"Must we in all things look for the how, and the

why, and the wherefore?

Daily injustice is done, and might is the right of the

strongest!"

But, without heeding his warmth, continued the 300

notary public,—

"Man is unjust, but God is just; and finally justice Triumphs; and well I remember a story, that often consoled me,

When as a captive I lay in the old French fort at Port

Royal."

This was the old man's favorite tale, and he loved to

repeat it

When his neighbors complained that any injustice 305

was done them.

"Once in an ancient city, whose name I no longer

remember,

Raised aloft on a column, a brazen statue of Justice Stood in the public square, upholding the scales in its

left hand,

And in its right a sword, as an emblem that justice

presided

Over the laws of the land, and the hearts and homes 310

of the people.

Even the birds had built their nests in the scales of

the balance,

Having no fear of the sword that flashed in the sun

shine above them.

But in the course of time the laws of the land were

corrupted;

Might took the place of right, and the weak were

oppressed, and the mighty

Ruled with an iron rod. Then it chanced in a noble- 315

man's palace

That a necklace of pearls was lost, and ere long a

suspicion

Fell on an orphan girl who lived as maid in the house

hold.

She, after form of trial condemned to die on the

scaffold,

Patiently met her doom at the foot of the statue of

Justice.

As to her Father in heaven her innocent spirit 320

ascended,

Lo! o'er the city a tempest rose; and the bolts of the

thunder

Smote the statue of bronze, and hurled in wrath from

its left hand

Down on the pavement below the clattering scales of

the balance,

And in the hollow thereof was found the nest of a

magpie,

Into whose clay-built walls the necklace of pearls was 325

inwoven."

Silenced, but not convinced, when the story was

ended, the blacksmith

Stood like a man who fain would speak, but findeth

no language;

All his thoughts were congealed into lines on his face,

as the vapors

Freeze in fantastic shapes on the window-panes in the winter.

Then Evangeline lighted the brazen lamp on the 330

table,

Filled, till it overflowed, the pewter tankard with

home-brewed

Nut-brown ale, that was famed for its strength in the village of Grand-Pré;

While from his pocket the notary drew his papers and

inkhorn,

Wrote with a steady hand the date and the age of the

parties,

Naming the dower of the bride in flocks of sheep and 335

in cattle.

Orderly all things proceeded, and duly and well were

completed,

And the great seal of the law was set like a sun on the

margin.

Then from his leathern pouch the farmer threw on the

table

Three times the old man's fee in solid pieces of silver; And the notary rising, and blessing the bride and the 340

bridegroom,

Then, with a smile of content, thus answered Basil the

blacksmith,

Taking with easy air the accustomed seat by the fire- 230

"Benedict Bellefontaine, thou has ever thy jest and

thy ballad!

Ever in cheerfullest mood art thou, when others are

filled with

Gloomy forebodings of ill, and see only ruin before

them.

Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up

a horseshoe."

Pausing a moment, to take the pipe that Evangeline 235 brought him,

And with a coal from the embers had lighted, he

slowly continued :

"Four days now are passed since the English ships at their anchors

Ride in the Gaspereau's mouth, with their cannon

pointed against us.

What their design may be is unknown; but all are

commanded

On the morrow to meet in the church, where his 240

Majesty's mandate

Will be proclaimed as law in the land. Alas! in the

mean time

Many surmises of evil alarm the hearts of the

people."

"Not so thinketh the folk in the village," said, warmly, the blacksmith,

Shaking his head, as in doubt; then, heaving a sigh, he continued :—

"Louisburg is not forgotten, nor Beau Séjour, nor Port Royal.

Many already have fled to the forest, and lurk on its 250

outskirts,

Waiting with anxious heart the dubious fate of to

morrow.

Arms have been taken from us, and warlike weapons

of all kinds;

Nothing is left but the blacksmith's sledge and the scythe of the mower."

Then with a pleasant smile made answer the jovial

farmer :

"Safer are we unarmed, in the midst of our flocks 255

and our cornfields,

Safer within these peaceful dikes, besieged by the

ocean,