"This is indeed well done, Antoine. I love thy zeal for the grand cause.
The saints will assuredly reward thee, and I will myself do for thee the
little that lies in my poor power! But why so heavy of cheer, man?"

"Alas, father!" returned Lecorbeau, sadly, "this is a sorrowful day.
It is a grievous hardship to forsake one's hearth, and these fruitful
fields, and this well bearing orchard that I have planted with my own
hands. But better this than to live in humiliation and in jeopardy every
hour; for I learn that these English are coming to take possession
and to dwell among us!"

The abbe, as Lecorbeau intended, quite failed to catch the double
meaning in this speech, which he interpreted in accordance with his
own feelings. Like many another unscrupulous deceiver, Le Loutre was
himself not difficult to deceive.

"Well, cheer up, Antoine!" he replied, "for thou shalt have good lands
on the other side of the hill; and thou wilt count thyself blest when
thou seest what shall happen to some of these slow beasts here, who care
neither for France nor the Church so long as they be let alone to sleep
and fill their bellies."

As the great cart went creaking on, Lecorbeau looked over his shoulder,
with an inscrutable gaze, and watched the retreating figure of the priest.

"Thou mayst be a good servant to France," he murmured, "but it is an ill
service, a sorry service, thou dost the Church!"

Within the next few hours, while Antoine and his family had been getting
nearly all their possessions across the Missaguash, first by the fords,