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 die. It was perhaps the bravest moment of a
brave life.

"Gentlemen," he said, "I have heard your sentence, but, careless of
military honour as you are, you will not dare put me to death. Do not
think because we have failed this once that we shall not succeed again.
I tell you, that if, instead of raw Boston sailors, ploughmen and
merchant captains, and fishing craft and trading vessels, I had three
English war-ships and one thousand men, I would level your town from the
citadel to the altar of St. Joseph's. I do not fear to die, nor that I
shall die by your will. But, if so, 'twill be with English loathing of
injustice."