Chapter 26
The New Found Land

He saw the shadows were men. Clouds passed the moon. He knew by the gold braided hats some were French soldiers. But the gold braid and brass buttons were dull. Their pants were torn. Other men wore skin boots and coats. They whispered words William Pender did not know. French words. Indian words. D'Iberville's men. One thing shone among them. One thing glittered like new.

"Do you see their swords?" William Drew moved his smile. William Pender saw it was the smile of a dead man. He looked for the swords. The moon came out. He saw two blades flash in the woods.

One sword had a brass leaf at its hilt, and a rope pattern on its handle. Another had an oak handle and a gilt scallop shell hilt that fanned out and flashed the moon.

"You can't see reflections in those swords," William Drew drawled. "But I can."

"What kind?" William Pender asked.

"Black ruins," the dead man said. "The sad mile of shacks in the town, black and smoking. Looted and burned. Ada and baby May murdered. Everyone captured. Or killed. Or driven to the hills. They'll live off hares and grouse. They'll hide until the French move on to attack Conception Bay."

William Pender saw the dead man's gruesome smile in the moonlight. Why was he smiling? What could the dead see? He wanted to know.

"What else do you see in the swords?" he asked.

"Desires," the dead man grinned. "I see the French vision of a new found land. A new France on the wooded hills. With little French children and beautiful French houses."

"Then there is a New Portugal, with women frying little fish like smelt in hot oil on the beaches. Sheep in the valleys and Portuguese music flowing in the cliffs."

"Then there is a New England, where Admirals rule people as they do in Old England. Every stick of firewood spoken for. No hare hunting or partridge shooting on the Lord's lands."