Charnisay at last, weary of the bloodshed, was fain to offer her fair terms if she would surrender and depart. She hesitated a moment, but, to spare the lives of her brave garrison, she {98} caused the gates of the inner fort to be opened, and so yielded. Then it was that Charnisay covered his name to the end of all time with the blackest infamy. His eyes dwelt on the smallness of the garrison, and, ashamed of the terms he had offered, he cried out, "I have been deceived! I have been deceived! Take these wretches out and hang them all one by one!" He ordered a halter to be placed about the neck of the splendid heroine, their intrepid mistress, Marie de la Tour. He forced her to witness the cold-blooded murder of her men, so that she swooned with horror. To Port Royal Charnisay then bore her away, where she fell ill, and in three short weeks was dead. Alas, poor Marie de la Tour! Her husband was now an exile from Acadia. By the capture of the fort he had lost not only his wife, but all his merchandise, jewels, plate, and furniture worth ten thousand pounds. His debts to the Bostonians being heavy, he became bankrupt. So while Charnisay flourished and grew rich at Port Royal, reigning supreme throughout Acadia, Charles de la Tour was a wanderer on the face of the earth. As a _coureur de bois_ he hunted and bartered for furs in the far north. Years passed, when, through a faithful follower, tidings reached him which filled his breast anew with hope. His enemy was dead, drowned in an Acadian river in the very flush and midsummer of his success, which, however, by the wildest extravagance, he had grossly abused. No sooner did De la Tour learn of this event than he took ship {99} immediately for France and poured out the story of his wrongs at the foot of the throne. The King acknowledged the injustice with which his faithful subject had been treated, and, to make amends, created him sole Governor of Acadia, with a monopoly of the fur trade. Once again back in the colony he loved, his fortunes grew bright. His coffers soon filled with gold. But the sight of the widow and children of his life-long enemy troubled him. He knew that they regarded him as profiting by their misfortunes. To make what reparation he could, he presented himself before Madame Charnisay. She did not spurn his attentions, and so he courted, then wedded her, and took her children under his protection.