But Gabriel was on duty, and made as though he neither heard nor saw. Shaking Marin from his arm, he motioned to his men to replace him in the ranks.
Winslow’s curiosity, ever active, was, however, aroused, and seizing his opportunity, he drew his subordinate to one side and questioned him. Gabriel replied with his customary brevity and straightforwardness.
“And why did you not come at once to me, sir?” rejoined Winslow, puffing and mopping his fat, red face.
The young man stated his reasons, adding that though Marin might possibly know where Margot was, no reliance was to be placed upon the word of a man who was concerned only for his own comfort and had no respect for truth.
“That may be, that may be,” fussed the kind-hearted general. “But, lieutenant, you will now conduct these men to the ships. Their women will of a surety line the way along which you have to pass. Assure them of my permission to visit their men-folk daily until this troublesome job be at an end—as God grant it may be ere long. Your eyes may be on the women as well as on your duty, eh? You are young, yet I have proven you worthy of trust.”
So saying, the general bustled off, and shortly after the gates of the stockade were again opened and the procession started for the shores of the Basin.
For one of Gabriel’s years and position the task set him, though kindly intentioned, was a heartbreaking one. But a few miles distant, near the mouth of the Annapolis River, he and Margot had been born and reared. In spite of his manhood, or perhaps because he was so true a man, the hot tears rose to his eyes, kept from falling only by the might of his iron will; for all along the wayside toward the water’s edge kneeled or stood the wives and children of the men tramping beside him through the late summer’s dust, gazing as they passed not merely on those wives and children, but upon the wide and fertile meadows whose harvests they should never gather more.
At intervals as he walked Gabriel proclaimed the general’s behests and promises; and one or two women, who knew now for the first time of his presence in the neighborhood and recognized him, pressed forward to clasp his hands and cover them with tears, and plead with the man who, as a little babe, they had held upon their strong knees and pressed to their broad Acadian bosoms. Unable longer to endure in silence, on his own account he at length called a halt, and in loud, ringing tones spoke these words:
“Fellow-countrymen, I serve my general, and him I must obey. But his heart, even as my own, is heavy for your sufferings, and again I tell you that your husbands and fathers are not being borne away from you. They will remain on the ships but a short distance from the shore, and every day you can visit them until such time as the transports arrive and you all sail away together, you and your children and your household goods. Grieve not, then, for loss which is not yours.”
Concluding his brief address he stepped down from the low mound upon which he had mounted, and confronted the wife of Marin. Evidently she belonged to the class of women whose indifference had so greatly astonished the English lieutenant; for her face was calm, and she smiled as she met Gabriel’s eyes. It was impossible for him to pause longer, but although her husband’s malevolent gaze was riveted upon her, Julie extended her hand and caught that of the young officer as he swung past on the march.