CHAPTER XIV. — MANOEUVRES OF ZAC.
Zac slept but little that night. There were two causes for wakefulness. The first was Margot, who had wrought such mischief with his thoughts and feelings that he did not know what was the matter with him. The second cause was the condition of Claude.
Gradually Margot's image faded away, and he began to turn his thoughts towards the problem of delivering Claude. How was that to be done?
Over this he thought for the greater part of that night. Towards morning he called Terry, who was to watch for the remainder of the night, and proceeded to hold a council of war.
First of all he acquainted Terry with the general state of affairs. Part of Margot's information had been overheard by him; but Terry, seeing how things were, had discreetly withdrawn aft, and kept up a loud whistle, so as to prevent himself from overhearing their words; so that now the greater part of this information was news to the Irish boy.
"And have ye thought of anythin' at all, at all?" he asked.
"Wal, I've thought over most everythin'," said Zac. "You see, the state of the case is this: they've got one of us a prisoner ashore over there, but we've got six of them a prisoner out here."
"Thrue for you," said Terry.
"Wal, now, you see, if this Cazeneau was here, he hates Motier so like pison that he'd sacrifice a hundred Frenchmen rayther'n let him go—an' in my 'pinion he's worth a hundred Frenchmen, an' more. But now, bein' as Cazeneau's goin' away to-morrer, we'll be in a position to deal with the people here that's a keepin' Motier; an' when it comes to them—why, they won't feel like losin' six of their men for the sake of one stranger."
"I wonder," said Terry, "whether the owld boy that came out in the boat found out anythin'. 'Deed, if he'd had his wits about him, an' eyes in his head, he'd have seen it all,—so he would."
"Wal, we'll hev to let 'em know, right straight off."
"To-morra'd be best."
"Yes; an' then Cazeneau'll be off. I'd rayther wait till then; it'll be better for us to have him out of the way."
"What'll ye do?"
"Wal, I'll sail up, and send word ashore."
"How'll you sind word? We can't spake a word of the lingo."
"Wal, I ben a thinkin' it over, an' I've about come to the conclusion that the old Frenchman down thar in the cabin'll be the best one to send."
"Sure, an' ye won't sind the Frenchman ashore in yer own boat!"
"Why not?"
"He'll niver bring it back; so he won't."
"Then we'll keep the other five Frenchmen."
"Sure, an' it's a hard thing altogether, so it is, to hev to thrust him. He'll be after rousin' the country, an' they'll power down upon us in five hundred fishin' boats; so they will."
"Wal, if I staid here to anchor, that might be dangerous," said Zac; "but I ain't got no idee of standin' still in one place for them to attack me."
"Sure, an' it'll be best to let him see that if he don't come back wid Misther Motier, the whole five'll hev their brains blown out."
"Sartin. He'll have to go with that in his mind; an' what's more, I'll make him swear an oath to come back."
"Sure, an' it'll be the hard thing to do when neither of yez ondherstan' enough of one another's lingo to ax the time af day."
"Wal, then I'll have to be satisfied with the other five Moosoos. If the first Moosoo runs for it, he'll leave the other five, an' I ain't goin' to b'lieve that the farmers here air goin' to let five of their own relatives and connections perish, rayther'n give up one stranger."
A few more words followed, and then Zac retired below, leaving Terry on deck.
A few hours' sleep sufficed for Zac, and not long after sunrise he was all ready for action. But the tide was not quite high enough for his purposes. The long-extended mud flats lay bare in the distance for miles, and Zac had to wait until a portion, at least, of this space should be covered. At length the water had spread over as much of the red mud as seemed desirable, while every hour the schooner would have a greater depth beneath her; so Zac concluded to start. Up then went the anchor, the sails were set, and yielding to the impulse of a favorable breeze, the Parson turned her head towards the landing-place at Grand Pré.
