Fenety, Esq.
               This Story of a Province
           arnong whose Honoured Sons he is
                not least distinguished
                     is dedicated
               with esteem and affection



   Prepared by John Hamm <John_Hamm@MindLink.bc.ca>

           This text is in the PUBLIC DOMAIN,
                 released October 1993

   Scanned with OmniPage Professional OCR software
             donated by Caere Corporation.




The Forge in the Forest

A Foreword

WHERE the Five Rivers flow down to meet the swinging of
the Minas tides, and the Great Cape of Blomidon bars
out the storm and the fog, lies half a county of rich
meadow-lands and long-arcaded orchards.  It is a
deep-bosomed land, a land of fat cattle, of well-filled
barns, of ample cheeses and strong cider; and a
well-conditioned folk inhabit it.  But behind this
countenance of gladness and peace broods the memory of
a vanished people.  These massive dykes, whereon twice
daily the huge tide beats in vain, were built by hands
not suffered to possess the fruits of their labour.
These comfortable fields have been scorched with the
ruin of burning homes, drenched with the tears of women
hurried into exile.  These orchard lanes, appropriate
to the laughter of children or the silences of lovers,
have rung with battle and run deep with blood.  Though
the race whose bane he was has gone, still stalks the
sinister shadow of the Black Abbe.

The low ridge running between the dykelands of the
Habitants and the dykelands of the Canard still carries
patches of forest interspersed among its farms, for its
soil is sandy and not greatly to be coveted for
tillage.  These patches are but meagre second growth,
with here and there a gnarled birch or overpeering
pine, lonely survivor of the primeval brotherhood.  The
undergrowth has long smoothed out all traces of what a
curious eye might fifty years ago have discerned, --
the foundations of the chimney of a blacksmith's forge.
It is a mould well steeped in fateful devisings, this
which lies forgotten under the creeping roots of
juniper and ragged-robin, between the diminished stream
of Canard and the yellow tide of Habitants.

The forest then was a wide-spreading solemnity of shade
wherein armies might have moved unseen.  The forge
stood where the trail from Pereau ran into the more
travelled road from the Canard to Grand Pre.  The
branches of the ancient wood came down all about its
low eaves; and the squirrels and blue jays chattered on
its roof.  It was a place for the gathering of restless
spirits, the men of Acadie who hated to accept the flag
of the English king.  It was the Acadian headquarters
of the noted ranger, Jean de Mer, who was still called
by courtesy, and by the grace of such of his people as
adhered to his altered fortunes, the Seigneur de
Briart.  His father had been lord of the whole region
between Blomidon and Grand Pre; but the English
occupation had deprived him of all open and formal
lordship, for the de Briart sword was notably
conspicuous on the side of New France.  Nevertheless,
many of Jean de Mer's habitants maintained to him a
chivalrous allegiance, and paid him rents for lands
which in the English eye were freehold properties.
He cherished his hold upon these faithful folk, willing
by all honest means to keep their hearts to France.
His one son, Marc, grew up at Grand Pre, save for the
three years of his studying at Quebec.  His faithful
retainer, Babin, wielding a smith's hammer at the
Forge, had ears of wisdom and a tongue of discretion
for the men who came and went.  Once or twice in the
year, it was de Mer's custom to visit the Grand Pre
country, where he would set his hand to the work of the
forge after Babin's fashion, playing his part to the
befooling of English eyes, and taking, in truth, a
quaint pride in his pretended craft.  At the time,
however, when this narrative opens, he had been a whole
three years absent from the Acadian land, and his
home-coming was yet but three days old.



Chapter I

The Capture at the Forge

IT was good to be alive that afternoon.  A speckled
patch of sunshine, having pushed its way through the
branches across the road, lay spread out on the dusty
floor of the forge.  On a block just inside the door
sat Marc, his lean, dark face, -- the Belleisle face,
made more hawklike by the blood of his Penobscot
grandmother, -- all aglow with eagerness.  The lazy
youngster was not shamed at the sight of my diligence,
but talked right on, with a volubility which would have
much displeased his Penobscot grandmother.  It was
pleasant to be back with the lad again, and I was
aweary of the war, which of late had kept my feet
forever on the move from Louisbourg to the Richelieu.
My fire gave a cheerful roar as I heaved upon the
bellows, and turned my pike-point in the glowing
charcoal.  As the roar sighed down into silence there
was a merry whirr of wings, and a covey of young
partridges flashed across the road.  A contented mind
and a full stomach do often make a man a fool, or I
should have made shift to inquire why the partridges
had so sharply taken wing.  But I never thought of it.
I turned, and let the iron grow cool, and leaned with
one foot on the anvil, to hear the boy's talk.  My soul
was indeed asleep, lulled by content, or I would surely
have felt the gleam of the beady eyes that watched me
through a chink in the logs beside the chimney.  But I
felt those eyes no more than if I had been a log myself.

"Yes, Father," said Marc, pausing in rich contemplation
of the picture in his mind's eye," you would like her
hair!  It is unmistakably red, -- a chestnut red.
But her sister's is redder still!"  I smiled at his
knowledge of my little weakness for hair of that
colour; but not of a woman's hair was I thinking at
that moment, or I should surely have made some question
about the sister.  My mind ran off upon another trail.

"And what do the English think they're going to do when
de Ramezay comes down upon them?" I inquired.  "Do they
flatter themselves their tumble-down Annapolis is
strong enough to hold us off?"

The lad flushed resentfully and straightened himself up
on his seat.

"Do you suppose, Father, that I was in the fort, and
hobnobbing with the Governor?" he asked coldly.
"I spoke with none of the English save Prudence and her
sister, and the child."

"But why not?" said I, unwilling to acknowledge that I
had said anything at which he might take offence.
"Every one knows your good disposition toward the
English, and I should suppose you were in favour at
Annapolis.  The Governor, I know, makes much of all our
people who favour the English cause."

Marc stood up, -- lean, and fine, and a good half head
taller than his father, -- and looked at me with eyes
of puzzled wrath.

"And you think that I, knowing all I do of de Ramezay's
plans, would talk to the English about them!" he
exclaimed in a voice of keen reproach.

Now, I understood his anger well enough, and in my
heart rejoiced at it; for though I knew his honour
would endure no stain, I had nevertheless feared lest I
should find his sympathies all English.  He was a lad
with a way of thinking much and thinking for himself,
and even now, at twenty year, far more of a scholar
than I had ever found time to be.  Therefore, I say,
his indignation pleased me mightily.  Nevertheless I
kept at him.

"Chut!" said I, "all the world knows by now of de
Ramezay's plans.  There had been no taint of treachery
in talking of them !"

Marc sat down again, and the ghost of a smile flickered
over his lean face.  Though free enough of his speech
betimes, he was for the most part as unsmiling as an
Indian.

"I see you are mocking me, Father," he said presently,
relighting his pipe.  "Indeed, you know very well I am
on your side, for weal or ill.  As long as there was a
chance of the English being left in peaceable
possession of Acadie, I urged that we should accept
their rule fully and in good faith.  No one can say
they haven't ruled us gently and generously.  And I
feel right sure they will continue to rule us, for the
odds are on their side in the game they play with
France.  But seeing that the game has yet to be played
out, there is only one side for me, and I believe it to
be the losing one.  Though as a boy I liked them well
enough, I have nothing more to do with the English now
except to fight them.  How could I have another flag
than yours?"

