“They are here, my lord,” he said in a low voice.
“Do you retire, then, my son,” replied the governor; “your safety demands that you should not know too much if it be that you still desire to go with these savages.”
“It is my only hope, my lord.”
“And if you fail?” Cornwallis added, laying his hand kindly on the boy’s shoulder. “What then? Remember, that if you find neither Jean Jacques nor those dear to you, the country to whom your father proved his allegiance owes you in turn something.”
“Whether my quest be vain or no,” and Gabriel’s voice faltered, “God sparing me, I shall return to serve under the flag for which my father fought and died, and in the faith that was his.”
“God keep you, then,” said the governor fervently, and turned aside.
Great, indeed, was the astonishment of Jean Baptiste Cope, the favorite chief of Le Loutre, when he found himself ushered into the presence of the governor. He knew that the priest had commanded Gabriel to take advantage of his knowledge of the fort and of the habits of the sentries to admit the Micmacs into the building at the dead of night, while all save the sentries slept; yet here was the dead of night and here stood the governor himself, cool and grave, and the fort was alive with wakeful and armed men.
Cornwallis held in hand a treaty of peace, to which these same Micmacs had solemnly affixed their totems less than one year before. He was empowered by his government to go to almost any length in the matter of bribes and presents to bind the Indians to peace, as by such means alone was peace for the whole unhappy country to be secured. Le Loutre, deprived of his lambs, would be practically powerless to stir up strife. Already Cornwallis foresaw the tragic outcome of this long-continued trouble. The vacillations and treachery of the wretched Acadians rendered justice, law, and order alike impossible, and peace and prosperity were out of the question so long as they hesitated betwixt two masters. That Le Loutre was well paid for his services Cornwallis was assured. As the French minister wrote to Prévost, the intendant at Louisbourg, a French possession in Acadie: “The fear is that the zeal of Le Loutre and Maillard,” another equally bigoted priest, “may carry them too far. Excite them to keep the Indians in our interest, but do not let them compromise us. Act always so as to make the English appear as aggressors.”
Bearing these things in mind, Cornwallis bent all his energies to winning over the Micmac lambs, and after a long pow-wow, the pipe of peace was again smoked and “Major” Cope, as he called himself, swore for his tribe allegiance to the English government. Laden with gifts and escorted by the governor in person, they forsook their camp the following afternoon and embarked on a small schooner, manned by an English crew which outnumbered the little band of savages. With them went Gabriel.
Four weeks later Prévost wrote to the French minister: “Last month the savages took eighteen English scalps, and M. Le Loutre was obliged to pay them eighteen hundred livres, Acadian money, which I have reimbursed him.”