Various preparations had to be made, and these now engaged the attention of Zac, who committed the care of the helm to Terry. The first was the composition of a letter. It was to be short and to the point. Zac had already settled in his own mind about the wording of this, so that the writing of it now occupied but a little time. It was as follows:—
"To any Magistrate at Grand Pré:—
"Know all men by this, that the six Acadians sent to take charge of the schooner 'Rev. Amos Adams,' are now held by me as my prisoners until such time as Mr. Claude Motier shall be delivered free from prison. And if Mr. Claude Motier shall not be set free, these six shall be carried to prison to Boston. And if Mr. Claude Motier be put to death, these six shall one and all be put to death likewise.
"An answer is required within three hours.
"Zion Awake CoX. — "Master of the schooner 'Rev. Amos Adams.'
"Minas Basin, May 28, 1743."
This Zac folded and addressed, thinking that if no one in Grand Pré could read English, it would be taken to Claude himself for translation.
He next prepared to hoist a large British ensign. It was not often that the Parson showed her colors, but on this occasion it was necessary, and Zac saw that this display of English colors would be an act which would tell its own story, and show Moosoo that the schooner had once more changed masters. The colors lay on deck, ready to be hoisted at the proper moment. What that moment was to be he had already decided. Zac, in his preparations on this occasion, showed that he possessed a line eye for dramatic effect, and knew how to create a sensation. There was a small howitzer amidships,—Zac's joy and pride,—which, like the ensign, was made use of only on great and rare occasions, such as the king's birthday, or other seasons of general rejoicing. This he determined to make use of at the present crisis, thinking that it would speak in tones that would strike terror to the heart of Moosoo, both on board and ashore.
Last of all, it remained to explain to the Acadians on board the purposes upon which he was bent. They were still below. Jericho had supplied them with their breakfast there, but Zac had not allowed them on deck. Now, however, he summoned forth their chief man, leaving the others behind, and proceeded to endeavor, as far as possible, to explain to this man what he wished.
The Acadian's stock of English words was but small, yet Zac was able, after all, by the help of signs, to give him some idea of his purpose. The letter also was shown him, and he seemed able to gather from it a general idea of its meaning. His words to Zac indicated a very lively idea of the danger which was impending over the prisoners.
"Me go," he said. "Put me 'shore. Me go tout de suite; me deliver M. Motier; make come here tout de suite—bon!"
"All right," said Zac; "but mind you, he must be here in three hours—three," he repeated, holding up three fingers; "three hours."
"O, oui—yes—certainement—tree hour."
"These others will be all prisoners if he don't come."
"O, oui—yes; all personaire; mais he vill come, tout certainement."
"You und'stand now, Moosoo, sure?"
"O, oui; me comprends—ond'stand—certainement."
"Well, then, you wait up here till we get nearer, and then you can go ashore in the boat."
But Zac's preparations were destined to undergo some delay, for the wind died out, and the schooner lay idle upon the surface of the water. For several hours Zac waited patiently, hoping for a change; but no change came. At length the tide turned, and after a time the schooner, which had already been drifting helplessly, now began to be carried back towards the place from which she had started.
Zac was now left to his own invention, and could only decide that on the following day, if the wind should fail him, he would send the boat ashore from his present anchorage, and wait the result. For various reasons, however, he preferred going nearer; and therefore he had refrained from sending the boat ashore that day.
The next day came. There was a fresh breeze and a favorable one. The waters began to rise. Zac was all ready. Up went the anchor, the sails were set, and once more the Parson was turned towards the landing. The breeze now blew steadily, and in course of time Zac found himself sufficiently near for his purposes, and he began to act.
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 anticipated. 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 ashore. The British ensign was fully visible, and showed them what had taken place.
After this Zac sent Jericho ashore 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 shore. The three hours passed. 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 shore 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 Abbé 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 ashore; 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 ashore.
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 Père Michel."
On reading this, Zac understood all. He saw that Père 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 ashore, and set sail.