But for the tremendous pressure already being put upon his unhappy commander by the events of this fifth day of September, Gabriel would have gone directly to him, and despite his gratitude to Marin for past services, would have requested that he be detained until he should reveal the whereabouts of Margot. But Winslow, New England Puritan though he might be, was finding, in common with his English brother-in-arms at Fort Edward, “things very heavy on his heart and hands”; so Gabriel forebore to trouble him with his own matters.
And if his superior’s heart was heavy, how much heavier was his—born and reared an Acadian of the Acadians, and now with personal loss and grief added to his other sorrows!
Marin, though crafty and self-seeking, had not the daring to break his word, unsheltered as he was by Gabriel from the righteous wrath of his compatriots; so night saw him back within the stockade. He kept his secret, nevertheless, and neither persuasion nor threats prevailed with him. The rest of the prisoners were all strangers to Gabriel, and had never heard of him before; and for reasons of his own, Marin kept their previous acquaintance dark.
As the days went on, and the prisoners increased in number both at Fort Edward and Grand Pré, the commanding officers grew uneasy. The transports that were to bear away the Acadian families with their household goods were slow in arriving, and it would have been easy for the prisoners, had they been men of courage and resolution, to overpower their guards and escape. Unfortunately the Acadian character possessed none of those qualities necessary for the preservation of freedom, or for the reclaiming of it if lost. Gabriel’s duties kept him constantly within the stockade; and the small force having no horses with them, and the village of Grand Pré, together with the other settlements, straggling for many miles, he had never been within a league of the house of Marin or encountered any chance acquaintance. The times were too strenuous, the crisis too tremendous, to permit of the least relaxation on the part of a loyal officer.
But although the transports delayed, ships from Boston came and anchored in the Basin. Winslow thereupon resolved to place about half of his prisoners upon these ships, and keep them there for better security until the transports should arrive. To Gabriel, because of his complete understanding of the language and the nature of his fellow-countrymen, the general left the hard task of explaining to the prisoners what was required of them, and of persuading them to submit quietly.
All were very silent as they stood in the churchyard guarded by soldiers. Winslow himself kept rather in the background, leaving his subordinate to enact the part of principal in this trying scene. The general, though a good soldier and popular with his men, had hitherto passed for a person somewhat ignorant and over-much addicted to self-satisfaction. But in the last few weeks he had had little opportunity for satisfaction even with himself. “This affair is more grievous to me than any service I was ever employed in!” was his constant lament. And now, as he stood quietly watching Gabriel, he observed for the first time the change in the young man. He was pale and wan, and his eyes wore the look of one who is forever seeking and never finding.
In a low, clear voice he announced the decision of the general, assured them of their perfect safety, and also that the wives and children of the married would soon be restored to them.
For a while a great murmuring prevailed, which Gabriel was powerless to subdue; it seemed as if, despite every effort, bloodshed must be the result of the manifesto. The New England soldiers, as has been said, had little sympathy with the “idolaters,” and were ready at a word to make short work of them. But Winslow was reluctant to say that word, and ere long Gabriel had the prisoners once more under control. A given number of unmarried men were then selected, these being sent off under guard to the ships; after them were to follow a smaller number of married men.
Gabriel stood like a figure carved in stone at the head of his handful of soldiers, whilst the commanding officer himself selected the Acadian husbands and fathers. Suddenly, before the guard could interfere, a figure hurled itself out of the chosen group and precipitated itself upon Gabriel, while a voice shrieked:
“Thou, thou who art an Acadian, thou canst save me! me, who took the cousin into my house and fed and sheltered her! Answer, dost hear?”