if you like! His Reverence the abbe arrived in Beausejour last night about
midnight, and he's going to fight, if we can't. Treaties don't bother him
much. He's got all his Micmacs with him, I guess. There they go now--the
other side of the stream. In a bit you'll see them at work strengthening
the line of the dike. They're going to give it to the beefeaters pretty
hot when they try to come ashore. There's your chance now for a brush.
His Reverence will take you, fast enough."

"Pierre shall do nothing of the sort, whether he wants to or not,"
interrupted Lecorbeau, with sharp emphasis.

"I wouldn't fight under him!" ejaculated the boy, with a ring of scorn
in his voice.

The old sergeant shrugged his shoulders.

"O, very well," said he. "I'm of the same way of thinking myself. But all
your people are not so particular. Look now, over at the dike. Did you
ever see an Indian that could handle the shovel as those fellows are
doing. I tell you, half those Indians are just your folks dressed-up,
and painted red and black, and with feathers stuck in their hair.
The abbe ropes a lot of you into this business, and you're lucky,
Antoine Lecorbeau, that he hasn't called on you or Pierre yet."

At this suggestion Lecorbeau looked grim, but troubled. As for Pierre,
however, with a boy's confidence, he exclaimed:

"Just let him call. I think I see him getting us!"

Yet, for all his bitterness against Le Loutre, Pierre felt the fever