As for Sir Christopher, his preconcerted meeting with Father Le Vieux, and the conversation betwixt them, prove that he had other objects besides the establishment of peace between the English and the Taranteens. The determination of the question of peace or war seemed to be left entirely with the Father. We may consider his remaining in the village was for the purpose of waiting for the announcement of the conclusion to which the Indians, under the direction of the Jesuit priest, should come, and also to arrange their mutual plans; for, taking advantage of the absence of Arundel, which, as is seen, he encouraged, the Knight had frequent conferences with the priest, the grand object of which was to advance such measures as might obtain the whole of North America for the Catholics, as South America had already been secured. It would seem that, although the Knight had the accomplishment of that result as much at heart as the priest himself, his national pride and patriotism relucted at the idea that English colonies should become possessions of the hereditary enemies of his nation. It was to combat this notion, and to satisfy him of his duty, to trample upon it at the foot of the cross, that the arguments of the father were directed. The plan of Sir Christopher was to supplant and overpower the Puritans with English Catholics, which, by the aid of the immense wealth of the Church, and the ability of the enterprising Jesuits, he doubted not might be done, but not to make the colony French. Devoted Catholic as he was, he was unable to renounce his love of country.
Not so with the father. With the sagacity of a priest, he placed no dependence upon any portion of a people whose councils were ruled by Protestants, and with the conceit of a Frenchman, he had unlimited confidence in la grande nation; besides, he had been a witness, and partaken of the sufferings of his brethren, the French Jesuits, among the savages, and he relied much on a zeal, the superior of which the world has never seen, and which he believed sanctioned by heaven, and in spite of himself, and try as he might to persuade himself of the contrary, national feeling (as in the case of Sir Christopher) mingled with the aspirations of the religionist. He would, indeed, rather than fail, have courted the Turk himself, on whom he looked with eyes about as favorable as on a Protestant, but he preferred that his own nation, as well as his own order, should monopolize both the glory and the advantages of the achievement. These feelings, secret almost to himself, he carefully kept concealed from Sir Christopher, whom he regretted was not a countryman, and confined himself to the religious aspect of the case. No opportunity to remove a doubt, or inflame the zeal of his coadjutor, did he allow to escape.
“There is but one Church,” he said, in one of their conversations, “and only through her sacred portals is the kingdom of heaven to be entered—a truth received by every Catholic—else, vain and unmeaning was the solemn tradition of the keys to St. Peter. They who are not for her are against her, and must be subdued to obedience by mild means if they will suffice—by harsh, if necessary.”