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He carried no weapon but under the black robe beat a heart as dauntless as that of Robert, or of Willet, or of Tayoga, and an invincible faith that had already moved mountains. Onondaga men and women received Father Philibert Drouillard, and knelt for his willing blessing.
"I heard the noise of the battle from within," said Father Drouillard calmly, "and for the first time in my life I prayed that the Bostonnais might win." "If you don't mind, Father, bring the lamp, and let us see the fallen. There must be at least fifteen here." Father Drouillard, holding the light high, walked out upon the lawn with steady step.
Despite the memories of Champlain and Frontenac, despite the long and honored alliance with the English, the French missionaries, whom no hardships could stop, had made converts among the Onondagas, an enlightened nation with kindly and gentle instincts, and of all these missionaries Father Drouillard had the most tenacious and powerful will.
"The chateau that you see belongs to the young Count Jean de Mézy, a friend of the Intendant, Bigot. Sometimes they come from their revels at Beaumanoir to the Chateau de Mézy, and continue them there. Now you can see why Father Drouillard, who sympathizes with our honnêtes gens, delivers his malediction." The priest returned to his seat, and averted his face.
Jumonville had done him as much injury as he could, but he was sorry for him, and had he been able to stay the ebbing of his life, he would have done so. As the good priest finished his prayer the head of François de Jumonville fell back. He was dead. "We will take his body into the house," said Father Drouillard, "prepare it for the grave and give him Christian burial.
That was indeed a pleasing as well as a crafty speech. The affair had been settled. The man in the British uniform grasped Simon by the arm. "You are reprieved. Now you will come with me." Again reprieved? Thoroughly bewildered, Simon followed him out. They mounted horses, and rode north, with one chief. "I am Captain Drouillard," explained the officer. "This is what I said to the council."
There is too much blood between us." Then, turning to Chevalier de St. Luc and Father Drouillard, he said: "Go you back to Quebec and tell Onontio that he cannot come to us with promises in one hand and murder in the other. Our young men will guard you and see that you are safe, until you pass out of our lands. Go! Through me the fifty sachems speak for the great League of the Hodenosaunee."
"Father Drouillard!" he exclaimed. "I believed you to be in Canada! I did not think there was any duty that could call you to the vale of Onondaga!" The stern face of the priest relaxed into a slight smile. This youth, though of the hostile race, was handsome and winning, and as Father Drouillard knew, he had a good heart.
Three or four minutes passed, and there was the report of a rifle shot from the southern bank, followed an instant later by another. Two bullets splashed in the water near the Independence. "We'd better pull back a leetle," said Drouillard. "We are drifting within range of ze warriors." "So we are," said Lyon, laying his hand on a sweep. "Now, what under the moon is that?"
Robert recalled that there were Catholic converts among the Onondagas, a fact that he had forgotten for the time, and he realized at once what a powerful factor Father Drouillard would be in the fight against him. "The Chevalier de St. Luc has been here for some time," he said, "waiting until the fifty sachems are ready to hear him in council, when he will speak for France. Mr.
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