tink? To try de patriots. He will stan’ dem against de wall and shoot dem to death—kill dem dead. When dey come, de Curé he is not in Pontiac—non, not dat day; he is gone to anudder village. The English soldier he has de ten men drew up before de church. All de children and all de wives dey cry and cry, and dey feel so bad. Certainlee, it is a pity. But de English soldier he say he will march dem off to Quebec, and everybody know dat is de end of de patriots.
"All at once de colonel’s horse it grow ver’ wild, it rise up high, and dance on him hind feet, and—voilà! he topple him over backwards, and de horse fall on de colonel and smaish him—smaish him till he go to die. Ver’ well; de colonel, what does he do? Dey lay him on de steps of de church. Den he say: ‘Bring me a priest, quick, for I go to die.’ Nobody answer. De colonel he say: ‘I have a hundred sins all on my mind; dey are on my heart like a hill. Bring to me de priest,’—he groan like dat. Nobody speak at first; den somebody say de priest is not here. ‘Find me a priest,’ say de colonel; ‘find me a priest.’ For he tink de priest will not come, becos’ he go to kill de patriots. ‘Bring me a priest,’ he say again, ‘and all de ten shall go free.’ He say it over and over. He is smaish to pieces, but his head is all right. All at once de doors of de church open behin’ him—what you tink! Everybody’s heart it stan’ still, for dere is Mathurin dress as de priest, with a leetla boy to swing de censer. Everybody say to himself, What is dis? Mathurin is dress as de priest—ah! dat is a sin. It is what you call blaspheme.
"The English soldier he look up at Mathurin and say: ‘Ah, a priest at last! ah, m’sieu’ le Curé, comfort me!’
