were too high
for you? Monsieur, the sum mounts up." His voice was full of bitterness
and hatred. "Why did we spare you?" he repeated, and paused.

Gering could understand Iberville's quiet, vicious anger. He would
rather have lost a hand than have killed Sainte-Helene, who had, on
board the Maid of Provence, treated him with great courtesy. He only
shook his head now.

"Well, I will tell you," said Iberville. "We have spared you to try you
for a spy. And after--after! His laugh was not pleasant to hear.

"A spy? It is false!" cried Gering.

"You will remember--monsieur, that once before you gave me the lie!"

Gering made a proud gesture of defiance, but answered nothing. That
night he was lodged in the citadel.

CHAPTER XX

A TRAP IS SET

Gering was tried before Governor Frontenac and the full council. It was
certain that he, while a prisoner at Quebec, had sent to Boston plans
of the town, the condition of the defences, the stores, the general
armament and the approaches, for the letter was intercepted.

Gering's defence was straightforward. He held that he had sent the
letter at a time when he was a prisoner simply, which was justifiable;
not when a prisoner on parole, which was shameless. The temper of the
court was against him. Most important was the enmity of the Jesuits,
whose hatred of Puritanism cried out for sacrifice. They had seen the
work of the saints in every turn of the late siege, and they believed
that the Lord had delivered the man into their hands. In secret ways
their influence was strong upon many of the council, particularly those
who were not soldiers. A soldier can appreciate bravery, and Gering had
been courageous. But he had killed one of the most beloved of Canadian
officers, the gallant Sainte-Helene! Frontenac, who foresaw an end
of which the council could not know, summed up, not unfairly, against
Gering.

Gering's defence was able, proud, and sometimes passionate. Once or
twice his words stung his judges like whips across their faces. He
showed no fear; he asked no mercy. He held that he was a prisoner of
war, and entitled to be treated as such. So strong, indeed, was his
pleading, so well did his stout courage stand by him, that had Count
Frontenac balanced in his favour he might have been quit of the charge
of spying. But before the trial Iberville had had solitary talk with
Frontenac, in which a request was repeated and a promise renewed.

Gering was condemned to d