“The priest will not harm me,” she went on, “and I shall be with friends—Louis Herbes and his good wife. They will build them a hut close beside the water, so that if chance offer they may return to English soil—dost hearken, Gabriel?” Gabriel’s face cleared. “Yes, yes, sweet cousin. I will take a boat—to-morrow—toward the sunsetting—remember.” “It is well. But, Gabriel, go. See the lambs—they come.” “I fear them not,” he cried, the warrior spirit awake in an instant; “let them come. Have I not baffled them already many times? I would bear thee through a host of them, my Margot.” “Go, I beseech thee!” she implored, a prayer in her eyes. “God keep thee in his holy keeping then, until we meet again,” and seizing her in his arms he pressed his lips to her brow, and was gone, followed by Jean Jacques. CHAPTER V In that hurried meeting and parting Margot had been unable to learn from Gabriel the history of his life since they had looked upon one another last. Of his conversion to the Protestant faith she already knew, and of his sojourn in the fort of Halifax, but of the rest nothing. Most of all, nothing of his miraculous escape from the treacherous Micmacs during the voyage from Halifax. Le Loutre, too well acquainted with his lambs to repose trust in them, and writhing under the knowledge that he could not bend the white boy to his will, had made use of a well-known half-breed spy to keep him informed of the doings at the fort. This man was instructed, should the murderous plot fail or the Micmacs be once more won over to the English, to offer the savages yet higher bribes, so that they should at the last moment turn again to France. These higher bribes of course prevailed, and reinforced by members of their own tribe, who boarded the vessel under cover of the darkness, the English crew was overpowered, and all, with one exception, massacred. The exception, needless to say, was Gabriel. When the priest heard of the boy’s escape he scarce knew whether to mourn or to rejoice; for, until he had seen him actually in English uniform, he had still hoped to win over this choice spirit to his service. Gabriel, being an expert swimmer, had contrived to make his way to the shore, and from thence by a toilsome route to the fort. Arrived there, all hesitation was at an end. Once and forever he threw in his lot with his father’s race; and chiefly in the hope of rescuing the _gran’-père_ and Margot, but also because his natural bent was to a soldier’s career, he offered his services to the government. Cornwallis accepted them gladly, placing him advantageously from the first, and recommending him strongly to his successor, to make way for whom he shortly after crossed the ocean. Cornwallis carried with him at best a heavy heart, but it was in some degree lightened by the gratitude of the many to whom he had shown kindness.