Buried Secrets at Louisbourg Read Free

ran his hand through his hair. “You take this way too seriously, Gerard. We’re just re-enactors, you know—a summer job. If there’s a problem, you’re supposed to tell security. That’s
their
job.”
    â€œNo, it’s okay,” Fred said. “We told him he could.”
    â€œWhy would you do that?” the other soldier asked.
    â€œIt’s our fault—we were in the wrong place,” Fred replied. “He was giving us a break. Look, he can see what’s in my bag, too. Mai, show him.”
    Mai dumped everything onto the grass. Fred’s rumpled clothes and balled-up papers were a stark contrast to Mai’s tidy pile, now neatly packed away.
    The other soldier shook his head. “Whatever,” he said.
    Gerard reached out as if to search through the pile.
    The other soldier cleared his throat. “
Gerard.
”
    â€œWell, I suppose you weren’t stealing anything,” Gerard said, finally. He sounded disappointed. His eyes met Fred’s. “But you’re up to something. There’s no doubt about that.”
    Fred opened his mouth to protest, but Mai’s warning stare stopped him.
    â€œGive it a rest, Gerard. C’mon, kids,” the other soldier said.
    Fred shuffled awkwardly over to the wall, leaning against the stone to hold the box in place so he had both hands free to pack his things. The guard was surveying him with a frown.
    As they marched single file along the path to join the authorized excavation site, Gerard leaned over and whispered menacingly in Fred’s ear, “I’ll be watching you.”

Chapter 3

    Psycho Gerard stayed true to his word. Fred, Mai, and Grace remained with the tourists, digging for the rest of the morning and into the afternoon—all the while under his scrutiny.
    They didn’t have much of a choice, really. If they left after saying that this was what they had come to do, it would have seemed suspicious. Gerard could still follow through on his threat and take them to security. And security would take Fred’s box.
    When Gerard had refused to leave them at the site alone, the other soldier had grumbled something about Gerard getting fired if he didn’t watch it, and left.
    The Parks Canada archaeologist was busy directing the site, and didn’t seem alarmed that they were so much younger than everyone else and had not arrived with the rest of the volunteers—or even that an eighteenth-century soldier was keeping watch over them.
    Mai had said they were there for a school project and the archaeologist had nodded vaguely, waving them to a clear spot between an older man and woman. A few instructions on how to dig and screen the soil, and they were left to work away.
    The volunteers were very curious about Gerard, though. They’d all arrived before official park hours, so the re-enactors hadn’t been on duty. He was the first “sighting” of a soldier for those that had never visited the fortress before.
    â€œAre you in character? Do you talk like the soldiers at the fortress would have back when it was operating?” a woman asked.
    â€œYes, ma’am. But we only do that at our posts in the reconstructed part of the fortress.” He pointed up the hill to the buildings. “I have a shift up at the gate later.”
    â€œSo what’s your role?” the woman continued. “Can you tell us what it was like back then?”
    Gerard seemed to love the attention. He answered endless questions about a soldier’s life—from living conditions, to what his uniform was made of, and the general history of the fortress.
    Despite his overall lack of interest, some of the things Fred heard shocked him. Soldiers only made seven dollars a month and took a bath once a year?
Gross!
Several slept in a bunk and there were lice and fleas in the beds, their uniforms stank, and the soldiers all froze in the winter. On top of that, they almost starved and