In spite of his disguise he was at once recognized by the man of the
house as an Acadian, and the wanderers found an instant and hearty
welcome. Over a hot supper (in the midst of which the tired child
fell asleep with her head in her plate, and was carried to bed by
the motherly good wife) Pierre told all his story.
"We shall have to keep you hidden till we get you away!" said the
villager, one Jean Breboeuf by name. "You see, their eyes are open at
the fort. They got word at Halifax, somehow, that our precious abbe
(whom may the saints confound!) was planning some deviltry, and messages
were sent to the different posts to guard the outlying settlements.
It's a wonder you didn't find English soldiers at Kenneticook, for a
company started thither. However, if the English catch you in this dress
they won't take long deciding what to do with you."
Pierre was greatly alarmed.
"Can't you give me something to wear?" he cried.
"O, yes!" answered the host, "we'll fix you all right in the morning
so nobody will ever suspect you. Then I'll get Marin--he's got a good
boat--to start right off and sail you round to Beausejour. But what
about the little one?"
"O, she goes wherever I go!" said Pierre, decidedly.
"Yes, yes! But she's got to be kept out of sight," replied Breboeuf
"She looks English, every inch of her; and if the people at the fort
get eyes on her there'll be an investigation sure!"
"Can you speak English?" queried Pierre.
"Well enough!" replied his host.
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