At this point it seems proper that I should once more speak in my own person; for at this point the story of my beloved once more converges to my own.

I was awakened out of a bitter dream by Marc’s lips moving at my ear in the stealthiest whisper. The first pallor of dawn was sifting down amongst us from the open hatch, opened for air. I nodded my head to signify I was awake and listening. There was a ringing gabble of small waves against the ship’s side, covering up all trivial sounds; and I knew we were tacking.

“Listen now, Paul,” said Marc’s obscure whisper, like a voice within my head. “We have made a beginning earlier than we planned, because the guards were sleepy, and the noise of these light waves favoured us. You knew, or guessed, we had a plan. That wily fox, La Mouche, brought a file with him in his boot. It was sent to him while he was in the chapel prison. Gr?l, 255none other, sent it to him inside a loaf of bread—and, faith, thereby came a broken tooth. Your Gr?l is wonderful, a deus ex machina every time. Well, we muffled the file in my shirt, and I scraped away, under cover of all this good noise, at the spring of La Mouche’s handcuffs, till it gave. Now he can slip them on and off in a twinkling; but to the eye of authority they are infrangible as ever. Oh, things are coming our way at last, for a change, my poor dejected! We will rise to-night, this very coming night, if all goes well; and the ship will be ours, for we are five to one.”

There was a thrill in his whisper, imperturbable Marc though he was. Under the long chafing of restraint his imperturbability had worn thin.

My own blood flowed with a sudden warmth at his words. Here was a near hope of freedom, and freedom would mean to me but one thing—a swift return to the neighbourhood where I might achieve to see Yvonne. I felt the strong medicine of this thought working health in every vein.

“But how to-night?” I whispered back, unwilling to be too soon sanguine. “It takes time to file fetters, n’est-ce pas?”

“Oh, but trust La Mouche!” replied Marc. “He understands those bracelets—as you, my cousin, in days you doubtless choose to forget, understood the more fragile, but scarce less fettering, 256ones affected by fair arms in Montreal, or Quebec, or even Trois Pistoles.”

I took it ill of my cousin to gall my sore at such a moment, but I strictly held my tongue; and after a vexing pause he went on:

“This wily La Mouche—with free hands and the knowing how, it is but a turn and a click, and the thing is off. It will be no mean weapon, too, when we’re ready to wield it.”

I stretched fiercely.

“Pray God it be to-night!” I muttered.

“S-sh-sh!” whispered Marc in my ear. “Not so loud, boy! Now, with this to dream on, go to sleep again. There’ll be something to keep us awake next night.”

“And when we’ve got the ship, what then?” I whispered, feeling no doubt of our success.

“We’ll run into the St. John mouth,” was the answer, “and then, leaving the women and children, with such men as will stay, at the Jemseg settlement, we will strike overland on snow-shoes for Quebec.”

“And I for Grand Pré,” said I doggedly.

I heard the ghost of a laugh flit from Marc’s lips.

“Good dog! Hold fast!” said he.

There was no gainsaying it. I was better. For perhaps an hour or two I slept like a baby, to awake deeply refreshed. A clear light came down 257the hatch, and there was a busy tramping of sailors overhead. It was high mornin............