"You are my own true lad, whatever our difference of
opinion!" said I.  And if my voice trembled in a manner
that might show a softness unsuited to a veteran of my
training, bear in mind that, till within the past three
days, I had not seen the lad for three years, and then
but briefly.  At Grand Pre, and in Quebec at school,
Marc had grown up outside my roving life, and I was
just opening my eyes to find a comrade in this tall son
of my boyhood's love.  His mother, a daughter of old
Baron St. Castin by his Penobscot wife, had died while
he was yet at the breast.  A babe plays but a small
part in the life of a ranging bush-fighter, though I
had ever a great tenderness for the little lad.  Now,
however, I was looking upon him with new eyes.

Having blown the coals again into a heat, I returned to
Marc's words, certain of which had somewhat stuck in my crop.

"But you speak with despondence, lad, of the chances of
the war, and of the hope of Acadie!  By St. Joseph,
we'll drive the English all the way back of the
Penobscot before you're a twelvemonth older.  And
Acadie will see the Flag of the Lilies flapping once
more over the ramparts of Port Royal."

Marc shook his head slowly, and seemed to be following
with his eyes the vague pattern of the shadows on the floor.

"It seems to me," said he, with a conviction which
caught sharply at my heart even though I bore in mind
his youth and inexperience, "that rather will the Flag
of the Lilies be cast down even from the strong walls
of Quebec.  But may that day be far off!  As for our
people here in Acadie, during the last twelvemonth it
has been made very clear to me that evil days are
ahead.  The Black Abbe is preparing many sorrows for us
here in Acadie."

"I suppose you mean La Garne!" said I.  "He's a
diligent servant to France; but I hate a bad priest.
He's a dangerous man to cross, Marc!  Don't go out of
your way to make an enemy of the Black Abbe!"

Again that ghost of a smile glimmered on Marc's lips.

"I fear you speak too late, Father!" said he, quietly.
"The reverend Abbe has already marked me.  He so far
honours me as to think that I am an obstacle in his
path.  There be some whose eyes I have opened to his
villany, so that he has lost much credit in certain of
the parishes.  I doubt not that he will contrive some
shrewd stroke for vengeance."

My face fell somewhat, for I am not ashamed to confess
that I fear a bad priest, the more so in that I yield
to none in my reverence for a good one.  I turned my
iron sharply in the coals, and then exclaimed:

"Oh, well, we need not greatly trouble ourselves.
There are others, methinks, as strong as the Black
Abbe, evil though he be!"  But I spoke, as I have often
found it expedient to do, with more confidence than I felt.

Even at this moment, shrill and clear from the leafage
at one end of the forge, came the call of the big
yellow-winged woodpecker.  I pricked up my ears and
stiffened my muscles, expectant of I knew not what.

Marc looked at me with some surprise.  "It's only a
woodpecker!" said he.  "But it's only in the spring,"
I protested, "that he has a cry like that!"

"He cries untimely, as an omen of the ills to come!"
said Marc, half meaning it and half in jest.

Had it been anywhere on the perilous frontier, --
on the Richelieu or in the West, or nigh the bloody
Massachusetts line, my suspicions would have sprung up
wide awake.  But in this quiet land between the
Habitants and the Canard I was off my guard, --
and what a relief it was, indeed, to let myself be careless
for a little!  I thought no more of the woodpecker, but
remembered that sister with the red hair.  I came back
to her by indirection, however.

"And how did you manage, lad, to be seeing Mistress
Prudence, and her sister, and the child, and yet no
others of the English?  A matter of dark nights and
back windows?  Eh?  But come to think of it, there was
a clear moon this day four weeks back, when you were at
Annapolis."

"No, Father," answered Marc, "it was all much more
simple and less adventurous than that.  Some short way
out of the town is a little river, the Equille, and a
pleasant hidden glade set high upon its bank.  It is a
favoured resort of both the ladies; and there I met
them as often as I was permitted.  Mizpah would
sometimes choose to play apart with the child, down by
the water's edge if the tide were full, so I had some
gracious opportunity with Prudence. -- My time being
brief, I made the most of it!" he added drily.  His
quaint directness amused me mightily, and I chuckled as
I shaped the red iron upon the anvil.

"And who," I inquired, "is this kind sister, with the
even redder hair, who goes away with such a timely
discretion?"

"Oh, yes," said Marc, "I forgot you knew nothing of
her.  She is Mistress Mizpah Hanford, the widow of a
Captain Hanford who was some far connection of the
Governor's.  Her property is in and about Annapolis,
and she lives there to manage it, keeping Prudence with
her for companionship.  Her child is four or five years
old, a yellow-haired, rosy boy called Philip.  She's
very tall, -- a head taller than Prudence, and older,
of course, by perhaps eight years; and very fair,
though not so fair as Prudence; and altogether -- "

But at this point I interrupted him.

"What's the matter with the Indian?" I exclaimed,
staring out across Marc's shoulders.

He sprang to his feet and looked around sharply.  An
Indian, carrying three shad strung upon a sapling, had
just appeared on the road before the forge door.  As he
came in view he was reeling heavily, and clutching at
his head.  He dropped his fish; and a moment later he
himself fell headlong, and lay face downward in the
middle of the road.  I remember thinking that his legs
sprawled childishly.  Marc strolled over to him with
slow indifference.

"Have a care!" I exclaimed.  "There may be some trap in
it!  It looks not natural!"

"What trap can there be?" asked Marc, turning the body
over.  "It's Red Moose, a Shubenacadie Micmac.  I like
not the breed; but ever since he got a hurt on the
head, in a fight at Canseau last year, he has been
subject to the falling sickness.  Let us carry him to a
shady place, and he'll come to himself presently!"

I was at his side in a moment, and we stooped to lift
the seemingly lifeless figure.  In an instant its arms
were about my neck in a strangling embrace.  At the
same time my own arms were seized.  I heard a fierce
cry from Marc, and a groan that was not his.  The next
moment, though I writhed and struggled with all my
strength, I found myself bound hand and foot, and
seated on the ground with my back against the door-post
of the forge.  Marc, bound like myself, lay by the
roadside; and a painted savage sat near him nursing
with both hands a broken jaw.  A dozen Micmacs stood
about us.  Leaning against the door-post over against
me was the black-robed form of La Garne.  He eyed me,
for perhaps ten seconds, with a smile of fine and
penetrating sarcasm.  Then he told his followers to
stand Marc up against a tree.



Chapter II

The Black Abbe

WHEN first I saw that smile on the Black Abbe's face,
and realized what had befallen us, I came nigh to
bursting with rage, and was on the point of telling my
captor some truths to make his ears tingle.  But when I
heard the order to stand Marc up against a tree my
veins for an instant turned to ice.  Many men -- and
some women, too, God help me, I then being bound and
gagged, -- had I seen thus stood up against a tree, and
never but for one end.  I could not believe that such
an end was contemplated now, and that by a priest of
the Church, however unworthy of his office!  But I
checked my tongue and spoke the Abbe fair.

"It is quite plain to me, Monsieur," said I, quietly,
"that my son and I are the victims of some serious
mistake, for which you will, I am sure, feel
constrained to ask our pardon presently.  I await your
explanations."

