"Well, if you must go," said she, "I suppose you, must! Do try and please that hard-hearted priest; and you must put on warm clothes, for you'll be sleeping out at night, won't you?"
"But, father!" began Pierre--and then he stopped suddenly. "I wonder if I foddered the steers," he went on. As he spoke he rose from the bench whereon he was sitting, and went out to the barn.
Pierre had been on the point of saying that he was the one to go on the raid, as he had not taken any oath of allegiance to the English. It had occurred to him, however, that his father would probably forbid him thinking of such a thing, and he knew that in such a case he would be unable to put his plan in execution, as he had not learned in that simple neighborhood the lesson of disobedience to parents. He saw that if he went on the raid the requirements of Le Loutre were likely to be satisfied, while at the same time his father would be delivered from the danger of an accusation of treason. It was quite certain in Pierre's mind that his design would commend itself to the clear wisdom of his father, but he felt that the latter would forbid it because of his mother's terrors. He decided to act at once, and he turned his steps toward the fort. Certain misgivings troubled his conscience at first, but he soon became convinced that he was doing right.
While good wife Lecorbeau was wondering what kept Pierre so long at the barn, Pierre was at the commandant's quarters talking to the abbé. The latter greeted the boy kindly, and asked at once what brought him.
"I came to speak about to-morrow night, Reverend Father!" began the boy, doubtfully.
"Well, what of it?" snarled the priest, in a harsh voice, his brow darkening. "Your father isn't trying to beg off, is he?"
"O, no, no!" Pierre hastened to reply. "He's getting ready, and he doesn't know I've come to see you. He'd have forbidden me had he known, so I stole away. But I want to go instead of him. See, I'm young and strong; and I love fighting, while he loves peace; and he has pains in his joints, and would, maybe, get laid up on the march, whereas I can be of more use to the cause. Besides, he can be of more use to the cause by staying home, which I can't be. Take me instead--!"
Pierre broke off abruptly, breathless in his eagerness. For a moment his hopes died within him, for the abbé's face remained dark and severe. That active brain reviewed the situation rapidly, and at length approved the proposal of Pierre. It was obvious that Pierre, ardent and impetuous, would be more effective than Antoine in such a venture; and it occurred to Le Loutre that in taking the boy he was inflicting a sharper punishment upon the father.
"You are a right brave youth," he said, presently, "and it shall be as you ask. You shall see that I do well by those that are faithful. As for the traitors, let them beware, for my arm is longer than they dream. I reach to Annapolis and Fort St. John and Louisburg as easily as to Minas or Memramcook." Here the abbé paused and was turning away. Looking back over his shoulder he added, but in a low voice:
"Come hither at dusk to-morrow. I will send a messenger to your father in the morning, saying that I release him from the expedition. See that you say nought to him, or to any living soul, of that which is to be done!"