Of de Ramezay's vain march against Annapolis I need not speak with any fulness here. The September weather was propitious, wherefore the expedition was an agreeable jaunt for the troops. But my good friend the Commander found the fort too strong and too well garrisoned for the force he had brought against it; and the great fleet from France which was to have supported him came never to drop anchor in the basin of secure Port Royal. It is an ill tale for French ears to hear, for French lips to relate, that which tells of the thronged and mighty ships which sailed from France so proudly to restore the Flag of the Lilies to her ancient strongholds. Oh, my Country, what hadst thou done, that the stars in their courses should fight against thee? For, indeed, the hand of fate upon the ships was heavy from the first. Great gales scattered them. By twos and threes they met the English foe, and were destroyed; or disease broke out amongst their crews, till they were forced to flee back into port with their dying; or they struggled on through infinite toil and pain, to be hurled to wreck on our iron capes of Acadie. The few that came in safety fled back again when they knew the fate of their fellows. And our grim-visaged adversaries of New England, rejoicing in their great deliverance, set themselves to singing psalms of praise with great lustihood through their noses.
And for my own part, when I reached de Ramezay's camp, the enterprise was already as good as abandoned. For a week longer, less to annoy the enemy, than to spy out the land and commune with the inhabitants, we lay before Annapolis. Then de Ramezay struck camp, and bade his grumbling companions march back to Chignecto.
But of me he asked a service. And, though I had hoped to go at once to Canard, I could not, in honour, deny him. I saw him and his little army marching back whither my heart was fain to drag me also; but my face was set seaward, whither I had no desire to go.
For the matter was, that de Ramezay had affairs with the Abenaqui chiefs of the Penobscot, which affairs he was now unable to tend in person, and which he durst hardly entrust to a subordinate, or to one unused to dealing with our savage allies. He knew my credit among the Penobscot tribes,—and indeed, he would have been sorely put to it, had I denied him in the matter. The affair carried me from the Penobscot country on to the St. Lawrence, and then to Montreal. The story of it is not pertinent to this narrative, and moreover, which is more to the purpose, the affair was no less private in its nature than public in its import. Suffice to say of it, therefore, that with my utmost despatch it engaged me up to the closing of the year. It was not till January was well advanced that I found myself again in de Ramezay's camp at Chignecto, and looked out across the snow-glittering marshes to the dear hills of Acadie.
I found that during my absence things had happened. The English governor at Annapolis, conceiving that the Acadians were restless to throw off the English yoke, had called upon New England for reinforcements. In answer, Boston had sent five hundred of her gaunt and silent soldiery, bitter fighters, drinkers of strong rum, quaintly sanctimonious in their cups. Their leader was one Colonel Noble, a man of excellent courage, but small discretion, and with a foolish contempt for his enemies. These men, as de Ramezay told me, were now quartered in Grand Pré village, and lying carelessly. It was his purpose to attack them at once. But being himself weak from a recent sickness, he was obliged to place the conduct of the enterprise in the hands of his second in command. This, as I rejoiced to learn, was a very capable and experienced officer, Monsieur de Villiers,—the same who, some years later, was to capture the young Virginian captain, Mr. Washington, at Fort Necessity. Though our force was less than that of the New Englanders, de Ramezay and de Villiers both trusted to the advantages of a surprise and a night attack.
For my own part I liked little this plan of a night attack; for I love a fair defiance and an open field, and all my years of bush fighting have not taught me another sentiment. But I was well inclined toward any action that would take me speedily to Canard. Moreover, I knew that de Ramezay's plan was justified by the smallness of the force which he could place at de Villiers' command. I had further a shrewd suspicion that there were enough of the villagers on the English side to keep the New Englanders fairly warned of our movements. In this, as I learned afterwards, I suspected rightly, but the blind over-confidence of Colonel Noble made the warning of no effect. The preparations for our march went on briskly, and with an eager excitement. The bay being now impassable by reason of the drifting ice, the journey was to be made on snow-shoes, by the long, circuitous land route, through Beaubassin, Cobequid, Piziquid, and so to the Gaspereau mouth. Every one was in high spirits with the prospect of action after a long and inglorious delay. But for me the days passed leadenly. I was consumed with impatience, and anxiety, and passionate desire for a face that was never an hour absent from my thoughts. My first act on arriving at Chignecto had been to ask for Tamin, trusting that he might have tidings from Canard. But de Ramezay told me that he had sent the shrewd fisherman-soldier to Grand Pré for information.
In a fever I awaited his return.
At last, but three days before the time set for our departure, he arrived. From him I learned that Marc was so far recovered as to walk abroad for a short airing whenever the weather was fine. He, as well as the ladies, was lying very close in Giraud's cottage, and their presence was not known to the New Englanders at Grand Pré, at which information I was highly gratified.
"And are the ladies in good health?" I asked.
"The little Miss looks rugged, and her eyes are like stars," said Tamin; "but Madame— Ah, she is pale, and her eyes are heavy." Tamin's own eyes almost hid themselves in a network of little wrinkles as he spoke, scrutinizing my face. "She weeps for the child. She said perhaps you, Monsieur, would find him in your travels, and bring him back to her!"