Then, too, the Indians, contrasting us with the French, thought of them as brave warriors, who loved swordplay, and fighting, while we English, ’twas deemed, cared for nothing but raising the crops, which was, with the red men the work of their squaws.
So, I found to my sorrow, ere long, that the Indians loved the French and were glad to battle against us.
Among the settlers, now, there was much fear of a sudden night attack from the forest. Madockewando, Moxus and Egeremet, fierce Indian chiefs, whose names were but other words for carnage, treachery and horrid massacres, were with de Vilebon, we heard.
To these chiefs and their followers, the French had furnished not only guns, swords, powder and bullets, but even food, so that the savages had naught to do save fight, which they were ever ready for. De Vilebon had established himself at St. Johns, in Nova Scotia, where a fort of no mean strength had been thrown up. Approach by either land or sea was not easy, I learned from scouts.
Sir William wrote that few men defended the place now, though troops were expected in the fall. Could we but be successful against this fort, capturing de Vilebon, the spirit of the Colonists would be much strengthened, and a blow would be dealt the French forces that would teach them and their Indian allies a severe lesson.
My plan for the expedition was to sail to within a few miles of St. Johns, and land most of my force. Then the two sloops and their crews could sail boldly up to the town, and while menacing it from the sea by the boats, I could lead my men to the rear of the fort. I counted on the sea attack, if the cannon were rapidly fired, to create such a diversion as to detract attention from the rear, and while the enemy was engaged against the sloops, I could fall upon the fort with my force and storm it. So my plans were laid, and I called my lieutenants and made them acquainted with the way matters stood.
Two days, busy ones in truth, were spent in getting ready. I had seen little of Lucille in that time, though I much more desired to be near her than at the task with which I was engaged. But night, as well as day, was filled with work. At length, when I thought all was in readiness, and I had looked to my own arms, and had a new edge put on my sword, I went out one evening across the meadows to her.
She was waiting for me.
“You have only come to say good bye, I fear,” she said.
“Only for a time, dear heart,” I answered.