La Garne, still smiling, looked me over slowly.  Never
before had I seen him face to face, though he had more
than once traversed my line of vision.  I had known the
tireless figure, as tall, almost, as Marc himself,
stoop-shouldered, but robust, now moving swiftly as if
propelled by an energy irresistible, now languid with
an affectation of indolence.  But the face -- I hated
the possessor of it with a personal hate the moment my
eyes fell upon that face.  Strong and inflexible was
the gaunt, broad, and thin jaw, cruel and cunning the
high, pinched forehead and narrow-set, palely glinting
eyes.  The nose, in particular, greatly offended me,
being very long, and thick at the end.  "I'll tweak it
for him, one fine day," says I to myself, as I boiled
under his steady smile.

"There is no mistake, Monsieur de Briart, believe me!"
he said, still smiling.  There could be no more fair
words, of course, after that avowal.

"Then, Sir Priest," said I, coldly, "you are both a
madman and a scurvy rogue, and you shall yet be on your
knees to me for this outrage.  You will see then the
nature of your mistake, I give you my word."

The priest's smile took on something of the complexion
of a snarl.

"Don't be alarmed, Monsieur de Briart," said he.
"You are quite safe, because I know you for a good servant
to France; and for your late disrespect to Holy Church,
in my person, while in talk with your pestilent son,
these bonds may be a wholesome and sufficient lesson to
you!"

"You shall have a lesson sufficient rather than
wholesome, I promise you!" said I.

"But as for this fellow," went on the Abbe, without
noticing my interruption, "he is a spy.  You understand
how spies fare, Monsieur!"  And a malignant light made
his eyes appear like two points of steel beneath the
ambush of his ragged brows.

I saw Marc's lean face flush thickly under the gross
accusation.

"It is a lie, you frocked hound!" he cried, careless of
the instant peril in which he stood.

But the Black Abbe never looked at him.

"I wish you joy of your son, a very good Englishman,
Monsieur, and now, I fear, not long for this world,"
said he, in a tone of high civility.  "He has long been
fouling with his slanders the names of those whom he
should reverence, and persuading the people to the
English.  But now, after patiently waiting, I have
proofs.  His treachery shall hang him!"

For a moment the dear lad's peril froze my senses, so
that it was but dimly I heard his voice, ringing with
indignation as he hurled back the charge upon the lying
lips that made it.

"If the home of lies be anywhere out of Hell, it is in
your malignant mouth, you shame of the Church," he
cried in defiance.  "There can be no proof that I am a
spy, even as there can be no proof that you are other
than a false-tongued assassin, defiling your sacred
office."

It was the galling defiance of a savage warrior at the
stake, and even in my fear my heart felt proud of it.
The priest was not galled, however, by these
penetrating insults.

"As for the proofs," said he, softly, never looking at
Marc, but keeping his eyes on my face, "Monsieur de
Ramezay shall judge whether they be proofs or not.
If he say they are not, I am content."

At a sign, a mere turn of his head it seemed to me, the
Indians loosed Marc's feet to lead him away.

"Farewell, Father," said he, in a firm voice, and
turned upon me a look of unshakable courage.

"Be of good heart, son," I cried to him.  "I will be
there, and this devil shall be balked!"

"You, Monsieur," said the priest, still smiling, "will
remain here for the present.  To-night I will send a
villager to loose your bonds.  Then, by all means, come
over and see Monsieur de Ramezay at Chignecto.  I may
not be there then myself, but this business of the spy
will have been settled, for the commander does not
waste time in such small matters!"

He turned away to follow his painted band, and I,
shaking in my impotent rage and fear, called after him:-

"As God lives and is my witness, if the lad comes to
any harm, these hands will visit it upon you an
hundredfold, till you scream for death's mercy!"

But the Black Abbe moved off as if he heard no word,
and left me a twisted heap upon the turf, gnawing
fiercely at the tough deer-hide of my bonds.



Chapter III

Tamin's Little Stratagem

I HAD been gnawing, gnawing in an anguish at the
thongs, for perhaps five minutes.  There had been no
more than time for the Abbe's wolf-pack to vanish by a
turn of the road.  Suddenly a keen blade slit the
thongs that bound my wrists.  Then my feet felt
themselves free.  I sat up, astonished, and saw
stooping over me the droll, broad face of Tamin the
Fisher, -- or Tamin Violet, as he was rightly, though
seldom, called.  His mouth was solemn, as always,
having never been known to wear a smile; but the little
wrinkles laughed about his small bright eyes.  I sprang
up and grasped his hand.

"We must not lose a moment, Tamin, my friend!" I
panted, dragging him into the thick shade of the wood.

"I was thinking you might be in a hurry, M'sieu," said
my rescuer.  "But unless the mouse wants to be back in
the same trap I've just let it out of, you'd better
keep still a half-minute and make up your mind.
They've a round road to go, and we'll go straight!"

"You saw it all?" I asked, curbing myself as best I
could, for I perceived the wisdom of his counsel.

"Oh, ay, M'sieu, I saw it!" replied the Fisher.  "And I
laughed in my bones to hear the lad talk up to the good
father.  There was more than one shot went home, I
warrant, for all the Black Abbe seemed so deaf.
They're festering under his soutane even now, belike!"

"But come!" said I.  "I've got my wind!"  And we darted
noiselessly through the cool of the great trees,
turning a little east from the road.

We ran silently for a space, my companion's short but
massive frame leaping, bending, gliding even as lightly
as my own, which was ever as lithe as a weasel's.
Tamin was a rare woodsman, as I marked straightway,
though I had known him of old rather as a faithful
tenant, and marvellously patient to sit in his boat all
day a-fishing on the drift of the Minas tides.

Presently he spoke, under his breath.

"Very like," said he, drily, "when we come up to them
they will all fall down.  So, we will take the lad and
walk away! eh, what, M'sieu?"

"Only let us come up to them," said I, "and learn their
plans.  Then we will make ours!"

"Something of theirs I know," said Tamin.  "Their
canoes are on the Canard maybe three furlongs to east
of the road.  Thence they will carry the lad to de
Ramezay, for the Black Abbe will have things in due
form when he can conveniently, and now it is plain he
has a scheme well ripe.  But if this wind holds, we'll
be there before them.  My boat is lying hard by."

"God be praised!" I muttered; for in truth I saw some
light now for the first time.  Presently, drawing near
the road again, I heard the voice of La Garne.  We at
once went softly, and, avoiding again, made direct for
where lay the canoes.  There we disposed ourselves in a
swampy thicket, with a little breadth of water lying
before and all the forest behind.  The canoes lay just
across the little water, and so close that I might have
tossed my cap into them.  The clean smell of the wet
salt sedge came freshly into the thicket.  The shadows
lay long on the water.  We had time to grow quiet, till
our breathing was no longer hasty, our blood no longer
thumped in our ears.  A flock of sand-pipers, with thin
cries, settled to feed on the red clay between the
canoes and the edge of the tide.  Suddenly they got up,
and puffed away in a flicker of white breasts and brown
wings; and I laid a hand on Tamin's shoulder.  The
painted band, Marc in their midst, La Garne in front,
were coming down the slope.

The lad's face was stern and scornful.  To my joy I saw
that there was to be no immediate departure.  The
redskins flung themselves down indolently.  The Black
Abbe saw his prisoner made fast to a tree, and then,
telling his followers that he had duties at Pereau
which would keep him till past sunset, strode off
swiftly up the trail.  Tamin and I, creeping as
silently as snakes back into the forest, followed him.

