He waited for the response that came not. Gabriel lay as if life itself were already crushed out of him; every drooping finger of his strong, right hand nerveless, hopeless. Yet must there have been something of tacit resistance in his air, for Le Loutre continued in tones of exasperation: “Opposition will avail thee nothing, and for thy grandfather and cousin it will mean suffering and privation beyond their wildest dreams. Every Acadian is rewarded according to his loyalty to the king and to the true church. Hitherto I have spared them, but it is I alone who have the ordering of their going, and of the new home to which they journey. The _gran’-père_ is old, Margot more tender than is the habit of Acadian maidens, yet must the church not stay her hand when the saving of souls is in the balance. She must make example, she must discipline. I am no man meting out man’s justice,” continued the fanatic, raising his hands solemnly, “but chosen of the church to execute her righteous will. This being so, thou wilt find me relentless in my duty.” Gabriel’s benumbed senses, together with the spirit that in some natures never slumbers long, were reawakening. He found himself wondering why this autocratic priest, before whom all trembled, should find it necessary to explain his conduct to a mere boy. Then, as mental vigor returned more fully, he drew his exhausted body into a sitting posture, and said: “_M. l’Abbé_ commands that I shall go with these savages?” “Converts to the true church,” interrupted Le Loutre imperiously. “Who dares call baptized Christians savages?” “I name them according to their deeds,” continued Gabriel, with a certain manly dignity which had come to him of late. “Holy water on the brow does not change the heart.” “It doth not!” cried the priest in the same tone. “Jean Jacques is a pervert—perverted by thyself from the true faith.” “Yet he has played me false,” exclaimed Gabriel bitterly. “Dull-witted boy! Knowest thou no better than that?” Could it be? Was Jean Jacques faithful? Not only that, but free to help him again? Hope kindled once more within his breast. Then he rose to his feet and looked straight into the eyes of Le Loutre. [Illustration: “‘M. l’Abbé commands——.’”]