e Prince. Marie had that sensation of lost identity which has
confused us all. In her walk she passed the loops dangling ready for her
men. A bird, poised for one instant on the turret, uttered a sweet long
trill. She could hear the river. It was incredible that all those
unknown faces should be swarming below her; that the garrison was
obliged to stand tied; that Lady Dorinda had braved the rabble of
soldiery and come out to wait weeping at the scaffold end. Marie looked
at the row of downcast faces. The bond between these faithful soldiers
and herself was that instant sublime.

"I crave pardon of you all," said Marie as she came back and the rustle
of her gown again passed them, "for not knowing how to deal with the
crafty of this world. My foolishness has brought you to this scaffold."

"No, my lady," said the men in full chorus.

"We desire nothing better, my lady," said Edelwald, "since your walking
there has blessed it."

Father Vincent's voice from the tower door arrested the spectacle. His
cowl was pushed back to his shoulders, baring the astonishment of his
lean face.

"This is the unworthiest action of your life, my son De Charnisay," he
denounced, shaking his finger and striding down at the governor, who
owned the check by a slight grimace.

"It is enough," said D'Aulnay. "Let the scaffold now be cleared for the
men."

He submitted with impatience to a continued parley with the Capuchin.
Father Vincent de Paris was angry. And constantly as D'Aulnay walked
from him he zealously followed.

The afternoon sunlight sloped into the walls, leaving a bank of shadow
behind the timbered framework, which extended an etching of itself
toward the esplanade. The lengthened figures of soldiers passed also in
cloudy images along the broken ground, for a subaltern's first duty had
been to set guards upon the walls. The new master of Fort St. John was
now master of all southern and western Acadia; but he had heard nothing
which secured him against La Tour's return with fresh troops.

"My friends," said D'Aulnay, speaking to the garrison, "this good friar
persuades in me more softness than becomes a faithful servant of the
king. One of your number I will reprieve."

"Then let it be Jean le Prince," said Edelwald, speaking for the first
time to D'Aulnay de Charnisay. "The down has not yet grown on the lad's
lip."

"But I pardon him," continued the governor, "on condition that he hangs
the rest of you."

"Hang thy