all to pieces. Den dere is ten men of de twenty come back to Pontiac
ver' sorry. Dey are not happy, nobody are happy. All de wives, dey cry;
all de children, dey are afraid. Some people say, What fools you are;
others say, You are no good; but everybody in him heart is ver' sorry all
de time.

"Ver' well, by-and-by dere come to Pontiac what you call a colonel with a
dozen men--what for, you tink? To try de patriots. He will stan' dem
against de wall and shoot dem to death--kill dem dead. When dey come, de
Cure he is not in Pontiac--non, not dat day; he is gone to anudder
village. De English soldier he has de ten men drew up before de church.
All de children and all de wives dey cry and cry, and dey feel so bad.
Certainlee, it is a pity. But de English soldier he say he will march
dem off to Quebec, and everybody know dat is de end of de patriots.

"All at once de colonel's horse it grow ver' wild, it rise up high, and
dance on him hind feet, and--voila! he topple him over backwards, and de
horse fall on de colonel and smaish him--smaish him till he go to die.
Ver' well; de colonel, what does he do? Dey lay him on de steps of de
church. Den he say: 'Bring me a priest, quick, for I go to die.' Nobody
answer. De colonel he say: 'I have a hunder sins all on my mind; dey are
on my heart like a hill. Bring to me de priest,'--he groan like dat.
Nobody speak at first; den somebody say de priest is not here. 'Find me
a priest,' say de colonel; 'find me a priest.' For he tink de priest
will not come, becos' he go to kill de patriots. 'Bring me a priest,'
he say again, 'and all de ten shall go free.' He say it over and over.
He is smaish to pieces, but his head is all right. All at once de doors
of de church open behin' him--what you tink! Everybody's heart it stan'
still, for dere is Mathurin dress as de priest, with a leetla boy to
swing de censer. Everybody say to himself, What is dis? Mathurin is