Be ready to-morrow night."
As he spoke he studied intently the face of Lecorbeau. But the sagacious
Acadian was a match for him. Lecorbeau's heart sank in his breast. He was
a prey to the most violent feeling of hatred toward his guest, and of
loathing for the task required of him. He saw in it, also, the probability
of his own ruin, for he believed the complete triumph of the English was
at hand. Notwithstanding, his face remained perfectly untroubled, while
Pierre flushed hotly, clenching his hands, and Mother Lecorbeau let
a sharp cry escape her.
"Be not a child, Jeanne!" said Lecorbeau, rebuking her with his glance.
Then he answered to the demand of Le Loutre.
"In truth, Reverend Abbe, I should like to prove my zeal in some easier
way. Have I not obeyed you with all diligence and cheerfulness, nor
complained when your wisdom seemed hard to many? Surely, you will keep
such harassing service for younger men, men who have not a family to
care for! Will you not deal a little gently with an old and obedient
servant? I pray you, let young men go on such enterprises, and let me
serve you at home!"
"I am too lenient to such as you," cried the priest, in a voice grown
suddenly high and terrible. "I know you. I have long suspected you.
Your heart is with the English. You shall steep your hands in the blood
of those accursed, or I will make you and yours as if you had never been!"
Antoine Lecorbeau held his countenance unmoved and bowed his head.
"It shall be as you will, father," he said, quietly.
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