



Produced by Lee Dawei, Sandra Bannatyne and PG Distributed
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THE RAID FROM BEAUSEJOUR


AND


HOW THE CARTER BOYS LIFTED THE MORTGAGE



TWO STORIES OF ACADIE

BY CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS






CONTENTS.



I. THE RAID FROM BEAUSEJOUR.


CHAPTER I.
"BEAUBASSIN MUST GO!"

CHAPTER II.
PIERRE VISITS THE ENGLISH LINES.

CHAPTER III.
FRENCH AND ENGLISH.

CHAPTER IV.
PREPARING FOR THE RAID.

CHAPTER V.
THE MIDNIGHT MARCH.

CHAPTER VI.
THE SURPRISE.

CHAPTER VII.
PIERRE'S LITTLE ONE.

CHAPTER VIII.
THE NEW ENGLANDERS.

       *       *       *       *       *



II. HOW THE CARTER BOYS LIFTED THE MORTGAGE.


CHAPTER I.
CATCHING A TARTAR.

CHAPTER II.
THE HAND OF THE LAW.

CHAPTER III.
A PIECE OF ENGINEERING.

CHAPTER IV.
A RESCUE AND A BATTLE.

CHAPTER V.
THE TRANSFER OF THE MORTGAGE.




ILLUSTRATIONS.


"BEAUBASSIN MUST GO!"
The family were gathered in the kitchen.

THE RAID FROM BEAUSEJOUR.
"They sped rapidly across the marsh."

MR. HAND.
"When he reached the door he knocked imperiously."

       *       *       *       *       *






THE RAID FROM BEAUSEJOUR.



CHAPTER I.

"BEAUBASSIN MUST GO!"


On the hill of Beausejour, one April morning in the year 1750 A.D.,
a little group of French soldiers stood watching, with gestures
of anger and alarm, the approach of several small ships across
the yellow waters of Chignecto Bay. The ships were flying British
colors. Presently they came to anchor near the mouth of the Missaguash,
a narrow tidal river about two miles to the southeast of Beausejour.
There the ships lay swinging at their cables, and all seemed quiet
on board. The group on Beausejour knew that the British would attempt
no landing for some hours, as the tide was scarce past the ebb, and
half a mile of red mire lay between the water and the firm green edges
of the marsh.

The French soldiers were talking in loud, excited tones. As they spoke
a tallish lad drew near and listened eagerly. The boy, who was apparently
about sixteen or seventeen years of age, was clad in the rough,
yellow-gray homespun cloth of the Acadians. His name was Pierre
Lecorbeau, and he had just come from the village of Beaubassin to
carry eggs, milk, and cheeses to the camp on Beausejour. The words
he now heard seemed to concern him deeply, for his dark face paled
anxiously as he listened.

"Yes, I tell you," one of the soldiers was saying, "Beaubassin must go.
Monsieur the abbe has said so. You know, he came into camp this morning
about daybreak, and has been shut up with the colonel ever since. But he
talks so loud when he's angry that Jacques has got hold of all his plans.
His Reverence has brought two score of his Micmacs with him from Cobequid,
and has left 'em over in the woods behind Beaubassin. He swears that
sooner than let the English establish themselves in the village and
make friends with those mutton-head Acadians, he will burn the whole
place to the ground."

"And he'll do it, too, will the terrible father!" interjected another
soldier.

"When will the fun begin?" asked a third.

"O!" responded the first speaker, "if the villagers make no fuss, and are
ready to cross the river and come and settle over here with us, they shall
have all the time they want for removing their stuff--all day, in fact.
But if they are stubborn, and would like to stay where they are, and
knuckle down to the English, they will see their roofs blazing over
their heads just about the time the first English boat puts off for
shore. If any one kicks, why, as like as not, one of His Reverence's
red skins will lift his hair for him."

A chorus of exclamations, with much shrugging of shoulders, went round
the group at this; and one said thoughtfully: "When my fighting days
are over, and I get back to France, I shall pray all the saints to keep
Father Le Loutre in Acadie. With such fierce priests in old France
I should be afraid to go to mass!"

Pierre listened to all this with a sinking heart. Not waiting to hear
more