For half an hour we followed him, keeping pace for pace
through the shadow of the wood.  Then said I softly to
Tamin:-

"This is my quarrel, my friend!  Do you keep back, and
not bring down his vengeance on your head."

"That for his vengeance!" whispered Tamin, with a
derisive gesture.  "I will take service with de Ramezay,
as a regular soldier of France!"

"Even there," said I, "his arm might reach and pluck
you forth.  Keep back now, and let him not see your face!"

"Priest though he be, M'sieu," urged Tamin, anxiously,
"he is a mighty man of his hands!"

I turned upon him a face of scorn which he found
sufficient answer.  Then, signing to him to hold off,
I sped forward silently.  No weapon had I but a light
stick of green ash, just cut.  There was smooth, mossy
ground along the trail, and my running feet made no
more sound than a cat's.  I was within a pace of
springing upon his neck, when he must have felt my
coming.  He turned like a flash, uttered a piercing
signal cry, and whipped out a dagger.

"They'll never hear it," mocked I, and sent the dagger
spinning with a smart pass of my stick.  The same stroke
went nigh to breaking his wrist. He grappled bravely,
however, as I took him by the throat, and I was
astonished at his force and suppleness.  Nevertheless
the struggle was but brief, and the result a matter to
be sworn to beforehand; for I, though not of great
stature, am stronger than any other man, big or little,
with whom I have ever come to trial; and more than
that, when I was a prisoner among the English, I
learned their shrewd fashion of wrestling.  In a
little space the Black Abbe lay choked into submission,
after which I bound him in a way to endure, and seated
him against a tree.  Behind him I caught view of Tamin,
gesturing drolly, whereat I laughed till I marked an
amazement growing in the priest's malignant eyes.

"How like you my lesson, good Father?" I inquired.

But he only glared upon me.  I suppose, having no speech
that would fitly express his feelings, he conceived
that his silence would be most eloquent.  But I could
see that my next move startled him.  With my knife I cut
a piece from my shirt, and made therewith a neat gag.

"Though you seem so dumb at this present," said I,
"I suspect that you might find a tongue after my
departure.  Therefore I must beseech you to wear this
ornament, for my sake, for a little." And very civilly
prying his teeth open, I adjusted the gag.

"Do not be afraid!" I continued.  "I will leave you in
this discomfort no longer than you thought it necessary
to leave me so.  You shall be free after to-morrow's
sunrise, if not before.  Farewell, good Father, and may
you rest well!  Let me borrow this ring as a pledge for
the safe return of the fragment of my good shirt which
you hold so obstinately between your teeth!" And
drawing his ring from his finger I turned away and
plunged into the forest, where Tamin presently joined me.

Tamin chuckled, deep in his stomach.

"My turn now!" said he.  "Give me the ring, M'sieu, and
I'll give you the boy!"

"I see you take me!" said I, highly pleased at his
quick discernment.

We now made way at leisure back to the canoes, and our
plans ripened as we went.

Before we came within hearing of the Indians I gave
over the ring with final directions, to Tamin, and then
hastened toward the point of land which runs far out
beyond the mouth of the Habitants.  Around this point,
as I knew, lay the little creek-mouth wherein Tamin
kept his boat.  Beyond the point, perchance a furlong,
was a narrow sand-spit covered deep at every flood
tide.  In a thicket of fir bushes on the bluff over
against this sand-spit I lay down to wait for what
Tamin should bring to pass.  I had some little time to
wait; and here let me unfold, as I learned it after,
what Tamin did whilst I waited.

About sunset, the tide being far out, and the Indians
beginning to expect their Abbe's return, came Tamin to
them running in haste along the trail from Pereau, as
one who carried orders of importance.  Going straight to
the chief, he pointed derisively at Marc, whose back
was towards him, and cried:-

"The good father commands that you take this dog of a
spy straightway to the sand-spit that lies off the
point yonder.  There you will drive a strong stake into
the sand, and bind the fellow to it, and leave him
there, and return here to await the Abbe's coming.  You
shall do no hurt to the spy, and set no mark upon him.
When the tide next ebbs you will go again to the
sand-spit and bring his body back; and if the Abbe finds
any mark upon him, you will get no pay for this venture.
You will make your camp here to-night, and if the good
father be not returned to you by sunrise to-morrow, you
will go to meet him along the Pereau trail, for he will
be in need of you."

The tall chief grunted, and eyed him doubtfully.  After
a brief contemplation he inquired, in broken French:-

"How know you no lie to me?"

"Here is the holy father's ring, in warranty; and you
shall give it back to him when he comes."

"It is well," said the chief, taking the ring, and
turning to give some commands in his own guttural
tongue.  Tamin repeated his message word by word, then
strode away; and before he got out of sight he saw two
canoes put off for the sand-spit.  Then he made all
haste to join me on the point.

Long before he arrived the canoes had come stealing
around the point and were drawn up on the treacherous
isle of sand.

My heart bled for the horror of death which, as I knew,
must now be clutching at Marc's soul; but I kept
telling myself how soon I would make him glad.  It
wanted yet three hours or more till the tide should
cover the sand-spit.  I lay very still among the young
fir trees, so that a wood-mouse ran within an arm's
length of my face, till it caught the moving of my eyes
and scurried off with a frightened squeak.  I heard the
low change in the note of the tide as the first of the
flood began to creep in upon the weeds and pebbles.
Then with some farewell taunts, to which Marc answered
not a word, the savages went again to their canoes and
paddled off swiftly.

When they had become but specks on the dim water,
I doffed my clothes, took my knife between my teeth,
and swam across to the sand-spit.  There was a low moon,
obscured by thin and slowly drifting clouds, and as I
swam through the faint trail of it, Marc must have seen
me coming.  Nevertheless he gave no sign, and I could
see that his head drooped forward upon his breaSt. An
awful fear came down upon me, and for a second or two I
was like to sink, so numb I turned at the thought that
perchance the savages had put the knife to him before
quitting.  I recovered, however, as I called to mind the
orders which Tamin had rehearsed to me ere starting on
his venture; for I knew how sorely the Black Abbe was
feared by his savage flock.  What they deemed him to
have commanded, that would they do.

Drawing closer now, I felt the ground beneath my feet.

"Marc," I called softly, "I'm coming, lad!"

The drooped head was lifted.

"Father!" he exclaimed.  And there was something like a
sob in that cry of joy.  It caught my heart strangely,
telling me he was still a boy for all he had borne
himself so manfully in the face of sudden and appalling
peril.  Now the long tension was loosed.  He was alone
with me.  As I sprang to him and cut the thongs that
held him, one arm went about my neck and I was held
very close for the space of some few heart-beats.
Then he fetched a deep breath, stretched his cramped limbs
this way and that, and said simply, "I knew you would
come, Father!  I knew you would find a way!"



Chapter IV

The Governor's Signature

THE clouds slipped clear of the moon's face, and we
three -- Marc, I, and the stake -- cast sudden long
black shadows which led all the way down to the edge of
the increeping tide.  I looked at the shadows, and a
shudder passed through me as if a cold hand had been
laid upon my back.  Marc stood off a little, -- never
have I seen such quick control, such composure, in one
so inexperienced, -- and remarked to me:-

"What a figure of a man you are, Father, to be sure!"

