He had no love for Englishmen and he did like
Americans, but he naturally thought that Helm's talk of fighting
Hamilton was, as his own would have been in a like case, talk and
nothing more. The fort could not hold out an hour, he well knew.
Then what? Ah, he but too well realized the result.
Resistance would inflame the English soldiers and madden the
Indians. There would be a massacre, and the belts of savages would
sag with bloody scalps. He shrugged his shoulders and felt a chill
creep up his back.
The first thing M. Roussillon did was to see Father Beret and take
counsel of him; then he hurried home to dig a great pit under his
kitchen floor in which he buried many bales of fur and all his
most valuable things. He worked like a giant beaver all night
long. Meantime Father Beret went about over the town quietly
notifying the inhabitants to remain in their houses until after
the fort should surrender, which he was sure would happen the next
day.
"You will be perfectly safe, my children," he said to them. "No
harm can come to you if you follow my directions."
Relying implicitly upon him, they scrupulously obeyed in every
particular.
He did not think it necessary to call at Roussillon place, having
already given M. Roussillon the best advice he could command.
Just at the earliest break of day, while yet the gloom of night
scarcely felt the sun's approach, a huge figure made haste along
the narrow streets in the northern part of the town.
Pages:
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172