“It is the will of _M. l’Abbé_,” he said again, “that I should go to Halifax on this ‘friendly’ mission? The Micmacs will camp without the fort, I shall be received within, and can then learn more than I know already of its defenses and of the habits of its defenders. The Indians, being friendly, will pass in and out with me, two or three perhaps only; I am to guide them with what secrecy I may from one portion of the stronghold to another, and they in turn will pass on their knowledge to the waiting horde concealed within reach, and then at a given signal the attack is to be made, and, they and I alike familiar with the weak points of the fort and other matters, they will easily gain entrance, and put all to fire and sword? Is this the will of _M. l’Abbé_?” Le Loutre looked back at him consideringly. Keen-sighted, as he was, he scarce knew what to make of this boy. Then he said: “You swear it in the name of the Holy Mother of God?” “I promise nothing,” said Gabriel steadily. “Then,” cried the priest with a sudden burst of fury, “remember this: If thou dost play the traitor——” “He can be no traitor,” Gabriel interposed, with a calm which compelled a hearing, “who gives no promise, except that if it be within his power he will defeat the plot laid.” “No matter what thou art,” burst forth Le Loutre again, “thou art false to the faith in which thou hast been reared. But forget not that thy course will be watched, and that if my commands are not obeyed thy grandfather and cousin will pay the forfeit—yes, with their very lives. Dost hear me?” Gabriel, pale before, whitened now to the lips. But he kept his steadfast eyes on the priest’s face as he replied: “I hear, _M. l’Abbé_.” * * * * * The blue waves of the harbor of Chebucto leaped gayly landward before the strong south wind. On the wooden ramparts of Halifax the sentinels kept watch, specks of scarlet betwixt the blue of sea and sky, moving, automaton-like, on their appointed rounds. But the automatons possessed eyes, nevertheless, and those directed north were riveted on a band of Indians who, since sunrise, had been busy getting into camp about half a mile from the post. The British colony at Halifax was now, counting those within and without its walls, over three thousand strong, and though the settlers without had been sorely harassed by Indians—whom the governor was beginning at last to suspect were set on by the French, despite the peace nominally existing between the two nations—they continued to thrive and increase. The Indians at present camping so near were soon recognized as Micmacs, who had made a solemn treaty with the British the previous year, consequently their appearance created but slight interest.