I fell into his pretence of lightness at once, a high
relief after the long and deadly strain; and I laughed
with some pleasure at the praise.  In very truth,
I cherished a secret pride in my body.

"'Tis well enough, no doubt, in a dim light," said I,
"though by now surely somewhat battered!"

Marc was already taking off his clothes.  As he knotted
them into a convenient bundle, there came from the
woods, a little way back of the point, the hollow
"Too-hoo-hoo-whoo-oo!" of the small gray owl.

"There's Tamin!" said I, and was on the point of
answering in like fashion, when the cry was reiterated
twice.

"That means danger, and much need of haste for us,"
I growled.  Together we ran down into the tide, striking
out with long strokes for the fine white line that
seethed softly along the dark base of the point.
I commended the lad mightily for his swimming, as we
scrambled upon the beach and slipped swiftly into our
clothes.  Though carrying his bundle on his head, he had
given me all I could do to keep abreast of him.

We climbed the bluff, and ran through the wet,
keen-scented bushes toward the creek where lay the boat.
Ere we had gone half-way Tamin met us, breathless.

"What danger?" I asked.

"I think they're coming back to tuck the lad in for the
night, and see that he's comfortable!" replied Tamin,
panting heavily.  "I heard paddles when they should have
been long out of earshot."

"Something has put them in doubt!" said Marc.

"Sure," said I, "and not strange, if one but think of it!"

"Yet I told them a fair tale," panted Tamin, as he went
on swiftly toward his boat.

The boat lay yet some yards above the edge of tide,
having been run aground near high water.  The three of
us were not long in dragging her down and getting her
afloat.  Then came the question that was uppermost.

"Which way?" asked Tamin, laconically, taking the
tiller, while Marc stood by to hoist the dark and
well-patched sail.

I considered the wind for some moments.

"For Chignecto!" said I, with emphasis.  "We must see de
Ramezay and settle this hound La Garne.  Otherwise Marc
stands in hourly peril."

As the broad sail drew, and the good boat, leaning well
over, gathered way, and the small waves swished and
gurgled merrily under her quarter, I could hardly
withhold from laughing for sheer gladness.  Marc was
already smoking with great composure beside the mast,
his lean face thoughtful, but untroubled.  He looked,
I thought, almost as old as his war-battered sire who now
watched him with so proud an eye.  Presently I heard
Tamin fetch a succession of mighty breaths, as he
emptied and filled the ample bellows of his lungs.  He
snatched the green and yellow cap of knitted wool from
his head, and let the wind cool the sweating black
tangle that coarsely thatched his broad skull.

"Hein!" he exclaimed, with a droll glance at Marc,
"that's better than _that!_"  And he made an expressive
gesture as of setting a knife to his scalp.  To me this
seemed much out of place and time; but Tamin was ever
privileged in the eyes of a de Mer, so I grumbled not.
As for Marc, that phantom of a smile, which I had
already learned to watch for, just touched his lips,
as he remarked calmly:

"Vraiment, much better.  That, as you call it, my Tamin,
came so near to-night that my scalp needs no cooling
since!"

"But whither steering?" I inquired; for the boat was
speeding south-eastward, straight toward Grand Pre.

Tamin's face told plainly that he had his reasons, and
I doubted not that they were good.  For some moments
that wide, grave mouth opened not to make reply, while
the little, twinkling, contradictory eyes were fixed
intently on some far-off landmark, to me invisible.
This point being made apparently to his satisfaction,
he relaxed and explained.

"You see, M'sieu," said he, "we must get under the loom
o' the shore, so's we'll be out of sight when the
canoes come round the point.  If they see a sail, at
this time o' night, they'll suspicion the whole thing
and be after us.  Better let 'em amuse themselves for a
spell hunting for the lad on dry land, so's we won't be
rushed.  Been enough rush!"

"Yes!  Yes!" assented I, scanning eagerly the point
behind us.  And Marc said:-

"Very great is your sagacity, my Tamin.  The Black Abbe
fooled himself when he forgot to take you into his
reckoning!"

At this speech the little wrinkles gathered thicker
about Tamin's eyes.  At length, deeming us to have gone
far enough to catch the loom of the land, as it lay for
one watching from the sand-spit, Tamin altered our
course, and we ran up the basin.  Just then we marked
two canoes rounding the point.  They were plainly
visible to us, and I made sure we should be seen at
once; but a glance at Tamin's face reassured me.
The Fisher understood, as few even among old woodsmen
understand it, the lay of the shadow-belts on a wide
water at night.

Noiselessly we lowered our sail and lay drifting,
solicitous to mark what the savages might do.  The
sand-spit was by this so small that from where we lay it
was not to be discerned; but we observed the Indians run
their canoes upon it, disembark, and stoop to examine
the footprints in the sand.  In a moment or two they
embarked again, and paddled straight to the point.

"Shrewd enough!" said Marc.

"Yes," said I, "and now they'll track us straight to
Tamin's creek, and understand that we've taken the
boat.  But they won't know what direction we've taken!"

"No, M'sieu," muttered Tamin, "but no use loafing round
here till they find out!"

Which being undoubted wisdom of Tamin's, we again
hoisted sail and continued our voyage.

Having run some miles up the Basin, we altered our
course and stood straight across for the northern
shore.  We now felt secure from pursuit, holding it
highly improbable that the savages would guess our
purpose and destination.  As we sat contenting our eyes
with the great bellying of the sail, and the fine
flurries of spray that ever and again flashed up from
our speeding prow, and the silver-blue creaming of our
wake, Marc gave us a surprise.  Thrusting his hand into
the bosom of his shirt he drew out a packet and handed
it to me.

"Here, perhaps, are the proofs on which the gentle Abbe
relied!" said he.

Taking the packet mechanically, I stared at the lad in
astonishment.  But there was no information to be
gathered from that inscrutable countenance, so I
presently recollected myself, and unfolded the papers.
There were two of them.  The moon was partly clear at
the moment, and I made out the first to be an order,
written in English, on one Master Nathaniel Apthorp,
merchant, of Boston, directing him to pay Master Marc
de Mer, of Grand Pre in Nova Scotia, the sum of two
hundred and fifty pounds.  It was signed "Paul
Mascarene, Govr of Nova Scotia." The other paper was
written in finer and more hasty characters, and I could
not decipher it in the uncertain light.  But the
signature was the same as that appended to the order on
Mr. Apthorp.

"I cannot decipher this one, in this bad light," said
I; "but what does it all mean, Marc?  How comes the
English Governor to be owing you two hundred and fifty
pounds?"

"Does he owe me two hundred and fifty pounds?  That's
surely news of interest!" said Marc.

I looked at him, amazed.

"Do you mean to say that you don't know what is in
these papers?" I inquired, handing them back.

"How should I know that?" said Marc, with a calmness
which was not a little irritating.  "They were placed in
my pocket by the good Abbe; and since then my
opportunities of reading have been but scant!"

Tamin ejaculated a huge grunt of indignant
comprehension; and I, beholding all at once the whole
wicked device, threw up my hands and fell to whistling
an idle air.  It seemed to me a case for which curses
would seem but tame and pale.

