In the hurry that was on him he did not remember to be formally
polite, as was his habit.
The old priest looked up with a startled face. At the same time he
swept the fragments of paper together and clutched them hard in
his right hand. "Yes, yes, my son--yes I am going, but the time
has not yet come for it, has it?" he stammered. "Is it late?"
He sprang to his feet and appeared confused, as if caught in doing
something very improper.
Rene wondered at this unusual behavior, but merely said:
"I beg pardon, Father Beret, I did not mean to disturb you," and
went his way.
Father Beret stood for some minutes as if dazed, then squeezed the
paper fragments into a tight ball, just as they were when he took
them from under the floor some time before Rene came in, and put
it in his pocket. A little later he was kneeling, as we have seen
him once before, in silent yet fervent prayer, his clasped hands
lifted toward the crucifix on the wall.
"Jesus, give me strength to hold on and do my work," he murmured
beseechingly, "and oh, free thy poor servant from bitter
temptation."
Father Gibault had come prepared to use his eloquence upon the
excitable Creoles, and with considerable cunning he addressed a
motley audience at the church, telling them that an American force
had taken Kaskaskia and would henceforth hold it; that France had
joined hands with the Americans against the British, and that it
was the duty of all Frenchmen to help uphold the cause of freedom
and independence.
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