Part 16 (1/2)

First of all, up went the British ensign. Then, the howitzer was fired. The noise of the report did not fail of the effect which Zac had antic.i.p.ated. He saw the people turning out from their houses, some standing still and looking, others running towards the landing.

Again and again the gun was fired, each report serving to increase the excitement among the people ash.o.r.e. The British ensign was fully visible, and showed them what had taken place.

After this Zac sent Jericho ash.o.r.e in the boat, along with the chief Acadian. The others were confined below. Zac saw the Acadian land, and Jericho return. Then he waited.

But it was not possible for him to wait here, nor was it safe. The tide would soon fall, leaving, as it retreated, a vast expanse of bare mud flats. He did not wish to run any risk of the schooner grounding in a place like this, and therefore allowed her to fall with the tide, and gradually move back to the bay without. All the time, however, he kept one eye on the sh.o.r.e. The three hours pa.s.sed.

He had drifted down again for several miles, and it was no longer easy to discern objects. But at length he saw a boat sailing from the sh.o.r.e to the schooner.

As the boat came nearer, he saw that Claude was not on board. Two men were in her, one of whom was the man whom he had sent away, and the other was a stranger. This stranger was an elderly man, of venerable appearance. They came up, and both went on board.

The elderly man was one of the chief men of the settlement, and spoke English sufficiently well to carry on a conversation. The information which he gave Zac was not at all to the satisfaction of the latter.

It was to the following effect:--

That M. Motier had been kept in confinement at the house of Comeau; that early on the previous day M. Cazeneau had departed for Louisbourg, with the Abbe Michel, and the Countess de Laborde and her maid; that M. Motier, however, on the previous night, had somehow effected his escape.

Then the old man tried to induce Zac to set the Acadians free, except one, arguing that one life was enough to hold against that of Motier.

But to this Zac sternly responded that one hundred Acadians would not be of sufficient value to counterbalance the sacred life of his friend. The only thing that Zac conceded was the liberty of the Acadian whom he had sent ash.o.r.e; for he felt touched by the plucky conduct of this man in returning to the schooner. To his amazement, however, this man refused to go, declaring that he had come back to stand by his friends, and one of the others might be freed instead.

On referring the matter to them, one was found who was weak enough to take advantage of this offer, and he it was who rowed the old man ash.o.r.e.

Towards evening a canoe came gliding over the water, containing a single Indian. This Indian held aloof at a certain distance, scanning the schooner curiously. Zac, seeing this, sprang upon the taffrail, and called and beckoned to him; for a sudden thought came to him that the Indian might have been despatched by Claude to tell him something, and not knowing that he was no longer a prisoner, might be hesitating as to the best way of approaching. His conjecture seemed to be right, for this Indian, on seeing him, at once drew near, and came on board.

The Indian said not a word, but handed Zac a letter. Zac opened it, and read the following:--

”Claude Motier is free. Indians hafe safed him, and guide him to Louisbourg on the trail of Cazeneau. He wishes that you go to Canso, where you will be useful. He hope to safe Comtesse de Laborde, and want you to help to safe she. Go, then, to Canso; and if you arrive immediately, you sall see Indians, and must tell. They sall bing the intelligence to us.

”The Pere Michel.”

On reading this, Zac understood all. He saw that Pere Michel had been a friend, and had engaged the Indians to help Claude. He at once determined to go to Canso. That very night he sent the Acadians ash.o.r.e, and set sail.

CHAPTER XV.

FLIGHT.

On leaving the house, the Indian led the way in silence for some distance. In the immediate neighborhood of the house were open fields, while in front of it was the road which ran down to the river. The house was on the declivity of a hill, at the foot of which were broad dike-lands, which ran far out till they terminated at the island already mentioned. Beyond this lay the Basin of Minas, and in the distance the shadowy outline of the surrounding sh.o.r.es.

The Indian led the way for some distance across the fields, and then turned into the road. Along this he pa.s.sed till he reached the river.

It was the Gaspereaux, at the mouth of which was the place where Claude had landed. Here the Indian crossed, and Claude followed, the water not being much above their knees. On reaching the other side, the Indian walked down the stream, keeping in the open as much as possible.

At length they left the river, and went on where the ground rose gradually. Here they soon entered the woods. It was a broad trail, and though in the shadow of the trees it was rather dark, yet the trail was wide enough to allow of Claude following his guide without any difficulty whatever. For about an hour they walked on in this way, ascending steadily most of the time, until at length Claude found himself upon an open s.p.a.ce overgrown with shrubbery, and altogether bare of trees. Here several dusky figures appeared, and the guide conversed with them for some time.

Claude now seated himself on the ground. He felt so fatigued already from this first tramp, that he began to experience a sense of discouragement, and to think that his confinement had affected his strength. He gazed wearily and dreamily upon the scene before him.

There, spread out at his feet, was a magnificent prospect. The land went sloping down to the water. Towards the left were the low dike-lands running out to the island; beyond this the waters of Minas Basin lay spread out before him. Thus far there had been no moonlight; but now, as he looked towards the east, he noticed that the sky was already flus.h.i.+ng with the tints of dawn. But even this failed to rouse him.. A profound weariness and inertness settled slowly over every sense and limb, and falling back, he fell into a deep sleep.

When he awaked, he saw that it was broad day, and that the sun was already high up in the sky. He started to his feet, and his first thought was one of joy at finding that his strength had all returned.

At his question, the Indian who was the spokesman told him that Louisbourg was more than twelve days' journey away, and that the path lay through the woods for the whole distance.