"This other, then," said I, presently, "must be a
letter that would seem to have been written to you by
the Governor, and worded in such a fashion as to
compromise you plainly!"

"'Tis altogether probable, Father," replied Marc,
musingly, as he scanned the page.  He was trying to
prove his own eyesight better than mine, but found the
enterprise beyond him, -- as I knew he would.

"I can make out nothing of this other, save the
signature," he continued.  "We must even wait for
daylight.  And in the meanwhile I think you had better
keep the packet, Father, for I feel my wits and my
experience something lacking in this snarl."

I took the papers and hid them in a deep pocket which I
wore within the bosom of my shirt.

"The trap was well set, and deadly, lad," said I,
highly pleased at his confidence in my wisdom to
conduct the affair.  "But trust me to spring it.
Whatever this other paper may contain, de Ramezay shall
see them both and understand the whole plot."

"'Twill be hard to explain away," said Marc,
doubtfully, "if it be forged with any fair degree of
skill!"

"Trust my credit with de Ramezay for that.  It is
something the Black Abbe has not reckoned upon!" said
I, with assurance, stuffing my pipe contentedly with
the right Virginia leaf.  Marc, being well tired with
all that he had undergone that day, laid his head on
the cuddy and was presently sound asleep.  In a low
voice, not to disturb the slumberer, I talked with
Tamin, and learned how he had chanced to come so pat
upon me in my bonds.  He had been on the way up to the
Forge, coming not by the trail, but straight through
the forest, when he caught a view of the Indians, and
took alarm at the stealth of their approach.  He had
tracked them with a cunning beyond their own, and so
achieved to outdo them with their own weapons.

The moon now swam clear in the naked sky, the clouds
lying far below.  By the broad light I could see very
well to read the letter.  It was but brief, and ran
thus:-


To my good friend and trusted Helper Monsieur
Marc de Mer:-

DEAR SIR, -- As touching the affair which you have so
prudently carried through, and my gratitude for your so
good help, permit the enclosed order on Master Apthorp
to speak for me.  If I might hope that you would find it
in your heart and within your convenience to put me
under yet weightier obligations, I would be so bold as
to desire an exact account of the forces at Chignecto,
and of the enterprize upon which Monsieur de Ramezay is
purposing to employ them.

Believe me to be, my dear Sir, yours with high esteem
and consideration,

PAUL MASCARENE.


With a wonder of indignation I read it through, and
then again aloud to Tamin, who cursed the author with
such ingenious Acadian oaths as made me presently
smile.

"It is right shrewdly devised," said I, "but the
deviser knew little of the blunt English Governor, or
never would he have made him write with such courtly
circumlocutions.  De Ramezay, very like, will have seen
communications of Mascarene's before now, and will
scarce fail to note the disagreement."

"The fox has been known to file his tongue too smooth,"
said Tamin, sententiously.

By this we were come over against the huge black front
of Blomidon, but our course lay far outside the shadow
of his frown, in the silvery run of the seas.  The moon
floated high over the great Cape, yellow as gold, and
the bare sky was like an unruffled lake.  Far behind us
opened the mouth of the Piziquid stream, a bright gap
in the dark but vague shore-line.  On our right the
waters unrolled without obstruction till they mixed
pallidly with the sky in the mouth of Cobequid Bay.
Five miles ahead rose the lofty shore which formed the
northern wall of Minas Channel, -- grim and forbidding
enough by day; but now, in such fashion did the
moonlight fall along it wearing a face of fairyland,
and hinting of fountained palaces in its glens and high
hollows.  After I had filled my heart with the fairness
and the wonder of it, I lay down upon a thwart and fell
asleep.



Chapter V

In the Run of the Seas

IT seemed as if I had but fairly got my eyes shut, when
I was awakened by a violent pitching of the boat.  I sat
up, grasping the gunwale, and saw Marc just catching my
knee to rouse me.  The boat, heeling far over and hauled
close to the wind, was heading a little up the channel
and straight for a narrow inlet which I knew to be the
joint mouth of two small rivers.

"Where are you going?  Why is our course changed?"
I asked sharply, being nettled by a sudden notion that
they had made some change of plan without my counsel.

"Look yonder, Father!" said Marc, pointing.

I looked, and my heart shook with mingled wrath and
apprehension.  Behind us followed three canoes, urged on
by sail and paddle.

"They outsail us?" I inquired.

"Ay, before the wind, they do, M'sieu!" said Tamin.
"On this tack, maybe not.  We'll soon see!"

"But what's this but a mere trap we are running our
heads into?" I urged.

"I fear there's nothing else but to quit the boat and
make through the woods, Father," explained Marc; "that
is, if we're so fortunate as to keep ahead till we
reach land."

"In the woods, I suppose, we can outwit them or outfoot
them," said I; "but those Micmacs are untiring on the
trail."

"I know a good man with a good boat over by Shulie on
the Fundy shore," interposed Tamin.  "And I know the way
over the hills.  We'll cheat the rogue of a priest yet!"
And he shrewdly measured the distance that parted us
from our pursuers.

"It galls me to be running from these dogs!" I growled.

"Our turn will come," said Marc, glowering darkly at
the canoes.  "Do you guess the Black Abbe is with them?"

"Not he!" grunted Tamin.

"Things may happen this time," said I, "and the good
father may wish to keep his soutane clear of them.
It's all plain enough to me now.  The Indians, finding
themselves tricked, have gone back on the Pereau trail
and most inopportunely have released the gentle Abbe
from his bonds.  He has seen through our game, and has
sent his pack to look to it that we never get to de
Ramezay.  But _he_ will have no hand in it.  Oh, no!"

"What's plain to me now," interrupted Tamin, with some
anxiety in his voice, "is that they're gaining on us
faSt. They've put down leeboards; an' with leeboards
down a Micmac canoe's hard to beat."

"Oh!" I exclaimed bitterly, "if we had but our muskets!
Fool that was, thus to think to save time and not go
back for our weapons!  Trust me, lad, it's the first
time that Jean de Mer has had that particular kind of
folly to repent of!"

"But there was nought else for it, Father," said Marc.
"And if, as seems most possible, we come to close
quarters presently, we are not so naked as we might be.
Here's your two pistols, my good whinger, and Tamin's
fishy dirk.  And Tamin's gaff here will make a pretty
lance.  It is borne in upon me that some of the good
Abbe's lambs will bleat for their shepherd before this
night's work be done!"

There was a steady light in his eyes that rejoiced me
much, and his voice rose and fell as if fain to break
into a war song; and I said to myself, "The boy is a
fighter, and the fire is in his blood, for all his
scholar's prating of peace!" Yet he straightway turned
his back upon the enemy and with great indifference
went to filling his pipe.

"Ay, an' there be a right good gun in the cuddy!"
grunted Tamin, after a second or two of silence.

"The saints be praised!" said I.  And Marc's long arm
reached in to capture it.  It was a huge weapon, and my
heart beat high at sight of it.  Marc caressed it for an
instant, then reluctantly passed it to me, with the
powder-horn.

"I can shoot, a little, myself," said he, "but I would
be presumptuous to boast when you were by, Father!"

"Ay, vraiment," said Tamin, sharply; "don't think you
can shoot with the Sieur de Briart yet!"

"I don't," replied Marc, simply, as he handed me out a
pouch of bullets and a pouch of slugs.

