the few French words which he had learned; for it was Terry's
delight to stop each one of them, and insist on shaking hands,
whenever he met them, saying at the same time, with all the gravity
in the world,--

"_Commy voo party voo, bong tong. Bon jure, moosoo_!"

Thus nearly a week passed, and during all that time Zac had heard
nothing about the fate of his friends ashore. Neither the priest nor
Margot sent him any message whatever. The Acadians themselves did not
hold any communication with the shore, but remained on board quite
placidly, in a state of calm content--as placidly, indeed, as though
they had been living on board the Parson all their lives.

During all the time Zac had been meditating over his situation, and
trying to see his way out of it. At length a ray of light began to
dawn into his mind, which illuminated his present position, and
opened up to him a way of action. One day after dinner, while the
Acadians were lolling in the sun, and while Terry was smoking his
pipe forward, Zac sauntered up to him in a careless fashion, and
placing himself near Terry, where he could not be overheard, he began
to talk in an easy tone with the other,

"Terry, lad," said he, "I'm getting tired o' this here."

"Faix, an' it's mesilf that's been waitin' to hear ye say that same
for a week an' more--so it is."

[Illustration: "I Think We Can Manage To Get The Schooner From These
Chaps."]

"Wal, ye see, I ben a turnin' it over in my mind, and hain't
altogether seen my way clear afore; but now it seems to me as how
it's a burnin' shame to stand this here any longer."

"Thrue for you; an' so it is," said Terry. "An' so, ef ye've got
anythin' on yer mind that ye want to do, why, out with it, for I'm
your man."

"Wal, ye see," resumed Zac, "it's this here; I don't want to go away
out o' this jest yet."

"Not go away! Tare an ages," cried Terry; "d'ye want to be a
prisoner?"

"Course not. I mean this: I don't want to go an' leave my friend
here, Motier, in the hands of the Philistines."

"Sure ye can't do anythin' for him; an' he's among his own kin--so he
is; for he jabbers French ayqual to the best of thim."

"No, I can't do anything for him as I am; that's a fact; and so I'm
bound to put myself in a position whar I can do somethin'; that is,
I'm bound to seize this here schewner, an' bring the old Parson back
to the fold."

"Arrah, sure, an' that's the right sort of talk--so it is; an' it's
mesilf tha