—Shakespeare, Henry IV.
GABRIEL THE ACADIAN
CHAPTER I
“It is the name my mother called me by,” quoth Gabriel sturdily.
For a moment there was silence, save for a murmur of horror that ran through the assembled Acadians at the daring of a boy who thus defied the fierce priest; yet his bearing was perfectly respectful.
“It is a heretic name!” exclaimed Le Loutre.
“Pardon, M. l’Abbé, but it is said not. My father also bare it, and his father before him. Never willingly will I be called by any other. Did not my mother swear on the crucifix to my dying sire that his child should bear his name? And to break a holy vow—is not that of all things the most sinful, O mon père?”
“Thy father died unshriven.”
“My father was of the Protestant faith,” rejoined the boy quickly. “He died faithful to his own, though far from the land of his birth. He would have carried my mother to join the colonists in Virginia, where abide many of his kindred, but the prospect of leaving our Acadian land did not please her, and he loved her more than kin or country. My father was a good soldier and brave, monsieur; he was but true to the flag he served, and to which all we of Acadia have sworn allegiance, and daily break our vows!”
He raised his eyes of English blue, and looked straight into those of the Abbé Le Loutre, black and angry as a thundercloud.