The pursuing canoes were by this come within fair
range.  There came a strident hail from the foremost:-

"Lay to, or we shoot!"

"Shoot, dogs!" I shouted, ramming home the good measure
of powder which I had poured into my hand.  I followed
it with a fair charge of slugs, and was wadding it
loosely, when -

"Duck!" cries Tamin, bobbing his head lower than the
tiller.

Neither Marc nor I moved a hair.  But we gazed at the
canoes.  On the instant two red flames blazed out, with
a redoubled bang; and one bullet went through the sail
a little above my head.

"Not bad!" said Marc, glancing tranquilly at the bullet
hole.

But for my own part, I was angry.  To be fired upon
thus, at a priest's orders, by a pack of scurvy savages
in the pay of our own party, -- never before had Jean
de Briart been put to such indignity.  I kneeled, and
took a very cautious aim, -- not, however, at the
savages, but at the bow of the nearest canoe.

Tamin's big gun clapped like a cannon, and kicked my
shoulder very vilely.  But the result of the shot was
all that we could desire.  As I made haste to load again
I noticed that the savage in the bow had fallen
backward in his place, hit by a stray slug.  The bulk of
the charge, however, had torn a great hole in the bark,
close to the water-line.

"You've done it, Father!" said Marc, in a tone of quiet
exultation.

"Hein!" grunted Tamin.  "They don't like the wet!"

The canoe was going down by the bow.  The other two
craft ranged hurriedly alongside, and took in the
gesticulating crew, -- all but one, whom they left in
the stern to paddle the damaged canoe to land, being
loth to lose a serviceable craft.  With broken bow high
in air the canoe spun around, and sped off up the Basin
before the wind.  The remaining two resumed the chase of
us.  We had gained a great space during the confusion,
yet they came up upon us fast.

But now, ere I judged them to be within gunshot, they
slackened speed.

"They think better of it!" said I, raising the gun
again to my shoulder.  As I did so they sheered off in
haste to a safer distance.

"They are not such fools as I had hoped!" said Marc.

"I so far flatter myself as to think," said I, with
some complacency, "that they won't trust themselves
willingly again within range of this good barker."

By this we were come well within the wide mouth of the
estuary, and a steep, wooded point thrust out upon our
right.  All at once I muttered a curse upon my dulness.

"What fools we are, to be sure!" I cried.  "No reason
that we should toil across the mountains to your good
man's good boat at Shulie, my Tamin.  Put her about, and
we'll sail in comfort around to Chignecto; and let
these fellows come in range again at their peril!"

"To be sure, indeed!" grunted Tamin; and with a lurch
and great flapping we went about.

The canoes, indeed, now fled before us with excellent
discretion.  Our new course carried us under the gloom
of the promontory, whence, in a few minutes, we shot
out again into the moonlight.  It was pleasant to see
our antagonists making such courteous haste to give us
room.  I could not forbear to chuckle over it, and
wished mightily that the Black Abbe were in one of the
canoes.

"I fear me there's to be no work for Tamin's fishy dirk
or my good whinger," sighed Marc, with a nice air of
melancholy; and Tamin, with the little wrinkles thicker
than ever about his eyes, yelled droll taunts after our
late pursuers.  In fact, we were all three in immense
high feather, -- when on a sudden there came a crashing
bump that tumbled us headlong, the mast went overboard,
and there we were stuck fast upon a sharp rock.  The
boat was crushed in like an egg-shell, and lay over on
her side.  The short, chopping seas huddled upon us in a
smother.  As I rose up, sputtering, I took note of
Tamin's woollen cap washing away debonairly, snatched
off, belike, by a taut rope as the mast fell.  Then,
clinging all three to the topmost gunwale, the waves
jumping and sousing us derisively, we stared at each
other in speechless dismay.  But a chorus of triumphant
screeches from the canoes, as they noted our mishap and
made to turn, brought us to our senses.

"Nothing for it but to swim!" said I, thrusting down
the now useless musket into the cuddy, where I hoped it
might stay in case the wrecked boat should drift
ashore.  It was drenched, of course, and something too
heavy to swim with.  I emptied the slugs from my pocket.
Tamin ducked his head under water and fumbled in the
cuddy till I was on the point of plucking him forth,
fearing he would drown, -- Marc, meanwhile, looking on
tranquilly and silently, with that fleeting remembrance
of a smile.  But now Tamin arose, gasping, with a small
sack and a salted hake in his hands.  The fish he passed
over to me.

"Bread, M'sieu!" said he, holding up the drenched sack
in triumph.  "Now for the woods!"

'Twas but the toss of a biscuit to shore, and we had
gained it ere our enemies were come within gunshot.
Running swiftly along the strip of beach that skirted
the steep, we put the shoulder of the cape between,
and were safe from observation for a few minutes.

"To the woods, M'sieu!" cried Tamin, in a suppressed
voice.

"No!" said I, sternly.  "Straight along the beach,
till I give the word to turn in! Follow me!"

"'Tis the one chance, to get out of sight now!"
grumbled Tamin, running beside me, and clutching at his
wet sack of bread.

"Don't you suppose he knows what he is doing, my
Tamin?" interrupted Marc.  "'Tis for you and me to obey
orders!"

Tamin growled, but said no more.

"Now in with you to cover," I commanded, waving my salt
fish as it had been a marshal's baton.  At the same
moment I turned, ran up the wet slope where a spring
bubbled out of the wood's edge and spread itself over
the stones, and sprang behind a thick screen of
viburnums.  My companions were beside me on the instant,
-- but it was not an instant too soon.  As we paused to
look back, there were the canoes coming furiously
around the point.

Staying not long to observe them, I led the way
straight into the darkness of the woods, aiming for the
seashore at the other side of the point.  But Tamin was
not satisfied.

"Our road lies straight up yon river," said he

"My friend," said I, "we must e'en find another road to
Shulie.  Those fellows will be sure to agree that we
have gone that way.  Knowing that I am a cunning
woodsman, they will say, 'He will make them to run in
the water, and so leave no trail.' And they will give
hot chase up the river."

"But there be two rivers," objected Tamin.

"Bien," said I, "they will divide their party, and give
hot chase up two rivers!"

"And in the meanwhile?" inquired Marc.

"I'll find the way to Shulie," said I.  "The stars and
the sun are guide enough I know the main lay of all
these coasts."



Chapter Vl

Grul

THE undergrowth into which we had now come was thick
and hindering, so there was no further chance of
speech.  A few minutes more and we came out upon the
seaward slope of the point.  We pushed straight down to
the water, here sheltered from the wind and little
troubled.  That our footprints might be hidden, at least
for a time, we ran, one behind the other, along the lip
of the tide, where the water was about ankle deep.
In the stillness our splashing sounded dangerously loud,
and Tamin, yet in a grumbling humour, spoke of it.

"But you forget, my friend," said I, gently, "that
there is noise and to spare where our enemies are, --
across there in the wind!"

In a moment Tamin spoke again, pointing some little way
ahead.

"The land drops away yonder, M'sieu, 'twixt the point
and the main shore!" he growled, with conspicuous
anxiety in his voice.  He was no trembler; but it
fretted him to be taking what he deemed the weaker
course.  "Nothing," he added, "but a bit of bare beach
that the waves go over at spring tides when the wind's
down the Basin!"

I paused in some dismay.  But my mind was made up.

