Daniel had just finished the Mass, and his flock was still kneeling at their devotions.

Suddenly, an uproar of voices, shrill with terror, burst upon the silence of the town.

The Iroquois! The Iroquois, a crowd of hostile

warriors had issued from the forest. The priest railied the defenders, promised heaven for

those who died for their homes and for their faith. Then he hastened from house to house,

calling on unbelievers to repent and receive baptism, to snatch them from the hell that

yawned to engulf them. They crowded around him, imploring to be saved, and immersing his

handkerchief in a bowl of water, he shook it over them and baptized them. They pursued him,

and he ran against the church, where he found a throng of women and children and old

men gathering in the sanctuary.

Some cried for baptism, some held out their children to receive it, some begged for absolution

and some wailed in terror and despair.

Brothers!

He exclaimed again and again and he shook the baptismal drops from his handkerchief.

Brothers, today we shall be in heaven.

The fierce yells of the war whoop now rose close at hand.

That palisade was forced and the enemy was in the town.

The air quivered with the infernal din.

Fly, fly!

Scream the priest, driving his flock before him.

I will stay here.

We will meet again in heaven.

...