"It's madness," said he. "My poor boy, it may cost you your life."
"Very well," said Claude; "let it go. I'd rather not live, if I can't have Mimi."
The priest looked at him sadly and solemnly.
"My poor boy," said he, "has it gone so far as that with you?"
"As far as that—yes," said Claude, "and farther. Recollect I saved her life. It seems to me as if Heaven threw her in my way; and I'll not give her up without striking a blow. Think of that scoundrel Cazeneau. Think of the danger she is in while under his power. There is no hope for her if he once gets her in Louisbourg; the only hope for her is before she reaches that place; and the only one who can save her is myself. Are my Indians faithful for an enterprise of that kind?"
"I have already told you," said the priest, "that they would all lay down their lives for you. They will go wherever you lead. And now, my dear son," continued the priest, "I did not think that you would dream of an enterprise like this. But, since you have made the proposal, and since you are so earnest about it, why, I make no opposition. I say, come, in Heaven's name. Follow after us; and, if you can come up with us, and effect a communication with Mimi, do so. Your Indians must be careful; and you will find that they can be trusted in a matter of this kind. If I see that you are coming up with us, and find any visitors from you, I will prepare Mimi for it. But suppose you succeed in rescuing her," added the priest; "have you thought what you would do next?"
"No," said Claude; "nor do I intend to think about that. It will depend upon where I am. If I am near Canso, I shall go there, and trust to finding some fisherman; if not, I shall trust to my Indians to take us back through the woods to Annapolis. But there's one thing that you might do."
"What?"
"Zac—is he on board the schooner, or ashore?"
"The skipper?" said the priest. "No. I have not seen him. I think he must be aboard the schooner. It is my intention to communicate with him before I leave this place."