"We must go on," said I.  "But we will stoop low, and
lose no time in the passage.  They'll scarce be landed
yet."

And now, as I came to see how low indeed that strip of
perilous beach was, I somewhat misdoubted of success in
getting by unseen.  But we went a little deeper in the
tide, and bowed our bodies with great humbleness, and
so passed overwith painful effort but not a little
speed.  Being come again under shelter, we straightened
ourselves, well pleased, fetched a deep breath or two,
and ran on with fresh celerity.

"But if a redskin should think to step over the beach,
there'd be our goose cooked!" muttered Tamin.

"Well said!" I answered.  "Therefore let us strike
inland at once!" And I led the way again into the
darkness of the forest.

Dark as it was, there was yet light enough from the
moon to enable me to direct my course as I wished.
I struck well west of the course which would have taken
us most speedily to Shulie, being determined to avoid
the valley of the stream which I considered our
pursuers were most likely to ascend.  To satisfy Tamin's
doubts I explained my purpose, which was to aim
straight for Shulie as soon as we were over the water-shed.
And I must do him the justice to say he was
content, beginning now to come more graciously to my
view.  We went but slowly, climbing, ever climbing.
At times we would be groping through a great blackness of
hemlocks.  Again the forest would be more open, a
mingling of fir trees, and birches, and maples.
Coming at last to more level ground, we were still much
hindered by innumerable rocks, amid which the under-brush
and wild vines prepared pitfalls for our weary
feet.  But I was not yet willing to call a halt for
breath.  On, on we stumbled, the wet branches buffeting
our faces, but a cool and pleasant savour of the wild
herbs which we trod upon ever exhaling upwards to
refresh our senses.  As we crossed a little grassy
glade, I observed that Marc had come to Tamin's help,
and was carrying the sack of bread.  I observed, also,
that Tamin's face was drawn with fatigue, and that he
went with a kind of dogged heaviness.  I took pity upon
him.  We had put, I guessed, good miles between
ourselves and our pursuers, and I felt that we were, in
all reason, safe for the time.  At the further limit of
the glade there chattered a shallow brook, whose sweet
noise reminded me that I was parched with thirSt. The
pallor of first dawn was now coming into the sky, and
the tree tops began to lift and float in an aerial
grayness.  I glanced at Marc, and his eyes met mine with
a keen brightness that told me he was yet unwearied.
Nevertheless I cried:-

"Halt, and fall out for breakfast." And with the words
I flung myself down by the brook, thrust my burning
face into the babbling chill of it, and drank
luxuriously.  Tamin was beside me in an instant; but
Marc slaked his thirst at more leisure, when he had
well enjoyed watching our satisfaction.

We lay for a little, till the sky was touched here and
there with saffron and flying wisps of pink, and we
began to see the colour of grass and leaves.  Then we
made our meal, -- a morsel each of the salt hake which
I had clung to through our flight, and some bits of
Tamin's black bread.  This bread was wholesome, as I
well knew, and to our hunger it was not unsavoury; but
it was of a hardness which the seawater had scarce
availed to mitigate.

As we ground hastily upon the meagre fare, I felt,
rather than heard, a presence come behind me.  I turned
my head with a start, and at the same instant heard a
high, plangent voice, close beside us, crying slowly:-

"Woe, woe to Acadie the Fair, for the day of her
desolation cometh."

It was an astonishing figure upon which my eyes fell, --
a figure which might have been grotesque, but was
not.  Instead of laughing, my heart thrilled with a kind
of awe.  The man was not old, -- his frame was erect and
strong with manhood; but the long hair hanging about
his neck was white, the long beard streaming upon his
half-naked breast was white.  He wore leathern breeches,
and the upper portion of his body was covered only by a
cloak of coarse woollen stuff, woven in a staring
pattern of black and yellow.  On his head was a rimless
cap of plaited straw, with a high, pointed crown; and
this was stuck full of gaudy flowers and feathers.
From the point of the crown rose the stump of what had been,
belike, a spray of goldenrod, broken by a hasty
journeying through the obstructions of the forest.
The man's eyes, of a wild and flaming blue, fixed
themselves on mine.  In one hand he carried a white
stick, with a grotesque carven head, dyed scarlet,
which he pointed straight at me.

"Do you lie down, like cows that chew the cud, when the
wolves are on the trail?" demanded that plangent voice.

"It's Grul!" cried Tamin, springing to his feet and
thrusting a piece of black bread into the stranger's
hand.

But the offering was thrust aside, while those wide
eyes flamed yet more wildly upon me.

"They are on the trail, I tell you!" he repeated.
"I hear their feet even now!  Go!  Run!  Fly!" and he
stooped, with an ear toward the ground.

"But which way should we fly?" I asked, half in doubt
whether his warning should be heeded or derided.
I could see that neither Marc nor Tamin had any such
doubts.  They were on the strain to be off, and only
awaited my word.

"Go up the brook," said he, in a lower voice.
"The first small stream on your left hand turn up that a
little way, and so -- for the wolves shall this time be
balked.  But the black wolf's teeth bite deep.  They
shall bite upon the throats of the people!" he
continued, his voice rising keenly, his white staff,
with its grinning scarlet head, waving in strange,
intricate curves.  We were already off, making at almost
full speed up the brook.  Glancing back, I saw the
fantastic form running to and fro over the ground where
we had lain; and when the trees hid him we heard those
ominous words wailed slowly over and over with the
reiterance of a tolling bell:-

"Woe, woe for Acadie the Fair, for the day of her
desolation cometh!"

"He'll throw them off the trail!" said Tamin,
confidently.

"But how did they ever get on it?" queried Marc.

"'Tis plain that they have seen or heard us as we
passed the strip of beach!" said I, in deep vexation,
for I hated to be overreached by any one in woodcraft.
"If we outwit them now, it's no thanks to my tactics,
but only to that generous and astonishing madman.
You both seemed to know him.  Who, in the name of all
the saints, might he be?  What was it you called him,
Tamin?"

"Grul!" replied Tamin; and said no more, discreetly
husbanding his wind.  But Marc spoke for him.

"I have heard him called no other name but Grul!  Madman
he is, at times, I think.  But sane for the most part,
and with some touches of a wisdom beyond the wisdom of
men.  The guise of madness he wears always; and the
Indians, as well as our own people, reverence him
mightily.  It is nigh upon three years since he first
appeared in Acadie.  He hates the Black Abbe, -- who,
they say, once did him some great mischief in some
other land than this, -- and his strange ravings, his
prodigious prophesyings, do something here and there to
weaken the Abbe's influence with our people."

"Then how does he evade the good father's wrath?"
I questioned, in wonder.

"Oh," said Marc, "the good father hates him cordially
enough.  But the Indians could not be persuaded, or
bullied, or bribed, to lift a hand against him.  They
say a Manitou dwells in him."

"Maybe they're not far wrong!" grunted Tamin.

And now I, like Tamin, found it prudent to spare my
wind.  But Marc, whose lungs seemed untiring, spoke from
time to time as he went, and told me certain incidents,
now of Grul's acuteness, now of his gift of prophecy,
now of his fantastic madness.  We came at length, after
passing two small rivulets on the right, to the stream
on the left which Grul had indicated.  It had a firm
bed, wherein our footsteps left no trace, and we
ascended it for perhaps a mile, by many windings