The Lily and the Cross: A Tale of Acadia

by James De Mille

"Do so," said Claude, eagerly; "and see if you can't get him free, as you have managed for me; and if you can persuade him, or beg him for me, to sail around to Canso, and meet me there, all will be well. That is the very thing we want. If he will only promise to go there, I will push on to Canso myself, at all hazards."

The priest now prepared to go. A few more words were exchanged, after which Claude and Père Michel embraced. The priest kissed him on both cheeks.

"Adieu, my dear son," said he. "I hope we may meet again."

"Adieu, dear Père Michel," said Claude. "I shall never forget your kindness."

With this farewell the two separated; the priest went out, and the door was fastened again upon Claude.

For the remainder of that night, Claude did not sleep much. His mind was filled with the new prospect that the priest's message had opened before him. The thought of being free once more, and at the head of a band of devoted followers, on the track of Mimi, filled him with excitement. That he would be able to overtake the party of Cazeneau, he did not doubt; that he would be able to rescue Mimi, he felt confident. The revulsion from gloom and despondency to hope and joy was complete, and the buoyant nature of Claude made the transition an easy one. It was with difficulty that he could prevent himself from bursting forth into songs. But this would have been too dangerous, since it would have attracted the attention of the people of the house, and led them to suspect that the priest had spoken other words to him than those of absolution; or they might report this sudden change to Cazeneau, and thereby excite his suspicions.

The next day came. Claude knew that on this day Cazeneau and his party had left, for he overheard the people of the house speaking about it. According to their statements, the party had left at about four in the morning. This filled Claude with a fever of impatience, for he saw that this first day's march would put them a long way ahead, and make it difficult for him to catch up with them. But there was only one day, and he tried to comfort himself with the thought that he could travel faster than the others, and also that the priest and Mimi would both manage to retard their progress, so as to allow him to catch up.

The day passed thus, and evening came at last. Hour after hour went by. All the family retired, and the house was still. Claude then slowly, and carefully, and noiselessly removed the window from its place. Then he waited. The hours still passed on. At last he know that it must be about midnight.

Suddenly he heard, immediately outside, a low, guttural sound—the well-known sound of a frog. It was the signal mentioned by the priest. The time had come.

He put his head cautiously outside. Crouched there against the wall of the house, close underneath, he saw a dusky figure. A low, whispered warning came up. Claude responded in a similar manner. Then, softly and noiselessly, he climbed out of the window. His feet touched the ground. No one had heard him. He was saved.