There was a hideous interval before a word was spoken, after her terrified eyes had taken in the fact that she was in the clutches of one of the dreaded Micmacs. Then, was it with increased horror or with relief that she recognized the voice which at last spoke?
“Margot! maiden!” The whisper was harsh. “It is thy priest and father in God who commands thy service.”
The shock temporarily deprived the girl of power to reply, but finding that she made neither struggle nor outcry, Le Loutre, for it was indeed he, released her.
This man was her enemy, so ran her swift thought; he had robbed her of all that made life dear.
Now Margot, though gentle in heart and deed, was human and intolerant, as the young usually are. Forgiveness of cruel wrong could only come through prayer and striving. She remembered the destroyed and abandoned home, made desolate by this man; the beloved gran’-père, dead from exposure and want; the beloved cousin, an outcast and a wanderer; and it was this man who had done it.
Yes, she guessed what the priest wanted. He was a hunted fugitive. But why did he come to her, whom he had so greatly wronged?
Then she remembered also the words Gabriel had once read to her from an ancient printed page treasured by his mother as having been the property of his father: “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those that trespass against us.”
She was so long silent that the voice of Le Loutre had in it a quaver of apprehension when he again addressed her, and when she looked up and saw, even in the moonlight, how almost craven were the glances the once arrogant priest cast over his shoulder into the dim, wide-stretching woods, compassion as well as higher emotions was aroused, and her resolve taken.
“M. l’Abbé,” she said simply, “there are none here who would harm their priest, even should they awake. As for me, I will do what I can, and God will teach me to forgive you.”
At the sound of such words from one of the least of his flock, the priest’s imperious temper sprang to his lips. But the situation was too perilous for anger.